2019.02.20: Surviving the Fimbulwinter

Surviving the Fimbulwinter
The pack questing to learn of the history of the Fianna finally arrives in the Legendary Realm, in the midst of the great northern Fimbulwinter - the Wyrm's Winter of the dead forgotten. Continued from TBD Visions of Tara
IC Date	2019.02.20 but time quickly becomes weird in the Umbra and passes more quickly.
Players	Lleutrim, Aleksandr, Frost, Dragomir, Ryla, and Waziyata (ST)
Location	The Legendary Realm
Spheres	Gaian Garou

Moon Phase: Full Moon (19th and 20th) shifting to Waning Gibbous as time passes in the scene...

The silver wolf looks up at Frost as she signs and then tilts his head as the proceed down the bridge. <<Not so simple. Spirits fights battles of past. All battles, good and bad. All over. If battle here. Battle there. This is what Father tells." The wolf glances at Dragomir as he might know more. The Theurge is only a budding scholar on the realms. <<Maybe best say both.>> Then the Legendary realm some into view and his attentions move from Frost to the place with what one might assume was awe, if wolves could really express awe. The snow is high and the wolf has to struggle through it a little, up quite high on its body, but the added advantage is the camouflage it provides him. He turns to look back at Frost. <<Hope dress warm.>> He studies her for a moment and then turns back to the realm, eyes studying it as far as he can see. Nose sniffing to take in any and all scents, ears perking to listen to all sounds. Not just to be alert, but also to simply absorb the place.

Twilight's Glimmer exits the bridge and takes a snoot full of snow. In lupus, it is up to her muzzle for sure. >> Snow. Why did it have to be snow. << She is a California native, and snow is something she would see on television. Thankfully she blends in with that white silvery fur of hers, and stays behind others that are making more an an indentation first. >> Never appreciated fur more. <<

Frost laughs soundlessly, her shoulders moving with the motion as she reaches to zip up her coat. She grins a little at Alek, reaching down to scoop up a handfull of snow to start compacting it into a ball. There's walking too, and if any behind her want to get into the trench she makes as she trudges forward it might help a little.

Seinneadair Blàr comes down the bridge and feels the icy, subzero wind! He stops once his paws hit the edge of the snow and he sniffs the bitter cold air. So fresh though, crisp! Just like his inner wolf likes it. A long moment is spent in silence, taking in the sight, the scents, the breathtaking view. It may have been a while since he's seen snow. He notes Lights the Darkness plunge into the snow, displaying how deep it is. Lleupine turns his head to regard what Frost is wearing, >> If you grow cold, we can layer you up with our clothes. The rest of us can go in hispo. Travel faster through the deep snow. Blaze a trail so Frost doesn't have to struggle. << His pale eyes squint against the unfamiliar glare as he looks all around once more.

>> Trees to the south and east. Will give us shelter from the wind. More likely to be game and settlements than in the open. We want to slip back to lupus if we encounter people. << Seinneadair Blàr turns his head to see what the others think of his plan.

Dragomir watches - seeing the sight unfold and he takes in a deep breath. "I have returned. Forgive me." He lifts a half-gloved hand up and gently makes a glyph over his heart before he bounds forward and smoothly shifts into that of dire wolf of silvery white. The massive wolf moves through the snow like a seal, dropping low and letting the snow cover him. A quick motion and he throws his body to the side, and rolls it into his fur and through it like he's trying to swim before finally bounding back up once more.

A homid might think he was being playful, but it is clear he's cleansing his scent for a lupus. The massive wolf moves effortlessly through the snow, and bounds forward to take point now. The wolf clearly leaving a wide trench for others behind him.

Waziyata emerges last from the moonbridge, tail wagging slowly as she drops into the deep snow. She gives herself a shake, then turns and burrows into the snow, rolling and wallowing a few moments in her breed form, actions very similar to Eye of the Storm, though she doesn't shift just yet.

Afterward, she straightens up and gives herself a shake, then grinning, tongue lolling, tail wagging slowly. >>It is like being home.<<

Then Lleutrim gives the command to shift to Hispo, and the Child of Gaia surges up to her own dire form, forging through the snow after the Athro.

Behind the group, the moonbridge stands silent, glowing silver against the snow in the dawnlight. Then, a moment after Waziyata has leapt free, the moonbridge winks out - disappearing as if it never were.

Although some members of the group are happy at the snow, the cold is bone chilling, a deathly freeze with no joy beyond the joy of life and fire enduring against it. Breath comes out in puffs and freezes instantly on contact with skin and hair alike. Exposed skin immediately begins to redden. Noses run and then begin to freeze up as well. Even the Garou are not immune to the chill, in their light california winter coats, although their natural regeneration is beginning to take care of the problem - fur growing thicker much faster than would be natural for lesser wolves.

The tundra is silent, empty, not a trace of life. Unnatural for any but the most extreme winters and lands, of which this is certainly an example.

The Fianna shifts up into hispo and he leaps from the base of the moonbridge and out into the snow! Unlike Dragomir, Seinneadair Blàr dives and rolls in the snow for FUN, flopping this way and that for a few seconds, then hopping up and shaking himself off. He has a thick pelt and though it is cold, his humor is much improved by the clean expanse of white and the distant trees scented of pines. Aye, they'll need a proper cleansing but first, trekking. The large dire wolf who's fur is shades of black, grey, cream and cinnamon runs after Wazi after she passes him! Running will help keep him warm though it doesn't last long or they'd leave Frost behind.

Before long the brief joy fades as they forge their way through the snow, a pack of wolves and a woman heading for the trees.

Twilight's Glimmer shifts up seemlessly to Hispo, and follow along in the trench being carved out. She will stick close by near Frost if space is available and she seems to need any additional warmth. Keeping alert, she watches for any signs of life or worse out there as they move along in the icy snow.

Lights the Darkness doesn't seem to take it so much as a command, but a suggestion since he doesn't shift to Hispo like the rest. He seems at home in the snow, the depth of it doesn't seem to bother him at all, or even really hinder him. Sometimes he disappears into a plough of snow just to reappear again, fur covered in the icy white. Snow was all he ever knew in Russia, in the far depths of the north especially. Maybe he's also more concerned with stealth at the moment. Plus, with Dragomir already blazing the trail, it seems not to matter. As cold as it is, he seems to be more adjusted to it than some, even if this is COLDER than he was ever used to. It's a deeper cold. He moves behind Dragomir, but stays with Frost just in case. >>If too cold, will help. Can give clothes.<< He is quite serious though, the danger of the realm ever present in his mind. He may not know much of the place, but his Father was clear about that. About all the realms, really. <<Stay close.>> This he also chuffs at Frost. Not an order, more a request, even if a protective one.

At least one of them seems to find a little enjoyment in the snow, so, Battle Singer earns the snowball that Frost is patting between her quickly chilling fingers. She lobs it over at him before he takes off, then shakes her hands and slides them into her coat pockets. She nods to Lights, doing a little scrunching down into her coat to hide her face behind the collar as she walks on.

The Silvery White Dire Wolf growls lowly, >> Have her get on my back. She will freeze before we find shelter. We must be fast. << is conveyed as he starts to move forward. Then he lowers down enough to be climbed upon and waits.

Puddle Jumper pauses as she reaches Dragomir, turning to look back to the others. After a moment, she drops back down to her breed form and gives herself another shake, a cloud of snow flying from her fur in all directions, some of it enveloping the nearby Athro.

Then she chuffs softly: >>It is not like home. Too cold. Bad death cold.<<

Twilight's Glimmer moves up near Wazi, taking a bit of flying snow, but come on - they all have snow on them now. >> Shelter yes. Get lay of the land if we can. <<

Zing! There goes a snowball! Battle Singer's tongue lolls in a wolf's silent laugh though he has stopped hopping around like a dork once they got moving. >> Good idea. She can ride and we can move faster. << Eyes bright, he is yet invigorated by the cold. Though in time, cold and hunger will make for much less happy garou. He grows silentt to conserve his strength and keeps moving, one paw after another through the snow.

