2018.11.24 Sadism Stick in the Woods

Sadism Stick
A temporary pack of Garou go on a patrol to the outskirts of Prospect City, and discover a young pack of Black Spiral Dancers tormenting captive humans.
IC Date	Saturday, November 24th, 2018
Players	Two Souls, Shieldbrother, Howl in the Dark, and Waziyata (ST)
Spheres	Shifter Gaian Garou

Today, Waziyata is a little late in showing up to the usual gathering spot for patrols. She emerges from the brush and shakes herself off, ears perking as she looks to see who else is assembled. Most of the packs and groups have already departed for their patrols, but there might be a few faces left for the wolf to accompany. Her tail wags slowly even as she chuffs, >>I am here now.<<

Hjalmar looks up to the arrivasl and nods with a big smile. "Good. That means we can almost start. Just waiting to see who else will show up." He looks around for more. "Had a good Thanksgiving?"

Arriving right about the same time as Wazi, Micah is strolling down the path, sticking to 'known' territory for the time being. He's still familiarizing himself with the territory of the bawn and aside from being one of the responsibilities of all sept members, going out on patrols is one of the best ways for him to learn the area and its boundaries. The Navajo shows up just in time to hear Hjalmar's question about Thanksgiving, the inquiry causing a noticeable shadow to cross over his features. He looks as if he's pondering how he should respond, but apparently decides against all of the options he was weighing as he remains silent for the moment, crossing his arms over his chest as he nods sort of curtly to both Wazi and the Fianna.

Waziyata's ears perk up as she looks to the arriving Micah. The question about Thanksgiving has the wolf licking her lips and teeth, then giving a wolfish grin, tongue lolling as her tail wags slowly. <<Many turkey and ham. Gravy. Did not know this thing. It was much good food from Jordan.>> She probably doesn't know the political ramifications of Turkey Day, and doesn't offer any context or explanation for her answer. Instead, she turns and minces a few steps away from the two, back toward the forest brush, her body language speaking of eagerness to be moving.

Patrols? Really? If anything, Drey looks like the sort that the rest should be patrolling /for/. But the young garou showed up. Duty, and all that. Not that she has to be happy about it. The girl's hair is drawn back in a single plaited braid, tungsten piercings glinting a bit in the moonlight, and the standard dark lipstick and eyeliner finishing off the impression She is dressed in black cargoes, faux-leather boots, and an black leather jacket that is currently draped over her small frame, pulled a little taut as she crosses her arms.

Though Micah gives a bit of a side-eye glance toward Hjalmar that lingers some, he doesn't press the Thanksgiving thing, the dour expression on his face fading a little with what might be resignation. He purses his lips, sets his jaw just a little, and then turns to address both Drey and Rhea with a much more amiable expression, the formerly tight line of his mouth turning upwards in an approachable smile. "Micah Winding River, Songkeeper for the Uktena, Cliath. Rite Name Howl-In-the-Dark." He nods in greeting then to one, and then the other, before looking to address the group as a whole. "This probably will become fairly apparent soon enough, but this will be my first patrol with this Sept, so... I'm not really familiar with the routes yet." May as well get that out in the open rather than taking a wrong turn and getting lost along the way.

Hjalmar turns to the new arrival and smiles. "Ah, another one. Good! Welcome." He nods and speaks with a deep warm voice that some would consider enchanting.. And it carries an accent. He gives a warm smile as well. He then looks to Wazi next and grins. <<Sounds like good food!>> And yet another arrival! "Ah! Welcome to you as well! Giving a nod to both new Garou. "I am Hjalmar Hamerslag." The way he pronounces his name, indicating his Western European roots. "Rited ShieldBrother. Born under the half moon of the Philodox. Fostern of the Fianna." After introducing himself, he gives another nod. "A pleasure to meet you Micah, Howl-In-The-Dark. And you..." A smile to Micah and then the woman, then a grin to Wazi as she already starts to move. He turns to the two new one's, waiting for any introduction if she's willing want to give one. "Alright. Let us change into Lupus. Alright?"

