2018.09.02: Formori Spring

Formori Spring
Immediately after sparring, Sergei shows up to take the Cub and Cliaths to deal with formori.
IC Date	Sunday, September 2nd
IC Time	08:53:23 2018, PDT. (After sparring log)
Players	Journey, Andy, Lleutrim, Jake Miller, Skully, Aleksandr, Sergei
Location	Deep Forest - Amphitheater, then somewhere off in the Deep Forest not near to the Caern.
Spheres	Shifter

OOC Note: This scene is a continuation of the 'Impressive Matches' log - split into a separate log scene.

Deep Forest - Amphitheater

The amphitheater is a place for those within the sept to hold gatherings of any kind. Anything from moots, to any number of challenges, to stories that are told, as well as a place to meet for present as well as future plans to be discussed for the sept as a whole, and a variety of other things of importance. Like the rest of the caern, this area is covered within the thickness of the underground forest. Mountainous trees reside all around and throughout here as they stretch high into the heavens of this cavernous place forming a dense canopy overhead. Sounds of life can often be heard as well as the whisperings of the spirits on a soft and harmonious breeze. The area of the amphitheater has been cut back to form a wide open space that could easily fit several hundreds of individuals.

At the very center of the area is a half-domed sphere-shaped structure made from stone. Beneath the dome is a flat and wide stage also carved out of stone and provides ample room for any number of shifters or kinfolk alike to use it. Surrounding the front and to both sides of the stage are various large logs that have been formed out tree trunks. Each log is cut in half as the flat part has been turned face-down so as to serve as a comfortable place to sit. The top of each log where an individual might place themselves is smoothed and sanded over to help add support as well provide for cushioning if just a bit. The land starting from the where the main stage is ascends upwards so that each sitting area isn't on the same level as the others and thus providing everyone a chance to see whether taller or shorter in height. The air here is thick with moisture and lies heavy upon the flesh like a second skin.

Often soupy mists of fog creep into the area like opalescent tendrils searching for prey. The swift umbral winds that bleed in from the heart and stream throughout the entirety of the caern aid in making the place rather pleasant to be in and easier to see one's surroundings as well as serves as a means for a refreshing, cool, breeze. The ground is soft and covered with a dense moss as well as rich, green, grass. Often individuals might come here even when there's no event going on if but to have a place to simply talk in private or perhaps enjoy a picnic with family, friends, lovers, and pack mates. The feel of the area one might get from these grounds is that of a past rich with life, and full of meaning. There's quite a bit of history here within this place and the legends of previous times before today's age can nearly be felt as a physical representation that could easily touch one's heart and soul.

---

Jake is standing near the others, smiling slightly. Apparently he's pleased with what's just transpired here. He nods to Lleupine. "I've been anxious to see some of the new arrivals in combat." Jake turn looks back at Judah and Skully. "I do have specific notes for both of you but will save those for later."

Sergei comes walking into the Amphitheater with a purpose and pauses when he sees the gathered group and he nods to Jake and Andy with respect "Wyrmfoe, Den Father. My ranging has turned up an enemy that might prove to be a good teachable moment for a new patrol group. Perhaps even the Cub could come along, he might enjoy fighting something that hits back hard enough to feel it. Likely tastes just as terrible."

An introduction, standing and facing both Sergei and Andy, here it comes. << I am Aleksandr Vladislav Grigory Alexeyev the fourteenth, Cliath born on two-legs under the Crescent Moon to the Silver Fangs of the Sept of the Cold Wind, under the Lodge of the Moon and rited Lights the Darkness. Son to Walks in Shadow, Elder Crescent Moon of the Silver Fangs of the Sept of the Cold Wind, Scourge of the North. Grandson to King Luna's Blade, Elder Ahroun of the Silver Fangs, the White King of the Sept of the Cold Wind. Great Grandson to Claws the Spirit, Elder Crescent Moon of the Silver Fangs of the Sept of the Cold Wind. Great-Great Grandson to Rends the Flesh, Elder Ahroun of the Silver Fangs and King of the Sept of the Cold Wind. Great-great-great Grandson to Stalks the Wyrm, Ragabash Elder of the Silver Fangs of the Sept of the Cold Wind. Great-great-great Grandson to Luna???s Might, Elder Ahroun of the Silver Fangs and King of the Sept of the Cold Wind.>>

Jake turns towards Sergei and offers a nod of the head. "Howling-Wind. Perfect timing. These two were just sparring." He gestures towards Judah and Skully. "An enemy, eh?" His eyes sparkle. Hoo-boy! Enemy! "Sounds like a teachable moment for sure. I would like to see the Cub included, if the Denfather agrees." He glances at Andy to see what his decision on the matter is.

