Such dark hopes.

[flint_garou]

~There is good for you to do down there, if you should choose to do it. But it is dangerous, and you shall have to be very brave.~

7 June, 2012
The moon is in the waning Full (Ahroun) Moon phase (80% full).

It's a cool summer's night, and rain falls gently on the empty grey beach. The full moon is a pale disc in the thick clouds above. The lake water drifts in and out slowly, caressing the sand. The island is black in the distance.

After spending the night out at Thunder Cave in preparation for the rite and what comes after it, the Shadow Lord Ahroun makes her way in lupus to the appointed meeting place. Seeks-Raging-Water gives the bawn a wide berth on the trip, given its current state in both the Umbra and the realm.

Following his Tribesmate, Steel Arrow is likewise in lupus. However he hadn't stayed at the cave overnight. Instead he'd chosen to catch up and accompany her through the woods to the meeting site.

A rather sizable, horizontally, figure-eight drawn with rocks smoothed by water and time is prominent upon the small beach front. It lays between the Godi ritualist and the water, and is large enough to contain two Crinos in each the two loops of the symbol. In one loop, sand somehow bleached white, has been used to fill it in. Black sand, dark as coal and obsidian on a moonless night, fills the other.

In Reflection's crinosed hand, a single tied loop of an ivy rope hangs loosely, gently being teased by the breeze. In his other out stretched hand, a significantly giant wooden bowl filled almost to the brim with clear water, sparse local herbs floating lazily on the surface.

Reflection's Howl has his eyes closed, but somehow he has a sense of being quite capable of seeing what occurs around himself.

Along the beach from another direction, Requiem makes his way as well, in lupus more out of convenience than any other reason. The slightly scrawny lupus form of the Glass Walker is wet with rain, but quite clearly, he doesn't seem to care, putting on a slight amount of speed when the Get and his packmates come into view, then slowing down to walk, shifting up to crinos as he does so.

Seeks-Raging-Water matches Requiem and Reflection in the warform as she draws close to them, the Ahroun remaining silent lest she disturb the Get Theurge and his preparations, patiently awaiting instructions.

Steel Arrow draws himself into hispo as he comes up alongside the Ahroun. Requiem is given a look of acknowledgement and greeting, the Get regarded with a little more reserve.

As the others arrive, the Godi suddenly speaks with power and control to his tone, ~In each of all things, there is light and shadow. To an single Garou, or the pack as a whole, this is true. Balance, means not to be in equal proportions at all times, for this is folly. The shadow and the light are never so. Helios burns away secrets and Luna embraces the mystical places. Yet, there is always a choice, for us mortals beneath them.~

Here the Theurge regards Seeks-Raging-Water and gestures towards the white sand.

As the Shadow Lord takes her appointed place, the Fenrir nods. ~Then, there is always a point, where the righteous flame meets the concealing shadow and they dance.~ He stares now at the point in the very center of the figure before them all, and points out towards Requiem, completing a gesture towards this point.

Requiem twists his ears forward and nods, taking careful steps to the place where he is pointed to go, and shifting his weight for a moment one foot to the other before he manages to quell the nervous energy that's had him fidgeting, and settle.

As Requiem arrives to his point, the Godi directs him to have one foot in the light and one in the darkness.

Finally, the Godi turns to Steel Arrow and eyes the Ragabash with intent. ~Then there is the shadow itself. From within it, we glean great mysteries to carry upon our spirits. We complete the turning of all circles with a return to the darkness, from which we will once more rise and howl.~ The Godi gestures for the Ragabash to stand in the dark loop of the figure.

Steel Arrow briefly meets the Godi's gaze, ears twisting forward with interest while the elder Garou speaks. His head bows slightly, and wordlessly he moves into the dark half of the figure.

All pieces in place, the outstretched arm that has this whole time bore the bowl of herbed water is held out at a point which all three Garou can see the smooth reflecting surface of the liquid. The loop of ivy is held over the bowl and with a deft twist of his hand, the Godi lays it out in a figure eight over the water. ~Nothing ends, nothing begins. All is. We too, are a part of this. The unbreaking circle, no matter how you twist it, always returns back to the beginning. The pack is a symbol of the unbreaking infinite. For within the pack… all is one, and everything possible. In the waters it waits, and it has such hopes for you three.~

A lupine grin comes over the somber Fenrir's muzzle as a sense of electricity seems to almost crackle in the air just within the figure, making hair of the Garou within stand on end… something has been done, something is different.

The Godi concludes, ~Cross over and see for yourselves.~

Seeks-Raging-Water reaches over to put a hand on Requiem's shoulder, offering a nod of encouragement to Steel Arrow, who's out of easy reach, before she begins to study her reflection in the bowl and eventually—though likely not until after the others—fading from view.

Requiem too looks to study his reflection in the water in the bowl, reaching to cross over with concentration, and a faint grin.

Steel Arrow follows the other two, a look into his own reflection passes him into the gauntlet and through to the other side.

As the three are fading off to the other side of the Gauntlet, the Godi's voice cracks as he speaks once more. ~Then again… some things have such dark hopes.~

The Gauntlet down here on the empty beach, already the meeting place of two worlds, is thin and fluid, but even still Seeks the Raging Water to Silence Her Strike and Carves the Requiem for Cockroach's Children have to push through it slowly, feeling their way through like the blind. When they finally join Steel Arrow Cannot Be Turned on the other side, the light that greets them is brilliant, spilling down from a massive moon, reflecting off the lake like glass. There are no clouds, no rain here. Luna in all her glory paints a landscape of white, blues, and purples, trees and rocks and lake shining dimly in the darkness. The sand beneath the Garou's paws shifts as if to embrace them, and the air is so crisp it hurts. In the sky above lunes cavort, and the Aetherial Realm stretches out forever. A water elemental spills languidly up over the sand in the distance, lazily forcing a channel in the earth over decades, while behind them, up the thin strip of beach, young glade children titter, tongues wagging between twig teeth, joyfully laughing at the Garou in a language none of them can understand. Across the mirror of the lake the island looms, a fist of rock driven through the glass, seventy years of bad luck. It glows a dull purple in the moonlight. Small and picturesque against its darkness a small fire burns, beckoning.

Seeks-Raging-Water takes a few moments to orient herself to the Umbra, given that this part of it is largely unfamiliar territory to her. As she looks out over the water, her eyes come to rest on the small fire, and she points it out to the others if they haven't already seen it. ~A light to guide us to our next destination, do you think?~

Steel Arrow stretches and shakes out his hide as his packmates appear. He takes the time to scan their surroundings, ears flicking toward the giggling of glade children, nose appreciating the real smells. ~Maybe,~ he decides, regarding the flickering glow lastly.

Requiem takes those moments himself, looking around in no small measure of awe. ~Maybe,~ he agrees, though the water itself gives him pause, a glance angled back to Alexandra before the Glass Walker returns to lupus and paces a circle around the other two, a nervous fidget almost. He still can't swim. Doesn't know how.

Seeks-Raging-Water replies, ~Do you know how to float and to tread water? If you can do that, it will be slow, but we should be able to help you get across. And if not, we'll just have to figure something else out. Perhaps one of the water spirits will understand the Mother Tongue.~

Steel Arrow looks at the Glass Walker, ears laying back slightly. ~If you take your birthform, one of us could carry you across.~

Requiem pulls his lips against his teeth a moment, and there's clear concentration. Can, the galliard eventually decides, and looks back towards the two Shadow Lords. Can float, and ancestors know how to swim. All of the water still clearly makes him nervous, but that doesn't stop him from tentatively walking towards it to get his paws wet.

Seeks-Raging-Water walks over toward the water with Requiem. ~I'll stay beside you. If anything does happen, I can help you get across.~ To Steel Arrow, she suggests, ~Perhaps you should swim ahead some and scout for us? We don't want to run into anything unpleasant that he wouldn't be able to get away from.~

When Requiem does get to the water, though at first there's tentativeness, and frequent glances back towards Seeks-Raging-Water, there is a confidence that does not quite belong to the young galliard as he swims, slowly and steadily out into the lake. Older, perhaps, wiser, and a little bit further out, the nervousness lessens as well. Okay. Maybe not so bad. It's as much encouragement to himself as an outwardly directed comment.

Seeks-Raging-Water keeps up a slow but steady pace alongside the Galliard. It takes a little adjustment even for the Ahroun, given that she hasn't spent much time in the water as a crinos, but her skills from before her change come in quite handy, and before long she's clearly enjoying herself.

The Penumbral water is cool and bracing, it presses in on the Garou from all sides, running through their fur like fingernails. Their pace is easy and the distance to the island just far enough to be exhilarating, and Requiem manages just as well as his prospective packmates. Finally they scrabble up the eastern rockface, which blinks at them blearily. The fire is up just a dozen metres or so, near the cave mouth.

Requiem pads stiffly around a moment once they're on dry land again, shaking water out of his fur with a disgruntled muffled whine and then pawing at his face. Only once he's settled this does he turn to look up at where the fire is, then shifting back to crinos.

Steel Arrow shakes himself off as soon as he's mostly cleared of the water. Little time is taken for the pause and he sets off again, following his nose while he moves toward the beckoning flame.

Seeks-Raging-Water moves away from the others as they come ashore, dropping to all fours to give herself a good shaking, head to tail, sending water flying everywhere. That taken care of, she follows her packmates toward the waiting fire. ~Hello?~ she calls out, not wanting to intrude too closely without permission, since the fire and the cave both may well be part of a spirit's territory.

The fire is a simple pit with a few arm-sized pine logs crackling to ash, their resin turning to smoke and scent. It sits by a cave with a mouth just big enough to swallow a Garou whole. The cave stretches out into darkness. The air is still except for the crackle and the smoke. A muffled sound comes from the cave, a kind of scraping, growling, menacing sound. It has a fearsome lonely keen to it. It lingers in the ears unpleasantly.

