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Bloody Sky, Broken Stone, and Earth-Shaker communicate among each other
for a short time, their growls and body posture unreadable to the
wolf-born. Finally, the two crinos shrink somewhat back to their bear
form, though this size is still massive enough to intimidate the pack.
Earth-Shaker turns his head to Dillan. *Bloody Sky will go with you.*
With that, the bear on the far side shambles forward. The lame bear
turns and crashes away through the undergrowth. The eldest turns and
returns to the dark depths of the cave.
Dante looks between the rest of the pack, nervously.
Dante contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Derrick gulps vaguely, grates out ~Hi...~, and shifts into a travelling
form.
Laughing-Coyote shakes his leg slightly, glad wolves do not blush.
Derrick's intent on Bloody Sky and doesn't notice.
Bloody Sky grumbles something back to Derrick, which the Garou doesn't
understand any more than any of the rest of the bear speech. He turns
to lumber back the way the Garou had come, and then looks over his
shoulder at the pack. Unlike Broken Stone, his injury doesn't seem to
hamper his movements at all.
Laughing-Coyote remains in the back of the pack, waiting to see what
happens next.
Derrick whurfs. Stick near the bear-guy, Silverfur. Let's get going.
Bloody Sky makes it difficult for the pack to move as stealthily as they
are accustomed to, but the pack makes it back to the site where Dusty
leads them. The choking smell of burnt flesh hangs in the air. It
doesn't take the group long to find what remains of a pyre, with
blackened bones among the ashes.
Laughing-Coyote sits back on his haunches, quietly watching.
Derrick wrinkles his muzzle.
Bloody Sky circles the pyre, growling in his barbarian tongue.
Bloody Sky shifts into homid form.
Laughing-Coyote makes an odd face, snuffling.
Derrick whuffs in some surprise.
You shift into Homid form.
Laughing-Coyote looks at Derrick. Did you think they wouldn't burn them?
Dusty comes into view from some direction.
Dusty pads in from the clearing, making only a limited attempt to be
quiet.
Derrick grins at Dante. "No, I'm just surprised Mr. Bear there changed
into homid."
Klaus moves toward the bones, kneeling with no concern for the dirt and
ash that coats his coarse leggings. A monster of a man (especially if
the cub's conjectures of just how far back they are are correct),
Klaus does not look all that dissimilar from the Get the cubs have
seen in homid, other than the difference in size and a certain
coarseness of feature. He rubs one of the broken ribs between thumb
and palm, muttering to himself in a language that sounds nearly as
gutteral as his bear tongue. He looks up as Derrick speaks and says
something. The words are harsh and multisylabic, but the end raises in
a definite question.
Derrick acks, and shrugs uselessly. "I don't understand. Are you asking
about the Dancer?" He points to the bone as he asks the question.
Laughing-Coyote says "Um, uh, keine sprechen Deutsch? Sprach Englisch?"
Derrick gets a fiercely enthusiastic expression on his face at Dante's
question, but refrains from saying anymore just now.
Dusty's confusion literally shouts itself from his lupine form. He
pauses, then hesitantly shifts to homid and stays at the edge of the
clearing.
Dusty contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Dusty shifts into Homid form.
Klaus's face brightens as one of the cubs speaks something approaching
sense. He frowns and answers. His words are so much thicker than
Dante's that it's hard to recognize it as German at all, but the
speech is punctuated with 'Nein's as he points to the corpses.
Laughing-Coyote asks, hopefully, "Habla Espanol?"
Laughing-Coyote contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Derrick takes a sniff. "I dunno what he's confused about. It smells
Wyrmy."
Klaus's face falls. He gives Dante a long-suffering look, then stands.
He dusts the ashes off his legs, then shifts to bear. He turns toward
the area Dusty and the others would know leads to the small pool.
Klaus contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Klaus shifts to bear form.
Derrick says, thoughtfully, "Though less than it prolly should."
Dante whimpers at the bear. "Sorry."
Bloody Sky does not seem angry, merely resigned. He soon disappears from
sight in the underbrush, making a straight line for the pool.
Derrick follows
You shift into Lupus form.
Dusty shrugs and follows the bear, pausing on the way to give one of the
bodies a good, solid kick. He pauses at the underbrush long enough to
shift to the wolf form.
Dusty shifts into Lupus form.
Bones scatter with a rattle.
Bloody Sky gets to the pool edge, but doesn't slow. The small waterhole
is barely bigger than the bear, but he plunges into the water and
begins cleaning himself. He seems to be doing this with an odd sort of
ceremony, rather than the haphazard nature of a non-sentient creature.
Derrick snuffles at his fur, wrinkles his nose, and joins Sky in the
water. Wish I had soap.
