Caern Building

[renferret]

The time to reawaken the Caern has come, and it will be a long, long night.



Ritual Layout (PLEASE READ!)(#1855)

In the rich soil around the Great Tree, crossing beneath or over massive roots as necessary (but not actually carving them), have been etched three circles. The first and smallest rings the tree closest to the trunk, with the second and third much further out, closer to each other than the tree itself. Set at the four cardinal directions around the first circle are four bowls, each marked with an elemental glyph: Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. On the tree itself, the glyph for 'Spirit' has been painted with white clay, while at equi-distant spaces on the inside of the first circle are the glyphs for Helios and Luna, with Gaia largest and most prominent over them.

The second circle has also been marked at each of the four cardinal directions, though this time the Glyphs present are for four auspices: Philodox, Galliard, Ahroun, and Ragabash, with Glyphs for 'Protection' interspersed at even intervals along the rest of the circle.

Between the middle and last circle, the glyph for 'caern' has been traced many times, divided by the glyphs for every tribe of the Garou Nation, as well as the Stargazers. The final circle itself is divided into twelve sections by strange, exotic glyphs that only the more scholarly of Garou are likely to recognize as those representing the planetary Incarna, the twelve signs of the Garou's lunar zodiac, placed in the same order as the lunar calendar. A thirteenth glyph, akin to the others, rests just outside this last circle, not quite a part, but not quite separate. Those knowledgeable would recognize it as Rorg's sign.


The sun has just vanished behind the trees--setting, but not quite set. It's a clear night, cool and crisp, but without the hovering clouds and misty rain that's common to a Washington March. All around the center of the Caern, amid carved and painted glyphs, there's a sense of...not power, not sound, but, perhaps, anticipation. It's unclear whether that's an aspect of the prepared but still dormant Caern, or simply the nerves, but it feels ever-present. Bowls have been set at the cardinal directions of the first drawn circle, but a fifth bowl, larger, somehow distinct, clearly a salad bowl beneath the glyphs and paraffin wax, sits with Mouse, at the base of the massive tree. Mouse herself is in homid for the moment, having painted herself over with white clay, mud, and ashes. Apart from the strange, mechanical back brace she wears (which has also been painted to match), the Walker Theurge is entirely naked, bare feet and hands stained with dirt. Her metis deformity, including the grotesque, thin pink tail, is entirely visible. She wears two things around her neck; a simple feather and stone combination, and a metal stag with gold markings on a leather band. She sits with the bowl, head bowed, eyes closed, hands to either side of her.

While the alpha is normally a casual sort, now is not one of those times. He stands tall in crinos, almost every inch of his hide marked in swirling blue patterns and glyphs, even around his face; a symbolic cloth, blue, is tied around his upper arm, and, inexplicably, there's a small beaded creation tied into the crinos' thick ruff, hanging on to his chest - it looks like it was made by a child. The silver klaive has been cleaned and polished to a wicked gleam, and the ragabash looks every inch battle-ready. He's calm, not distracting Mouse.

Wildfire steps into the caern proper from the faint trails of the south, leading a short procession of Garou with him: Slash, Dirk, Charlene, and Helena. He presents himself to Jacinta and to Elliot. ~He haved formed under Wyvern for the defense of this rite. Place us as you will.~

In much the same state as she's been for the past several hours, Evac is in lupus, pacing the perimeter of the ritual site as the final preparations for the rite commence. She is quite clearly neither calm nor especially collected, and has acknowledged this fact several times, citing a hatred for the 'calm before the storm'.

Floating some 6-7 feet above the ground, in Lupus form - possibly looking a touch ridiculous - Whisper follows Wildfire and the temporary pack. Clearly, she is a scout of some kind, to be pointed in a direction.

Juggernaut is certainly notable as he moves to take position amongst those defending the prospective caern: looming large in crinos, short an arm with with every inch of his pelt gleaming steel. He doesn't pace, barely moves once he's in position, just resting at the ready like some huge metal statue.

Standing near Jacinta is a grizzled crinos, a single feather bound into the mane of fur behind her ear. Only those who have been present at the caern for nearly a decade will recognise White Bison of the Uktena, a visitor from the Sept of Midnight Fire. The two carry on a brief conversation before the Wendigo hefts her drum and moves to take her place. White Bison's lip curls with anticipation, and she steps toward the outer ring.

Scar, in Crinos, crouches in the place he'll have as part of the ritual, waiting with the intense patience and focus of a cat. (Even if he'd probably snarl at the comparison.)

Memory circles high overhead, a small pouch of something held firmly in her beak. Near her, a smaller black bird keeps pace.

Follows the Tradewinds stands in her place on the Rituals outer circle, devoid of decoration, aside from the brightly coloured plumage that she was born with.

Scars-of-Dirt walks to the Defender group, looking quite pathetic compared the the more experienced garou. Despite this, the crinos moves into the front row. Looking into the forest with his eyes full of fear. Before he breathes deep and hardens his gaze. For Gaia.

Unfinished-Business pads around in Hispo. She's eager, though hoping to hide it as she moves about. So many Garou, so much to see and yet, for once her mouth is shut as she moves to a place towards the south. Perhaps she should be wary, or even scared, but for now she's simply curious and eager.

Bad Moon Rising idly cracks his knuckles as he glowers at the surrounding forest.

Seeks-Raging-Water has already taken up the war form as she arrives at the site of the caern, two large sheathed knives hanging from a belt at her waist. The Shadow Lord Ahroun will take her place among the defenders, pacing about to burn off some of the nervous energy that's built up as the rite neared.

Bridge Builder settles at the outer edge of the caern, his gaze locked on Mouse, ears twitching backward in anticipation touched with worry.

Moving to her place in one of the circles to be danced, Pirate Trader is in Crinos and sombre. Focused, intent on the ritual layout, and briefly touching one clawed hand over her heart and then raising it up, a silent plea or prayer perhaps.

Oath-Ring is, like Mouse, in Homid for now. The extreme thinness from his ritual fasting is painfully obvious, as is the extensive ritual scarring across his torso and arms- which bear new markings carved into flesh for this present Rite. He is composed and ready in his place among the ritualists, but could not be mistaken for a statue. There is too much contained tension there to be stone.

Snakepatcher lumbers into the caern. The grizzled, much-scarred Uktena cranes his head to try to see the as much of the huge tree as possible, then lowers his head in homage, before turning to find a place among the defenders.

The Starcaller has taken his place among the other ritualists as well, in crinos perhaps out of inherent nerves, shifting his weight and looking about constantly before the rite proper begins.

Dives-Deep approaches as a wolf, the better for the Bone Gnawer to actually find her way out here, given her lack of familiarity with the bawn and its environs, and given how much her twisted feet slow her down, probably also the only way to cover so much distance in a reasonable amount of time. Once she arrives, she begins to look around for familiar faces, making her way over to stand near Starcaller as she joins the ritualists.

Shifting Briar stands with the other ritualists, quiet and composed as she looks slowly around at the others gathered. In crinos, she waits as her gaze finally moves to the one in the center. This is the kind of thing she has always wanted to be a part of and now the time has come.

Upside-Down strides to her place with the defenders, bright-eyed and vigorous and unconciously regal in Crinos. She doles out encouraging grins and words as she goes, generally trying to lift people's spirits and focus out of sheer force of confidence. Her new packmembers are more scattered than those of Owen's, among the Ritualists and the groups of defenders.

Battlecry , all white fur and polished crinos armor, moves to stand with his pack-of-the-moment, namely Owen. His armor gleams silver (but is clearly not actually silver) and etched with an abundance of icons, such as the moon phases, thistles, lions rampant, and so on. His sword, the grand klaive Aegis Radiant has been unsheathed, and he takes a moment to silently commune with the spirits therein.

From the stone firepit, Like the other ritualists, Keir is in homid, unclothed. His tattoos, rarely on display, are obvious - markings on his upper shoulders, the eye of horus across his chest, the dark 'X' marks across eyeless sockets. He's crosslegged on the ground in his designated place, hands on his knees, deep in meditation.

Earth-Whisperer and Ishmael, an odd cople, move towards the other ritualists so they can begin to take their places when needed. They are still in lupus and homid, respectively.

Peacemaker enters the Caern, also in Crinos, and moves to stand near the others that look like they're waiting for the ritual to begin. She attempts to look calm, composed, but there's a definite current of excitement within her.

Two extremely strange guests arrive together at the ridge. A large white tiger, siberian for those who would be able to tell, steps silkily out of the trees and pauses just before the boundaries of the dormant Caern. Riding on its shoulders is a black bird--not a crow or raven, as it turns out, but a magpie, its black and white coloring somehow complimenting the tiger's. Neither of the two make any effort to enter the Caern itself, but they're clearly waiting.

Song-of-Vengeance scans over the layout of the caern, the glyphs, the gathered throng, and, for the slightest second, looks a bit apprehensive. However, that moment passes in an instant and she straightens, standing with Wildfire, a glyph painted into the fur of her chest and shoulder in a striking crimson contrast to her gray fur. Glancing to the rest of her newly-formed pack, she steps away from them and moves towards the ritualists, standing near but not too near - like a kid at a school dance that isn't sure where the right place to stand is.

Draco, the metis Shadow Lord, has come in lupus--his thick, scaled skin completely furless. Joining the ritualists near Mouse, he takes crinos form and waits.

Friend-to-the-Fallen is also standing by the Jarl, as part of his temporary pack. She's more curious than nervous about all the Garou (and non-Garou) around her, and takes her time looking each member of the rite over. Still, there's a definite sense of excitement, and her white fur has a similar rune to the others in her pack.

Shockwave waits for some unheard, unseen signal, and then his nostrils flare. He bobs his nose to Owen, and then the blade in his hands is tapped against a rock, the noise singing to the caern, a clarion call for attention. ~Sept Members. Visitors. Allies. Friends, brothers, sisters. Tonight we take back what's ours. Tonight we awaken the sleeping! Tonight we will fight, and we will guard, and we will honor our ancesters and those who have fallen in defense of this caern by reawakening. Tomorrow morning, we will dine on honor, on glory, on victory!~ The Fianna ragabash bares his teeth in a grin. ~Those of you defending, those fighters, if you can spare yourself, give over what you can. This will be a long night. Gaia be with you all!~ With that definitive statement, he heads carefully over to Mouse to donate what Gnosis he can, apparently going first in a likely line of many.

Mouse finally lifts her head and opens her eyes, though they remain hooded, and her gaze is on the bowl, rather than her surroundings. She holds it up only a little of the way off the ground, like some sort of cosmic beggar. The Theurge looks as though her mind is on anything but the donations being given.

Shockwave, a bit exaggerated for example to others, cuts his hand, letting blood drip into the bowl.

The mapgie hops forward on the tiger's shoulders, to it's neck, and then it's head. Then it leans down to the beast's ear, and its beak moves silently for a few moments.

Bridge Builder slides upward from hispo to homid as he walks toward Mouse. His steps are slow, measured, and when he reaches where she stands, his gaze rises to meet hers. Even as he uses the small pocket knife to slice across his palm, his eyes remain on hers, though he doesn't say a word. When he's done, the knife returns to his pocket and he nods once before turning away.

Unfinished-Business looks towards the center as attention is called. When the request is made, she pads forward towards the bowl in order to wait her turn before nicking one foreleg with the claws from the other to allow a little of her blood to join that which is already in there. Eager to help, she steps back towards where she was.

Snakepatcher crooks his head, listening attentively to the Alpha, howling in agreement to tomorrow's plans for victory. He lines up promptly to donate blood to the grisly bowl and gnosis to the cause with a slash of claws through his arm.

Descending from her floating height, Whisper reaches a paw out to one of those there with knives or larger claws. Cut please, she asks, finding it difficult to handle herself in this shape, and flying. Understandible perhaps. She drips blood into the bowl assuming someone obliges, then begins to soar higher, to keep an eye on the surroundings.

Bad Moon Rising bares his teeth in a snarly way and lumbers up, the big oily metis adding his blood -- and gnosis -- to the effort, dragging claws across the scar on his chest.

Upside-Down moves forward with her packmate to add further to dark the red pool within the bowl, brisk and matter of fact, yet proper and not irreverent.

Scars-of-Dirt perks his ears as Shockwave tells the defenders to pitch in. The Philodox smiles, loping to Mouse. Once his turn comes, the dirty white and scarred Fang rips his palm open, letting it bleed for quite a bit. He takes few seconds to collect himself, and then returns to his spot in the front lines.

Once the magpie is done whispering (do magpies whisper?) whatever it is whispering to the tiger, it hops forward once more, then takes to the air as well. Rather than circling around the Caern, however, it banks south, beginning a wider circle only when it has gained some significant distance from the Caern itself. To those on the ground, it's lost from sight as soon as it clears the tree tops.

Now that things appear to be getting underway, Evac's pacing comes to an end. She listens attentively to the Alpha's words, and eases up into Crinos. The ragabash makes her way silently over to where Mouse stands, getting into line. When her time comes, the tall crinos gives all that she can spare, then steps back to rejoin the ranks of the Defenders.

Seeks-Raging-Water steps forward to follow the Alpha's example, drawing one of her knives -- a weapon with a blade of purple crystal that those present for the Great Hunt last year might recognize -- to start the flow of her blood into the bowl, though the gash is clearly already beginning to heal as she moves away so the next defender can do the same.

Memory voices a rasping greeting, as Whisper floats higher and eventually rises above the tree-tops. When the magpie rises above the trees as well, she makes a point of keeping an eye on it. Curious as always.

Mouse sets the bowl down even as people continue to donate, and stands. It's not an easy motion. It takes her several long, annoying seconds, she has to use one of the massive roots for balance, and when she gets to her feet she still doesn't seem steady. Her eyes, however, are clear, alert, and intense as she looks over the gathered Garou. "If you came here to die," she says firmly. "Leave. If you are dreaming right now of a glorious death for Gaia. /Leave/. I will not have you." She lets those words settle, then raises her voice a little. "But if you are here to live for Gaia, to fight for Gaia, to dance for Gaia, and to open her heart in this place once more, take your place, warriors! I am bursting with pride to stand among you!"

Scar stands up when Mouse does, watching the Walker Theurge intensely. Her speech makes him bare his teeth in a vicious and rather humorless 'grin'.

Bridge Builder gives a rough shake and then moves toward the outer edge of the caern, his path taking him closer to Topsy's group.

From the stone firepit, Keir stays quiet, meditative. The blind Stargazer keeps breathing evenly, not stirring even with all the events going on around him.

