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Three or four hours pass. The promised comforts come, finally, in the
arms of an abnormally tall woman. For all that she looks Andrea's
opposite in all but coloring, with her rangy build and head of height
on the cubs' full-grown human bodies, there's something in the absent
way she tilts her head that makes both cubs flash on their memtor. She
moves to the stone where the pitchers of water sit and set down the
blankets first. Then she sets down a covered basket, pushing up on the
stone next to it to cross her legs in a sitting position. She regards
Lawrence silently, head slightly tilted. Her forehead is creased in
concentration.

Lawrence looks immediately edgy as the woman's scrutiny is directed
towards him, and he asks, quietly, "What is it?"

Adam rolls his shoulders back a bit, as they're aching from the rest on
the hard ground. As the tall woman approaches, he raises an eyebrow in
curiousity.

The woman raises both eyebrows, finally, and just shakes her head. She
then turns that same intent gaze on Adam.

Adam lets his eyes move to the woman. He shifts a little in his place,
feeling like he's being studied.

Dysira, again, shakes her head and looks away from the cub. "It is a
fantastic story you have brought the alpha." Her voice is husky and
deep, matching her large frame. "But seeing you, I can believe some of
it. You show none of fear that men brought for the rites always have,
and though you are ridden by neither Wyrm or spirit, there is
something about you that is not as it seems."

"I wish we had more than an odd nature to convince you that we speak the
truth," Lawrence says with a sigh, some of the edginess draining from
him.

Adam narrows his eyes, and nods. "We are speaking the truth. If we were
lying in any way, we'd already be dead. But...what Rites?"

"Your words are also true, and that has certainly helped with the
alpha," the tall woman answers. "But she has sent me, because there is
more than one side to truth, and none knows that better than my moon."
Dysira then turns to the cub. "The nature rites, young manling. The
ones that ensure that the soil will again bring its fruits for all."
Her broad face crinkles in a sudden smile. "But I suppose you may find
it rude for me to call you manling, if your story is indeed true and
you are born of a Garou mother, even if it is across the veils of
dream." She raises a hand to her chest. "My name is Dysira."

Adam raises a hand to his chest in return. "I am Adam."

Lawrence offers, "I'm Lawrence."

Dysira leans forward slightly. "Tell me what you remember, of the rite
that sent you here."

Adam thinks about it for a few moments, then replies. "Well, our Elder
has started by providing us with a deer to feed on, then sent us to a
stream to drink, both as much as we could, for she had said it would
be some time before we had food or drink again. Then, in the ceremony,
she had painted out faces with the glyphs for our breed, tribe, and
auspice, and had us drink a potion she made that would send us into
the Dream."

Lawrence holds his tongue, merely nodding assent with what Adam says.
"The drink -- it was foul."

"Most of them," Adam continues, "most of our tribesmates in the area
came to see us off. Deep-Fires-of-Strength has started to sing, to
make us fall asleep. Next thing we knew, we were here."

Dysira nods after Adam finishes. "So she didn't tell you that you would
come to this place."

Adam shakes his head. "No. I'm not even she knew exactly where we would
end up."

Dysira doesn't seem disturbed by that. "It is often the way, with
dreams." She then turns to glance at Lawrence, sharply. "Daeanara said
that you mentioned finding something here you wanted to do before you
left, but didn't say what it was."

Lawrence nods slightly. "I want to stop the killing," he says quietly,
his gaze going to the ground. "I want to work something out so that
you don't feel the need to kill the villagers, so they don't have to
live in fear. Accomplishing this might mean nothing in my world, but
-- I need to try to make a difference, because I won't be able to look
myself in the mirror again if I don't."

Adam nods in agreement. "I...maybe thet's why we're here."

Dysira shakes her head. She then says, thoughtfully, "When I was a young
Garou, I had a task that took me to the land of the Children of Gaia.
I heard one speak to others there about this." She raises her head
again. "Daeanara told me some of your words, about what we do and your
world. But I wish to hear for myself." She gestures with a hand.
"Please."

