Log edited with Logedit 2.6.6pl on Wed Nov 8 09:04:30 EST 1995
Using configuration file /turquoise/homes/ammer/.logeditrc
Editing out: arrive/left @mail ANSI tf-messages
Regexp stripping: Queue, Semaphore, ^Huh\? +Type, ^I don't see that
Word-wrapping at 72, 0, 2
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Quiet looks over at Alexander. ~That is not restricted to your Rite of
Passage.~ She lolls her tongue, her eyes rueful, ~I learned that
lesson quite well when I took my second name.~
Ayat blinks. More than one name?
Quiet looks at Ayat and nods. ~You change thoughout your life; why
should not what you are called also change?~
Alex smiles at Noor. "Don't worry about it. You'll do fine. Just try to
remember what you've learned, and think."
Noor looks up. ~Um, yeah, Ayat, you can take another name after your
rite...~
Ayat looks bemused. Thought your name was what you *were*.
Quiet ~I was once called Snow-In-Her-Fur, after my Rite of Passage.~
Quiet chuffs. You are what you are. Your name is what you are called.
Ayat still looks puzzled, but accepts this.
Alex says "I got mine after I was kidnapped. It just kind of stuck, and
I haven't had reason to change it yet."
Alexander nods to Quiet. "Indeed. I wish I'd remembered that at the
time, though."
Noor grins at Ayat. ~Is Oscar a
Moon-calf-that-has-no-more-sense-than-an-Otter?~
Ayat thinks. What means ~calf~?
Noor hmms. ~A baby cow.~
Ayat still looks blank. ~Cow~?
Noor says, ~Kind of like a moose, Ayat. A animal that serves man,
though.~
Ayat understands now. Otters have *sense*, though.
Noor acks. ~Boy, I'm not up for this type of explanation...~
Noor nods. ~Yeah. They do.~
Ayat thinks Oscar does not have so much sense.
Noor smiles. ~I'm hardly living up to my homid name, either, so I might
change it too..or probably not.~
Alex says "What's it mean?"
Noor says "Noor? It means 'light'. Tends to refer to the light of
truth."
Alex smiles.
Quiet sits up. ~Names have power, Noor. There are many less noble names
that that of 'light-of-truth' to shelter under.~
Noor says "And I really _doubt_ that I've been hitting people upside the
head with clueboards as of late, so, it really doesn't fit."
Alex nods.
Alex says "You will."
Alexander grins at Noor. "Well, be glad you didn't get stuck with
something like Dumber-Than-Batshit, Learns-Slowly, or
Alexander-Seeks-Death...."
Alexander considers. "Though, I guess that third one would be pretty
silly on you..."
Quiet flicks her ears. ~Your name can serve as a reminder for you then,
or a goal.~ She glances at Alexander, ~Names such as those are usually
given to break one out of a negative cycle.~
Noor grins back at Alexander. "No, Mom gave me the name Fetchstorm, and
_that_ I'm living up to."
Quiet ~Mine is such a name. Luna's laughter is hardly a comforting or
honorable thing.~
Alexander turns toward Quiet, curious. "What does your name mean, then?"
Alex says, ~Windrunner's not much better.~
Noor cocks her head at Quiet. ~But it is a very calm-sounding name.~
Quiet chuffs in amusement. ~That is is, Noor.~ She glances at Alexander,
~It means what it says, Moon-Laughs-Quiet. Or are you asking of the
story behind my second naming?~
Alexander nods. "Yeah, I guess that's what I'm asking. If I may."
Quiet shifts, considering the young Ahroun. She then nods, ~It might
show you that even Children can fall to Rage, and how that is not
always Gaia's will. Though~ she looks around, ~Should we take this to
the Story Tree or do all want to share?~
Alexander glances around.
Noor leans forward. ~I would like to hear the tale, Quiet-rhya.~
Alex says "I'd like to hear it."
Ayat listens.
Alexander turns back to Quiet, grinning. "Looks like you're stuck with
us, rhya."
Quiet chuffs in amusement.
Quiet settles down to tell her story, ~My story begins many moons ago,
with a younger Garou called Snow-In-Her-Fur.~
Quiet ~Snow-In-Her-Fur knew of her tribe, but her tribe did not have the
raising of her. She found the call to peace a difficult thing to
understand, and left the caern as Ronin to find Gaia's truth alone.~
Quiet swivels her head from side to side, looking at those watching her.