Requiem growls softly under his breath in response, holding off from entering the cave when they reach it, nor approaching too close to the fire. ~Well, we found. Something,~ he comments, almost dryly, then squints and turns his attention back to the cave.

Steel Arrow's ears lift at the sound, head coming up slowly. He approaches cautiously, sinking toward his belly as he gets closer to the fire. There's a lingering impression of submission to his posture, respectful but not enough to stay any curiosity.

The fire spits, and the smell of pine clogs the senses. The sound from the darkness doesn't cease. Up above, impossibly high, lunes fly madly beneath the full moon.

Seeks-Raging-Water agrees, ~We did.~ What they've found, of course, is far less certain. While the Ragabash moves closer to the fire, she drops back down to all fours and begins to sniff at the ground nearby to see if she can get any indication of what might be within.

Requiem in turn pays attention simply to the dimensions of the cave, their surroundings in general, taking steps that bring him to just outside of the darkness of the mouth of the cave, though not into it.

Steel Arrow is going in. That much is relayed to the others before he proceeds slowly into the darkness. He doesn't keep to his belly once he's made his choice, rising though still remaining polite in his trespassing.

More than anything else, the area smells of burning pine resin, but beneath that there is the musty stink of animal, but it is muddied, composed of many different species, some of them completely unfamiliar to the Garou. There's horse, deer, some kind of snake, and—other things. Some tang of metal. The fire lights the first ten or fifteen metres of the opening: it's a normal limestone cave, leading slowly down. The dirt at the entrance indicates it's been used before; most recently, it looks like, by a deer, though the tracks are strange and the creature's gait weird.

Seeks-Raging-Water looks for one of the more promising branches from the fire, one with one end that's unburnt, and assuming she finds one, reaches in to pick it up and use it as a makeshift torch as she approaches the mouth of the cave. Where Steel Arrow may move into the darkness, she plans to to carry a light with her, though she stays sufficiently far behind him that, with any luck, it'll increase his chances of remaining unseen while any attention is drawn to her.

Requiem keeps his distance behind letting the ragabash go first as well, but there's a nod to Seeks-Raging-Water, and Requiem paces into the cave, light or not, alert and at the ready, though making effort to be relatively quiet.

Seeks-Raging-Water grabs the sturdiest looking branch and carries the makeshift torch into the cave. As they move down the tunnel there builds a low rumble, a sharp but muffled and wet sound like dogs fighting inside a carcass. The noise is threateningly continuous. The deeper they go the deeper the dense, animal stink around them grows. The path narrows and widens forbiddingly: each time it narrows it feels like it's trying to choke the Garou, and each time it widens it threatens them with every crevice and fold of rock. The orange torchlight dances against the walls, but only for about five metres; beyond that, the dancing stumbles into fog and darkness.

Steel Arrow slips ahead easily enough, not only for the cover of darkness but also to preserve his vision. He doesn't keep to a side or down the center as he progresses along the cave floor, but instead weaves, zigging and zagging as the walls allow.

Seeks-Raging-Water speaks quietly to Requiem, ~What is that noise?~ Whatever it may be, though, she pushes on ahead, trusting Steel Arrow to warn them of any obstacles or dangers that may impede their path. They'll find out when they get there if they can't figure it out beforehand.

Requiem huffs, quietly, pausing once to study the torch even as it lets the Ahroun get ahead of him. ~The torch is. It burned a lot already, not going to…~ the words are as hushed and quiet as Mother Tongue and current form allows, ~last that long.~ As to the noise, there's just a slow shake of his head and shrug of his shoulders. ~Don't know. Not good.~ The last words come with another shift of posture towards readiness, attention on their surroundings.

Steel Arrow hesitates for a half beat, muzzle and gaze lifting toward the ceiling of the cave. In that other half beat he turns around to consider it, to place a sound or smell, before turning back to his scouting ahead.

The widening of the tunnel means the dark encroaches all the more, surrounding them at a thousand points like an army of blackness. The barking gets louder, a riot of dogs echoing madly against the damp cave walls, roiling up to greet the Garou from the belly of the earth. From the darkness and fog beyond the edge of their torchlight something approaches them, flying directly, boldly out into the flickering glare. It's—very small. It's a small bird, no more than a hand and a half high, weighing perhaps as much as a glass of water; it lands neatly a couple metres in front of Seeks-Raging-Water and Requiem, about five metres behind Steel Arrow (whom it appears not to have noticed). It hops a few steps closer, staring up at the Garou the whole time, its eyes bright and almost challenging from behind a hard, shining little beak. There is a fearless impudence to the way it blocks the way forward against two creatures a thousand times its size. The noise below provides a strange counterpoint to the delicate click of its talons against the rock.

Seeks-Raging-Water glances down at the little spirit, stopping. ~Greetings. I am Seeks the Raging Water to Silence her Strike, Cliath Ahroun of the Shadow Lords, and these are my packmates. We have no Theurge, to speak to you in your own tongue, but if you will speak to us in ours, we would ask you of the struggle that seems to be taking place deeper within.~

Requiem crouches down, partially to the level of the bird, a tilt of his head in beckoning Steel Arrow back to join the pair, for the moment. ~I am Carves the Requiem for Cockroach's Children. Cliath galliard of Cockroach's tribe,~ is said, attention respectfully on the small bird in front of him. ~We would,~ is added, a soft huff of assent to the ahroun's words.

Steel Arrow pauses as words behind filter toward him. He turns and, seeing the light that shows his packmates' location stopped, pads toward them once again. When the light spills enough to illuminate the little bird, he makes some amused sound. Sneaky. But it's followed with his own introduction, politely put as he steps around so as to not be behind or flanking the spirit. He is known as Steel Arrow Cannot be Turned, cliath and dark moon of Thunder's blood.

There is something tragic and ridiculous in the little bird's simply being here, in the dark and presumed danger, and being so small and beautiful and impossibly fragile, but it carries itself with such fearlessness and aplomb that one is tempted to feel rather sorrier for its enemies than the bird itself. It is a merlin, with a proud brown-speckled chest, small dark wings, a bright face, and a little beak that shines like burnished iron. A little startled by Steel Arrow's appearance, it immediately, coolly, purposefully, takes to the air, flying up to a crook in the rock where it can keep an eye on each Garou. Nevertheless she returns the Garou's greetings friendlily and formally with a duck of her little head. Her voice as it lilts out the High Tongue is sweet and not as high as one would expect, but she does have to strain to make herself heard above the rumbling from below. ~It is a pleasure,~ she says. ~You may call me Bigwing, or Kareekaree, or Beaksohard. Certainly you can talk to me about it, because that's why I've come to find you. For that thing you hear is the Beast Glatisant, and if you go down there and are not careful and clever, he could gobble you right up.~

Seeks-Raging-Water says, ~It is a pleasure to meet you, Bigwing. The Beast Glatisant is not a creature that I've heard of. What can you tell us of the beast's strengths, so that we can be prepared for them as we stand against it?~

Requiem turns his head to watch Bigwing when she finds her new perch, then turns to Seeks-Raging-Water. ~Isn't that. Myth.~ And then there's a faint 'oh' type of expression, before the galliard continues. ~Head and neck of a snake. Body of. Of a leopard. Legs of a lion, feet… something else, right?~

There's an apology in Steel Arrow's posture when Bigwing startles. But his gaze follows the small bird as she flits to a new perch. Like a hippogriff? The word doesn't translate easily through lupus, but he hedges an understanding of what the Galliard might be describing.

The little bird makes a funny sound from her perch. She sounds pleased, surprised, at Requiem's learning. ~A deer,~ it confirms. ~The hooves of a deer. And its belly makes the sound of 60 dogs hunting—so they say. It is a terrible monster, and I don't know much more about it except that it could certainly chomp you all to pieces if you couldn't get the drop on it. Everything you need to know to take care of it is down there.~ She looks down to the rumble. ~I can also tell you that there is good for you to do down there, if you should choose to do it. But it is dangerous, and you shall have to be very brave.~ Bigwing looks at each of the Garou in turn, and her bright eyes and ruffled feathers ask each of them a question.

Seeks-Raging-Water nods solemnly, looking to her two packmates and finally to Bigwing. ~Then we know the reason that we're here, now,~ she says simply, prepared to continue down the path the spirit indicated as soon as her packmates are ready.

Requiem nods. ~Yes,~ he asserts. A glance at the torch that the Ahroun holds. ~Before the. Before light runs out.~ The hesitation in words and speaking is not reflected in any of Requiem's manner.

Steel Arrow chuffs his own agreement, an ear turning toward his packmates at theirs. He will go ahead as before, implies more scouting to be done, sizing up the beast to let his friends know. He turns to slip off into the shadow and gloom again, hastening away to allow his eyes to readjust to the dim before the others follow.

Bigwing flits from her place, small and graceful, a tiny whirring bundle of wings and talons, a blurry shadow in the torchlight. She lands on the black fur of Requiem's shoulder, and her talons grip at the thick muscle reassuringly. There's utter confidence in her movements, as if by them she could impart her boldness in him. ~If you do get into any trouble,~ she says in a high trill that would be difficult for the others to hear but perhaps a bit uncomfortably loud for Requiem, ~do not worry. Call my name, and I will come save you.~ She doesn't wait for any answer from them before careening fearlessly down into the darkness ahead of them. Then they are left alone in the torchlight and the rumbling.

Seeks-Raging-Water presses on ahead, far enough behind Ky that he is invisible in the darkness that surrounds her small bubble of flickering torchlight, her ears perked and alert as she walks.

