2019.02.15: Evening at the Kinfolk House Pt2

Evening at the Kinfolk House Pt2
After the crowd disperses, Dragomir has been speaking with Wazi, and Ryla is called over to help talk to her. Secrets are revealed, and a new friendship is struck - and the big ask.
IC Date	February 15th, 2019 - Evening
Players	Dragomir, Lleutrim, Ryla, Waziyata
Location	Kinfolk House
Spheres	Gaian Garou Shifter

As the quiet conversation continues, Wazi lifts a muddy hand up to scrub at her eyes, smearing dirt across her face before she finally lifts her gaze, then looks to Dragomir. It looks like she's crying, or has been crying. Must be a fierce tongue lashing, despite the quiet form it's taking.

Ryla takes note as her eyes see the girl. She begins to walk over there, concerned look on her face. "Excuse me, I know you two are speaking in private, but could I be of any assistance?" She can be talkative and pushy, but she does genuinely wish to help others.

Dragomir finishes saying something to Wazi, when he hears the words. He turns his head to look towards Ryla and nods, "Greetings Twilight's Glimmer. We are discussing heavy topics, of which I am hardly an expert."

As Ryla draws closer, she will see that Wazi's hands have been busily tearing up bits of the earth and smoothing it back out again, Her hands are caked in dirt, and her face tracked with many tears, eyes and nose both still wet in the firelight. She's breathing more or less calmly, though a little unevenly, and the worst of the emotional storm may have passed by now. She is staring intently at Dragomir as the man finishes speaking, brow furrowed, expression somewhere between forlorn and amazed. Then Ryla speaks and the Ahroun breaks. She snorts, then laughs, the sound raw and choked, before she shakes her head and looks from Dragomir up to the Cliath. Her eyes are already tearing up again, but she's grinning, "I-"

She chokes on the word, grin closing her eyes and taking a breath, before blinking them open to try again without the grin, tone very serious: "I am needing help."

Ryla reaches into her purse, takes out a pack of tissues, and sits down her purse. She approaches a little closer, and bends her knees down, her heels moving up a bit in those sneakers that really look out of place for the stylish professional. Her hand reaches out with one of the tissues. "Puddle Jumper, I'm here to listen and give advice as I can. I know I'm not as experienced as a Garou, but I am trained otherwise. We are all here to help you out. Whatever it is, I know that together we are stronger."

The door of the house opens, and Kaati slips out onto the porch. She's no longer wearing her jacket, but carries it. After a long enough pause for a good breath, she heads out toward her parked bike.

Wazi's first reply to all of that from Ryla is to sniffle, her eyes closing again though she still faces toward the other woman. She sits silently, taking a deep breath, head tilting slightly at the sound of the door opening and closing and Kaati crossing the clearing. But then the girl heaves a sigh and shakes her head slowly, eyes remaining shut, "He says," she answers quietly, "To talk to you. For balance." Her brow furrows again, frown returning, head lowering slightly.

"How?" The question is asked in a harsher tone, the girl's eyes opening again to glare at Ryla, now. They're still raw and red and streaked with mud, but at least she isn't crying again just yet. Directionless anger's a good sign in an Ahroun, right?

Kaati gives them a wide berth. Very wide. But her gaze keeps returning to them, curious, until she finally reaches the Norton and puts on her jacket.

Ryla nods, "Yes, balance is something we all seek. It is not easy with our nature, and I can see you are struggling with something. What I would like to do is get to know you better, and you tell me about what those times that you do lose emotional balance. See if we can find the root of this, and perhaps tools to help you counter that when it happens."

So rude. Wazi doesn't look at Kaati or show any real curiosity for the woman crossing the clearing and getting ready to leave, despite the curiosity in her and Ryla's direction. It might be forgivable, given the circumstances. Instead, she glowers sullenly at Ryla as the woman speaks, before licking her lips and sniffling again, then looking down and away. She is silent a moment, before shifting her weight and uncrossing her legs, moving her knees up against her chest, feet pressed against the earth. Then she shifts her weight again, moving into a squat. She again paws at the dirt with her hands, scooping up some of it and pressing it between both palms before her, then finally giving a nod at Ryla without looking at her.

Dragomir is seated on the ground, and is probably a lot less intimidating like this. One leg out-stretched as he watches the interaction. He offers, "You will need to use your words Puddle Jumper. So we may understand where your story begins." He turns to look towards Ryla, and then back. "If you wish, I can leave you two alone to speak." he offers lightly, respectfully even.