~A Ronin's life is harsh and difficult. She faced death at the hands
of the Wyrm and Weaver more than once, no closer to the truth than
when she began.~
Alexander listens silently.
On the southern curve, Song Weaver comes in from the woodland to the
south.
Ayat shivers.
On the southern curve, Song Weaver heads into the center.
Noor brushes her hair out of her face...
At the center, Song Weaver takes in the scents in the clearing of the
caern, and heads toward the fire.
At the center, Song Weaver heads northeast to the fire pit.
Quiet stands and paces, mimicking the long journey. ~She travelled for
more than seven moons, wandering where her paws took her, forsaking
her birth form almost entirely in order to draw closer to Gaia.~
Quiet settles on her haunches again. ~And yet her Rage still burned in
her blood, and she felt no closer to Gaia's peace.~
Song Weaver watches Moon Laughs Quiet silently, respecting the story,
but her nose and ears twicht frequently as she studies those she does
not know.
Noor puts her chin on her fists, regarding the speaker and making no
sound to distract.
Quiet looks quietly at Alex for a moment. She then looks back to
Alexander and continues, ~There are those that trap our kind. Those
that would gladly feed on the lifeblood that so burns, using and
perverting our strength.~
Ayat's ears twitch.
Noor says quietly, ~Like mages, rhya?~
Quiet flattens her ears slightly, ~This one was little more than a cub,
and she fell into such a trap.~ She looks at Noor and nods, ~Not all
mages, Noor. But some. And there are others besides the World-Shapers.
The Wyrm can come in many guises.~
Alex nods quietly.
Noor nods. ~Thank you for the explanation.~
Quiet chuffs at Noor, then continues, ~The young Garou Raged in vain.
The trap had been well-constructed, and held its prey no matter her
struggles. And, being alone, the Ronin had no pack or tribe to spring
her from her trap.~
Quiet howls, her voice strangly resonant and vibrating with remembered
Rage, ~Come take me! Coward, who must trap rather than fighting!~
Ayat jumps back, involuntarily.
Alexander smiles faintly, eyes on the storyteller.
Quiet drops her muzzle and waits for a few heartbeats, looking from side
to side.
Alex waits, attention focused on Quiet.
Quiet says, quietly, ~Then it came. At first I thought it was just a
trick of the Umbra, as the shadows cast by the crescent moon were
thick. But it came and spoke with me.~
Quiet says, the strange *thrumm* back in her voice, ~Earth-child, would
you bargin for your freedom?~
Quiet growls. I do not bargin with cowards and trappers.
Quiet laughs, the chuffs vibrating with a tinkling undercurrent, ~Cub, I
am not the one that trapped you. But I can offer you your freedom.~
Quiet looks around. ~The spirit grew closer. It was almost formless, and
glimmered like sun-on-water.~
Ayat blinks, and stares at Quiet.
Quiet ~It offered a bargin she could accept; to offer her aid to a
nearby pack. The details of that...are for another story.~
Quiet ~Before he died, the Shadowhorn Theurge told her what kind of
spirit had freed her from her trap. One of Luna's attendants: a Lune.~
Noor frowns confusedly.
Song Weaver blows gently, satisfaction.
Quiet curls her tail around her back feet, ~Snow-In-Her-Fur stayed with
Shadowhorn. Years passed. She gained the Rank of Fostern at the Sept
of the Burning Sky, if grudgingly. But still she did not find peace.~
Quiet lolls her tongue, once again rueful, ~So this one went on a
Seeking of her own. A seeking to find the one that sent a spirit to
aid her. A quest that took her into the High Umbra.~
Quiet looks around. ~The paths of the Umbra are treacherous. This one,
through battle, guile, and aid, made it to the edge of Luna's realm.~
Quiet stands, taking a few steps forward, then stopping and changing
direction slightly, before repeating, "Many glittering paths opened
before her. But she followed the correct path, willful in her need for
an answer.~
Hereward slowly walks forward to join you, nodding as he does so.
On the southern curve, Oscar comes in from the woodland to the south.
