[Roman Turner] He had called them together, requesting Starla turn up at the Church also. Even going so far to escort her there if need be, so they could have a long overdue sit down and talk. So far he'd gotten things all from one side and needed both for his own peace of mind. A few things needed ironing out so the kin in the Pack weren't scared and because all the recent drama was sucking his very soul dry.
"First, thanks y'all for showing up. Second, I don't reckon this is going to be entirely pleasant, but it's got to be done."
He'd settled on the back of one of the pews, booted feet resting in the seat. A bottle of water was held dangling between his open knees.
[Starla] She was quiet during the walk to the Church, bottom lip tucked inward as she chews on it absently. A hand lifted to catch and control the stray tendrils of black hair that curls along the line of her jaw. She keeps her head down, eyes on ahead of her on the ground. In the Church, Starla finds a pew to sit down in, drawing her legs up to tuck and fold her feet under her thighs, cross-legged.
She looks up at the others when Roman speaks.
[Fire Claws] There were times that he had missed the Sept he was born at. The discomfort of what happened when drama occurred was one such event. He had already forgotten what had transpired between him and Starla several nights ago. What had been done seem immaterial to wolf born already. A war needed to be fought and he did not waste his time with anything that did not involve ensuring the garou their glory.
However pack issues did arise and he would not negate such an issue. When asked, he would come to the gathering to discuss whatever it was that needed to be discussed. The wolf holding his skin as he paced around the large stone den when the no moon speaks, he finally plants his hind on the cold ground, his tail slowly wiping away at the ground behind him. Ear perked as he listens.
[Sorrow] Fire Claws and Sorrow both heard the request from Roman; Kora reinforced it - firmly, quietly. Beyond the reinforcement, her mind closed, solid as the heavy wooden doors that protect the sanctuary of the long-abandoned church. Roman's sitting on the back of a wooden pew; Kora's standing a few feet away, quiet for now. Heavily pregnant - they must imagine it will be any time now - with her usual dark gray sweatshirt and jeans on to chase away the chill in the sanctuary. This business is not conducted in amongst the comfort of the old ratty couches scattered under the choir loft, but closer to the transept, the altar. There's a certain ruined majesty up here; the ribs of the ceiling evident in the fast-failing light, the clouds beyond have that late evening glow from the dying sun. Half the stained glass windows are enshadowed, dark. The rest are caught between gray and brilliant. The light gleams on the surface, but is too murky to make more than incidental, watery impressions on the marble floor.
There is the scent of storms on the horizon, somewhere close. The Fenrir can feel winter's touch in the air; snow to the north, the gray ache as it reasserts itself against the coming spring.
The Skald's dark eyes flicker between Starla and Fire Claws, attention lingering first on one, then the other before it returns to Roman. Otherwise, her body language is as closed as her mindvoice. "What's this about?"
[Roman Turner] "I've got three things I want to bring out here. The first two involve Starla and Fire Claws. I am first going to say what I have been told, nothing more. Then once this can of worms has been dumped out on the table, we can hash through the mess."
His gray-blue gaze, so much like old faded denim, went from Starla to Fire Claws before he spoke again with a pointed look at Fire Claws.
"I need human ears and words for this. Oblige me by shifting to two legs, please."
Then his gaze included Sorrow.
"Starla tells me first one night Fire Claws came in covered in blood. She decided he needed help that he apparently did not need. He then proceeded to get drunk and she says he used a power as she put it, to make her want him sexually. She says she resisted because he fell asleep. That the next day they spoke of it and he said it is not so. I need both sides of that in the open. That's the first item."
[Starla]
[Sorrow] Kora's standing with her legs shoulder-width apart, hands in the pockets of her sweatshirt, pulling the waistband down below the apex of her abdomen, stretching out the warm cotton. Her hair is pale, gleaming with shifting colors reflecting from the flickering of the braziers on the marble columns, smooth against her scalp, pulled back into a heavy twist at the nape of her neck, some complex internal knot, imprecise, disordered. She cuts a glance from Roman to Starla when he is finished; her ears are bare, and the movement sends the old iron charm dangling from the inner cartilage of her right ear swinging with the movement.
Otherwise, she is still. Dark eyed and steady. "I'd like to hear what happened from you, Starla," says Kora, low-voiced. "In your own words. Then I will have Fire Claws' response."
[Fire Claws] He nodded his head when Roman asked him to take on the monkey skin and he does so to oblige the Fostern coggie. It was a slow transformation through the forms, his fur giving way as he shifts and changes. His body enlarging at first to the massive war form, muscles and sinew given way and explode to part that no creature should be able to have. And soon after the apex of his form, shift and shrink down, muscle no longer massive but contained. Skin exposed to the elements, only hidden by now by the dedicated clothes of faded and worn black jeans, ripped and tattered shirt and boots that have seen better days.
He stands there before the rest of his pack mates, leaning again a pew now as he listens to what has be said. He does not attempt to interrupt Fate~rhya as he listens. Trying to recall an event that seem years ago to the lupus born. His face contorted now as he struggles to recall the event.
[Starla] Starla draws in a deep breath, holding it in her lungs while Roman spoke; it's released slowly, rushing out of her mouth and nose in a small hiss of air. She flicks her eyes to the wolf-born, arching an eyebrow at him, she stares at him hard for several seconds, and then pulls her eyes to Roman - listening.
"Fire Claws wanted to know what it felt like to git drunk. It came out of conversation he had wit' Amy and Rain at the Broho one night, when they's drinking. I found Fire Claws injured and fetched the first aid kit wit' the intentions of cleaning up his wounds, there was a bottle of vodka sitting the table in front of him."
She flicks her gaze up, looking first to Kora and then to Roman, and finally Fire Claws, "He ain't likely gonna remember this; though, he started in on the bottle, I tried to control how much liquor he consumed. I don't what provoked it after that, maybe it was my breeding, me being too close, or the end of mating season for wolves. Next thing I know I was crawling in his lap after meeting his gaze, he did something to try and git me to mate wit' him. I come to my senses and managed to resist before he past out. I confronted him the next day, and he says I lied."
[Roman Turner] Watching Starla as she spoke, his gaze then shifted to Fire Claws with a lifted brow.
"I can tell ya, this first item troubled me and I would of let it lay for a quiet word alone, if not for other things taking place. Now, it's your turn Fire Claws. What do you recall?"
[Sorrow] Kora listens intently, dark eyes fixed on Starla. Her brow is furrowed as she contemplates the kinswoman, her attention keen and direct. When Starla finishes her story, the Skald cuts a moving glance back toward her feral packmate, the Forseti. Briefly, she searches his blunt human features. Then echoes Roman. "Everything you remember of it, beginning to end."
[Sorrow] Per + Empathy [Truthiness + FEELINGS)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 7, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
to Starla
[Sorrow] HOW DOES THAT MAKE YOU FEEL.
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 7, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1
to Starla
[Fire Claws] He scrunches his nose at the memory of it. It was hard to recall what had happened, his mind a fuzzy maze of thoughts that didn't seem to flow in chronological order like it does for humans. Thoughts come and go as she begins to speak, his smell of vodka coming to his mind. The sensation revisited when he recalls what he remembers. He shakes out his head. His words come across a mutilated as he speaks.
"Aye ramemba dat night... somewat. Afta' 'unting aye came to den. Sum banes on pack edge. Kill'd em. Cam back wit sum cuts. Starla saw me... sad needed help. Aye needed no help, wounds heal gud. Fine. But smellvodka.. recall da words of kin and..." he tried to think about what the word Rain used when she called it something else, but it seemed lost to the lupus at the moment. "... monkey fire water. Curious."
He looks down, trying harder to push pass the haze of murky memory and what was said. Trying to recall everything. "Drank da fire water. Taste bad, buh made warm. Nice feelin, but kin said musta drink slowa. Sat on me, 'eld bottle away."
He continued to try, closing his eyes tight as he forces himself to remember, to recall. To just put the pieces together.
"Smell da kin... close, smell of vodka, smell of breedin'. Head turnin'. Aye did use attraction on 'er."
