"I doubt the hive will be happy to let us leave."

[renferret]

 A (semi) Elder Moot to discuss how to move the Wyld Wasps to Spirit Lake.

National Park, Mountain Bowl

 

This is perhaps the most breathtaking scene in the entire park. Sheer walls of rock rise towering into the sky on three sides, forming a U-shaped bowl with the opening at the north end. The cliffs are dotted with precariously-clinging trees in numerous places, and caves of various sizes dot the cliffs all the way up. The floor of the bowl is filled with hardy evergreen trees, mostly pine. The underbrush is scant, and a carpet of old pine needles muffles most sounds to quiet sussurations. A small trail winds away up a hill, and the caves look unreachable. Occasionally you hear the harsh call of a great bird of prey, and on very lucky instances you look up fast enough to notice huge birds alighting in their aeries above you -- the park's small golden eagle population.

 

A path leads over the rim of the bowl to the north.

 

Contents:

Jacinta

Obvious exits:

Path

 

 

Jacinta sits in the clearing where the moot was held, not too long ago. The damp grasses are scattered also with needles from the many pine trees nearby. The Wendigo's eyes are closed and she appears to be in meditation.

 

Topsy :makes the trek throught the Park in sensible clothes and sensible boots, at a sensible pace. Just another hiker, clearly (albeit one that gives some poor humans the distinct feeling that she's about to turn /them/ into another 'disappearing hiker' statistic). She stops and stretches once she reaches the designated meeting spot, working a kink out of her spine with an audible pop.

 

First-Strike and Lefty arrive on time, but this clearly comes at a price for the former. The Walker elder's usual ungainly lupus walk has been replaced by a sort of dragging, shuffling gait centered around her hind legs, slow at the best of times, and the strain and discomfort is obvious to see. She's wearing a strange contraption that wraps around her shoulders and her midsection, with most of the oddity running the length of her spine.

 

Elliot shows up on time, working his way through the Park. Once he arrives he gives a glance and a nod to those already here, but doesn't interrupt Jacinta's meditation, instead claiming a spot to sit to wait for all to arrive.

 

Lefty, upon arriving with First Strike, finds someplace to sit. The Gnawer looks moody and sullen, her usual facetious manner absent.

 

Scar arrives on four legs, a grizzled old veteran of a wolf with a crook in his tail and a noticeable limp. He stays that way, too, unhurried as he makes his way in, the moon heavy on him, his temper on a tight leash.

 

Jacinta's eyes open as the others begin to arrive, and she greets each with a silent nod. Mouse's arrival, however, receives a narrowing of her gaze and a more studious examination.

 

Oath-Ring slips in unobtrusively and without ceremony, remaining on the outskirts and sitting in silence, gloomy as ever.

 

First-Strike's return look may seem somewhat out of place with the rest of her body language. She flashes Jacinta an unmistakable, if brief, glance of triumph and confidence.

 

Wildfire arrives without fanfare, traversing the land with his tribesmate. Arriving wordlessly through some underbrush, he simply settles upon the ground nearby, his scowl showing through even in the wolf-form.

 

Topsy beams around as people arrive, cheerfully calling greetings to those she knows at least somewhat, and nodding gracefully to those she is less familiar with.

 

Scar angles, unsurprisingly, toward First-Strike, greeting her curtly but warmly.

 

Elliot waits for a time until all arrive, and then hefts himself up, dusting off his hands and shifting up to crinos for the use of mother's tongue. The moon's grip seems to be significantly less on the ragabash, at least. ~Thank you all for coming,~ the Fianna says at last. ~As most of you know, Little-Silvertip-Mauls-The-Horned-Serpent has gone to take care of his own business. I don't know where he is going or when he'll be back. Wildfire of the Get of Fenris met me in honorable challenge.~ He seems to hold no ill toward the Get one way or the other, and finally he says, ~There has been much going on, and much that will need to go on. We need to pool our knowledges and get recovery into motion. But first, as that will probably take the longest, anyone have anything else that needs to be brought up to us all?~

 

Lefty doesn't seem to have anything to bring up. She remains where she sat down, cross-legged and in homid.

 

Jacinta rises to her feet as the alpha does. She looks toward the Get of Fenris as he's metioned, and then returns her gaze to the Fianna. Only after he finishes does she also take the war form, though from her expression, she has nothing to add just yet.

 

Topsy settles herself, cross-legged herself- although any resemblance between herself and the warder ends there. She takes in each person in turn, slight enquiry or expectation in her expression when she looks towards Mouse, Elliot and Jacinta.