Lawrence keeps his eyes on the ground. "Where we come from," he says
quietly, "the humans have grown in number despite your killing them.
They gather in great numbers, and build huge metal homes that touch
the sky. They have drifted further away from Gaia's path because there
was never anyone to guide them back towards it when the Wyrm whispered
to them, and now out of ignorance they do the Wyrm's bidding. They are
so much a danger to the Garou that we cannot reveal our existence to
them, for to do so would mean all our deaths." He pauses. "All of this
could have been prevented."

Adam nods. "Because of the killing that happens now, most humans in our
time will go insane at the sight of the Warform. That's called the
Delierium. We're unable to interact with most humans, because our Rage
drives them away."

Dysira tilts her head slightly to the right. Her eyes flicker to a point
beyond Lawrence's shoulder, but then turn to the cubs. She is silent
for a short time, thoughtfully, then says, "But keeping the humans
under control was stopped? When?"

Adam hmmms. "Long ago," he says. "The Gaians pushed for peace, to stop
the killing of humans. It is part of the Litany now."

"Not just our tribe," Lawrence says quietly. "Others as well. Many Garou
realized that killing the humans was doing far more harm than it was
good."

Dysira shakes her head again. "I have heard the report of your litany."
She looks directly into Lawrence's eyes. "Can you say, for certain,
that stopping the killing wasn't the worst mistake? You speak of a
world polluted, with more humans than ants in the ground. If the
killing doesn't stop, this horror would not happen."

"It wasn't just that," Adam says. "The killing stopped, but by then it
was too late, for the delierium had set in. If it's stopped now, all
of us have a chance."

Lawrence nods slowly, finally lifting his eyes to Dysira's. "We treated
them as prey for so long that they could no longer bear the sight of
the predator without reacting with primal, instinctual fear. We drove
them from Gaia's path rather than doing what we were supposed to, and
shepherding them along it."

Dysira makes a considering noise. She pushes to her feet then. "I will
go look for Daeanara now. She should be done questioning the other."

Dysira finally comes back, with the domineering woman that both the men
have already met. The two can pick up from the subtle interaction
between the women that Dysira defers to Daeanara, though she doesn't
fawn subserviently on the other woman.

Adam looks up as the Furies approach, coming out of his reverie.

Daeanara walks up to the pair and addresses Lawrence, whom she has
apparently decided is the dominant. "I was told you have an idea."

Lawrence draws a breath before answering, and is careful to keep his
eyes on the ground. "I would like you to consider reaching a two-sided
arrangement with the village, rather than the one-sided affair now."

The Fury alpha nods once, folding her arms. "Go on."

Adam listens, letting Lawrence speak his plan.

Lawrence spreads his hands out in front of him. "The humans are
frightened. Killing them is only going to make them more frightened,
and cause them to take more drastic steps to try to protect
themselves. Today all they do is bar the doors and try to keep the
night at bay with fires while defending themselves with farmtools.
Tomorrow they'll begin settling in groups so large that it will be
suicide for even Garou to try to attack them -- and all the while,
they'll have the Wyrm whispering to them, encouraging them down the
dark path, because they had no one to teach them the right path."

Daeanara's expression flickers, reacting to the cub's words without
making her thoughts clear. "And you wish to do something," she prods.

Adam nods, agreeing with Lawrence again.

Dysira crosses her arms across her chest as she also listens.
Occasionally her eyes flick around the small valley, but they always
return to one of the two men.

"What I do means nothing," Lawrence answers. "It's what you do, you and
the others who protect this area. Teach the humans. Tell them why they
must keep their numbers down. Show them how to live in harmony with
Gaia, rather than cutting her and poisoning her a little at a time.
Take away their fear -- be their protectors and their guides, not
their nightmares."

The dark woman shakes her head. "But it is you, and your tribe, who have
always protected the humans. And it is you wish to make some kind of
difference here. You will go to them and teach them."

Lawrence closes his eyes. "Does this mean you are willing to put a stop
to the killing while I speak with the villagers?"

"If you can get them to listen to you."