After one last, measuring look toward the three, Kaati swings a leg over the bike. It takes all of her effort and a deft application of gravity and body weight to kick-start the thing. But after a couple of tries, the engine turns over, and then the question-mark kin is roaring off into the evening.

Ryla does not even turn her head to watch the bike. Not out of indifference, but because Wazi is now her focus. "Puddle Jumper, would it be easier for you to speak to me as a wolf? Or can you share with human words?" She shakes a hand to Dragomir, "If she is comfortable with you here, then I am alright with that. She needs to feel able to share and it is her call."

Tension is sneaking back into the teenage lupus as she stays in that crouch, squeezing and kneading her clump of dirt, gazing down at it. She shifts her weight a little when Dragomir speaks, but she doesn't protest or speak in reply, hands going still again. At Ryla's words, the lupus shakes her head again, hands clenching into fists, the clump of dirt disintegrating to fall to the ground in pieces. Then she takes a slow, calming breath and stands up, turning on her heel to face toward the two, scowling seriously down at them.

"Is better, this," she answers, speech more halting and broken than normal, "Lupus is.. Too.. Too simple. Too small. Bite, run, kill, eat, sleep, hug."

The scowl turns to a frustrated grimace then, before she takes another deep breath, then drops back into a squat, now facing toward the two rather than away, her back to the fire and the rest of the clearing. Her eyes drop to the earth again, "I killed pack." And then she is in tears again.

If there's one thing Dragomir knows, it is the Curse - and when someone is on the brink. He watches the tremble in Puddle Jumper and sees the struggle for control. He does not help right away, instead letting her learn to cope with it on her own the best she can at first - until it looks like she is about to lose that battle. He lifts a half-gloved hand up in the air, shifting to face his palm down and slowly lowers his hand towards the ground in a /calm/ing gesture. "Find your center... you are safe. Feel at peace now." as he literally strips away the rage from the Ahroun with just a gesture of his hand. Drago has been gone for a long time.. and seems to have picked up some weird tricks while he was gone.

The three are in the bushes a little ways off from the campfire at the Kinfolk House, quite late at night, having a quiet, but apparently emotional chat.

Ryla scoots in a bit as she is folded all up in that ball nearly. Those sneakers she put on today come in handy! She keeps low down, trying to get on an even level with the girl. She is pretty small so not too hard. She takes a tissue and hands it over to her. She would wipe those tears herself, but does not want to touch when the girl is not that close with her. "Tell me what happened. How did this happen?" She has a zillion questions, and could get really pointed, but this is just not that point yet. She needs more information first.

Battle Singer has caught the tail end of what's going on as he's come up and stopped a little distance back. He's in the trees, now standing still and watching. Not hiding though he is partly concealed, just very quiet when he arrived. Ears up, silvery eyes bright, the Fianna wolf hangs back so not to disturb what's going on in the clearing. He can pick right up that Waziyata seems upset and the lleupine looks concerned, should anyone notice him.

The ground before the girl is wounded with little patches of loose and smoothed dirt where she was pawing at the earth with her human hands repeatedly, tonight. When she makes that admission, the tears are not the silent things of earlier in the night. This time, she is sobbing hoarsely, swallowing air in great, gulping gasps. She brings her muddy hands up as if to wipe at her face, but they are clenched into tight, white-knuckled fists, the crying taking on a shuddering, animalistic form as her Rage clearly wells up in the moment of anguish. But then, perhaps because of Dragomir's gift, perhaps just due to the girl's own stubbornness, she begins to calm down again. Her breathing begins to slow and she sniffles loudly, the offered tissue ignored in favor of wiping her face on the back of her arm and hand (streaking more dirt across her brow and nose).

She is silent for a few moments, maybe a full minute, after Ryla's questions - taking that time to breathe and shiver and compose herself again. Then she shakes her head, stealing a quick glance up to Ryla, then Dragomir, then back to the dirt. "It.. I.. It was, I don't surge it. Rage. Frenzy.' Another shivering breath, before she shakes her head again, grimacing, and continues, "Th-they were.. I was, angry. They chased me. I would not go. Fought. Won. Fought. Won. They, Quelled Fury, too much Rage. Did not want me."

Her tone is more calm and quiet, now, only a little tremulous, the initial rush of emotions replaced with hollow explanation. "Humans came to kill us. I killed them. Pack, too. That is what he says. Wyrm Rage."