>>I will take her.<< Lights-the-Darkness notes to Dragomir. <<Lead way.>> With that, the wolf grows to his own dire form, and then turns to Frost to offer her his own back to climb on. He offers no explanation as to why. >>if we move fast. Must move fast.<< Then looking back again at Frost he notes. <<Hold tight.>>

Frost gives Eye of the Storm'rhya a surprised and likely intimidated look, her feet shuffling in place as she watches him crouch down. Then Lights is changing next to her, and the expression becomes one of relief and she nods, moving over towards him. Her hands come out of her pockets and she swings a leg over his back, scrunching down against him to hold on once she's settled.

The Silvery White Dire Wolf coils its head around to look back, seeing the exchange and watches Frost climb up on the other's back. There is a firm snort into the snow, before the head coils back around once more and he bounds off. >>Agreed. Your burden. You better keep up.<< he growls, and then moves swiftly into the snow in search of shelter. >>The sooner we cleanse this shit off, the better I will feel about being here.<< obviously completely covered in bane goo, and really not pleased about that fact it seems.

Waziyata waits until the Frost situation is settled, then turns and charges through the snow after the hispo wolf, following along with the group. In the normal course of running with the pack, she settles further and further back in the ranks until she is bringing up the rear, alertly watching for dangers, keeping an eye on the group and those in it. She too goes silent, focusing her energy on the task at hand in the bitter cold.

The harsh cold sinks deep into the Garou and even deeper into Frost, who, despite her coat begins to shiver uncontrollably upon Lights the Darkness's back with the wind of the wolves' running. The land is brutally unforgiving here, and the trees deceptively close. It won't be more than a ten or fifteen minute's run to reach them, most likely, but that might be a terrible distance in the current conditions.

Frost buries her face into Lights fur, at least taking the sting off the skin there. It doesn't help the rest of her much though, as anything not touching the dire wolf loses heat the more time passes. A shiver settles in, though as she is it's likely only Alek will notice.

Eye of the Storm pushes forward, brunting the cold to carve a path for the others. The strength of the wolf shows, as he plows through and he barks back, lifting his muzzle to indicate a thicker copse of trees ahead. >>Shelter ahead.<< and he starts to push in that direction now.

Maybe it's the extra burden, maybe the wolf just isn't as prepared for the cold as he should be, but Lights the Darkness picks up Frost and sprints after the rest. The wind, the biting cold, the snow and wetness, and maybe sharing his heat allows it to hit him hard though. The huge silver dire wolf, doesn't shiver, maybe quelling it, but his skin underneath the fur raises and his teeth grit against the cold. It's all he can do just to concentrate on following and on continuing to run. He is silent and without complaint.

Thank Gaia the sun is coming /up/ and wasn't just going down. Still the snow is deep and the cold is biting. Battle Singer glances aside to keep an eye on Frost from time to time, she being their primary concern. Up ahead the Lleupine can also see the thicker stands of trees Eye of the Storm indicates. >> Caution. Should check it out carefully. << He continues to lope through the snow, sometimes in the trail of the lead Silver Fang and sometimes blazing his own path.

Waziyata runs with the group, ears laying back, tail lowering, reducing the drag of the cold air as much as possible, her fur held close against her body. She doesn't whine or complain, but when Eye of the Storm barks out that order, she barks in return.

<<Better other place! Look left. Big snow.>> On closer examination, a few dozen meters left of the copse Dragomir is heading to, there is a mound of snow built up around something, forming a natural windbreak against the north, as well as the general shelter of the fir trees all about. It is no manmade home, but perhaps easier to keep warm and protected against the wind, if it decides to blow.

Twilight's Glimmer is cold. Very cold. But she is handling it for now. She is no expert on this sort of shelter needed, but believes Wazi has a handle on something. Dragomir as well, but Wazi points to something that looks promising. Whatever the acting alpha chooses, she will follow it.

Eye of the Storm stops, extending his awareness towards the copse. >> The copse is empty.. but you are right, better cover in the other place. We will need wood for fire.. Puddle Jumper should lead you all towards the safer area - and I will fetch wood and bring it back for shelter. << he stops and looks towards Battle Singer to make the call.

Seinneadair Blàr slows to a stop and looks where Wazi indicates, >> We'll check it out. Let us see if it is suitable. << While Dragomir may start looking for wood for a fire, Lleu slightly alters his direction and picks a lope back up to go with the others to see if the mound of snow will prove to be hollowed or hollowable. >> Snow good insulator. << Once they get to it, there is much sniffing around. Unless Wazi is ahead of him, Lleupine goes around to the other side and starts poking his nose around to see what they have found.

Waziyata wags her tail once in response to the other wolves, before altering course to run toward the mound of snow in the trees. She is again silent, following the bulk of the group as they move. Once there, she joins Lleutrim in sniffing and searching about. As he moves round the mound on one side, she moves to circle from the opposite direction and flank any dangers that may be there.

Frost climbs off of Lights when they reach the mound, stumbling a little as she sinks down into the snow. Her arms around his neck she hugs him tightly before letting him go if he needs to scout around with the others.

On the other side of the mound of snow, there is more snow and evergreens. The trees grow closely together and stretch in every direction but back the way the pack has come, a seemingly vast forest. There is no danger, but also no sign of animal life. All is deathly silent and freezing cold.

When the wolves attempt to dig into the snow mound, they find out in rapid order that its center is a fallen tree - cracked and splintered at the base as if snapped with some great force and pushed to the ground. Its cracked and splitered stump is near one edge of the mound. But the tree and snow will otherwise make for the excellent beginnings of shelter. Unless whatever broke the tree comes back.

Twilight's Glimmer joins with Wazi to check things out, and notices the tree and the splinterings. >> This is concerning and not surprising. << She continues to sniff and see if she can find anything further herself. At least the protection they found so far will help them with getting their bearings.

Lights the Darkness makes for the cover as fast as he can. He knows that Frost needs it more than he does, especially. Once there and she climbs off, he shakes his head a little. <<Stay close. Need heat. More than me.>> He does help them scout, nose sniffing, ears perked, and eyes ever alert, but he moves slowly, keeping Frost beside him.

Eye of the Storm will bound off to break wood, and drag it back - whole tree if he can. The dire wolf snarls and pulls until finally coming back to the shelter they have started. >> The Fimbulwinter of the Last Days. We are in the Polar Lands.. this is the cold that will erode not merely your body, but also your spirit. We cannot survive here for long - entire Kingdoms are gripped in the icy shackles, believed to be still frozen solid in glaciers. Each generation, as the stories and tales of the Nation are neglected and forgotten.. the winter grows stronger and blankets the Realm. Behold, we walk amongst the forgotten - where Legends have died and faded from memory. <<

The Dire Wolf rises its head, and snaps down on the wood - splintering it down with the assistance of heavy claws. He does not seem pleased as to where they have arrived, perhaps this does not bode well by his temperament. >> There will be nothing to hunt. Travel will be hard. If we do not make it out in time, the Kinfolk will die first from the exposure. Time is the enemy now. <<

Waziyata rounds the pile of snow and then turns and begins digging into it, groaning quietly at the cold and the explanation of Dragomir. She glances to the others, then turns and continues working to dig into the mound of snow, uncovering some of the broken tree's branches before turning and beginning to dig in a different spot.

<<Fire. Snow tunnels. These are needed. Bad death cold will not be good for us. Worse for her. First warmth, then decide plan Battle Singer?>>

Twilight's Glimmer shifts down to lupus and helps with the shelter. She chuffs to herself >> Should have taken class in Igloos. Not Underwater basket weaving. << She digs now, helping with snow tunnels while the others do their things.

Seinneadair Blàr shifts down to lupus though it's a smaller body that will hold heat less well. He starts digging as well, throwing out snow. The lupus form can more easily fit in there without dislodging too much snow from above. >> We can hump snow up to close off most of the open side, hold in more heat. Get a fire going. << Ugh, Lleupine can start to feel some shivering coming on. At Dragomir's return he comes back out and listens, eying the wood he's brought back, then goes back to helping dig out the shelter, >> Then we can only rest briefly, and must keep moving. But which direction? Can we not open another bridge and go to another part of the Realm? << Damn, Seinneadair Blàr's really starting to feel the cold too, paws working to widen out the hollow beneath. He gets a stick in his burnt face and it hurts. The bitter cold air makes the bane gooed place burn.