 

First-Strike returns Scar's greeting, then slides up to crinos herself. The contraption she's wearing goes with her, though it looks no less awkward. ~Our safehouse was under attack by two banes. That's been dealt with, but I think this is a good time to mention that along with the Caern rite, I've also brought back one that will let us hide our more vulnerable places in the umbra. It's complicated, requires commitment and a great deal of effort, as well as a fair number of participants to make the effect permanent, but it's something we should keep in mind for the future.~

 

Oath-Ring looks distinctly interested at the Walker Elder's news, lifting his head from his forepaws with his ears perking forwards.

 

Scar lies down near First-Strike, getting comfortable and staying in his wolf-shape.

 

Wildfire makes no notion of anything awry nor bothersome as his challenge was mentioned, but as the new Alpha asks for news, he does speak, shifting upwards first intot he war-form and standing. ~A ronin seeked entry into the Tribe of the Get of Fenris. She has been denied and remains ronin.~ He tone is flat and perhaps almost uncaring about his own words.

 

Shockwave perks his ears forward toward First-Strike. ~I'm sorry to hear about the safehouse,~ he says, ~But also glad to hear you've dealt with it. And that rite will indeed prove useful. That rite will indeed prove useful; we should look into putting it in place for our most well-traveled safehouses at the least.~ To Owen, he looks a little wry, as though he knows of who he likely speaks of, and does not seem surprised, though he also has nothing to add regarding it.

 

Grapples with Fire's ears turn forward with interest at the information about the new rite, though Owen's news receives a less positive response. Her lip curls, briefly, in distaste before she turns back to Elliot. Perhaps it's the weight of the moon, but there seems to be impatience in her posture, now.

 

 

Topsy nods briskly to Mouse, looking pleased. Owen's news garners a small sigh and a slight pursing of her mouth, before she echoes Elliot's sentiments on the Rite with a small note of approval.

 

Scar looks not the least bit surprised at Owen's news; his ears twist into a wry angle.

 

First-Strike's ears flick at Owen's news, but nothing in it seems to garner surprise. Shockwave gets a dip of her head. ~All the rest of my news pertains to the current Caern crisis.~

 

Lefty remains aloof and apart from the others, mostly studying the ground in front of her. There are a few signs that she's at least following the topic of conversation though, as her eyes briefly look up at the various speakers.

 

Shockwave bobs his nose to First-Strike, and then moves on, straightening up. ~As most of you know, we went on a scouting trip into the caern. We know what we're dealing with, now, and it's not pretty. First: once you get into the main nest, they ignore you so long as you don't act against them. Second: the wasps there are /feasting/ on the wyld fruit. They are drunk on it. Literally. Perhaps this could be used to our advantage. However, getting the young queen out is not going to be easy. We might could take her using Taking the Forgotten, but I don't think that'd be a good idea, considering that we're trying to get them to /follow/ her.~

 

With a gesture to indicate Mouse, the Wendigo adds her own thoughts. ~I have suggested that Wendgio can bring winter to the hive. It may slow them down enough to assist.~

 

Wildfire lets whatever looks come his way wash aside without a bother. When the Alpha speaks on the scouting trip, he does speak up again. ~Why would they fight? If you free her, would they not follow?~

 

First-Strike dips her head again at Jacinta's words, wordlessly agreeing. ~Black-Light also suggested using metis to tunnel under the hive and into the central chamber. Not a bad idea, but I don't know if we have any metis here who know the gift at this point besides me. I could do it, but it would be much slower, and I'd be a liability in a close quarters fight.~ Her eyes flick toward Wildfire.

 

Oath-Ring sits himself up a bit, prodded by something the Fianna said. ~There are more wasp-spirits in the Umbra around Edgewood than there have been,~ he says. ~And less of the Wyld there. /Only/ there, of the outskirts. I tried talking to the wasp-spirits. It's mostly small gafflings, so a proper conversation is not possible, but, I /think/ they are eating the Wyld energy itself. Where they feed, it's getting less, I think...?~ He looks around at those others who might be expected to have an input to add. ~But, perhaps... if it's the Wyld they want... how do they tell each other where to find food? Could we tell them where to find more, a long way away?~ He sounds rather dubious about that suggestion, it must be said.

 

Lefty interjects, to First Strike, "Maddie might. Or Winter." She looks from the Walker to the others and then shrugs.

 

First-Strike nods, first to Norman, then to Lefty. While she doesn't say anything, it's quite clear she has things to say. The fur along her neck lifts visibly.

 

Scar quirks an ear. They're group-creatures. They must have /some/ way to communicate with each other.

 

~That would be good,~ Shockwave agrees with Jacinta. ~Slow them down for at least long enough for us to get out.~ And, to First-Strike, he considers. ~That could be a consideration, if you think you could get precisely where the central chamber is from underground.~ Oath-Ring's observation earns a hint of interest. ~They use scent, don't they? And body language? I'm not sure how we could mimic that.~ That last bit is not dismissive; it leaves the door open to more observation.