Drey's bronze eyes flicker over the gathered group, expression betraying little in the dimness. The prolonged introductions have her drawing a quiet breath inward -- not /quite/ a sigh -- and then responding, "Drey Cortez, Rited Two-Souls, Clith, Child of Gaia."

Waziyata turns a small circle in place, clearly impatient, shifting her weight again as she prowls along the edges of the group. Micah gets a wag of her tail, Drey gets a curious look and brief inspection, though the wolf doesn't move within arm's reach of the woman. Then she slinks back around toward the front of the group as Hjalmar is giving instruction for everyone to shift to lupus. Her tail wags again, high and alert, eager. But she does spare a moment to look back at the others and chuff: <<Am Puddle Jumper. Ahroun. Cliath. Child of Gaia. We follow Shieldbrother. Kill Wyrm if it is seen. Luna is big today. Be full of milk.>> Then, she's moving into position to follow along after Hjalmar, whenever the man says to move out.

Hjalmar nods to Dre. "A pleasure to meet you as well Dre, Two-Souls." Giving another warm smile before closing his eyes... He focusses himself into the shift... And afterwards, he opens his eyes again, blue eyes peering out of his skull. <<We shift. We go.>>

Acknowledging the introductions and welcomes of the others, Micah then gives Hjalmar a nod at the suggestion of changing into lupus form. "Makes sense..." he answers, his tone carefully guarded. He rolls his neck a little then, as if loosening up before a sports game or similar, and proceeds to change into his lupus form, a medium-sized red wolf that showcases some of the Uktena pure blood that runs through the Navajo's veins. The wolf's dark nostrils flare after the change, drinking in the assault of scents that are so much more prevalent in the form, his tail swishing back and forth behind him against his will. <<Still getting used to forests around here. Nothing like the deserts of Arizona, that's for sure...>>

Drey spares a glance toward the various shifters before giving herself over to the transformation itself. Not unlike her human form, the young hispanic is lost to fur as black as her hair has been with only a small patch of white at the chest. There's a huff at Micha's comment about Arizona, then the first non-grudging comment from the Cliath, <<Try New York City sometime...>>

Waziyata again shifts her weight and paces along the edges of the group, waiting impatiently as the homids talk and shapeshift and talk some more. The lupus gives a quiet groaning sound, before turning and looking over the other three once more as Hjalmar falls down to all fours with Micah. She wags her tail then at the Fostern's words, turning and slipping into the brush with a grumpy reply to the conversation: <<Stupid places for living. Cities. Deserts. Oceans.>> Then, she goes quiet, following after Shieldbrother as that wolf takes the lead.

The four wolves are soon running through the woods, travelling north, away from the Caern and closer to the city. It's a long run, slipping through trees and brush alike, past little streams and cabins and houses that become more frequent the further the group runs, though not quite becoming common - there's a lot of ground to cover between the Caern and the city, most of it forest that's been mildly tamed, at best. As they run, an array of smells and sounds come to the makeshift pack; prey, humans, machines, decaying plants, dead things, nothing unusual for this time of year. Until, eventually, an unusual smell comes on the breeze: blood, terror, pain.

Hjalmar leads them onwards. And after a while.. That smell comes up. That all known combination of smells indicating something is utterly at miss. All other smells are pushed to the background as he focusses on this new combination now. <<Smells bad. Need to check. Need to help if needed.>> He will try to pinpoint a more precise location, smelling and doing what a wolf does to find a more clear trail.

<<New York City??>> Micah whuffles in response to Drey, the incredulous tone of his voice even in Lupus form very akin to the old Pace picante commercial. <<Thought only Glass Walkers and Bone Gnawers lived there...>> He pauses then, calling back to Wazi as the Ahroun starts to take the lead, >>I *lived* in a house, our *Caern* was in the desert...<< The red wolf shakes his head once, before he's loping forward to follow the others on patrol, all four limbs moving in harmony with one another as his wiry frame hurtles over the earth. He keeps his head fairly close to the ground, eyes narrowed and focused forward, tail dropped back and parallel to the ground as the wind waves across his reddish-brown fur. And then, as the disturbing collection of scents is borne on the wind - his ears perk forward, his nostrils flare again, and a low growl rumbles at the back of this throat as he too tries to pinpoint the source of it.