"Hello, Howling-Wind-rhya," Skully offers with polite simplicity when he's done helping Lights-The-Darkness with his stone harness, stepping back to give the Silver Fang wolf his space. He ducks his head, turning to look at Jake for a moment, and adds, "Lights-The-Darkness won. He was too fast for me. But we're done now, and I'm at your disposal, sir. I go where you say." Simple man, simple words.

The grey wolf shifts into the form of Donnachaidh wearing a black T-shirt that says 'Semper Fidelis' across the front in the usual USMC text font. "Howling-Wind-rhya." Lleu smiles, "Of course I want to go." Jarhead Galliard. He too looks back to where Andy is seated, "I will follow orders, if orders are given, Lucky-Bastard-rhya. I'll be fine." A nod for Jake, "It's been an exciting day today."

Andy was all spaced out, like he tends to do. His attention turns toward Sergei as his name is spoken, or his title, rather, and he blinks, forcing himself into focus. "What... like now? Let's do it." He's ready for some action, regardless of the fact he got his ass handed to him and his possum abandoned him TWICE.

Lights-The-Darkness ???s introduction done to both the new comers, he takes a page from the rest, dipping his head low to Sergei and chuffing. <<Here to serve Sept. Whatever is needed, Howling-Wind-rhya.>> Though he falls silent at that, eyes going from one Elder to the next as he contemplates what is next. Despite his burden, he does seem ready to go.

Sergei looks over to watch Judah as he introduces himself and listens quietly before responding "I am Sergei Ivanov of human name. Among the Nation I am Howling-Wind, son of Bloody-Snow, son of Blood-on-the-Wind. Wolf-born Ahroun of Great Wendigo's people at the Sept of the Siberian Wilds. I am now a member of the Sept of Enduring Spirit and the Pack Terminal Velocity in service to Merlin and the Nation as an Adren. Eye-of-the-Storm is my Alpha and Defiant-Storm oversees my work with the patrols." Then to Jake "There are a few targets actually, not likely worthy of your personal attention but if you wish to observe." Andy gets a nod also "Shall we all go then Den Father?"

Lleutrim's reply gets a light laugh from Jake and he nods. "Yes, indeed. And it's about to get even more exciting. Just stick close and be prepared for anything." Jake's eyes sparkle again. Yup, he's looking forward to this. The Ahroun turns back to Sergei. "I won't interfere and will remain a simple observer, yes. Unless of course things get out of hand, which I doubt they will. Please, lead on."

"Um.. Andy Davis, Lucky Bastard, Athro, two legs, no moon, Alpha of Roadkill, packed under Opossum, Denfather." He motions toward the lower levels.. Cliaths and cubs. "Let's head out, yo." No rest for the weary. Lleutrim gets a clap on the back. "Nah, you're in it. C'mon. All out. Let's do this."

Only when Andy speaks up does Skully realize his error; he hasn't introduced himself. He turns toward the Ragabash and bows his head. "My apologies, Den Father Lucky Bastard-rhya. I forgot my manners. I'm Evan James Pridemore II Weathers-the-Storm, called Skully by most folk, but never to be called 'Numbskull' again by word of Defiant Storm-rhya. Cliath Metis Ahroun of the Wendigo of Los Coyotes. I'm very new, sir. I should've spoken sooner."

It seems he'd be more contrite, but the wolves are gonna get a move-on, and it sounds like there's gonna be a fight. "Hoka-hey," Skully grunts to himself, flowing on down to... well, he's a goddamn Grizzly Bear with a tail.

Jake smiles as Skully introduces himself then glances to Sergei and Andy. "I call him Pridemore. I just love that name. It just screams warrior. I mean...it's just /perfect/."