Adam raises an eyebrow. He turns to Lawrence. "Do you think we can
convince them?"

Lawrence shrugs his shoulders slightly. "We can only try," he says
quietly. Then, turning his attention back to Daeanara, he asks, "What
will it take to satisfy you? What will it take to convince you to stop
the killing forever?"

Adam is still listening as the plan formulates. He looks around,
wondering if anyone else is around.

Daeanara considers. "First, they would have to keep their population
down to a reasonable level. And, from time to time, we require...
assistance."

Adam turns back to the Furies. "Assistance?"

Lawrence asides to Adam, "Healthy men to father their children."

Adam nods to Lawrence. "I had a feeling, like we talked about before."

Daeanara makes no response, as her question is already answered.

Dysira glances at the alpha. "I am not sure the rites will work, without
men."

Lawrence rises slowly. "One more thing," he says. "It would be helpful
if we could take to the villagers some token of your good faith.
Something that will show them you're more than what they think you are
-- that you'll abide by any arrangements made."

Adam takes a few more moments to listen, then stands up as well.
"Something, perhaps, that would prove to them we talked to you, and
made arrangements?"

The alpha nods to Dysira, but doesn't reply aloud. She looks back to the
males, eyebrows arched. "What sort of token do you require?"

Lawrence considers the question for a few moments before replying, "Do
you have any of their number captive, right now?"

Adam rubs a chin that has a short layer of fuzz on it.
"Something...something that could only be found with a Garou." He
looks to Lawrence as he answers, then back to the Furies.

Dysira shakes her head and answers for the alpha. "We don't take the men
until tonight."

Adam hrms. "And you're still going to take humans tonight? Against their
will?"

Lawrence bows his head slightly. "Adam?"

"That was the plan," replies Daeanara.

There's a moment, as Adam looks to Lawrence, of total silence. Somewhere
in Adam's mind, there's a decision being made. He raises his eyes to
Daeanera. "What...what would it take, to prevent your pack from
stealing anyone from the village tonight?" The question is asked, but
by this time, Adam knows the answer.

"Adam, go back to the village and make them understand," Lawrence says
quietly. "I'll stay here."

The two Furies look from Lawrence to Adam.

Shaking his head, Adam says to Lawrence, firmly. "No. You...or who you
were, still has a wife to protect. The village, the innocents, they
have to be kept safe. Go." He turns to the Furies. "If I stay here,
will you let the villagers alone?"

Daeanara shakes her head. "No. But if he succeeds, we will."

Dysira looks from man to man. Her voice is measured and low, as if she
talked about something unimportant. "Since you don't know the rite, I
will tell you this. So you know what you take willingly. After the men
share their fertility with the women, we give their blood to the
ground. I will not have time to decide whether the rite can be safely
altered, this year. You will have to agree to embrace that willingly,
if we are to sacrifice only one instead of several."

Lawrence closes his eyes, his hands curling into fists. He keeps silent,
waiting for Adam's answer.

Turning to Lawrence, Adam explains to him, "Lawrence, most of the town
thinks I'm a crazy child, or one of them. You're a family man there,
an adult, and a respected member of the community. You have a better
chance of getting them to stand up to Cinabar than I do." He turns to
the Furies, calm, serene, knowing his place. "I accept."

Lawrence opens his eyes and reaches out to give Adam's shoulder a
squeeze. "Good luck," he finally says, failing to find something
suitably meaningful to say.

Adam looks to Lawrence, one last time. "Gaia light your path, brother of
my tribe," he whispers.

Lawrence drops his hand back to his side, and turns away from Adam. A
bit dazedly, he begins walking in a direction that would take him out
of the valley.

Daeanara jerks her chin in Adam's direction. "Prepare him," she tells
Dysira. To Lawrence, she says, "One of the guardians will lead you to
the edge of the forest."

Adam faces Dysira, and nods, once.

Lawrence stops, without turning around, and nods. He stands there, head
bowed, waiting.

Dysira regards Adam, not unkindly. "You will father courageous
daughters, for all your pretty face. Come." She leads Adam away, out
of Lawrence's sight.