Bloody Sky appears surprised, but moves his pounderous bulk to make
room.
Realizing there isn't enough room for him here, Dusty pokes his nose
into the water at the edge of the pond, then backs off, whurfs, and
lies down not far from the edge to wait his turn.
Derrick makes himself as small as possible, but does stick around.
Bloody Sky finishes bathing himself, slinging water over himself in one
final baptism. He then turns to Derrick and raises one water-dripping
paw toward the Silver Fang's head.
Dusty turns his head to lick once at the now-healed scars on his
shoulder before laying his head on the ground, obviously waiting for
the other two to finish.
Derrick extends his head to let Sky pour for him.
Bloody Sky bathes the Silver Fang's head in much the same way he just
cleansed himself. He then rumbles and looks at the other wolves on the
bank.
Derrick looks at Dusty, whurfs, and scrambles out.
Derrick gives a slightly nervous little bark of what's obviously meant
to be thanks to Bloody Sky.
As Derrick scrambles out, Dusty stands and enters cautiously but with
considerable relief.
Bloody Sky lets the Garou do the majority of his own washing. Then, at
the end, he again offers to baptise the Gaian, as he had the Fang.
Dusty washes quickly, then extends his head as he had seen Derrick do,
accepting the offer.
Bloody Sky cleanses the galliard's head with the same odd ceremony. One
by one, the other cubs bathe, to accept the final cleansing from the
bear or not, as they chose. To those Christian before their change,
the scene echos strangely of a country preacher saving souls.
Dusty climbs out as well, and expresses his thanks to the bear as well
with a quiet chuff before shifting back to homid and sitting down a
few feet from the bank.
Dusty contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Dusty shifts into Homid form.
Bloody Sky blimbs out himself, shaking his mane and back thoughoughly.
He rewets those beginning to dry, but seems unconcerned about the
fact. He begins to move back toward the pyre, but stops. He turns his
head to snuffle at those here, then back into the carrying wind. He
growls, the sound more threatening.
Dusty begins to hum softly in a rich tenor voice, very quietly, a tune
that those born Christian might recognize as a church hymn. The tune
trails off as Bloody Sky growls, and he stands, water and all, to peer
in Bloody Sky's direction.
Derrick whurfs in alarm. More Garou, guys. Let's book. We don't want
this guy to get caught before we've set everything up.
Derrick tenses even more. Wyrm, even.
Dusty mumbles something under his breath. "If it's Wyrmy, I say we stand
and fight."
Bloody Sky flexes his huge, taloned paws. He begins to move forward,
with more stealth than he evidenced on the way here.
Bloody Sky continues to move into the wind with surprising silence for
his bulk. He does not look around to see if the Garou follow.
Dusty does follow, first shifting to lupus to keep up with the lumbering
bear. He does not look back to see if the others follow.
Dusty shifts into Lupus form.
Derrick follows, to be sure.
Bloody Sky and the Garou make their way back, cautiously. Soon, the
stench of the living begins to override the smell of the dead,
underlying more and more the need for stelth. Keeping downwind, the
group can finally see the enemy which fills the air with yips and
grunts. The Spirals and formori are apparently deep within a ritual.
At least, that's the only explaination that comes immediately to mind
for the five deformed crinos that are straining to relieve their
bowels over the ashes and corpses. Half a dozen more Dancers circle
the body, with as many formori surrounding the group in a ragged
circle facing outward to the woods. As fate would have it, the formori
facing the woods in roughly the direction of the Gaian group seems to
be having trouble with the sunlight, his eyes leaking pinkish tears.
No alarm has yet been raised.
Dusty flattens himself silently in the foliage, staring in unbridled
horro r at the scene before him. His ears quiver with rage, but he
somehow manages to hold himself down, watching and waiting to move.
Derrick flattens immediately, suppressing a growl.
Bloody Sky seems the most sickened of the Gaian forces here, restraining
his rage at such sacrilege with an effort. Finally, he begins to back
up, back the way the group had come.
Slowly and with great effort, Dusty forces himself to back off as well,
still trembling with rage a
Derrick backs slowly and quietly up, an unvoiced snarl on his lips.
Bloody Sky's lips are raised from his teeth and he looks as if he has
eaten something sour. He looks at Derrick first, obviously waiting to
see what the Garou alpha decides.
Derricks hackles are definitely up. He motions in the general direction
of the Gurahl caves, and then in the general direction of the Get
Sept, and mimes, with his paws, two groups bashing into a central
point. He doesn't expect to be understood, but one can always hope.
Dusty is clearly uncertain about this course of action but does not
argue with his Alpha.
Derrick looks at Dusty. What?