Quiet stops, dead-still, ~Then one came, like the one of before.~
Quiet calls out, ~Cub, why do you come here?~
Song Weaver growls softly as the stranger approaches.
On the southern curve, Oscar doesn't even look around the wheel. He just
heads towards the fire pit.
Quiet growls. I am no longer cub, or I could not be here. I wish to see
your mistress.
On the southern curve, Oscar heads into the center.
At the center, Oscar slips over quietly towards the fire pit, so as not
to disturb.
At the center, Oscar heads northeast to the fire pit.
Oscar nods slightly as he takes a seat.
Quiet laughs lightly, chuffing, ~Cub, she does not wish to see you. You
intrude here. Go back to your land, child of Earth.~
Hereward tiredly drops to his knees beside the fire, and listens in
silence.
Quiet advances a few steps and growls, I have not come so far to be
turned back so easily. She must tell me that herself.
Quiet looks around, her mistmatched eyes widening, ~More spirits
materialized. Soon she was surrounded by glimmering forms, all
laughing and pushing her gently back toward the way she had come.~
On the southern curve, Echen comes in from the woodland to the south.
Quiet snarls and rears back, ~She shifted into Crinos from the shape of
the dire wolf, her eyes nearly mad at being denied this close to her
goal.~
Quiet howls, ~I *shall* not go.~
Quiet looks around, her eyes sad, ~And so she began fighting the
children of Luna. They fell beneath her claws, but still more came.
And more. And more. Until she was near smothered under their mass
alone.~
On the southern curve, Echen walks, quietly, free of the woods, hands
thrust into his coat pockets. He pauses in the middle of the southern
path of the Wheel, eyes on Quiet.
Quiet tilts her head questioningly, ~And then, her Rage simply drained
away. She looked around her, at the devestation she had caused, and
felt...shame.~
Quiet says quietly in a full, low, voice, ~Child, why do you fight here?
Why do you use the gift I bring you to destroy my servants?~
As he sinks onto his hindlegs, Hereward's shape very subtly begins to
shimmer and become a little smaller.
Hereward contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Hereward shifts into Lupus form.
Quiet cowers, flashing her throat and curling her tail beneath her. ~She
shifted into lupus before the white wolf that questioned her. The
wolf's coat glowed like silver, and her eyes held all the knowlege in
the world and beyond.~
Quiet whines wordlessly.
Alex listens intently.
On the southern curve, Echen walks, swiftly, towards the center, eyes
still on Quiet.
On the southern curve, Echen heads into the center.
Quiet stands straighter and laughs, before saying again in that same
quiet voice, ~Child, you come here seeking answers, but the answers
are within yourself. The peace of the Children does not preclude the
Rage of my gift. It merely sharpens its focus against your enemies,
rather than each other. Go, and spread that peace. Remember, the moon
burns white against the shadows, but she also laughs quietly with the
wind over the water. The silver wolf began to turn away, then added almost
as an afterthought. And since my gift is such a burden to you, I will
lighten your gifting, until you are ready for it.~
Quiet looks around. ~And Snow-In-Her-Fur found herself back in the field from
which
she started her journey. And she took the name Moon-Laughs-Quiet to
remind herself that Rage and peace can both be used to help her
mother, Gaia.~
Song Weaver yawns.
At the center, Thunder-of-Gaia pads in from the woods, he glances at the
pit then heads for the center. He lowers his muzzle to the Fianna
elder before lying down near the table.
At the center, Echen pauses at the last turn of the tale, nods, briefly
to the Talon, then makes his way towards the fire.
At the center, Echen heads northeast to the fire pit.
Alex says, ~Thank you for the story, Quiet.~
Hereward is grateful also.
Quiet nods at Alex. She lies back down.
Noor nods silently to Quiet with deep respect for her tale.
Alexander nods to Quiet. "Very well-told, Quiet-rhya."
Song Weaver flicks an ear, yawning again in satisfaction at the story.
She notices Echen's approach, and lowers her head, tail, and ears in
respect.
Echen's eyes move from Quiet to Song Weaver, and narrow slightly.
Without a word, he settles into a crouch near the fire's edge and
turns his attention to Hereward, expression expectant.
Home Main Log Index Quiet Log Index General Log Index