As the wolves work to investigate the mound and then dig into it, the sun continues to rise ever so slowly and fitfully in the eastern sky. The daylight brings no true warmth with it, only the barest easement of the cold.

Even as the group works to create shelter and warmth, the temperature remains horribly cold. The air still. The forest silent. Dragomir's explanation of 'Fimbulwinter' would seem to fit such a dismal, barren place. Even some of the wolves are beginning to suffer from the chill of this land.

Finally, about the time the Garou have finished digging out something resembling a snow shelter, the wind begins to blow. It isn't a dramatic, angry howling, but it is a stiff, inconsistent breeze that threatens to sap the will and heat from any who venture too far from the protection of the snowbank.

The branches of the trees sigh gently, as if commiserating with the group.

Lights the Darkness shifts down to his smaller lupus form, it provides him less protection and Frost, too. But the size change is needed as he helps people dig. He shivers this time, wracked by the freezing cold, but he doesn't let it slow him, or pause him. Time is of the essence. <<Yes. Need cover. Need heat. Must hurry.>>

Frost moves to work at the snow the wolves push out, helping to build it up into a wall in between blowing on her fingers to keep them from becoming damaged. It makes signing nearly impossible between the shivering and the stiffness, but she keeps at it, doing her part to help get a windbreak built.

Eye of the Storm growls, >> I told you Battle Singer, once we entered the Realm - there is no escaping it until we have appeased the lesson it wishes to teach us. Not even the greatest Theurge can moonbridge from here, and defy the Realm's Laws. The Fimbulwinter is greatest in the North, so I suggest we begin by heading South. Navigating in the storm will be extremely difficult. We should take time to properly cleanse, and what time we have - I will use to meditate and center my spiritual self - as we all should.

Watching them suffer, Eye of the Storm growls, >> Get everyone inside.. I will block the entrance and shield you all best I can. Use the wood, get a fire going. << The dire wolf pushes the wood forward with the edge of his muzzle and then pads around - waiting to lay across the entrance to block it once all are inside safely.

>> I didn't say escape it. I wondered if it was possible to travel that way /within/ it. But I suppose not. << Seinneadair Blàr gives Eye of the Storm a glare at always misunderstanding what people say. He flicks an ear and keeps digging out a bit more as he listens. >> Wind's kicking up. Everyone inside. << A cold dry nose nudges Frost to go deep into the shelter, >> We will pile up around you and get the fire going. << A piece of the wood he picks up in his jaws to start making the fire lay, one piece at a time. Starting with a triangle, or A frame and then picking out pieces of wood to sort by size.

Frost doesn't take too much coaxing to slip inside and out of the wind, her hands in real pain at this point. She heads in as far as she can, then pulls her arms inside her coat after some fumbling, stuffing them in her armpits to try and keep her fingers from turning solid on her.

Lights the darkness chuffs at Frost. <<No more help. Need save energy. Okay?>> Then he is picking up the wood too, after saying one last thing. >>Inside. Will give clothes.<< He starts to pile up the wood with Battle Singer and whoever else is working. He's a survivalist, he's built many fires, he's rather adept at this. He doesn't have to light the fire the normal way, fi and when it is collected, he will light it magically. The Gnosis is less a concern now than time.

Waziyata ducks into the shelter and glances back to Eye of the Storm to chuff: <<Trade with Wazi, if it is too much. We can share this pain.>> But she doesn't offer any real objections or arguments with his plan, instead settling inside the shelter. She pushes the woods closer to the others, letting the two male wolves work on the delicate balancing act of building a fire pyramid with teeth and snouts rather than hands.

As the wolves finally get the wood assembled into a fire pyramid and Eye of the Storm settles his enormous bulk over the entrance to the little snow shelter, the only item left is to light the fire. Surely, the Garou can manage such a task through either magic or gear prepared for this journey.

Meanwhile, outside the shelter, the wind intensifies, carrying tiny flurries of snow with it. The sun continues its slow, meager rise in the east, shedding light without warmth. As the sky brightens it becomes clear that it will not last long - a storm is rolling in from the north. Heavy grey clouds and falling, swirling snow dominate the distant horizon, carried toward the group on the winds.

Lleutrim shifts from lupus to man so he may pull off his ruckpack and dig through it, "I brought matches so we can get the fire started..." Only, his USMC ruckpack has become a hide pack. And from inside of it, Lleu finds his 'matches' have become a river clamshell wrapped with a strip of leather. Surprised, his brows shoot up, "What the hell?" He opens it and finds it is filled with punky wood that's been beaten into dust and nestled inside of that are hot coals. "Well, I'll be damned. But, this'll work." Donnachaidh draws his knife and frays bark on twigs and collects dried pine needles to make a heart of tinder into which he'll roll one of the small hot coals with a stick. Clamshell reclosed and set aside, Lleu holds the small pile of tinder close around the coal and leans way down to start carefully blowing breath into it to ignite the tinder... it takes some care to do.

Waziyata's ears turn toward the entrance of the little snow shelter, listening to the wind and the Athro blocking the tunnel. After a moment, she chuffs softly and turns to look at Lleu. <<Wind is louder. Smells cold. Wet. Storm maybe?>>

<<There's a storm rolling in, Battle Singer. Do we wait and rest, or press on after she's warmed up?>> Is Eye of the Storm's rumble from outside.

Frost eyes the change in Lleu's matches, furrowing her brow a little bit. She signs slowly, fingers stiff and it takes her a few times to get the words to form correctly. "Wonder...brought jerky...afraid to look." then flexes her fingers before sliding them back inside her coat.

If they have time for it Aleksandr will light the fire with flint and tinder. He’s rather good at this, does it all the time. If Frost is slowly deteriorating in the cold though, he will sue magic fire. Time is of the essence. He’s an old school kind of guy. Shifting up to homid, he digs through his own pack. “I can do this if you like.” But since Lleutrim is making it work, he stops to pull some extra clothes from his bag, pull off his robe, and give them to Frost to sue. Either to wear or as a blanket. “Here.” He will assist Lleu is needed, too. “Is different laws. Things change. Happens often in the realms. They do not stay what they appear, everything is under the laws here.” He explains, maybe to both of them. He shivers himself, a little, but doesn't let it phase him.

Donnachaidh stays put while he's working on getting the tinder to ignite. Once it does, Lleu starts carefully laying the thinnest sticks over top of it to feed it. It's a delicate moment where he absolutely can't leave the fire until it's consuming a bit heavier wood. "If there's a storm blowing in, we need to stay put. It would be very stupid to leave shelter in this cold. Wind chill would strip the heat from our bodies very rapidly, and the deep snow bog us down." Lleu glances at the others, "I have the gift 'Surface Attunement' so I could run over the top of the snow at my best speed, but I doubt everyone else here also has that gift?" He sighs, "We also need sleep, warm up Frost. I say we stay and wait out the storm and pray it doesn't last for days."

The fire kicks up and Lleu starts feeding it larger sticks. A nice bright, cheerful flame. Once it's going well enough, and enough wood on it, Lleu packs away the clam shell. His nice black leather motorcycle jacket has become a rougher made brown leather cloak but not of a winter weight lined with thick fur, no. His combat boots are now hide boots, the rest of his clothing rough spun cloth of some kind in muted natural shades. Very rustic. How quaint.

Lleu digs through the rest of his pack, "I still have water but now it's in a skin of some kind, jerky looks like smoked meat, my protein bars are .. globby lumps of nuts with honey or something, now. But at least we have some food." Not a lot. He looks to Aleks, "If either you or Eye of the Storm'rhya know of something that applies that I don't know about, by all means tell me. If it's as cold and windy as I think it is we will be in bad shape pretty fast, and Frost much faster, out there."

