2013:12:15:Moot

2013:12:15:Moot
December Moot
IC Date	December full moon
IC Time	Night time
Players	Players in the scene. (it's a good idea to link each player to their wiki with around their name
Location	Garou Caern
Prp/Tp	None
Spheres	Gaian Garou

Pascal gives the apparent newcomer a nod of his head. "I'd welcome you, but I believe there are better qualified here for that," he says. His voice has the regal, upper class accent and quality to it that one might expect from looking at how the young man carries himself.

Kathryn listens to Pascal and smiles.

George comes ambling in to the clearing, looking a little fidgety as he watches the gathering space fill up. He finds somewhere out of the way to stand for now and leans against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest.

Ameia looks at Sara and leans her head forward, canting it slightly to the side as she studies the drawing on the dirt. She chuffs a little laugh and leans forward, nosing at Sara's forehead and licking her cheek in greeting. She offers a quiet little rumble of greeting and shifts slightly, offering the Fianna kin a place to sit if she wants.

Whitethunder whurfs sharply "Sara, Kin of the Fianna; Cousin of Teagen, mate to Leandro Blood-in-the-Streets." The Shadowlord is more than a little interested. First by the shed of clothes, cause damn Ameia is cute as a -cutebutton-, but also because the way she shifts is just goddamn /gorgeous/. Like a Kalindorani twisting effortlessly from one shape to the next, her body knows no bindings of form and muscle and skin. There's a bit of envy on those gold eyes. The silver-tipped Crinos growls other introductions out as well, the complex snarl, yip, growl, bar, throat-noise of the First Tongue fluent and clear in his familiar throat. "I am Julius 'Caesar' Whitethunder, Judge born of Garou, Cliath of the Shadow Lord Tribe. The fellow coming up into the Caern there is George 'Mocks the Darkness', Trickster born of Man, Fostern of the Silent Striders. The girl in the silver dress is Kathryn, an un-rited cub of the Half-Moon, chosen by the Glasswalkers. And this bundle of pregnant joy is my Vicky, who I call 'Robs-the-Senses', kin to the Glasswalkers, who has chosen me because of a congenital brain defect that makes her stupid about certain random things. You are welcome, Wrath of Dike, Daughter of Pegasus and Protector of women."

The rune is scrubbed out with fingertips in the dirt as Sara gets a slobbered greeting.. the wolf-lick clearly no bother or surprise to the girl. But wait - who-huh-what-mate? THAT gets her attention and the young woman is up on her feet with a head cocked to one side looking more like an urban thug than a got-it-together kin for a moment. The way she mouths BULLSHIT-LIKE-BLOODY-HELL-I-AM doesn't need to be heard to be clear. Cause well - not EVERYONE can hear punctuation.

Vicky is all but completely hidden, balled up in huge crinos arms with her butt, the top of her head, and her sneakered feet visible. Stretching up a hand, she tugs on his whiskers. "Yeah. My defect is called the ability to think for myself and the balls to go after it." Hmph! Tugtug. She tucks her hand back up, rather enjoying being his little hairless teddy bear. It's warm and safe in there.

George shakes his head at Julius as he introduces him "I made Adren a while back, you've been busy though so you might have missed it." he adds as he ambles over, offering Ameia a respectful nod. When Sara starts jumping up he waves at her "Teagen's Leandro's mate. Not you."

"I would howl in introduction but my voice is horrible in homid." Kaydin says as he seems to appear out of the background as he walks to the gathering. He then dips his hat to Ameia, having to take a second glance to remember he is a pervert and needed to act as such. "Looking good, ma'am." He says as he bows. "The name's Kaydin, Rite named Scraps, Fostern of the bone gnawers, Ahroun, Metis born if you cant tell by my dashing good looks." The albino says calmly.

"/Move/," a voice hisses, not three feet behind Kaydin. This voice comes from a grizzled Black Fury. She neither looks nor sounds taken by his self-declared dashing good looks.

Ameia looks to each person in turn as Whitethunder introduces them. One might notice the marks of Pegasus upon her as even the female kinfolk get a deeper nod of respect than the male wolves. She blinks and stares at George for a moment... something about HIS introduction gets a little snickered chuff of amusement out of her, though she sort of coughs and offers George another little bow of her head. It's... interesting... the nods of her head seem to differ in height for rank, not that anyone here knows her well enough yet to know which nod means what, though the fact remains the same that the women get deeper nods than even the highest ranked male here. <<It is a pleasure to meet you all. I am glad to be here and I thank you for your kindness and words of welcome.>> She goes quiet at the hiss from the fury behind Kaydin. She blinks quietly and sits up suddenly straighter. That black fury is probably higher rank than she is and so she suddenly sits at attention and all talking ceases. Kaydin gets a slight bow of her head as he introduces himself, but she doesn't make another sound.

Kaydin moves aside and puts his fedora back on. "Consider myself moved." He says as he moves to a spot where he doesnt have to be by the whitethunder fanclub. "Not to question things, but I thought the fullmoon was full and proper tomorrow?" He asks curiously, before reaching into his coat for a raggedy mini calender.

Pascal doesn't hang about the edges. Though for the most part, he keeps out of the way, introducing himself as, "I'm called Pascal, unrited Galliard cub. It is a pleasure to see so many new faces, after so many months absence." He glances at Kaydin, though. Yes, classic, classic Kaydin, as the Fury hisses at him.

Teagen slips in, eyes searching. Sara. She sees Sara. And Vicky. She gives a little wave to Sara and moves to stand next to Vicky, wherever she's at. She's quiet, fingers folded together in front of her

Immediately Julius changes demeanor. He doesn't growl, but his lip does curl distastefully at Kaydin's introduction. His ears lay back in cautious agression,but he calms and looks away as the Guardian behind the albino Gnawer gets all uppity and bitchy. Lots to adress, here, tonight, as things are warming up for the moot. "Sorry, Mocks-the-Darkness-rhya. I'm sad I wasn't there to hear your Accomplishment! There should have been a /big/ party. I'll have to get you a present for it. And yes... the black-white-bear eats, shoots, and leaves, Sara. The preposition I used applies Teagen as Blood-in-the-Street's mate, not you. Are you actually mated to Devlin, the Kin with the food who was here earlier?" Julius looks up at Teagen as the drummer ambles in on her long lanky legs, and stretches out his massive arm to pull her close to his side, still faintly damp in the cold night air, but so warm compared to the night. Vicky is lapped on him, so he's where she wants to be.

Sara is settled by the comforting words, though she does still have a semi-flabberghasted expression riding the corner of her face. Since she hasn't been paired off by mail-order, it's all cool. The Adren gets a respectful nod of her head and the kinfolk steps off to find somewhere not underfoot. She doesn't seem to locate herself with any of the forming groups.. until Teagen walks in that is. Whatever the ties between herself and the others, the girl places herself to the side of Teagen. There's just enough family resemblance to suggest more than a tribal link there.

Kathryn is still dead quiet and very still. She is doing her best to not draw any attention to herself.

Pendar fills the immediate horizon with his giant form. This is his first time attending such a gathering since arriving in Prospect. He is remembered by the guards from the last time he was here. He gives a nod to Julius and the other faces that he recognizes.

Teagen reaches out when Sara approaches, taking Sara's hand and squeezing it tightly between both of her own. She takes a deep breath and just .. sort of stands there for a bit, waiting, tense. Finally, she leans over and whispers in Sara's ear

The Black Fury, path cleared, continues on without another word and parks herself off to one side. And stays quiet for now.

Leandro arrives with Teagen? Maybe a short time after. Either way he makes his way over to her and thus by default Vicky, Jules and Sara it would seem. He says not a word, just stands quietly.

Vicky is hiding in big crinos arms and bundled up against warm, damp fur. It's a good hiding place for her as the crowd starts to gather and the moot starts to rev up. Running her fingers through the silver-frosted fur on Whitethunder's chest, she gives a little squeeze. Glad of the play, but growing a bit nervous.

George is also near that particular group chatting, nodding to Julius before looking around "Well time to start getting read, see you around after."

Whitethunder snaps his head up and grins, his muzzle parting and his tongue flicking out to stretch up and swipe at Teagen's chin. His arm unfolds a little when Sara comes, and he slips a single big finger into her hand, nodding reassuringly toward her, sympathy and empathy on those broad furry features of his. Three girls one Crinos. He's protective, Lording over them, even as George adresses them again. A quickly flashed nod from the Metis, and he is relaxing his grip on Vicky, ready to shoo her off to the outskirts of the moot should the Master of the Howl appear and start things. The Council will be here soon.

With. With is better. Teagen reaches over as Leandro approaches and slides her hand into his, linking her fingers into his much bigger ones. She takes the lick from Whitethunder and even gives him a little smile.

Breath in.. breath out. Sara looks at the woman beside her, though Tea can't be much older than she is.. the look on the younger's face is rather motherly for a moment - in that are you fucking kidding me - kinda way. Maybe the Black Furies accidentally left her on the Fianna porch. Sara rolls her shoulders slowly, then she yanks her hand back as Whitethunder reaches. Yeah. No. Definitely not part of that fan club tonight. She's gives Teagen's had a squeeze before the older kinswoman lets go to take Leandro's hand. The stranger gets a serious head to toe look over.. and a somber, serious nod from Sara.