Wildfire pace up towards Mouse, much like Shockwave had just done, leading his pack up to give of himself for the rite. Slash falls into line with his packmates as they offer up their gnosis to the rite. He gives the small ivory cross that dangles around his neck a gentle squeeze before releasing it and making a small cut across his palm to complete his offering. Friend-to-the-Fallen moves with her packmates and waits her turn. Once she's up, she cuts her palm with a talon and gives up both blood and gnosis. Once she's done, she steps back in line with a soft grunt. Battlecry tests the ties and buckles of his armor, and then brings his fetish sword to the ready. He, too, bears a painted symbol like the rest of his pack.

White Bison circles the tree, giving a slow bob of her muzzle to the Glass Walker as she assumes her place.

Mouse surges up into crinos with the ease of someone returning to their birth form--and then, without further warning, she takes her claws to the palms of her hands, and then the pads of each foot, with vicious purpose. She howls to the darkening sky, a sound which beckons the ritualists to echo her.

The Starcaller's attention snaps to focus like a bone settling back into joint, all the jitters and nervousness up to this point suddenly gone as he orients on Mouse, his voice rising in a clear, strong call along with hers.

Lifting her head, body straining up onto tiptoes, Pirate-Trader howls from the very bottom of her lungs, resonant and powerful from long practice during other rituals, other times. Her voice entwines with those joining Mouse, beckoning the spirits to pay heed.

From the stone firepit, Flowing up into crinos like water, the metis Stargazer stands in one fluid motion. He joins the howl, voice devoid of the harsh viciousness of rage, instead holding a deep note of anticipation.

Shifting Briar moves forward to join Mouse and the other ritualists at the tree. Her crinos claws used to bloody her palms before placing them on the tree. She raises her head and joins her howl with the others.

Earth-Whisperer trots to his position, stops, and then lifts his head to the sky to join in with the exultant howls. Ishmael also surges to Crinos to join in with the howling as well.

Scar adds his howl to the others', his voice thunderous and rough.

Dives-Deep matches Mouse's shift to her birth form, albeit from the other direction, since she'd been in lupus. She joins the call even before she's completed her transformation, the tone altering as her form does, though always synching up with the rest of the ritualists.

Peacemaker tilts her head back to lend her own strong voice to the howl.

Tradewinds throws her head back and howls as Mouse does, her thin reedy voice joining the chorus of the other Ritualists.

As the Rite begins, Memory starts to expand her circle, settling in to an easy energy-saving glide that ravens are known for. Eventually, the Corax ends up some distance from the Caern, keeping watch for any enemies that may appear near the edges of the Bawn.

Song-of-Vengeance watches the gifts being given, silently, standing straight. She's taking slow, even breaths in an effort to keep calm but, when Mouse surges into Crinos and howls, her entire form swivels to face her, ears moving with an almost audible *click* to focus all attention on the rite master. Her voice is loud and strong, her howl echoing, powerful, welcoming. Almost pleading at times. Song lifts one hand, and one foot at a time, marking them with swift slashes from her claws before rising to her toes and howling with all she can muster.

Draco lifts his bony muzzle tot he sky to add his voice to the others. A sharp talon cuts the palm of his other hand, the act repeated in reverse, afterward.

Grapples with Fire hefts her drum, turning it around in her hand, the painted wolf on the stretched skin head almost seeming to run witht he movement. The switch, in her other hand, is remarkably still. When the Glass Walker begins the howl, the Wendigo joins, her voice low and dischordant, adding depth to the group. At the height of sound, the switch hits the drum head once, then again, and begins a slow, steady rythm.

Oath-Ring is in Crinos as the howl is still first gaining in volume, adding his eerie, keening note to the rising chorus. It pauses only long enough for him to contort himself, biting into palms and paws.

Upside-Down turns to face not inward, but outward, a standing sentinal alert to face anything hostile that might decide to make a visit.

The visiting Uktena theurge lifts her voice as well, surprisingly strong for a garou of her obvious age.

Scars-of-Dirt listens as the ritual starts. The Fang keeps his eyes focused, his jowls almost in a snarl as he watches and waits.

The hushed sense of anticipation remains hanging over the caern, even as the voices of the garou rise into the air and the drumming commences. Little moves outside the gathered group. It's as if every living thing with the ability to move has vacated the premises. Not a bird or a squirrel can be sensed. Even the air seems unusually still this evening.

First-Strike howls until she runs out of breath, and then she drops to all fours. What follows is a painful looking near-crawl, with her shuffling lower half and dragging tail most notable. In other times, this would look pathetic, pitiable, but somehow, now, it seems to fit perfectly with how the rite should go; must go. She leaves bloody hand and paw prints in the dust as she goes, and her progress toward the north--as that's where she heads--is agonizingly slow, even though she only has to reach the first circle.

The Walker metis stops at the small bowl on the north point, and blows gently over its surface.

~I breathe the sacred air,
Blowing strong, clean scented freedom,
It whispers in my ears; mysteries.
This is the center of the world.
Let none stand against me,
Let the world turn around me,
Let the wind never be far from my lips,
As I call the Kindred forth.

From all corners blow the breath of life. Sacred air, breathe within me.~

First-Strike drags herself next to the eastern part of the circle, where a second bowl waits, this time filled with kindling. She brings one bloodied hand over the surface, and fire sparks to life beneath her fingers.

~I kindle the sacred fire,
Claiming this land and time for my own.
The shape-fire burns bright,
This is the center of the world.
Let none stand against me,
Let the world turn around me,
Let me have a good fire,
As I call the Kindred forth.

I kindle the sacred fire in wisdom, love, and power. Sacred fire, burn within me.~

First-Strike next moves southward along the circle, stopping at the bowl there. Again she brings her hand over the surface, and this time water appears seemingly from nowhere, filling the bowl to the brim.

~I silver the sacred well,
From which five rivers of wisdom run,
Salmon swimming, hazel hanging high.
This is the center of the world.
Let none stand against me,
Let the world turn around me,
Let the well be deep with wisdom,
As I call the Kindred forth.

In the depths flow the waters of wisdom. Sacred waters, flow within me.~

The final destination is the west end of the circle, and the last bowl. First-Strike lifts her hand over it, and soil falls from her fingers where there was none before.

~I tend the sacred tree,
Towering high, hanging heavy with hazel,
Strength of Taranis, the thunder and wheel,
This is the center of the world.
Let none stand against me,
Let the world turn around me,
Let the tree be tall and strong,
As I call the Kindred forth.~

First-Strike stands again, with just as much difficulty, and makes her way, in a limping, shuffling fashion, back toward the massive, central tree. She tips her head back and puts her hands to the tree's bark, and says to the sky, ~From the depths to the heights spans the world tree. Sacred tree, grow within me.~

Scars-of-Dirt doesn't see any shuffling, so focused he is into the guard duty. But he hears the words and the howls. And the smell of blood. This all puts the neurotic Fang at ease.

The fur at the back of her neck prickling, Evac eases down to a crouch, her fingertips briefly brushing at the dirt as she mouths a silent prayer. Then she rises back up, watching First-Strike's progress with intense focus. With the only member of her pack present absorbed in the ritual, Evac has ended up nearby to the Alpha and Bridge Builder.

The Starcaller follows First Strike in towards the tree as the rite progresses, laying his own bloodied hands against the trunk as he lifts his voice in wordless entreaty to Mother Gaia.

Joining those by the tree, Pirate-Trader bites deep into each hand, then rests bloody palms against the trunk, voice lifting once more, raspy and full of hope.

First-Strike breathes deeply, then throws her head back again. ~Great Gaia!~ she calls. ~You who have given us life and purpose, you who embody all things, you who are in the ground and the sky, in the water and on the mountaintops, you from whom all living things sprang, we honor you here in your sacred place. Let your heart beat here once again, let your power be made manifest, and may you look favorably upon your children tonight.~ She brings her claws to her chest, digging in just enough to get a decent blood trickle over her hands, before she presses the blood and her palms to the tree trunk. ~Earth Mother, accept my sacrifice.~

Bridge Builder's ears remain focused on his own packmate, though his gaze shifts from the other Glass Walker to the world beyond the caern and then back to the Sept Alpha, and his claws dig into the soil.

Tradewinds steps forward, approaching the tree with carefully measured steps. At some point, she dug her claws in to her palms and now they are crimson with her own blood. She walks up to the tree and presses her hands against the trunk. ~Earth Mother, accept my sacrifice.~

Draco takes his cue from Mouse and moves from his place in the circle of ritualists to the Tree itself. The Shadow Lord places his bloodied palms against the enormous trunk and lifts his muzzle tot he sky to repeat the plea the Walker Elder gave.

Scar limps up to the tree, biting into his own palms as he does so, and presses his hands against the trunk. He howls as well, echoing Mouse's last words: ~Earth Mother, accept my sacrifice.~

The words stir something in Song-of-Vengeance, the Fury moving slowly toward the center tree with slow, even steps, finally resting her bloodied palms against the great tree at shoulder-height when she has reached it, her voice modulating with those calling for Gaia's blessing to this place.

Peacemaker moves to the center with the other Ritualists, cutting a hand with her claws as she does so, and she presses it against the tree. ~Earth Mother, accept my sacrifice,~ she echoes.

Shifting Briar bloodies her palm once more as she returns to the tree with the others, placing her hands upon the bark. ~Earth Mother, Accept my sacrifice!~ she adds her voice to the others.

Earth-Whisperer swells to his smaller crinos and slices his hands as the others, lumbering his way to the tree and resting hands thereon. Likewise, Paladin wounds his crinos hands as well, moving to place them against the tree. They both say, ~Earth Mother, accept my sacrifice!~

From the stone firepit, Pathfinder takes a deep breath, exhaling it out slowly. Then he bloodies his palms without so much as a flinch, pressing his palms to the wood. ~Earth Mother, accept my sacrifice.~ The words are soft, reverent.

Though the drumming never ceases, the Wendigo ahroun makes her way to the center, first nipping her hand and then touching the tree between beats. ~Earth Mother, accept my sacrifice,~ she rumbles before returning to her place.

White Bison paces quickly forward, making her own sacrifice of blood before returning to her place on the circle.

Dives-Deep shuffles forward, the table leg she uses as a walking stick almost comically small when she's in crinos, her bracelets jingling faintly with the movement as she first bloodies her own hands and then places them against the tree. ~Earth Mother, accept her sacrifice.~

Oath-Ring traces his way around the glyphs on the dirt before ending his path in bloodied hand-prints pressed against the tree. ~Earth Mother, accept my sacrifice!~ he says in turn, firm and without hesitation. In turn, he goes back to his place.

The call to Gaia triggers a shudder in the air. It's a momentary thing that some might think they simply imagined--if it wasn't followed by an all too real shudder from the earth itself. The ground moves beneath the garous' feet, making some unsteady. The leaves in the great tree rustle, and the air seems to push out in all directions, creating a slight breeze. The hackles on all the garou present prick and rise as if the atmosphere were suddenly charged. The vigilant defenders remain uneasily idle, no targets or problems in sight. And yet, that stirred breeze brings back the first sounds of approaching danger--the cacophony of distant, disturbed howls.

As the Ritemistress recites, Wildfire has begun preparing, his sking turning thick and warty while his claws now glint in silver, the burning pain of which causes him to start pacing to burn off the buildup. Friend-to-the-Fallen keeps alert, eyes flicking back as she listens to the howls and the Theurge's words. Battlecry has taken up a defensive posture, trusting that those participating in the rite are full capable, while he scans ahead for potential threats. As Mouse begins to chant, Slash's outline becomes more indistinct, his scent shifting to match that of a harmless woodland creature as he prepares for the coming battle.

Shockwave stands tall but still as the ritual begins, his breathing calm and even. He looks down to Kavi and Riley, bobs his muzzle once, and then activates a fetish he had been given earlier.

Seeks-Raging-Water draws the second of her crystal knives, holding them both at the ready now that the rite has begun, her attention divided between watching Mouse and keeping alert for intruders.

To the caern, Shockwave: Talen, not fetish.

Bad Moon Rising stiffens at the sound of those distant howls, his head lowering, a low growl escaping from behind bared fangs.

Unfinished-Business is glad she's on all fours in her hispo form as the ground begins to move in response to the ritualists. Her ears twitch here and there, her eyes looking about as she dances a little where she stands, the better to keep her footing.

Scars-of-Dirt snarls the the sounds, blue eyes seemingly blazing with anger.

The white tiger turns toward the sound of the howls. There's no sign of fur hackling from the beast, though it does let out a low, perturbed growl, and it is no longer sitting.

Scar, back in his assigned place, ignores everything but the ritual; the old halfmoon's concentration is absolute.

With Weasel's boon to help his balance, Oath-Ring keeps his feet without fear of losing focus on the Rite.

If First-Strike notices the distant sounds of danger, there's no sign, though her eyes seem almost brighter at the response from the earth. ~Luna, Lady of the Many Faces! You who have given us our natures and our roles, you who command our Rage, you who create and protect the silver paths through the Umbra. Younger sister of Gaia, sister of Helios, we honor you here in this sacred place. Turn your eyes toward us tonight.~ Again, she brings her claws toward her chest, and a second trickle of blood joins that already on her hands, before she once more presses them to the tree trunk. ~Luna, accept my sacrifice.~

You paged InleRah with 'Turtle would head toward the direction of that sound, while keeping an eye out for any more silent flankers.'.

~Luna, we salute you. Luna, accept my sacrifice,~ Pirate Trader echoes a moment after Mouse, smearing more blood to the trunk of the tree.

Snakepatcher's hackles twitch as the Uktena scans the horizon for the not yet visible source of the howls. ~Oopsie! Something heard /that/,~ Upside-Down remarks as she hops a bit to keep her balance, and then grins at Snakepatcher. ~Ready for show-time?~

~Luna, accept my sacrifice,~ the blind Stargazer echoes, breathing out his nose as he presses his palms to the tree. His attention seems held fast on the rite.

The ground quaking beneath her doesn't shake Evac. She seems to move along with the trembling, keeping her balance. The howling, however, does effect the ragabash. She turns her back on the ritual circle, her eyes narrowing. Her jaw sets, and she casts a look to Shockwave, her lips briefly quirking. ~...What's a few Dancers compared to a wasp train?~ Her nervous energy appears to have boiled off now that much of the waiting around seems to be at an end.

The ritual, now just starting, has transfixed Charlene, the Fury marking her chest with her claws. ~Luna, accept my sacrifice.~ she intones lowly, palms pressed against the smooth bark of the trunk.