Frost takes the offered clothing from Alek, giving him a soft and grateful smile as she starts to bundle up. Yes, while he's human shaped, she does take advantage and hugs him tightly before slithering underneath the offered robe. She looks between the two, her expression growing sad before she signs. "I'm sorry. I came to help, not be a burden."

Waziyata moves to a corner of the small space and yawns at Lleu's words. Once the fire is going, she gives herself a shake and then settles down on her belly, head moving to rest upon her paws as she watches the homids interact and debate the next move. At the talk of food, she whines faintly: << I have food. Not lots. Only some. Water. >>

Twilight's Glimmer shivers and gets near the fire. She is not changing from Lupus unless she needs to since this is much warmer. >> Leaving in storm, not good idea. Good thinking to wait. <<

Aleksandr continues to make sure Frost gets all the clothing eh can spare, shaking his head with another little shiver. “You are not a burden to me. I was unsure how the Fimbulwinter would be. I should have considered it. I have come here to understand better, and now I do. Just be warm.” He takes the hug and gives her a little one back before turning to look at Lleutrim. “It is risky, either way, Battle Singer, but this is your quest. A storm in here could last days, maybe weeks, and we will die. There is no food to hunt here. And if we wait for the storm and then need to escape once it hits, it will be worse. There is no good option. Waiting may kill us as assuredly as getting ahead of the storm.” He shakes his head a little. “There are Gifts that could help, but I do not possess them. There is no easy answer. I have some food and water, but it is sparing.” His was already in a waterskin and likely stays so. Smoked meat himself and nuts and berries, all things he forages on the regular. He looks back to Frost. “Eat a little, keep up your strength.”

A turn to look back at everyone. “We may need to come together for warmth. Like a pack of wolves. Will help. If your clothes wet, remove them.” That might be more for Frost. A shrug is given as more decide to wait. He’s expressed his opinion.

"Try to remember, all, this is not home. Cannot think the same."

Lleutrim takes of his leather cloak and also offers that to Frost if she wants it. He checks the fire and shifts back to lupus and lies down up against Frost by the fire to share what warm he may, >> Agreed but even nobody humans can huddle up beneath snow for a week at a time if need be in - 70 weather and ride out storms, and still survive. I think we are tougher than that. We were outside running for only a brief time and began suffering the cold. With wind and blowing snow so we can't even see where we are going? No. That's suicide without gifts to make it easier on all of us. Be very sparing with food. Rest, mediate. If we can think of gifts we have that can help then we can discuss it further. << For now? He's going to try meditating on the flickering flames of the fire, then sleep a while. They did just fight a tough battle and then run a while in deep snow.

Frost is largely dry, except for her pant legs and she ain't taking them off. Instead she swings her legs closer to the fire, both warming up and giving them a chance to dry. She gives Alek a soft, grateful look as he tries to spare her feelings, but when she looks back to the fire she's still got that concerned look in her eyes. Signing, "Either way, if I begin to slow everyone down too much, you need to leave me behind. Better one than all of you." She takes Lleu's offered coat and slips it on overtop of everything else, and all things considered looks /less/ miserable than before. Then she looks at Lleu, "I mean it." she signs.

Aleksandr nods to Lleutrim and his assessment, though his lips open as if he might offer a counterpoint, but he just shakes his head to himself and closes it. He has said what he needs to say. He moves to his wolf form and again and moves to cuddle against Frost and share his warmth with her. Near the fire, staring into it. Falling asleep when he is able, and then meditating afterwards by the fire. He will do his best to ensure the fire stays fed and lit, also.

Form begins to contort and stretch, as another emerges. Lights-the-Darkness becomes a silver wolf

The rest of the day passes uneventfully, with only snow swirling in the gusting wind outside of the makeshift shelter. Eventually, even the mighty Eye of the Storm is forced inside by the blizzard, though he remains near the entrance in his lupus form as he warms himself.

By dawn of the second day, outside the shelter is only howling, blinding white winds. The storm continues, unrelenting, into the second night. Luckily, there is plenty of wood available from the broken tree inside the snow shelter, or some of the group would be forced to brave the blizzard to keep the fire going.

By dusk of the second day, there is no sign of the storm abating - the windows continue to howl and shriek while the Garou and Kinfolk shelter inside.

Frost did a lot of sleeping, and making the most of being stuck in a ice cave with a bunch of wolves. Trips outside to the bathroom were fun, but nature happens.

The Galliard will mostly have stayed as a wolf for his senses are keener that way and he'll be warmer. But at times he's slept as much as he could, meditated to regain gnosis, eaten very lightly since they are being inactive anyway so he may save most of his food. When Lleu has been awake, he's done light exercises so he doesn't get stiff and sore, pulled out his chanter to play the pipe and provide a little music, or sing softly. At other times he's taken his turn keeping watch looking outside, or pulled out his journal which has become thin pieces of scraped and bleached hide and a feather quill and ink to write with. That way he could spend some of the time putting down the recent events while they were yet sharp within his mind.

Twilight's Glimmer will try to sleep as much she can, and handle personal business. Being stuck in here is not going to go on the top of her list of things to repeat, ever, but being alive is good too. She will turn over and around, trying to keep warm on each side if she could.

Waziyata spends much of the first day sleeping, meditating, sleeping again, and snuggling up to various members of the group to share the warmth. By the second night, she is awake and ready to get moving, but contents herself with little amusements like staring at Lleu's writing over his shoulder, grooming herself and Ryla, taking her own turns at guard duty, and the like. The Ahroun doesn't handle confinement well, and they get to enjoy a lot of it. But she tries to be good.

An interminable time into the second night, as most of the group lay sleeping, there is a creaking sound outside the shelter, just on the edge of hearing under the continual howl of the storm.

A moment later, the gentlest shudder can be felt in the earth, and the creaking noise comes again. Closer. If the group weren't already so high strung and restless, it may have been easy to miss in the storm.

The wolves each get the sense of danger. Something that makes their hackles raise and brings special attention to every flickering shadow of the dim firelight. Something more than the storm moves outside.

Lights the Darkness stays in wolf form as much as he can, changing only as needed to tend to the fire, to dig in his bag, or otherwise do things as needed. But the wolf is to preserve heat, and to allow Frost any extra heat she needs and can steal. Sleeping and meditating as he can, but sleep is important, it preserves heat, too. Body using less energy also helps. Eating sparingly as he can, maybe saving most of the food for Frost. Any bathroom trips were buried to hide the scent. The rest is spent in silent meditation, mostly, or in considering what is next. If there is a next. Standing watch also, when needed. Whatever is needed to keep everyone alive is the key.

When the sound is heard, he rises instantly, hackles raising. <<Thing broke tree? Maybe back? Maybe home?>> he remembers that. His ears perk up, his nose sniffs, and he waits a moment.

Confinement isn't something Lleu deals with very well, but he can move around the shelter, tell stories, even step outside briefly and pile snow back up when he's back inside to keep most of the wind out. So it's not /too/ bad. Sleeping a lot helps.

The odd noise they hadn't heard before, or perhaps the shudder through the frozen earth, makes Seinneadair Blàr raise his head, ears up, very still and listening. Then he hears it again. He also gets up at once.

A glance to Lights the Darkness, then Lleupine goes to very cautiously stick his nose out for a look and a whiff to see if he can see or smell anything out there. He is very careful not to show himself if something isn't looking directly at the small opening they'll have left.

As Lleupine pokes his nose out of the snow fort to so carefully peek into the howling, black night, he initially sees, smells, and hears nothing at all except howling snow and wind.

After a short time of standing in the opening and waiting, however, it becomes apparent that one of the massive shadows in the blackness is slightly paler than the others, and moves against the wind in slow, laborious movements. Perhaps humanoid in shape, but of gigantic proportion.

Whatever the silvery wolf detects, if he detects anything, Light the Darkness doesn’t say anything. He just peers in the direction of the exit and looks a little pensive and still on guard. As Battle Singer sticks his head out, he watches carefully, moving near Frost, as if to guard her. Put himself in front of her. Waiting.