[Roman Turner] His nod was curt, a simple single motion.
"It don't matter to me if ya were born with fur and four legs, or as bare as a baby bird with two legs. What matters here is, we are not Wolf, we are not Man. We are Garou. We are the protectors. We walk a fine line between two worlds. I will not take a lack of knowledge and a smell of breeding as excuses. The two of you are at fault here. Learn from this and don't repeat it."
He looked back and forth between them and continued.
"This next part I don't have full knowledge of either. I got a call from Milo telling me Starla was hurt. When I get hold of her she's less than pleasant and tells me that once more it involved Fire Claws. Now Starla, give us that entire story."
[Sorrow] Roman appears ready to move on. Kora gives him a single look; flat and challenging. She is clearly not ready to move on. "I'm not finished," she interrupts, before he invites Starla to tell the next story.
"Starla," Kora cuts a glance back to the kinswoman, her own voice is low, still and quiet. " - you said, the next thing you knew you were crawling in his lap. Did you sit on him to take the bottle away? Or were you drawn in?"
"Fire Claws, you are a Forseti. Tell me what you did wrong that night."
[Starla] Starla takes in another deep breath, her eyebrows furrow inward, nearly touching at its corners. She gathers her hands in her lap, fingers intertwining to wring them together. She scrunches up her nose, dropping her gaze down to watch her hands, tongue running out across her bottom lip.
She flinches under Sorrow's question, lifting her head up to look at her. "Sat on him to git the bottle away and then jus' sort got drawn in from there."
[Roman Turner] His brows worse then furrowed with Starla's admission.
[Roman Turner] ((Ut oh, brain going. Worse=Rose. Don't ask how it came out that way.))
[Fire Claws] His discomfort with the English language was starting to show now as he was struggling to find the correct words to answer his Jarl. He seems to resign himself for the moment and connects to his pack mates if allowed. His words clearer, his accent not coming across within the mind.
~Totemlink~
Weakness. I allowed myself to lose control. I showed weakness over what I wanted at the moment for what was proper. Jarl.
[Sorrow] "That detail," the Skald says, low and direct to Starla, " - is an important one, Starla."
Kora allows Fire Claws to make the mind to mind connection. There is a faint - thinning of her attention in that moment, a drawing-back. She half-closes her eyes, listening to his response, then translates it aloud for Starla a moment later.
"Fire Claws says his failure was weakness. In his weakness, he lost control and allowed his momentary desire to overwhelm his knowledge of what was right and proper, Starla."
Kora glances back to the lupus, then. "Have you been drunk before, Fire Claws?" A brief, foreshortened sort of pause. He can answer through their spiritual connection, but Kora questions him aloud for the benefit of the kinswoman. "Do you intend to drink again?"
[Starla] If the wolf-born intends to drink again, it won't be in the presence of the kin. She tilts her head to the side, watching the interaction between Kora and Fire Claws. She is quiet, no verbal response given to Kora's statement, just a raising of a dark eyebrow.
[Roman Turner] He spoke in response to Starla's brow rising.
"It was not necessary for ya go climb on top of him to control his drinking Starla. You are not responsible for Fire Claws' drinking if he wants. But by climbing on him ya put both of you in a situation. You too are at fault."
[Fire Claws] He watches how Sorrow reacts to his words, how she repeats what he says and his eyes are given to look at the ever-increasing stomach that has formed over their Jarl. His eyes no meeting with the coggie at one moment or another during the situation. Just speaking when addressed from those of rank.
"No" and "No" are the only response given, or needed for that matter. Not like a child answering his mother out of habit, but one who understands that he does not like what happened because of what he did.
[Starla] Being at fault, she understood, Starla was shouldering that guilt along with the one that had come from last Monday. If it hadn't been for Milo, they wouldn't be here having this conversation. Starla would have just buried it and never mentioned it to anyone, hoping that Fire Claws would have forgotten or not broached the subject.
She has no verbal response to Roman's words, her head bowing again to drop her eyes to her hands.
[Sorrow] "Roman's right," Kora echoes, glancing at Starla. "I'm sorry that he tempted you, and glad that you were able to resist him. I will not blame you for his actions; in the end, he is the Garou and bears the burden himself. But, Starla, you were unwise. To remain in the room with a Garou who was drunk; with a lupus Garou who had never before been drunk. Foolish to sit on his lap when his inhibitions are lowered. You know that he is wolf-born, that he is Garou. If you wanted to stop him from getting drunk, you should have found one of his packmates," a tight glance.
--
Then she looks back to Fire Claws, speaking aloud for Starla, reinforcing it across their spiritual bond. "Fire Claws, we do not take our human-born kin as mates through compulsion. They are not wolves, they are not ruled by instinct. The matter of respect for those beneath us is written into the litany, but there's a practical side to it as well. If you violate the trust of your kin, they will desert you one by one.
"And we cannot live without kin, not in these cities. We will never win the war against the Wyrm without them.
"You also violated another's territory. Starla is kin to the Children of Gaia. She is Fate's kin, his territory, and by tempting her to mate with you, broke the law in spirit if not in fact.
"This is your punishment from me: you will not drink spirits of any sort for one moon. Thereafter, if you wish to drink you must do so in the presence of your packmates for another moon. I will not deny a warrior of Fenris mead, but you must show that you are strong enough to stand up to its effects.
"Second, you will not be permitted to court or mate any kin for the space of the same moon."
[Sorrow] "Now," a lifting glance, back to Roman, her voice taut, her countenance stark, strained. "What is the next matter?"
[Roman Turner] "Now, the other issue. Milo contacted me in concern over Starla, she was injured. She implied it was Fire Claws and due to some thing she said to him."
He looked at Starla as he spoke.
"Your side first Starla. The entire story, including what ya said."
[Starla] This is where she grows irritated, a little scowl playing across her features at the mention of Milo. She keeps her voice low, fingers clenched together as Starla works the tension out that forms in the line of her jaw, teeth grinding. She clears her throat a little, "Fire Claws and I went to Chinatown for food, since he ain't ever had Chinese, I didn't think it would go bad. I wasn't paying attention to the moon. He was grouchy and hungry, we finally got to this small park and I set the food down. He was terse wit' his words, jus' wanted to eat. I set the food down in front of him, and asked him to sit. He shot back wit' some comment that he wasn't a dog..."
She wets her tongue with her lips, rubs her hands together, "To which I asked if I needed to start bringing a leash and collar, meaning for it to be a joke, and he went and flipped out on me. Next thing I knew, Fire Claws was on me, he grabbed me, picked me up and threw me down in the grass yelling at me to leave. I landed funny on my shoulder and injured it. He looked like he was about to frenzy, but managed to control himself."
Starla shakes her head, lowering her gaze, "I was scared, scared out of my fucking mind... I couldn't move even if I wanted to leave I was stiff, frozen in place. Fire Claws yelled at me to leave again or he'd kill me. Next thing he had his hands around my throat and was choking me..." she makes the impression of cupping her hands over her throat. "He didn't do it, something happened wit' him and he walked away... some woman came over to help me after he left..."
She shakes her head again, "This I know was my fault. I goaded him when I shouldn't have, was too stupid to not pay attention to what time of the moon it was. I ain't blaming him for what he done, that's all mine. I would've never told anybody about this if it weren't for Milo."
[Sorrow] Kora listens silently, dark eyes steady on the kinswoman as she speaks. When Starla is finished, she glances over at Fire Claws. "Now it's your turn, Fire Claws. Beginning to end."
[Fire Claws] Again the murk of memory seems to haze over what Fire Claws must search out to remember. Even though this even was much more recent and would most likely be recalled easier to many, it is just another part of the miasma of events that floats within the lupus mind. Much more difficult this is as scent is not so apparent to him, smells not like the other. He closes his eyes, hard and tight as he tries to recover the events that led to him bruising the kin. His eyes still closed he speaks.