Draco once again touches bloody palm to the great tree, the Shadow Lord echoing the Walker's plea. ~Luna, accept my sacrifice.~

Shifting Briar presses her bloody claw to the tree again with the others, ~Luna, Accept my sacrifice.~ she intones.

Tradewinds lifts her arms and spreads her pseudo-wings, leaving the left arm up and she uses a claw on her right hand, to make the blood flow on her left arm. Staining her brightly coloured feather's crimson. ~Great Luna, guide to us all, accept my sacrifice,~ she says, gathering up some of her blood and pressing it against the tree.

~Luna, accept my sacrifice,~ rasps Scar, adding his blood to the tree. His tone expresses the kind of love and respect that comes from a... complicated relationship.

Peacemaker claws the skin of her other hand and presses it against the tree, "Luna, accept my sacrifice.~

~Luna, accept my sacrifice,~ Oath-Ring chimes in, with a second bloodied trail to the tree and back.

Once again both athro Uktena and Wendigo step forward. The beat of Jacinta's drum takes on a richer tone as she shifts position some, and her lip curls from her teeth. ~Luna, Guide of our Hearts, accept my sacrifice,~ she rumbles, and reaches out to make her offering without allowing the drumming to falter.

The Starcaller echoes the other ritualists with his bleeding hands pressed to the tree, ~Luna, accept my sacrifice.~

Wildfire continues his pacing, pausing only briefly at the sounds of distant howls. A low rumble escapes from his chest now even as he cracks his knuckles in anticipation. Friend-to-the-Fallen 's ears perk up, and her lips curl into a snarl at the howls. Slash keeps his balance despite the tremors, although he promptly looks to Owen at the sound of the howls, asking a silent question. At the sound of the howls, Battlecry concentrates, filling his fetish with gnosis and activating his gifts. Within a moment, the sword glows and explodes in silvery-white lunar light, blanketing his form over his armr--the luminescence so bright it makes him difficult, even painful to view. The light spreads outward, a good hundred feet, alighting upon his packmates and protecting them as well (though not quite as brightly).

Earth-Whisperer and Paladin follow the others, adding their gnosis and blood. "Luna, accept my sacrifice."

Dives-Deep shuffles forward to the tree again, her bloodied hands staining her walking stick as well as the tree. ~Luna, accept her sacrifice.~

The eyes in the sky get the first look at those that come to crash the party. They must have been close to begin with to get here so fast. There's no time for the defenders to consider whether this was dumb luck, precognition, or whether the Dancers had spies. Six of them come crashing through the forest to engage. Memory calls out the direction first, and its echoed by the magpie. East. Whisper sees them moments later, and then they emerge: The first is a huge, hulking and shaggy crinos mass with dripping sores and a gaping mouth of teeth. Two scrawny hispo wolves run at his side. The last three come in a second wave, each wielding jagged blades in each bulky hand.

First-Strike brings her hands once more to her chest. ~Helios, Burning Prince! You whose warmth and light nurture all upon Gaia's surface, who raises up the plants and the trees, whose mighty fire burns the hungry dead and blinds those who walk in dark places, you, from whom the Wyrm's minions cower and seek shelter, we honor you here in this sacred place. Turn your eyes toward us tonight, so that we might see you rise in glory again.~ And then, one final time, her palms return to the tree trunk. ~Helios, accept my sacrifice.~

Juggernaut explodes into motion the instant a target is visible, literally moving faster than something his size should be able to in a blur of steel, headed straight for the advancing Dancers with a furious war-howl echoing deep in his chest. He doesn't bother aiming towards the smaller flankers; this Ahroun's barrelling straight into the biggest threat he can see.

The Starcaller, lost in concentration to the rite, doesn't even flick an ear towards the sounds of impending violence as his voice joins with First Strike's in a call to Lord Helios.

Draco draws a talon across his chest and then presses palm to it in order to paint the tree with his blood yet again. Once more, he lifts his muzzle and adds his rumbling plea to that of the other ritualists. ~Helios, accept my sacrifice.~

~Helios, accept my sacrifice.~ Earth-Whisperer says it first, then Paladin, as they both follow suit and then return to their designated spots. Earth-Whisperer glances towards the noise, but focuses on the rite.

The white tiger roars, a sound which might well be drowned out in the sudden onslaught of battle. Then it lunges--graceful power--at the nearest of the Dancers, moving along with the packs of defenders as though it belonged.

~Helios, golden father and radient brother, accept my sacrifice,~ Nieve rumbles low, dragging smears of her blood down along the trunk.

Shifting Briar renews the blood upon her palm as she did before and places it upon the tree trunk again. ~Helios, Accept my sacrifice!~ she intones before stepping back to her place in the circle as she begins moving around it. Her mind upon the ritual.

Memory circles back at the battle is joined, dropping the satchel she is carrying in her beak and aiming for the face of one of the three Dancers in the second wave of attackers. As soon as her package is dropped, she drops below the treeline and out of view. Maybe to get more ammunition?

Tradewinds' ears lay back at the sound of battle, but she stays focused on the Ritual. ~Helios, bringer of warmth and light, accept my sacrifice.~

~Helios, accept my sacrifice,~ Scar echoes, with feeling. He presses bloody palms once more, then straightens and limps back to his spot as Guardian for the ritual. And there he stays, as if rooted.

~Helios, accept my sacrifice~ echoes Peacemaker, placing her hand against the tree once more to offer a third sacrifice of blood. After that, she ignores the noise around them, moving to take her place in the circle.

~Helios, accept my sacrifice...~ murmurs Song-of-Vengeance, offering her blood a third time to the caern.

Where Salem had a complicated relationship with Luna, the Wendigo ahroun seems to find complexity in her connection to Helios. ~Katanka-Sonnak, Daylight Fire, Helios,~ she rumbles, and again brings her fire-scarred hand to the tree. ~Accept this sacrifice.~

Pathfinder seems to have absolute trust in the defenders, as he doesn't look in that direction. ~Helios,~ he murmers, cutting himself again and adding his blood to the now-red-streaked tree, ~accept my sacrifice.~

Bad Moon Rising moves to intercept the incoming Dancers, fanged muzzle gaping open, hungry for violence, his lumbering pace unhurried but eager.

Unfinished-Business's eyes turn towards the first of those that burst in to try and disrupt the ritual. Her first sight of the dancers and her eyes go a little wide. She shifts from paw to paw as she watches the first of the defenders run in to clash with the invaders before turning her attention to the trees to the south as if expecting someone or something might try to come from that direction.

Scars-of-Dirt is on the front line for a reason. Now it is do or die, to redeem himself. The young philodox lunges towards the big Dancer after Juggernaut, pale claws ready to rake the beast.

Eyes locked on his task, though the skin where his hackles would be is prickling with goosebumps, Oath-Ring steps forward and gives his blood-sacrifice to Helios.

Shockwave's grip tightens on the silver blade, and the ragabash bares his teeth. ~To arms!~ he bellows, and then moves straight into the action, aiming to drive the silver klaive right into the heart of the first Dancer he encounters.

Seeks-Raging-Water takes a moment to study one of the larger of the advancing adversaries as he crosses the distance toward the line of defenders. Only then does she charge at the foe, moving to meet the adversary head-on.

Following Elliot's lead on all fours, Evac lunges out several paces ahead of where the Alpha stops, and disappears entirely from sight and sense.

Bridge Builder's lips curl, and his shoulders hunch as he follows after the alpha. He takes in the sight of the enemy, and his gaze focuses on one of the second wave, hardening for a moment in concentration.

First-Strike turns from the tree now, shuffling her way back, though with a sense of purpose that is evident even despite her partial paralysis, to the Gnosis bowl. As she goes, she nods toward the other ritualists, giving them the sign to return to their places and begin the dance.

Wildfire is apparently of the same thought as Juggernaut, launching himself that way as well with rage-feuled speed. Friend-to-the-Fallen lets out raspy cry and pushes towards one of the flankers, talons out and jaws open for a side attack. Slash attempts to vanish into the grass and woods. Where some of his packmates meet the threat head on, he aims to circle around and come in from behind them with his own attack. Battlecry surges towards one or two of the weapon-wielding Dancers, moving to parry their blows with his klaive, and otherwise keep them busy. Should their bladeskills not be up to the task, the grand klaive will seek their flesh.

With so many heavy hitters already charging into the fray, Upside-Down instead takes a moment of time to look around those scanning for other threats, lest the obvious should prove the divertion. Even after none come in, she does not charge straight to the fight, but places herself and Snakepatcher as a bulwark, part way between the fight and the ritualists, to pick of anything that should break through.

To the caern, Upside-Down: off*

Song-of-Vengeance slips back from the tree, head held low backing away like one would when faced with royalty, only turning when she's several paces away, returning to her place to begin to dance.

Tradewinds returns to her place and starts to dance. A slow foot-pounding shuffle that grows more animated as the ritual continues.

Dancing. This is clearly what needs to be done, now. So, seeming completely oblivious to the fray not so far away, Pirate-Trader throws herself into the movements, graceful enough through long years and practice even if she isn't a particularly /natural/ dancer.

Dives-Deep's hackles rise as the sound of battle begins behind her, but she takes a deep breath and keeps her focus on the rite, trusting that she'd get a warning from her packmates if the situation were dire enough that she needed to be concerned. Dancing is not really something that she's adept at, since her feet make balance difficult even for walking. In her case, the 'dance' is more a shuffling of her feet, a swaying of her body, and a thumping of her walking stick against the ground.

He was named Calls the Stars to Dance, and in this the Gnawer lupus seems to know what he's doing as he joins in the ritual dancing around the tree.

Shifting Briar dances in a wide circle with the others, interweaver her steps with those headed in the opposite direction from her. Her mind focused, she ignores the combat nearby as if it wasn't there.

There is nothing in Oath-Ring's movements that would be recognised by a teacher of any dance style whatsoever, yet it is undeniably a dance. A ritual dance, the rhythm of his feet pounding the gound in time to the drum as he traverses slowly around the circle, in and out of the other ritualists.

Pathfinder is blind. His dancing shows this. However, there is a certain grace to his motions, simply born of natural dexterity.

Grapples with Fire stands at her mark, her drum beating out the rhythm of Mouse's heart. Her eyes are only on the ritemaster, all her focus inward on maintaining the ritual.

First-Strike drops to her knees in front of the Gnosis bowl, a heavy, uncoordinated maneuver. Her elbows first brush the bowl's edges, and then hit the dirt as well, and she brings her head down over it. ~Let the fire open as a gate,~ she says quietly, and then louder, until it's a shouting call to rise over the cacophony of battle. ~Let the well open as a gate, let the air open as a gate, and let the tree connect all the worlds. Let the gates be open!~

Scar stands as though made of stone, breathing slowly and steadily, his mismatched eyes half-lidded.

Circling with the others, the ancient Uktena moves through the steps of the dance with the practiced ease of long familiarity.

Peacemaker continues moving rhythmically around the circle, her steps matching the beat of the drum as best she can as she interweaves with the other dangers.

Tradewinds continues to dance, bright feathers making her stand out among the ritualists, as she moves around the circle.

Song-of-Vengeance follows the dance, her steps halting but, as she gains confidence, more solid and striking, thudding into the dry ground.

The massive bulk of the leading Dancer slams into Juggernaut, and despite the Walker's name, it's the Dancer that wins that argument. A swipe of the giant's arm sweeps Urick to the side to tumble into the moss and ferns at their feet. A snarling, froth filled mouth then attempts to clamp down on Wildfire's neck. The Get and the Dancer become a blur of froth and blood. Shockwave's klaive impales the hispo to the giant's right. A death rattling squeal and cry come burbling up from the thing's bloody throat as it scratches and claws at its attacker in a feeble effort to survive. One of the blade wielding Dancers gives a cry, too, as his blade is suddenly glowing red hot. He discards it as quickly as he can, distracted from further attack for the moment. Battlecry the Silver Fang slams his own klaive against the blade of the second wielding Dancer, and the two pair off, trading slashing blows. Bad Moon rising encounters the hispo to the left of the giant, and it lunges at the metis Fury, teeth aiming for his throat. Unfinished Business harrasses the third knife-weilding Dancer, the one that Seeks Raging Waters was eyeing.

As the first channeling of gosis from the ritualists comes to a conclusion, another pulse of air ripples out from the center tree. This time the breeze it creates is stronger. The atmosphere becomes even more charged, and the feeling of anticipation and nervousness increases.

Bad Moon Rising drops his muzzle to meet teeth with teeth, making a grab for the lunging Dancer as he does so, attempting to grapple the Wyrm-tainted Garou and bring his own considerable weight to bear against his enemy.

Scars-of-Dirt watches Juggernaut smack into the ground. The Philodox has no time to wince or whimper. But he sees the frothing mouthed Dancer try to bite wildfire, the crinos snarls visibly and aims for the streched neck of the Dancer, calling Luna's gift to him to help him tears into the Rotten Wolf.

Juggernaut hits the ground with a resounding boom as he's batted aside, actually skidding for a bit before managing to stop himself and get back to his feet, thence lunging straight back into the fray! His target remains the largest of the bunch, and this time his assault is led with teeth and claws instead of a raw charging tackle.

Memory returns to the skies with another package held in her beak. This time, she tries to drop her bomb on the face of the largest Dancer.

Tradewinds continues to dance, doing her best to ignore the nearby battle.

Shifting Briar continues to dance, getting her arms into the motions as she continues along with the others, interweaver her path with those circling as well.

Friend-to-the-Fallen is right by Bad Moon Rising, attacking the same Dancer. She rushes in with tooth and claw, snarling loudly.

The new packmates under the Triune Goddess, Upside-Down and Snakepatcher, hold their line. Rage and battle-readiness tempered with experience they stand a little apart from each other, alert to anything that gets past those Garou already engaged in combat and poised to react on the instant to stop anything from reaching the ritualists they protect.

Unfinished-Business growls as she harrasses that knife wielding dancer. Not getting past her! Nope, not a chance! She lunges in with teeth snapping as she takes on her opponent! Gimmee that leg!

Grapples with Fire's lips curl in a grimace of pain, ears twisting back as the first of her spirit is taken.

Shields the Young dances on, despite the pain, not letting her steps falter as she makes her way around the circle.

White Bison dips her head, leaping with the next step to turn a full circle in the air. She allows no sign of pain to enter her posture or expression.