 

~Scent,~ Jacinta agrees. She looks to Mouse, one ear turning backward. ~Other spirits, other creatures communicate this way. We could ask their spirits to help us.~ Then her attention returns to Elliot. ~But I do not know that communication will be effective. If we could convince them we were the queen, that communication may have more impact.~

 

First-Strike licks her muzzle. ~Their antennae,~ she says. ~Touch, scent, hearing, though mostly the first two. The queen communicates via pheromones. It's how she attracts mates and controls the rest of the hive.~ Apparently there's a word for 'pheromones' in Mother's Tongue. ~Those beetles that your scouts saw going into the hive might be parasites. They might be endangering the young queen, but they also seemed to have a free pass.~

 

Scar pulls his ears forward. Communication, I don't know. But disguise? If it's in the Umbra, Chimera is the answer.

 

Some inner thought apparently crosses Wildfire's mind, his face scowling in distaste even though he keeps his silence.

 

Shockwave is clearly thoughtful. ~Which would mean smelling like the queen. Having the same 'pheromones'.~ Scar's addition causes him to make a low thoughtful noise, agreeable. ~If we could pull that off - 'talking' them into leaving - it would be a lot less messy and risky.~

 

~To answer your question,~ First-Strike tells Shockwave, ~Figuring out the logistics,~ Apparently logistics is /also/ a word in Mother's Tongue, ~of digging into the hive wouldn't be hard at all. Dig a certain number of feet down a certain distance out, dig a certain number of feet forward, dig up. We don't know the exact location of the egg chamber, but...~ she hesitates, then lifts one, hairy shoulder. ~I was in there. I could figure it out if that ends up being the best way. A disguise would be better though.~ Scar gets a sidelong glance before she looks back to the Alpha. ~Because if they come after us to kill us, even if we manage to get the baby queen to where she needs to be, we'll still have to deal with what to do then. I doubt the hive will be happy to let us leave. ...And speaking of 'where she needs to be', Scar and I know where that is now.~

 

Lefty looks up again, eyes shifting between the various garou and winding up on her packmate.

 

Grapples with Fire's ears twitch, but neither turn nor flatten. ~It is more than a disguise that is needed. A disguise that leaves you speaking the wrong language, or making the wrong gestures, will not be enough. We will need to be the queen, for any that observe or listen.~

 

Scar agrees readily with Jacinta.

 

Shockwave agrees. ~What if we look at ways to influence the queen, then? Get her to tell them where to go. If that's even possible.~ He huffs out a small breath, and then nods to First-Strike. ~Go on.~

 

Wildfire looks to First-Strike at her last statement, glancing very briefly towards Oath-Ring at that announcement, then back to the metis with an eyebrow, or its crinos equivalent, raised.

 

~I think she would have to lead,~ First-Strike says dubiously. ~She's in no shape for that, and the young queen is still too young for flight.~ The Walker elder straightens, even if it causes a brief wince. ~I know the meaning of Chimera's last vision, the one Grapples With Fire and I experienced when we went to her. Scar, the Corax, one of our kinfolk, and I drove out to Mount St. Helens last weekend. The spirits there are battling each other; Weaver versus Wyld versus Wyrm. There's a massive Wyrm spirit in the volcano--old Wyrm, balance Wyrm, but it sleeps. We spoke instead to the Spirit of the Lake. There's Wyld energy starting to spill out there, like it did here, and she's said that she'd welcome the wasps. The area is under quarantine by the humans; it's unlikely to be populated any time soon. Of any place in the area, it's the best one for our unwelcome guests. If we can just figure out how to /get/ them there, we'll have the Caern back.~

 

Grapples with Fire huffs out a breath, impatience and agreement both in her posture. ~A test, then. A way to disguise garou and communicate with the wasps. We test, and discover whether we can order them, guide them, bend them to our will. If so, we go. If not, we chill the hive and steal the queen, and run with them on our tails.~

 

Wildfire again looks towards his tribesmate at this talk of the volcano. As Oath-Ring keeps silence, Wildfire simple sucks on a tooth for a moment before falling into pacing.

 

Lefty's gaze falls on the Wendigo, and after a moment of thought, she seems to nod her agreement.

 

Shockwave listens to Mouse, and then turns his attention to Jacinta. ~Yes,~ he agrees. ~And the sooner the better. First-Strike,~ he says, redirecting over to Mouse, ~Can you and Oath-Ring see what you can do about talking to Chimera - or any other spirits you and the other theurges think would be appropriate - to see if we can get disguises? Otherwise, we start planning for stealing now, so we aren't left with more time wasted if this fails.~

 

Lefty pipes up now. "If we wind up stealing, who's gonna do it?" She again looks to the Wendigo, then back to the Fianna ragabash. "One of us?" she asks, meaning herself or Shockwave. "Or Jacinta? She can fly. And if the wasps are slowed by Wendigo, maybe she can go even faster than they can."