"Dis 'appen unda Luna' half- face. Ma moon. Tension strong. Went ta eat wit Starla, sum place with strange smellin' food." He could not recall the exact name of the food anymore, it was all the same, this monkey food cooked and prepared with strange combinations of herbs and sauces and other foods. "Sat away from two-legs. Wanted food... she called mah dog. Wolf is no dog... not weak dog. Moon strong. Ever'tin red. Held back urge to kill. Barked. Warned 'er ta leave. Pushed 'er away. Hard. Starla fell... did not leave. Want'ed ta kill. 'eld back. Warn kin again, grabbed her neck to... in...inti..in... errr scare 'er ta go. Still dere. Sought Jarl' 'elp over link. Sorrow~Rhya council mah ta walk away... did so. Barely."
Unlike the first time however, this event seems to have shaken Fire-claws a little more. AS he spoke his fists tightened as he recalled the night, nearly drawing blood from his own palm each time he said the word 'warning.' His teeth grated down on themselves, nearly snarling even though his eyes did not open the whole time.
[Starla] Starla's head snaps up to pin her gaze on Fire Claws, she immediately unfurls her legs to drop her feet onto the ground, hands dropping to curl around the edges of the pew's bench, leaning forward to push off of it. She stands slowly, feet braced for a second, and then Starla is moving away from them.
She gives her back to the group, her arms drawn tightly to fold over her chest, a hand lifted to cover her mouth. She paces to put distance between herself and the Garou; a line of tension burns in the muscles of her back, making her shoulders hunch forward with stiffness and her spine rigid.
[Roman Turner] Starla moved and Roman spoke softly.
"Ya have something to add to that? I can seen the tension in your body. Or is it something else?"
[Sorrow] Roman inquires whether Starla has something to add; Kora listens, quietly to Fire Claws, then turns settles her dark eyes in the kinswoman. Quietly echoing Roman's question, wordlessly.
[Starla] Starla stops; she shakes her head at Roman's question, "Naw," she says back to him, "Ain't got nothing to add."
[Roman Turner] "Ok."
His gaze went to Sorrow, letting her have first words.
[Sorrow] "Starla, I would like to know why you took Fire Claws to eat Chinese food after your experience with him when he was drinking. Second, you said you would never have brought this forward but for Milo. Why is that?"
--
Then, the heavily pregnant Skald - still standing, though by now she has pulled her hands from the pockets of her sweatshirt and slipped them into the front pockets of her jeans. The straight line of her long arms frames the swell of her beach-ball stomach, elbows locked as the too-long, too-wide sleeves slide down her forearms.
"That's twice you've lost control, Fire Claws. How would you judge yourself?"
[Starla] She turns around to look at Kora, pulling her hand from her mouth, "This ain't the first time or the second time, or even the third time me and Fire Claws butt heads. He's snarled at me before on different occasions, the last time was the first time he got too close to losing control."
Starla shrugs, "Roman said not to coddle the Fenrir, I was jus' dumb enough to think maybe I could halp him to understand what humans were like, to halp him socialize better. I thought I had a better understanding of animals than I do people, but maybe him being a Garou tends to misconstrue my way of thinking. Hard to remember the wolf within when ya used to seeing the outer shell of a man. I can't understand why Fire Claws is here in the city if he hates humans so much, if'n he's gonna continue to carry such hate and anger, then why does he stay in the habit of the very thing that destroyed his life before coming here."
[Starla] (appends!!) "I would've jus' buried it and looked the other way."
[Starla] (habit = habitat)
[Sorrow] "It is not my place to judge you, Starla, as you are not my kin. But you would have done no one any favors by burying the incident and pretending it did not happen. Roman has the responsibility and the right to know what happens to you; and Fire Claws is my packmate and my tribe; a Forseti. I have the same responsibility for him. By ignoring the incident, burying it, you allow such weakness to fester.
"That is not the way of the Fenrir, nor is it what our totem expects of us. I know you are a kin. Perhaps you meant it as a kindness. It was no such thing."
[Roman Turner] He wasn't so thrilled with the animal understanding comment, but for the moment let that rest.
"So, trouble between the two of you has been more than the two times we are aware of?"
He sighed, continuing.
"You are not to be alone with Fire Claws. The two of you need to learn from this. I am not forbidding sharing time together, but with another present, preferably a Garou."
[Fire Claws] He does not look up when Starla stands to walk off, he does not need to know what the kin is doing. He looks at Sorrow and ponders what she asks of him. His words now triggered across the link, even as Starla is speaking. His link connects them and he answers his Jarl. There were two possible choices for such actions. Some more demading them others.
~Totemlink~
I have heard of two ways to punish someone. I have heard of those forced into a spiritual quest... to find the land of Unicorn's children and seek the skills of spirits of tranquility and calm for those that are beyond control. Some do not return from such a quest.... there is another punish I have seen.
He pauses as the thought crosses his mind, a punishment he has seen done at his home sept to embarrass another. But it was still a punishment done for the same reason.
~TL~
...I have seen a rite... known to rip the wolf from a true born. Make them without wolf. While without wolf, they are tested... omega to another. If they can learn to control themselves they are given the wolf back. If not they must endure the punishment until they have learned... or die gloriously and without honor.
[Starla] "Ya're right, I'm not a Get of Fenris, I never will be, nor will I ever hold up to their ideas or opinions as I will never understand them or what'cha determine is a weakness."
Starla looks to Roman, narrowing on him for a fraction of a second, she shakes her head at him, "This'll be the last time I will step into Fire Claws' presence, wit' or wit'out Garou. It's better I avoid him all together."
[Sorrow] There's the diminution of Kora's attention, again - that thinning glance as he delivers his recommendations very their shared spiritual connection. Once, her pale brows lift in twin arches over her dark, steady eyes. "When you lost control, Fire Claws, did you shift?"
[Roman Turner] "Never say never Starla. Fate has a way of making fools out of pledges like that."
He stepped towards her his words low.
"With that thought in mind, hear me now. If ya want Simon, if he wants ya, then he can man up and come show he values ya as much as your Tribe does, as much as I do. Until that time, you are not to see him."
[Fire Claws] His answer is quick. Simple
"No."
[Starla] "Bullshit."
She levels her gaze on Roman now, narrowing her eyes as she turns around, arms dropping from her chest to set her hands on her hips, "We're jus' sleeping together - we ain't involved in no relationship. I fuck him the same way I fucked Hunter. The same way I'll fuck any other man: Garou, kin or human. Ya're jus' pissed off because I am sleeping wit' him."
[Roman Turner] "This is my call Starla. Don't demean yourself this way. You can talk to him on the phone, tell him if he is interested, if he wants to challenge for ya, then do so. But the gravy train has stopped. Ya know our issue with him. Have some honor in this matter. Unless ya want to pay a visit back home?"
[Sorrow] "In this, I disagree with you, Fire Claws. Though you lost control, you had the presence of mind to stave off frenzy. As close as you came, you did not give in to the red wave. You will not lose your wolf.
"But you need to learn what it means to be kinfolk; to be two-legged; to live in the city. To that end, you will live for the next half-moon in your homid form. You will not shift. You will eat as a man, live as a man, and face threats as a man. As a kin.
"You will learn how vulnerable our kin are in the face of rage and tooth and claw, because you will live it. And at the end of the fortnight, you will travel to the Battleground realm, and you will find the battle you yourself created there - Fire Claws against Starla - and you will stand in her place; feel both her vulnerability and the paralyzing immediacy of her fear.
"In doing so, you yourself will learn to be strong. You will have to learn the control you require; not from unicorn's children, but from Fenris' own."
[Roman Turner] ((Ok,I have to be up in 5 hrs for work. If you want to continue Starla, let's schedule for it.))
[Starla] She snorts loudly, keeping a narrowed gaze on Roman, "Goodnight, Roman." The kin was done, she steps away from them, moves around the Garou to leave the Church.
[Fire Claws] He looks at Sorrow for a moment, wanting to say something. But holds his tongue on the matter. It was a compromise between the embarrassment that he has seen visited upon one at his home sept and what could have been. He did not like the idea of not having his fur to warm him, nor the claws and fangs to defend or kill as needed. It would not be an easy turn of Luna.
"Yeah Sorrow~ryha."
However it seemed fair. Would he feel fear at such an event? It is unlikely. He still had his rage, his ability to fight. He was not merely claw and teeth.