First-Strike breathes in deeply, pulling herself up in the same motion, though she remains on her knees, slightly bent over the bowl. The Walker metis raises another howl to the sky, slightly more ragged than the first. ~Great Lords of the Quarters, a child of the Earth calls out to you! Turn your gaze to us as we honor you in turn, mighty ones, and look well upon your children tonight. Let your people join us in our blood dance for the Mother, let the world know their faces! Great Lords of the Quarters, we call to you!~

Tradewinds continues dancing, the feathers of her pseudo-winds turning ever more crimson as the ritual progresses.

~Wise and cunning and honourable, glorious and mighty, clever and brave all, great totems we call,~ Pirate-Trader echoes after First-Strike, continuing to move through the dance, paying not so much as a hair of attention to the raging battle beyond the circle they stand within. Claws lift to rake down along her sides now, letting blood seep through her fur and colour her footsteps.

The instant that Shockwave picks a target, Evac emerges from the invisibility of her Gift and launches herself at the impaled Hispo, claws and jaws seeking the creature's throat and a swift end to its thrashing.

Seeks-Raging-Water gives Unfinished Business a brief nod as the two square off against the blade-wielding Dancer. She does her best to time her attack with the Wendigo's, coming in from the Dancer's left side with a slash from her blades.

Shockwave gives his blade a vicious twist and then yanks it free of the fallen Dancer, then turns to the next nearest, armed and ready and mindful of those near him.

Bridge-Builder circles around, activating his gift again on the weapon of the Dancer Lex is squaring off with.

Scar howls along with First-Strike as he drags claws down his right arm. For once, the Phildox has not activated his Gift, and his rough voice is edged with pain.

Peacemaker lets out a howl to join First-Strike's and claws a small gash on one arm with her claws. ~Hear us, accept our sacrifice!~ she pleads as she continues dancing.

The battle going on behind is only an afterthought as Song-of-Vengeance moves with the ritual, blood staining her fur as she offers her life to the Caern.

Pathfinder continues the dance, and sinks his claws into his arm, and he howls along with the rest. The battle is in another world for him.

Shifting Briar drags a claw along each arm to let some of her blood flow! ~Listen to our calls, Hear us! Accept our sacrifice!~ she calls out as she continues to dance the circle. Her words turning into a howl at the end.

Oath-Ring's eyes glitter and a grin splits his face as the Rite draws out his spirit, looking every bit as though he enjoys the soul-wrenching pain. ~Hroovitnir, Vanagandr!~ It's no mere drop of blood that Oath-Ring gives this time. With bone-handled knife in clawed hand, he carves whole glyphs into the already-marked skin of his forearm, his howl touching on each Totem in turn, in poetic kenning, by allusion, by attribute, by riddle.

Wildfire is honoring his Giant Dancer of a target by giving it nothing but his full concentration, continuing to swipe, claw and bit and he gets to the heart of the matter.

Friend-to-the-Fallen's aggression just increases as she aims to strike and pounce away, then repeat the strategy as often as she can.

Battlecry parries enough to give his compatriots time to hit the enemy's flanks, and then feints against his opponent while flashing the lunar brightness of his sword, hoping to blind the dancer so he can skewer it through the middle.

Earth-Whisperer offers yet more blood to the ritual, raking his chest so the crimson can soak his already reddish fur. A guardian, he remains where he is. Paladin, meanwhile, dances with the lot, shedding blood by raking his arm.

Grapples with Fire's voice lifts again, the rhythm of the drum picking up to match the fury of the sound and then slowing again to keep a steady pace.

White Bison's arm opens, though no weapon is immediately visible, and her blood flows freely for a moment to color the ground along her dancing path.

Again Shields the Young lifts her voice to howl, and she offers her sacrifice with each steady step.

First-Strike brings her claws to her left arm and digs them in, so a few drops of blood glisten on the impossibly, unnaturally white fur there. ~Cockroach! Father of ten thousand thousand children, patron of the Glass Walkers, ancient and adaptable child of the Mother, aspect of Wisdom!~ She lets the blood drip slowly into the Gnosis bowl. ~Wise Cockroach, accept my sacrifice.~

Tradewinds howls and slices at her arms, blood flowing freely now. ~Accept our sacrifice!~ Her feet continue to move as she dances, completely lost in the ritual and no-longer really aware of the fighting that is going on around her.

~Cockroach, cunning and wise, bless this place and accept my sacrifice,~ Pirate-Trader exults along with the rest of her Tribe, mentioning other Totems she has worked with also, Rat in particular.

Shifting Briar feet continue to move as she dances on. ~Pegasus, your daughters stand tall and strong! Accept my sacrifice!~

Scar has no fancy words; he just howls in honor of his adopted tribe's totem.

~Cockroach,~ rumbles Grapples with Fire, though she doesn't move from her spot. ~From whom we learn wisdom and adaptation, accept my sacrifice.~

Dives-Deep uncorks a small vial on one of her bracelets, removing a tiny piece of bread, which she crumbles and sprinkles on the ground, an extra bit of sacrifice to the tribal totem of the Glass Walkers as she call on the spirit to accept the sacrifice.

There may be scars after this ritual from all the slashes, but they are marks that Song-of-Vengeance will bear with pride. She offers her blood to Cockroach willingly, lifting her bloodied arms to the sky. ~Accept our sacrifice, Cockroach. ~

Bad Moon Rising slams the hispo to the ground, bringing his weight to bear. The two become a blur of fur, rage and blood. The Dancer's stomach is exposed to the metis's vicious attack, and soon that blood flow is a river. The Get, Friend to the Fallen, only compounds this with her own teeth and claws, and the Dancer soon expires with little more than a gurgled whimper at the end. Unfinished Business gets a hold of a foot, only to have the Dancer's blade sink into her haunch. Raging Waters' attack comes at just that moment. Though it's too late to stop the Wendigo being wounded, the Dancer never sees Raging Waters coming. Her blades cut at the Dancer's throat and shoulder, opening deep wounds. He turns with a snarl toward the Shadow Lord, pulling his blade from Unfinished Business's haunch. Even as he does, the weapon suddenly glows bright red, and like his brother before him, he quickly discards it. Shockwave's initial blow nearly finished the hispo off, and what it didn't Evac certainly does. The thing falls in a bloody, ignominious slump to the ground. Battlecry and his opponent briefly resembles swashbucklers as they trade blows, neither seeming to get the upper hand, until the Silver Fang's trickery. Momentarily distracted, the Dancer snarls as the klaive pierces skin. The third blade wielding Dancer, deprived of his weapon, decides to simply throw himself into the foray and attack Unfinished Business. He doesn't actually reach her, however, as Slash jumps him from behind.

~Accept my sacrifice, Great Pegasus...your daughters beseech your blessing for this great event.~ Song-of-Vengeance sighs, dancing in place.

~Cockroach,~ Pathfinder rumbles, voice deep, ritualistic dancing continuing, ~Accept our sacrifice.~

Bad Moon Rising, bloody and bloodied, spends perhaps one moment too long in strangling the dead Dancer before letting go of the corpse and standing up to survey the battleground for another target.

First-Strike calls again, ~Chimera! Lady of Mirrors, patron of the Stargazers, the everchanging child of the Mother, aspect of Wisdom!~ Blood continues to trickle down her arm, staining the fur, into the bowl. ~Dreaming Chimera, accept my sacrifice.~

~Lady of Mirrors, accept my sacrifice!~ Scar howls out, dragging claws down his other arm.

The massive giant lets out a roar that would shake the courage of heroes. But it doesn't seem to stop Owen from sinking his teeth into the thing's throat. Nevertheless, this giant is a match for the big Get, and it actually lifts Owen off the ground. Juggernaut recovers from his fall to slam into the thing's back, which forces him to put Owen down. Again, thre become a mass of fur and slashing claws. Scars-of-Dirt adds himself to the melee, all three of them in orbit around the giant Dancer. The three Gaian garou begin to have an affect, the open sores of the massive Dancer mixing puss with blood now.

~Dreamwalker, riddletalker, mirrormistress, ever-shifting.~ With bone-handled knife in hand, Oath-Ring carves the Glyph for Chimera into his arm as his feet continue to find their steps for the rite.

~Chimera,~ Pathfinder rumbles, his tone mixing more with fondness and reverence, ~accept my sacrifice.~ Blood flows, feet still move.

Juggernaut snarls as his claws find purchase in the back of his foe, before lunging his jaws forward and apparently trying to climb up the hulking Dancer's back with his teeth and his single hand, tearing out chunks of meat as he goes.

Scars-of-Dirt doesn't think, just tries to kill. Kill, KILL. The Fang changes his target to the stmach of the monster, trying to rip its guts out.

Unfinished-Business's teeth clamp down upon that foot from the pain of the knife digging into her haunch. Her front claws then move to rake hard at the dancer that stabbed her as she hopes to at least distract the dancer while the other fighting it can get the strikes needed in to try and kill it.

~Ever-changing mistress of mirrors, accept my sacrifice,~ Pirate Trader bids to Chimera, blood flowing sluggishly down her body, leaving red footprints tha mingle with those of others.

Another line opens along the Uktena theurge's other arm and blood rolls down through fur to feed the earth as she makes her sacrifice.

Shields the Young squeezes her hand, opening it again to reveal the wound and release the blood as sacrifice to Chimera as she growls out the words.

~Ever changing teacher, who grants wisdom through dreams, Chimera, accept this sacrifice!~ Again, the Wendigo's drumming takes on a sharper rhythm and then slows once more.

~Lady-of-Mirrors, who marked me in a dream,~ Tradewinds says, running her claws across the scar on her chest as she continues dancing.

Above the Caern, Memory circles and watches, yet another small package held in her beak. Too her right, a smaller black form keeps pace.

Which each totem mentioned, Peacemaker makes another small cut into her flesh, sacrificing her blood as she tries to ignore the continuing chaos around them and continues along the weaving path of the dance. ~Accept our sacrifice, Chimera!~

First-Strike calls, ~Falcon! Noble Lord, patron of the Silver Fangs, steady and honorable child of the Mother, aspect of Respect! Honorable Falcon, accept my sacrifice.~

Shockwave changes targets to go for the one that Unfinished Business is tangling with; if it's not dead by the time he gets there, his goal is to find Dancer flesh, insert silver.

As soon as Evac feels the Dancer die in her teeth, she disengages from it and quickly assesses the battleground for her next target, her muzzle slicked with blood, pieces of throat-flesh lodged in her teeth.

Seeks-Raging-Water doesn't waste any time as Slash takes down the now dearmed Dancer that she and Unfinished Business were fighting. Assuming she can do it without hitting the Strider, she'll sink both her blades to the hilt in her foe before it has a chance to get back up.

From his position at the edge of the battle, Bridge Builder focuses on the last of the blade-wielding Dancers, a low growl coming from his throat.

~Honor unfaltering, truth unwavering, wings of unbreakable will.~ Oath-Ring adds the glyph for Falcon to the collection on his blood-streaked arm.

~Patron of truth and honour and wisdom, Falcon accept this sacrifice,~ Pirate-Trader howls, her gaze resolute on the ritual.

Wildfire is bloody now, and grinning. Not necessarily a pretty sight at all. He continues to claw and scrap at the big guy, his motions still feuled by what must be an inexhaustible supply of rage.

Slash grapples with the Dancer that he's downed, doing his best to keep the thing's attention focused on him so that the other two can more easily tear it to shreds.

Friend-to-the-Fallen steps back from Bad Moon Rising and the dead Dancer. She glances at the ongoing fight, snarling fiercely, then forces herself to look away and scan the area for more oncoming foe.

Battlecry is quick to take advantage of the Dancer's gap in his defense, wedging the sword into the Dancer's abdomen and attempting to run him through. He is quick to fall back into a defensive position after.

Scar echoes the other ritualists, adding another self-inflicted wound with each new totem named. The old Walker is methodical in his bloodletting.

Earth-Whisperer gives more of himself through each cycle of the totems, regardless of their nature. Even cockroach. Still, he stands steadfast, ready to defend. Paladin continues his dance, giving more blood with each turn of the circle.

First-Strike moves her claws to her palm, now squeezing drops of blood into the bowl. ~Fenris! Implacable warrior, patron of the Get of Fenris, mighty child of the Mother, aspect of War! Fenris the Unchained, accept my sacrifice.~

Song-of-Vengeance's flesh, at the end of this, will be ribbons, with slashes for each tribe's totem and a few spirits here to boot. ~Pegasus, the Bold, Fenris, the Strong, Cockroach, the Tenacious, Falcon, the Wise, hear us. Wendigo, Owl, Uktena, Fianna, Grandfather Thunder....hear our cries.~

There is no hesitation in the Wendigo's sacrifice, no sign of anything amiss in her voice or the way she makes her offering, but the very perceptive might catch the slight increase in tension in her shoulders as she addresses Fenris.

Dives-Deep is respectful in her calls and sacrifices to Falcon and Fenris, though there's no extra sacrifices for them beyond what the rite calls for, nor the obvious fondness that she evinces as she honors Chimera.

Upside-Down and Snakepeatcher continue not to be drawn into the current melee, holding themselves in reserve. Snakepatcher seems to be focussed on the giant Dancer, as he analyses its capabilities. Upside-Down, on the other hand, seems more intent on the Gaian Garou, assessing their injuries.

~Fenris, father of the fenrir-wolves and beloved of battle, accept this offering,~ Pirate Trader continues, reopening her wounds as the flow of blood begins to clot and slow, ensuring there is fresh blood for each of the totems.

Pathfinder shows Fenris no less than he did the others. ~Fenris,~ says the Stargazer, ~accept our sacrifice.~

Topsy's defenders get their first whiff of something to do. The underbrush rustles, but there's no howling screams or otherwise obvious announcement of the skull pigs arrival. Four of them burst from the undergrowth to attack the defenders from the west. Juggernaut climbs the beast of a Dancer till he reaches the top. His teeth sink into fur and flesh, ripping and tearing. The thing amazingly seems to ignore him. Likewise, Scars-of-dirt's tendon-ripping and savage attacks are ignored. It's the Get that has the giant's attention. Owen is slashed across the chest three times in faster than vision speed. The Get's face is cut deeply in a way that will most assuredly scar, if he survives. But the Get isn't without fight in him, and Wildfire unleashes a torrent of slashes to the thing's chest. The Giant's chest joins his leg, throat and back in becoming little more than a bloody mess. He simply will not go down, however. The Silver Fang buris his klaive into his opponent, who raises his own weapon to run through Battlecry's face. He gets it just ready to strike when the Glass Walker (Kavi)'s trick comes through for a third time. The weapon heats up quickly, and the Dancer drops it with a startled cry. Nothing stops Battlecry from finishing off the dancer after that. Samantha's wound is bad, but not enough to discourage her, and the Sahdow Lord, Raging Waters, has the Dancer without a weapon now. Shockwave and Evac have him in their sites now, too, and between the three of him, the Dancer ahs no chance.