Requiem keeps pace with Seeks-Raging-Water, at the edge of the torchlight and pressing onwards, a very faint chuff and lupine smile after Bigwing takes off from his shoulder, and a nod.

Steel Arrow stops somewhere ahead, and stands as if studying what lays in front of him. He's quick to turn back and find Raging-Water and Requiem. Large cave, he relays, beast is some ways off. A few leaps. He pauses to consider, then tells about a fog down there, but it's bright with moon, before turning back to lead the way, just at the edge of their firelight.

The tunnel widens gradually, until it opens into a great circular limestone hall, its walls 30 metres across, its ceiling 40 straight up. Cracks show in the rock here and there and Luna's full glory spills in, bathing the cavern in a brilliant, maddening white light. The limestone shines like crystal, revealing the dull forms of trilobites and nautili frozen forever in the rock, their bumps and ridges mutely telling their stories like braille. Against one wall a rock fall makes a treacherous blue staircase to a jagged opening above which a circle glows like Luna herself, just as bloated and full and fierce. Opposite that sits a wooden ancient door, surrounded by an archway of cut mediaeval stone, surmounted by a circle three-quarters full, its thin sliver of darkness dampening the brutality, making it beautiful and mysterious, a desire just shy of satisfaction. Twenty metres in front of the Garou a tunnel is dug straight into the rock floor, giving way quickly to soft shale and mud; here Luna's light will not approach, and the sign next to it is a circle of darkness, soft and vaguely ominous.

The far end of the cave is shrouded in fog, and all the Garou can make out in it is the dark shadow of a massive moving shape, stamping back and forth like a caged animal. They can feel the small tremor of its footsteps across the rock, and they can hear, insistent as a jackhammer, the clashing and gnawing of jaws, the howling and baying of sixty dogs on the hunt, the fury and teeth of a dogfight: the rumble of the creature's belly.

Seeks-Raging-Water considers each of the sigiled openings in turn. ~Interesting. Three paths, and one for each of our moons, it would seem.~

Requiem nods, his attention already having been caught by the door and archway, studying it and taking a step in that direction already. ~Clearly marked,~ he observes, before turning to study the fog momentarily as well, then making his way over to the door, to test whether it will open easily.

The fog is itself interesting; it moves and stretches despite the lack of wind, and it comes apart in tufts and then reforms. Occasionally it spills out towards the Garou welcomingly, and they can feel the moisture on their skin from here.

The door is set in an archway of hewn stone. Its wood is old and glows scarlet, like dried blood in the moonlight, as if it were lacquered. A massive knocker of iron hangs heavily from it, but it is ajar anyway.

Steel Arrow shoulders against Raging-Water as Requiem moves toward his apparent door. It's not unlike a come on gesture. He moves out into the fog as well, an ear cant toward the beast while he goes to examine the hole symbolizing his auspice.

Seeks-Raging-Water looks to the path marked with the sigil of her own moon, then back down at her two packmates. ~Whichever path we take, we take it together. We seek to be scouts. Cockroach survives in the hidden places where others cannot go, and Steel Arrow and I are from Thunder's line—I say we show this beast why we are called Shadow Lords, and strike at it from the darkness.~ With that, she moves over toward the tunnel after Steel Arrow.

The hole in the middle of the cavern is deep, going down perhaps three or four metres before it tunnels off towards Gaia-knows-what. The darkness gathering in its bottom makes it hard to see. It's cut out of frissile shale, and the Shadow Lords near the tunnel entrance can see the claw marks.

Requiem tilts his head to one side, and holds up a hand, a gesture to wait. ~Wait. Together, but.~ He looks back towards the door. ~What if. Whatever is behind, the door. Could be equally important,~ he points out. ~Or pivotal. It does not. Do. To rush into things.~

The Beast Glatisant has settled down: the Garou can feel when it dumps its bulk onto the soft limestone. But no amount of stillness can silence the roar of beasts that emanates from its belly.

All three may be important, and may be able to be passed. But to start somewhere. Steel Arrow looks down into the hole at his paws, then lowers nose and head inside. Scouting is done under blankets of subtleties and hidden ways. Stories can be transferred as whispers, secrets.

That is enough to get the Galliard to turn and join his prospective packmates, though he hesitates at the beginning of the tunnel to let the others go first, with a nod.

Seeks-Raging-Water moves a bit away from the tunnel to place her torch down on the floor of the cave, although doing her best to ensure it's able to keep burning should they need it again. That done, she follows Steel Arrow down, dropping to all fours for the improved balance it provides.

Steel Arrow slips down through the sharp shale, struggling to place his paws somewhere that won't rip into them. The other Garou have an easier time of it: in larger forms with less far to fall, Seeks-Water naturally more graceful, Requiem still with his ancestors guiding his footfalls. But of course, they are noisier: they crunch down into the shale with a noise that is audible even over the crying barking sound of the Beast Glatisant.

In the tunnels, now that they are close enough, they are able to make out claw marks in the rock: glyphs and spirals, a mad labyrinth of cuts. The tunnel that leads on and down has the faintest of glows to it, around the bend; it is green.

Seeks-Raging-Water's hackles raise at the sight of the glyphs and spirals, and the green glow that comes from up ahead does nothing to ease her mind. She continues on in silence, however, for whatever good that might do given the comparative noise of her passage.

Requiem regains his footing in the tunnel, attention to the glyphs and marks to pick out what he recognises, a low growl very quiet in his throat even as he takes his cues from the ragabash as to how to proceed.

Steel Arrow lets out a whine upon seeing the glyphs, the sound cutting sharply into the tunnel before lowering into a growl. Still, he creeps forward, hackles rising and prickling a ridge of fur along his spine.

The tunnel twists and splits and dives and forks. It is dug by claws from grey flint, slivers of which litter the floor, mixed with mud and digging sharply into the Garou's paws. In the reflected flicker of the torch, the walls of the tunnels glow a dim green. Whereas entering the cave's mouth had the feeling perhaps of entering another animal's den—intimidating, unwelcome, but natural—this feels different. In these twisting tunnels festers a deep sickness. It is less like travelling through a cave and more like being squeezed through the calcified intestines of a dying monster.

Seeks-Raging-Water looks to Requiem. ~Well, your doorway is looking a little more appealing right about now,~ she jests quietly, although there's a measure of truth to the statement as well. That said, she shows no indication of turning around. To Steel Arrow, she says simply, ~We've got your back.~

Requiem huffs, pacing so that he's not far behind the ragabash at all. It's the closest to reassurance that the galliard can manage. ~Together,~ he reaffirms.

Steel Arrow nearly turns back, having like thoughts about checking out a different doorway. Though in all likelihood they could find the same behind the others. He refrains from crowding against the others, though wariness becomes more palpable in each forward step he continues to take.

The tunnel through which the Garou slink takes one last bend, and ahead they can see the green boric flicker of a firepit. They can hear the low guttural gurgle of Mother Tongue spoken through phlegm. Steel Arrow can see that the tunnel empties into a low-ceilinged space of four or so metres across; he cannot quite yet make out the words, but he can sense something of their foulness: he can feel it on his teeth. The smell is of burning, blood, and rot.

Seeks-Raging-Water says softly, ~Twice in a handful of months they have come for cubs in the territory watched over by Hidden Walk, and twice they failed because we stood against them.~ She tenses, preparing for battle, though for now she continues on behind Steel Arrow.

Requiem is silent, save for ever so slowly pressing onward. There is an answering match of tension in his shoulders and posture, though.

Steel Arrow presses close to a wall, fur just brushing against its surface while he continues onward, drawing closer to the sounds. His head lowers in the beginnings of aggression, teeth showing slightly, though his ears are still forward and intent on the sounds. Be ready.

One voice is thickened by catarrh, it comes out in chokes like the bubble of monoxide from mud; the other is thin and oily, ingratiating, it slips around its vowels, all tongue. ~Did it tell you the beast's secrets?~ asks the thick voice; ~Yes, yes, yes,~ says the oily one, ~it told us everything it could.~ Crumpled in a heap in the middle of the room is a sack of burnt skin that was once a person. It smells of meat; despite all the disgust there is a part of the Garou's animal brains that salivates. Steel Arrow cannot yet see the creatures talking. ~Let's go trade the secret to Lady Yul, while it's still fresh.~

Seeks-Raging-Water begins to look for a spot in the cave wall that might conceal Garou from someone passing back this way from deeper within. Assuming she finds one, she'll use hand signals to indicate that the others should do likewise. Without knowing how many opponents they'll be facing, far better to set up an ambush.

Requiem straightens, pressing himself to the other side of the cave wall to cover Steel Arrow's flank, hands balling into tense fists for a moment. ~Very brave,~ is murmured, encouragement and echo of Bigwing's earlier words, just at the volume of a crinos whisper.

Wait. The Ragabash pauses just long enough to infer his meaning of slipping ahead and seeing what they face. Paws are set down carefully and despite the glow he continues to cling to what shadows he can, for as long as he can, just for a better look and information to take back to his companions.

The wolf moves slowly, and his muzzle pokes out into the low-ceilinged chamber just in time to see two dark shapes, hunched over and indistinct, move down a nearby tunnel. Their shadows are chased away by the green flicker of the fire. A tiny crack in the ceiling serves as a flue, but even still the room is smokey and stifling. Breathing is difficult, and what breathes do come are ashen and vile. The only other thing in the room is the body, and the blood the Garou can smell is still fresh, where it isn't boiled.

Steel Arrow follows quickly, to peek down the new tunnel and give a once over of the corpse before hastening back to report his findings. He doesn't linger to formulate plans, instead bidding the other two to follow quietly before he darts off after the two more vile creatures.