[Roman Turner] He called after her, following her out. "I"ll take that as ya want me to call home and make arrangements."
And they were gone.
[Roman Turner] ((Thanks guys, I have to sleep))
[Sorrow] There's a lacuna; a pause. The disagreement between Roman and Starla pulls them away from the center of the church, near the transept where the small group had gathered. Kora is still standing, though by now her back has begun to ache. The subtle throbbing that would never have settled into her muscles when she herself was able to shift forms; to allow her body to renew itself.
She glances up once, as Starla flounces out of the church, angry at her cousin's declaration about the limits of her autonomy. Then drops her gaze back to Fire Claws, finds the feral Garou's gaze on her, reads something of his desire to speak in the blunt expression on his feral features. Kora lifts her chin in a subtle upward sweep that settles into a faintly angled cant - the wolf inside her human skin evident in just that moment.
The corners of her generous mouth twist upward, not quiet a smile. Her teeth remind hidden behind her lips. Fire Claws will have to rely on the cues of his eyes as much as his nose in the coming nights. This is just the beginning.
"You look like you have something to say, Fire Claws." - she says, low-voiced, quiet. "What is it?"
[Fire Claws] He paused a moment more, wondering. His eyes turn back on his Jarl. Curious of what was said.
"Aye shal bare da burdin of dis punishment. Bu' mahbe Starla is rite... aye ave no love for da two-legged. Aye handl' wat aye ave too. But aye will not go out mah way to 'elp dem. Save dem. Kill wyrm yeah. But two-legs... dey brough dis on demselves. Nah kin no. But da rest. Aye cam ta kill wyrm... not ta be two-leg kind. Spent mah youth hatin' monkey, wary of two-leg 'fore change... afta change not much different."
[Sorrow] "Have you been up in the belltower?" Kora asks Fire Claws, a slicing, dark-eyed look follows as she lifts her chin toward the doors in the south western corner of the church. Linus barred the rest of the pack from the belltowers, preferring to tend to the ravens that were Hrafn's counterparts on this side himself.
He's gone now.
Kora misses him; an ache behind her breastbone.
His presence little more than peripheral, at the edges of the pack's consciousness these nights.
She pauses long enough for Fire Claws to say: yea or nay, then tells him to "C'mon," and starts off toward the belltower, that awkward human waddle defining her gait, her center of gravity offkilter, her weight too far forward; awkward for it, ungainly as any human woman in late pregnancy would be.
The stairs are worn from years of use, and there's a musty scent in the tower. Bird shit and feathers scattered about here and there. When they get close to the top, a handful of brooding birds take flight - an impression of black wings against the night sky. But just as she knew, there is a view here of the territory; squat and industrial, the city spread out beyond, the weaver's towers gleaming in the south, the office buildings, brilliant, reflective, glowering where they erupt against the horizon, the El tracks and elevated highways looped around the interior like veins and arteries, carrying the lightwaves of late night commuters into or away from nameless destinations. There is the lake to the east, flat and dark, water and sky merging together almost seamlessly at the horizon; and to the west, the city continues unbounded in its outward sprawl.
She's quiet for long minutes, encouraging him to look, to take in the view. At some point, she says, "Big fucking place, isn't it?" A supple twist of her mouth, lost in the shadows.
[Fire Claws] When Kora asks about the belltower it was obvious that he was never up there. Raven's own were tended there, kept by Bone~Writer for the time to ensure that Hrafan's children were tended in the physical as well as the spiritual. He did not venture onto the turf that the spirit talkers took as their own, not lightly. The spiritual ones of the true born tended to bend in strange manners that defied even the most abnormal of two-leg.
He furrowed his brow as she ascends, beckoning him to follow.
It was odd to watch a Jarl of the Get seem to waddle like a penguin in any manner. Even if they held the future of the tribe within their womb it was still something to see. A strange feeling to follow the demands of a leader who could not fight. But then again alpha wolves were central to a pack when they were with cub. Even if the territory was threatened bu another pack.
He does not say a word when offered to look out on the city from such a height. The city spread out further and further than one could image. Much farther than one could see from this level in the air. It was filled with buildings, cement and glass, steel and concrete, blacktop and iron. Where she saw a large city building to life he saw only one thing.
"Da scab seem neva endin'"
[Sorrow] "Pretty much," she says, low-voiced, looking out over the expanse as her attention swings back to the lupus. "And it's teeming with humans, yeah? Every little point of light is another one. Sometimes the Wyrm hides inside them. Sometimes it preys on them. Sometimes it strikes through them, and sometimes - " a supple curve of her mouth, mostly hidden in the shadows.
The reflection of the lights downtown casts a crawling band of light across her cheeks, highlighting the smooth line of her cheekbones, the plain of her temples sweeping up to a high, clear forehead. A half dozen refracted lights gleam across the surface of her eyes when she looks back to him. " - rarely, they fight back against it. If they, collectively, are the authors of anything, I think it's the Weaver's dominance, not the Wyrm's, yeah? But I think that they are the instruments rather than the authors, even then.
"If you were, say, hunting cougars in a forest full of deer and elk, though. Would you ignore the elk and deer? Or would you want to know their ways? How the herds move; how they startle. The noise the bucks make when they sense danger near. The way they stampede when the cougar strikes. All that?"
[Fire Claws] (Are you really that thick not to get the analogy?)
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 1, 1 (Botch x 2 at target 6)
[Fire Claws] He looks at her for a second with utter confusion over his face. He couldn't seem to match the words with the meaning by any possible way. He could only think of the situation as it was laid out.
"Wh'ja 'untin cougars?"
[Sorrow] "It's an analogy," she returns, with a quiet huff of an exhalation and a twist of her mouth. "One thing stands for another. In this case: cougars are the Wyrm, the forest is the city, and the deer and elk are humans. You see? If you want to hunt the Wyrm in this habitat - if you want to successfully hunt the wyrm, systematically.
"To track down the big threats to the Caern and the territory on this side and the other - you have to know how the animals in the forest move. How they react. How they look when they are sick, how they look when well. When they will stampede; when they will charge; when they will die."
[Fire Claws] He looked at his Jarl for a moment and then looked out on the city once more. His mind still running with the idea of hunting. His mind trying to put together what was being said. He didn't understand it, how could he.
"In da woods... ya 'unt da elk and da deer. Whe' ya com across dat cougars... yeah deal wit dem. But ya still hunt da elk and deer."
[Sorrow] "I didn't say it was a perfect analogy. Yeah?" She says, shaking her head. "Pretend the cougars are tainted; you aren't hunting for meat and food; you're hunting them as if you would wyrm. Do you understand now?"
[Fire Claws] The wolf born seem intend on just watching the city for the moment, watching the cars move down the streets and avenues that dictate each pathway through the maze of the scab, he watches as lights go out here and there as the city is becoming more and more sleepy. He watches and ponders what he would do if he were hunting wyrm. These humans were instruments of the wyrm.
"Aye see"
He watched the city as the two-legs slept and he pondered what new horrors the wyrm would use them for. What torments Gaia would suffer due to these instruments.
"Ya watch the prey to betta undastand da otha predators."
[Sorrow] "Exactly," Kora returns, a quiet, sweeping look back out to the city. A supple note of approval in her eyes and voice. "You have to take the time to understand them if you want to hunt effectively among them.
"If you just want to through yourself forward into glory," a twist of her shoulders, narrow for her tall frame, swallowed by the fabric of her sweatshirt. " - well, there are a half-hundred deadly battles within reach, yeah? But you want more than that, I think. You don't just want to kill Wyrm, you want to do so effectively. It's what Hermodr expects of us, too.
"You can't kill all of them; and underneath, some of them are more on our side than the Unmaker's. Not enough, to be sure. But some." Then she cuts a glance away from the horizon, dark eyes settling on Fire Claws. "I'm not suggesting that you go out of your way to protect them, mind you. On some level, it they need protection - if they've seen some manifestation of the Wyrm, or a Garou in warform, they are already compromised. Broken. Bleeding, and you have to root them out for their own good, or kill them to protect the veil."
