[Kora] hey, were you soliciting a scene? (grins) or waiting for someone?
to Fire-Claws
[Fire-Claws] (Nah I was soliciting for a scene)
[Kora] The sky is bright and clear, the lake still and dark. The moon is nearly gone, the barest silver curve, slowly sinking in the west. The bright lights of the city are behind them, occluding the stars, but the stars are visible, pricked out against the dak velvet of the eastern horizon, where sky turns into water, where water turns into sky.
The graves of the Fenrir dead are recently cleared of the usual autumn detritus - drifting leaves, windblown dust, the odd bit of trash tumbled past - over, under, through - the chainlink fence that circles the place. Truth-in-Frenzy's is the last grave she cleans, and when finished, the tall, confident Skald crumbles up an egg roll over the dark earth. It is followed by the fingerbone, the last joint with a needle-thin claw attached, of a recent kill. Her offerings finished, she stands, rising from her easy position low on her haunches, and glances off over the edge of the lake, the dark horizon.
[Fire-Claws] The caern was one of the few places in the scab that he felt even remotely comfortable. The place were the scab's influence didn't feel so oppressive and the weaver didn't seem to isolate him from the natural world. It was a safe haven, even if it was always beset with the minions of the wyrm at every turn. But that was what they were all about.
He did not understand the graves of the fallen. The idea of burying or burning the dead. They were gone, the bodies would return to Gaia on their own, there was no need to speed it up with fire. But monkeys were a strange lot indeed.
So he pads through the graves, eyes kept open until the scent of a familiar hits his nose, his Jarl was here. It would be no hard effort to find her. And he would stand out, a lone wolf among the graves.
[Kora] "Fire-Claws," Kora greets him, low-voiced. She's tall for a monkey, healthy as all Garou are, with pale, shining hair that shows off both her health and her youth, pale skin, and a lean physique - boyish, except for the distinct curve of her hips. Her hair is never allowed to hang loose. Instead, she arrests it, ties it back upon itself, twists it up outof her way as it is now.
There's a certain curve to her mouth that every human reads as a half-smile, even when she's still, off-guard, even when she's pensive. That curve deepens, minutely, as the wolf appears amidst the graves. Dusting the crumbs from the crumbled food (the smell is sharp, greasy and rich) on her thigh, she looks back to him from the lake. "I'm glad to see you again." She glances from him, up ad away, out in the direction of the Brotherhood, then back to the wolf. "Roman and I hunted with your Alpha some nights past. How do you find your pack?"
[Fire-Claws] He tries his hardest to stay in his natural skin as he can, but it was difficult to do so. The scab was full of humans, there were no places that one could find a wolf, except maybe the zoo. But he be damned if he let himself become a prisioner to monkey amusement. That was not the way of Fernis. He whuffed and postured.
{ws}"We are no longer pack. We lost our connection to Valkyrie."
It was a simple fact. The pack was no pack when there was nothing to unify them. That was it, without rainer they could not be considered a pack.
{ws}"But Night's Reprieve is a good alpha."
[Kora] "So quickly?" Kora returns, quiet, dark eyes intent. There is fleeting moment of startlement written on her features. Her hands are tucked neatly into the front pockets of her dedicated jeans. Over them, she wears a cotton hoodie, and a thermal under a t-shirt, as she has no fur in her natural form to protect her from the cold. Then, with a certain note of formality. "I'm sorry for your loss, then. Will you and Night's Reprieve seek patronage from another spirit of Fenris' brood?"
There is a hint of wind in the air tonight that makes the cold air at the lakeside colder. It pulls the tendrils of Kora's loosely bound hair and sends them streaming across her pale cheek until she unearths a fineboned hand from her deep pockets, pushes the threads aside. "Or perhaps another spirit, then?"
[Fire-Claws] {ws} "Without Rainer, we cannot be connected."
He padded around another marker, moving between the graves as he steps. Wolves around other predators are never so passive as maybe other humans were. But he thought about the idea, he wanted a pack. Needed one. But thinking so far ahead, of another spirit or anything like that was not something he could easily grasp.
{ws} "Not sure. I will need to speak with Night's Repreive about it. But what did you hunt with my alpha?"
[Kora] "Ranier left, I take it?" the Skald asks, a certain fatalism implicit in her tone, and a certain half-swallowed judgment lingering there, too. Kora is walking too, through the graves, down the faint, nearly flat slope toward the edge of the dark lake. Her hands are still in her pockets, her gait is lean and even, a long-legged sweep as she moves more from the hip than from the waist. "It happens here more than most places, because the Sept is young; we have few kin attached, few cubs. New Garou must come from elsewhere, and those who come seeking glory or fame, or just a different shape to the world leave again, leave their packs and then the packs, too, leave.