Seeks-Raging-Water dips her head in acknowledgement as Ky makes his report, dropping into step behind the Ragabash as they being to pursue their new quarry. She pauses briefly at the corpse, giving it a quick inspection of her own before continuing their pursuit.
Requiem wrinkles his nose at the smells while they get through the chamber, following after Steel Arrow in chase of the creatures, a quick glance to the Ahroun as he does so. There's no effort to silence the growl that the corpse receives as he passes it.

It's a human body, burnt and cut; it died recently. Age and gender are obscured beneath mud and char.

Steel-Arrow moves at what he thinks is a safe distance; he doesn't manage to see anything more than his quarry's backs, but he can definitely see they move at a doubled-over Crinos lope. He tracks them through the twisting tunnels until he begins to have trouble keeping up while remaining quiet. It's getting more difficult, too, to remember the convoluted path he's taking through the labyrinthine tunnels of shale. The darkness is oppressive.

Steel Arrow glances back once, to see where his packmates are, before darting forward. No time to relate the plan to them, though hopefully they'll grasp the idea in a moment, he eschews cover and stealth and bolts forward with a challenging howl, hoping to draw his query toward him so that he can lead them back to his friends.

Like hounds off a leash, the change in the werewolves is immediate: it seems to happen almost before they even hear the howl. They whip around and tear towards Steel Arrow with mad speed, their claws scraping the rock to pieces, baying and howling as much like dogs as like wolves. Their mouths foam and their eyes glow. They are gaining ground.

It's a similar plan to the one that she, Ky, and Hayden tried to use on the tainted coyote, so Seeks-Raging-Water, at least, quickly recognizes the Ragabash's intent and moves to find some cover to establish a good ambush from. She remains intent on the passage ahead even as she takes up her position, either to listen for their return or for signs that things have gone wrong and she needs to move to intervene.

Requiem glances to the Ahroun, lips pulled back from teeth at the challenging howl. The Glass Walker is tense and at the ready to move and attack, watching the tunnel ahead of him and claws digging to find purchase on the rock underneath. But patience is thin, and even from his point to wait and ambush, he creeps forward along the wall somewhat.

Steel Arrow turns to run like all hell is about to break loose, back the way he'd come. He reaches within to find some extra bit of speed, just enough to keep ahead until he's back in the company of the Ahroun and Galliard.

By the time Steel-Arrow passes his packmates, ensconced in the darkness in opposite crevices, the two Dancers on his tail are just a metre behind him. Their eyes roll and their teeth snap: the one in front is so focused on the Ragabash that he doesn't seem to notice the others, but the one behind definitely sees Requiem, and his eyes lock, and his lips peel back into a crazy grin. They carry with them the smell of burnt meat and the momentum of two small cars.

Seeks-Raging-Water moves in a blur of motion. The first Spiral that passes the her doesn't get attacked, but rather a small pat on the back, much like one might congratulate a passing teammate at a sporting event—save that she back this pat with the Falling Touch, to leave him more open for Steel Arrow to attack. The second, the one that focuses on Requiem, she studies for the barest of moments before aiming a claw slash across his flank.

Requiem matches with his own burst of speed, launching partially off the wall of the tunnel to plant a clawed kick in an opportunity, a flurry of motion following the kick as the galliard moves to tear at exposed flesh. All the while, Requiem snarls in open aggression towards the beast.

Steel Arrow twists back around once he's past Raging-Waters and Requiem. Tapping into his own Rage, he snaps into Crinos and lunges to meet the other Dancer with teeth and claws.

The next three seconds are blur of fury and darkness. At Seeks-Raging-Water's touch, the lead Dancer suddenly twitches and falls, stumbling head-first towards Steel-Arrow, digging his paws into the shale, to bring a shuddering claw down through the thing's head. It doesn't die: it disintegrates. Its body collapses in a puff of green flame and a spray of canine teeth and fur. The one in the rear is laid into even more heavily, by both Requiem and Raging-Water, but unlike the first its momentum stays constant: the fire and teeth and fur splash over Requiem, burning his skin and muzzle, leaving their stink in his nose. After that three seconds there is nothing left of the creatures but a carpet of fur across the jagged rocks and some teeth.

Seeks-Raging-Water looks more than a little surprised as the Spirals disintegrate under the combined assault. ~Well. I think we can count that as a plan that worked better than expected.~ Albeit, perhaps not for the all the reasons they'd expected it to, but still. She takes a moment to look around then, and adds, ~I don't know about you two, but I'm pretty turned around with all the tunnels we took.~

Requiem snarls under his breath, one large hand coming up to push at burnt flesh in annoyance. ~I can find, I'm not turned around,~ he starts, then stops, turning towards the ragabash, who gets a lupine smile of encouragement as the Galliard catches his breath.

Steel Arrow scoots back from the flame and fur, shrinking back to lupus with a huff. He shakes himself out and looks to his companions, ears twisted toward them. We go. Next moon door?

The violence—brief though it was—does a little to life the gloom of the place.

Requiem shifts down to lupus for ease of moving through the tunnels they came from, as well. We go, he agrees, ears splaying a little. The galliard nudges against Seeks-Raging-Water once, then turns to start the way back.

Seeks-Raging-Water considers, ~That's one possibility. But they were also taking information to someone—and that someone is still out there. Assuming our gift works properly here, we can still find out what that information was, too.~

Steel Arrow considers the idea, head turning to watch the Galliard move off. Arrow can hear old things after they've been spoken.

Requiem doesn't get more than a few paces, before he turns, and chuffs. Requiem can too, yes. But. Talking was in the room, with the body—which is noted with thinly-veiled disgust—not here. So, listen, there.

It does not take long for the Garou to find their way through the intestinal rock and back to the torture chamber. The room is just as they left it, save that the body is a few minutes older, and has managed to attract a couple flies. They buzz around bloated and lazy; occasionally one suffocates in the smoke. Thankfully the gift the Garou employ provides them only with information, not details nor—tone. The monsters were questioning the person about the Beast Glatisant: he or she revealed, after some duress, that the beast's belly would only go quiet when it drank. The fetid fire crackles away; the smoke slowly sluices up the ceiling.

Song howler's moon door might tell of Glatisant Beast, Steel Arrow muses. He thinks over it for a moment, then poses the question of going back to find out, or stopping the one the information was for first.

Requiem does not know who or what Lady Yul was, or where it would be found. Or how close to it the pack was before they came here to listen. There's a small circle paced and the Glass Walker looks at the tunnels they just emerged from, then the way back towards the main chamber. Door.

Seeks-Raging-Water thinks about it for a little while, then says, ~While I dislike leaving an enemy at our backs, we cannot be certain if we would find this Lady Yul even if we tried to predict where the enemies were going. And if she seeks information on the Beast Glatisant, we are likely to encounter her as we go through the next doors. So door, agreed.~

Steel Arrow chuffs in quiet ascent, though a look toward the tunnel is given. Huffing, he takes the lead again, to direct the way out of the hole and back into the main chamber.

Requiem keeps pace, scrambling to get out of the tunnel when they reach the main chamber again, and then, glancing around to see if anything's changed since they went down the hole in the first place, returns to his birth form, stretching arms out ahead of him.

It's a bit of a climb to scale the hole out into the great cavern. Luna still glows brightly, and the limestone shines with a refreshing, healthy brilliance. From the fog comes the sound of a pack of dogs fighting in a wet sack, but the creature itself is invisible behind the gloom.

Seeks-Raging-Water appears somewhat relieved to be out of the cave. Looking first at the fog, and then between the opening marked with the full moon and the gibbous, she starts over toward the latter. ~From dark moon to full, in order, I think, unless one of you objects.~

Story howlers pass information. The Ragabash pads away from the hole and toward the door marked with the gibbous moon. Clues gained, time to learn about the beast. He sits in front of the door and looks at his packmates.

The door is set in an archway of hewn stone. Its wood is old and glows scarlet, like dried blood in the moonlight, as if it were lacquered. A massive knocker of iron hangs heavily from it, but it is ajar anyway.

The Glass Walker takes a deep breath as he considers the door from where he is, and then walks over to it, before shifting up to crinos. Then Requiem takes a step at the same time as pushing it open. ~Onwards,~ he murmurs. And then, as if affirmation, ~Together.~

Seeks-Raging-Water pauses before they pass through the door. Taking the knocker in one hand, she raps it three times. The door is open, and she might still end up entering uninvited, but she's at least going to make the effort at courtesy.

The doorway leads into a stone room, small and windowless, like a chapel or a cell. The light in here takes a yellowish, almost dirty dimness. There is a bench and a straw bed, both of that ancient red wood. The yellow light stains everything like an old photograph. On the bench sits a suit of armour, its owner buried inside it somewhere. The armour is dented and dingy from months of questing. Its burnished steel has turned to dull grey, it smells of rust and sweaty padding, but the chest and visor thrust out still proud and unbent. The man inside the armour looks at the wall, in a posture of prayer or of crying: the pack cannot see his face. His sword is across his knees, sheathed in pale blue-trimmed leather. The shield, lain unceremoniously across the floor, bears ore, crusily azure.

Steel Arrow slips in through the door as it's opened, as though expecting to take on his forward position again. Finding an armored man and a small, cell-like room gives him slight pause, though, until cautiously he pads forward. It's the man he approaches, coming wide around from behind to the front, in keeping with practices of not startling a possible ally. Hello?

Requiem lets the ragabash have the forward position for a long moment, then follows him, a nod of greeting for the man in the armor, though attention flicks between the armour, and the sword, and the shield. ~Hello?~ the Glass Walker echoes, uncertainty tinging his voice a moment.

