Log edited with Logedit 2.6.6pl on Fri Jul 31 16:31:39 EDT 1998

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The group meets in the center of the Caern, Nightflash arriving last. He loosk around, pleased that the others are all here. There's definitely something bothering him, however; the ahroun seems to be in a bad mood. Ready? The group passes into the Umbra, headed toward a place that Nightflash and John earlier scouted out. The umbra slowly grows more quiet as they approach the place that triggered the theurge's sense of the enemy.

Weighs-the-Way follows along, taking in as much as she is able, playing the watch-the-elders-and-do-what-they-do game again.

Voice-of-Trees trails along at the back of the group, hobbling at a more or less steady pace on three legs.

Defends-Wolves moves carefully through the umbral forest, body lowered to the ground slightly. He keeps toward the front of the small group, scenting the air to catch the Wyrm's influence again.

A touch of decay scents the air, like rotting meat too long in the sun. The bushes begin to thin, the soil growing more rocky. Up ahead, a large stone has jutted out from the ground. Between its thrust and the ground is a dark, dank cave.

Nightflash warns the cub in particular to be careful. It is dark on this side tonight.

Weighs-the-Way ducks her head in acknowledgement, keeping close to the others.

Voice-of-Trees flattens his ears, clearly nervous. But he seems to be reminding himself, over and over, of the hunt, the hunt, the hunt -- using silent wolf-language rather than grunts or growls or chuffs.

Defends-Wolves splays his ears back as they near the cave. He turns to look back at the others, silently communicating. It lies in there, whatever it is.

The fur at the scruff of WtW's neck rises and her steps slow. She drops back a bit, nearer to VoT.

Nightflash looks to Voice-of-Trees and Weighs-The-Way to go in first. We will follow. This kill is yours. We will only attack if you are in danger.

Weighs-the-Way hesitates to ask -- Certain of killing? Must be? Her wolfspeak has improved, but isn't quite proficient yet.

Voice-of-Trees closes his eyes for a mment, and then opens them. Shifting upward to the larger-wolf form, the Fianna starts limping toward the cave, gingerly sniffing the air. His ears remain cocked forward to catch any sound.

Weighs-the-Way follows after VoT, quickening her steps to catch up as she shifts upward as well.

Nightflash remains in the wolf form for the time being.

Weighs-the-Way shifts into Hispo form.

Defends-Wolves remains near the outside of the cave for the moment, ready to move in quickly should things get out of hand.

Voice-of-Trees pauses at the entrance to the cave, and remarks, hesitantly, ~There /is/ something down there. Alive. Or, er, breathing, it seems.~

Defends-Wolves looks toward the cave mouth again, slight concern showing. It may be better if we try to draw it out here. Probably more room to move.

Weighs-the-Way stops, her shoulder nearly touching VoT's -- she is just barely abreast of him. She tries to peer in, listening, sniffing.

A growl trickles out from the depths of the cave, pitched too high and throaty for a canine.

Voice-of-Trees twitches at the growl and then limps a step away. ~Yes,~ he says, rather hurriedly. ~Drawing it out would be best.~ The unasked puzzle, of course, is /how/.

Nightflash recommends challenging it.

Defends-Wolves looks to the cub and Fianna. Your call.

The metis isn't left to wonder long. Apparently a step away isn't good enough, as a golden-furred body throws itself out of the dark to grapple him. The cougar screams as its hind claws go from the dire wolf's belly. As the pair grapple, tiny worms begin to crawl from the cougar's infested skin to Erik. Bloody discharge mixes with foam around the cat's snarling mouth. The stench of decay hits all four Garou.

Weighs-the-Way turns her gaze to Nightflash. A slow blink, then she looks to VoT. She dives headlong with a snarl at the decaying cat, jaws going straight for its backside.. as if to knock it off the Fianna.

Nightflash quickly backs away, watching the others critically. His paws dig up the ground continuously, however, and his whole body seems tense and ready to fight.

Defends-Wolves wrinkles his nose at the smell, though he draws back to let the other two tear into the spirit. He remains tensed to move in should he be needed to help.

Voice-of-Trees utters a distinctly high-pitched yelp and goes scrambling madly backwards, all three paws digging int the ground as he tries to free himself from the beast.