Pitiless in this, the Skald.
"But your hate is wasted on them; this is their habitat, and to hunt here, you have to know how they move."
"First, thanks y'all for showing up. Second, I don't reckon this is going to be entirely pleasant, but it's got to be done."
He'd settled on the back of one of the pews, booted feet resting in the seat. A bottle of water was held dangling between his open knees.
[Starla] She was quiet during the walk to the Church, bottom lip tucked inward as she chews on it absently. A hand lifted to catch and control the stray tendrils of black hair that curls along the line of her jaw. She keeps her head down, eyes on ahead of her on the ground. In the Church, Starla finds a pew to sit down in, drawing her legs up to tuck and fold her feet under her thighs, cross-legged.
She looks up at the others when Roman speaks.
[Fire Claws] There were times that he had missed the Sept he was born at. The discomfort of what happened when drama occurred was one such event. He had already forgotten what had transpired between him and Starla several nights ago. What had been done seem immaterial to wolf born already. A war needed to be fought and he did not waste his time with anything that did not involve ensuring the garou their glory.
However pack issues did arise and he would not negate such an issue. When asked, he would come to the gathering to discuss whatever it was that needed to be discussed. The wolf holding his skin as he paced around the large stone den when the no moon speaks, he finally plants his hind on the cold ground, his tail slowly wiping away at the ground behind him. Ear perked as he listens.
[Sorrow] Fire Claws and Sorrow both heard the request from Roman; Kora reinforced it - firmly, quietly. Beyond the reinforcement, her mind closed, solid as the heavy wooden doors that protect the sanctuary of the long-abandoned church. Roman's sitting on the back of a wooden pew; Kora's standing a few feet away, quiet for now. Heavily pregnant - they must imagine it will be any time now - with her usual dark gray sweatshirt and jeans on to chase away the chill in the sanctuary. This business is not conducted in amongst the comfort of the old ratty couches scattered under the choir loft, but closer to the transept, the altar. There's a certain ruined majesty up here; the ribs of the ceiling evident in the fast-failing light, the clouds beyond have that late evening glow from the dying sun. Half the stained glass windows are enshadowed, dark. The rest are caught between gray and brilliant. The light gleams on the surface, but is too murky to make more than incidental, watery impressions on the marble floor.
There is the scent of storms on the horizon, somewhere close. The Fenrir can feel winter's touch in the air; snow to the north, the gray ache as it reasserts itself against the coming spring.
The Skald's dark eyes flicker between Starla and Fire Claws, attention lingering first on one, then the other before it returns to Roman. Otherwise, her body language is as closed as her mindvoice. "What's this about?"
[Roman Turner] "I've got three things I want to bring out here. The first two involve Starla and Fire Claws. I am first going to say what I have been told, nothing more. Then once this can of worms has been dumped out on the table, we can hash through the mess."
His gray-blue gaze, so much like old faded denim, went from Starla to Fire Claws before he spoke again with a pointed look at Fire Claws.
"I need human ears and words for this. Oblige me by shifting to two legs, please."
Then his gaze included Sorrow.
"Starla tells me first one night Fire Claws came in covered in blood. She decided he needed help that he apparently did not need. He then proceeded to get drunk and she says he used a power as she put it, to make her want him sexually. She says she resisted because he fell asleep. That the next day they spoke of it and he said it is not so. I need both sides of that in the open. That's the first item."
[Starla]
[Sorrow] Kora's standing with her legs shoulder-width apart, hands in the pockets of her sweatshirt, pulling the waistband down below the apex of her abdomen, stretching out the warm cotton. Her hair is pale, gleaming with shifting colors reflecting from the flickering of the braziers on the marble columns, smooth against her scalp, pulled back into a heavy twist at the nape of her neck, some complex internal knot, imprecise, disordered. She cuts a glance from Roman to Starla when he is finished; her ears are bare, and the movement sends the old iron charm dangling from the inner cartilage of her right ear swinging with the movement.
Otherwise, she is still. Dark eyed and steady. "I'd like to hear what happened from you, Starla," says Kora, low-voiced. "In your own words. Then I will have Fire Claws' response."
[Fire Claws] He nodded his head when Roman asked him to take on the monkey skin and he does so to oblige the Fostern coggie. It was a slow transformation through the forms, his fur giving way as he shifts and changes. His body enlarging at first to the massive war form, muscles and sinew given way and explode to part that no creature should be able to have. And soon after the apex of his form, shift and shrink down, muscle no longer massive but contained. Skin exposed to the elements, only hidden by now by the dedicated clothes of faded and worn black jeans, ripped and tattered shirt and boots that have seen better days.
He stands there before the rest of his pack mates, leaning again a pew now as he listens to what has be said. He does not attempt to interrupt Fate~rhya as he listens. Trying to recall an event that seem years ago to the lupus born. His face contorted now as he struggles to recall the event.
[Starla] Starla draws in a deep breath, holding it in her lungs while Roman spoke; it's released slowly, rushing out of her mouth and nose in a small hiss of air. She flicks her eyes to the wolf-born, arching an eyebrow at him, she stares at him hard for several seconds, and then pulls her eyes to Roman - listening.
"Fire Claws wanted to know what it felt like to git drunk. It came out of conversation he had wit' Amy and Rain at the Broho one night, when they's drinking. I found Fire Claws injured and fetched the first aid kit wit' the intentions of cleaning up his wounds, there was a bottle of vodka sitting the table in front of him."
She flicks her gaze up, looking first to Kora and then to Roman, and finally Fire Claws, "He ain't likely gonna remember this; though, he started in on the bottle, I tried to control how much liquor he consumed. I don't what provoked it after that, maybe it was my breeding, me being too close, or the end of mating season for wolves. Next thing I know I was crawling in his lap after meeting his gaze, he did something to try and git me to mate wit' him. I come to my senses and managed to resist before he past out. I confronted him the next day, and he says I lied."
[Roman Turner] Watching Starla as she spoke, his gaze then shifted to Fire Claws with a lifted brow.
"I can tell ya, this first item troubled me and I would of let it lay for a quiet word alone, if not for other things taking place. Now, it's your turn Fire Claws. What do you recall?"
[Sorrow] Kora listens intently, dark eyes fixed on Starla. Her brow is furrowed as she contemplates the kinswoman, her attention keen and direct. When Starla finishes her story, the Skald cuts a moving glance back toward her feral packmate, the Forseti. Briefly, she searches his blunt human features. Then echoes Roman. "Everything you remember of it, beginning to end."
[Sorrow] Per + Empathy [Truthiness + FEELINGS)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 7, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
to Starla
[Sorrow] HOW DOES THAT MAKE YOU FEEL.
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 7, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1
to Starla
[Fire Claws] He scrunches his nose at the memory of it. It was hard to recall what had happened, his mind a fuzzy maze of thoughts that didn't seem to flow in chronological order like it does for humans. Thoughts come and go as she begins to speak, his smell of vodka coming to his mind. The sensation revisited when he recalls what he remembers. He shakes out his head. His words come across a mutilated as he speaks.
"Aye ramemba dat night... somewat. Afta' 'unting aye came to den. Sum banes on pack edge. Kill'd em. Cam back wit sum cuts. Starla saw me... sad needed help. Aye needed no help, wounds heal gud. Fine. But smellvodka.. recall da words of kin and..." he tried to think about what the word Rain used when she called it something else, but it seemed lost to the lupus at the moment. "... monkey fire water. Curious."
He looks down, trying harder to push pass the haze of murky memory and what was said. Trying to recall everything. "Drank da fire water. Taste bad, buh made warm. Nice feelin, but kin said musta drink slowa. Sat on me, 'eld bottle away."
He continued to try, closing his eyes tight as he forces himself to remember, to recall. To just put the pieces together.
"Smell da kin... close, smell of vodka, smell of breedin'. Head turnin'. Aye did use attraction on 'er."
[Roman Turner] His nod was curt, a simple single motion.