Ryla reaches out now, and just barely strokes Wazi's head. "How long ago was this? Were you still a Cub? It sounds like a terrible confusing time for you. Really, our Rage is something that takes much time to learn to control. You were pressed in many ways, and if anything, your continued presence as a Child of Gaia and work against the Wyrm says something right there. You have people around you that can help you grow and find ways to use your Rage, and you can use this experience to make yourself stronger. Make your pack stronger as well." There are not best words for this sort of situation, but support is needed.

Oh goodness, seeing Wazi's grief, Battle Singer can't stand it. He comes out of the trees and approaches the other three. The Galliard does so a little cautiously in the event the others don't want him here.

The Fianna wolf pads softly over the pine needle strewn ground and coming up, he very gently noses Wazi and then gently nuzzles her once. She's calmer now and if she didn't frenzy a moment ago, she's probably not going to. He curls around her and lies down. He's there if she wants to put out a hand into his fur to steady herself. Lleu's not doing anything to stop her from telling her tale or Ryla from asking her questions. The wolf is absolutely quiet.

Dragomir listens, sitting nearby and allowing Ryla and Wazi to interact now. The judge's gaze is harsh, it is always harsh as he studies the girl. There is a tension to his body language, and he shakes his head disapprovingly. "You were not strong enough to control yourself. Gaia's Warriors suffered because of it." That's a hard pill for Dragomir to swallow - and he's far from the coddling type. In fact, he starts to stand up. Half-gloved fingers clench into fists, as that urge to fight comes through him faster than he was prepared. He needs a moment - knowing full well the first instinct to punt Wazi across the Caern -has- to be ignored here.

When she's finished saying all that, Wazi goes quiet again, staring determinedly down at the dirt, arms moving to hug around her legs, chin dipping down to rest on her knees, compressing herself into a smaller ball of raw emotion. She sniffles again, still breathing erratically, but she doesn't leap to her feet or start snapping her human teeth at the hand that reaches forth to stroke her hair, even as Dragomir's tension is gathering.

When Lleutrim comes in to nose at her, she tenses a little, then sniffs deeply - not a sniffle, a testing of the air. A little of her tension bleeds away at the familiar contact.

Then Dragomir speaks and she tenses again, form going still as she stops breathing. Then, the girl is trembling again, much more violently, fingers digging into the rough denim of her jeans, shoulder blades standing out through the thin fabric of her new tee-shirt. It's very clear that the Ahroun has once again only /just/ restrained herself from losing her shit. Again.

After she's done resisting her Rage, she huffs out another ragged breath and has another moment of full-body shivering.

"No," she speaks very quietly, voice a raw croak, "-Real- pack. Family. Kin. Wolves."

Ryla notes the comfort attempted by the wolf that comes over, and with Dragomir moving off, she gets a bit closer. With Lleu on the other side, Ryla goes forward and puts an arm around Wazi. "I see." How do you comfort someone that killed their own family. She knows she is going to get into danger here, but she is not going to go the route of chastising her. "Ok. Puddle Jumper, what did the Elders say to this? Do they know? This has been some time, and the spirits have not stopped you from gaining renown or rank here. They know everything, and see everything." Nosey bunch they are. "What amends have you made." She wants as always to say more, but information is more important than reaction just now.

Battle Singer eyes Dragomir as he stands and looks angered and chews Wazi out. The Fianna's ears actually go back and he stares at Dragomir, as if /he/ would lunge at the Silver Fang himself if the Athro goes after Wazi. /Protective/ of her like a little sister, even if he knows Dragomir would kick his ass. His nostrils flare and as Dragomir keeps pushing, Battle Singer starts to show his teeth. No growling, though his coat starts to bristle.

The wolf suddenly changes into a man and Lleutrim moves to stand between Wazi and Dragomir, "Eye of the Storm'rhya, NO. Stop." He puts out a hand and meets his former mentor eye to eye. "This is not the time nor the place. We are at the /Kinfolk/ house. If you two go at it right before I'm to leave on my quest, I will have no choice but to go without /both/ of you, or choose between you once it's been put off long enough for everyone to regain strength."

The former Marine stands his ground, "We need to help her grow stronger, not beat her for her pain. For past mistakes she KNOWS was wrong. If not for her sake, then for -mine-, I ask you to control your temper." Ryla can engage Wazi if she's able while Lleu tries to get Dragomir to cool his heels.