Whitethunder looks a little hurt, but nods his head, whurfing softly, his hand dropping down to cup only the alpha-bitch's calf as Leandro comes up and takes her hand. Just for Ameia, Julius looks over and growls softly enough for her Lupus ears to have to be paying attention to figure out "And this is Leandro Blood-In-the-Streets, Warrior born of Man, highly-overqualified Cliath of the Glasswalker Tribe."

Ameia pushes to her paws. She studies the three worried looking kin women and tilts her head slightly. She studies them quietly and makes her way over toward the circle, making sure to pass by that little group of people, slinking in between males if she has to she moves past each of the women and each of them gets a little thwap thwap of her tail as she passes them by along their thighs. It's... a strangely comforting sort of gesture, though it can be taken however they wish it of course. She moves over to the south, turning around and sitting at the front of the sort of circle that is beginning to form and she just settles her butt onto the ground and holds her head up with all the bearing of a Queen among her servants.

Ameia tilts her head for a moment, ear cocking and she nods silently to Whitethunder, amber eyes turning to study Leandro as she continues doing what her original pose said and once she settles into her Queenly pose, she nods just once in greeting to Leandro.

Kaydin just puts the calender up and just watches everything. While people seem to be gathering together in some way, the bone gnawer is left alone mostly, away from the group of kin and garou as if waiting for the moot to start.

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

THE OPENING HOWL

Cry-Havoc, an Adren Galliard of the Glasswalkers, has pulled Howls-Through-Broken-Teeth, Mocks-the-Darkness, and Chases-the-Wind aside to discuss with them the purpose of this moot. After a few minutes of conversation, Cry-Havoc steps up to lead the opening howl. Her tones are precise, and clean, and sharp, everything the Iron Riders have been taught to push in their respect for the culture of the other Garou. She's a singer, who's voice is often heard on the bawn from some way away, wordlessly lamenting her lack of nice things, or joyfully celebrating her glad responsibilities to guard the Caern. That pretty voice is bent to the task of opening the moot, tonight, and half way in, as she begins to descend, Howls-Through-Broken-Teeth and Chases-the-Wind pick up the call. Howls-Through-Broken-Teeth adds the fierce, defiant cry of the viking, proud and pure and heartfelt, while the pretty ululations of Chases-the-Wind welcome and encourage the approach of the most outlying and forsaken of Garou. These tones blend together to form a clear, proud howl, that invites the rest of the sept to join in, to add the colors of their tribes to the opening howl.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Teagen offers the faintest of shrugs to Sara as she gets that look and she smiles over at Whitethunder. She still holds Sara's hand, probably a little too damn tight, to be honest. She eyes Ameia for a moment as she's sniffed and offers a faint nod, but then settles down as the opening howl begins.

Tail thump. Sorry

Vicky doesn't /want/ to leaves Jules' lap. Not at -all-. She migrates straight from there to Teagen, sidling up against Teeg's side and pressing close as the opening howl is sung to the sky.

Pendar remains silent as Whitethunder takes most of the "scene". He isn't there to make speeches anyways. Then suddenly the rituals begin. He is quite interested to see how all of this plays out.

Kathryn smiles and watches Leandro and Whitethunder.

Whitethunder scoots Vicky off as Cry-Havoc starts the Moot. The Shadowlord remains in his breed form for the howl, a silent testament to *something* insidious, perhaps, but he moves down to stand just to the right of Ameia, at the low-rank end of the circle. Padding over on all fours he lifts his muzzle and his voice, the dark timbre of the Shadowlord added to the bright clarity of the Glasswalkers and the pure pride of the Get of Fenris, which clashes so wierdly with the beauty and emotion of the Children of Gaia. His own howl is raw and touched with a lifetime of pain, pouring his soul into the cry that echoes across the face of Gaia and shatters the still of the night for miles around.

Mocks-the-Dark raises a creepy and dark sounding howl, not because he's trying to be macabe but that's just how some of the silent striders sound. Its haunting and ethereal, but a dark moonless judgement only the wicked need fear.

Teagen's fingers still linked with Leandro's, she lifts that arm and wraps it around Vicky's shoulders. She got all her peeps now? Yeah. She gots 'em. She'll be okay now.

Ameia stands up as the opening howl begins. When the others are invited to join in, her own cry begins. It is filled with pride, with beauty, with everything that embodies the Black Fury tribe. It is a howl of power, of vengeance against those who would sin against Gaia. A cry of rage against those who would sin against women. A cry of hope and joy and pride at what she is, what she was born to be, what she was born to do. The sound of the rising pitches and the low throaty dips. The howl is at once rage and anger and fury and power, and yet at the same time, it is sensuality, it is beauty, it is female. It is Black Fury.

While the garou all howl, Kaydin remains silent, hands in his pockets as he simply watches the goings on with blood red eyes. He would howl if he could but the voice of the mortal form is nothing but pathetic compared to the howl of garou or lupus. So to keep from insulting the elders, ameia and even Whitethunder, he remains silent and waits for it to get done.

Sara watches, listens.. she's silent in the wake of the powerful and moving voices. She stays at Teagen's side, moving only enough to let Vicky scoot in close to the woman. There's something about her that sets her off as not-quite-one-of the gathered cluster of kinfolk.

Teagen smiles a little at Sara, closing her eyes as the voices of the wolves erupt around here. She takes slow, deep breaths, letting the sounds fill her.

Pascal slips out of his human skin, and into one more suitable for howling: a very well-groomed, very dark grey wolf, decorated liberally with silvery guard hairs. He raises his muzzle, and joins his voice with these people whom he's never met, yet who are, despite that, his brothers and sisters. His own song is of nobility and loss, and speaks of new beginings, all in that clear, practised Galliard tone, even for a Garou as new to the change as he.

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

OPENING HOWL - LITANY TL;DR: Summary at Bottom:

The opening howl dies away, and both Howls-Through-Broken-Teeth and Chases-the-Wind give warning growls, and snap viciously at Kaydin, Leandro, and Julius. They make circles, just a few times, short, sharp howls of derision and warning yelping out before they slide back to take up spaces around the forming circle.

Cry-Havoc steps into the circle and shifts into her homid form, long blonde hair in a tight braid down her back, and raises a feather-clad stick over her head, beads on leather thongs clattering against the lovingly polished wood. This new scepter for the Master of the Howl is an order tracking device, one that ensures everyone KNOWS who is speaking, and when. People who speak without the stick may be bashed with a rock, or another, less ornate stick. "Garou Shall Not Mate With Garou!" the pretty girl cries out, her voice husky and solid. "Lest we forget our kin, and become severed from this world. We do not let them linger in camps, and be treated as property. We must spurn the comfort of our packmates' arms and beds and find love amongst the Kin who's blood purifies us, and gives us purpose. Let no taint seep into the Nation by violating this law!"

George snickers and shakes his head as he stands as Fool to rebuke the Master of the Howl's assertion of the first law, looking her up and down a little indecently "Really? Have you seen yourself lately? Seriously though, the Metis are a guaranteed power asset so call that an acceptable risk for a little fuzzy bumping."

"Combat the Wyrm Wherever It Dwells And Whenever It Breeds!" Cry-Havoc cries out, ignoring Mocks-the-Darkness' argument, but straightening her leather halter-top a little to make sure she's nice and 'covered'. "Lest the infection spread, and our forces be unable to root the rot from the land, the sea, the scar."

George snorts and rolls his eyes about the second law "Commitment to the cause is good! Tactical stupidity really isn't. Fight smarter not harder. Pick battles you can win and grow stronger rather than throwing yourself into a suicidal death trap just because you got a whiff of something foul."

With a pursing of her pretty pink lips, Cry-Havoc smiles sourly at George "Hah-hah, new moon. The Litany commands we Respect the Territory of Another! This does not mean we wet the trees and roll on every issue, but that we let ourselves be known! That we give one another the respect that Warriors of Gaia deserve, and that we remember to call to our Lupine sides! Mark your territory with glyph, and sign, and scent, that each knows the place you call home, and gives you due respect and requests permission to be acknowledged within!

George Mocks-the-Darkness has an answer for everything, and he rolls his eyes and says "Yeah if there was a standard call and response that might work but too many use that law as an excuse to be an asshole. Hiding behind rank and territory as an excuse to exclude and abuse others. I got no time for that bullshit."

Unperturbed by the Ragabash's derision of their law, she continues her recitation and interpretation "Accept an Honorable Surrender. The Litany is clear, and we must remember to act with honor. Do not let your -Rage- cloud your -Judgement-. Be in command of your anger, and allow those who have wronged you to be pushed aside when you have proven your superiority. At the same time, this is not license to show your throat, and then /mouth off/ when you have been beaten. Surrender HONORABLY, or expect to have your throat torn out for being too stupid to live! Those of us of homid birth do well to remember our Lupus cousins. Their contrition is honest, and without pretense, and without condition. Be like them, and remember to simplify your emotions, to be pure in your dealings with your fellow Garou!