"It don't matter to me if ya were born with fur and four legs, or as bare as a baby bird with two legs. What matters here is, we are not Wolf, we are not Man. We are Garou. We are the protectors. We walk a fine line between two worlds. I will not take a lack of knowledge and a smell of breeding as excuses. The two of you are at fault here. Learn from this and don't repeat it."
He looked back and forth between them and continued.
"This next part I don't have full knowledge of either. I got a call from Milo telling me Starla was hurt. When I get hold of her she's less than pleasant and tells me that once more it involved Fire Claws. Now Starla, give us that entire story."
[Sorrow] Roman appears ready to move on. Kora gives him a single look; flat and challenging. She is clearly not ready to move on. "I'm not finished," she interrupts, before he invites Starla to tell the next story.
"Starla," Kora cuts a glance back to the kinswoman, her own voice is low, still and quiet. " - you said, the next thing you knew you were crawling in his lap. Did you sit on him to take the bottle away? Or were you drawn in?"
"Fire Claws, you are a Forseti. Tell me what you did wrong that night."
[Starla] Starla takes in another deep breath, her eyebrows furrow inward, nearly touching at its corners. She gathers her hands in her lap, fingers intertwining to wring them together. She scrunches up her nose, dropping her gaze down to watch her hands, tongue running out across her bottom lip.
She flinches under Sorrow's question, lifting her head up to look at her. "Sat on him to git the bottle away and then jus' sort got drawn in from there."
[Roman Turner] His brows worse then furrowed with Starla's admission.
[Roman Turner] ((Ut oh, brain going. Worse=Rose. Don't ask how it came out that way.))
[Fire Claws] His discomfort with the English language was starting to show now as he was struggling to find the correct words to answer his Jarl. He seems to resign himself for the moment and connects to his pack mates if allowed. His words clearer, his accent not coming across within the mind.
~Totemlink~
Weakness. I allowed myself to lose control. I showed weakness over what I wanted at the moment for what was proper. Jarl.
[Sorrow] "That detail," the Skald says, low and direct to Starla, " - is an important one, Starla."
Kora allows Fire Claws to make the mind to mind connection. There is a faint - thinning of her attention in that moment, a drawing-back. She half-closes her eyes, listening to his response, then translates it aloud for Starla a moment later.
"Fire Claws says his failure was weakness. In his weakness, he lost control and allowed his momentary desire to overwhelm his knowledge of what was right and proper, Starla."
Kora glances back to the lupus, then. "Have you been drunk before, Fire Claws?" A brief, foreshortened sort of pause. He can answer through their spiritual connection, but Kora questions him aloud for the benefit of the kinswoman. "Do you intend to drink again?"
[Starla] If the wolf-born intends to drink again, it won't be in the presence of the kin. She tilts her head to the side, watching the interaction between Kora and Fire Claws. She is quiet, no verbal response given to Kora's statement, just a raising of a dark eyebrow.
[Roman Turner] He spoke in response to Starla's brow rising.
"It was not necessary for ya go climb on top of him to control his drinking Starla. You are not responsible for Fire Claws' drinking if he wants. But by climbing on him ya put both of you in a situation. You too are at fault."
[Fire Claws] He watches how Sorrow reacts to his words, how she repeats what he says and his eyes are given to look at the ever-increasing stomach that has formed over their Jarl. His eyes no meeting with the coggie at one moment or another during the situation. Just speaking when addressed from those of rank.
"No" and "No" are the only response given, or needed for that matter. Not like a child answering his mother out of habit, but one who understands that he does not like what happened because of what he did.
[Starla] Being at fault, she understood, Starla was shouldering that guilt along with the one that had come from last Monday. If it hadn't been for Milo, they wouldn't be here having this conversation. Starla would have just buried it and never mentioned it to anyone, hoping that Fire Claws would have forgotten or not broached the subject.
She has no verbal response to Roman's words, her head bowing again to drop her eyes to her hands.
[Sorrow] "Roman's right," Kora echoes, glancing at Starla. "I'm sorry that he tempted you, and glad that you were able to resist him. I will not blame you for his actions; in the end, he is the Garou and bears the burden himself. But, Starla, you were unwise. To remain in the room with a Garou who was drunk; with a lupus Garou who had never before been drunk. Foolish to sit on his lap when his inhibitions are lowered. You know that he is wolf-born, that he is Garou. If you wanted to stop him from getting drunk, you should have found one of his packmates," a tight glance.
--
Then she looks back to Fire Claws, speaking aloud for Starla, reinforcing it across their spiritual bond. "Fire Claws, we do not take our human-born kin as mates through compulsion. They are not wolves, they are not ruled by instinct. The matter of respect for those beneath us is written into the litany, but there's a practical side to it as well. If you violate the trust of your kin, they will desert you one by one.
"And we cannot live without kin, not in these cities. We will never win the war against the Wyrm without them.
"You also violated another's territory. Starla is kin to the Children of Gaia. She is Fate's kin, his territory, and by tempting her to mate with you, broke the law in spirit if not in fact.
"This is your punishment from me: you will not drink spirits of any sort for one moon. Thereafter, if you wish to drink you must do so in the presence of your packmates for another moon. I will not deny a warrior of Fenris mead, but you must show that you are strong enough to stand up to its effects.
"Second, you will not be permitted to court or mate any kin for the space of the same moon."
[Sorrow] "Now," a lifting glance, back to Roman, her voice taut, her countenance stark, strained. "What is the next matter?"
[Roman Turner] "Now, the other issue. Milo contacted me in concern over Starla, she was injured. She implied it was Fire Claws and due to some thing she said to him."
He looked at Starla as he spoke.
"Your side first Starla. The entire story, including what ya said."
[Starla] This is where she grows irritated, a little scowl playing across her features at the mention of Milo. She keeps her voice low, fingers clenched together as Starla works the tension out that forms in the line of her jaw, teeth grinding. She clears her throat a little, "Fire Claws and I went to Chinatown for food, since he ain't ever had Chinese, I didn't think it would go bad. I wasn't paying attention to the moon. He was grouchy and hungry, we finally got to this small park and I set the food down. He was terse wit' his words, jus' wanted to eat. I set the food down in front of him, and asked him to sit. He shot back wit' some comment that he wasn't a dog..."
She wets her tongue with her lips, rubs her hands together, "To which I asked if I needed to start bringing a leash and collar, meaning for it to be a joke, and he went and flipped out on me. Next thing I knew, Fire Claws was on me, he grabbed me, picked me up and threw me down in the grass yelling at me to leave. I landed funny on my shoulder and injured it. He looked like he was about to frenzy, but managed to control himself."
Starla shakes her head, lowering her gaze, "I was scared, scared out of my fucking mind... I couldn't move even if I wanted to leave I was stiff, frozen in place. Fire Claws yelled at me to leave again or he'd kill me. Next thing he had his hands around my throat and was choking me..." she makes the impression of cupping her hands over her throat. "He didn't do it, something happened wit' him and he walked away... some woman came over to help me after he left..."
She shakes her head again, "This I know was my fault. I goaded him when I shouldn't have, was too stupid to not pay attention to what time of the moon it was. I ain't blaming him for what he done, that's all mine. I would've never told anybody about this if it weren't for Milo."
[Sorrow] Kora listens silently, dark eyes steady on the kinswoman as she speaks. When Starla is finished, she glances over at Fire Claws. "Now it's your turn, Fire Claws. Beginning to end."
[Fire Claws] Again the murk of memory seems to haze over what Fire Claws must search out to remember. Even though this even was much more recent and would most likely be recalled easier to many, it is just another part of the miasma of events that floats within the lupus mind. Much more difficult this is as scent is not so apparent to him, smells not like the other. He closes his eyes, hard and tight as he tries to recover the events that led to him bruising the kin. His eyes still closed he speaks.
"Dis 'appen unda Luna' half- face. Ma moon. Tension strong. Went ta eat wit Starla, sum place with strange smellin' food." He could not recall the exact name of the food anymore, it was all the same, this monkey food cooked and prepared with strange combinations of herbs and sauces and other foods. "Sat away from two-legs. Wanted food... she called mah dog. Wolf is no dog... not weak dog. Moon strong. Ever'tin red. Held back urge to kill. Barked. Warned 'er ta leave. Pushed 'er away. Hard. Starla fell... did not leave. Want'ed ta kill. 'eld back. Warn kin again, grabbed her neck to... in...inti..in... errr scare 'er ta go. Still dere. Sought Jarl' 'elp over link. Sorrow~Rhya council mah ta walk away... did so. Barely."
