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Andrea points toward the cloth-shrouded fetish, but doesn't pull it out.
"It's a binding talisman. The spirit inside is Wendigo, like the ones
we heard in the cave. It's aging unnaturally fast, though, perhaps
because of the weakening of the lock." She looks at Soren, then back
to Scott. "If you hold with that analogy, this is why I think the
Consumer-of-Mountains has not yet completely broken free. The fetish
is cracked, but not yet broken." She pauses for questions, with the
air of someone not yet done.

Scott takes a deep breath, and says,"I assume it can be ... shored up,
fixed?"

Andrea simply nods.

Scott says "Alright. We'll post guards then until we can do the Rite. I
suppose that's all, unless there is something else you can think of?"

Soren looks over at Scott. "Prepare yourself... inside. You may become a
legend."

Scott snorts softly, a wryly amused grin coming over his features. "I
doubt it. But we'll see."

Andrea shakes her head. "Not right now."

Scott smiles at Andrea, and moves over to set a hand lightly on her
shoulder. "She'll see us through, friend. Sleep well if you can. You
know where to find me. Gaia's grace stay with you." He turns and
starts to go and then stops, turning back. "Andrea, has Dusty told you
what I'm doing to try and help him?"

Andrea shakes her head, her interest caught at the mention of her
tribemate.

Scott takes a deep breath and exhales it before saying,"I'm doing what I
can to make his dreams easier. Dreamwalking there so he can at least
get a good night's rest most nights. I'm not sure how much it's
helping overall, but at least he does seem to be able to sleep. Most
nights." A small, curving smile graces his lips,"I thought it proper
though since you summoned and helped convince the Chimerling that
taught me to dreamwalk."

Andrea 's face relaxes into a smile. "It is a fitting payment. Thank
you. If I can help, let me know."

Scott smiles softly and nods, murmuring,"I will," before looks to
Soren,"G'night, my friend. Sleep well." With that he turns and exits
the cave.

Soren fiddles again with the fire, feeding it carefully: a task Soren
has become more interested in and diligent at over the past few weeks.
"This is dangerous work we're about, Andrea."

Andrea nods in silent agreement, moving to make sure the Fury is
sleeping comfortably. She then slips to her accustomed spot near the
flame and sits in a smooth motion. She waits a few moments, then asks,
"Soren, why do you hate world-shapers?"

"Hate's a very strong word. Too strong when it comes to me and Benders,"
says Soren quietly as he sits back against the cavewall near the fire
pit. "Why do I dislike them? They think only of themselves and nothing
of the Mother."

Andrea doesn't stare directly at Soren, falling back into the lupus ways
as her tension increases subtlely. Her fingers pick at the bottom of
her shirt before she purposely stills them. Her voice is sincere. "Not
all of them, Soren. Many of them, yes. But some of their followings
have a great concern for Gaia and the harm that has come to her."

Soren frowns as he looks into the fire, tension less evident in his
response. "Well, I've not met any of those kind. Hell, I've not met
any of them to begin with. Just seen evidence of them."

Andrea is silent for a few breaths before continuing. "It's funny how
one bad thing can overshadow so many good. When we met Nicodemus over
the fetish, I thought of that. He's had little experience with Garou,
I think, but he's ready to damn us all because someone treated him
ungently. With world-warpers, it's worse. One can do enough damage to
wipe the many smaller stories of those that have helped completely
away."

Soren looks over at the Gaian, studying her for a few silent moments.
"You are married to one?"

Andrea takes in a deep breath, then says, "In the laws of man, probably
not. Not now that I've lived here for going on three years, and we
never took formal vows. But he is my mate, yes. And he is not the
first world-shaper I have known."

Soren reaches up a finger to wipe moisture from his blind eye, a
familiar gesture to those who know the Get well, a gesture of thinking
rather than emotion. "He must be of the camp who knows something of
the Mother and our duty."

Andrea nods. "Tradition. They call it a tradition. It's rather like our
tribes." She looks into the flames, then says abruptly, "Their
tradition were the ones executed during the Puritan purges, by flames
and drowning. The wisepeople, those that know the power of blood and
spirit, of healing with herbs. There are two traditions most often
allied with our people. Theirs, called the Verbena, and the
Dreamspeakers, the shamans."

Soren nods slowly, listening with his arms draped over knees drawn up to
his chest. The Get's silence seems to ask for more.

Andrea looks down at her hands, then raises her right hand to her face
under her own eye. "Doesn't mean you can trust them just because of
who they are, any more than every Shadow Lord is a backstabber, or
every Gaian a pacifist. Chloe calls herself a Dreamspeaker, but she
has no sense of what's mage business and what's Garou. Such overlap
has caused tremendous problems, and still she doesn't withdraw. But
she has Brian's protection...and she has not caused damage in recent
times. Maybe at last she has learned."

Soren takes a deep breath. "You live among the Garou and you learn... or
you die quickly." The Get runs a hand along his jaw, feeling the
stubble. "You alway preach avoiding the stereotypes, the quick
judgements. Are you sure you're not more philodox than theurge?" Soren
smiles, a subtle playful grin.

Andrea laughs, her face relaxing in humor. "Did you know people used to
mistake me for one, before I was Ritemaster? I think it's in part
because I have led the Children so long, and I have to try to temper
even my own judgments. And I know it's also in part because the moon
/was/ waxing full on my birth. I think it's why I am not often
troubled with visions."

Soren watches his packmate as she speaks, nodding slowly. "My moon was
waning... fast." He pulls the lid of his blind eye down again.
"Visions... are a gift. Troubling or not."

Andrea pauses, then says, "Most theurges I have respected say so.
Eligio. Sepdet. You. Even Joseph often seeks them." She smiles wryly
at her packmate. "Even among the odd, I am odd."

"Now you're boasting," says Soren as he leans forward to push a few
coals in toward the center of the fire. "When we finish with this
fetish business, Andrea, I may ask for the pack to help me with a
personal project."

Andrea chuckles, but doesn't protest the gibe. "Sure," she says without
hesitation. "What do you need?"

Soren looks back at the fire. "From before my Firsting I was trained to
be a smith. I can't tell you the hours he made me work, Stonefist. For
the last... I don't know, four months, six months, something like
that, I've been feeling the pull of the forge." The Get looks back at
Andrea. "I want to build an umbral forge here," he points to the
ground. "On the island... or nearby. But to do it, I'm going to need
help from the pack."

Andrea nods slowly, "And umbral, so the smoke won't draw attention? It
has to be harder to construct there than here."

"Oh, for more reasons than that," says Soren quietly. "And yes, it is
harder to build there than here."

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