Several wolves step silently from the forest. Lawrence doesn't recognize
any of them. A few worlds from their alpha and they fall in step
beside the young man, and lead him away.

Adam follows the Fury unflinchingly, not saying anything.

To Adam:
You live through another month of dream. Under the
light of the full moon tonight, you are stripped naked and fed a drug
that loosens your inhibitions. You are treated well, though most of
the women that you service over the next month are either mechanical
about the process or extremely dominant. One or two actually damage
you slightly in the throes of passion, though you are healed the next
morning. At the next full moon, you are again brought to the caern for
a large ritual. This time, you are allowed to wear robes of woven wool
after a ceremonial cleaning. You have to stand as Dysira kisses you on
the forehead and slices your throat open with a knife. It burns, and
you feel weakness in all your limbs as you fall into the arms of the
Fury waiting behind you. You seem to sink and sink into blackness as
you bleed. The pain finally stops...and you wake.'.

Silent, perhaps even a bit shell-shocked, Lawrence begins moving once
more. He aims for the remembered path that brought him to this place.

It takes over an hour on foot, but eventually the guardians get Lawrence
to the edge of their bawn. Their alpha indicates a path that they had
been following. Stay on this until you get to the steam and the large
boulder. Then follow the stream to your home.

Lawrence nods mutely, and begins walking in the indicated direction.
After a few moments he picks up his pace until he is running through
the woods -- perhaps an effort to put distance between himself and the
horror that Adam has subjected himself to.

Even at a run it takes a while, but Lawrence eventually reaches the
village. By now the sun is beginning to go down; it's perhaps three
hours before sunset.

Practically dragging himself, Lawrence moves along the final leg of his
journey. He makes no effort to hide his approach to the village.

There are very few people out of their homes on this day, dread keeping
many of the villagers inside as the sun begins to sink. One of the
people still in the fields, however, is Lawrence's wife. Annabelle
gives a glad cry as she sees Lawrence stumbling back, and she drops
the stop she had been hauling to run toward him.

Lawrence winces slightly at the woman's glad cry, but keeps his reaction
dulled and turned inwards. He plods towards her, and when she's within
hearing, says, hoarsely, "I have to talk to the elders."

Annabelle throws her arms around Lawrence. She's weeping, trembling
against him. "I thought you were dead," she keeps repeating. "Oh
Lawrence, Lawrence."

Lawrence shakes his head. "I'm fine," he says quietly. He doesn't answer
her embrace. "Annabelle, it's important -- I need to talk to the
elders before sunset."

Annabelle steps back half a step, hurt reflected in her face. "All
right," she says quietly, wiping her face. "They're in the council
hut. Cinabar's in meditation right now, so maybe she won't see you go
there."

Lawrence draws a breath and nods once. Almost as an afterthought, he
presses a kiss to her cheek. "Thank you," he says softly, and then
begins hurrying towards the village green and the council hut."

The door is shut, but Lawrence can hear voices inside as he gets to the
doorway.

The subject is exactly what Lawrence would have expected. As he enters,
he hears one of the men, whom he recognizes as another farmer, calling
for combat. The deep voice that could only belong to the village's
metalworker responds with derision. "With rakes and shovels? You'd
have us all killed."

Lawrence steels himself before stepping forward.

Annabelle stands outside as Lawrence goes in, biting her lip as he
disappears inside the hut.

Conversation ceases when Lawrence opens the door and slips inside. A few
of the men make warding symbols in the air. No one speaks.

Lawrence walks, silently, to the front of the room before breaking the
quiet and speaking. "They will not come tonight. Whether they come
again after that depends on how carefully you listen to what I have to
say."

Several of the men shift uncomfortably. Still no one speaks for several
seconds, before the village leader finally raises his voice. "Where is
Adam?"

Lawrence fixes the leader with a glare. "Adam is dead," he says flatly.
"He went to his death willingly, so that all of you could know the
peace of one month without fear of being killed by the Garou."