~Fenrisulfr, Hroovitnir, Vanagandr!~ Oath-Ring carves his Tribal glyph deeply into his own flesh, not wasting further words on a Totem that values actions far higher than a clever tongue.

First-Strike shifts the self inflicted injuries from her left arm, now far more crimson than white, to her right one, which bears far more natural fur coloring. ~Grandfather Thunder! Father of lightning, patron of the Shadow Lords, commanding child of the Mother, aspect of Respect!~ She brings her right arm to the Gnosis bowl. ~Great Thunder, accept my sacrifice.~

Bad Moon Rising hasn't moved to assist those fighting the other Dancers -- likely thinking that his allies have those foes well in hand. So he's in place to notice the arriving skull pigs and drops to all fours to move at a lumbering lope to meet this new enemy.

Scars-of-Dirt he has been lucky, he has been good. The Fang gets excited and continues ripping the damn Dancer open.

Juggernaut doesn't stop until his teeth are buried in the back of the giant Dancer's neck, sinking his hindclaws into the beast's back as well to secure himself before reaching forward and going right for his foe's eyes, this attack less to inflict raw damage and instead aiming to outright blind the creature.

~Thunder, lord of mystery and secret, keeper of night and knowledge, accept this sacrifice,~ Pirate-Trader follows suit, never missing a step though her feet are slick with blood - as no doubt are those of many of the other ritualists.

The magpie reappears over the treetops, one white-tipped wing dipping down toward defenders and attackers alike as it circles. Beady black eyes focus on the Fenrir Jarl, and the giant he grapples with, before it darts off in the direction of the oncoming Skull Pigs.

Jacinta's sacrifice to Thunder is much as that she gave to Fenris, clear and succinct.

White Bison's arms are both now red with blood as she gives her sacrifice to Grandfather Thunder, her voice still clear despite the energy used in her dance.

Snakepatcher has to take his attention off the giant, ending his deliberations, as more company joins the party. The burley Uktena leaps to welcome the pigs with claws. Upside-Down is leaping forwards too, letting loose an almighty, air-shuddering, blood-curdling bellow directed at the skull pigs. ~Just you leave them alone!~ Blurred with Rage, she charges into the four creatures beside her packmate, headlong, as both let loose with a thundering volley of clawed blows that would shatter the bones of any normal creatures.

First-Strike calls next, ~Griffin! Master of the wild, patron of the Red Talons, untamable child of the Mother, aspect of War! Bloody Griffin, accept my sacrifice.~

This time, Pirate-Trader is, well, brief. ~Griffon, father of the Talons, accept this sacrifice.~ Not offensively so, her tone respectful, but she clearly doesn't have much to say to this partiular spirit.

Where Grapples with Fire was reserved with the previous totems, she is exuberant in her sacrifice to Griffin. ~Father of the Wyld, Patron of the last, accept my sacrifice!~

Pathfinder does not express any change of expression throughout. ~Griffin, accept my sacrifice.~

Shields-the-Young carves a jagged sigil into her forearm. ~Thunder, sky-father, accept what we offer!~ she calls out, bringing new energy and blood to the steps. Another slash, to follow First-Strike. ~Griffin, Wyld warrior, untamed, accept this sacrifice!~

Shifting Briar moves with her fellow Fury, cutting into arms and wrists as she, too, calls to the totems. ~Griffin, wild one, hear us, accept my sacrifice,~ she growls.

Every blow dealt is returned in kind. Wildfire's grin dleams toothily, this a worthy challenge! He continues with his rage-driven attacks.

Friend-to-the-Fallen lets out a cry of alarm when her packmate is hit, and launches herself at the giant Dancer. She moves to slash at his back, and tries to close her fangs on the back of a leg.

Slash leaps from the fallen Dancer he's just helped kill toward the big one, moving to interpose himself between the giant and Wildfire. Temporary pack it may be, but Wildfire is his alpha, and after he's taken a wound that bad, the scarred Strider's goal is making sure the Get doesn't have to take another.

Battlecry finishes off the Dancer-what-almost-stabbed-him with an unkind word or three, and then swiftly turns on his heel to plan his next move... which involves dashing at and flanking the nearest Dancer with blinding speed, his sword an arc of silver as it seeks their flesh.

Bridge Builder turns his attention to the last of the former blade wielders and he launches from his position in an attempt to hamstring the foe. If Kavi's hamstring lands, Shockwave turns a vicious strike upon the downed Dancer, using one hand to pull it over and the other to try to drive the silver klaive into the creature's chest. Rather then immediately tangle herself with the next target, Evac utilizes her speed to loop around it. When Shockwave and the others begin to close on it position, she runs in from the back, lunging in and aiming to sink her claws into the back of the Dancer's neck. Seeks-Raging-Water plants her foot in the downed Dancer as she pulls her knives free. With Bridge-Builder going low at the last of the armed enemies, she goes high, aiming to lock blades with him so that the Glass Walker doesn't become a target as he attacks.

Oath-Ring continues in the same vein as he has before, following as Mouse calls the spirit-benefactors of the Garou Nation: with kennings and bloodied glyphs to honour the Totems, and sturdy, stamping steps in the circling, weaving dance. His focus remains on task, despite the sounds of battle that echo through the Caern valley.

First-Strike howls, ~Owl! Hunter of the night, patron of the Silent Striders, swift child of the Mother, aspect of Wisdom!~ Her pace seems to have quickened, as if the drum beat really was her own heart. ~All-Seeing Owl, accept my sacrifice.~

Friend-to-the-Fallen launches herself at the uninjured Dancer. She moves to slash at his back, and tries to close her fangs on the back of a leg. (Repose)

Scar's howls to Griffin and Owl are coldly respectful. His arms drip red from the elbows down, and he now adds claw-marks to his chest.

First-Strike follows this up with, ~Pegasus! Guardian of sacred places, patron of the Black Furies, winged child of the Mother, aspect of Respect! Mighty Pegasus, accept my sacrifice.~ Both arms are bleeding profusely now, and she moves to her shoulders.

~Pegasus, mother of fury and guardian of women, accept this sacrifice,~ Pirate-Trader follows along, almost slipping just one step but not breaking out of the winding line, correcting before the accident occurs.

By now, Tradewinds has cut herself up badly enough that she has worked free some of her plumage. Bright green feathers join the blood on the ground, as the dance continues. Her howl for Owl rings loudest of all, as she give particular honor to her Tribal Totem.

Peacemaker has less varying reactions than some of the others with the ritual, seeming to accept and call out to each Totem with equal respect. There is, if anything, a touch more fondness for some than others. ~Pegasus, accept my sacrifice!~

Dives-Deep's coat around her arms and hands is stained with blood now, as is the walking stick she leans on, but she has to make a new incision with the shard of mirror-glass held in her free hand for each sacrifice. Grandfather Thunder, Griffon, and Owl get theirs in turn. As the call goes out to Pegasus, she plucks a white feather from her bracelet, tossing it into the air and letting and letting it be caught up on the wind.

First-Strike tips her nose skyward, as if to maintain her volume, ~Rat! Mother of the low and forsaken, patron of the Bone Gnawers, hardy child of the Mother, aspect of War! Rat the Survivor, accept my sacrifice.~

Like a Sequoia tree falling, the giant gives one last, wrenching and snarling roar before he falls to the ground. His claws remain grappled at Wildfire's throat, but the combination of Get, Fang, and Walker finally brings the massive Dancer down. The last remaining dancer has no weapon, and with what seems like the entire ire of the whole Gaian sept coming at him, his eyes go wide as saucers. He tries to give a brave howl as he closes, but it's cut of by Slash, Shockwave, Helena, Kavi, and countless others as they swarm over the hapless Dancer. Snakepatcher lands a blow on the first pig, and sends it tumbling into the underbrush. Topsy's cry distracts the others, and they all head for her, squealing and screaming. Her blows land on each in turn, leveling some shattering others. at least one gets tusk into the Gaian's leg.

For Rat, Pirate-Trader is ebulent and free with her praise. ~Mother of the low war, patron of those who fight the war within the city, keeper of the shiny thing. Accept my sacrifice.~ With the blood comes something from a pouch, a scattering of glitter. Just glitter, but a token.

~Mother of the Swarm, fighter to the last, accept my sacrifice,~ howls Scar in honor of Rat. And instead of clawing himself, this time, he bites, and bites deep.

Song-of-Vengeance finds it easier to follow, the words soothing the pain in her arms and, now, in her shoulders, as she runs out of uncut flesh on her upper limbs to slash.

Scars-of-Dirt pants, almost madly. The scarred Fang focuses his attention to the pigs and, knowing Topsy, goes claws first onto the one who impaled her leg.

Shields-the-Young whirls in turn, calling to Owl, and then, with a sharper, fiercer cry, to the totem of the Furies and the city-totem of the Gnawers. ~Owl, wisdom and mystery, accept my sacrifice! Pegasus, guardian and guide, accept my sacrifice! Rat, sharp teeth and fierce cleverness, accept my sacrifice!~ More blood flows, the fur of her arms and legs wet with it now. She dances on, determination and fierce devotion in her offering.

Shifting-Briar echoes her, voice following as she offers blood to each of the three.

Bad Moon Rising, still on all fours, charges the nearest skull pig to bowl it off its Wyrm-tainted trotters.

The magpie circles around above the skullpigs, before winging back toward the trees, once more out of sight of those on the ground.

With each of the totems, the Wendigo repeats her sacrifice, and her drum sings out a new rhythm matched to the spirit's energy. ~Mother Rat, who teaches us cooperation and the strength of the pack, accept my sacrifice.~

Juggernaut rides the hulking Dancer down to the dirt, knees bending to absorb the shock as his teeth come free of its hide in a bloody snarl. Topsy's bellow has his head whipping around an instant before the Iron Ahroun is again barrelling across the field at full tilt, aiming to literally bowl over at least one of the skullpigs with his charge.

First-Strike calls, ~Stag! Master of the Wild hunt, patron of the Fianna, Fae-loving child of the Mother, aspect of Respect! Honorable Stag, accept my sacrifice.~

Shockwave yanks his blade free of the poor hapless Dancer, and the Fianna elder bares his fangs and goes for the pigs, first angling toward any that are closest to the ritualists.

Shields-the-Young cries out, ~Stag, fierce in mating, hunt master! Accept this offering!~

As the final Dancer goes down under the swarm of Garou, Evac turns her attention to their corpses, briefly checking over the nearby discarded blades to discern if they're going to be of further use, or if they're just crude scrap. Whether or not she finds something useable, she starts toward the incursion of skull pigs.

White Bison's steps have not yet started to slow, and she calls out her fierce offering to the Fianna's totem.

Shifting-Briar moves with the steps of the dance, a talon cutting deep across one leg and she calls out, ~Stag! Leader of the Wild Hunt! Accept my sacrifice!~

~Mama, who took her in when others would have seen her dead and called it mercy,~ comes the call from the Bone Gnawer Theurge as she offers her sacrifice to Rat, ~Dives-Deep can never repay her, but she offers this small gift.~ Another vial emptied in offering, this time of some liquid, and then she's silent for a time before moving on to offer her sacrifice to Stag.

First-Strike moves from her shoulders to the flesh above her knees. ~Uktena! Master of Secrets, patron of the Uktena, mysterious child of the Mother, aspect of Wisdom! Quiet Uktena, accept my sacrifice.~

~Uktena, accept my sacrifice,~ Pirate-Trader voices aloud, quieter for the Pure One totem, likewise when Wendigo follows.

There is warmth in the howl from the Wendigo when she makes her offering to Uktena. ~Friend to Older Brother, keeper of the Secrets, keeper of the ways, accept my sacrifice!~

Finding ready helpers already barrelling her way, Upside-Down ignores the creature attached to her leg and aims another skull-shattering blow at the next one within reach. She is bracing herself against the oncoming charge of battle-eager Garou lest in their enthusiasm they find they cannot stop. Snakepatcher, meanwhile, charges into the brush after the skull pig that he set tumbling, determined that it will not escape.

As the others turn their attention to the skull pigs, Bridge Builder turns his attention outward, tension building along his spine in anticipation of the next attack.

~Unicorn!~ First-Strike calls. Rather than shed blood, she presses an already bloody hand to the earth, and bows her head. ~Unicorn! Gentle counselor, patron of the Children of Gaia, healing child of the Mother, aspect of Wisdom! Gentle Unicorn, accept my sacrifice.~

Wildfire yields a nod to the fallen giant for having at least having given an honorable fight. He then turns to face the skullpigs but says where he is for now, instead just cocking his head to pop his neck a bit as he rebuilds some reserves, his fists clenching and unclenching.

Friend-to-the-Fallen pushes out of the group of Garou, and spies the Skull Pigs. She pulls away and makes a beeline for the closest one, again with fangs and claws out.

Battlecry runs with a shout to get between the skull pig melee and the ritualists, falling into a defensive position to slice at anything that gets through.

Slash pauses beside Wildfire until he is quickly directed to go and engage the skull pigs.

There's a certain fondness, too, to Unicorn when the Stargazer offers part of himself. ~Unicorn,~ he rumbles, ~accept my sacrifice.~

The defenders surge towards the pigs, avoiding disturbing the ritualists as best they can, hopefully. Upside-Down sends the latest pig scrambling back with a hefty blow. Snakepatcher wastes no time in finding his target, and the two begin to trade claws and tusk strikes. The Uktena's arm is pierced, but the pig's throat is left wide open in the scuffle. As the other garou descend, the four pigs--formidable though they are--are soon swarmed. The garou rain blows down upon them at will.

Song-of-Vengeance follows in the ritual dance, pressing bloody palms to churned up earth. ~Drink of my life, Unicorn.~ She says this with fondness, for the Children of Gaia have a link to the Furies.

~Unicorn!~ beseeches Peacemaker as she weaves through the circle with the other dancers. ~Wise healer, accept our sacrifice!~

~Uktena, mighty river of wisdom, keeper of mysteries,~ Thea calls out. ~Accept my sacrifice, let the blood flow for you. Unicorn, great peacekeeper and healer, accept this offering...~ She is quieter, too, for Unicorn.