Puddle Jumper's ears lay back at the smell, growling softly and raising her head up to sniff. Her tail and ears raise up alertly, and then she slows from her run, beginning to search about carefully for the source of the smell. Soon, she's got it, and is turning to move a little more towards the east, sniffing at the ground as she moves slowly along, slinking slowly and quietly, carefully. <<Humans.>>

The others soon pick up on the scent Wazi's caught; a strong stench of humans, strong enough to scare away most animals. Unnaturally strong. It undercuts the smells of pain and terror. As the garou pay more attention to the odor, other emotions begin to mix in, subtler and less overpowering: lust, amusement, anger. The smells paint a picture of someone suffering, and someone else enjoying it greatly. As the wolves move slowly closer, the scents resolve further: Multiple people. Turned earth smells. Someone has dug a pit into the earth, without the usual accompanying smells of gasoline and machinery. Distantly, there is a muffled smack, a shriek, and multiple harsh voices laughing.

Hjalmar snarls and comes closer, staying low to the ground in order to sneak up on these.. People... The smell is off a bit. And he quickens his pace a little as soon as the shriek is heard. Seems like time might be short on this one.... He will not let harm come to any innocents under his watch. Not as far as he's considered. He tries to get a good view on what happens... Maybe even set up for an attack... The smells are bad.. They do not prelude anything good!

Head tilting to one side, Micah catches the scent of the group of humans shortly after Wazi, his dark eyes narrowing and his black lips curling back from his mouth to briefly display his sharp, glistening teeth. The growl in his throat is kept low and quiet, however, and as the emotions and deeper layerings to the scent begin to paint a clearer picture, he expands on the wolf-born's comment. <<Bad ones.>> He, too, lowers himself to the ground, doing his best to keep a low profile within the underbrush with the attempt to get close enough to see what's going on before just barging on in. Keeping his eyes darting between the others, making sure he knows whey they are all at, and that they're all on the same page as to how they're proceeding. And then there's the shriek. Micah's head swivels from one pack member to the next, his body language and eyes speaking volumes even though he doesn't make sound. Are we going in?

Blood, terror, and pain. Ahhh, the smells of home. Speaking of which, Micah's surprise earns a wolf-version of a snort from the female, nostrils flaring and one black ear quirking. Then, seeming to lose the hesitance that kept her away from the others in Homid form, Drey is starting toward with the others, keeping low to the ground. Just another shadow, staying slightly behind the others.

At first, Puddle Jumper is moving with deliberate ease and confidence as she slinks forward through the brush, slinking closer to the sounds of laughter and the smells of humans, pain, terror and pleasure. Then, at the final moment as she's drawing very near to the sounds, the wolf puts her weight on a log, pushing up against it to move over it with the quiet ease with which she has surmounted many similar logs. But this one gives out under her weight and the Ahroun smashes through the underbrush, tumbling with an explosion of noise into the woods ahead. Immediately, the lupus snarls and her form begins to swell as if she were about to frenzy... But then she just remains tense and still, half-sprawled on the forest floor.

The harsh laughter continues unabated, until the lupus crashes through the woods nearby. At once, the laughter silences, though the shriek comes again - a high-pitched sound of pain and terror. Softer, quieter, is a male voice sobbing.

Then, one of the harsh voices speaks, "Fuck. Someone's out there. Get ready." The garou are close enough now to vaguely see forms moving through the woods, ducking behind trees or bushes as the humans ahead go quiet. All is still for a long heartbeat and then, a young male voice calls out, "Hello?"

Ahead of the wolves, including the now exposed Puddle Jumper, stands a teenage boy dressed in plain clothes; jeans, plaid shirt, a cowboy hat. He stands exposed before a pit dug into the earth, hand resting on the hilt of a large knife worn at his belt. He is the one who spoke: "Hello?"

Standing very obviously 'behind' a tree nearby is another teenager, so skinny as to seem almost dangerously underweight, with almost no muscle to his frail frame. He is scowling openly at Shieldbrother in the brush, visible to all except Drey. Meanwhile, crouched behind another nearby tree is a third teenager, also with a knife on his belt, hand resting on its hilt. He is obvious to everyone but Wazi.