That sends a wave of murmurs around the room. Simon holds up his hands
for silence. "And what have you discovered, young Lawrence?"

Lawrence seats himself on the floor, and keeps his voice low enough so
that others cannot shout if they wish to hear. "The creatures who have
preyed upon you for as long as anyone can remember are called Garou.
They are servants of the earth itself, and they fear that if we grow
too many in number, we will destroy the earth they have sworn to
protect. Their fear is not without basis -- already we are beginning
to farm more than we can use, and kill for sport rather than for the
necessity of life. This must stop."

One of the men that made the sign of warding at Lawrence says
suspiciously, "How do you know this much about them? Are you in league
with them?"

Lawrence turns his glare on the man who just spoke. "I spoke with them,"
he snaps. "I went to them in peace, and they answered me honestly and
honorably. They are willing to cease preying upon us -- but they
require something in return."

Simon jerks his chin, motioning for Lawrence to go on.

Lawrence lowers his voice once more. "We must keep our numbers at a
reasonable level," he says. "That is the largest reason they prey upon
us -- to keep our numbers down. They know that if there are too many
of us, then we will clear more forests to plant our fields, and we
will hunt more game, and we will pollute the earth that much more. We
*must* keep our numbers down. We cannot have children whenever we wish
-- we can have just enough to keep our number at its present level, or
perhaps to grow very slowly."

Another murmur runs through the crowd. Simon asks, "How are we supposed
to control that? We don't decide when an act will result in pregnancy.
It happens or it does not." Another man chimes in, "Maybe he wants us
all to stop having sex." That gets a few laughs.

Lawrence rises, smoothly, to his feet. "Shall I return to them now, and
tell them that despite Adam's sacrifice, and despite their own
willingness to compromise, you met their proposals with laughter? I
knew that some of you were fools, but I had not realized you would
rather be killed by claws in the night than listen and learn."

Simon shoots the man who spoke a glare, and motions for Lawrence to
continue. "What do you propose?"

Lawrence shrugs his shoulders. "I will talk to them, and see if they
have any wisdom to share -- women are fertile only a short time each
month, and perhaps they can help us learn how we can guess this more
carefully. Beyond that, I suggest -- if you want to live -- that you
abstain."

More rumblings, and quite a few muttered protests, but Simon maintains
control of the group. "That is all, then? All these years of preying
on us, just to keep our numbers down?"

Lawrence shrugs his shoulders slowly, and sits back down on the hard
floor of the council hut. "Remember what I told you. They are sworn to
protect the earth. When there are too many of us, we destroy what they
are sworn to protect. Is it any wonder that they chose to treat us
like animals and kill us rather than try to reason with us?"

One of the men stands up, having heard enough. "We don't know that he
isn't making all of this up just to save himself. He could have left
Adam out there to die and come back with this crazy idea just so we
would let him into the village again."

The door slams open at this point, shaking the thin walls of the
building. Cinabar stands in the doorway, mercifully clothed this time,
but the terrifying blaze of anger in her face is the same as when
Lawrence left. "What is this?"

Again, Lawrence rises back to his feet. He ignores Cinabar, preferring
instead to address the men. "If you don't believe me, wait through
tonight -- there will be no attacks, no killings, no kidnappings. But
if you ignore what I say, then next month there surely *will* be
attacks."

A brawny man stands. Lawrence remembers him from when he was sent away.
"I said that I would believe him if he could stop the attacks on the
village. I'm willing to wait until tonight and see if he speaks true."

Lawrence bows his head to the brawny man, and then lifts a defiant gaze
towards Cinabar. He says nothing.

Cinabar's face clots with red anger. "You will bring the wolf on us in
force, listening to this one," she says to the builder that proposes
listening to Lawrence. "He is cursed."

The man doesn't flinch away from Cinabar. "We are all cursed, and we
have been since the time of our grandparents' grandparents. Nothing
has changed. If this can bringn about a change in our fortunes, then I
for one am willing to try it. It can be no less effective than your
symbols and rituals have been."