Andy nods to Skully, giving him a friendly clap on the... elbow. Goddamn that's a big motherfucker. "Yeah, but what does he WANT to be called? Not Numbskull. I'll be splitting some skulls if I hear that," Andy says without much pomp or circumstance, then he shakes his head. "Don't worry about. I fucking hate intros and we were busy getting our asses handed to us by Silver Fangs." He offers a fistbump to Skully. "Underdogs unite, bro." Then down to the serious stuff.

Lleupine comes along with the others where ever it is that Sergie is leading them. He'll hike along quietly, listening to and watching the others. The Galliard Cub's grey eyes are also watchful of the woods they pass through, alert and interested. Donnachaidh's not saying anything. The Marine is content depsite having lost his second sparring match against Sten earlier.

Sergei drops into his wolf form for transit and leads the way as he heads off in a direction that will wind up seeming familiar to Lleutrim, explaining as they go >>My pack mate, Like-the-wind, and I found a trail from where the cub made his kill, and found more wildlife that had been infected by whatever toxins had changed the deer. They weren't roaming though, they seem to have settled in to defend the watering hole from intruders but only let animals through to be changed.<<

Weathers-the-Storm swats a paw at the offered fist-bump from Andy, doing a passable job at making the gesture in Hispo. He dashes after Sergei in a heavy lope, taking in the scents in the air while he listens to his elder with floppy ears. No words, no questions; this is a Hunt.

As soon as Sergei leaps into wolf form, Lleu goes back to Lupus as well. SO much easier if they all run together as wolves than him being an odd homid out. The grey wolf bounds along, happy to be wolfing it, scenting so many things, silvery eyes sharp as he listens and move along with the others like a temporary pack. Though some of them are in Hispo like Weathers-the-Storm, the Galliard opts for the smaller, more stealthy form.

Black Wolf transforms into a wolf.

Jake takes his cue from Sergei and shifts into a huge black wolf too. He lopes along with the others, staying quiet, and soon another shape joins him. Striding silently. That's a hint! Yup, it's Shaderunner in his wolf form, also joining the group. They follow along, simply letting Sergei do his thing and staying out of the way. This hunt is for the newbies. The Elders won't be getting involved and keeping a very low profile.

Shaderunner shifts and flows down into the form of a Jackal.

Shaderunner shakes out his fur and sneezes and looks around, sniffing to Jake, ready to follow, looking around and sniffing, getting the scent picture. His fur settles and looks around like a powerful Elder lurking amongst you. IGNORE ME!

Lights-The-Darkness follows along quietly, listening to the others talk. Specifically, at first, Skully and Andy talking about Silver Fangs. But underdogs? He was the underdog, not Skully. Still, he doesn???t object, or even voice a word about it, plodding along after the groups, eyes and ears open, sniffing intently. It???s only Lupus for now, maybe he???ll change when the danger presents itself.

Lucky Bastard Woof shifts down to his lupus form as well, totally missing that Shaderunner is even there. He lets Sergei take the lead and he hangs back in the back to let the kids take the glory

Sergei leads the group along further and they pass through a clearing with a little stream running through it that Lleutrim recognizes. Its nicer now though, the slime is gone and if the soil along the banks wasn't disturbed in spots you wouldn't know anything had happened here. To the two cliath's he asks >>Have either of you battled Fomori before?<<

Lupus, lupus, lupus; Weathers-the-Storm knows his role, and as Full Moon he keeps to Hispo to be ready for a fight. Maybe it's not as nimble or swift, but we're not jumping over candlesticks right now, and the wolf-bear is keeping wary in case things go Very Wrong for all of them. He keeps pace with the other low-ranking Garou, sticking to the edge of the pack with his good eye outward in case anything sweeps in from the sides. He tries not to pay too much attention to the fact that the brass are taking up the rear, keeping his eye out for what's ahead. When questioned, he responds bluntly, << Yes, Howling-Wind-rhya. >>

Lights-The-Darkness carries on, somewhere in the middle of the pack, with the Elders at the back, but no less alert because of it. Ears are constantly perked, eyes scan the area, and his nose sniffs in this direction and that, as if waiting for something to present itself to his senses. He's quiet, until addressed, lowering his maw slightly at the question. << I have. >> He confirms, just as Weathers-the-Storm does. If nothing else, he had to be shown what they are and how they present themselves.