George laughs and shakes his head "So if it's not a rage decision does that make it okay? Because man oh man are their some Garou the Nation would be wayyyyy better off without."

Never answer the Fool. The perky, pretty blonde reminds herself as she walks the circle, her little storebought mocassains scuffing the dirt. "Show Your Submission To Those Of Higher Station! We come from wolves, as well as men, and remember to give your respect and your attention to the Garou who have -earned- their renown through deed and example. Learn from your betters, and seek to outdo them. Do NOT fight like hyenas, do NOT argue like children, do NOT throw fits and pout and take your ball and go home. We are at war, people! Learn to take instruction!"

George nods slowly, seeming to agree at first at least until he opens his mouth "So what about when a more senior garou tells you to go do something a particular way but its outside their specialty and you know they're wrong. Obedience needs to make sense thanks."

"The First Share of the Kill for the Greatest in Station." Cry-Havoc leers at Mocks-the-Darkness "Give it up, pup. If your conduct is unbecoming, your elders will take away your toys, and give them to those who can handle them more responsibly. Forget that spirits line your klaive, and it'll be set aside for you to play with when you can remember it's not a toy. All the spoils of war, the wisest will divide, and all the treasures of victory, the glorious shall wield. Try not to bitch about your cut, kay?"

George quirks an eyebrow at that, he's really kind of enjoying this "The best cut should go to those that earned it. Not to a mostly retired rear echelon motherfucker that hasn't seen the pointy end of the stick in a coon's age."

coughcough*'Speaks-for-Justice'*coughcough*'Ironflail'*coughcough* "Scuse me..." Cry-Havoc smirks cheekily at George and flicks her eyes at the Rank Four and Five 'greatest in stations' over there at the top of the circle. They snicker and pretend not to notice George talking, or the Glasswalker's little slip. Then she turns on George and crosses her arms under her rather perky chest. "Thou Shalt Not Eat the Flesh of Humans. ... Got one for that, smartass? Great for making you vulnerable to the bite of the Wyrm, and for making you sick with -yuck-. Any arguments there?"

George gives CH a wide eyed and innocent look briefly before a wicked grin and he nods "Yeah, you prepare anything right you can avoid food poisoning. We just need to cultivate the art of longpork barbecue is all. Meat is meat, all creatures are gaia's children humanity doesn't get a pass just because it has opposable thumbs."

Cry-Havoc goes 'blech!' and makes Yuck-Face at George, turning away from him and shuddering "No one is -ever- kissing you again..." She pauses for a moment and ticks off on her fingers, the slight irreverence might irk some of the old stuffies, but the little chuckles and engagement from the younger Garou makes this a learning experience that might stick. "Respect Those Beneath Ye - All Are of Gaia!" She turns and looks around, particularly outside the circle "Don't forget that we're the shepherds of humanity's flock. We cull the dangerous and diseased, to keep the herd safe. We remember to -thank- our prey, stepping sideways to vocalize our gratitude to the spirit of the departed. We defend our kin, and we don't waste our cubs and cliath on fool's errands. Everyone stumbles, and we must remember to teach as we discipline, and show kindness to those who sacrifice for us."

George snorts and shakes his head at the yuck face "If they really do sacrifice for us and pay attention to the lesson to be learned. Some though are a few whuppings shy of being decent citizens and sometimes a theraputic ass beating is the greatest kindness you can give. Eventually though you gotta cut your losses, some will just never learn." He says pointedly not looking over at Kaydin.

"The Veil Shall Not Be Lifted! Seriously, people. Keep public shifting to a minimum, and reserve your Crinos forms for war with the Wyrm. Especially the Metis who think it's somehow 'their right' to be in your breed form? We don't want another Spanish Inquisition on our hands, and we don't need to be advertising where we frequent with trails of mauled bodies." Pointing out Whitethunder from the crowd Cry-Havoc flashes him wide, meaningful eyes.

George frowns as he responds, does he actually mean it this time? "Not getting sloppy is one thing but hiding from everyone? There are people out there that would join us in our war against the wyrm if we just unbent enough to let them in, There are never enough of us to do all we need to do so why -not- seek alliances."

"Decisions like that are why we have sept -leaders-, Mocks-the-Darknes... not sept 'popularity contest winners'. We let the wisest decide." She gives a little shrug... It's clear what side of Law and Order the Guardian is on, Janet Cry-Havoc Glass has been a Guardian under the Warder's commnand for over a year! She sighs and looks out, her husky voice softening notably "Do Not Suffer Thy People to Tend Thy Sickness. This isn't a call to waste yourself on a cold... it's a call to know your limits. Do not defy the natural cycle by suffering through Alzheimers. Do not tax and torment your kin when cancer strikes you, and ravages your body. When your teeth fall out, and you lose your rage, pass on. Let your strong spirit carry on into the Summer Land and you may counsel with your wise spirit those who remain behind. Show the same respect for each other, and for yourselves, as we do for our -pets- for Gaia's sake. Misery breeds corruption, and to let a mighty warrior fade into a wyrm-shriveled mess is humiliating."

George shakes his head at that "That's like conceding the monkeys are better than use at caring for the elderly than we are, sure there's a lot that they get wrong but just getting older hasn't been a death sentence any time this century. Sure maybe their duties should change but it getting old shouldn't mean they have to die."

Cry-Havoc doesn't feel the need to argue with that assertion, or clarify it in any way. Hell, she likely agrees with it... which is what you get when your Master of the Howl is a Glasswalker. The next two parts she takes in tandem "The Leader May Be Challenged at Any Time During Peace - The Leader May Not Be Challenged During Wartime!" She glances around, pursing her lips tightly "Your pack leaders are not infallible. Your elders are not infallible. There is always an appeal. No legends call our sept home. We are at war, yes, but we are not IN COMBAT. Do not try to pull a fastone on your pack and claim that we are always at war and so you may not be challenged... when the cry of the wyrms approach goes up, it's not time to bicker. When your Alpha makes a stupid plan that's going to get your scout killed, -challenge- his dumb ass. Even if you lose, he might take it more seriously. We pick our packmates in trust, brothers and sisters.... use your common sense and your trust and ask those best suited to your problem for their help."

George narrows his eyes at Cry-Havoc she's really good at this, tying those two together like that makes them harder to assail but not impossible "Sometimes you can't wait till when its 'proper' to challenge, sometimes hardball is the game of the day. If you get new information that has to be acted on immediately and your alpha won't listen? I say don't let their pig-headdedness get your packmates killed. As for when things are quiet? That law's almost got no teeth, there's hardly ever any cause for peacetime challenges and too often the opening of that law gets used for petty bullshit."

Last, but not least. This is probably the stupid-hardest one to challenge, as any argument is pretty much going to get you laughed at. Cry-Havoc clears her throat and intones "Take NO Action, Which Causes A Caern To Be Violated." She looks pointedly over at George "Or pretty much we'll all /fucking kill you/. The Caerns are the soft spots in the Mother's Armor, where the Spirit still touches the Land. Every loss of a Caern is a dagger in the Mother's heart, and we can't let that slide, not ever. Just about any other fuckup can be forgiven, but this one is right up there with playing kickball with a pregnant lady. Seriously. Take... No... Action."

George thinks real hard about that one, its the one line more than any other that must never be crossed. He's the Fool for this moot, its his job to come up with a question so he bends his brain in knots to come up with -something- "Sure but the law isn't take no action that causes a caern to be lost, it talks about violation. And what counts as that? I've had someone tell me that the other -Gaian- Fera can never be trusted and letting them in is a security risk, he'd probably argue that bringing my packmate Keandra out to the caern counts as at least a lesser violation. Screw that."

TL;DR: The Master of the Howl, the pretty blonde Glasswalker galliard Cry-Havoc, has a new talking stick to be used to name those who will speak at the moot. No one speaks without the stick in hand. She recites the Litany, and the reasons it should be followed, while George Mocks-the-Darkness, the Silent Strider Ragabash, gives arguments, and mockeries, for why the Litany should be set aside.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Kaydin remains silent, listening to the arguments and the litany. He simply stood there, hands in pockets as he waits for the topic of the moot to come up.

Mara 'Bane Breaker', the Master of the Rite and the Caller of the Wyld asks each Garou in turn to breathe into a broad ritual bowl she carries. The sweet smelling substance inside is thick as tar, black as night, and smells powerfully of pulverized flowers and herbs. The Caern must be fed, and as Cry-Havoc performs the Litany with George, the wither-legged Uktena witch goes about bringing forth the Gnosis that will restore the Caern for the coming month and renew it's connection to Gaia. Your breath, as you blow over the bowl, takes on the blue-green luminous hue of pure gnosis, brought into the physical realm by the rite.

Julius listens to the Litany, trying to ignore the rantings of the Fool, as accurate as some of his arguments may be, and even narrows his eyes at the comment about 'cats being a lesser violation'. He snorts... and when his turn comes to breathe into the bowl he gives a long, rich exhalation of air, his gnosis thick and strong...