Shifting Briar follows the dance eloquently, movement speaking more than her growling. ~Uktane, accept my sacrifice,~ she calls as she makes another deep cut. And a sweeping gesture to touch the earth as Mouse did, and she offers blood as well, letting it reach the ground. ~Unicorn, accept my sacrifice...~

First-Strike reaches the last, and as it turns out for her, the bloodiest. She digs her claws into her chest again--not deep, but enough to draw far more than a few drops of blood. ~Wendigo! Icy Master of the North, patron of the Wendigo, hungry child of the Mother, aspect of War! Howling Wendigo, accept my sacrifice.~

Scar howls out in respect and honor to the remaining Totems; his arms and chest are alike awash in blood now, his voice more hoarse than ever.

There is little or no difference to Oath-Ring's howls save only that to reflect each Totem's nature. The Godi avoids favouritism as best he can; and, it seems, there is more blood in his gaunt frame still to be spilled, no sign that he is faltering despite the rivulets that soak his fur and drip to the ground.

Shields-the-Young snarls fiercely as she swipes claws across her thigh, making a deeper wound, sever enough that she will be limping slightly. ~Wendigo, flesh-eater, always hungry! Accept my offering of blood!~

Shifting-Briar snarls as she, too, slashes across her chest and howls out her offering to Wendigo.

~Father of the North Wind, whose rage froze the Horned Serpent in his den, Guide of Younger Brother's People, accept our sacrifice and answer our call!~ Grapples with Fire's howl is, unsurprisingly, the loudest as her own totem is called.

Earth-Whisperer is very much a 'red' Talon with all the blood he's shed and given. Paladin flicks more blood upon the ground, ~Wendigo! Accept my offering!~

Scars-of-Dirt tears into his pig like a madwolf, almost using it as a way to vent for his fears. The rotten pig parts will fly.

Dives-Deep says, ~Unicorn. Healer. Peacemaker. She and her children have given Dives-Deep much wise counsel, and she offers her thanks along with her sacrifice. Her blood is only a symbol of what she truly offers, for if they succeed they will have a holy place that will help to heal all of their spirits.~ Another vial is emptied to honor Unicorn, this one a powder that she sends into the air with a puff of breath. For Wendigo, she returns to the more typical offering, save that she makes the gash across her chest, a symbolic offering of heart's blood deemed more appropriate given the totem's nature.

Bad Moon Rising savages his chosen target, turning the skull-pig into so much dismembered carrion; the oily red-eyed monster literally tears it into pieces, his low grunts and growls inaudible over the Wyrm-beast's squeals of rage and agony.

The weapons the Dancers used fail to impress, and Evac leaves them where they lay. Seeing that the skull-pigs aren't lasting very long under the onslaught of Garou, Evac reins herself in, turning her focus back to scanning the area for more threats.

First-Strike, her calling finished, bows her head. Her whole body follows, and once more her elbows are in the dirt, with her hands to either side of the Gnosis bowl, palms upward.

With the last totem's call, the earth gives another lurching shudder, enough to knock someone over if they were not very steady on their feet. Again, a pulse of air and energy discharge from the center of the ritual, this time even stronger. It pushes past ritual and defender alike, fanning out like a ripple on a pond to disappear among the dense forest that surrounds them. Once more, hackles rise, and the senses tingle from the feeling of untapped energy, all around. The last of skull pigs dies beneath the garou onslaught, and for a brief moment the forest is quiet save for the ritualists' chanting and the Wendigo's drumming.

Memory's wings fold and she drops out of the sky, aiming to land on Wildfire's head as the Get of Fenris catches his breath. ~Healing crew, coming through!~ She rumbles in the Mother's-Tongue, a strange sound coming from a raven. So long as Wildfire allows her to land, she calls on her healing Gift, then takes to the skies again.

~Accept our sacrifice,~ Tradewinds intones, ~Spirit of the cold and hungry winds.~ The Strider spins about in a circle as she dances, as she adds yet another bloody furrow to her arm.

As claws and teeth flash and slash, Upside-Down watches for the optimum time and target to put a would-be finishing-slash in on the tenderest visible portion of still-moving skullpig, focussing all her formiddable strength and Gift-sharpened claws in on her chosen spot. Snakepatcher lunges at his pig's throat, tearing it out with his teeth. Who needs arms?

Song-of-Vengeance sinks to the ground to her knees, hands outstretched, pressed into the now tacky dirt, the pulse washing over her and through her, an electic tingle causing the fur that's not caked with blood to prickle, her mane flaring.

Scars-of-Dirt stands there,panting, covered in blood and gore. Looking around for the next target like he is in a fugue.

Shockwave stops once the pigs are dead, and pants a little, taking a moment to breathe. The shuddering earth causes him to stagger a step, but he regains his balance, focuses, and reactivates the talen.

Upsdide-Down shakes herself clear of the mess and steps free, bleeding from her leg. ~Anybody hurt badly?~ she asks, looking around the assembled defenders. Snakepatcher returns from the underbrush.

Grapples with Fire's jaw sets, a grimace pulling at her lips as she keeps a steady beat against the pulse of power and pain. Again, her ears turn backward, flattening against her head, as she shifts the rhythm for the next phase.

Seeks-Raging-Water uses the lull in battle to wipe some of the blood from her two knives on the hide of a fallen skull pig, her eyes going wide at the pulse of power from the ritual.

The lurching earth does not seem to affect the Stargazer; he rides it out with his balance solid. The pain is a real thing, but so far he is pushing it down.

Juggernaut is actually thrown to the ground briefly by that surge in the earth, though he rights himself quickly enough. He rumbles to Upside-Down, ~Nothing touched me. Wildfire got pretty torn up, I think.~

Scar keeps his feet despite the quake, shifting his weight and staying upright with ease. His good eye is bright, his muzzle slightly parted as he watches First-Strike.

Shields-the-Young falls when the ground lurches beneath her, dropping to one knee and then letting herself bow forward to follow Mouse.

Shifting-Briar slows, panting as she turns to watch the leader of the rite. She is still standing, despite the welter of blood in her fur.

There is a moment of crouching from Pirate-Trader, to brace as the ground rumbles, but she is quick to keep moving in the dance, not missing a beat or step, not tripping up any of the others.

Oath-Ring's legs splay to keep him steady, the dance a little lopsided until the earth-tremour stops. The Get's teeth show in a lupine grin, eyes half-closed, as though drinking in the pain and welcoming it.

Bad Moon Rising grips 'his' dead skull-pig, sinking his claws in as the earth shakes. After, he rises slowly to his feet and looms over it.

The second, more disruptive wave of energy forces Evac forward a step with its intensity - she's not that heavy, when it comes right down to it, but her balance remains unshakeable. Casting a glance skyward as Memory swoops in, the Garou gives a firm grin. Grinning in Crinos, it turns out, remains a hideous thing.

Wildfire keeps his vigil now, heedless of his own wounds even as the very Earth shakes under him, as the last of the skullpigs falls, his claws still clenching and unclenching. He yields only the briefest of nods to Memory when she tends to his wounds.

With the skull-pigs rapidly falling to the Garou assault, Slash turns back toward the woodline, doing his best to vanish into the shadows as he waits for any more opponents, even as he aims a silent question over toward Friend-to-the-Fallen.

Battlecry remains where he is, standing as a sentinel before the ritualists.

Friend-to-the-Fallen backs off the fallen pigs, and moves to get a clear view of the area around, and with the talen, above them as well.

Dives-Deep leans heavily on her walking stick at the tremor, it clearly being the only reason she's able to keep her feet.

Once more the forest stirs. A stag with a magnificent eighteen point rack can be seen up the end of the valley. In another part of the woods, a shaggy, menacing wolf emerges. Rats slink out of the undergrowth and underfoot. A cockroach vlimbs the trunk of the great tree. Unicorn, Griffin and Pegasus show their faces as well. A biting wind tugs at the garous' fur to let them know Wendigo has arrived. All the totems, one by one manifest in some way or another. although there's no sign of an enemy anywhere, yet, the tribal totems seem on extreme alert.

Bridge Builder keeps steady on four legs, but as the wave passes, he moves to rejoin Shockwave and Evac.

First-Strike allows herself only a moment of rest after that pulse, and then she's back up, her hackles raised and ears slightly flattened. Nevertheless, she calls again. ~Patron spirits of the once-Hidden Walk, pack fathers and mothers, you who have lent your aid to ours, we ask your aid again! Grandmother Tree, patient and wise, steady and solid as the oak! Peregrine, acrobat, adaptive, at home in the skies, deadly from above! Sphinx, riddle-mistress, lover of the enigma, ferocious when tested, creator of the paths by which our Caern was freed! Merlin, tiny hunter, clever warrior, swift flyer! Weasel, fearless fighter, relentless onslaught, untouchable! A child of earth calls to you, a child of earth calls you forth! Grandmother Tree, Peregrine, Sphinx, Merlin and Weasel, accept my sacrifice!~ Again, she brings forth blood, and with it a howl of defiance and welcome.

Scars-of-Dirt looks up, seeing his tribal totem. The Fang lowers his ears and bares his throat to the great Falcon.

Nieve is silent for most of this, repeating only the names - not a dinosaur, she is not so conversant with the history of the Sept. The names she speaks however, shedding blood for those who bind the packs of the sept both present and past.

Seeing Pegasus in the flesh, as it were, brings a surge of gratefulness and relief to Song-of-Vengeance, the fury curling her head low, turning her head to bare her throat and belly to the great black Pegasus. To all of the totems, her claws drawing fresh blood from her belly.

Shields-the-Young rises slowly, first watching Them, and then turning her attention to First-Strike. ~Grandmother Tree, Sphinx, Peregrine, Merlin, Weasel!~ She slashes claws across one shoulder, and holds them to the sky. ~Accept our offering!~

Peacemaker steadies herself after that last pulse, continuing through the dance motions as First-Strike calls out to the pack totems. She howls as the ritemaster howls, sacrificing as needed, and focusing on keeping with the beat of the drum, dancing through the circle.

Shifting Briar growls the names of the totems, even as she watches the great tribal spirits. Her claws dig into one forearm as she snarls.

Her own pack not among those of the Hidden Walk, White Bison offers a very slightly more subdued howl for the pack totems called.

For each totem named by First Strike, Grapples With Fire again lifts her muzzle, and her the shifting beat of her drum runs through them all before it returns to a simpler rhythm. ~Accept our sacrifice!~

Scar adds his voice to the ritual's din, more of his blood to the rite.

Pathfinder, too, pours both heart and soul into the rite, blood and voice.

Earth-Whisperer and Paladin add their voices, their blood.

Seeks-Raging-Water moves toward the place where the Stormcrow has perched, raising her blades in salute to the materialized servant of Grandfather Thunder as she takes her cue from Garou and spirits alike and braces herself for the next attack.

Oath-Ring feet echo the rhythm of the drum, picking out the beat for each and every spirit he has learned of as being part of the Caern's history. Thse named, those unnamed, those spoken of, those known only by the standing stone in the Burial Mounds. Name follows name in wolf-howl discordance, and the blood flows from his torso as well as his arms (for the latter are more raw meat than fur). ~Accept our offering!~

Though the sight of the totems rises Evac's spirits, she doesn't let her guard down. She sticks close to Shockwave and Bridge Builder both, keeping alert.

Song-of-Vengeance spins to her feet slowly, the dance continuing. ~Accept our offering, spirits. Lend us your aid.~

This time when the ground shakes, it lasts more than a second or two. It's accompanied by rumble as the air once more pulses with an outflow of energy when Mouse continues to infuse the caern with the outpouring of gnosis. The strength of it this time nearly takes the breath away. Those with eyes in the sky can feel more than see the approach of the next wave of the enemy. Banes, fomori, wyrmthings of all sizes and shape seem to be moving in from all directions. At first it's small, Memory, Whisper, the Magpie, and those with talens can easily point people to where they need to be. Eventually, though, there is no one direction--no one threat. Things move toward the center of the caern from every direction and angle.

Swooping down from on high, Whisper offers breathless directions to the threats she has seen, giving as best she can the number and type, then landing next to Owen's pack and taking Crinos to join the fight, reasonably fresh.

Friend-to-the-Fallen's lips pull back in a loud snarl, and she jumps towards the closest minions of the Wyrm, slashing and biting like she's a Garou possessed.

Scars-of-Dirt gets taken off his paws. Dirt whimpers, but it turns into a low growl as he sees the damn banes attacking. The philodox jumps on his paws, lunging at few of them. Tearing madly.

First-Strike wheezes this time, and those who are watching her when the channeling comes can see the strain in her muscles, even though she makes no louder noise. The Walker metis splays both hands on the ground now, either side of the Gnosis bowl, and looks deep. ~Naturae! You who change shapes with the wind, You who pass between the worlds as I walk through air, You who for whom day is night, and night is day, I offer you welcome, I honor you. Noble Ones, you who reside in the hills and sidhe mounds of the land, in the sky, in the trees, in the insects and the animals, in the plants, in the stones, accept my sacrifice. Oh Spirits of the natural world, I call you forth!~ She brings bloodied palms over the bowl, and this time, a wisp of...something...seems to rise to meet her hands, even as blood continues to seep into the ground beneath her, staining it all crimson.

Bad Moon Rising loses his footing and drops to a knee when the ground shakes, and there he stays until it stops. He rises as the enemy shows itself again, a great mob of them, and the monster bares his fangs in the most disturbing smiles as he moves to meet the swarm. He thrusts a blood-drenched, clawed hand out, and one hairy fomor literally bursts into flames, and while it screams and thrashes, the Metis Fury attacks another, going for its throat.

Juggernaut rears up with a challenge-snarl as the oncoming swarm makes itself known, and he joins the battle much like he did for the previous two engagements. Namely, at high speed and using some foul Wyrm creature as his brake. His focus is less on tearing them to pieces, due to the sheer number of targets, and more on leaving broken and staggered foes in his wake for others to finish off! Crushed bones, slashed faces, rattled skulls, all are fair game.

Battlecry keeps his position between the bulk of the defenders and the ritual proper, readying himself as a fomor breaks through the lines. He slices at its legs to trip it up, and moves to decapitate it swiftly.

Shields-the-Young presses both palms to the ground, and this time her exhortation has no words, only sound and posture, her blood soaking the earth.

Shifting-Briar moves and chants, quieter. ~Spirits of nature, accept our offerings...~

Memory rises higher in the sky, black feathers making her disappear in the darkness. Still, the Corax is still around, judging by the small package that drops from the sky and hits the face of a deformed Fomor with barbed tentacles for arms. The tainted human screams, mutated arms flailing around aimlessly as whatever is in the package blinds her. A second package drops from the sky and makes contact with another target, having much the same affect. Blinded and howling in pain, the injured Fomori become easy prey for the Defenders.