For her part, Puddle Jumper climbs to her feet and growls, staring toward the humans. Then she chuffs softly, glancing to the other wolves. <<One is coming closer.>> Then she turns away from the three obvious humans to look toward something unseen in the brush nearby, hackles raising, lips pulling back from her teeth.

ShieldBrother dips his head in acknowledgement to Wazi, not taking his eyes off of the guy looking at him... Though his attention is more to the one in the shallow pit. <<You all, take these. I go pit. No harm to innocents.>> And with that, he would move like fucking lightning!

It's times like this that Micah wishes he could throw his voice while in lupus form. Clearly, the group of humans are up to no good, but there's definitely a part of the Uktena that would like to ask them what they're doing before just charging in and then trying to figure things out later. The possibility may be very slim, but there *could* be a good reason they're out here digging a hole in the ground, hiding behind trees and with the scent of blood and terror and... He sighs inwardly. Well, maybe there's not a good reason. He whuffs lightly to Puddle Jumper as well, though when ShieldBrother issues the following command, the red wolf can't help but answer in a questioning growl, <<How the hell do we know which ones are innocent??>> But there's no time to dwell on it - they'll just have to figure that out on the fly. And, though surely not as fast nor as certain, Howl-In-The-Dark leaps forward as well, ready to engage and first targetting the teen that's crouched behind the nearby tree.

Drey remains a part of the shadows as she assesses the rest of the pack, her attention flickering between the other wolves and the humans that she can see. She allows the others to take the lead, waiting and watching. Waiting to be needed. /If/ she's needed...

Hjalmar sees that there is no time to wait. He needs to act quickly before the person in the pit will get hurt. And as he charges.. Well.. It becomes clear why the smell was so.. Off.. Their targets start shifting and pulling weapons. Hjalmar quickes his pace and attacks his first one after making a quick shift himself as well, clawing at his cowboy hatted target and ripping him open. The fucker goes to defend himself and another tries to stab him! Better luck next time asshole! Hjalmar finishes off the one with the hat and turns to attack the other one as well. But seemingly his aim is off, as his next attack goes wide.

For her part, Puddle Jumper has had her eye on the man slinking through the bushes so quietly and carefully, even if the other Garou didn't seem to notice him. She growls, low in her throat, tensing for action... Then Shieldbrother gives the order and lunges, so the Ahroun throws herself into the brush, bolting away from her packmates of the day, bursting up into Hispo form as she charges.. And a massive crinos with antlers surges from the bushes to swing a claw at her!

The lupus snarls, halting just short of running forward and impaling herself on the enemy's claws, turning slightly to catch the blow harmlessly on her shoulder. Then, she lunges in and bites deep into the other garou. The horned one falls down, almost murdered with that one swift bite, before it gurgles and thrashes in place, then leaps back to its feet with a howl of rage to attack the Ahroun again. Puddle Jumper shifts her weight, bracing against the latest hit, then snarls <<STAY DOWN!>> and lunges in to repeat the process, shoving her snout deep into the hole in the Crinos's throat and grabbing onto the spine within. Then she gives her head one hard toss and the other garou's head comes off. The body collapses to the ground, dead, and still in Crinos. A metis.

For their part, the teenagers exchange looks and then two of them draw their daggers as all four burst into Crinos form. The now-Crinos in a cowboy hat snarls as Shieldbrother charges up close, swinging his dagger at the man <<Father Wyrm take your hide!>> At last, the mystery of who these strange garou are has been answered. But, he's no match for the Philodox, quickly falling back into a defensive stance and moving to parry the massive Shieldbrother's claws with his knife. Despite his obvious, apparent skill, he's no match for the Gaian and quickly goes down. He thrashes upon the earth, as if preparing to leap back to his feet, then is left as merely a bleeding homid on the ground.

The other boy with a knife lunges from behind a tree at Hjalmar, surging up to his own Crinos form with a scream of rage. He strikes clumsily with the knife and grunts in surprise as the blade merely grazes along Hjalmar's tough hide, not penetrating deeply enough to even draw blood. He makes a frightened croaking noise as two of his packmates fall just like that, and then he finds himself barely missed by Shieldbrother's massive claw in turn.