Unlike the first time however, this event seems to have shaken Fire-claws a little more. AS he spoke his fists tightened as he recalled the night, nearly drawing blood from his own palm each time he said the word 'warning.' His teeth grated down on themselves, nearly snarling even though his eyes did not open the whole time.
[Starla] Starla's head snaps up to pin her gaze on Fire Claws, she immediately unfurls her legs to drop her feet onto the ground, hands dropping to curl around the edges of the pew's bench, leaning forward to push off of it. She stands slowly, feet braced for a second, and then Starla is moving away from them.
She gives her back to the group, her arms drawn tightly to fold over her chest, a hand lifted to cover her mouth. She paces to put distance between herself and the Garou; a line of tension burns in the muscles of her back, making her shoulders hunch forward with stiffness and her spine rigid.
[Roman Turner] Starla moved and Roman spoke softly.
"Ya have something to add to that? I can seen the tension in your body. Or is it something else?"
[Sorrow] Roman inquires whether Starla has something to add; Kora listens, quietly to Fire Claws, then turns settles her dark eyes in the kinswoman. Quietly echoing Roman's question, wordlessly.
[Starla] Starla stops; she shakes her head at Roman's question, "Naw," she says back to him, "Ain't got nothing to add."
[Roman Turner] "Ok."
His gaze went to Sorrow, letting her have first words.
[Sorrow] "Starla, I would like to know why you took Fire Claws to eat Chinese food after your experience with him when he was drinking. Second, you said you would never have brought this forward but for Milo. Why is that?"
--
Then, the heavily pregnant Skald - still standing, though by now she has pulled her hands from the pockets of her sweatshirt and slipped them into the front pockets of her jeans. The straight line of her long arms frames the swell of her beach-ball stomach, elbows locked as the too-long, too-wide sleeves slide down her forearms.
"That's twice you've lost control, Fire Claws. How would you judge yourself?"
[Starla] She turns around to look at Kora, pulling her hand from her mouth, "This ain't the first time or the second time, or even the third time me and Fire Claws butt heads. He's snarled at me before on different occasions, the last time was the first time he got too close to losing control."
Starla shrugs, "Roman said not to coddle the Fenrir, I was jus' dumb enough to think maybe I could halp him to understand what humans were like, to halp him socialize better. I thought I had a better understanding of animals than I do people, but maybe him being a Garou tends to misconstrue my way of thinking. Hard to remember the wolf within when ya used to seeing the outer shell of a man. I can't understand why Fire Claws is here in the city if he hates humans so much, if'n he's gonna continue to carry such hate and anger, then why does he stay in the habit of the very thing that destroyed his life before coming here."
[Starla] (appends!!) "I would've jus' buried it and looked the other way."
[Starla] (habit = habitat)
[Sorrow] "It is not my place to judge you, Starla, as you are not my kin. But you would have done no one any favors by burying the incident and pretending it did not happen. Roman has the responsibility and the right to know what happens to you; and Fire Claws is my packmate and my tribe; a Forseti. I have the same responsibility for him. By ignoring the incident, burying it, you allow such weakness to fester.
"That is not the way of the Fenrir, nor is it what our totem expects of us. I know you are a kin. Perhaps you meant it as a kindness. It was no such thing."
[Roman Turner] He wasn't so thrilled with the animal understanding comment, but for the moment let that rest.
"So, trouble between the two of you has been more than the two times we are aware of?"
He sighed, continuing.
"You are not to be alone with Fire Claws. The two of you need to learn from this. I am not forbidding sharing time together, but with another present, preferably a Garou."
[Fire Claws] He does not look up when Starla stands to walk off, he does not need to know what the kin is doing. He looks at Sorrow and ponders what she asks of him. His words now triggered across the link, even as Starla is speaking. His link connects them and he answers his Jarl. There were two possible choices for such actions. Some more demading them others.
~Totemlink~
I have heard of two ways to punish someone. I have heard of those forced into a spiritual quest... to find the land of Unicorn's children and seek the skills of spirits of tranquility and calm for those that are beyond control. Some do not return from such a quest.... there is another punish I have seen.
He pauses as the thought crosses his mind, a punishment he has seen done at his home sept to embarrass another. But it was still a punishment done for the same reason.
~TL~
...I have seen a rite... known to rip the wolf from a true born. Make them without wolf. While without wolf, they are tested... omega to another. If they can learn to control themselves they are given the wolf back. If not they must endure the punishment until they have learned... or die gloriously and without honor.
[Starla] "Ya're right, I'm not a Get of Fenris, I never will be, nor will I ever hold up to their ideas or opinions as I will never understand them or what'cha determine is a weakness."
Starla looks to Roman, narrowing on him for a fraction of a second, she shakes her head at him, "This'll be the last time I will step into Fire Claws' presence, wit' or wit'out Garou. It's better I avoid him all together."
[Sorrow] There's the diminution of Kora's attention, again - that thinning glance as he delivers his recommendations very their shared spiritual connection. Once, her pale brows lift in twin arches over her dark, steady eyes. "When you lost control, Fire Claws, did you shift?"
[Roman Turner] "Never say never Starla. Fate has a way of making fools out of pledges like that."
He stepped towards her his words low.
"With that thought in mind, hear me now. If ya want Simon, if he wants ya, then he can man up and come show he values ya as much as your Tribe does, as much as I do. Until that time, you are not to see him."
[Fire Claws] His answer is quick. Simple
"No."
[Starla] "Bullshit."
She levels her gaze on Roman now, narrowing her eyes as she turns around, arms dropping from her chest to set her hands on her hips, "We're jus' sleeping together - we ain't involved in no relationship. I fuck him the same way I fucked Hunter. The same way I'll fuck any other man: Garou, kin or human. Ya're jus' pissed off because I am sleeping wit' him."
[Roman Turner] "This is my call Starla. Don't demean yourself this way. You can talk to him on the phone, tell him if he is interested, if he wants to challenge for ya, then do so. But the gravy train has stopped. Ya know our issue with him. Have some honor in this matter. Unless ya want to pay a visit back home?"
[Sorrow] "In this, I disagree with you, Fire Claws. Though you lost control, you had the presence of mind to stave off frenzy. As close as you came, you did not give in to the red wave. You will not lose your wolf.
"But you need to learn what it means to be kinfolk; to be two-legged; to live in the city. To that end, you will live for the next half-moon in your homid form. You will not shift. You will eat as a man, live as a man, and face threats as a man. As a kin.
"You will learn how vulnerable our kin are in the face of rage and tooth and claw, because you will live it. And at the end of the fortnight, you will travel to the Battleground realm, and you will find the battle you yourself created there - Fire Claws against Starla - and you will stand in her place; feel both her vulnerability and the paralyzing immediacy of her fear.
"In doing so, you yourself will learn to be strong. You will have to learn the control you require; not from unicorn's children, but from Fenris' own."
[Roman Turner] ((Ok,I have to be up in 5 hrs for work. If you want to continue Starla, let's schedule for it.))
[Starla] She snorts loudly, keeping a narrowed gaze on Roman, "Goodnight, Roman." The kin was done, she steps away from them, moves around the Garou to leave the Church.
[Fire Claws] He looks at Sorrow for a moment, wanting to say something. But holds his tongue on the matter. It was a compromise between the embarrassment that he has seen visited upon one at his home sept and what could have been. He did not like the idea of not having his fur to warm him, nor the claws and fangs to defend or kill as needed. It would not be an easy turn of Luna.
"Yeah Sorrow~ryha."
However it seemed fair. Would he feel fear at such an event? It is unlikely. He still had his rage, his ability to fight. He was not merely claw and teeth.
[Roman Turner] He called after her, following her out. "I"ll take that as ya want me to call home and make arrangements."