Lleupine moves along more fluidly in wolf form that anyone might expect of a Cub who has spent more than 30 years as a man. Donnachaidh has taken to the true wolf form like a fish to water. He moves easily, leaping with lightfooted silence through the forest and over the stream as if born to it. Eyes and ears alert, nose working, pausing frequently to sniff about and turn to run again. Relaxed while being vigilant at the same time. That part may be the Marine in him, a combat veteran. Even if not so much against spirits. The Fianna cub keeps up easily and likes to range a little outside of the pack, spread out rather than clumping together. Again, Marine training to spread the targets out - but also watching that portion of their perimeter on the move.

Shaderunner looks to the rest of the group, following along behind quietly, ghosting along, observing without comment.

Lucky Bastard Woof just keeps to the back. He's alert, ears cocked and swivelling.. not quite together. it's a little weird. Like instead of a lazy eye, he has a lazy ear, but it seems to be working well enough

Howling-Wind nods as he gets answers and continues on past the celaring up stream >>My plan was to call in the Gurhal to have them cleanse the source. First we should secure it. If you have a gift to detect Taint you should be able to smell it before too much longer.<<

Defiant-Storm trots along easily, casting an occasional glance to Shaderunner now and then. It's like they're having a private conversation all their own.

And that's Weathers-the-Storm's cue. He pauses, scratching the ground with one paw, and sniffs the air. He closes his eye while he takes this lungful, and exhales with a deep, rumbled << Wyrmsign >> to confirm that yes, he does indeed smell them out there.

Lights-The-Darkness has been on alert since they left the Caern, even if it wasn't need that soon. His nose and all of his other heightened senses dialed in to the environment around him. When Howling-Wind says that they should be able to smell the taint soon, he searches for just that. Catching wind of the wolf bares his teeth a little and retracts his nose from that direction, as if unable to bear the scent. His teeth remain bared, too, a low growl starting to emit from deep in his throat. That being his confirmation that, he too, smells it.

Shaderunner listens, ears flicking, concentrating. Yup Wyrm. The information causes no twitch. Silent observation.

Oh wait, a tree with ferns and mosses. Lleupine stops a second while the others are doing important stuff and he takes a piss. Let those baddie formori know who's turf this really is!

Howling-Wind nods and continues along the way as the trainees confirm their observations >>Another hundred yards and the stream won't be safe to drink, not long after that is the watering hole and the fomori. One used to be a rattlesnake, one used to be a goat, and the other used to be a coyote. Its not a kin-beast, I checked.<<

'Used to be.' The very words send a shiver of anger down Weathers-the-Storm's spine, raising his hackles in anger at the very thought. At the /affront/ of it. His lip curls briefly, but he keeps himself in check. << How would you have us go, Howling Wind-rhya? >> he growls deeply, deferring tactics to the one who brought them along to this test. He appears ready to fight at the side of his ersatz pack, but also appears as if it might be a good idea not to ask him to wait patiently too much longer.

Shaderunner flicks an ear, looking in the direction indicated, and then around at the rest of the group as the Wyrm threat is laid out. He comes to a stop, looking to the black wolf near him and then back to the group, watching.

Lucky Bastard Woof is still there, trotting along, sniffing EVERYTHING

Defiant-Storm glances again to Shaderunner and his nostrils flare. No growl, no snarl, no reaction. He's more intent on the Cliaths and Cub than the possible peril ahead.