Kill the Warriors of Gaia, that would be enough to make Dragomir mad. Kill Kinfolk, man that would be enough to really piss Dragomir off. Kill Family, the man goes white hot for a moment and snarls very lowly. This is not that kind of snarl we had before, where Drago was disapproving. This is an entirely different level of mad, this is fury - pure and simple. The judge stops when Lleutrim talks, and he turns. There is a wave of presence to the man when he does - and his gaze levels coldly. He does not speak right away, but even without words there is a cold definition of brutal violence that emanates off the man in ripples.

He lifts his half-gloved hand very slowly, and he points towards Ryla and Lleutrim, "You will prepare her for the Legendary Realm, and to serve Gaia as she was intended. We will go, as a group and we will complete this quest. Afterwards, I will deal with her myself." There is a promise there, and he growls, "You do not coddle an Ahroun for killing. She was not wrong.. she slaughtered her Family and Kinfolk. That goes against everything we are. Once we return, I will beat control into her every day, until she learns to harness her Rage and use it properly."

Then he turns his gaze on Wazi and snarls deeply, "You will not go near MY kinfolk. If you even start to get annoyed, you will RUN from any kinfolk you are near. So help me Gaia.. IF.. you even so much as growl at a Kinfolk again.. I will rip you limb from limb a hundred times over, and wait for you to heal just so I can do it again." Then he turns his head to look towards Lleutrim and adds, ".. and if you make me put you down to do it, I will." That was not a threat, it was definitely - emphatically, without any question, a promise.

Wazi is silent, defeated by her own words. She doesn't look up when Ryla comes close to put an arm around her and asks her those follow-up questions, not immediately. She breathes in deeply, shuddering slightly, then Lleu is moving away from her and speaking. She grits her teeth and then abruptly stands up, pulling away from Ryla in the movement and pacing quickly away from the two men. She doesn't go very far, moving to one of the logs used as a bench by the fire. Even as Lleu finishes speaking, she rears and stomps the top of the log with tremendous speed and force, splintering a foot hole into its center. Then she exhales heavily, most of the tension bleeding completely from her form, sagging as if suddenly exhausted.

Then, Dragomir is making his reply to Lleu and the girl shifts her weight, carefully extricating her foot from the broken log seat, then turning to face toward the Athro. She doesn't look up further than the ground at the man's feet, and she stands with a slumped, defeated, defenseless posture, trembling visibly as the man says his piece.

Then she gives a small nod in reply to the man. There are fresh, silent tears on her cheeks, but not a hint of either Rage or confidence.

Ryla rises slowly. She knows how hot all of these Garou here are. There is a time and a place for Rage, absolutely. Rank, position, Honor, Glory, Wisdom, it all matters. Still she wants answers, and it seems her normal approach just is not going to win out when she is lowest on the totem pole and newest on the scene. She rises to her feet straightening out to her full height. She can feel that rage from the three of them, and has to say, "That is your right, Eye of the Storm'rhya. You must protect yours and teaching this one is certainly in line with the litany in several ways. Just remember that this is not something that /just/ happened. Puddle Jumper may have at least paid some dues for this, and should not be punished for the rest of her Gaia granted life for her actions as, what I am assuming, is that of a Cub. She needs to learn control, not just be swatted at every opportunity. I'd assume that we have all made mistakes when we were younger? And less in control? Have we all not taken a swipe at someone we shouldn't? Regretted something? Her actions as atrocious as they are, certainly we cannot understand that pain of killing our own kin."

Lleutrim has won what he wanted and was prepared to have his ass handed to him, if need be, to get it - to distract Dragomir's full fury for even a few seconds. No immediate attack is forth coming. Battle Singer refuses to take a step back right away but he nods and slides his gaze to the Silver Fang's shoulder, sort of baring his throat slightly as he does so. "As I would expect you to do, if I had been the one to have lost control, Eye of the Storm'rhya. There is a time and a place for it. Thank you."

Oh, he's not pleased with what Wazi has done. Lleu turns his head to look at her and his mouth is a thin, hard line. "I'll not have her near Faith if she can't control her anger either. We shall work on it."

A slow breath. Lleu adds more quietly, "Eye of the Storm'rhya is right. He /taught/ me, and I needed a hard ass kicking to learn the lesson. Not to control my rage but to rile it and push me over that brink. Else I might not have changed. I trust his wisdom in this."