The final member of the pack, the skinny dude 'hiding' behind the tree, surges up into Crinos form and laughs as the two wolves lunge for him. He doesn't bother trying to dodge or block their attacks, instead taking a step forward, amidst them, swatting this way and that with his claws. He's still shrimpy, even in Crinos form, but it gave him -some- muscle. Unfortunately, he doesn't land any decisive blows against the lupus and hispo harrying him, even if they can't seem to get through his thick hide, either. Then, he snarls at abruptly finding himself almost alone against three werewolves, as Puddle Jumper charges toward him, covered in his packmate's blood. He throws his head back and howls for all he's worth, howling pain and loss and Rage, then shakes his head forcefully and drops into a defensive stance. He backs slowly away from the werewolves, even as they snap and claw at him again. And when he has an opening, he throws himself bodily away from the Gaians and onto all fours, turning and charging into the forest, a Crinos fleeing for its life. His friend with the knife will have to fend for himself, at this rate.

Drey shifts to Hispo as soon as the others transform to Crinos, starting after Micah to second the other Garou's assault. The first bite doesn't land, but neither does the enemy's retort, as she dodges quickly backward. There's another fruitless snarl and snap, and then the tag-teamed -- however ineffectively -- enemy is turning to run.

With a deep and glutteral snarl in the back of his throat, Howl-in-the-Dark leaps in time with the rest of the Garou - or, at least, he attempts to. He's not quite as quick as the others, but what he lacks in martial skill, he attempts to make up for with enthusiasm. Remaining in Lupus form, he opens his mouth wide, that snarl turning into a full-fledged howl of aggression - a challenge to those that they are about to engage with, as much as it's a rallying cry to his three comrades. But the enemy is also charging forward - and, like Micah and the others, the enemy can also change forms. They're already shifting and transformign into Crinos battle forms, and the one that Howl-in-the-Dark is rushing towards seems intent on attacking Howl first! Twisting nimbly to one side, the reddish-brown wolf avoids the attack, landing on all fours to whip around and launch himself again at the enemy, this time from the side. Briefly, Howl lands on the back of the evil werewolf, teeth gnashing into the creature's shoulder, though he's rewarded with only a mouthful of fur before he's shaken off back to the ground again. Drey is moving in to help him, but it seems like she's having the same poor luck that he is. The others - namely ShieldBrother and Puddle Jumper - seem to be having much more success, though Howl-in-the-Dark isn't ready to give up. He turns his head briefly to Drey, hoping to continue their team-up against the guy that's trying to run away. <<You come in from the left, I'll come in from the right, and we'll flank him. He can't outrun both of us!>> True or not, he infuses all of the confidence and motivation that his auspice blesses him with into the growl, before he moves to give chase.

Giving chase to the fleeing Black Spiral Dancer is much easier said than done, Howl-in-the-Dark discovers, even after he changes to the much stronger Hispo form. While Puddle Jumper also joins in pursuit, Micah is soon lagging behind as the werewolves all run at full speed through the forest. Briefly, he and Drey keep pace while the Dancer and Puddle Jumper surge ahead - but the Uktena is not about to let the debased werewolf escape. His paws slamming and slapping against the earth, he outstrips Drey as he fuels his speed with rage, the trees whipping past him and the wind cutting through his fur at the speed he's going. The chase is intense, and Micah has no idea where he is in relation to anything else within the Bawn or the city right now - just the two figures of the enemy and Puddle Jumper ahead of him - so close, but so far away. Is he gaining? Is he lagging? It's becoming difficult to tell. But then Puddle Jumper makes a desperate lunge to tackle the fleeing villain, and even as her attack sends her to the ground, it stops the forward motion of the Dancer. As the Gaian and Wyrm-ridden face off ahead of him, Howl-in-the-Dark is able to close the gap, leaping to bite at the Dancer's neck - teeth sinking in deep to finish him off! Or... does he? The incapacitation only lasts a moment, before the Dancer lurches back into consciousness, blood and spittle and fury escaping its howling mouth. Howl-in-the-Dark scarcely has time to react - but thankfully, Puddle Jumper is not caught so flat footed. The Uktena can only watch as the Ahroun trades final blows with the Black Spiral Dancer, nearly rending the villain clean in two to dispatch it once and for all. >>Impressive...<< he whuffs, shaking his body to 'clean' off the blood and spit and the grime from the fight. This time, thankfully, he wasn't hurt - but it looks as if Puddle Jumper may be a little worse for the wear. <<Are you okay? I saw the fall you took...>> And then, as if suddenly remember, he looks around, back the way they all came. <<The others...!>>