"It cannot be pleasing to Valkyrie, or any spirit, to see her packs dissolve under such circumstances - not because their purpose was finished or their objective done." Kora speaks musingly, here, looking off toward the surface of the still lake. "I hope that you and Night's Reprieve will find a new patron, make a renewed committment to the totem. If not, you are welcome to run with my pack until you find another."
He asks what they fought, and she gives him a glancing look, sidelong, then looks back toward the water. "A kinswoman found certain signs suggesting Garou activity in an area. We investigated and discovered a pack of cursed Garou engaged in a black rite. My Ragabash - Fate - discovered tunnels leading to the interior. Night's Reprieve and Roman, with Tongue-Twisted, Bone Grinder, and Dreams in Summer Snow followed Fate through the tunnels and burst into the room, to stop the cursed ones from completing their ritual. While they attacked inside I took down the outside guards, to keep them from running to the aid of their packmates."
[Fire-Claws] He padded alongside his Jarl as they moved to the dark lake edge. It was hard to imagine how far the lake stretched. Beyond his sight was almost impossible to believe, like the end of the very world. And yet he has come to learn there is much more than jusy this land.
He listens with full attention at what this Sept has and what happens here. Those from Storm Hammer told him of such the blight of this caern. But much is the way of those born in the scab. Difficult to be so far from Gaia breath and touch.
{ws} "Kinwoman..." like it triggers something in his mind. " I am sorry for Cigney. She was a bold monkey kin."
And as that seems to registers something else in his mind, like a switchback path in the forest, running with strange twists and turns.
{ws} "Kin in this city are confusing. Thinking they are just as strong as us, go out without even letting knowing of their guardians. I met another Fianna kin, something strange yet familiar about her. With a silverfang one. Alone. I don't think the fianna kin know of Tongue-twister, just as I don't."
[Kora] "I liked her, too," Kora returns, her voice low. There is a flash of anger underneath, the subtle twinge of rage inside her that spasms and quiets and passes. "Cigney. The kin here though - it's a human city. They're both more independent here and more important to us, to maintain the veil, to keep our presence from the humans, yeah?" Then she breathes out again, nostrils flaring with faint, lingering irritation. "Tongue-Twister is a mule. She acts like a beaten thing, shies from leadership and responsibility, follows a Shadow Lord. Strong enough in battle, but weak in too many other ways. I've found other Fianna kin without leadership, or knowledge of their tribe in the city. Someone needs to ensure she takes on he responsibilities, or claim her kin."
to Fire-Claws
[Fire-Claws] (Nah I was soliciting for a scene)
[Kora] The sky is bright and clear, the lake still and dark. The moon is nearly gone, the barest silver curve, slowly sinking in the west. The bright lights of the city are behind them, occluding the stars, but the stars are visible, pricked out against the dak velvet of the eastern horizon, where sky turns into water, where water turns into sky.
The graves of the Fenrir dead are recently cleared of the usual autumn detritus - drifting leaves, windblown dust, the odd bit of trash tumbled past - over, under, through - the chainlink fence that circles the place. Truth-in-Frenzy's is the last grave she cleans, and when finished, the tall, confident Skald crumbles up an egg roll over the dark earth. It is followed by the fingerbone, the last joint with a needle-thin claw attached, of a recent kill. Her offerings finished, she stands, rising from her easy position low on her haunches, and glances off over the edge of the lake, the dark horizon.
[Fire-Claws] The caern was one of the few places in the scab that he felt even remotely comfortable. The place were the scab's influence didn't feel so oppressive and the weaver didn't seem to isolate him from the natural world. It was a safe haven, even if it was always beset with the minions of the wyrm at every turn. But that was what they were all about.
He did not understand the graves of the fallen. The idea of burying or burning the dead. They were gone, the bodies would return to Gaia on their own, there was no need to speed it up with fire. But monkeys were a strange lot indeed.
So he pads through the graves, eyes kept open until the scent of a familiar hits his nose, his Jarl was here. It would be no hard effort to find her. And he would stand out, a lone wolf among the graves.
[Kora] "Fire-Claws," Kora greets him, low-voiced. She's tall for a monkey, healthy as all Garou are, with pale, shining hair that shows off both her health and her youth, pale skin, and a lean physique - boyish, except for the distinct curve of her hips. Her hair is never allowed to hang loose. Instead, she arrests it, ties it back upon itself, twists it up outof her way as it is now.
There's a certain curve to her mouth that every human reads as a half-smile, even when she's still, off-guard, even when she's pensive. That curve deepens, minutely, as the wolf appears amidst the graves. Dusting the crumbs from the crumbled food (the smell is sharp, greasy and rich) on her thigh, she looks back to him from the lake. "I'm glad to see you again." She glances from him, up ad away, out in the direction of the Brotherhood, then back to the wolf. "Roman and I hunted with your Alpha some nights past. How do you find your pack?"