He steps out of the way, no longer between them and glances at Ryla.

Dragomir is many things, but he knows how to lead if nothing else. He believes in breaking what is partially broken, and rebuilding it from the scraps. He snorts towards Lleutrim when he shows his throat, not going to take it this time. He glares towards Ryla and he says, "We will all make mistakes.. we will all, do harm, when we intend not to." He steps forward once the path is clear and he reaches out a brutal hand with the ferocity of a bear and he snatches up Wazi by the throat and lifts her CLEAR off the ground like she was a stuffed animal instead of a human being (Strength 8). Holding her by the throat and growls into her face.

"You will not cower from this! You will not CRY about this! There is no pain. There is no regret! YOU, will learn to face death. For Death is what Gaia has charged you with. You, will fight on! You will bolster and growl through pain. You do not get to crumble. You do not get to retreat. You do not get to -feel- Warrior." and his free hand splays outwards, and silver claws ignite the tips. Like he's about to claw her! Does Lleu -really- trust his mentor? We're about to find out.

Oh shit! Dragomir goes for Wazi and the Galliard whips around, watching, tensing right up. He comes around a few steps closer and to the side and keeps his mouth /shut/ at least until the silver claws appear! Then that is a bit too much. He steels himself NOT to leap forward and interfere. There is nothing he could do to stop Dragomir from killing her with his silver claws -already- wrapped around her throat so he holds very, very still. "Dragomir..." and he waits, poised and tense lest he was wrong to try and trust this man, his former mentor, who has been gone for so long.

Wazi doesn't resist in the slightest when Dragomir grabs her by the throat and lifts her up. She is forced to meet his eyes, her own still leaking tears though she doesn't attempt to look away from the man. She chokes involuntarily, hands lifting to claw feebly at the arm holding her up, and her mouth opens and closes as if to speak or draw air. But, she doesn't look away or cringe in fear. After the instinctual reaction has had its way, she merely holds his arm, no longer fighting even feebly. Waiting, resigned, defeated.

Ryla stands next to Lleutrim now. Mouth shut, putting her trust into a man she does not know, but clearly has a plan in mind. She will keep her eyes on him and Wazi, and well, everyone. What more can she do when a lesson is to be learned.

Dragomir growls at Wazi, locking gaze with her and trying to stoke the rage in the young girl. "Gaia chose you for a reason. Gaia trust in you. You have much left to do, much more to fight. You will grow from this." he snarls deeply, and lifts the tip of a silver claw towards her skin. The edge of it bites into her skin, and he begins to carve a glyph into her flesh. "When we are hurt deeply.. we carry scars to remind us of the pain, and our strength. These become to reminders that give us purpose, and drive. These become the symbols of our wounds, but also our reasons. So I give you a scar, a glyph for Family, so you may wear it with Pride. Honor them. In every battle.. in every fight.. in everything you do, from this point forward. You were weak, and now.. you must be strong. A new family depends on you. I new Family will need you. You will not fail again. You will never, be weak, again."

Thankfully, Dragomir isn't losing his shit. He seems way more calm and controlled. Lleu stays back watching, hyper focused while the glyph is cut into her flesh. No interfering. No anger, still a little tense but silent. He doesn't even know Ryla but Lleu puts out a hand to rest it lightly on her shoulder as they stay back and observe the Athro's lesson.

Tears continue to flow freely down the girl's cheeks, throat moving under Dragomir's grasp in some continued attempt to sob or breathe or both. Snot dribbles from her nose, a bit of drool from her open mouth, but she is tough enough not to black out from the treatment, at least not this quickly. Even as the silver burns into her flesh, she doesn't show Rage, though she does cringe back slightly before clenching her teeth in a grimace of dismayed determination. Her fingers dig into his arm once more and she tightens her muscles, holding herself still against the pain and suffocation as the glyph is burned into her. Then, she is simply staring back at the man, trembling, still dribbling snot and tears freely, holding herself tense and ready. But still, there is not a return of her Rage. Not yet.

Dragomir drops her, like a heap of shit there where he held her. Having left the Glyph carved deeply into her flesh his dismisses the Silver Claws. He stands over her in judgment and he growls, "Gaia will decide now. The full moon begins tomorrow.. and she will look into Luna's face and either know her place, or forget it. She is worthless to Gaia until she reclaims her wolf." the man is harsh. It seems though that he has done all he is able or willing to do for her. In fact, he starts to turn around - like he plans to walk away from the Ahroun.