Waziyata shifts her weight a little, moving gingerly on her belly across the interior of the shelter, easing slowly closer to the entrance tunnel and Lleu, ears up and alert. She does her level best not to make any sound, watching and listening for any danger.

Frost remains where she is, staying still and quiet, watching the wolves with a touch of concern; she is unfortunately oblivious to what's going on outside the shelter.

Seinneadair Blàr stands very, very still sniffing the blowing wind. His gaze does seem to have fixed on some particular point of interest, squinting into the night. His body language tenses slightly, his tail held a little stiffly out from his body. As yet he doesn't attempt to communicate anything while he's got his face stuck in the opening.

Being in this caved out shelter - there is not room for them all to look out. Twilight's Glimmer waits where she is, holding still while waiting to hear what is found. She stretches and gets ready after being there for so long.

Now that the attention of all the group is focused on the sounds outside, it becomes more apparent that something is moving there. Branches snap, the sound muffled and soft through snow and wind. The ground vibrates again, almost gently, and the creaking sound returns.

From his perch at the entrance to the shelter, Battle Singer can see the massive figure take a step, pushing its way through some of the larger shadows of trees.

After a long moment, Seinneadair Blàr pulls his head back in and backs off from the entrance to let Wazi or Eye of the Storm have a look. >> Something larger than a man, bulky. Oriented about two of the clock. Earthy smell, like nothing I ever smelt before. Faint Wyrm taint in the storm itself, can't tell about the thing. It's not Fera, not vampire, not Garou, not spirit, nor Wyrm as far as I can tell. I don't know what it is. Fairly close. << The very soft sounds and body language convey his lupus speech.

Eye of the Storm shifts, and growls lowly, >> Something much larger than us.. larger than the trees moves in this direction. As well as many smaller entities, capable of navigating through this blizzard. We can avoid it, but we have to move quickly. << The wolf implies through barks and chuffed growls. Then he moves to get up, heckles rise and ready to act. Fight or Flight.

At the report from both Battle Singer and Eye of the Storm, Waziyata climbs to her feet, ears raising again. She looks between the two, tense, waiting to act. But she doesn't do anything; she's waiting for orders.

>> If we can't identify it, and there's a lot of them, I agree we'd do better to risk the storm and head southwards. << Battle Singer looks to Frost, >> Let's give you all the clothes we can. Cover your hands and feet with layers. Cover your head and face too. Best we can do while you ride and we'll exfiltrate. << Lleu shifts back to a man briefly to strip off extra clothing he can spare, even if it means he may be down to boots and nothing else. Then he quickly gathers up his few things and puts his pack on his back and kicks out the fire, smothering it with some of the snow before he'll slip back to lupus.

>> We can try sneaking out, change to Hispo and run as long as we can. Make or find another shelter when we can't go any further. << Lleupine looks to the others, especially Dragomir to see if they have any input.

Lights the Darkness rises too. One way or another they have to act. Either in the storm or fight whatever is moving. Dragomir is right about that. He looks back at Frost. << If run, will shift. Get on. Fast. Fast. If need fight. Stay here. >> He then turns back to the rest, trusting Frost to get herself covered at Battle Singer’s words. He doesn’t comment on the plan, only waiting for others to decide, but there’s a sudden irritation about him, unspoken. His bag is already shifted with him, always prepared to be on the move should the need arise. There’s a brief pause, maybe one situation not considered. <<Perhaps stay here? Wait for it to pass?>> All options are risky. And he’s just giving another.

Eye of the Storm concentrates a bit longer and says, >> It may be alone.. it is big, and it is very dark. Hard to tell. It is moving Northbound, but not necessarily towards us. There is a chance we can hide here and it will pass by us. If it is hostile though, we need to be ready to fight and defend ourselves. Running will not be an option. Trying to move before this storm lets up, may be equally if not more deadly. <<

Frost adds any extra clothing to what she's got on already, wrapping up her exposed skin but leaving enough fingers to grab onto Alek when the time comes. She nods her understanding to all, and waits at the ready, putting her backpack on either way.

As snow is kicked over the fire, the shelter goes pitch black. Human eyes don't adapt quickly to such drastic light changes, and poor Frost is rendered blind for the time being.

The wolves have better eyes for the situation, but even they can make out only dim shapes and shadows now - smells and scents are better for navigating the shelter, now.

Outside, the creaking, groaning sound continues and there is another series of loud snaps. The ground trembles again and the wind howls on.

Waziyata crouches slightly, glancing toward the tunnel opening, before chuffing softly. <<Running south bad idea. Too many trees. East? Less trees.>> She doesn't seem eager to get out and run either way, and when Eye of the Storm and Lights the Darkness give the options of waiting and hiding, the lupus gives another chuff. <<Like when helicopters come. Quiet. Hiding. Letting death fly away.>>

Twilight's Glimmer does not have much to give them all in this particular situation and will wait to see what they decide.

Seinneadair Blàr stops and the Galliard looks at Eye of the Storm, >> Wait, you are contradicting what you just told us. << Perplexed, he hesitates, >> I agree I don't wish to risk the storm, especially at night, if we don't have to. Let us at least /make/ ready to go if we must. << In lupus, Lleu eases up if there's room for more than one of them to see or they can make another peep hole and then he waits, straining to see and listen.

The group inside the shelter goes silent and still, hunkering down in the snow as the ground continues to rumble rhythmically. More tree branches snap, more trunks groan ominously. And then another rumbling step lands just outside of the shelter, the silhouette of a gnarled, furred foot the size of a Hispo wolf faintly visible outside of the shelter for those looking.

Snow shakes loose of the shelter, falling in a soft rattle upon those hiding inside. The wind howls, and the thing continues walking.

After an interminable time, the rumbling becomes more distant, then ceases. The visitor has either left or stopped moving. Outside, the blizzard continues.

When it finally fucking dawns without a damn storm, there's a lupus that sticks his nose out to check things out. Seinneadair Blàr then leaps out of the shelter and lands with a soft WHUMP! into the deep snow like a man suddenly freed from prison! A quick look around and he shifts up to Hispo and spends a moment running around like a nutcase, so glad to be out of the hole and FREE! It doesn't matter if the sun is wane, the cold is bitter, for just a moment he celebrates! Perfectly silent, no making much noise. Then he leaps up on /top/ of the snow and dances around without sinking into it! >> Sweet Gaia, thank you! <<

Frost refrains from throwing a snowball at him this time, being all bundled up as she is she wants to keep the warmth it provides. And her fingers. She follows after the trail of wolves as they head out, finally able to stand up and stretch.

Lights the Darkness was prepared to go days ago, always prepared as he rests in wolf, just in case. When they are ready to depart and sure it’s only the normal soul sucking cold to deal with, he emerges to the outside, immediately shifting up to his Hispo form, likely to carry Frost. No doubt, also, for the extra bulk against the cold. <<Should get south.>> Possibly a question based on body language, but it’s unclear. He sinks into the snow, not much, and then looks to Frost. <<Make sure covered. Very well.>> Then he lowers himself for her to get on. <<Think need run again. To less cold.>> he does not seem to be suffering from the closed spaces quite as much. He hates walls, but there is a difference between manmade ones and these, apparently.

During the next two days after the night time encounter, Waziyata goes back to killing time. She's terrible at it, though the story of "Just a Glitch" finally comes out at one point. Apparently, the lupus has been watching movies, and she thinks Dragomir looks just like the corporate goon from Robocop who excuses the death of one of his minions to the super chaingun robot as 'just a glitch'. That revelation comes during her explanation of the movie, in broken fragments skipping from that scene to the beginning, to the end, and then several key moments.

Similar experiences happen throughout the time, but they're better left unsaid. Finally, the fifth day dawns without a storm and the Ahroun is one of the first to trot out into the snow after Battle Singer.

She doesn't repeat his joy of running and jumping and rolling all about, however. She just stretches widely and then turns to snuffle about in the snow, investigating the area.

Frost sighs softly, and as much fun as she had being in the tight little space with the wolves she doesn't seem terribly keen on the weather out here, squinting a little at the brightness of the snow. She pulls a sleeve down from her makeshift shirt-hat, shielding her eyes from the glare before moving over to climb onto Lights' back again, snuggling into his warm fur to get ready to move out.