[Fire-Claws] He tries his hardest to stay in his natural skin as he can, but it was difficult to do so. The scab was full of humans, there were no places that one could find a wolf, except maybe the zoo. But he be damned if he let himself become a prisioner to monkey amusement. That was not the way of Fernis. He whuffed and postured.
{ws}"We are no longer pack. We lost our connection to Valkyrie."
It was a simple fact. The pack was no pack when there was nothing to unify them. That was it, without rainer they could not be considered a pack.
{ws}"But Night's Reprieve is a good alpha."
[Kora] "So quickly?" Kora returns, quiet, dark eyes intent. There is fleeting moment of startlement written on her features. Her hands are tucked neatly into the front pockets of her dedicated jeans. Over them, she wears a cotton hoodie, and a thermal under a t-shirt, as she has no fur in her natural form to protect her from the cold. Then, with a certain note of formality. "I'm sorry for your loss, then. Will you and Night's Reprieve seek patronage from another spirit of Fenris' brood?"
There is a hint of wind in the air tonight that makes the cold air at the lakeside colder. It pulls the tendrils of Kora's loosely bound hair and sends them streaming across her pale cheek until she unearths a fineboned hand from her deep pockets, pushes the threads aside. "Or perhaps another spirit, then?"
[Fire-Claws] {ws} "Without Rainer, we cannot be connected."
He padded around another marker, moving between the graves as he steps. Wolves around other predators are never so passive as maybe other humans were. But he thought about the idea, he wanted a pack. Needed one. But thinking so far ahead, of another spirit or anything like that was not something he could easily grasp.
{ws} "Not sure. I will need to speak with Night's Repreive about it. But what did you hunt with my alpha?"
[Kora] "Ranier left, I take it?" the Skald asks, a certain fatalism implicit in her tone, and a certain half-swallowed judgment lingering there, too. Kora is walking too, through the graves, down the faint, nearly flat slope toward the edge of the dark lake. Her hands are still in her pockets, her gait is lean and even, a long-legged sweep as she moves more from the hip than from the waist. "It happens here more than most places, because the Sept is young; we have few kin attached, few cubs. New Garou must come from elsewhere, and those who come seeking glory or fame, or just a different shape to the world leave again, leave their packs and then the packs, too, leave.
"It cannot be pleasing to Valkyrie, or any spirit, to see her packs dissolve under such circumstances - not because their purpose was finished or their objective done." Kora speaks musingly, here, looking off toward the surface of the still lake. "I hope that you and Night's Reprieve will find a new patron, make a renewed committment to the totem. If not, you are welcome to run with my pack until you find another."
He asks what they fought, and she gives him a glancing look, sidelong, then looks back toward the water. "A kinswoman found certain signs suggesting Garou activity in an area. We investigated and discovered a pack of cursed Garou engaged in a black rite. My Ragabash - Fate - discovered tunnels leading to the interior. Night's Reprieve and Roman, with Tongue-Twisted, Bone Grinder, and Dreams in Summer Snow followed Fate through the tunnels and burst into the room, to stop the cursed ones from completing their ritual. While they attacked inside I took down the outside guards, to keep them from running to the aid of their packmates."
[Fire-Claws] He padded alongside his Jarl as they moved to the dark lake edge. It was hard to imagine how far the lake stretched. Beyond his sight was almost impossible to believe, like the end of the very world. And yet he has come to learn there is much more than jusy this land.
He listens with full attention at what this Sept has and what happens here. Those from Storm Hammer told him of such the blight of this caern. But much is the way of those born in the scab. Difficult to be so far from Gaia breath and touch.
{ws} "Kinwoman..." like it triggers something in his mind. " I am sorry for Cigney. She was a bold monkey kin."
And as that seems to registers something else in his mind, like a switchback path in the forest, running with strange twists and turns.
{ws} "Kin in this city are confusing. Thinking they are just as strong as us, go out without even letting knowing of their guardians. I met another Fianna kin, something strange yet familiar about her. With a silverfang one. Alone. I don't think the fianna kin know of Tongue-twister, just as I don't."
[Kora] "I liked her, too," Kora returns, her voice low. There is a flash of anger underneath, the subtle twinge of rage inside her that spasms and quiets and passes. "Cigney. The kin here though - it's a human city. They're both more independent here and more important to us, to maintain the veil, to keep our presence from the humans, yeah?" Then she breathes out again, nostrils flaring with faint, lingering irritation. "Tongue-Twister is a mule. She acts like a beaten thing, shies from leadership and responsibility, follows a Shadow Lord. Strong enough in battle, but weak in too many other ways. I've found other Fianna kin without leadership, or knowledge of their tribe in the city. Someone needs to ensure she takes on he responsibilities, or claim her kin."
Post a Comment