As they confer, the Galliard offers, << I scout? If others stealthy, ambush? >> That almost worked so well before, Lleu wants to try it again. << Know they there. They know not we come. >> Yep, wolf speak is basic. The Cub has slowed his pace, looking, and now out a little ahead. Lleupine adds << Or, I can lure to you? >>

Howling-Wind nods at Weathers-the-Storm >>This is part of what the officers wanted to see. How the new fighters would handle things. They may be fomori now but they will still likely fight like the shapes they started with. They are further changed than the deer the cub fought and likely more dangerous because of that. How would /you/ handle it.<<

Weathers-the-Storm considers his elder's question, blowing a huff of air out of his nose and lowering his huge, shaggy head as he thinks. << Three sides, >> he says finally, raising his head up and looking at the other Wendigo with that one golden eye. << I charge largest, draw attention. Lights-the-Darkness and cub take flanks, sweep in, kill fast. No survivors. >>

Form shifts and contort, and a new one emerges. Lights-The-Darkness becomes a dire wolf

Shaderunner watches the converstion. No sign of what his opinion is. dun dun DUN.

Lights-the-Darkness growl growls a little at what has been said about what is ahead. Now is the time to prepare oneself for battle though. It takes some effort, maybe distracted by the scent of the Wyrm filling his senses, but eventually the giant form of his dire wolf comes out. Weathers-the-Storm has already seen it in action. <<Pack attacks together. Not separate. Take one. Then next. Together.>> The large silver wolf says. <<Quick, too.>>

Lucky Bastard Woof just hangs back, waiting and alert

<< Scout. Scout fast. >> Weathers-the-Storm agrees, adding his own urging at the end with a flick of his tail toward Lleu. When Lights-The-Darkness speaks up, Skully bows his head, ceding the point. << You win. Follow your lead. Attack together. But still take flank. I tackle, change to rend. You take by surprise, easy kill. >>

Lleu-wolf gives a sharp nod and though he's no Ragabash, he turns and heads off in the direction the others indicated. The Lupus moves as stealthfully as he can, and using what concealment he may, works his way downwind so his own scent won't be blown back towards the formori. Nose scenting, pale eyes to catch the ambient light, as the grey Galliard moves off.

The guardians of the fouled spring are more vigilant than the Deer Lleutrim snuck up on but not perceptive enough. Its a smallish pool fed by a spring coming out of a crack in some rocks. The outflow on one end becomes the stream the group followed to get here. Even though its trying to hide he sees the snake curled amongst the rocks, it helps that its bigger than it should be. The demon-fox looks a little shambly and rotten on one side of the pool, and on the other side is the Goat. The Goat used to be a mountain goat but now its got leathery hid under its hair, the horns are longer, sharper, and have a green shimmer to them, and it has pointy carnivore teeth. Its clearly not okay.

The Galliard returns as quietly as he had slipped away. Lleu slips back to Homid form when he gets right up so he can speak clearly and without difficulty. "There's a spring, coming up among rocks that feeds the stream. The snake, it's large and set up on the rocks for their residual warmth. The canide looks to be a fox or coyote but it's in bad shape, all rotted. On the other side of the stream is the goat. It's /big/ like a mountain goat but mostly ... hairless? Larger horns with a green sheen, like the buck I'd killed. It has nasty teeth." Donnachaidh looks to Skully, he's all yours. I'll go for the snake and you the fox, Lights? Or we can swap, I don't care." Lleu quiets, ready to slip into Hispo but he waits for any questions.

< Take goat together. Me first, you two flank. /Together/. Easy kill, >> Weathers-the-Storm replies, stating the blend of his plan and Lights-The-Darkness' rejoinder. << Then split. If kill quick, I kill snake, you two fox. If not, leave me goat, go kill snake together. >>

Lights-the-Darkness repeats what he said before after listening to the report. <<Pack attacks together. Weathers-the-Storm lead first. Attack Coyote or fox. Then goat. Then snake. Together. One. Two. Then three. Faster. Smarter.>> The giant silver wolf then looks between the other two, since they are making decision apparently for counters or rebuttals to his idea. He???s apparently open to it.

Shaderunner watches, ears flicking, no sound coming from him. Juuuust watching.

Howling-Wind is listening to the trainees, waiting to see how they handle the situation

Defiant-Storm continues to pay rapt attention to the group, standing stock still for now. He's so still that he nearly blends into his surroundings.

Arguing.

Lleutrim growls, "Shut up." That's an order. From the /Cub/. It's a Marine Captain's voice that snaps at them. Donnachaidh lowers his voice at once, "If we go only for the goat, the snake is poisonous and will strike. The fox may flee and escape. No, we must take them all three at once. Then we'll support each other as it unfolds. We /do/ have backup if we need it." Lleu looks to the Elders, then back, "Let's be smart about this."