~Accept our sacrifice,~ Tradewinds says, voice starting to grow hoarse and her steps slow a little.

Shockwave rides through the ground rumbling, at one point forced to use the blade to keep himself upright. He finally gives up trying to observe everything and just launches himself at the foes. A fomor with plated skin falls, and he turns into a bane almost by accident, and he takes a few steps back to act as a small wall between the wyrmthings and the ritualists.

Pathfinder keeps his footing, though he's weakening a little, the first signs of flagging strength showing through the force of sheer willpower.

Wildfire snarls as the Host shows itself. He moves to fill in wherever isn't covered to block any incoming wyrm-thing, striking out as he can.

With overhead guidance provided by Friend-to-the-Fallen, Slash targets quite a number of the lead foes, making sure they walk into ambushes. Once it becomes clear that there are too many for the tactic to continue to be effective, however, he makes haste -- moving with the speed of thought -- to rejoin his packmates and fight by their side.

Once again, Evac relies on her speed - rather than picking a spot and defending it to the death, she leaves that to the bigger and bulkier Garou. She's kept occupied darting after stragglers that don't seem interested in the Garou so much as the ritual, intercepting the minions of the wyrm sometimes mere seconds before their trajectory might have carried them into the ritual circle itself. Honor and glory is eschewed in favor of practicality. If it's small and fast, she's killing it.

As the enemy approaches, Bridge Building moves forward. His gaze lands on one of the fomori and his lips pull back, jaw opening slightly in pleased anticipation. In that moment of concentration and anticipation, his claws dig into the earth, and he lunges forward to take hold of the creature in his gaping jaws.

Upside-Down and Snakepatcher fight side by side, the Uktena determined to keep anything, even the smallest beetle, from going past them. He drives his claws through the skull of one horror, but another appears, and another. While Snakepatcher trades blow after blow into the wave of oncoming enemies, Topsy keeps an eye to the bigger picture. She guides the path of destruction that the two big Ahroun cut, filling in where the defense is weakest. She too lends her claws to the combat, bowling over a crab-like creature so Snakepatcher can disembowel it, shoulder-barging the legs out from a deformed giraffe-like bane and clawing its exposed throat with surprisingly compassionate precision. She seem to have some specific ultimate goal in mind, however- though not, yet, to have found it.

To the caern, Upside-Down: formori, not bane, sorry

Seeks-Raging-Water looks up to Stormcrow as the swarm approaches. ~Let them see the fury of the storm!~ she says quietly. Against the horde of opponents, she unleashes the rage she'd been holding in check, and explodes into a whirlwind of slashing blades, targeting whatever foes come closest.

The magpie dips and darts below the treeline. If anyone had time to observe it, they might notice that occasionally things...happen. Not all fomori screaming in the forest reach the Garou defenders. One pack of enemies, however, comes running out of the trees as though demons were chasing them, shrieking with mad fear and inadvertently running straight into the claws of the Uktena and Child of Gaia pair. They seem senseless, fighting only to get away.

Eventually something will make it through the defenders and will try to disrupt the rite. It's statistically certain. Song-of-Vengeance's job is to prevent that disruption from happening...

Scars-of-Dirt claws the banes. Lunges at fomori. Just clawing and killing.

Oath-Ring sinks into Lupus, his coat stiff with blood and bristled with the nearness of battle. His offering is a now-wordless howl, blood running freely to soak the dirt he touches.

As Bridge-Builder snags a fomori for himself, Whisper lunges forward to grab the one that was right behind it, grappling it about the waist and beginning to rip shreads into it. The fomor - not terribly large in any case - dies in a haze of red pain.

As Mouse calls to the Naturae, the latest shudder from the ground beneath them is accompanied by a loud crack. The pulse brings with it a fiery sheen to the air above their heads--almost like a local Aurora Borealis. For a brief moment, realm and umbra shimmer until both sides are visible. The ephemerae that makes up the umbra seems to rise like a fog, the spirits of plant, animal and element alike rising with it. Interspersed among it all are wakshaani, banelings, wyldlings, lunes. The pack totems--Skokiaan, Ferahgo, Bigwing, Oracle, Kyril, and Eila--dart here and there in the umbra, doing what they can as the melee threatens to overwhelm the senses. A moment later, the gauntlet returns, and the other half of the battle is lost to those in the realm, for now. The tribal totems join in the fray, attacking enemies that harass the garou on all sides.

Facing down an entire pack of enemies? Well, they are panicking enemies that are rushing towards Upside-Down and Snakepatcher- snakelike 'things' with too many heads, something like an oversized lizard that swallowed a TV aerial, and other, less recognisable formori. This, apparently, is just what the Athro ordered. With the sort of silent coordination that implies mystical pack ccordination, the two Garou stop and Upside-Down pulls out something that looks very much like a cracked pair of skiing goggles. Lining herself to avoid any of the friendly allies, she breaks it in her hands... and the Caern is filled with a mighty roaring as, from the air before her, the full power and destruction of the avalanche pours forth, rushing towards the disporanised and panicked pack of foes, filling the land before the packmates.

Moros is in his element. No, more than that, the big greasy metis is obviously enjoying himself as he sinks himself into a steady feast of ultraviolence. Limbs are broken, twisted, ripped clear out of their sockets. Eyes are torn out, tongues ripped, bones broken. His Rage is high, but he's not frenzied; his actions are too deliberate and methodical for that.

First-Strike rides out the fourth channeling in silence, her teeth gritted, her eyes briefly closed. That glimpse of the other side, however, the sight of the pack totems fighting, seems to revitalize her. She shoves back up to her knees with more force than one might expect, and immediately turns her nose to the sky. ~Gods and Goddesses of the Aetherial Realm, you whose course across the skies has been watched for centuries, you who watch us all in turn, turn your gaze upon us now. Planetary Incarna, hear us! Accept our sacrifice!~ She hardly gives herself time to gouge her arms again before she begins the recitation. ~Nerigal the Ice Warrior, Incarna of Mars, the Get of Fenris stand before you!~

Scars-of-Dirt just kills what he can reach, in a desperate ditch to survive.

Peacemaker has to grit her teeth against the pain of that last channeling, too, but she forces herself to keep going through the dance, despite the pain and noise of the battle.

~Eshtarra the Songteller,~ Mouse cries. ~Incarna of Earth and daughter of Gaia, the Fianna stand before you!~ A breath, and only one. ~Mitanu the Clever Rogue, Incarna of Mercury, the Bone Gnawers stand before you!~ She begins painting each glyph in turn in the space around her, making a small circle where she kneels. ~Sohkta the Lambent Lady, Incarna of the Moon, Aspect of Luna, the Stargazers stand before you!~

With the first fomori down, Bridge Builder turns to another. He dodges low, but the creature still manages a deep slice to his shoulder before the galliard's teeth rip through its leg.

The fourth channeling is endured, and, as he canot see the other side, Pathfinder just resumes his part in the ritual, ever stoic, stone unmoving. This time, his voice is stronger. ~Accept our sacrifice!~

Seeks-Raging-Water is stunned as the Gauntlet fades almost to nothing for a moment, never having seen anything like that before. While the fomori seek to take advantage, the Stormcrow swoops down and unleashes a clap of thunder that sends a shockwave across the ground, knocking most of them from their feet and deafening others, buying the Shadow Lord Ahroun the time to recover and rejoin the fray. Her own blood mingles with the blood of her foes on her coat and on the ground around her, but she's still on her feet and fighting, which is more than can be said for many of her foes.

~Hakahe!~ both Wendigo and Uktena call out in unison, as each join with Mouse in making their offerings to the Planetary Incarna. Jacinta's drumming shifts from the distinct rhythms of the spirits to one that echoes the power of the Aetherial Realm itself.

Battlecry parries and slices as enemies come to him, blows tinking off his physical armor, as well as the glowing barrier of lunar light from his sword. Blood drips from the tip of the blade.

Scar howls to spirits invoked and present, his voice thunderous.

Perhaps it was the sight of Fenris fighting, or perhaps the Ritemistress calling upon his own tribe just now, causes Wildfire to throw himself even more wantonly into the fight, this time laughing as he dives from foe to foe, the sound broken up once with, ~What the hell am I fighting? Doesn not matter!~

Shockwave doesn't stop, even as the Gauntlet thins. If anything, it seems to push him further. The sword is buried up to the hilt in a thick, fat fomor, and when he pulls it free, the blade glistens with blood and gore and seems to almost be humming with the thrill of battle for the war-spirit held wihin.

Friend-to-the-Fallen finds herself moving further and further away from her packmates; she twists and chomps at anything that comes her way. There's a slight panic in her movements, and the Cliath lets out a short growl before knocking over another Wyrmy thing and taking a bite out of it.

~Hakahe, the Ebon Whisperer!~ First-Strike calls out in direct unison with the Pure Ones. ~Incarna of the Hidden. The Uktena stand before you!~ She swipes her claws in broad strokes for the next glyph. ~Katanka-Sonnak, the Wind Rider! Incarna of the sun, aspect of Helios! The Wendigo stand before you!~ And on. ~Tambiyah, the Veiled Mother, Incarna of Venus! The Black Furies stand before you! Meros, the Wandering Mystic, Incarna of Pluto, the Silent Striders remain!~

Oath-Ring's howl slides up an octive and more into something strange and ethereal, the names of even these Incarna coming with familiarity from his tongue. Despite the shared pain and the tiredness that weighs the limbs and minds of all the ritualists, he gives a short glance of appreciation for the rhythms thudding unfalteringly from the Warder's hands and drum. His paws do not falter as returns to Crinos, never missing the beat.

Shields-the-Young and Shifting-Briar call out to the Veiled Mother, as they dance.

The sight of Kyril swooping overhead and taking down one of her intended targets is enough to send a burst of confidence into Evac. ~Kyril, you awesome bird - you are /most/ welcome!~

As the fifth outpouring of gnosis commences, the earth's shudder grows more violent. Those that don't actively seek to steady themselves will find themselves thrown to the ground. The aurora overhead deepens to a purplish hue, and energy, in the form of small wisps of light, begin to float up out of the moss and ground at the garous' feet. Once again the gauntlet fades, revealing the Velvet Shadow to those in the realm. This time it does not retreat. For the moment, the worlds are one. Banes battle wyldlings. Fomori tangle with a sudden onslaught of Weaver's spidery children from the west. There is chaos, everywhere, and no lack of an enemy for everyone on every side. The pack totem spirits dodge between the larger brothers and sisters that represent each tribe. A wasp, no doubt left from the nest a month earlier, finds herself ensnared by sticky mass of sludge, only to have the sludge suddenly erupt in fire from an unknown source.

Slash sticks close to his packmates as he fights, watching their backs and trusting them to watch his. While it's clear that he's surprised by the the thinning of the Gauntlet, he doesn't pay it too much mind, leaping in front of a large fomor with claws that burst into flames, since that's something he's better protected against than the others. The two exchange strikes with their claws, the worst of the strikes against the Strider turned aside by the magic that protects him, before Slash finally calls on Wyvern's boon and stings the thing to death.

Shields-the-Young ends up flat, this time, arms thrown out to offer blood to the earth.

Scars-of-Dirt flies, smacking against the ground hard. This takes the Fang out of the fugue he has been in, and he howls out a challenge at the Tainted Spiders, almost madly lunging at them.

~Zarok, the Crowned Ruler!~ First-Strike howls skyward. ~Incarna of Jupiter, the Silver Fangs stand before you! Lu-Bat, the Peaceful Counselor, Incarna of Saturn, the Children of Gaia are listening! Ruatma, the Shadowed One, Incarna of Uranus, the Shadow Lords hear your wisdom.~ Her teeth show. ~Shantar, the Loom Maker, Incarna of Neptune, the Glass Walkers are here!~ She lifts both bloodied hands upward, to the sky, rather than the tree. ~Rorg, the Many-Taloned, Incarna of the lost world, now of the many asteroids, the Red Talons know you and call you by name! Planetary Incarna, accept our sacrifice!~

Friend-to-the-Fallen is thrown off her balance as the earth moves again. She yelps when a bane attack her back leg, and twists her body to dodge, then slash at it.

Wrong Way appears as the gauntlet thins, already dancing her own path in time with the ritualists, arms washed with her blood.

Shockwave, who was unprepared and in the midst of a swing, is knocked off balance. He picks himself up swiftly, and without missing a beat continues the onslaught. The Fianna elder and Alpha shows no sign of slowing or flagging yet.

~Accept our sacrifice!~ Thea calls out, slowly picking herself up from the ground.

Scar staggers this time, almost but not quite losing his feet.

Moros and his current foe -- a skinny Black Spiral Dancer with a glowing green 'X' across his torso and black fur almost as greasy as the Fury's -- go tumbling to the ground with the Dancer on top. The skinny Dancer cackles, tongue lolling, and starts humping the briefly stunned Ahroun. This ends quickly, though, with the Fury's giant hand around the Dancer's neck. Squeeeeeze.

Peacemaker steadies herself again, trying hard not to fall and risk the circle. There's a growl of pain, however, as that channeling takes from /her/, rather than gnosis, but she keeps going along the circle, and then, when signaled, moves back toward the Tree at the center to place her hand upon it.

Pathfinder grits his teeth at the fifth wave, keeping his feet. The breath that's hissed out from between his teeth is labored, as the last bit of gnosis he has is pulled forcibly from him. Breathe. Willpower is spent, and the ahroun steadies and makes his way to the tree.

Oath-Ring weathers earthquake, thought he drops to all fours. He weathers the surrounding chaos of battle, bloodletting and sacrifice without wavering. It's the glimpse he catches of Ferahgo and, above the weasel, the darting shape of a raven, that almost break his concentration. There's a fractional hesitation in his step, an almost-inaudible dip in the keening of his howl. Through force of will alone he sets aside any thought of his spirit friends to dedicate all to the Rite. ~Accept our sacrifice!~

Dives-Deep has to stop her dance each time the earth shakes, this last too much for her even with the aid of her walking stick, though she manages to catch herself by dropping to all fours, instead, if only just, so she's able to continue moving rather than disrupt the circle.

Another of the fomori falls as the pulse washes over them, and Bridge Builder steadies himself against it. He turns his gaze, then, to the Black Spiral Dancers. Spotting Moros, he lurches across the space between, lunging at taller crinos behind the Fury. His leap takes them both to the ground in a tangle of fangs and fur and blood.