Ryla's eyes widen at the mark. The silver makes her swallow a bit nervously, but she tries not to show that.

On hitting the ground, Wazi takes a gasp of air and then splutters, coughing and rolling onto her side, curling instinctively into the fetal position for just a moment. She lays on the ground, trembling, spluttering, catching her breath and focusing on something even as Dragomir makes his pronouncement. She tenses every muscle again, before turning her head and biting fiercely at her own arm, sinking her teeth deep into the meat of it, then jerking her head sharply. The movement gives the girl a terrible wound and she gasps out, then snarls and leaps to her feet, blood dripping from the scar and the massive gobbet of flesh stripped from herself. She stands a moment, hands splayed like claws, swelling, poised to leap on the Athro as his back is turned. Then, she spits the flesh at him and screams, "I am NOT useless. NEVER AGAIN!" The tears are flowing again, but so is the Rage, it seems.

Well, this evening turned into almost total shit. Lleutrim looks at Wazi mutilating herself and turns his head to watch Dragomir coldly walk off. He sighs, looks at Ryla then just shakes his head. Not happy. Not at all. The Galliard walks off a little ways and takes a seat at the fire pit to think.

Ryla takes a seat now as well near Lleutrim. "Well. At least this place is not going to be boring." Her brain is working, striving to figure out how she is going to fit in with all of them.

The strangest thing of all is probably that Wazi seems to be calming down, now. She stands, bleeding freely even as her flesh begins to knit, regrowing over the patch of exposed bone and torn muscle. She pants, trembling, sniffling some, then lifts her unbloodied hand not to wipe at her face, but to touch at the glyph burned into her hide. She trembles, eyes closing a moment, before she whispers, "Thank you."

She sniffles again after that, harder, then moves her muddied hand up to swipe at her face a moment. Then, she turns and moves slowly toward Lleu and Ryla, stumbling a little. Her misty gaze is focused on the Galliard as she approaches, still trembling violently, still obviously emotionally raw and wracked, but focused on him.

"Hah!" Says Lleu to Ryla's quip, "No, it's not usually boring." He lifts a hand to rub the back of his neck and then over his scalp and down his face. "About six months ago I was a cop who thought he was nothing but a regular Joe. Then Gaia came up my six and bit me in the ass. Things have definitely been a hell of a roller coaster since and I still have so much to learn." He looks at her, "How long ago, your change? Wazi's wasn't so long ago herself... and she's so young." He glances past the 'therapist' Ragabash to see how Wazi's pulling herself back together - or not.

When he sees her stumbling over towards them and looking at him, Lleu simply puts an arm out to invite her to come sit close. Like he might do with Faith.

Ryla looks to Wazi as well as she moves over. Back to Lleu, "I changed just about a year ago. Back on Valentine's Day actually. I knew it was coming sometime, but kind of gave up on that happening. I had my work, and was very happy serving Gaia that way. Once I did, and went through all the training, and proving myself to my family - which was not at all an easy task - I finally passed my rite of passage and that is when I decided to leave and come here."

She doesn't come to Lleu, though she does hesitate a moment as if tempted to. She sniffles again, eyeing the man in silence a long moment, before she licks her lips and then speaks. Her voice is still raw, croaking, and her trembling stance one still clearly on the brink of defeat and despair, despite the small spark kindled in the ritual scarring from Dragomir.

""My family is dead," she tells him, voice quavering at the words, good hand again moving to the new scar as fresh tears appear, "But I am not Bad Wazi. I am not your dog. And I will never go near to- to Faith."

She sniffles again at that, trembling, shivering, before she begins to turn away from the man again.

Lleutrim listens to Ryla, "Here I have been Garou for half as long as either of you and I'm already trying for Adren." Then Wazi stops and he gives her his full attention when he realizes she's not going to take a seat with him. The Galliard frowns, "You were behaving badly, Wazi. Whatever was your intention to be so pushy when I asked you to stop? Just think about it. Whether it was more important than our friendship."

The former Marine gets up, "Goodnight, Ryla." Another look to Wazi, then Lleu turns and starts to walk for the trees to depart.