Seeks-Raging-Water doesn't add her own querying hello to the two that have already been offered, but she does begin to shift down to homid. If this is potential ally, it might be better to approach him in a less threatening form.

The man turns at the sound of wolves and Mother's Tongue. His face is old and tired, his eyes worn with creases, but they go wide and frightened when he sees what comes through the door. He tries to spring to his feet but the armour and his age make it more of a lurch; his sword hand though still looks strong as he turns to face the Garou with it pointed menacingly out at them. "Stay away!" he demands with a sharp voice used to being obeyed. "Stay back creatures!" His eyes look down to his shield, then back up at Requiem; there is desperation in them and furious thought. Then he looks over at Alexandra and his fear remains, but becomes more resigned, more hopeless. He squints at her, unsure. "Morgana? Is that you?"

Steel Arrow looks at the sword when it's pointed in his direction, then back up to its owner, nonplussed. He circles away from the armored man to come up alongside Lex, his gaze returning to the old fellow.

There's a grunt of annoyance at the point of the sword, and the galliard only takes one step backwards as he returns to his birthform. "Easy," he chides, voice tinged with the tones of a Persuasive gift. "Didn't mean to. To. To…" except that Flint seems to have gotten stuck on that word, rather than being able to finish his sentence, and he looks down from the man in armour, towards the ground.

Flint clears his throat, though, and the words are tinged with persuasion once more. "We are neither demons, nor sorceresses, nor. From your time. By my honour, I. Speak truth."

Alexandra moves her hands away from her body slightly, hands open with palms facing forward to show that she's unarmed, and then says, "My name is Alexandra, daughter of Julian and Alanna." Given the similarity of her family name to the one he seems to fear, she carefully omits that as she introduces herself. "My companions and I mean you no harm. If your cause is just, then we may even be able to be of help."

Flint's shift down into Homid doesn't seem to soothe the knight: he looks as if he wants to run, or throw up. Instead he just reaches down for his shield, slowly, both not to startle these creatures and because neither he nor his armour can move too quickly. He keeps his sword pointed out. Dry lips open as he tries to swallow and he looks briefly at the ceiling, as if searching for the sun. "Then what in the nine hells are you?" he eventually asks, his accent strange and foreign, his vowels long.

Steel Arrow lowers his hind end to sit beside Lex, keeping his gaze fixed on the man quite calmly.

Flint straightens and stands up to his full not very impressive five and a half feet. The teen's skinny frame doesn't help, but he takes in a deep breath, and speaks. "In charge now," he offers, with that persuasive tint once more. "So please put down the sword, and let us speak of. Of. Of the beast. In the cavern."

Alexandra adds, "We may be young, and we may seem strange to you, but make no mistake that we are warriors. Surely it would be better to see if we fight for a similar cause?"

Steel Arrow isn't far behind Flint in the aggression. From wolf to hispo, with a mouth full of teeth shown for all their glory, a snarl setting him on his feet. It's a shift that may do well to personify the Ahroun's claim to being warriors as well. But all in all, that single change has him poised as though prepared to lunge.

Strangely Flint's attempt to take charge serves to put the knight more at his ease. At least, the fear begins to leave his eyes, replaced by regal obstinacy. "No, boy," he says straightforwardly. "No, you are—" he begins, but Steel-Arrow's sudden transformation and posturing startles him from his speech. His sword arm coils back and his weapon swings disastrously downwards towards the Hispo, and as soon as it does Steel-Arrow attacks. The knight is old and slow, and Steel-Arrow connects first, crunching teeth into metal around the knight's thigh like a can opener. Blood escapes through the rusted metal strangely, in a fine red mist. The knight's sword comes down hard and heavy across Steel-Arrow's back, dislocating a front leg joint and tearing open muscle. Needless to say, the Ahroun's attempts at compromise are ignored.

The Glass Walker snarls at what unfolds, a hostile sound that begins even before he's blurred into crinos and rushing the knight to disarm him. Requiem goes for the sword to toss it far and aside, regardless of whatever collateral damage might happen in the interim.

Alexandra interposes herself between Steel Arrow and the knight despite still being in homid, reaching out to give the latter a gentle shove, calling on her gift to send him sprawling. Between the armor and a wounded leg, it should take him some time to get to his feet, and hopefully help Flint with his attempt at disarming the man.

Steel Arrow flinches, even in the more feral form, when his leg is laid open. He follows up with Lex's maneuvering to jump, favoring his own injured leg, at the man's face, his own muzzle still full of teeth snapping with little intent of actually tearing off flesh, intending to hold at just the threat of it. A growl rolls through his chest as he closes in.

The knight's sword shines yellow in the pale light where it can be seen between two meaty Crinos hands and one of the knight's rusted gauntlets. Requiem had caught it before it could come down on Steel-Arrow again, and now the stronger Crinos is wrestling it away from the man's grasp, while he puts all his effort into making the process as painful as possible as the edge scrapes along the Garou's palms. Alexandra moves into this scrum with an odd grace, and adds to it only by a small shove at the knight's hip bone: he crumples almost immediately with a sound like dropping a bag of emtpy tin cans. One leg is bent at a painful angle. Requiem now holds the knight's sword. Steel-Arrow leaps as soon as the knight drops, his huge paws carefully straddling his armour, his teeth gently clenched around his helmet.

The Glass Walker backs off a step, shifting down to Glabro, sword held awkwardly and pointed deliberately at the ground. "Enough," he grunts, though it seems to be a general frustration at the knight. "Ky… let go? Don't have to let him up, just let go."

Alexandra tells the knight, "Yield the fight, and my companion will let you go. I'm no healer, but I've had some training from one, so I'll do what I can for your leg."

Steel Arrow's jaw tightens just enough to put pressure against the helmet. He can crush it if he wanted to. It's held for a beat before he releases it to press his face in close, nose to nose, with the man. ~Tell us about the beast,~ he asks, though the growl of his voice lends to it sounding almost a demand instead.

The knight is breathing hard: the air can be heard whistling through the small holes in his helmet. The eyes of that peer out through the thin slit in the visor are strangely calm now that he's flat in his back with little else he can do. He doesn't answer immediately: he waits until he's regained his breath, and can speak clearly, which takes about twenty seconds. The small cell is eerily calm. His voice is dry when he finally speaks. "I will yield," he says, "so long as you ask me to do nothing against my conscience, and nothing against the will of God." His voice echoes from within the armour, and seems to be addressed to the ceiling.

Flint grumbles, hefting the sword a little. "For now," he allows. "So now we… get. We get to the. The. The… slight matter of the Questing Beast, and you. Tell us. What you know." The instructions to the knight are grumbled, and Flint flexes his hands. "And what you were doing here, to. Start with."

With the matter of his yielding agreed to by Flint, Alexandra sets to work on providing first aid, using whatever materials are at hand as bandages, and using his own armor when possible as elements of the splint.

Steel Arrow seems rather content to loom, head hanging so that he's staring down at the armored man while keeping his bulk over the body. His own wound is majorly ignored, bleeding but held without weight upon it.

The knight tries to get up, but Steel-Arrow's heavy bulk is in the way. "Get—call your creature off me!" the knight demands, as he gives up and slumps back to the floor. "I've yielded honorably, for whatever honour there could be in a melee in which I am attacked by three at once. And leave my armour alone, woman!" He tries to kick his leg so that Alexandra can't tend to it, but that only results in a bit of metallic flailing and a sudden gasp of pain. He breathes out a gust of bloody, insulting air through the visor at Steel-Arrow. Finally he answers Flint's question, annoyed and suspicious: "What do you want with my Glatisant?"

"Yours?" Flint questions, a hint of sharpness in his own tone. There's a glance over towards Alexandra, brows raised, but suggesting that Flint has this talking thing handled for the moment. The hesitation that comes with Flint's speech punctuates the words so they come out more like terse, annoyed orders. "Explain. What you mean. By yours."

Alexandra glares at the man. "Be still, unless you'd prefer to permanently maim yourself because you're too stubborn to allow me to help you. I can't mend your injuries, but I can at least keep them from getting any worse. And Ky, take a few steps back." While she's looking back at her packmate, she eyes his injury as well to see if it seems to be healing. Wounds from spirits often don't, but then, this one seems to be emulating a human rather accurately in every other respect.

Steel Arrow growls warningly when the man tries to get up, lips peeling away from teeth. ~You stay still,~ he tells him when he kicks at Lex, teeth snapping just centimeters from the visored face for emphasis. While he doesn't leave off the man, as the Ahroun requested, he does lessen the leering a little after making his point.

The knight slowly manages to get his heavy arms up on top of his heavy breastplate, so that he can push ineffectually at the giant wolf posturing over him. "Well, she's mine, isn't she?" he answers, his voice gruff and tired as he struggles half-heartedly with Steel-Arrow. "She is my quest. Everyone knows only a Pellinore can kill the Questing Beast. And I am King Pellinore: which answers your question as to why I am here." He has at least stopped kicking, and as Alexandra ministers he carries on bravely.

Flint rolls his eyes at this last statement, beginning to pace slightly and passing the sword from one heavy glabro hand to the other in fidgeting with it. "Everyone knows, Palamedes killed the Questing Beast," the galliard responds. "At least. Stories say that." There's a hint of that Flint knows more than he's saying, in how quickly he changes the topic. "But. Right now, see. You and us. We're on the same side." Persuasion laces the calmer words.

Alexandra looks to Flint, puzzled. She may recognize the knight's name, but mythology isn't exactly one of her main interests. She's more than content to leave him to the lead at this point, since he seems to have far more background knowledge on the matter than she does.