Puddle Jumper snarls, a big, booming sound of rage as she barrels after the fleeing Crinos. She bounds through the trees, easily catching up to the other garou, who is clearly not used to running on all fours, though he's fast enough to leave the others in his wake. She snaps at his heels, popping her nose against his flank and growling as her Gift fails to send him tumbling. Even as he pulls just ahead, she charges forward again, staying right on top of him and snapping again at his heels, distracting him. Finally, she charges and turns slightly to drive her massive shoulder into his side in a tackle, gigantic body slamming into other gigantic body. Although she hits him hard enough to wind and daze him, drawing him to a complete stop, she is the one that tumbles head-over-heels and falls into the dirt with a yelp of pain.

When Wazi tumbles to the ground, the Skinny Crinos turns on her, snarling <<FUCKING BITCH!>> and slamming his claw into her side. He roars in frustration as the claws don't sink too deeply into her hide, though they finally draw blood from the Ahroun. Then, Howls in the Darkness is upon him from behind, the other hispo tearing at his flesh. He staggers and almost falls, then, badly hurt, beaten. Then the light of Rage fills his eyes and he straightens up, the bite forcing itself shut and some of the bruising on his form healing as he turns and begins to swing wildly with abandon, slamming both claws about, biting at the two Gaians, howling his rage as he frenzies upon them. It's only a matter of time until the Ahroun and the Galliard take him down together, and then the sudden, late-afternoon silence echoes through the forest.

Meanwhile, back in the clearing, the Crinos with a knife tries to run away from Shieldbrother. He's clumsy, slow, and doesn't even think to drop to all fours - instead sprinting on two legs like he thinks he's in homid form. He only makes it a few feet before Hjalmar catches up and surpasses him, squaring off in front of him. >>I'm sorry?<< The crinos offers, insincerely, before the Philodox is swinging claws. Although the crinos is ungainly at best, he manages to backstep and lunge out of the way of his foe's claws, initially. Then, a chance blow catches him and he crumples, blood flying from his new wound. He howls in Rage and drops his dagger as he falls to all fours and lunges at Hjalmar as if he'd lived his entire life as a wolf, snapping and biting wildly at the Philodox to no avail. A moment later, Hjalmar has him laid out on the ground, another human teenager bleeding out from massive wounds.

ShieldBrother tried to attack again with his claws, but the asshole runs! He misses with a hairsbreadth and gives chase @as well. He catches up with his prey and the prey sees the futility in trying to run away and turns. The Crinos that is ShieldBrother though, uses his momentum in order to land a heavy blow, gutting his target and letting his steamy entrails leak out of his abdominal cavity, and down to the ground. His target though... Remains standing! But his next attack sees an end to that. He gives a snarly grin as the runner sinks to the ground and prepares to finish him off for good. Just as he would do to the cowboyish one back at the pit. He howls to the others in order to make them able to retrace their steps. He then takes a look in the pit.. In the hope of finding and helping the one he heard shrieking.

How a black-furred Hispo, Drey is falling behind the others as they give chase. Falling behind, but not giving up. Even as the battle begins to play out in front of her -- the patrol now outnumbering the enemy -- the Garou continues to give chase. She slows only at the last opponent is taken down by Micah and Wazi, her pace slowly as she makes her way toward Micah and Wazi.

At Howl in the Dark's question, Puddle Jumper gives a toss of her head. She's wounded now, a claw wound bleeding on her shoulder, banged up from her fall, but she moves to sit down beside the fallen, skinny crinos. A metis. At the concern about the others, she chuffs <<Go! I will guard the Veil here. Howl for me, if needed.>> Then she stubbornly stays where she is for the time being. It's just in time for Hjalmar's howl of victory and recall to happen, too.