Shaderunners nose works as they're glanced to.

Lucky Bastard Woof just stays where he is, tail down, head up, ears cocked and shifting here and there.

Lights-the-Darkness concedes one point to Weathers-the-Storm at any rate. <<Goat first then.>> Apparently that???s not really a stickler point for him. <<No need to split. Fox or coyote. Then snake. Fast. Harry like wolf.>> The wolf bristles a little, looking from the giant to Lleu. <<Don???t know strength. Strength of wolf. Together.>> He stops arguing though. There???s a thing about wisdom. It???s either listened to or not. He seems to let it fall at that point to the other two.

Rankless or not, the ring of truth in Lleutrim's voice is enough that Weathers-the-Storm drops his tail, head bowed. He knows when he's been out-thought. There are no more arguments from him; this is now a contest between the other two.

Having given the orders, Lleu makes eye contact with each of the Cliaths, then he shifts into Hispo, becoming a huge dire wolf himself with bloody looking flanks. Sooty dark on top. He bares his teeth and growls, << Let's go. Quiet, then rush. >> He's about to find out if the other two /can/ move quietly at all. With Skully in the middle, Lleu takes up the Wendigo's blind side to guard it. That leaves Light on the other, and they get moving. From the angle Donnachaidh leads, they should get on the goat and fox at once, coming up the stream and push them against and on top of the snake and the rocks if necessary.

Shaderunner moves slightly, watching as the guys make up someones mind and start moving. Just watching to see how things work out.

Lucky Bastard Woof nods his approval of the tactic and edges forward just a little bit ahead of the elders. He IS only an Athro, afterall. He could still use a little action if need be.

Shaderunner stays far enough in the back to watch and not give anything away, waiting for the sweet sounds of all fucking hell breaking loose to come closer.

Saaaaaame gurl same. Andy is just watching and waiting. If he sees an obvious hole somewhere, he'll step in. Otherwise, let the kids play.

Defiant-Storm finally makes a move. An ear flick. Right ear. About a quarter of an inch. Yup, that's it. Show's over. He simply keeps watching the others plan to jump into action and turn the forest red with blood and thick with screams. Hopefully not their own.

Shaderunner moves for a good spot to watch, looking down at the battle.

Defiant-Storm also watches, alongside Shaderunner. The wolf doesn't even blink.

Howling-Wind is watching the goings on also, staying well clear of the trainees and their fight.

Weathers-the-Storm prowls as quietly as he's able through the brush, keeping his eye on the goat and waiting for his moment. When it seems the fomor is finally giving him an opening at its neck, the huge dire wolf charges from the brush with a snarling << HOKA-HEY! >> as he breaks cover, clearing ground swiftly and sinking his titan fangs into it's neck. The goat bucks, loosing itself and butting those massive, toxic horns right in his chest just as he flows into his War Form.

Now clearing eleven feet and pissed off to no end, he swings a massive handful of razor-sharp death at the beast's flank, tearing a bloody chunk free of its leathery hide. The other hand comes soon after, raking claws along the goat's ribs, but his third strike goes wide, coming as it does on his blind side and missing the proper depth.

Up they go, as quietly as they may through the forest and up the stream. Until they are close enough to see their quarry... The trio comes thundering in! The Galliard comes in Hispo as a huge dire wolf and does his best to lay into the snake that's coiled in rocks. His initial attack is /beautiful/ and yet somehow his claws only skim off of the scales, causing the venomous reptile no real harm. All he did was piss it off! The snake spits venom and surprised, the Galliard tries to snap a paw out and bat it's head aside before the stream can soak Lleu! Alas, to no avail, the stinging venom strikes him!

Lleu snarls and lunges again, this time striking a blow that rips open scales and injures the Wyrm infected snake. There is the quickest of glances back to check on the other two - to see how Skully is doing with that goat, to keep tabs on Lights-the-Dark. Lleu may be busy with the snake but he's a protective son of a bitch who's not about to ignore if the other two get badly injured - yet they seem to be doing fine. Especially Skully! His focus snaps back to dealing with the reptile and not letting it get away!