Steel Arrow lays down on the knight as further attempts to remove him are made, like the man were a pillow meant for such a thing in spite of the armor. His head stays up, chin lifted and ears erect. ~Ask about the drink.~

"You are making no sense, boy," Pellinore retorts, sounding for the first time properly annoyed, rather than just frustrated and tired. "Obviously Glatisant is not dead, for I can hear her from here. And obviously the Saracen could not kill her anyway, for he is a heathen. And obviously we are not on the same side, for you burst into my chamber and attacked me."

"We burst into your chamber, yes. But. You. You attacked Kyler," and Flint nods towards the hispo, "first." Another pause. "And, we are on the. Same side, because. My friends and I wish to. To see Glatisant dead, too." The galliard seems to be tiring of being social, and moves to stand near Alexandra. "Which would have been. A lot easier, before you went pointing, and swinging, this," and the sword is hoised a little, demonstratively, "about."

Alexandra asks, "And you don't find it odd that we knocked and called out a greeting as we entered your chamber and offered you aid afterward, if we were truly your enemies and meant you harm?"

~Perhaps the sword can be used to kill it,~ the Ragabash points out, head tilting enough to cast a look down at the man. ~If he doesn't give us answers soon, I'm going to force the answers from him so we can move on.~

Pellinore is silent: covered in armour head to toe (except for one shinguard), it's impossible to tell if he's thinking or sulking. Eventually he says, his voice very flat and wounded, "You are wrong. I have no interest in seeing you kill my beast. I have yielded. You may ask me one question about the Glatisant, and I will answer you truthfully. Does this suit you?"

Flint grunts, acknowledgement but neither positive nor negative. "Your beast," the galliard says. "I am learned in. Stories and histories, and the like. You, Pellinore, you—king—I speak truth when I say. I learned, you die, without having killed the Glatisant. But the question belongs to Kyler, to ask, and that done, you will either aid us, or… I-uh. You will not interfere."

"I am beset by devils!" bellows Pellinore, shouting at the stones of the ceiling as the only things in the room he can really see. But he continues without even breaking stride. "Fine, I will play your game, devil. I will not interfere. Truly I would not wish to, for I am eager to see the Glatisant gobble you all up."

Alexandra looks to Flint, "If you're already familiar with it, it seems to me you've got the best shot of asking a question we don't already know the answer to." For her part, she seems perfectly content to let one of the other two ask it.

Steel Arrow growls and snaps at the man's face again when he shouts, though it doesn't rouse him from his perch just yet. ~Just remember I can kill you with one bite,~ he promises before shifting to homid. What a change, from large beast to adolescent boy, almost sickly looking and skinny besides. "What drink does the beast need to quiet it's belly," he asks, "and will that weaken the beast?"

When Ky gets up, Flint moves over, sword hefted such that Pellinore can't take it back even if the knight-king does rise.

Pellinore doesn't bother sitting up yet. He lets one arm clang back down onto the stone floor and uses the other to turn his helmet so he can see the Garou through the slit of his visor. He waits for the question.

Flint grumbles, a low sound that threatens to turn into a growl. "He asked," the Glass Walker snaps, "what drink it is that quiets the Glatisant, but more, whether that weakens the. The beast."

It's the Ahroun who's the patient one among the three Garou, it seems, despite it being the full moon. Alexandra simply watches and awaits a reply.

Ky walks around the man as Flint restates his question, though he doesn't look at the Galliard. He glances toward the visored face then down at the leg that had just been mended. His foot raises slowly enough, then drops like a guillotine toward the bandaged appendage.

"Water," says Pellinore. "Like any beast, the Beast Glatisant takes its water from a pool or a stream. It's quiet when it drinks, and—" and here the knight pauses. He doesn't want to say more, but knows he will. He forces himself up so that he's half-sitting, hanging raggedly on one still arm. He looks up at the Garou, and there's something pleading in his posture. "When she's quiet, she doesn't know you're coming," he says, finally, his voice quiet, just loud enough to make it through the armour. "She can feel you, when she's barking. When she's quiet, she can't. But that wouldn't be sporting—that wouldn't be fair. It would be cheap and dishonorable. Only a beast would take Glatisant like that."

Flint brings his free hand up to rub at his forehead, then turns to look at his two packmates, then back to Pellinore. "For what it's. Worth. If you had not attacked us, we could have. Dealt, without use of force." And then Flint turns, taking a step towards the door.

Alexandra says, "That would be why the Dancers wanted the information, then. For what it may be worth, your majesty, we have already stopped one group of beasts from taking this secret to a master that we have no reason to believe would not have used it." Moving to Flint to get Pellinore's sword, she returns to offer it back to the knight before she goes.

Flint turns to Alexandra and shakes his head once. "When we're done," he indicates. Not that the Galliard has use for the sword, particularly, but at the same time, he doesn't seem quite to trust Pellinore, perhaps.

"Keep th—" Ky breaks off that line of thought when the matter of the sword is settled. He gives Pellinore a look before proceeding to the door and back into the cavern.

Pellinore watches all this from behind a mask of metal, yellow in the strained light of the room. Outside, Luna shines as brilliantly ever.

Alexandra says, "If it's an attack you're afraid of, I'll leave last and return it once you've left, but we're returning the sword." This doesn't seem to be something she's inclined to compromise on.

Flint pauses, glancing at Alexandra, but he doesn't seem to be willing to compromise either, hand on the sword even as he's returned for the moment to homid. "No," he says, quietly. "It's not that. But… not until we're done. Please? It's. It may come in, useful."

"It might be what's needed to kill the beast," Kyler says from the chamber, looking back at his packmates. "We keep it until this is ended."

The knight contributes no more to the conversation. There is a strain of metal as he finally manages to slouch from the floor back onto the bench on which he'd been sitting, but it's hard to hear over the barking of the Beast Glatisant.

Alexandra says, "And do you have any reason to think that it is? Because what I see us doing is stealing a weapon that doesn't belong to us for no better reason than we feel like it. We are weapons. And while Pellinore may not be an ally, he's no friend of Lady Gul, either, and I'll not leave him injured and defenseless if she sends minions after him since to find out the information we stopped her from getting once."

Flint considers the point slowly, then yields, a tip of his head to Alexandra before he sets the sword where Pellinore can get it. "We can always come, and get it, back. If. We do need it," he points out. "And," he says to Lex. "Point, there." That done, he does make his way back to the main cavern, and looks towards Alexandra. "One more path, the. Full moon. Yours."

"And what if our claws and teeth don't work against it," Kyler counters. "And what if he had a hand in killing the other human we found down the wormhole? He might not be our ally, or that of our enemies, but we know nothing about him. I say we keep it and return it when we're done with this place. If anything, we can use it to cross over after. Unless you have a mirror dedicated."

Flint looks to Ky. "I've a knife," he states, pulling a small switchblade from his pocket, shiny reflective surface and everything. "We can use that. To cross over. If we need it, his sword, we get it back from him."

Ky shakes his head slowly. "I think you're making a mistake," he states. But he ends the debate by walking away from the doorway and toward the Ahroun-marked archway.

Pellinore slowly reaches out to grab the sword by its tip. He drags it towards himself across the stones and places it back neatly in his lap. He stares at the blood—his own and Steel-Arrow's—on the stone floor, and is quiet.

The main chamber is bright, its walls glisten with limestone and fossils. Against the opposite side is a rockslide, great chunks of stone piled up like haphazard steps, leading to a hole in the rock above which is drawn the full moon. Against the far wall, the Questing Beast sleeps and snores with the sound sixty hounds hunting, baying, and tearing.

Mistake, perhaps, but even if so, it's one that Alexandra insists on making. Once Ky makes his exit, she does as well, pulling the door shut behind them. As she crosses toward the rockslide, she begins to shift, resuming the warform and looking for the best place to climb toward the hole in the rock above.

The galliard as well retakes crinos after tucking the knife back and away, letting Alexandra climb first but not seeming too daunted by the climb at hand. Requiem is quiet for the moment, ears splayed and pensive.

Ky shifts to lupus himself, picking his way up the rockslide in leaps and jumps.

It's a climb of about ten metres up jagged rocks, but the Garou manage it easily: Raging-Water with sure grace, Flint with a surprising instinctive ease, and Ky with three good legs and determination. The rock at the top is a flat table of limestone which provides a clear view through the hole in the rock. Ahead of them is a small room of stone, its floor a jumble of jagged rocks and stalagmites forming small hills and overhangs, its walls surprisingly smooth and artificial. They are covered in glass so that the room seems to extend out to infinity, a limitless waste of jumbled stone. It's hard to say where the light comes from in this room: it comes from everywhere, embedded in the mirrors and rocks, but its strongest where Luna blazes in from outside. The three Garou at the entranceway cast long shadows which multiply to infinity.

Seeks-Raging-Water moves farther into the room, toward its center, raising up one hand to shield her eyes from the glare. ~Well, I don't think we have to worry about finding our way back across, afterward,~ she notes, even as she scans the room.

Requiem steps into the room a little, squinting. ~So, what's… all this, supposed to…~ the muttered musing fades off, the Glass Walker perhaps talking to himself as much as to his packmates.

Steel Arrow forges on ahead once reaching the room, still keeping one leg folded up and out of use. Unsure of what to look for or what might be found, he keeps a running tally of sights and smells and sounds as he moves deeper into the area.

Only a few square metres in the entire hall have any real solid footing: the rest is all angles, sharp and forbidding. The hall is oval, about 20 metres by 15, and there is nothing in it but the three Garou themselves, reflected to infinity, and their shadows reflected sharply in the swollen moonlight that streams in from the opening. Them, and their shadows, clearly outlined and perpetually reflected. The Garou move about the space curiously, and see themselves a million times from a million different angles, but they fail to see any clear goal or threat: until their shadows begin to move.