Klenko doesn't participate, hanging around in the back with the rest of the kinfolk onlookers.

Cuddled up against Teagen, Vicky tenses up and pales (can she get paler?) when the wolves circle and snap at Jules and the others. She stuffs her hands deep into the pockets of her dark hoody and turns her focus more to listening than watching, staring at the ground near her feet.

Pascal makes it a point to keep his gaze off the albino in homid, away from the group. He doesn't know what he's done, but he knows he's going to -find out- and soon. Instead, he focuses on the rite at hand, and when Bane-Breaker offers the bowl to him, the lupus-form cub gives what he can. A homid, he's only got a point of it, and with eyes closed, and muzzle half opened, he exhales it away, for Bear.

Kaydin breathes in the vapors of the bowl and breathes out most of the gnosis he had, only keeping enough to be able to secure his shelter later, which pours out for the caern.

Mocks-the-Dark breathes out when his turn comes, giving what breath he's caught to warm brother bear's den in the caern's heart.

Ameia is pretty much still a cub herself, only recently having earned her rank. She doesn't have much to give, but when that bowl comes by, she takes a deep breath and out she blows what little gnosis she has within her. It is offered freely and without question to the bowl-o-goodie juice. That done, she steps back and settles her rear end back on the ground once more, still keeping her head high. The fact that she didn't have ten thousand gnosis to blow means little to her. She gave all that she had and she does so with joy in her heart.

Similar to old man Klenko, Sara does not participate. She watches who does, and she remains both still and silent. She doesn't seem to be nearly as nervous about things as Teagen and Vicky - oddly stoic for the youngest one in the group.

The bowl passes by Teagen and she looks to Sara, giving her a little snug, then over to Vicky for much the same thing.

Pendar has remained silent this whole time out of respect. He lowers his head to show his solemn consideration for the sacredness of the moot.

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

THE INNER SKY

As the last moments of the Litany sink in, Cry-Havoc shrinks down into Lupus with an expenditure of Rage, and cries out the soft, ethereal howl that calls for the Caller of the Wyld. Mara is doing double-duty tonight, as she usually does, filling both as Rite Master and as Caller of the Wyld. Bane-Breaker gestures for Jake Chambers, Bryan Chases-the-Wind, Ameia Wrath-of-Dike, and George Mocks-the-Darkness to take their positions on the compass points.

Beginning in the east, Mara approaches Mocks-the-Darkness, who has donned his human form and a black robe and mask, the pointed face feathered to resemble a black bird. "Crow! We thank you for your wisdom, and we ask that you continue to carry our secrets, that the Wyrm does not find them. That you bring message from one to another, and open our minds to new possibilities, our eyes to new rewards!" George does a little twirling bow and caws, pawing at the long nose of the mask with his curved wrists, clearly pretending he has wings.

Stepping around to the South, she approaches Ameia, leaning close to whisper to the new girl and kissing her on the cheek. She staggers back a few steps on her withered leg and raises her hands, calling out sharply "Fenris! Mighty Wolf who guards our rage! We thank you for our strength, and the nature of our Wolf Side. Your passion fills us, and fuels us, and teaches us to live in the moment, and appreciate the lives we are given outside the war for the Mother's safety!" As she speaks, Ameia struggles down into Hispo form, and snarls viciously. Jerking and leaping as if restrained by a chain, the Black Fury snaps at the air and slavers, coiling and snarling and growling as if enraged. It's all an act, of course, but a -good- one.

Moving to the western side, Jake has adorned a white shawl of sparkling fur, and a sturdy wooden horn rises from a cowled head-dress that covers his eyes. He is in his powerful Glabro form, towering above the homid-shaped Metis. Mara moves close, and the creepy lady kisses Jake on the throat, the lips, and the forehead, just under the horn, nearly between his eyes. "Unicorn, we bless you. We ever thank you for the love and insight you grant to us. Totem of the Children who make this sept their home, you are always welcome." With difficulty, she bows low, her withered leg held out to the side and her arms sweeping out as she totters, the lady metis doing her best despite her inborn taint. Jake bows low in kind, huge and powerful as any stallion.

Finally, to the North, Bane-Breaker hobbles and pauses before Bryan, who wears the fur of a slain bear over his shoulders, his Crinos Form seeming a little incongruent in it's lush white fur. But she raises her hands up to cup his cheeks and feel the scruff of his throat, calling out "Bear! Totem of Healing! Wise one who grants our Caern it's strength, we call to you!" The spectral roar of the totem reverberates from the Caern's heart, and the glimmering blue shape of the totem can be seen, stomping and raising onto hind legs, a full fifteen feet into the air. "Bear we honor you! May you heal our woes, not only physically, but spiritually. Make these broken children whole, and seal an aching warriors troubled heart!"

Bryan throws some stuff into the air and growls, dropping to all fours and turning his back on the circle, then dropping down to nestle on his belly. After all, winter is here, and most of the bears are trying to sleep. Mara meanwhile moves to the center of the circle, and settles down cross-legged. "Rat... clever warrior. We ask your attendance this night. Rat who's eyes are keen, and who's nose is sharp, who looks before he bites. Rat who's son guards our caern faithfully and has for so many moons even I have lost count. Playful rat, desperate rat, come before us and bear witness as we open ourselves to Luna's rage and call upon the passions granted by our spirit forebears!

Skittering, chittering, whispering, a breath touches each and every Garou of the circle, and then the spirit manifests. A rat, the size of a labrador retriever, curls onto the earth beside Mara the Rite Master, and she reaches out to stroke it's head, ofering it cabbage and scraps from the bag at her hip. She bows her head respectfully, and it takes her offering to gnaw, looking about with beady, red-gleaming eyes. Ameia gasps as she, and the rest of the circle turn, and the gleaming silver fur of a horse-sized wolf ripples in the unbral wind, a translucent outline of pure primal fury licking at her ruff and clasping her neck in huge, bone-crushing jaws. She is but a pup in Fenris' grasp. Alas, Unicorn does not appear, but the sky fills with the flapping of wings, and a thousand black birds descend on the trees, roosting, and watching, eerily silent, not a crow or caw from any of them. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Kaydin stands up straighter when Rat is mentioned, and looks to the spirit when Rat appears. Bone gnawers were his family and seeing the Rat Spirit always did bring him out of whatever troubles which plagued his mind. He watches it and remains quiet, taking a breath as he listens to his surroundings.

Whitethunder sits himself quietly on his spot on the circle. He was a Shining One at the last moot, and they didn't actually call down the totems, so he wasn't shown favor... but the appearance of powerful Jaggling servants of the Totem Incarna is both a good omen, and awe inspiring, even after he's seen hundreds of these rites in his lifetime. Seeming chastened, Julius keeps his head down, wondering why -he- was yelped at by the Moon Dancers.

Pascal's eyes are on the spirits, too. Lingering on rat, and then moving to the crows that stay silent and roost in the trees of the cavern. Yet, he keeps his posture carefully neutral, his fur smoothed down, and his ears up and alert.

George stands silent, still and vigilant. Watching the goings on carefully with a look of grim seriousness on his face. He doesn't seem curious or confused at all.

Vicky hasn't seen spirits made manifest like this since before she hit puberty. Seeing them now rouses old memories and she stares before biting her lip and swallowing hard. A big, steadying breathand she goes back to watching that little patch of dirt.

Teagen gives Vicky's hand a little squeeze and closes her eyes for a long moment or two. She's quiet, very quiet

Ameia had shifted to homid once more before taking her place as a Shining One. When she was called upon, her body actually flowed with shocking ease into her hispo form just as easily and smoothly as if she were born to that form. She stands there as the spirit clamps down on her scruff. Her eyes widen slightly in shock. THIS is something she hadn't quite expected! She continues playing her part though so long as she is supposed to do so. The rage she lets out is only half acting, the pull of the moon is strong on her and she lets it roll out of her as she does her duty; yet she holds onto it with careful control. (Until it's time for her to not be doing that anymore or whatever :P)

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

CRACKING THE BONE

Seconds after the birds roost in the trees, Cry-Havok lets out a wierd, ululating cry that modulates up and down the frequency, causing those with sensitive ears to wince away... and then a sharp, loud, YIPE that ends in a gutteral choke, like the breaking of throats or bones. At this point the circle breaks, and Cry-Havoc steps to the head of the circle to pass the talking stick to Speaks-For-Justice.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Mara goes around the circle collecting her Uktena props from the Shining Ones, praising them and giving a little consolation to Jake for not getting a Unicorn to visit. They're pretty rare, after all. As she steps away, Cry-Havok steps out of the way and Anthony Speaks-For-Justice takes the center of the circle. He is the one who will call on those who wish to speak, and order the business of the sept. This is the part where everyone gets to play.

And play they do! The /moment/ the formal call is done, two others leap up to their feet, whirling around toward the outer circle formed by the kinfolk. "These two," the Glass Walker declares, pointing out Vicky while his Fianna companion likewise indicates Teagen, "by their own admission, conspired to murder one of Gaia's own in cold blood!"