Foxes are fast, there???s a reason the wolves even have a frenzy named after it. Judah knows this, but he has to prepare himself for the worst, he doesn???t know what powers these fomori have, and they could have many. He doesn???t know how powerful they are either. It was why he advised pack tactics, to no avail. Still, he puts all his efforts in, but this different than fighting a bit target like Weathers-the-Storm, and Lights-The-Darkness???s first swipe with a claw as he comes crashing out of he bush on leaps at the fox, half flying through the air finds no purchase. He???s fast though, and turns making another attack, but the fox does not seem to want to fight. Perhaps it???s fear, but his second, far more focused swipe at the side of the fox is dodged again. A low growl starts to emit from the large silver wolf, and grows, starting to reverberate in his throat. Menacing. He starts to turn once more towards the fox, teeth bared. He has many reasons to be angry.

As soon as Lleu sees that the other two are holding their own, he goes after that snake with a renewed vengance! The Galliard dire wolf snarls and leaps onto the serpent, tearing it up with his claws most viciously. Rotted, nasty snake guts spew forth. Donnachaihd hops down into the stream and rubs himself quickly in the mud to rid himself of the acidic venom that tries to burn him!

All kinds of shit is breaking loose. Lleu comes up out of the water and sees Skully is badly injured, the goat still on it's hooves and attacking. The Fianna grey Hispo leaps, fangs flashing as he sinks a bite into the back leg of the beast and drags it down, tearing the whole f*cking haunch about clean off of the damn thing! Now if only it were untainted, goat meat is delicious. Not so this! Nasty, disgusting!

No time for making horrible faces of gagging filth. The Cub sees the rotting fox is still dancing! Lights has kept it from escaping! Breathing hard, Lleupine goes in after it as well, sinking his teeth into the once beautiful pelt and ravaging it. He doesn't quite succeed in killing it though.

Weathers-the-Storm seems focused on his opponent, swinging at the mutant goat's face but misjudging his blow as the fomor lowers his head for another battering ram. The horns hook in his flesh, tearing a bloody chunk out of the Ahroun's side that raises his hackles and has him snarling furiously. Then, suddenly, Lleu -- right there, out of the blind darkness, all fangs and ferocity -- and the goat from Hell is heading back home, split nearly in two and no longer of any concern to the living.

There are no words exchanged, no looks, no signs; dead is dead, and Garou know what must come next. The pair round on the fox in its death's dance with Lights-the-Darkness, and when it dodges aside it hops right into the Ahroun's reach, taking a handful of death across the neck and gushing foul blood across the clearing.

Well, the silver dire wolf is certainly not looking like he did in the ring. Call it the size of the fox. If he needs an excuse, though it's doubtful he will make any. The Theurge is not one rage and combat. He???s a thinker, more than that, he???s more focused on things spiritual, than martial. Still, he's competent enough, the ring proved that. And yet, this fox has his number. The little thing isn't so much of a worry to Judah in that way, its first bite at the silver dire wolf finds purchase, but draws no blood, the wolf shaking it off like it would a gnat. However, it's just too quick for Lights-the-Darkness, one swipe of the claws finds nothing but air, as the two circle, the fox another bite, that the wolf is too fast for, and then another clawing rake at the Fox that it darts away from. Until finally, the other two join the dance.

Skully first and then Lleutrim. They takes it down in tandem, and yet he kept it busy? There???s that, one supposes, though it certainly won???t please the Silver Fang. He still must feel in the right about his suggestion on how to handle it, however this may have turned out. It???s down, it???s out, and Judah presses large paw to its throat, digging them in deep, before pulling them out, throat of the fox and all coming with it. Dead. A small mercy. That done, he looks around, not to the Elders, but to the others, if the Elders wanted to help, they would???ve. <<Must cleanse now.>> His eyes pause on Lleutrim, the cub for a minute. Something from before remembered. Something from before will be brought up after, assuredly. But not now, not yet. He moves to circle around, checking for anymore tainted creatures in the area, then he will get to Cleansing. That???s why Shaderunner taught him this, right?