When Hjalmar moves to the earthen pit, he finds it to be dug about eight feet deep into the ground, just a few feet in length. A long, thin thing with two people inside it. Now that the sounds of battle and roaring monsters have faded, two voices can be heard sobbing within. A high-pitched, quiet little wretched mewling sound, and a deep-voiced sobbing.

Just as Hjalmar stops before the pit and looks within, he sees the source of the sounds: A middle-aged man is crouched in the pit, his clothes ragged and streaked with blood, hair mussed, face streaked with tears and mud. His hands are the ugliest part of him, straked in blood with flesh under his fingernails. Cowering on the opposite side of the hole from him is a young girl, little older than a toddler, bleeding from ragged scratches in her face, battered and bruised. She is the source of the mewling sounds. As Hjalmar looks in, the man gives a low, guttarl groan and then lunges up from his crouch to kick the girl full force. She shrieks again, curling and trying to defend herself from further blows as the man's attack continues.

At seeing the sight, Hjalmar's eyes go wide. The next second, he jumps inside the pit. Between the man and the girl. "Stop!" He yells in a deep commanding voice. His hand moving to his axe in case of need. Fear can do strange things to people... Make people do... Crazy things.

When Hjalmar leaps into the pit, the man staggers back and the little girl shrieks again, sobbing hysterically as she remains curled in a ball against the earthen walls of the pit, shuddering and rocking. For his part, the man screams out an inhuman sound, giving his own pained shriek now before he swings his fist at Hjalmar. It isn't a coordinated, intentional blow, more like a wounded animal lashing out at anything it can reach. But it's with his full strength and intent to harm.

The punch lands, socking Hjalmar square in the jaw and the man's screaming stops for just a moment, long enough for him to suck in a breath, then he is howling his head off again and lunging in to swing at Hjalmar once more. Hjalmar fights back, taking a couple more hits and returning each one with solid blows to the face and stomach against the filthy, howling man. The wild man goes down hard, fighting viciously every step of the way, leaning brokenly against Hjalmar in the final moments. He sobs, gasping for air and moaning in pain, no longer able to howl and shriek, but even still he claws with his fingernails and leans in to try and sink his teeth into Hjalmar's neck. Then, a final punch from the Philodox lays him out cold on the floor of the pit. Even unconscious, the man moans and twitches fitfully, making quiet, animal noises of pain.

Hjalmar quickly pulls the wounded girl out of the pit. <<Need help now! Quick come!>> A call to his packmates before jumping back into the pit and spotting the stake in the man's leg. "Owh..." He goes to try and pull out the stake. It does not belong there.... What is it!

At first, Howl-in-the-Dark gives Puddle Jumper an uncertain look, as if not sure that he should leave the injured Garou alone. But the Ahroun is clearly not one to disagree with, and besides - the fight is quite over. The Uktena gives a final, cursory glance to the defeated form of the scrawny metis, before nodding to Puddle Jumper and then turning to return to Hjalmar's howl- just as Drey finally arrives. <<The battle here is done - I'm returning to ShieldBrother and the pit. I'm fearful to find out what the Black Spirals were doing - but we know it can't be good.>> Then, without waiting for acknowledgement, he's off, the huge dire wolf thundering along the ground at full speed. It takes a few moments to get there - the fleeing metis had led quite a merry chase after all - but as he nears, Howl can first hear, and then smell, what ShieldBrother is dealing with. His body contorting and reshaping itself, Micah changes back to homid form before approaching the pit directly, finally peering into the earthen hole to see within - and his stomach turns at the site of it. "Great spirit..." he whispers, eyes flashing. His jaw sets as sees the last of the fight - the awfulness of it causes him to just stand there a moment before he finally crouches down to take the child from Hjalmar, allowing the Fianna to return to the wild man. And leaving Micah with the trembling, abused child. "Shhh.. Hey.. It's okay, you're okay now... Everything's okay..." he does his best to comfort. Though it's clear that children are not really his forte, he's doing his level best.