 

First-Strike dips her head. ~Agreed. We'll see what we can do. Skokiaan can get us a moonbridge to the mountain, and back, but we'll still have the problem of getting away from the wasps once the new queen is there.~ She glances toward Lefty. ~Maybe she can close the bridge as soon as we're back, and we can have the Ahrouns waiting to pick off whatever wasps manage to follow us--but if it's most of the hive, we're in trouble. And running over a moonbridge is never...safe.~

 

~I can fly as fast as the cars drive,~ agrees the Warder. ~But I am no ragabash. I can carry the egg once it is retrieved, but I am not the one to bring it out of the hive.~

 

Wildfire lts out a muffled snarl. ~Making any kind of an organized stand would be a waste. I have seen what they can do to at least a cub when aggravated. It was not pretty. I do not fear them, but others are not me.~

 

Shockwave thinks, listens to Jacinta, and considers more. ~One of us to go in and get it and bring it out. I would hazard to say two people go in at most - more people means more risk of getting caught. And then we can pass it off to Grapples With Fire, and she can take it away and get a head start. We don't want them on our tails.~

 

Lefty simply nods to Shockwave.

 

First-Strike's ears twitch back, and she looks at Wildfire. ~I was there too,~ she reminds him. ~If the ones that make it back here through the moonbridge are only a few, we'll be fine. The trouble happens if get more than that.~

 

~I will need First Strike or another with her knowledge on the other side,~ rumbles the Wendigo. ~To show where and how to place the new queen. I can carry one other with me as we return. In this, also, it seems that fewer would be better, and only on this side, after the wasps have gone, should the others assemble to defend against those who return.~

 

Wildfire simply uields a stiff, Prussian nod to First-Strike.

 

Shockwave nods to Jacinta. ~Agreed. The Get are preparing to clear the road to where we're taking them, aren't they?~ This is angled toward those of that persuasion.

 

First-Strike tips an ear to Jacinta. ~I'm willing, but I'll be...~ her muzzle wrinkles. ~Slow. Whether I'm digging or in the Umbra.~

 

Wildfire straightens back up as the Alpha speaks towards Oath-Ring and himself. ~Indeed. The tribe held moot and it was discussed.~

 

Grapples with Fire looks to Owen and the other, one ear twitching outward. Her gaze returns to Mouse and her jaws part. ~If you are at the destination, your speed will not impede us. I will carry you back when the egg is placed. If there is another with as great a knowledge as you have, you could remain here, instead.~

 

Shockwave nods to Wildfire, and otherwise doesn't interrupt Jacinta and Mouse's plans, though he does add generally, ~With that - and now that we have some plans to work toward - are there any other concerns anyone wants to bring up?~

 

~The Corax knows the location,~ First-Strike says, hesitantly, ~But I was the one to talk to the lake spirit. I can be there, waiting.~

 

Lefty doesn't seem to have anything else to add.

 

Grapples with Fire's lip curls in a snarl of distaste at the mention of the Corax, and she curbs the growl only with effort. ~You, then,~ she agrees, and looks back to the new alpha. ~I have nothing more. There is nothing more pressing until the caern is restored.~

 

~Outside of clearing the road,~ Wildfire mentions, ~if there is to be a known fight anywhere, I will be there. I have yet to and will not now fail this Sept, nor will any warrior under my charge.~

 

Pack> First-Strike gives the emotional equivalent of an exasperated eyeroll.

 

Shockwave listens, and then bobs his nose with finality. ~Noted,~ he says to Wildfire, and then huffs out a small breath. ~We'll consider this meeting done, then.~

 

Scar huffs out a breath and gets up, stretching.

 

First-Strike eases back down into lupus, though she doesn't seem quite inclined to rise from the ground yet. Her mood is thoughtful, pensive.

 

Grapples with Fire's jaws snap shut with the finality of the alpha's closing. She looks from one to another of those present and then slowly returns to her birth form, settling back into her cross-legged position once more.

 

Lefty looks tired. After the meeting breaks up, she climbs to her feet. Touching First Strike on the shoulder, she says, "I'm gonna head back." Without anything further, the Gnawer tucks her good hand into the pocket of her hoodie jacket to keep it out of the cold and begins to walk.

 

As the meeting breaks, unless anyone has anything else to say to or ask of him, Wildfire shifts back down into lupus before snapping his jaws in front of Oath-Rings' face to snap him out of whatever reverie he's now in as a preamble to heading back out of the area..