Howling-Wind approaches the clearing around the pool >>Cleanse yourselves. The Gurhal will be contacted about healing the land. Do any of you have a way to make fire? The corpses should be burned.<<

Shaderunner walks, placidly in the midst of the Rage and violence. As the last enemy falls the Strider makes his way to Howling Wind. <Well matched.> He praises, and moves along, sniffing, getting a look at the remnants of the battle, seeing what the kids are going to do with their teachers commands.

The peril is ended, blood has been shed, but the Rage still fills Weather-the-Storm at the very nadir of combat. The huge -- no, the TITANIC -- crinos throws his head back and HOWLS; a bone-chilling, soul-rending cry of victory, booming from massive lungs like a horn blast from the depths of the abyss itself. Wordless to most, the wolf-blooded will nevertheless hear it ring true as it declares << WE ARE PACK! >> to the heavens so that Luna herself can hear.

His victory cry done, Weathers-the-Storm falls forward onto both hands, taking huge lungfuls of air into his mouth and regaining himself moment by aching moment. He reaches out to Lleu, one giant, gentle hand on the Hispo's back, and growls simply, << Warrior. >>

The Ahroun's sole eye turns to Lights-The-Darkness, however, and with equal simplicity he declares, << Your way was best. We were wrong. >>

Lucky Bastard Woof trots along beside Shaderunner and barks out, <<Any of you guys know how to cleanse?>>

It /is/ done. What a fight! Lleupine pants for air, gags and vomits up filth, making nasty retching sounds. Tastes /so/ bad. Fugh. He paws his face and tongue, trying to get rid of it. Can't go and drink from the stream either, though he was in the mud and some of the water. The Cub's going to need plenty of cleansing. Lleu shakes off what he may and goes over to check on Skully, see how badly he's hurt. Himself? Didn't take any harm other than the horrible rot he'd bitten into.

Lleu lifts his head when Howling-Wind comes to them, then looks to Lights-the-Darkness. Skully-beast is then howling loudly enough to shattered the heavens! The Galliard dire wolf shifts his from back into that of a tired man who can speak more easily.

"I don't think we were wrong, Weathers-the-Storm-rhya. The Fox would have gotten away from us." Lleu looks to the Elders who will decide. He's covered in mud, himself. He looks back to the other two, "I owe you an apology though, Lights-the-Darkness-Rhya and Weathers-the-Storm-ryha. I should not have lost my temper and told you to shut up when you were arguing, and ordered you around." A negative movement of his head about the cleansing rite, "Not I, Lucky-Bastard-rhya."

Lights-the-Darkness can't do what he needs to in wolf. Despite Dragomir's orders, sometimes they have to be weighed against what needs to be done. For the first time in almost two days, he takes his natural form. Shift and contorting to homid once more. << I have fire. Not in the traditional sense. I can cleanse, also. Shaderunner-rhya taught me. >> So obviously Journey already knows that. He has a backpack, obviously dedicated. He takes it off and sets it aside, pulling the tainted creatures corpses carefully into a pile. Possibly for burning. Work still to be done. He's quiet about the rest of it. He's often quiet, and calm, amybe a side effect of his low rage, of hsi Crescent Moon birth.

Shaderunner turns his muzzle to Lucky Bastard, <Thank you for reminding me> Then he moves, stepping to Judah as he sets up for Cleansing. <You will teach Weathers-The-Storm the Rite of Cleansing and then the two of you will come to me for Contrition. Be confident in this when you tell Eye of the Storm my orders.> He then watches the Rite prep.

Lleutrim can at least help gather the dead things and haul them over to help Lights-the-Darkness in prep for his Rite.

<< No, >> replies Weathers-the-Storm simply, the low growl coming from his bowed head as he rests with his hands on the ground, knees in the mud and good eye closed. His breathing is labored but steady, the spoils of the fight finally catching up to him, and he stays that way for a good long while. He takes Shaderunner's instructions with equanimity, bowing his head deeper but keeping his eye closed. << Yes, Shaderunner-rhya, >> he agrees, pushing up to his feet finally and turning to Lights-The-Darkness. << I am your student, >>

Howling-Wind steps off to the side for a bit to chat with the Wyrmfoe about the trainees performance.