When Hjalmar bends down to take hold of the stake, the man's moaning animal sounds become more desperate and ragged, even as he remains unconscious. He twitches and rolls a little, unconsciously trying to move away from the pain of the stake being tugged at. But eventually, with some great effort, Hjalmar manages to pull the stake free. Immediately, the man stills, his breath evening out even as his leg begins to bleed freely from the nasty wound. The stake is revealed to be a crude, hardwood stick carved with intricate glyphs praising the Wyrm, Suffering, Agony, Despair, Cruelty, and similar ideas. It has the familiar thrum of spirit energies to it, a dark fetish.

When the little girl is pulled out of the pit, she just crumples weightlessly and continues trying to shield herself, sobbing hysterically, inconsolably. She doesn't speak or try to run away, and eventually, as Micah continues in to hold and murmur soothing things to the wounded girl, she clings to him in animal fear. This close, it is apparent how very badly hurt she is.

As useless as she may've proved in the actual battle, the tell-tale sounds of shifting give way to the black-clad hispanic woman that's already approaching both Micah and the child. Drey's already stripped the leather jacket, leaving her own upper half in a baggy white wifebeater, as she attempts to cover the traumatized child, if not take her from Micah entirely. "Hey, hey, hey, baby girl," she's murmuring to the little girl, her approach and demeanor betraying far more experience with the young than her packmate has demonstrated. Well, we all have our forte... right?

Hjalmar looks at the stake and puts it next to him as he looks back and wills himself to heal the man's bleeding wound. If this is succesful, he would immediatly try to do the same for the girl. After this, he will contact the Kinfolk for cleanup, and Rhea's family for help with the victims.

Though he knows just about nothing when it comes to children, medicine, or giving medical attention to children, Micah can still tell just how badly injured the poor girl in his arms is. It sickens him and scares him, but also calls him to action. "Two-Souls!" he calls out, desperately, before the Ragabash is there, jacket in hand as if summoned. Only too eager to hand off the child, as if worried that he will make it worse by holding her wrong or some other mistake, he gently makes the exchange before taking one of his newly freed hands to comb through his long hair in a nervous gesture. "She's hurt real bad. I don't know if she'll make it without..." He looks around again, searching out Hjalmar. "Do you.. I mean, can you..." And then, the Philodox is on top of it, using Gifts to heal the victims and already reaching out to the Sept's network of allies for assistance in getting things cleaned up. "Thank the spirits," he murmurs, before looking over the site of the battle. "This is way too close, isn't it? I mean, how'd they set this up right under our noses?" Deep lines cross over his features as he moves towards one of the nearby Dancer corpses, trying to find identification if he can - a wallet with a Driver's License, a Social Security card or credit card, a gym membership ID, anything.

Puddle Jumper remains on her self-assigned duty to protect the giant, dead monster in the woods, as close as it is to the human city. She remains there in her breed form, even as the sound of scuffling and shouting and sobbing and screaming continues from the area of the pit. She's got keen enough ears to hear it, but she can also hear there haven't been any howls or shouts for help, so she trusts in the others to get their side of the job done. Eventually, they have accomplished it and she helps in cleaning up the mess, performing the rite of cleansing, and seeing the two helpless humans onto the bus.

After the humans are gone, Wazi will even make use of a set of healing talens to heal any wounds suffered by those besides herself. She refuses healing for her own wound with the explanation: <<First wound in battle. Rite of Wounding, save the scar.>>

Back in the clearing with the pit and the humans, the girl eventually sobs herself to sleep, exhausted and hurt, but far less hurt after Hjalmar's touched her. The man remains unconscious even after he's healed, though he slips from unconsciousness into a sleep of his own. The two are obviously battered and exhausted, both physically and emotionally, and completely at the mercy of the Garou. Thankfully, it's the good Garou this time, and not the four from before.

When Micah goes digging through the pockets of the two homid Black Spiral Dancers, he finds some cash, credit cards, and a photo ID in one man's wallet. The ID declares him to be "Steve Oberman" and shows his home address in the nearby city of Prospect. There's also a gym membership card for "Steele Fitness Academy". In the other man's pockets is only loose change, a stick of beef jerky, and a membership card for the same gym.