Wazi looks back to Lleu at the man's words, frowning now, "I did not understand," she tells him flatly, openly, "Pushing, saying dog breath, thought you were play. Did not know, until Bad Wazi. I cheddar you. You confuse me. I do not threaten for it." Her tone isn't accusatory, just mild, trembly.

Ryla looks to Lleu as he leaves. "With time comes Wisdom. It is not just how many deeds you have done, but what you have learned from them. Maybe some people hold you back. But the struggle is important for growth as well. Not backing down, but also understanding as much as we want something, we may need that time for true understanding." She nods Wazi with her words.

Reaching the trees, Lleu reaches a hand up to a branch and looks back, to Wazi first. "We'll work on it." An up nod for Ryla, "Sounds like I'll have plenty of time to learn in the Legendary Realm. Everyone tells me that I better expect to spend years, probably /decades/ there struggling to learn and understand. Though thankfully, little time by comparison is likely to pass here. So, I guess I'll find out if I live to return, at least I ought to be wiser."

He ducks under the branch and then becomes a wolf once more. The Fianna moves off quietly into the trees and eventually is swallowed up by the forest, heading westward.

At that, Wazi looks from the disappearing Lleu to Ryla. She considers the other woman silently a long moment, still bleeding from her wounds, though far less so - much of the damage to her arm is already healed. Her lip trembles a moment, just visible in the firelight, before she asks quietly, "How.. How do I make them see me?" There's a hint of the anguish returned, though with an undercurrent of anger. If nothing else, she isn't giving up again. Yet.

Ryla rises from her seat. "Puddle Jumper, I do not have an answer for you yet. I see two very strong minded, stubborn men, that are blind sometimes. You have to be strong, be the Garou I know you can be, and you will need to stand up. I need to think about this more, but I can see that Eye of the Storm'rhya is trying his best to help. Battle Singer'rhya... he cares much for you and I do not think he knows how to help either. Too new at this and yet set in his ways. He is still a cop, a marine. He is not a Garou yet."

Wazi stares back at the other woman as she rises to her feet and speaks, listening intently. She sniffles again, taking a deep breath. Then she moves, crossing the short distance around the fire and closing in to grab the Ragabash in a sudden, fierce, tight hug... Unless the Ragabash flinches or shows any sign of moving away or refusing the contact. If that happens, the Ahroun immediately stops, then turns on her heel.

Ryla does not flinch, and takes that tight hug. She was not expecting that, but just replies, "Thank you." She does like this girl. More than any of the others she has met, and tonight, she has won a friend, that is for sure. Not just a therapist.

The hug is crushingly strong, the girl is nigh superhumanly strong, even in her homid form, and she squeezes tight, trembling violently once more. Her breath hitches, she sniffles, sobs once, then is back to mere trembling as she holds onto the Silver Fang. Then, after a long moment, she gasps a shallow breath and says softly, "I do not want to kill them."

Another sob, another gasp, and then, "It is not me who would try."

Ryla hmms, as she is getting crushed by the Ahroun. "I can see that. You do care. You would not do that. It is the beast. That Rage you need to learn to manage, and use it for good. I have heard of some things, fetishes that can be made to help you with that. I can gather that information for you. I have connections back home to get it, I'm just not able to do it myself."

At the sound from Ryla, Wazi eases her squeeze, though she doesn't release the hug right away. It is too important to her at the moment. She nods slightly at Ryla's words, trembling, shivering again, before taking another shaky breath and answering, "Yes. There is also.. Rite of Stealing Wolf." She outright shudders at the words, turning her face away momentarily, "It has been used, once. I do not like it. It did not help lots. Some. Only some."

She hesitates another moment, taking another shaky breath, swallowing and sniffling a moment, before she adds quietly, "A-anything which can help. Quelled Fury'rhya, says, it is because of Wyld. Where he did touch me, Wyrm can sneak in. It is why this is Wazi."

Ryla hmms, "Yes, I have heard of that Rite. It is pretty drastic. I do not think that is something called for here. I will get the information on the fetish. It should help with the frenzy, but yes, the Wyld is certainly a place of issue. We strive to balance the triat, and combat the Wyrm from over taking. But the Wyld can as well. I wish I had more answers for you, but know this. I am here for you. I'm not giving up on you. The men, they want to help to. I can see that. Know that you have someone that will not leave you. I swear to that." And she means it. She can tell this girl needs a person. A friend. Someone.