Seeks-Raging-Water appears to notice, or at least suspect, that the shadows aren't moving the way they're supposed to, though at first she makes a bit of extra effort to make sure she's not just imagining things with some quick arm and leg movements. Once it becomes clear that they are, in fact, moving independently, she tells the others, ~Watch the shadows. And let's see what happens when we block or allow the light to certain areas, find out how much they're affected by it.~

Requiem looks back at the Ahroun. ~Not just. Me, then,~ he responds, having noticed it as well, before simultaneously backing away from the mirrors and moving so that the shadow he casts is shorter.

Steel Arrow approaches one of the mirror things, watching his own reflection and his reflection's shadow quite intently.

The shadows in the mirrors move in a restless jumble, spinning dizzyingly quickly around the walls. There's a strange sense of purpose to it, as if the only thing separating the Garou from understanding is position or time, as if they were somehow on the inside of a zoetrope. The only break in the mad dance of shadows is the hole in the wall, where Luna's bright light spills in. The shadows in the mirrors take on shape as they put on speed, and soon they steady into three distinct dark shapes: two monstrous Crinos, and one wolf, flickering between substance and shadow. One is a little shorter than the other, but much more solidly built: she steps out of the glass first, immediately dropping to all fours, and she begins to pace straight towards Seeks-Raging-Water. The snapping of her teeth is hollow, like an echo. The other two shadows separately go after Requiem and Steel-Arrow: the wolf makes for Steel-Arrow dragging a gimp leg behind him; the other Crinos is after Requiem, moving steadfastly bipedal and licking the meat of its hands.

Seeks-Raging-Water steps backward, crouching slightly and readying herself should the shade prove to be hostile, but studying it as it approaches her and waiting to see what it does rather than immediately pursuing the offense.

Requiem on the other hand doesn't waste time, claws and teeth bared and stance a fighting position even as he also moves to get closer to his packmates. Head shakes from side to side as if to clear it, focus more on the matter at hand. ~Be ready,~ he says, perhaps unnecessarily.

Steel Arrow's lips peel back slightly, just a show of tooth, while hackles rise. He moves forward slowly, head lowering in challenge.

As Seeks-Raging-Water looks into the void of her own shadow, the void looks back: it stops and studies her, just as she does it, growling hollowly all the while. After about five seconds it starts towards her again, faster now, claws out. Requiem backs slowly away from his opponent, his ancestors helping to guide him blind over the treacherous rocks, towards the rest of his pack: his shadow, too, moves cautiously, but it also moves fast enough to close the gap. It arms are up defensively, but its teeth are ready to pop out at any moment, and in a few seconds it will be on him. The careful positioning and studying of Raging-Water and Requiem occupy one half of the space, closest to the entrance: the other half is a blur of fury, darkness, and teeth, as Steel-Arrow and his own shadow leap recklessly into battle against each other. The Ragabash claims first blood, skirting past the other's attack and chomping down hard on the shadow creature's bad leg. It tastes of dust and ink.

Requiem pauses, letting his shadow close the gap and then meeting it with a kick similar to a roundhouse kick aimed below the shadow's guard, and the galliard doesn't stop there. The kick is followed a snarl, attempting to circle now and keep some distance between him and his shadow to be able to both defend and attack.

Steel Arrow spares little time on the leg in his mouth, releasing it after drawing blood. He twists around, lunging in for another attack, aiming for something more vital.

Seeks-Raging-Water glances over, seeing Ky and his own shadow already engaged in combat. ~What is the real test here?~ she asks the other two, although not necessarily expecting an answer. Rather than attack her own shadow, though, she throws herself at the exposed flank of Requiem's, tearing with teeth and claws in the hopes of catching it by surprise.

The light plays strange tricks, and the crazy broken terrain casts jagged shadows in endless recursion. Blood and sludge begin to spill over the rocks, making them slick and even more treacherous. Steel-Arrow and his shadow go at it brutally: the Ragabash tries to twist around his opponent to get at something more vital but just gets the other haunch, ripping and tearing muscle which turns to dust and smoke between his teeth, while his shadow tries the same thing, spinning to get his opponent's belly, but it manages to find something softer, ripping a gash out of Steel-Arrow's side right where the rib cage ends. Both Requiem and his shadow make slow, careful, deliberate strikes, the Galliard with his leg, his shadow with its claw, and both connect weakly. Seeks-Raging-Water, however, takes Requiem's shadow completely off guard: she strikes from behind, her claws ripping through the empty space of its lower back, which makes him rear and drops him to the ground, supported only by the black space of his big Crinos arms, scrabbling to avoid sliding down the rockface on which he's perched. Her shadow takes the same advantage, cuffing her brutally all along her back and across the top of her head, scraping off muscle and painting the rocks red.

Seeks-Raging-Water leaves her packmate to finish off his nearly dead shadow, turning her attention to her own. ~Help Steel Arrow when you finish, then both of you can help me.~ She begins to circle away from Requiem, then, holding to a defensive strategy focused primarily on evasion as she aims to keep her own shadow busy, though she'll get in a quick claw strike if she's able to.

Steel Arrow snarls, pained, but not put off. Paws are used to grab for the shadow-wolf's body, to hold it in place and drag himself along, closer to his original target. Again he tries to get his teeth into something vital or more damaging, nearer to the head of the beast.

Requiem aims another kick to his shadow, then moves down to tear at the throat area before turning and making for the shadow wolf to try and pull the shadow away from Ky, or otherwise subdue it.

Requiem has little difficulty finishing off his own shadow. Its throat spills open, and the barely corporeal body slumps down and slowly slides down the angled rock, leaving a trail of dust and a smear of darkness. He goes to help his packmate, but Steel-Arrow has dealt with his problems himself, through sheer cussedness and Rage, but the victory has left him marked. He and his shadow had both had a good grip on the other, and neglecting all defence they had both decided merely to rip and tear. Its dark insides slough to the floor; Steel-Arrow's insides dangle about half-way down his wounded leg, before he summons his fury and his body magically knits itself back together, drawing an intestine back up into his stomach cavity with a wet slurp. His teeth are clenched so hard his mouth is full of blood and spit. Seeks-Raging-Water, by contrast, has her Rage leashed incredibly tightly: she withholds her claws, and her shadow is able to catch only air.

Now that is interesting. If Seeks-Raging-Water were in the Realm, the Ahroun would almost assuredly never try such a strategy, but she's in the Umbra, and she's fighting her own shadow. Rather than press her attack, she shifts from crinos to homid, though still doing her best to avoid any attacks that may come.

Requiem pauses to assess the ragabash, a furrow of brow and narrowing of eyes until he sees that Steel Arrow is going to be alright, at which point he once again turns, flanking the Ahroun's shadow and waiting for an opportunity to move in and strike when Alexandra returns to homid, a shorter kick this time.

Steel Arrow pauses for a breath, head turning to nose briefly at his injured leg. It's all in passing, though, and he's quick to join his packmates. As quick as his limp will allow. He moves in to flank also, circling around until he's come up to mirror the Galliard.

Alexandra slinks down carefully into her human form as her shadow's wide fierce swing comes down at her, and she looks up at it with a little bit of the tiny bravery Bigwing had showed them earlier. Thankfully it shrinks to match her mid-attack, but its punch still connects solidly: thunk, right in the shoulder. Requiem is there in time to jab his claws into the comparatively small shadow's side, right under the armpit, spilling smoke. Steel-Arrow is right behind them.

Requiem moves forward when the shadow shrinks, going to wrap hands around its neck and try to restrain it, keep it from attacking Alexandra, but not further attack it. ~So what the hell. Is it,~ he grumbles.

Steel Arrow goes in low with teeth, harrying and harassing, nipping and legs and ankles.

Alexandra says, "That's a good question." Assuming Requiem can keep the shadow-Lex largely immobile, she says, "Let's find out how much like me you really are. Can you speak?"

As Requiem's mangled hands wrap around it, the shadow seems to realize its beaten. There is a moment when it looks at itself in the mirror, a reflection of a reflection of a shadow, and there seems to be some self-awareness there, but in a moment it is gone. It speaks, but it does not answer their questions, nor does it any longer pay attention to Steel-Arrow's harassment. It speaks in Alex's voice, but it is automatic and lifeless, a recitation rather than a speech: "The Beast Glatisant," it says, "is far from home. Its sorrow fuels its anger. It is hiding here. It does not realize that all it needs to do to get home is to follow the moon." As soon as the last syllable is spoken, the shadow disappears, it falls immaterial to the floor at Alexandra's feet, and Requiem is holding only dust. Luna shines brightly.

Requiem crouches down when the shadow disappears, hands flexing out in front of him. ~The question then, is how do we communicate with it? If it is not of the Wyrm, and not. That we can tell, that, but. It should. It should get, to go home.~

Alexandra breathes a sigh of relief. Still in one piece, and getting information to boot. "It's sorrow…and hiding. So I wonder if the great good that Bigwing mentioned was in leading the Beast Glatisant home, rather than slaying it. He never did say we were here to kill it, after all, only that we'd have to be very brave to keep it from eating us up."

Steel Arrow limps around the disintegrated, disappeared shadow thing, three legs carrying him in a slow circle to nose first at Lex and then Flint. Offer it water and point it toward Luna, he suggests before moving carefully toward the way back into the main cavern.

Requiem nods. ~Then, water from. Where?~ the galliard poses the next question, following the ragabash. ~It is a spirit, yes, but I could see if it is, enough animal, that my gift would work.~

Alexandra looks to Steel Arrow. "You all right? Looked like your fight was the worst of them." She starts toward the main cavern as well, the back of her shirt showing a red stain where she was clawed by her shadow, though she's still moving pretty well. "But we don't want to offer it water unless we want to make it vulnerable. Wait until it drinks to approach without it sensing us, so that it doesn't attack us, and then lure it toward the moon if Flint can't communicate with it?"