Twilight's Glimmer has been waiting, patiently, more than others could probably. She listens, she learns, and grins even in lupus at the stories told by Wazi. She has not spent this long in lupus before and it is good for her understanding of this nature.

>> Yes, let's head south. If we need to avoid /really/ thick snow or trees we can veer south east but trees break wind and provide shelter. Better than wide open space. << Seinneadair Blàr starts moving but he turns his head to look to Dragomir, >> Unless you have gift, lets you see the area from above? Might help us decide which direction is best to go. << Aleks is right that they want to move and keep moving in the cold so Lleupine starts trekking southwards to start. He walks or trots in Hispo on top of the snow and leaves no tracks at all.

Spending this much time with Eye of the Storm is probably a burden already, though a few things become obvious about the man over the time. He is militant in many ways, often using his free time to martially train or meditate - reciting the Litany in long-form or generally doing something akin to his Gaian duties. He is also not very social - as though interactions with others require a great deal of effort for him. Left to his own devices, he does not interact with others and will go about the time and the trip keeping to himself.

At one point or another, when the discussion of the previous battle comes up - he explains what he faced off with, and tries to understand what transpired in the tunnel. His suggestion being they should have just worked together to drag the thing out of the tunnel instead of trying to kill it within its domain. He will also act a bit differently with them all, now that they have shared battlefield together - as though surviving that battle makes them more respected in his eyes.

As soon as time allows, he would have sought to cleanse himself - either by ritual from one of the others, or he would have used a Clear Water talen on himself. Not willing to travel all this time tainted with Bane goo.

Waziyata has no useful tricks for dancing on top of the snow or seeing the world from above. But when the decision is made to head south through the forest, she turns and moves with the group, pressing southward through the snow.

The path of the thing that visited in the night is clear in the woods, a long line of broken tree branches and sagging pines, though the snow has hidden any footprints that may have been. It winds away to the south in a meandering fashion, heading south by southwest, deeper into the forest, and away to the northeast, toward the nearby plain of tundra.

After some short deliberation on where to go, the wolves set off along the path of broken trees, angling away toward the southwest.

The pack runs for a long time, moving deeper into the winter wood, further from the heart of the northern Fimbulwinter. At first, it is all the same - endless trees and snow and ice, but after a few hours' time, the trees begin to thin, the forest's heart passed.

Newer, fresher smells and sounds. Small, winter mammals, distant birdsong in the wan morning, and away in the far distance, a thin line of smoke as if from a cookfire.

When they see or smell the smoke in the distance, Seinneadair Blàr slows a little and takes his time to look. >> Fires! Probably a settlement. We should head that way, check it out. << Unless there are objections, Battle Singer will adjust their course. >> So far I haven't lived the life of any of my Ancestors so we need to find them. << No reason to pause or take long to debate. Not until they get closer and sneak up the last little bit to see what's there.

Twilight's Glimmer follows along with the group. Staying alert. When the fires are spotted, she counts the lines and sniffs the air, trying to see if they can smell more than smoke. At least it isn't so silent anymore and there are other mammals about. It is not her call, but she seems in agreement and will be glad to experience more than just a snow shelter. This trip is looking up already!

Lights the Darkness slows almost to a stop the moment he spots the plumes of smoke. <<Remember where giant thing came from. Could be bad. Could be more.>> He’s body shakes a little at the cold. It would be good to get out of it again, and the popsicle that is Frost out of it, too, but he is still warning caution. He, for one, will approach the rest of the way as slowly and quietly as quiet allow. “Do not know if Ancestor send us on near path. Maybe not Ancestors. Lots of dangers.>> Again, more warning, but he is not objecting to the course they are taking. His sense scan the area and spread out, for signs of life, movement, smells, anything to indicate what is around here.

As the pack of wolves moves further through the forest, more of the land seems to come alive. It is still terribly cold and covered in snow, clearly having endured the same blizzard recently, but the distant sounds and scents of harsh winter life blossom forth.

They run another hour before the trees truly begin to thin and grow more sparsely, the wood's far edge finally reached. Still, the monster's trail presses onward, toward the smoke trails.

Distantly, there is the sound of people, before the wolves are close enough to smell them. Gatherings of humans are noisy places, and the sounds of voices and clattering tools, and the lowing of oxen carries far, though it is all still indistinct at this distance. It won't be long now until the wolves will need to take to their cover.

Eye of the Storm pads along with the others, letting Battle Singer take the lead and following his direction. He has never -not- been the leader in a pack before, and yet he seems to adapt to the change well. Low to the ground and predatory on the approach, getting close to get scents and determine the threat.

As they get closer and can start to hear voices, Battle Singer changes to the form of a regular wolf. This /is/ the Legendary Realm but there's no telling what or who they might encounter in it. So as they draw ever nearer, Lleupine starts using more cover and his smaller wolf form for stealth. He's also being careful of traps, for wolves, or other game that he might otherwise walk into. Alek's warning goes more or less unheeded until they are getting pretty close. A glance back to check and see if the others shift to their regular wolf forms as well or not. As for himself? Seinneadair Blàr uses his Camouflage gift and his silence to become very stealthy indeed as he eases up to where he'll be able to see people and keep to some cover while doing so.

Waziyata pads along with the group of wolves, remaining in her breed form for the entire run. When it is time to sneak up on the sounds of the humans, she too moves closer to the ground and begins to prowl slowly, carefully, quietly through the cover of the woods.

As the wolves slink through the woods, they soon come in sight of a large encampment of humans with simple tents and basic lean-to style shelters on the edge of the forest. The land beyond them is cold and barren, dotted with trees and with a mountain range on the eastern horizon.

The humans have pack animals: mules, oxen, a few horses. Many women and children mingle amidst the crude shelters, working to pack supplies into sacks, sleds, and a handful of ox-drawn carts. Men move among them, working, some standing sentry on the peripheries of the crowd, bearing a mismatch of weapons.

Most interesting of all, many of those whom the humans seem to gather or congregate on, or take orders from, bear the look of pure bred Fianna heroes, though there is something slightly off about them.

Seinneadair Blàr crouches down to observe the people going about their business, looking carefully for signs of wolves among them. He can sense that there are Garou and kinfolk among them but no wolves are in sight. They certainly don't look like a bunch of Black Spiral Dancers but just in case, Lleupine pops off Sense Wyrm so not to be stupid. After a moment he turns his head to look at the others as they take up similar positions. >> I see no wolves but they are Garou and ... mostly feel like Fianna. Maybe proto-celts. I have no certainty of how far back we've gone. I want to go out and speak with them. See how they react and if they don't react badly, the rest of you can come out. This is what we came for. << Any objections or warnings ere he does? Battle Singer looks pointedly at Aleks and then Dragomir, then Ryla and Frost.

Eye of the Storm does not seem to object, in fact - he sits, waits - lifts a paw to scratch at the back of his own ear and then lays down and curls his tail in around himself. Maybe he intends to take a nap, he chuffs >> Everything is a lesson.. all symbolic. Learn well Battle Singer. <<

Twilight's Glimmer finds a place to lay down and watch. She will keep out of the way while Battle Singer finds what he has come for here, or at least determines their next step. She remains in lupus for this, keeping small.

Waziyata wags her tail just a bit, but raises no objections. She doesn't move to follow the man down to meet the proto-Fianna encampment, either. Instead she simply steps over and settles down near Twilight's Glimmer to wait.

>> All right then. << Battle Singer shifts up until he's a man and looks to Frost, "I'm going to need some of my clothes back, please." It's a whisper. Lleutrim's about naked except for his boots. So he will take a long moment to get dressed as carefully as he may once Frost hands him back a couple of things to wear. Assuming she doesn't refuse, once he's clothed, Lleu'll get up and heft his pack and start walking out of the woods through the last trees and out to join the encampment. Good way to find out if there are any sentries he just surprised, right? If anyone looks his way he smiles a little and keeps walking, looking for a likely person within sight of his waiting 'pack' so he may attempt to speak to them. They probably aren't speaking English so this may be amusing.