The hug tightens into another fierce squeeze at that final declaration from Ryla, Wazi even going so far as to press her cheek against the shorter woman's hair, enveloping her more deeply and definitely getting a mixture of blood, tears, snot, mud, and who knows what else on or in it. Then, she impulsively kisses Ryla's head, too, right where her filthy face just was before loosening the hug again. She shows no immediate inclination of letting go, and her trembling is finally, finally beginning to abate. Again she whispers, "Thank you," though this thanks is in a far different tone than the reverent, near-hysterical reaction to Dragomir's "gift". This one is the simple, quiet thanks of someone who was drowning, now laying on the rescue raft.

Then, she adds in a quiet, quavering, determined voice: "I am Waziyata. Named Puddle Jumper. Killer of Kin. Daughter Wind That Sleeps At Night and Wakes. Also of Sweet Trees Singing With Cold Water. Sister for Kaskapahtew, Osäwä, and Nikamew and Twilight Glimmer." A hesitation then, before she is drawing back a bit to scowl fiercely down at Ryla, "Never. Again."

Ryla smiles at that. It is a serious moment, but an auspicious one. The Coggie is sounding a bit like a Silver Fang. And included her in it. "You honor your kin by sharing that, and you honor me with the inclusion. I would be proud to include you in mine as well." That may definitely cause some brows to raise. But she needs to start somewhere here, and standing by her word is part of it.

Wazi is teary-eyed again at Ryla's words, though this time the girl smiles back. It is a tentative, pained expression, but then she gives a quiet snort. Then a little chuckle, her smile turning suddenly into the tiniest of grins, a hint of the Ahroun's previously endless well of humor peeking through the awful moment. "When Dragomir asks, say I will stand for it." She chuckles again, quietly, then finally relaxes, the last of her tension bleeding from her. Still, she holds to Ryla, it's probably not as intrusive for a lupus to stay in intimate contact with a now close friend as it might be for a human. Especially one in as much turmoil as she's faced tonight.

She takes a slow breath, then exhales quietly and adds, "I will challenge Adren, soon. Should I, still?" The smile fades to a more reserved expression as she looks back down to the new Cliath for advice.

Ryla considers that question. "I would wait to challenge until you help Battle Singer'rhya enter the Legendary Realm. That battle will be the hardest anyone has faced, and he needs that attention first. It is also a chance to work and improve yourself, as well as prove yourself to others with your actions and lessons you are learning about your control. But I am just a Cliath here. So make of it what you will."

She tilts her head a bit to the side at that answer, before giving a slight nod, "Yes," she agrees, "Was waiting for that." A pause there, another hesitation, before she asks plainly, "After, if we come back, I am not too barstool now?"

Ryla asks, "Barstool? Perhaps you can use other words to describe what you mean by that?" She is confused by that, and knows it may be a side effect of the Wyld within her.

A faint sigh is the first response to that question, before Wazi licks her lips, then shakes her head slightly and repeats her question more simply: ""I am not too broken?"

Ryla aahs. "No, Puddle Jumper, you are not too broken. We all have something wrong with us. But we all have a purpose, and you are finding yours. You are going to be excellent, it just takes time and the support of a pack truly. A pack is what you need I think. People to challenge you, and support. People to learn from and to teach. Most important. It is family. I know you are scared to lose more, but in a way you are coming full circle."

She closes her eyes again at that, a glimmer of pain returning to her expression, before she gives another slight smile and inhales deeply, scenting the air again. Then she answers in a quiet, wry tone, "I am making pack, since before you or Just a Glitch. Fighting Lleu and Lights Darkness, pushing them, saying things you are saying. They are scared, too."

Then her eyes open again and she looks seriously at Ryla once more, "You should come. Join Wazi. Be pack. See legends, fight Wyrm, grow and learn and thing. They will scare, but you will show them."

Ryla's eyes widen. "You want me to join you all? I have not proven myself in a fight yet... I would be honored to do that. Honored to stand by those that will be legends themselves one day. Thank you." She is surprised and did not expect that at all.

Wazi actually rolls her eyes at that reaction from Ryla, a small smirk forming at her expense, though it isn't mean-spirited. "Lights Darkness says, when wolf knows, it knows." A pause, then, "My wolf knows. Maybe his will, too."

Then she gives a quiet snort, shaking her head slightly, before she is tightening the hug one last time, squeezing the Cliath tightly, "Now we will make them see, too. You will help me bleed Eye of the Storm."

It's a nice, ominous way to segue into a new conversation.