Teagen jerks ever so slightly and steps away from Sara and Leandro, holding onto Vicky's hand. She stands tall and straight, but she looks like she's scared out of her mind.

Pendar is shocked to hear that VICKY of all people would be capable of such a thing! Sure he only met her once, but she seems too innocent for that, too young. He frowns and looks in her direction hoping for some kind of rebuttal..

Kathryn looks shocked and seems confused but holds her tongue.

George looks grim and stern and still not at all surprised.

Pascal doesn't know Vicky except as 'the girl who was thrown about like a ragdoll.' His lupine features are still set in careful, genteel neutrality. There's no surprise from him-- yet.

Whitethunder looks ashamed. He hangs his shaggy head and tucks his tail under his butt, squatting on his haunches and glancing over at Vicky. He wants to go to her, or cry out, but once the Philodox are assembled, he should be given his say. Even his ruff lays flat, submissive before the much higher ranked Garou present.

Ameia blinks several times and her eyes turn to stare at Vicky and Teagen in surprise. She doesn't know either of them, but... kinfolk? Conspiring to murder a Garou? She just listens quietly, at least in hispo her expression is pretty well unreadable, except by those who know how to read wolf-faces, that is. Her jaw hangs slightly open. Maybe it isn't so difficult to read her expression, after all.

Tension has been building in Vicky for a while, and hen they call her out, Vicky's stomach drops out like those first free fall moments of a rollercoastr's plunge. It's a sickening, thrilling sensation. She says not a word, giving Teagen's hand a squeeze as she steps forward, bright blue eyes sparkling with a strange kind of excitement. Like the rollercoaster, or the way Jules tossed her in the air before - sometimes it's not climb. Not the -jump-. But the fall that can be so damned exciting.

Sara stands with them, she can't help but feel the eyes when they cast in the direction of Teagen and Vicky. The later of the two remaining linked by a hand-hold until she steps away. Sara's hand hovers there in the air for a moment, if there's any surprise, it's because she's lost the contact.. not the charges. The girl doesn't move, now standing a bit alone.

Owen Blanchard has been here the whole time realy. The bid man, is just quite in his spot, his wrestling championship belt arounf his waist, his arms crossed. HE stays silent and observes.

Kaydin remains silent, watching the goings on. He didnt seem to enjoy this, infact this seems to upset him as others about him and it shows on his face.

Well, that's a whole lot of no denial happening. "Will anyone speak in their defense?" the Fianna asks. "Surely they had /some/ reason."

Kathryn clears her throat and looks around...

There. From the epic sea of silence, a hand moves into the air. It's small and human, looking more like a disjointed arm floating above the back of the two kin's heads. Calloused fingertips, dirty nails, oh it's a Sara. Cause.. she's so eloquent and well spoken and high ranking. An ideal candidate to offer defense.

Under the circumstances, it seems any candidate will do. The Glass Walker turns to Sara, gesturing impatiently: the universal sign for 'spit it out already!'.

George glances over at Sara when she waves and is beckoned to spea....to give testimony. Now George looks a little confused, how is this supposed to work.

That's going to be fun. Sara moves around the other two, and pulls the bandana from her throat, revealing the scar across her throat. It's apparently explanation for why she tugs a notebook from her breast pocket and starts to furiously scribble. The note will be handed to any garou who will willingly take it to read out loud. Any garou but Whitethunder or Kaydin anyways. The note is very short.

The warder passes on patrol carrying a clothing iron at the end of a steel chain.

George will step up to read what Sara writes, still looking all stern and 'just the facts ma'm'

Whitethunder rises to his feet and steps forward, ten feet of Crinos wolf upright and looking proud and firm again. He chuffs softly, but no words yet, until Anthony calls on him from the class.

Leandro also steps forward to wait to be called on

Ameia continues watching quietly, she's eager to hear what the girl writes, but she doesn't say a word or make a sound at all. She merely watches and watches the people stepping forward.

Sara does write a short note, but she attempts to stay the garou for a moment by resting a hand on George's and nodding deferentially to the garou mates now making notice they would like to speak. The choice of course will rest with the new-moon and the sept elders.

Kathryn waits and steps forward without speaking. She quietly awaits acknowledgement,.

George holds the note and looks over to the Elders and quirks an eyebrow to see what order they want to do things in. Leandro, Whitethunder and....Kathryn?

Pascal doesn't make that scramble to step forward with the others. His eyes, though, are still on the kin with the cut throat.

Teagen smiles a little at Sara, then quietly eyes Leandro and Whitethunder. When Kathryn steps forward, Teagen just... blinks. WHO?

Owen Blanchard is like a statue the only movement from the big man is his slow breathing and his eyes moving to each in turn.

Pendar continues to frown. Vicky.. Vicky.. Vicky.. what have you done? But it is not his place to say anything, even if he had something he COULD say to help her.

Kaydin remains silent, patiently waiting for the things happening to happen.

George reads out Sara's testimony faithfully and accurately.

While the writing happens, Anthony exchanges glances with the others, then nods to Whitethunder and Leandro to go ahead in their turns. Anyone else?

Kathryn raises her hand quietly as well.

What George reads is precise and straight forward. Even as he reads it - the girl who's been so stoic now looks very uncomfortable, even ashamed. "I take full responsibility for the act. Teagen acted in what she believed to be my defense. She believed Kaydin-Rhya had raped me and would injury me further if not stopped." Sara nods at George's words and prepares to write more if questioned.

Whitethunder raises his voice, falling into the easy tones of the Garou Tongue in his native Crinos shape. "The Kin acted out of a sense of community, and out of fear. Like any wolf they were motivated to protect their own... Vicky her unborn pup, and Teagen the pack-sister she's taken responsibility for. As we court Spirits for a totem, Leandro has set himself at the head of our nacent pack, and with Teagen as his bitch, it's appropriate for her to gravitate to a position of caretaking and guardianship. The provocation of the Metis in the kinfolk coffee shop and his subsequent retreat behind Vicky was a clear and unmitigated attempt to force me into a frenzy on the heels of his earlier defeat, to somehow gain dominance over me and shame me with the death of our precious kin. Not I, nor anyone to my knowledge, ever claimed Scraps was guilty of forcing himself on another, and I believe her motivations solely to be the primal need to protect herself, and her unborn cub. As Scraps was already punished with the taking of his Wolf, a most severe punishment, she believed that she needed to take that safety into her own hands. I counseled her repeatedly, and loudly, that he had been judged, and that if he continued to affront, more severe punishments would be levied, but she acted on her own out of a mistaken belief that even I wouldn't help protect her from his constant badgering."

Pendar raises a brow. He is glad to hear that the entire affair was not some Wyrm-inspired act of sociopathic rage.

Aaaand THAT is when Pascal turns to Kaydin. He's too proud to let his jaw slacken, but that wtf -look- in his eyes is there. He exhales again, but this time it's frustration rather than spiritual duty.

Leandro takes his turn, if Whitethunder is done. "They have plenty of reason to hate." Leandro voices, "Plenty of reason to wish ill upon the man." he adds, "But there is no doubt the wrong done. Still, I would defend them." he remarks simply. "If they need be defended in challenge, so be it, I would be the kin's champion."

Ameia's claws dig into the earth where she stands and a low little growl begins in her throat. Her eyes snap toward Kaydin, then back to Sara. The hispo just barely manages to hang on to her rage. Thankfully the sound is almost silent, just rumbling and causing her throat to tremble and vibrate. The fur at the scruff of her neck stands up on end, though at Whitethunder's words, she relaxes slightly and takes several deep breaths. Her eyes lift to stare at the moon above and she takes another quick breath, shuddering as she looks back to those in question... a slight curling of her lip in a silent snarl as her eyes turn to stare at the metis. It took a moment for her brain to jump from rape, to endangering a pregnant kin... which is almost as bad as rape in the young Fury's eyes.

Kaydin cant help but give a silent scoff at Whitethunder's explination. Infact he looks to the elders to see if they believed his lies before he simply waits his turn to speak. Oh he wanted to speak, if anything just to say how wrong they were.

Owen Blanchard 's face shows a frown as he continues to listen. The big man not likeing any of this it seems.

"Not true!" Who's that? Oh, it's a spirit that popped in for the occasion. "Heard that one" (Whitethunder) "call that one" (Kaydin) "a rapist! Was there!"

Leandro stands with a frown and steps forward as if he has something he might want to say.

The warder passes on patrol carrying a clothing iron at the end of a steel chain.

Kathryn is waiting quietly and is watching what is going on with furrowed brow.

Vicky stands quietly, hands in her pockets. Things are in motion, sliding fast, faster. A dark sort of curiosity in her gaze as she watches and listens. With everything to lose, there's naught left to do but watch. And wait. And anticipate.

Anthony eyes the Spirit. "Said it about her?" Sara. But the spirit, having said its piece, has already taken back off for parts unknown. With a shrug, he nods to Leandro next.

Teagen grabs Vicky's hand, squeezing it tightly. She shakes her head, very VERY quietly murmuring to her.