And they were gone.
[Roman Turner] ((Thanks guys, I have to sleep))
[Sorrow] There's a lacuna; a pause. The disagreement between Roman and Starla pulls them away from the center of the church, near the transept where the small group had gathered. Kora is still standing, though by now her back has begun to ache. The subtle throbbing that would never have settled into her muscles when she herself was able to shift forms; to allow her body to renew itself.
She glances up once, as Starla flounces out of the church, angry at her cousin's declaration about the limits of her autonomy. Then drops her gaze back to Fire Claws, finds the feral Garou's gaze on her, reads something of his desire to speak in the blunt expression on his feral features. Kora lifts her chin in a subtle upward sweep that settles into a faintly angled cant - the wolf inside her human skin evident in just that moment.
The corners of her generous mouth twist upward, not quiet a smile. Her teeth remind hidden behind her lips. Fire Claws will have to rely on the cues of his eyes as much as his nose in the coming nights. This is just the beginning.
"You look like you have something to say, Fire Claws." - she says, low-voiced, quiet. "What is it?"
[Fire Claws] He paused a moment more, wondering. His eyes turn back on his Jarl. Curious of what was said.
"Aye shal bare da burdin of dis punishment. Bu' mahbe Starla is rite... aye ave no love for da two-legged. Aye handl' wat aye ave too. But aye will not go out mah way to 'elp dem. Save dem. Kill wyrm yeah. But two-legs... dey brough dis on demselves. Nah kin no. But da rest. Aye cam ta kill wyrm... not ta be two-leg kind. Spent mah youth hatin' monkey, wary of two-leg 'fore change... afta change not much different."
[Sorrow] "Have you been up in the belltower?" Kora asks Fire Claws, a slicing, dark-eyed look follows as she lifts her chin toward the doors in the south western corner of the church. Linus barred the rest of the pack from the belltowers, preferring to tend to the ravens that were Hrafn's counterparts on this side himself.
He's gone now.
Kora misses him; an ache behind her breastbone.
His presence little more than peripheral, at the edges of the pack's consciousness these nights.
She pauses long enough for Fire Claws to say: yea or nay, then tells him to "C'mon," and starts off toward the belltower, that awkward human waddle defining her gait, her center of gravity offkilter, her weight too far forward; awkward for it, ungainly as any human woman in late pregnancy would be.
The stairs are worn from years of use, and there's a musty scent in the tower. Bird shit and feathers scattered about here and there. When they get close to the top, a handful of brooding birds take flight - an impression of black wings against the night sky. But just as she knew, there is a view here of the territory; squat and industrial, the city spread out beyond, the weaver's towers gleaming in the south, the office buildings, brilliant, reflective, glowering where they erupt against the horizon, the El tracks and elevated highways looped around the interior like veins and arteries, carrying the lightwaves of late night commuters into or away from nameless destinations. There is the lake to the east, flat and dark, water and sky merging together almost seamlessly at the horizon; and to the west, the city continues unbounded in its outward sprawl.
She's quiet for long minutes, encouraging him to look, to take in the view. At some point, she says, "Big fucking place, isn't it?" A supple twist of her mouth, lost in the shadows.
[Fire Claws] When Kora asks about the belltower it was obvious that he was never up there. Raven's own were tended there, kept by Bone~Writer for the time to ensure that Hrafan's children were tended in the physical as well as the spiritual. He did not venture onto the turf that the spirit talkers took as their own, not lightly. The spiritual ones of the true born tended to bend in strange manners that defied even the most abnormal of two-leg.
He furrowed his brow as she ascends, beckoning him to follow.
It was odd to watch a Jarl of the Get seem to waddle like a penguin in any manner. Even if they held the future of the tribe within their womb it was still something to see. A strange feeling to follow the demands of a leader who could not fight. But then again alpha wolves were central to a pack when they were with cub. Even if the territory was threatened bu another pack.
He does not say a word when offered to look out on the city from such a height. The city spread out further and further than one could image. Much farther than one could see from this level in the air. It was filled with buildings, cement and glass, steel and concrete, blacktop and iron. Where she saw a large city building to life he saw only one thing.
"Da scab seem neva endin'"
[Sorrow] "Pretty much," she says, low-voiced, looking out over the expanse as her attention swings back to the lupus. "And it's teeming with humans, yeah? Every little point of light is another one. Sometimes the Wyrm hides inside them. Sometimes it preys on them. Sometimes it strikes through them, and sometimes - " a supple curve of her mouth, mostly hidden in the shadows.
The reflection of the lights downtown casts a crawling band of light across her cheeks, highlighting the smooth line of her cheekbones, the plain of her temples sweeping up to a high, clear forehead. A half dozen refracted lights gleam across the surface of her eyes when she looks back to him. " - rarely, they fight back against it. If they, collectively, are the authors of anything, I think it's the Weaver's dominance, not the Wyrm's, yeah? But I think that they are the instruments rather than the authors, even then.
"If you were, say, hunting cougars in a forest full of deer and elk, though. Would you ignore the elk and deer? Or would you want to know their ways? How the herds move; how they startle. The noise the bucks make when they sense danger near. The way they stampede when the cougar strikes. All that?"
[Fire Claws] (Are you really that thick not to get the analogy?)
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 1, 1 (Botch x 2 at target 6)
[Fire Claws] He looks at her for a second with utter confusion over his face. He couldn't seem to match the words with the meaning by any possible way. He could only think of the situation as it was laid out.
"Wh'ja 'untin cougars?"
[Sorrow] "It's an analogy," she returns, with a quiet huff of an exhalation and a twist of her mouth. "One thing stands for another. In this case: cougars are the Wyrm, the forest is the city, and the deer and elk are humans. You see? If you want to hunt the Wyrm in this habitat - if you want to successfully hunt the wyrm, systematically.
"To track down the big threats to the Caern and the territory on this side and the other - you have to know how the animals in the forest move. How they react. How they look when they are sick, how they look when well. When they will stampede; when they will charge; when they will die."
[Fire Claws] He looked at his Jarl for a moment and then looked out on the city once more. His mind still running with the idea of hunting. His mind trying to put together what was being said. He didn't understand it, how could he.
"In da woods... ya 'unt da elk and da deer. Whe' ya com across dat cougars... yeah deal wit dem. But ya still hunt da elk and deer."
[Sorrow] "I didn't say it was a perfect analogy. Yeah?" She says, shaking her head. "Pretend the cougars are tainted; you aren't hunting for meat and food; you're hunting them as if you would wyrm. Do you understand now?"
[Fire Claws] The wolf born seem intend on just watching the city for the moment, watching the cars move down the streets and avenues that dictate each pathway through the maze of the scab, he watches as lights go out here and there as the city is becoming more and more sleepy. He watches and ponders what he would do if he were hunting wyrm. These humans were instruments of the wyrm.
"Aye see"
He watched the city as the two-legs slept and he pondered what new horrors the wyrm would use them for. What torments Gaia would suffer due to these instruments.
"Ya watch the prey to betta undastand da otha predators."
[Sorrow] "Exactly," Kora returns, a quiet, sweeping look back out to the city. A supple note of approval in her eyes and voice. "You have to take the time to understand them if you want to hunt effectively among them.
"If you just want to through yourself forward into glory," a twist of her shoulders, narrow for her tall frame, swallowed by the fabric of her sweatshirt. " - well, there are a half-hundred deadly battles within reach, yeah? But you want more than that, I think. You don't just want to kill Wyrm, you want to do so effectively. It's what Hermodr expects of us, too.
"You can't kill all of them; and underneath, some of them are more on our side than the Unmaker's. Not enough, to be sure. But some." Then she cuts a glance away from the horizon, dark eyes settling on Fire Claws. "I'm not suggesting that you go out of your way to protect them, mind you. On some level, it they need protection - if they've seen some manifestation of the Wyrm, or a Garou in warform, they are already compromised. Broken. Bleeding, and you have to root them out for their own good, or kill them to protect the veil."
Pitiless in this, the Skald.
"But your hate is wasted on them; this is their habitat, and to hunt here, you have to know how they move."