Lights the Darkness shifts down to his lupus and lets Frost off. He hangs back a ways in the trees with her, to make sure she is not spotted. He shrugs a little from his position, crouching down low in the trees. He gives a silent little tilt of his maw to Lleutrim’s question. His quest, one supposes might be Alek’s message, but the wolf says nothing more.

It isn't too long after Lleutrim has exposed himself and started walking down from the forest that several of the men in the encampment have spotted him. One man on sentry duty even shouts and points to Lleu. At least it isn't with the spear he's holding.

Shortly, a group of four are moving to intercept him, each with some variety of weapon - spears, clubs, wood axes. They don't brandish the weapons threateningly, but they're at hand.

The man at the front, a younger lad in rough spun and the barest hint of Fianna pure breeding calls to Lleu: "Whoa there, Stranger of the Troll Woods. What business d'you have with the Men of the Hound?"

Lleutrim stops at once when people can see him and he waits to let them come to him, if they will. And they do! "I request permission to enter your territory. I am Lleutrim Donnachaidh, Rite named Seinneadair Blàr, born on two legs beneath the Gibbous moon, Fostern and a child of Stag. I have traveled a very long way looking for my blood kin." His pale silvery grey eyes study them, "I feel as though perhaps I have finally found some distant kin, perhaps? Who are you, Men of the Hound?"

The men behind the leader shift their weight a little, glancing between themselves uncertainly before looking back to Lleutrim. The one at their head frowns slightly at his introduction, studying him more closely a moment, before moving to tap his spear to his chest.

"Judoc, son of Cunobelinus, Righ of the Hounds of the Horned One." He eyes Lleu another moment then, not yet smiling, and asks, "From which of Stag's tribes do you hail, cousin? You've got a bit of the look of us, though you know us not."

There is no looking over his shoulder back to the others. Lleu stands slightly hipshot, relaxed though alert and ready. Not tense. The spear tapped against his chest gets an eye brow raise and no more other than his quiet reply. "Where I come from, I would call myself Fianna. As said, I have traveled long and far." He glances north, then back to these men, "I made the mistake of traveling a bit too far north. Bitter cold. Also ran into some large creature I'd not seen before, pushing its way through the trees even in a snow storm. Do you know what kind of beast it may have been?" As best he can, Lleu describes it and the earthy smell though he didn't see it very clearly.

Twilight's Glimmer rises up a bit. Her tail fwaps lightly into Wazi, and nuzzles toward Lleu. Her ears are up. Something does not sit right with her. She does not make a sound yet, but a look of concern is in her eyes.

With the contact going well enough, Lights the Darkness moves up with Frost to the edge of the trees and joins the others quietly. Dragomir and Twilight Glimmer. His voice is low as he gruffs. <<Riders to southeast.>> he says to them all, not loud enough for Lleu to hear. <<Weapons. Looks like attack. Sentries have not seen. Think. Large men, large horses. Large weapons.>> He looks to the conversation going on outside the trees, ears perked and then back to the rest. <<Should warn?>> That one seems more for Dragomir.

At that response from Lleutrim, the younger man snorts in response, shaking his head as if in disgust, "Fianna? Ha! Wait and see, Stranger - in time, Stag will show his favor to one of the tribes, and it'll be real men." He doesn't outright say it'll be his own tribe, but the implication is clear.

Then he turns serious at the question and explanation, glancing toward the woods and nodding in response, "Aye. Sounds like a troll. Did you kill it?" From his tone, he doesn't expect an affirmative answer, "It'll be good to be away from these cursed lands, and the Fimbulwinter."

Eye of the Storm seems to have noticed much the same, studying for a moment and then sits up and shifts his head back to let out a howl. The long deep howl of danger coming, indicating danger to the southeast, approaching. >> Prepare yourselves, danger approaches. Riders, seeking War. << He starts to move forward, no time for pleasantries it seems.

Waziyata tilts her head a little at the remarks from Lights the Darkness, ear twisting to orient on him. Then she looks at him, before following the point of his nose toward the southeast. She raises up a little, staring across the plains, before whining faintly. <<See.. Something? Movement. It is men?>> Sounds like she hasn't seen it. She's also careful, not letting the whine carry. But then the point is rendered moot when Eye of the Storm howls his warning. She glances over, then growls softly and follows after the Athro.

Twilight's Glimmer gets up on her paws and will follow as well. Strength in numbers and waits for further instruction. She trusts those with her, especially her ranking Silver Fang.

The Galliard eyes the fellow who mocks his tribe but Lleu doesn't otherwise react to that. "A troll? No, it didn't cause me any trouble so I let it pass by ..." Lleutrim doesn't finish what he was saying. He hears the howl and turns to look back, then looks at the men, "That's one of my party. You have visitors coming. Mounted men?" Garou certainly don't ride /horses/ with the Curse, can they?

Lleu starts to back off, not sure how these men will react to his having companions he had not yet mentioned - and news of approaching riders.

Judoc frowns again at Lleutrim's reply about the troll, "You should have, if you can manage it," he growls, "Damned things carry off sheep and children in the night. I hate being so-" Then Eye of the Storm is howling his warning and the man looks toward the sound, grip tightening on his spear.

A moment later he turns to look to the southeast and brings a hand up to shield his eyes against the glare of the snow. Another moment passes, and then he is running for the encampment with a shout for Lleu: "Ready for a fight, man! Or hide if you haven't got the balls for it - the Ganbaatari don't care which'a the tribes you are!"

At the encampment, women and children are screaming, men are yelling and running for weapons. A few break away from the crowds and move toward the southeast edge of the camp, growing into war forms on their way.

On the horizon, a charging line of bearded, armored men on horseback can distantly be seen, carrying short bows and long spears and heavy, curved swords. There are only a couple dozen of them visible, but they charge across the snow-covered plain as if on an open field, and the hundreds within the camp act with terror and rage as though threatened by a grievous foe.

Silvery White Wolf snarls violently, shifting and growing swiftly in size and shape - taking a horrifying war form

"What's a Ganbaatari?!" Nobody's going to answer him if they are running off. Lleutrim looks the same direction and scowls, "Not very many of them." But he also sees how everyone in the camp is reacting to the riders. He turns and runs back the short distance to rejoin his own party, shifting to Hispo along the way, >> Looks like a fight coming! << There's that sheen that envelopes him as he concentrates, spending gnosis to activate Luna's Armor, first.

If it is War they came for, then it is War they will find. The Silvery White Dire Wolf moves forward and leaps into the air - shifting into his Crinos form and lands heavily on the ground with a snarl into the air and splays his claws. The boar's tusk is activated and he growls out, >> Have Puddle Jumper take point. Trust in your Ahroun to guide our strength in battle! <<

Even as Lights the Darkness shifts from Hispo to Crinos, he looks to Frost. <<Stay high ground. Stay safe. Maybe sentry post.>> he motions to the ones in the village. <<Or here, if safe.>> he looks back the way they came. <<Feel safer with you in village.>> At that, then his knife comes out, the first failure comes and then he is surrounded in a glowing light of the moon briefly. Then he is joining the fray, though falling in behind Wazi, since that has been the command. He might not always agree with Dragomir, but in times of war, he very much knows where his place is. And there is no challenge.

Waziyata charges out of the brush with the other wolves, racing down to meet Lleutrim and surging up to her own War Form, after a little hesitation in breed form. She pauses at Dragomir's words, glancing at the man, then looking to Lleu for approval.

She stands ready with her longbow in hand, attention shifting away from the two men toward the charging horses. <<They bring bows. Faster than wolves. Need kill them far away, if can.>> She makes it a suggestion for the moment, since she hasn't yet been given confirmation of Drago's 'suggestion' to Lleutrim.