Whitethunder snaps at the spirit "HUSH Gaffling. Ignorant little scar-addled wisp. The Grand Elder is the Truth Catcher for this moot, *NOT* you. Now scamper, or I'll gobble you up and breathe your essence back into the caern. Shoo." Another snarl from the ten-foot Crinos, Gaia's Judge snapping dangerous jaws again and taking a threatening step forward. How a dinky little gaff like that can speak a language anything here understands is boggling. That's why the likes of Anthony Richards -have- gifts like Truth of Gaia and Roll Over. "I recall saying something close, but -not- that he was a rapist. He isn't, and if that was what came out of my mouth, it wasn't intentional. The evidence, actually, is to the contrary." Whitethunder glances over his shoulder and nods at Kaydin.

When Whitethunder looked to him, Kaydin just scoffs more. seems to move from one foot to the other, anxious to talk it seems and he waits for his chance to. It seems right from the get go, the shadowlord has said something to which the bone gnawer completely disagreed with. How shocking.

Pendar hopes Vicky is innocent but.. now Kaydin? Seriously? Everyone is growling at Kaydin now and it is only too apparent that he is now a suspect. He knows that -someone- is going to get the axe this night. There is no way around it. Justice must be served.

She's looking a little sick to her stomach as Anthony looks at her. The young woman who's standing beside George is still holding her pencil, but not moving it without leave. There are, after all, many here who outrank a kinfolk, and have more rights to 'speak.' Sara watches and listens - so much rage under a full moon - it's enough to make a kin edgy even when she might not be the target of the inquiry. There's something about what Whitethunder says that causes her face to screw up like she's bitten a lime. The young kin wears her heart on her sleeve in more than a tattoo, she's pale, a little trembly, and yeah just not looking so hot.

"Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but she doesnt look too good. Perhaps she should be allowed to sit or rest somewhere?" Kaydin says with sincere concern for Sara as he knows he will be chided for speaking out of turn for this.

Pascal regards the non-verbal kin again, his eyes going from the spirit who just popped in, and back to her. The metis's yelling at the 'scar-addled' thing doesn't get much of a regard from him.

George reaches over to put a hand on Sara's shoulder steadying her and gesturing at her pad, not speaking himself but for her if she has something else she needs to say, throwing an Adren's weight behind the scared kin's words.

"They have plenty of reason to hate." Leandro voices, "Plenty of reason to wish ill upon the man." he adds, "But there is no doubt the wrong done. Still, I would defend them." he remarks simply. "If they need be defended in challenge, so be it, I would be the kin's champion. I dont know anything about him raping anyone or not raping anyone... I do not condone or endorse the kin's action but they are /my/ kin and I will defend their honor if necessary."

Others are noticing the same thing Kaydin did, and moving to help George get her settled. Meanwhile, another grizzled old elder squints at Kaydin, pantomiming having his hands bound behind his back. Remember that guy from last month? Sure you do.

And speaking of Kaydin, that Black Fury from earlier looks about ready to hop up on her feet and interrupt as well, only for Anthony to gesture to her with one hand. "You," he says to Kaydin. "We'll come to your actions in a moment, but-- these two. Did they believe as their mates say they did?"

Pendar watches Vicky with a concerned look and then raises a brow at Kaiden for speaking out of turn -again-.

Sara does what George has asked, writing out her words in frantic shorthand. She's writing as she's helped off her feet, as Leandro speaks, as Anthony asks questions. Her fingers have got to be cramping by the time she hands George the two page note.

That older black fury isn't the only one who looks about ready to tear into someone... Ameia is having a HELL of a time keeping herself still and silent. She's clawed little potholes in the ground under her front paws as she works to keep hold of her bubbling, boiling, frothing rage. She holds herself steady though, still snarling softly. Her rage ebbs and wanes like the tide rolling in and out as suspicions are raised about rape and abuse of the kin and then pushed back again only to be raised again. She's going to dig herself to China by the end of the moot for sure.

George takes a few moments to read the pages before he starts reciting it "I participated in questionable actions that led to my being tainted. Kaydin-Rhya located me after I injured another kin - partly in self defense and partly in wyrm-induced rage. He surprised me and I brained him with a steel reinforced 2 by 4, causing very serious injury. He knocked me out and tied me up. He made stupid comments and would not call my family. I was afraid he was going to kill me or rape me."

George takes a deep breath to steady himself before continuing "Teagen was alerted by Devlin I was missing from my job at the Prospect police department and from home after 24 hours. She used a Gaia-given power to read my mind. She had every reason on finding me to believe I had been raped, abused, and tortured by Kaydin, because she could feel everything I felt. I am ashamed that my stupid actions led to this point, and that my shame about being afraid resulted in sept members thinking I was injured by Kaydin-Rhya when I was not physically hurt. I do not believe I was ever at risk of being hurt by him. I was asked in great detail by Whitethunder-Rhya what occurred, when he came to my home as a half-moon on behalf of the sept. He was aware I was afraid, and what Teagen had understood from my emotional state, but also made aware that I was not raped."

"I think my exact words - regretfully disrespectful, were Kaydin is stupid, but he cares about kinfolk. He would never have hurt me. Teagen and I never got to have this conversation. If I had made sure it happened, we would't be standing here tonight."

Owen Blanchard hmms a bit softly to himself nodding bit t Sara's words that George recites. The big man looks impressed at the woman's words.

Whitethunder nods firmly at Sara. "All veracity was sought, and Scraps had already been punished for the transgression. That issue was over. Robs-the-... Vicky? Come up here please?" Julius beckons to the small pale brunette, those two inch amber claws curling as he gestres for her to come nearer. "Will you tell the elder why you did it? Can you put your feelings into words?"

The others are helping to comfort the frightened and regretful kinwoman, especially George, but Pascal still gives her another dip of his head, in aknowledgement for her giving her account. He doesn't glance at the albino metis, afterword. His eyes go to the 'ragdoll' kin, Vicky.

Kaydin just sighs as he speaks. "While he may believe it to be the truth, I am afraid it is not. The most truthful part of it I am afraid was he, his mate and myself were in a coffee shop, ran by a kinfolk. Did I argue back with the man? Yes, he was insulting me in a place where I was welcome and I stood up for myself. When he made the comment I was a filthy Metis, I commented that if that is what I am, then he is as well, since we are both of that breed. The man then charged after me. Now, I grew up on the street. I know if I am going to argue, be willing to back it up once it becomes physical. The kinfolk in question tried to escort him out and I tried to grapple him and was succeeding in trying to drag him out with the aid of a Ratkin friend of mine."

"It was then, for no reason, he shifted to Crinos form, in a public place with normal people inside. His mate then proceeded to hide under a table, safe from harm. He then threw me into the back wall. Now...Despite the fact I am dealing with a crinos in broad daylight with people around, he knew I couldnt shift, because I had not even rage to be able to defend myself. Using a gift I learned from a fear spirit, I made the man cow and go to a corner. Me and my ratkin ally then proceeded to try and leave out back, with the hope he would follow if he truely was frenzied. I was then told, after I left, a kinfolk trying to calm him was hit with a heavy table and dealt serious injury. The owner, then proceeded to the basement to gather the footage of the video cameras which recorded this. After he knocked out the other humans, his frenzy left him clear headed enough to run down into the basement, and forced the owner to delete the footage. What he didnt know however, was she copied it all to a small stick which used by human computers, will show the entire incident.She has given me this stick, and I would gladly turn this over to the elders should you wish it."

Kaydin then took a breathe. "After this incident, somehow, Vicky believed I am a threat to her child and considering the blatant refusal to learn the truth from teagen, both women conspired to put me down. I got up, trying to track down vicky and julius to tell them a black spiral escaped from a failed attack to Klem's place in the city. She responded, angrily, but I have come to expect that from her. It was then I caught a brief glimmer of a sight and tried to dodge what I heard was a gunshot." He says before raising his shirt. On his abdomen was the ahroun symbol with a large bullet hole through the circle. "She got me with her first shot. I then tore into the umbra before she could get a second chance." He says calmly.

Kathryn stands and says "I am not aware of this situation but I would like to attest to Vicky's character as I am aware of it. I am new here a cub far away from my family and the kinfolk and packs that I grew up with. Vicky went out of her way to invite me into her home with her mate and treat me with respect and kindness. If she acted it was in defense of her home and cub. I don't believe she is malicious enough to deliberately and without provocation do harm to one of Gaia's own."

When it's Teagen's turn, she steps forward. "No. There were no angry words spoken between Kaydin and Vicky that day." She takes a breath and lets it out slowly. "When Kaydin came out of wherever it was he was sleeping, I called to him. I drew him into the open. He ran toward me and I held out my hands to tell him to stop. Then Vicky took her shot. Then he went into the umbra. The difference is small, but rather significant." She looks at Kathryn briefly and continues. "I have judged Kaydin in his deeds and his actions. Incorrectly? Perhaps. But when he kidnapped my cousin and tried to justify it and worm his way out of it with pretty words and weak excuses, and he seemed to have learned nothing from his punishment here last month, yes, I was willing to go with Vicky and make sure that she and her cub were protected."

Owen Blanchard looks to the elder, to say something, waiting patiently.