Between the cub's hit in its back and the metis' struggle to get free, the cougar's hold is broken. Weighs-the-Way bites through the matted skin into the meat of its back. The substance feels insubstantial and a rotten, nauseating taste floods her mouth. Voice-of-Trees takes another shallow line of scratches in getting away. The cougar rounds on the Gaian who blooded it. Though muscles would have been torn in a realmside cougar, this one does not seem slowed. The white-fletched pink liquid drips from its mouth to the ground.

Weighs-the-Way's snarl increases in volume at the taste she encounters with the collision. She releases her hold and faces the cougar, growling at it. So much for hesitation at killing. Another leap and a darting motion to one side and she dives for the thing's throat.

Voice-of-Trees freezes for a bare moment, his sunken eyes rolling, showing the whites like those of a terrified racehorse. Then, abruptly -- and after Weighs goes for it's throat, the Fianna lunges forward, his body reverting to breed as he lashes at the thing with his claws.

Defends-Wolves gives an encouraging growl to the two Garou, looking back to the cave for signs of anything else that might be biding it's time there.

Nightflash begins pacing back in forth, eyes never straying from the fight.

The cougar screams again as Weighs-the-Way lunges to meet its charge. Her teeth sink deep in its throat, scoring on the yielding flesh deeply in a blow that would have probably meant death for a realm cat. Almost unhamped, the cat turns its head to sink its own teeth in the cub's jawbone. Its canines score deeply in the flesh above the right eye before sinking down. Garou blood hits the ground, the copper scent fighting with the stench. At its back, the Fianna aims a shakey blow. It scores along the mangey hide, but hits far less deeply than one might have suspected. The metis' claws are clogged with white slime after he draws back.

Weighs-the-Way screams in a wolfy sort of way, thrashing her head back and forth in an effortto rip out the thing's throat -- most apparently futile-looking at this point.

Defends-Wolves turns his attention back to the fight, simply watching at this point.

Voice-of-Trees gives his hand a sharp jerk to dislodge the slime, lips peeled back from crooked yellow fangs. Then, teeth gritted -- probably fighting nausea -- the Fianna slashes down again, talons slashing at the spirit's hip as he goes to grasp the thing by one hind leg. For a moment, the metis moves in a blur of speed, as though to get the whole ugly business over with as soon as possible.

A heartbeat of tussling--Weighs-the-Way continues to tear at its throat while Erik beats its back. The cougar spirit dissolves at Erik's second hit, having his third whistle through a smokey outline that shudders and dissipates at his touch like a soap bubble. The woods goes back to silence, other than the harsh breathing of the Garou.

Weighs-the-Way sinks to the ground with a quiet whimper, one side of her head, eye down, covered with blood, and that eye closed.

Nightflash makes his way over to the pair. He doesn't take long to come to the conclusion that the cub is much worse off than the metis.

Voice-of-Trees stands still for a moment, swaying on two feet. He closes his eyes tightly, muzzle gaped open as he breathes, gaining slow control over his dinner, which very much wants to come out and join the party.

Weighs-the-Way doesn't lift her head to acknowledge the approach of the Ahroun. She quiets her own whimpers with great effort.

Defends-Wolves moves over to the downed cub, nudging her gently as he looks over her injuries. Well done.

Weighs-the-Way sits very, very still, her breaths short.

Nightflash begins licking the blood from the wounded eye.

Voice-of-Trees, battle with his rebellious stomach won, opens his eyes again and sinks to the ground, shifting to wolf form as he does so. His gaze goes toward the wounded cub, and his ears flatten in shame.

Defends-Wolves begins cleaning some of Louisa's wounds, then looks up at the metis. You defeated your opponent and both survived. You have nothing to be ashamed of.

Weighs-the-Way shifts slightly and asks the Ahroun. What should we have done differently? She whines softly.

Nightflash doesn't reply immediately. He makes an effort to get the blood cleared out of the wounded eye. Can you see?

Voice-of-Trees pushes to his feet again, head lowered. I am needed on patrol, I-- He looks at the elder Gaians. Thank you for the lesson.

Weighs-the-Way replies with as little movement as possible. Yes. Don't want to. Her eye remains closed.

Nightflash thinks we should return. The battle may attract others. Do not be concerned, your eye will heal.

Defends-Wolves chuffs a soft farewell to the metis, then looks back to the cub. Try to get to your feet. We should leave before anything else comes this way.

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