It is a moment before Lawrence speaks. When he does, apprehension and
defiance evaporate from his demeanor. He says, simply, quietly, and
non-confrontationally, "We have brought the wolf on ourselves. We must
change our ways if we are to live in peace."

Cinabar's words come out as tiny explosions. "You think my rituals are
not effective? We will see how you like living without them, when the
wolves come to eat you all." Her narrow-eyed gaze sweeps the room.
"All of you!" The old woman then turns and storms out of the hut.

Lawrence draws a breath, and lets his eyes move to the village elder.
"There is one other thing."

"Well, Patrick, it seems you have made the decision for us all," says
Simon. Several people jump to their feet and glare at the big man, but
Patrick merely shrugs. "We've listened to her for as long as I can
remember and where has it gotten us? I propose we meet again tomorrow
to discuss how well or not well this new plan worked..." he trails
off, and all eyes turn to Lawrence.

Lawrence closes his eyes. "The Garou. They are all women, this
particular group. They cannot have children on their own. They need
the company of men from time to time."

Simon's eyes go wide, but it's another man who speaks. "You expect us to
mate with these... things? They're monsters! They're as tall as this
house! With fur, and claws!"

An amused smile works its way across Lawrence's lips. "They have many
forms," he says softly. "When they hunt or fight, what you say is
true. The rest of the time, they are as human as you or I. Quite
pretty, too."

"But they're still not human!" the man protests.

Lawrence shrugs his shoulders. "How would you know you slept with one
until she changed shape?" he asks quietly. "Your wife could be one."
His eyes move to another of the assembly. "Or your sister." Again, his
eyes stray. "Or your grandmother." He lets his eyes fall back to the
floor.

A couple of men look at each other uneasily at this supposition.

The man seems about to say more, but Simon interrupts him. "I believe we
have heared enough," he says. "This does not sound like so big a
problem. There are always younger men who are just beginning to
discover this for themselves and would fight for the chance."

Lawrence rises for the third time. "I'm tired," he says softly. "I'd
like to rest. Obviously you must have some time to think on what I've
said. I'll see you in the morning, and then I'll take your answer back
to them. Agreed?"

Seimon agrees, as does Patrick. A few others do as well, though several
still seem hesitant about the whole thing. The meeting continues once
Lawrence is gone.

There is no one outside the council building when Lawrence slips out.
The sun is starting to stain the sky with color.

Lawrence heads towards the hut that he and Annabelle dwell in. His
expression turns more and more pained as he approaches, but, with some
resolve, he pushes past the door and inside.

Annabelle raises her head as Lawrence comes in. She's sitting near the
hearth. Her eyes search her husband's face, but she says nothing.

Lawrence seats himself on the edge of the bed, and says to Annabelle,
"Things may be all right, now. There will be no attacks tonight."

Annabelle just nods silently. She finally asks, quietly, "Do you want to
go on to bed?"

A corner of Lawrence's mouth curves upwards in a small smile. "I missed
you," he whispers.
A couple of tears roll down Annabelle's cheeks as she tries to smile.
"Me, too."

Lawrence exhales a breath, then leans back onto the bed. "For a while,
when I was out there with them, all I could think about was getting
home," he says. "I just hope things work out. I don't think I'll be
able to live with myself if something goes wrong now, after all this."

Annabelle nods again. She stands and walks over to the bed.
Hesitatingly, she reaches out to touch Lawrence's face.

Lawrence stares up at the woman for a few moments, then closes his eyes.
Tears slip down his cheeks.

Annabelle kneels down to throw her arms around Lawrence again. She
doesn't flinch if he doesn't hold her again, just rocking back and
forth against him as silent tears leak down her own cheeks.

Eventually, Lawrence drifts off to sleep in Annabelle's arms.

Sleep sucks Lawrence down into a black pit of unknowingness, where a
feeling of vertigo makes him feel as if he falls endlessly into the
night. Finally, he drags himself awake, and sees the walls of a cave
around him. His body aches acutely, his skin sticky with the scent of
his own wastes. Swallowing hurts with a throat as dry as paper. But he
is back from Dream.

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