<OOC> WhoopingCrane says, "Meanwhile, anyone with a log of the 'WT frenzies in public' scene, please copy+paste it to http://pastey.cityofhopemush.com/ and page me the resulting URL. (Some gossipy spirit would have seen something.)"

<OOC> Kaydin doesnt know if anyone logged it.

Owen Blanchard pulls out his umbra phone, and says to the elder "I have an umbra phone fetish here with me, if you need to use it to view the thumb drive information I will work it for you.

Whitethunder nods firmly at Kathryn. She, at least, is a Philodox. Julius turns on Kaydin and, mouth agape, listens to him talk... when he's quite finished, the Shadowlord growls "You're out of line, Ahroun. We're not talking about me. We're talking about Vicky and Teagen. There's no argument that they did what they did, or that it was wrong. The only question is their motivation. Listen to the Philodox talk, and -wait your turn-." He shakes his head ruefully and huffs at the albino, turning away and so disregarding his words that he doesn't even adress them "What they did was wrong... wrong on the level of a Skin Dancer hunting for flesh. But it wasn't born of maliciousness, it was born of fear and stupidity."

<OOC> Teagen says, "There is a log"

<OOC> Whitethunder says, "Again, that is NOT how it works."

<OOC> Whitethunder says, "DO NOT refer to the logs during a trial. That's blatant metagaming."

<OOC> Whitethunder says, "There are no spirits watching all the time... you have to use your gifts and your judgement to unravel the situation."

<OOC> George coughs and points at +rules +renownreq

<OOC> Kaydin says, "dont exist"

<OOC> Kaydin says, "where is the log"

Pendar merely continues to listen at this point as more facts come to light.

Vicky watches, thinking, listening. She's not the fastest thinker, no, but she's a -good- thinker once she gets up a full head of steam. She's had her time to wallow, to fall apart, and to gather herself back into one piece since the night in question - the play with Julius earlier as centering as hours spent in quiet thought, bringing clarity and purpose back into focus. Beckoned forward by her 'mate', she moves forward and wraps the fingers of her small hand around a single claw in the way a child would hold the index finger of an adult. A flick of focus to Kaydin, but she lets it slip over her like oil on water - untouched. Fly or fall, she's waiting for the right moment to snap her wings open and see how much gravity will take of her.

"I do not regret what I have done; I regret my failure. My weakness. I regret not trusting my -mate- enough to go to him with my fears. I regret dragging my packsister and alpha-bitch into this. Sometimes, it really is better to ask forgiveness than to beg permission." Her voice is soft, her posture tense and tight, but there's no anger - she lost that in the shattered, snot-and-tear soaked moments after the bullet was loosed. "All thse gathered know how Kaydin violated my person on the bawn. A rat got into our tent and Jules ate it. I have no stomach for that and I stuck my head out of it to puck. Kaydin-rhya grabbed me by the neck and yanked me out of the tent. Over a rat. Julius shifted and caught him in a Stare Down. Kaydin-rhya lost it. Lost it in a way I have only seen on the face of the Spirals that tore my family apart in Monticello. For this, Kaydin was stripped of his wolf."

A pause, let it sink in, gather her thoughts. Like weaving lines of code to make a program, she tries to weave the pieces together for understanding from those gathered. "There were other encounters. Other clashes. It is known that Julius has struggled with his rage. I seem to be his undoing, rousing his protective nature. And now Hush is here." Likely the pup (Hush Puppy, get it?) in her belly. "It came to a head when we were in the cafe. Jules and I were at a table, discussing our plans for the day. From the moment he walked in, Kaydin was talking smack like a troll on a forum board. Throwing out challenges, saying they needed a rematch - because the two nearly killing each other on the bawn was not enough to prove to Kaydin who the bigger wolf was. Jules was holding himself together better than *I* would have, and I am not blessed by the Moon." Still, she watches just those meant to judge her, not impassive, just carefully neutral - facts as she sees them. "Because of the way Kaydin treated me on the bawn. How he treated Sara, I cannot fault Jules for lashing out when Kaydin touched me after provoking my Mate with his words. Still, he did not frenzy or give in to the rage."

"I look at Kaydin and see a wolf that is only going to cause problems. He seems to have found joy in taunting Jules and putting myself and Hush at risk of being torn apart. When he provoked my mate and stood behind me like a COWARD..." She does not shout, but allows a hard, bitter edge creep into her voice, "... it was the final straw. The punishment the Elders levied did nothing. He is now -wolf-. He is a -rabid dog-. There is no cure for what is wrong with him if he thinks his behavior is acceptable in any way."

"So I got a rifle. And I got some silver. Because he will get someone killed. Me? Hush? My mate? An innocent? Why wait for it to happen?"

<OOC> Whitethunder says, "Renown is renown is renown, but the spirits in the scar are HOSTILE to us, and they do not 'sit and witness and tattle'. A spirit has to be awakened to even have the presence of mind to observe its surroundings, and -then- it's colored so heavily by it's type that it's 'words' are meaningless gibberish to those who don't have the gift of Spirit Speech. We are not robots. We have the ability to lie and politic. 'Seeing the log' and making your decision from that is *extremely* bogus. It's bad RP of the worst kind. Seriously, I'm from an entire tribe of plotters and schemers. If every single thing we did was reported during the moot, do you think there'd be a freaking Society of Nidhogg? They may report you renown, but the -events- are colored by experience and interpretation, and the Garou have to unravel those. Thats why we -have- philodoxes."

<OOC> WhoopingCrane says, "I'll accept that, as far as it goes. That said? I'm staff. I'd like to OOCly double-check the truth so that I know who /is/ lying, and /then/ I can privately roll their Man+Subterfuge or whatnot."

<OOC> Whitethunder says, "-That- is totally fair. :p"

Vicky receives some nods: some sympathetic, others less so. Her feelings seem clear, regardless of who agrees or disagrees with them.

There's some brief conferring - a low snarl, a dirty look; the NPCs are /also/ tightly wound balls of anger, after all - before the sentence is pronounced. "These cousins of ours believed themselves cut off from us. Until the moon is full again, they /will be/, and so will they learn the difference."

Whitethunder whimpers and bows his head. Fair. Not nearly as bad as it could have been. Julius backs down submissively from Speaks-for-Justice and lays back his ears and flicks his tail up under his carriage.

Kathryn stays quiet and gives the kinfolk a sympathetic look.

Teagen blinks back tears and lowers her gaze toward the ground, taking a step back, seeking to pull Vicky with her if she'll come. No argument, no dirty looks, no eye contact

Pendar frowns as the sentence is passed. He give Vicky a sad look and sighs softly.

Sara has no parting wave for the two she 'spoke' for, no goodbyes at all. After the sentence is passed, she looks to George in silence, head slightly cocked to one side. The girl's still less than the picture of perfect stoicism. She's not looking nearly so pissed as the full bloods, not as sad as a few of them either. Mostly she just looks - abashed, tired, and ready to leave.

Pascal watches them start to leave. Then turns his head to the remainder: Jules. Especially as he folds his ears, and seems to take it submissively. Then the prim cub wearing his wolf skin goes to settle on the moss under his paws.

Whitethunder freaks out a little. How is he supposed to look at Vicky and say to Gaia 'I have no such lover'. She bears a cub, ostensibly his. Her flesh is -carved with his name-. His only scent is of her. This is... exquisitely painful torment. It stabs him in the guts... a whole new pain. To be not forcibly seperated, but to be required by his honor to *renounce* her? The rage in him boils up in protest, and only iron will keeps him from lashing out violently. And even then, as he weeps, as tears gather and spill from amber eyes, he faces his so-called 'mate' and says the words. Not the loving 'mine', but the hoarse and ragged "GAIA! Vicky Starks, called Robs-the-Senses, and Teagen... Of all Gaia's children... I have no such lovers... no such sisters." All present must say the words, all present must shun them, as Speaks-for-Justice leads the rite.

Kathryn quietly but loud enough to be heard says the words...

"Vicky Starks, Teagen, I do not know you." Kaydin says softly. While his pain is not as great as Whitethunders, the pain of losing two sisters in his eyes was painful enough to indeed cause a tear to fall. He turns away finally, wiping his eyes.

Kathryn has very little emotion about this situation. Must be the Philodox in her that keeps her distant.

Vicky blinks at the sentence and her jaw flexes. Big breath in. Big breath out. She glances at Jules, then shakes Teagen off with a roll of her shoulder that runs down her arm to snap her wrist out of Teagen's grip. Paling until she looks more ghost than pale kinfolk, she just focuses on breathing, swaying faintly. Feet are spread to brace herself up. Severed of her mate for a moon. They can't hardly stand to be a day away from each other. She's okay. Finding that center, focusing on what she has. Hush. Until Julius speaks. Ever see a bird in flight falter and fall? Those delicate bones shattering on the ground? That cultivated calm bends and breaks. shoulders slump and hands flex uselessly - wanting to do something to fix it, but there's naught to be done. Chin dropping, her dark hair falls across her face. Protect the cub. Get shunned. Deep breath. Hands clench into tight, hard fists until the knuckles creak from the anger. The hurt. Explosion isn't her style. Tears slip down her cheeks and she Just. Keeps. Breathing. And finds that center, expression faltering before steadying. Hate.