Twilight's Glimmer chuffs to Battle Singer a suggestion, >> I can help protect the women and children in the camp. Protect the Kinfolk. << She knows she is no match yet for the charging forces. >> Will do what you say. <<

The Galliard hears Eye of the Storm and looks at once to Wazi. Seinneadair Blàr comes up to stand with her as they watch the approaching horsemen, >> Aye, lead us. I have no means to attack from a distance, yet. I can only fight up close without a firearm. << A glance to Frost at that who now carries some kind of bow instead of her rifle. >> I have one Flames of Ra talen but I know not it's range so I best save it. Show us the way, Waziyata. << Battle Singer gives her a wolfish grin with teeth.

A nod to Ryla, >> Good thinking, Twilight's Glimmer. You and Frost both. << Adds Lleu.

Eye of the Storm summons the light of Luna to shield him. When Battle Singer gives blessing, he lifts a clawed finger to point towards Wazi and growls, >> Not Weak. Pack. << The Crinos stands ready for direction, ready to charge in whatever direction they will send him.

Eye of the Storm snarls, while he waits for orders. Watching as the riders close in, he reaches down and picks up one of the bench logs like it was a spear, and whips it through the air towards one of the approaching horsemen. >> Come. Fight me! << he taunts brutally of those charging to draw attention to himself.

He stands defiant of the attack as they come in, snarling and waiting to be unleashed.

Twilight's Glimmer keeps an eye on Frost while going around and checking on the humans here. She stays as a lupus, since she is too squishy as a homid. For those that can understand her she tries to give calming words. Above all though, she keeps senses on the battle, and if anything is getting away toward the camp.

Lights the Darkness just stands there in the middle of the village staring down the charging riders. He doesn’t charge, despite the knife in hand. Eyes flare on the one that charges his huge Crinos form though. His lips curl into a snarl and he raises his hand even though it isn’t necessary. Suddenly a burst of flame, the size of a giant fire ball simply appears and slams into the horse. Horses do not like fire, especially hitting them. Singed hair and a burnt force cause the horse to buck wildly and throw the rider violently from him, as it bucks again and then charges off away in its terror. The Silver Fang Theurge looses death then down upon its rider. No words, he rarely has any, even in war.

Seinneadair Blàr charges out to try and meet the riders before they can get too many shots off with those bows! For all he knows they might be silver tipped arrows. Snarling, the huge Fianna dire wolf goes first for the horse and leaps up, going for its flank! His powerful jaws close in on the stifle and rip open it's lower abdominal cavity, tripping up that bag leg's function and down it goes - without it going down on top of himself as it might have if he'd gone for the head or neck. A lot of blood and as soon as the horse goes down, Lleupine gets clear of it before he's struck by any of the hooves.

In the next instant he's leaping for the rider that's fallen! Thick fur bristling, silvery eyes bright with ears back and fangs bared, Seinneadair Blàr tries to go for the man's face or neck but gets a mouth full of armored shoulder instead! It seems he does the Ganbataari no real harm, yet.

Puddle Jumper looses an arrow at the horse that Battle Singer charges, the arrow sinking deep into the animal's flesh. And then the Galliard and Lights the Darkness are charging out to meet the enemy charge. Her ears lay back, and a moment later she is charging after them - arriving just in time to lean in and bite down hard on one of the men after he rolls to the ground beside his dying horse. She shakes vigorously, then straightens and turns to look over the others, ignoring the arrow that snaps against her flank.

<<Close distance! Horses first to die.>> A hesitation then as she glances toward the riders before adding: <<Not too far. Do not be drawn far into plain!>>

The riders charge their massive mounts in, the first several of them to come near to the pack loosing arrows from short, curved bows; firing on the werewolves without much success. One horse dies, throwing its rider to join it in death in the jaws of the war forms. Another horse, spooked by Aleksandr's flame, squeals loudly and throws its rider, turning and bucking wildly across the snow and away, its face and snout burned despite the crude armor it wears.

The three remaining riders wheel their horses after firing the shots, beginning to gallop back and away even as they twist to line up a new volley, leaving their fallen comrades behind.

On the ground, the lone survivor lays in the snow in a daze, fumbling for the axe on his belt.

Eye of the Storm watches the disarray of the poorly structured attack. He stands, glaring around. As another shot is fired at him, and bounces off his Luna's shield he turns his head and snarls. >> You are not worthy to share battlefield with me. Flee before you annoy me. << He snarls viciously at the sight.

Puddle Jumper looses another arrow at one of the horse archers as the three wheel away, but though her shaft strikes true, it breaks against the horse's armor rather than harming the beast. She lowers her bow, watching as the riders charge away across the snow.

Then her attention is caught by the man that Lleutrim and Aleksandr fight, ears laying back as she sees the axe strike true against Battle Singer when the Galliard tries to attack.

Another arrow breaks against her own armored hide and the Ahroun shakes her head slightly, glancing to Eye of the Storm at his announcement. <<Too much fear smell. Why for this?>>

Going after the man who's unhorsed but pulls an axe, Battle Singer tries biting the fellow and instead gets an axe in his /face/! The parry cuts him and surprises the Galliard yet it is only a slice that's not bad. Still, it makes him snarl with renewed vigor and glance around to see how the Men of Hound fare?! This hardly seems a fight to rouse the village to such upset!

Blazing speed allows the silver furred Crinos to close the gap in an instant on the giant man as he rises, axe in hand. He tries to defend with it, but the large jaw of Lights the darkness cleaves right past it, tearing through flesh at the neck and arm, removing a huge piece of the man. He growls deeply. He has no intention of chasing down his friends either. He’s defending the village. But those teeth, that growl indicate this man’s life is at an end. Actions are what speak for him.

Along the line of defenders for the camp, many of the men do not seem to be true warriors, though they fight fiercely enough. A few more horsemen have been felled, their horses slain or bucking madly across the snowy plain after the retreating group of horse archers.

Out of the two dozen or so that attacked, nineteen ride away, leaving a dozen dying or wounded in the wake of their passing. Some of the Garou of the Hounds howl challenges of their own after the archers, but none of them charge out into the snow after the retreating party. Only one of the Garou seems to have been injured, standing in war form with an arrow shaft buried in one arm.

Except for a few stragglers like the two injured men before Battle Singer's pack, it seems the "battle" is over as quickly as it began.

Twilight's Glimmer keeps her vigil there in the camp, checking on the small children, running back to Frost to check on her, and then seeing how the battle is going. There is part of her that very much wants join the battle, but she hears the crying and how terrified the people in the camp are. There is much much more going on here. Why are they reacting like this? She will keep checking on them and trying to find out what she can while protecting.

Eye of the Storm studies the scene, considering the situation and growls lowly, >> This is not a battle.. skirmishers.. they are terrorizing survivors. There is no defense here.. so they did not bother sending a greater force. << The Silver Fang snarls at that, shifting his gaze towards the ones running. >> The next time, they will send a greater force. <<

The Warrior starts to walk down from the cliff's edge where he stood, turning his head back towards the Troll Woods, then towards the 'warriors' that defend this place. Finally his eyes go to Battle Singer and he growls lowly once more.

After taking a careful look around, Seinneadair Blàr stalks the last man still struggling. Though there could be value in healing and questioning him, there's also a lot to be learned from the people here about what's going on. The Galliard makes quick word and humanly finishes off the badly wounded man and doesn't linger over it.

Pacing back, his jaws bloody both from the wound he took and the wounds he gave, Lleupine growls, >> Then we shall find out what has been happening, and whether we can rally and help these people to make ready. One of them did say 'cursed troll wood' as if this were not their home, but a hated place. I should like to know where they came from and who these Ganbataari are... <<

So said, Battle Singer heads for the camp.

Puddle Jumper's ears remain flattened back against her head as she alternately watches the archers ride away and keeps an eye on the surviving axe man fighting Battle Singer and Lights the Darkness. She tenses, as if readying to rush over to assist, but then that fight is over and she nods slightly.

A glance is spared for the man laying in the snow nearby, bleeding freely, his dagger clutched tightly in hand. The Ahroun sighs and then steps over and almost gently sinks her claws into the man's neck, ending his suffering. She watches silently as the grim work is done before turning and putting away her bow. She drops to all fours and pads over to rejoin the others.

<<Yes,>> she agrees with the others' words, <<The Hounds are desperate, I am thinking. Needing help against these horse people.>>