Bloody Sky pauses, his dark eyes hard on the Fang. He then indicates
Dillan and takes a few steps in the direction of the Gurahl den.
Apparently he wishes the spirit-speaker to go with him.
Dusty turns his head towards Derrick. Are you certain the Get will not
attack the bears first?
Derrick had not considered this. I am _not_ certain, but I should think
that if the bears are obviously attacking the Spirals, and if the
Second Law says to fight Wyrm, not bear, then there can be at least a
brief truce while each side fights the common enemy. Perhaps something
may come of this.
Dusty flicks an ear. This one believes that the Get consider the bears
to be of the Enemy. And have you ever known Get to look at the depth
of the water before jumping in?
Derrick stares at where they just came from. What would you do, then?
Dusty considers that. Call either one or the other, but not both. If the
Get come, then ~Bloody-Sky~ may serve as our example. The Get may be
less likely to attack a lone one who fights with us, then a whole
horde descending on them, no matter who they fight.
Derrick cocks an eyebrow. There are _at least_ 11 of the Dancers, and a
goodly number of fomori. Is it not logical to get as many to fight
them as possible?
Dusty whurfs soft agreement. So long as there are not so many that we
turn on one another.
Derrick whuffs agreement. Dillan can explain that. We will fetch the
Get. Yes?
Dusty chuffs agreement. One of us should find ~Odinson~.
Dusty steps into the clearing from the forest beyond.
Back at the Caern, Crushes-The-Wyrm is talking with the Alpha and
Warder. All three seem very tense.
Derrick skids to a halt, panting, and waits to be recognized.
Dusty lopes in on Derrick's heels, their run apparently fast if not
long.
Odinson motions the pack of visitors forward, to join the conversation
already in progress.
Derrick appraches, only bristling a little bit, now. Sir.
Odinson asks, ~What did you discover?~
Dusty follows, letting Derrick talk first, though he still seems
impatient.
Derrick reports. There are currently at least 11 Dancers and 6 Fomori
cavorting around where the dead Spirals were burned not long ago.
Derrick motions to Dusty to say his pitch, if he so chooses.
Dusty indicates agreement, and adds that what they weere doing does not
bear repeating.
Odinson's expression darkens. ~Worse, then. Hammer-of-Justice slew two
fomori east of here. It would seem they have arrived in numbers.~
Crushes-The-Wyrm, in Crinos form, growls in the back of his throat.
The head of the Dancer he killed is hanging from his belt.
Dusty pauses for a moment, then swishes his tail. What they were doing
reminded this one of the defiled pool three suns ago.
Crushes-The-Wyrm says, ~So the bears are in league with our new threat.~
He doesn't seem at all surprised.
Derrick says, firmly, No.
Odinson raises an eyebrow. ~No?~
Dusty seems to disagree with that. One of the bears led us to where
they hide.
Derrick states, the bears are Wyrm free, and the bears wish to crush the
Wyrm as well. Dillan is going to gather them to help in this fight.
Derrick er, Blackmane and Quicksilver.
Crushes-The-Wyrm seems outraged at the thought of fighting alongside the
bears, but Odinson keeps a cooler head. ~What makes you think this
isn't a trap, to lead us into the open so they can crush us between
them? The bears are older than the Garou, and may well have ways of
hiding their taint from our Gifts.~
Dusty indicates disagreement. The one who led us to their hiding place
was as sickened as this one was.
Calls-The-Wyrm simply snorts. ~Or so he acted.~
Derrick says, slowly, I have watched bears in the wild. They are a
straightforward creature. This bear, he was sickened by the Wyrm
taint. He washed himself of it, after he saw the bones. When we came
back and saw the Spirals, it was all he could do to stop himself from
attacking them then and there.
Derrick asks quietly, would you rather not have allies in the fight?
Odinson holds up a hand, calling for silence. ~Did you have a Forseti
judge the truth of their words?~
Dusty tilts his head. Perhaps you are right. Perhaps not. One does not
fight the Enemy with a doubtful heart. This one will fight these... A
disgusted whuff makes his point clearere than words. If you choose to
join him, then more glory to you.
Derrick heaves a sigh. Rhya, you know we have no half moons among us.
Odinson looks at Calls-The-Moon and Crushes-The-Wyrm. ~Hammer of Justice
will meet with the bears. You will lead them there. If the Gurahl pass
the scrutiny of our Forseti and Godi, then we'll allow them to join us
in this fight.~
Derrick flicks an ear in barely controlled irritation. We will have to
hurry. And there is a slight language barrier. But let us go prove our
truthfulness, indeed.
Odinson doesn't seem particularly worried about the language barrier.
The group sets off, this time with Hammer-of-Justice.
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