Pendar is not Garou, but he is of the Bear, the very spirit in THIS place, "Vicky Starks, Teagen, once adopted daughters of my Father Bear, I do not know you." That was the first time that the Gurahl spoke. The ruling of elders is the ruling of elders, no matter WHAT breed of Gaian they are. His loud, gruff, North German accent says the words without emotion.

Owen Blanchard does as he s told when it is his time, steping back watching this whole goings on.

Ameia shifts back smoothly to her homid form so that she may speak the words. She doesn't know these two, but... saying the words is hard for her as well, the thought... the knowledge that she can not know these two, not for an entire month. She finds it very difficult, a total newbie to this sept and having to help renounce one of this sept. She utters the words with a softness and a sadness. And she turns as the others before her, fingers gripping at her sides as her head droops. Perhaps she shouldn't feel so awful about this, being a total stranger, but they're women... even if they're kin... it wounds the fury to turn her back on the pair. She can't look at the large crying metis. Her eyes close tightly. She can empathize.

Teagen is shaken off, but she stays near. Just in case. They only have each other now, right? Something like that. Hell will be loosed later, no doubt, but for now, she just stands there with her sister, not bothering to fight the tears, but holding back as much emotion as she can. She doesn't look up, doesn't recoil from the voices that shun her. She understands. Though it pains her, she bears it well.

Pascal says the words. They lack the flair that his Auspice usually shows. He, like the Glass Walker, appears stoic. "Teagan Riley, Vicky Starks, I have no such kin."

Once the rite is complete, Anthony looks around to see if anyone else has a grievance to air. And they do. A lanky Bone Gnawer - salt in his pepper, sweat soaked into his coat - cre-e-eaks up to his feet, pausing as he's being recognized to make sure he still has his balance. "Tell us," he says to Kaydin, "about these Rippers."

Ah. Ahroun business. Julius shakes his head and turns to go find his place in the circle, sitting down beside Ameia again and curling his knees up to his shoulders, dipping his shaggy head down between them and wrapping his arm around his head. His other hand trails lazily in the loam, flicking and drawing absent symbols as he retreats inward a little bit, devastated.

"The Rippers were discovered to be Vampires, atleast two of them were." Kaydin says calmly. "Two willworkers killed one of them when he attempted to form claws and kill one of the ratkin allies. While I have no love for these leeches, there was no chance to properly defend himself, the willworker reduced the creature to ash. I was told the next night, after I left for the evening, the second one came in and killed four mortals, a kinfolk mentally traumatized because she was covered in their blood. The night after that, the two willworkers, hired by the kinfolk who runs the place, killed him when he came to kill her. At this time I believe the rippers are either no more or are leaderless. I can investigate should the elders wish it." Kaydin says softly, trying to regain his composure. "I just wanted the truth to be heard...and if I could take their punishments I would." He says softly.

Ameia shifts her position slightly toward the devastated crinos. Her eyes drop to the ground and she just sits quietly, sighing. She mirrors his position, drawing her knees up to rest her chin upon them as a little frown touches her lips. WHAT a thing to have to take part in on your first moot in a new town.

And now, truly alone, Sara moves away from the others. She doesn't follow after the departing kin, but sits on a loamy patch of grass, hands settling into her lap as she watches the ground in front of her. Presumably listening to the others speak. Definitely listening to tell by the way she twitches when Kaydin adds the last bit.

Pendar approaches WhiteThunder as quietly as he can at his massive size, and frowns, nodding in sympathy for his new friend.

"Oh, no no no no no." The older Bone Gnawer's tone of voice remains low, but calm? Hardly. "Tell us how you were going to /let them in/."

"I didnt know at the time they were vampires and I was hoping to solve things peacefully on the first night. However it disolved into a conflict and the first ripper, the leader was killed." He explains. "I was going to let them come into the cafe and keep a close eye on them, even willin to throw them out myself should something happen. In the end, I got a machete to my shoulder and learned what they truely were."

Whitethunder still flicks his ears. He slides his hand out and squeezes the lower part of Ameia's leg, his huge hand big enough to grip her by the torso and chuck her little homid bod like a javelin into the treeline. Just that reaffirming squeeze, though, as she comforts him with her nearness. She's a nice lil ahroun woobie! While Julius may have hidden his eyes, he has ears like a bat, and a nose like a mole, his semi-secret and hard-to-spot metis deformity meaning that when Pendar is approaching, the Shadowlord knows not only where he's standing, but who he is. He doesn't look up, though. Pretty shattered.

Ameia lifts her arms and crosses them under her knees, hugging her thighs against her chest, simply listening silently to the remainder of the moot. She glances over at White for a moment, then looks back to the ground in front of her with a soft sigh. Her eyes do finally turn toward Kaydin for a moment and she shakes her head slightly.

Mind spinning on empty, it takes a while for Vicky to relize she has to move. To go. A glance towards the shared den space and she shakes her head faintly. Leave it. There's nothing she can't live without or replace. Using her sleeves to wipe the snot and tears away, she turns and starts down the familiar path. Already making a list. She likes lists. Simple things. Things to do. Nice and neat and orderly. Ignoring Teagen, if Teeg follows, that is, she just lets her feet carry her, stumbling in her clutzy, city girl way without the nightsight of the wolves to see every tree root and rock. She's noisy in the woods; noisier now.

Pascal is still keeping his mouth shut. This time he's listening more keenly. Vampires. Yes, of course they exist. His ear flicks at the story.

Ameia doesn't seem bothered by the metis' grip on her ankle, even when it becomes almost painful. She bears it easily without even the slightest change in her sad expression. She almost looks toward the retreating kin, but she catches herself and quickly snaps her eyes toward the ground once more, staring a hole in the spot where she'd left large divots in the dirt while things were being spoken of. She keeps her thoughts to herself, though she continues to listen to the rest of the moot. Pascal, standing so near gets a faint nod of recognition before she looks between those speaking with quiet interest.

"Oh. So /that's/ how it is." The Bone Gnawer turns back, addressing the elders now. "These gang members have a history of brutal violence, but as long as they're /not leeches/, well, that's all right, then. /I/ see how it is." Shaking his head, he stalks off to rejoin a larger group of his fellows.

There's another conference among the elders before a familiar patch of fur is brought out. "This belongs to you," Anthony explains to Kaydin, handing it to him. And then a shiny metal-- well, if it isn't a klaive, at least the design looks to have been inspired by one. "And until the next full moon, so does this. Do /try/ not to lose it."

Owen Blanchard watches this and links a bit at this. He has to stop and rub his eyes, did he hit his head.

Kaydin takes the fur and the shiny object. He then bows his head. "I thank you, I will not lose this." He says as he looks it over.

Owen Blanchard 's brow stays raised, as he studies this going on. The big man wondering what the hell the Elders have in mind but he keeps silent, for now.

Ameia tilts her head slightly and a little smile touches her lips. Apparently she finds whatever it is that Kaydin is holding amusing, or interesting or something. The smile fades after a moment and she lowers her face to rest it against her knees as she sighs once again softly.

"If I may ask...what is this?" He asks as he feels his rage surge back and he gives a primal grunt.The glowy blue tip catches his attention more so Kaydin looks it over.

Teagen leaves out with Vicky.. or... behind her, anyway

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

STORIES AND SONGS

NOTICE Members who want their stories and songs sung should have short versions to blast here as we've done for these setting poses, or should have links to logs to let people have a glance at the story logs posted on the wiki. This is an entertainment and teaching portion of the moot, and just about anyone, but ESPECIALLY the Galliards, should be eager to get the talking stick here. Stories told during moots are worth renown!

Cry-Havoc is passed back the stick, and she cries out joyously, excited to have a chance to tell the story of her sept's founding. After a twenty minute tale, pantomimed to rather humorous results by part of the Guardian Pack, she passes off the stick to Bryan, who tells the story of the tainting of the waters of the island, and the great manifested bane, or 'Transformori' defeated there. It's a harrowing action tale of great glory gained and a serious threat put down by the teeth and claws of packless garou working together with the smashing tail of a dinosaur Mokole, and the wild reckless bravery of a kinfolk.

As Chases the Wind turns to hand the stick back to Cry-Havoc, the Moot's Wyrm-Foe, another of the Guardians, named Run-Or-Die, an Ahroun of the Children of Gaia, cries out suddenly, his lupus-form howl long, robust, and LOUD. It's time! TIME TO REVEL! Passions run hot under the full moon, and the Wyrmfoe's call is the sign for EVERY garou to change, and run... Everyone begins the hunt in Lupus form, and even Ironflail, Speaks-for-Justice, and Bane-Breaker shift to join immediately in the Revelry Howl. They'll run beside you all, from cub to elder, to cleanse the bawn of any hint of danger, and to scour the surrounding protectorate as well, under the Wyrmfoe's guidance. It is not a pack action... but a whole SEPT, swarming as wolves into the night.

                 ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^