Steel Arrow is no worse for the wear. His answer is a touch wry, injuries grievous but not likely fatal. At the moment. He picks his way down into the cavern carefully, slower going than his climb up. Water nearby? If not… Man with sword, glowed like Luna.

Requiem nods, scrambling down the rocks easily, then turning to Alexandra. ~What she said, was. Take care of.~ The galliard offers the reminder of Bigwing's words, tone indicating the new light that the words can be seen in, before he looks around the cavern for any sign of water.

The main cavern continues to glow, dimmer now but if anything more beautiful. It is a limestone gallery of fossils, where the survivors of a previous age lie encased in the rock like a bestiary. Through the cracks in the ceiling Luna's brilliance streams in: up in the thin skein of sky, the pack can see the flight of a tiny bird as it harasses a fat crow. The wall of fog has fallen: it spreads out over the floor, a thin soft grey carpet, at once comforting and eerie. It absorbs the moonlight that streams in. Where the great mass of fog had been rears the Beast Glatisant. Its head, smooth and gentle, with soft eyes and a wide quiet mouth that could indeed gobble one right up, lifts to the sky. Its body is a leopard's except for its massive, spotless rear haunches. Its legs, perched carefully on the sharp rocks, are a deer's. It is about the size of a low shed or a tank. It rests restlessly, near a small pool caused by a smooth waterfall along the limestone wall. The waterfall is inaudible next to the horrible noise the beast makes: thirty pairs of dogs fighting nastily within the wet carcass of a beast not big enough for all of them, a howling, whimpering, scratching noise. As it bellows, the ground around it shakes slightly; a few loose pebbles rattle in tune. The beast does not yet seem to have noticed the Garou, or perhaps it simply doesn't care to move.

Alexandra points over toward the wall of fog, or where it was. "I think the only way to know whether there's water nearby is to enter…oh." There is no more wall of fog to shield them from the beast's senses. She looks to Requiem, then, beginning to shift to glabro, and says, "I think you're just about up." To both of them, she asks, "But first, if we have to lead it, how can we get it to follow the moon? We'd all have to be able to fly, from the looks of things."

Steel Arrow looks up, first to the moon and then to the cracks and crevices and the walls that create the cavern. Climb, he suggests while studying the way up to the hole in the ceiling. Show it the moon.

~No. Follow the moon,~ Requiem says, ~the direction, that Luna shines in the sky. To walk towards, that direction, is to follow the moon. Like one would, would follow. The north star.~ There is a cautious step in the direction of the questing beast, not close enough to disturb it or invade its space, and then the galliard crouches down to watch it.

Cannot follow if it does not see. The Ragabash works his way forward, gaze returning to the hole in the ceiling. Yes. Beast must drink to hear and see to follow. Steel Arrow hurries to the wall to begin picking his way upward and toward the opening where Luna shines in.

Alexandra says, "It must drink to not sense someone approach!" But Ky's already off. With any luck, he'll be quiet enough not to provoke an attack. In the meantime, she offers to Requiem, "Looks like you're up."

The Beast Glatisant lifts its head, and its thin pointed tongue pokes out against the night sky. It blinks slowly, through two eyelids. Ponderously, with a sense both of weight and of weariness, the Beast Glatisant rises to its hooves. It turns and moves slowly towards the pool of water, picking its way delicately amongst the rocks.

Requiem watches as the beast goes towards the rocks, approaching at a distance, until and if the beast begins to drink, at which point he gets closer. ~Sha, easy,~ he says, the words laced with a persuasive hint and at the same time carrying the power of Beast Speech, ~we can get you home. I know, you want to go home,~ he continues, keeping tone level, watching the beast for some hint of understanding and at the same time remaining wary, and alert.

Alexandra stays close to Requiem, not saying anything but prepared to help if needed, though her gaze goes from the beast to Steel Arrow, hoping the latter gets into position safely.

When the Questing Beast bends to drink, the cacophony in its belly finally ceases. The silence is profound, broken only by the sound of its serpentine tongue against the water, Requiem's speech, and Steel-Arrow's scrabbling claws against stone. The creature freezes when Requiem begins to speak. All the muscles in its lion haunches tense: it looks like it might fly away, or throw out a fatal hoof at the Garou's head. But instead, after a second of utter stillness, it shifts its body around so that it can look at him with one yellow eye and still drink, and be quiet.

~You're lost, and angry, aren't you?~ Requiem asks, continuing in the same fashion as before, and crouching, perfectly within the Questing Beast's reach and stone still, as unthreatening as a crinos can possibly be. ~All… all you need to do go home, is follow the moon,~ he says, pointing towards the top of the chamber. ~I. I don't know where your home is, but it is that way, and the moon will. Lead you there. I. We. Mean you no harm.~

Steel Arrow works his way upward. It's slow and not always steady, at times halting completely. But closer look finds concentration elsewhere as he works his way toward the top.

Alexandra remains somewhat behind Requiem, watching the beast warily, remaining as still as possible so that she doesn't disturb or distract it. Or her packmates, for that matter.

The beast looks up at the crack in the cavern's ceiling; as well, at least, as it can while it's still drinking. It is elated: it does not doubt Requiem's words for even an instant, there is no doubt or uncertainty in it, just a desperate yearning. There's a quiver in its lion haunches as it lies there, lapping up water slowly, watching him, as all it wants to do is break free. It waits to see if he has anything else he wants to say.

There is a hint of peace to Requiem's posture now, relaxation, and he turns, looking at both of his packmates and then back to the Beast Glatisant. ~Go,~ he encourages it. No more persuasion needed here. ~Be free, go home.~ And there is a slight wistful note in the galliard's voice, to that last word. ~And thank you.~

Alexandra doesn't know if the beast will understand her or not, but she does offer, "And good luck," as parting words of her own to the creature.

Steel Arrow glances behind to check on the progress with the beast and his packmates, tongue hanging from open jaws. But his pause doesn't last too long, and he starts upward again to stand as a final guidepost if it were needed.

The Beast Glatisant is up and off. As soon as it moves its hounds start rumbling, a horrible but now almost triumphant sound: a pack of dogs fighting over a kill, a hound baying for its master. It starts off but rears back again and looks once more with a lowered serpentine head, and it tells them thank you: even Steel-Arrow and Alexandra can make that out perfectly plainly. The beast jumps, a leap like a grasshopper's which lands on a small outcropping rock of rock which seems much too small for it, just by Steel-Arrow: he can feel the ground shake as it brushes past him, almost knocking him over, leaving a patch of leopard fur to settle into the red of his wound. The Questing Beast makes one more physically impossible leap—this time literally impossible, as it reaches the opening and glides nimbly through it, riding the invisible airts of the spirit world out of the shining cavern and towards Luna's bright face. Just as it leaves, a tiny bird flies through it, taking its tiny life quite in its hands as a single slip from the great beast would crush it completely. The bird flies down towards Alexandra and Requiem, perching on the latter's shoulder quite boldly. Bigwing preens: her chest is quite puffed up.

Steel Arrow's legs splay when the ground shakes, making a half hop in effort to keep weight off his injured leg and keep from tumbling. He lifts up a howl to follow the beast, a keening cry to wish luck to the beast. Getting his feet under himself again, it's downward he goes, picking the way back to the cavern floor.

Requiem lolls his tongue a little, and chuffs when Bigwing lands on his shoulder. The galliard is clearly pleased, and he glances between Alexandra and Steel Arrow, standing upright and moving to help the ragabash should he need it. ~We… we did it,~ he remarks.

"We did," Alexandra agrees, clearly in high spirits now that their task is complete, the pain in her back forgotten for the moment. "Hello, Bigwing," she greets the merlin with a smile.

Steel Arrow's ears slant back slightly after he's reached the ground. He pauses beside Flint, looking up at the Galliard, then turning his attention to the small spirit.

~You did,~ confirms Bigwing, her voice a small trill in the now strangely quiet cavern. ~And very cleverly and very bravely, too.~ She says to Alexandra quite pertly, ~Hello, Warrior-Who-Tricks-Herself,~ She lifts herself to fly in a comfortable cruising circle over to where Steel-Arrow descends the rockface, and she perches neatly on his head, clinging with sharp little talons so she doesn't fall off. She's so small it doesn't even hurt; though there's a sense she certainly could make it, if she wanted to. ~Now, I am obliged to inform you that there is a certain cantankerous and uncouth weasel spirit up there who would be happy to have you all to choose his Incarna as your Totem. Especially you, little Firebrand,~ she says, pecking Steel-Arrow on the head affectionately. ~But I would be very honoured if you would choose Merlin, and allow me to be your praenomen. Very honoured indeed. And of course you should feel honoured to pick me, for I am clever, and sharp, and fearless.~

Steel Arrow's eyes lift upward, as if he might see the bird on top of his head. His ears lift a touch, amused and perhaps pleased to have been perched upon. Bigwing would be a fine choice, and Arrow would be honored to be chosen by Merlin. His gaze lowers, seeking out his companions for their thoughts.

Requiem chuffs again, and waits for Steel Arrow to get back down to the floor of the cavern, before he speaks. ~I…~ there's a nod, and he glances to each of his packmates in turn. ~Yes.~ For all of the many words earlier, the galliard is very quiet, now, turning towards Alexandra.

Alexandra tells the others, "I know that weasel is very brave, and certainly a fierce fighter, but I feel a greater kinship with Bigwing, and would prefer to follow her."

Bigwing is proud, and happy. ~Good,~ she says, her voice a high trill the same tone as the water behind them. ~We will fight the Wyrm together, and do great deeds.~ She sounds absolutely sure.