Evac is slung forward by this most recent lurching of the earth - she manages to get her feet back under her before falling flat on her face, but the recovery isn't particularly pretty. As the realm and the Umbra begin to blur around them, Evac skids to a stop. She goes pie-eyed for a moment, but not enough to throw her off her game for long. She's back and darting around the battlefield in no time, dispatching where she can.

The shudder, this time, knocks Song-of-Vengeance off her feet, the Fury catching herself on her knees, one hand grinding into the dirt. Once she's got her bearings, she's back on her feet, waiting and ready.

Earth-Whisperer keeps his feet and looks stern and menacing.

Scars-of-Dirt digs into a metallic spider, who quite honestly was just going on its way to the nearest office. Angered by the biting dog, the spider lifts its biefcase at hits the Fang on the nose a few times. Dirt gives out a mad bellow and tears the spider from limb to limb.

The magpie doesn't do much more than fly in frantic circles, in and out of the chaos in the air--at least, on first glance. But a croaking cry from the black and white bird inexplicably sends several banes fleeing in abject terror.

The chaos continues. Garou battle off the onslaught, but the enemy is numerous, and they grow closer and closer to the ritualists, despite the valiant efforts of the defenders. Out of nowhere, a thing that can only be described as half bat and half pterodactyl comes swooping out the sky, aimed for the ritualists. Its unnerving screech is cut off just before it plows into the bowl at Mouse's feet. The white tiger, who till now has prowled and kept watch, intercepts the interloper with a single leap through the air. Both crash to the ground among the tangle of roots of the great tree. Ritualists dance around them, giving neither much of a second look--so absorbed are they in their task. The tiger and pterodactyl scrap and fight, the white beast roaring as his teeth sink into grey flesh. The thing's claws rake the tiger's side, and in an instant the tiger is gone, and a flutter of paper shreds float around the ritualists.

Seeks-Raging-Water is knocked from her feet, but is agile enough to turn it into an over the shoulder roll that brings her back to her feet afterward. This doesn't stop a four-armed fomor that was knocked down from grabbing her legs while a second -- a crawler, this time, so unbothered by the tremor -- leaps on her from the other side. She goes down beneath it, though an explosion of rage brings her back to her feet amid a flash of blades, further bloodied but not yet fallen.

Without hesitating, Shockwave is going after the bat/pterodactyl to finish the job that the tiger started. His first aim is to get it /completely/ clear of the ritualists, and then to try to disembowel it.

First-Strike does not even seem to notice this near miss, or the sacrifice of the paper tiger. She's bowed again, arms on the ground, palms up, with her nose just above the bowl. There's a rhythmic chant coming from her lips, too quiet to be made out even without the chaos all around the ritual.

If Jacinta is aware of the arrival of the flying creature, there is no sign. She keeps her focus without wavering, and her drumming continues without missing a beat.

From the sky, two more packages descend towards two more enemies. A Fomor that was once a dog, which howls in pain and spins around in circles. The second target is a Dancer, who skids to a halt and claws at its face.

Tradewinds continues with her dance, eyes starting to glaze over after hours of bloodletting.

Bad Moon Rising gets slowly back to his feet, still strangling the skinny X-marked Dancer. It's a slower, less efficient way to kill than simply tearing a throat out, and the Fury gets plenty of new claw-wounds on his arms for his troubles. But he doesn't seem to care much. Only when the Dancer goes limp and turns into a skinny, greasy human -- quite dead -- does the big Metis look up and note Kavi tearing into another Dancer nearby. Growling, he drops the carcass and goes to assist the Walker.

Upside-Down draws herself up to her full height, and bellows at the pterodactyl-thing. ~You! Yes, /you/! Just /what/ do you think you're doing? How /dare/ you! /How/ dare you! Don't you know who we are?~ Beside her, Snakepatcher is standing glaring at it, and he, too, is drawing on a Gift of his own.

Friend-to-the-Fallen dispatches one bane, only to find three more to replace it. She moves to fight them off, and cut a path to the ritualists, but it's not easy. Almost overwhelmed, the Cliath is forced to rethink her strategy and focus on staying alive.

Peacemaker moves away from the tree and back to the dance, a ribbon of energy flowing between herself and the tree, and she rejoins her place in the circle.

Scars-of-Dirt finishes the spider, seeing a fomor that looks like a strange scream painting. The Fang lunges at the thing, but the noodle creature dodges, whipping the philodox with its arms hard. At least until Dirt bites into its whip like hand and -pulls-.

Wildfire turns as the large thing descends, now already set upon but others. He joins them to lend his strength against a worthy foe.

Shields-the-Young seems to get her second wind, returning to the dance with new energy mustered from some hidden reserve.

As each ritualist touches the tree and then moves back to the dancing circle, a thin, white-blue ribbon of energy seems to go with them, smoke-like, there and not. The dance now becomes a weaving, the energies intertwining with each other more and more as the dances continue to circle, some one way, the rest the other.

Shifting-Briar dances on with a Theurge's stamina, her concentration steady.

Darting this way and that on the battlefield, her jaws and claws smeared with the blood of the lesser wyrm creatures, Evac just so happens to pass by Friend-to-the-Fallen next. Seeing her in retreat, the Fostern falls upon the backs of the banes approaching her, her claws operating so swiftly that they're difficult to follow. One of the banes is minced before the other two notice the ragabash's presence, and she growls to the Cliath, ~Take one!~ Shortly before engaging the now-alerted bane.

The ground continues to shake, no reprieve between each of the channelings anymore. As the ritualists reach the tree, ribbons of energy extend from the great trunk to each of the dancing garou. These amber colored ribbons weave into braids as the garou move between each other, creating a web that climbs up to the tree's branches. Once more a pulse rushes out from the tree, the air a wind that is almost as powerful as the earthquake in its ability to knock someone off their feet. Shockwave reaches the pterodactyl first and drags it away from the ritualists. Snakepatcher's True Fear, and Upside Down's Guilt Trip have the thing disoriented enough that the Fianna can easily dispatch it.

Pathfinder touches the tree and brings his ribbon back with him. The ahroun continues, his step steadying again. Breathe in, breathe out, one step in front of the other.

The Stargazer also has essence ripped from /him/ rather than gnosis this time, though the pain is borne.

Dives-Deep sticks to four legs thanks to the continued tremors, her walking stick left on the ground where it fell. She continues to sway, however, dancing insofar as crinos is capable as she does her part in weaving the web of energy from the tree.

Shockwave dispatches the bird/bat/reptile cleanly, slicing his blade through the neck. A quick look is given toward Reggie and Topsy, accompanied by a swift bob of his muzzle. Then he moves on. More wyrmthings to dispatch.

Scars-of-Dirt is focusing his attentions in staying upright and making a shredded bane souffle.

Friend-to-the-Fallen almost snarls at Evac until she realizes it's another friendly Garou. She snaps her attention at the bane pointed to her, and kills it off quickly. Without so much as a grateful grunt, the Cliath rushes off to fill the gap left by Wildfire.

Oath-Ring's howl is set at teeth-jangling pitches, the Get holding steady as he guides his ribbon of light. His physical and spiritual strength are as yet unfailing.

Bridge Builder and the crinos Dancer are both torn and bloodied by the time Moros arrives. Between them, they end the threat quickly, and Kavi rolls to his feet, tipping his head to the side to look up at the giant Fury. There's no time for words, though, before two more come within reach.

Scar, bleeding, shifts his weigth, swaying to 'ride' the steady quakes and growls in pain -- but stands steady, focussed on the ritual.

Moros shares a glance with Kavi briefly before the pair go to work, now fighting side by side (though more often, back to back).

Wildfire takes three steps, but the Bat-Pterodactyl-Thing is already dispatched. Can't get 'em all. He returns to the line-up, kicking a kitten into a puff of dust as he goes.

First-Strike doesn't manage to swallow her cry of pain this time, not entirely, but it turns into a snarl, and she turns her hands to the ground and pushes herself back up. Back up again. ~Gaia, Luna, Helios! Planetary Incarna, Lords of the Quarters, pack fathers and mothers, spirits of nature, Garou of all thirteen tribes, listen now as I speak of what was and what comes! Magpie, Cougar and Buffalo, we honor and remember your sacrifice forever! First totems of the Wheel and the Wheel renewed, we call to you! Fog, first patron of the Hidden Walk, who kept us safe and secret until the fallen ones came, we honor and remember your gifts! First totem of the Hidden Walk, we call to you! Chimera, Mirror Lady, second patron of the Hidden Walk, who taught us wisdom in dreams and in waking, who sent us the steps to regain our Caern again, we honor and remember your teachings! Chimera, we call to you!~

Snakepatcher grunts at the Alpha's takedown of the petrodactyl, nearly sounding satisfied, but an Ahroun's work is never done, and he takes up the next chore to do, executing it with a slice of his razor-sharp claws through a bane, and the next chore, and so on. Upside-Down and Snakepatcher once more go wherever it seems the line is weakest. They use their Rage for position, and their considerable strength and combat experience to make an efficient killing machine: closing, pincer-like on a hapless foe, parting and moving on to the next.

Seeks-Raging-Water makes a fighting retreat back toward the line of Garou protecting the ritualists. The enemy slashes at her, she slashes at them, but eventually she makes it back to the others and falls in with them, so that she's got backup available and isn't so vulnerable to getting surrounded.

The only fortunate thing about the constant pulses of energy is that they're throwing off the attackers as well as the defenders. Evac stumbles, but the fomor she had her heart set on flat-out falls on his ass, allowing the Ragabash the opportunity to simply growl and lunge right at the thing's throat. A jerk of her head later, and she's got the thing's throat in her teeth and is heading to her next target.

Grapples with Fire's howl at this call is touched with the sharper sound of pain as her skin splits and blood flows freely to coat her white fur.

White Bison and Wrong Way remain surprisingly spry through the calling of former caern totems, the weaving of their gnosis still clear and bright amongst the rest.

Scars-of-Dirt flops a few times through the tremors. Kicks what banes he can until he can again get up. After killing a fat one, the Fang runs nearer the ritualists to serve as a meat shield-

First-Strike steels herself. Her next howl reaches out over the chaotic storm of combat, over the trembling earth, over the trees, Beyond. ~Great spirits who witness our struggle, Gaia's heart is nearly ready. We call to you, Kindred! Our Caern will need a new patron, new guidance. Spirits of Gaia, we ask for your sacrifice. Spirits of Gaia, we call the willing among you forth!~

As Mouse calls on former totems, the ritual enters its final stages. Shimmering into the already volatile air are the massive, translucent images of Cougar, Magpie and Buffalo. The spirits surge forth, taking out banelings and fomori by the handfuls. Cougar cuts a swath through the enemy with the fury and vengeance of a true predator. Buffalo's massive charge tramples thousands under hoof, while Magpie joins the other cohorts of the air to pick off any that might threaten the ritual again. A fog descends upon the enemy, as well, obscuring friend, while strangling the breath of the enemy. The Lady of Mirrors makes herself known in a variety of guises that pull enemy right into the clutches of the garou. Nevertheless, the onslaugh seems unending.

The seventh hour. Shockwave is exhausted, but still the Fianna fights with the ferocity born of stubborn refusal to give in. One more hour to go. The unending onslaught is met with blade and claw. Those garou he fights near are given growls of encouragement (or sharper words of 'get your butt going' if needed), and he just. keeps. swinging.

Pathfinder's teeth bare as the ritual continues. He bleeds freely, but his steps are still true.

A glittering arc, and Battlecry's sword dispatches yet another fomor of so many to have lost count, slicing it through the middle. Another is butted with the sword's hilt, then batted aside with a gauntlented fist.

Friend-to-the-Fallen's exhaustion is catching up to her - she's barely able to hold the line as ordered. She continues to fight with ferocity, but her strikes are slower in coming. She's bitten, and pushed, and knocked over, and hit, again and again. Stubbornly, the Cliath fights on.

Scar's echoing howl breaks off in a cry of pain as several of his scars open up and bleed. Yet he still stands, claws digging into his palms.

Blow for blow fury blooded pair fight against the swarm, though eventually becomes clear that the galliard is no match for his partner. Teeth and claws strike violent blows, and even after the Glass Walker is obviously flagging, he charges on. In one last lunge, his teeth find purchase on the enemy's foreleg, but he's just an instant too slow in pulling back. The hispo Dancer's teeth take hold on his shoulder, ripping through muscle and cracking bone. The galliard goes down, for a moment still. But Gaia isn't done with him, yet, and with the fury of his rage, he returns.

As unforgiving and unyeilding as his Tribe's Totem, Oath-Ring dances doggedly on, stamina holding. He grimaces as yet more of his spirit is drawn from him, yet yields it readily even as the ritual drains him dry.

Peacemaker is hurting and tired as the ritual goes on, drawing upon her willpower to keep going in the dance despite the pain and other distractions, adding her own howl to First Strike's call to the Totem spirits.

Upside-Down fights with dogged steadiness, and with speed that can only come from Rage and Ahroun Gifts. Her pale pelt grows red. She too begins to call out encouragement now, though. ~Nice /work/, scars! Keep it up, Seeks-Raging-Water! That's the way! Oh, jolly good, here's the cavalry!~ she adds in welcome to the spirits now fighting alongside. ~That's right, Shockwave, rally the troops! Come on, everyone! This is the home strait now! Tally ho!~ The appearance of the former Caern totems has an energizing effect on Snakepatcher, and he fights on, knowing that even the history of the caern stands behind the defenders.

Whisper, now finished with her fomor, turns around and lunges at the Dancer fighting with Bridge-Builder. She reaches for the powerful hispo frame, sinking in claws and -yanking-. A bellow, noise and challenge, escapes her. Quiet of course, but a bellow still.

Bad Moon Rising finishes off the Dancer as Kavi falls and then rises again, then gets out of the Glass Walker's way as he rampages, simply following along to keep his battle-partner from being overwhelmed.

In spite of her constant sprinting around the battlefield, Evac shows no sign of even slowing. Her pelt is slick with sweat and all manner of blood, gore, dust and detritus, but she keeps right on dashing about, barreling through the air and taking out targets of opportunity wheresoever they arise, her motions accurate and mechanical. She's accrued no shortage of glancing injuries throughout the hours, but has regenerated all save for a particularly ugly gash along her back, which has only recently stopped bleeding.

As the combat goes longer and longer, the Adren Strider more than proves his reputation for endurance. While Slash doesn't offer the encouragement that Topsy does, he _does_ move from place to place among the defenders, doing his best to give the Garou who need it at least a moment here and there to catch their breaths amid the fighting.

Scars-of-Dirt keeps going. Now that his fears are gone, the Fang claws and bites almost gleefully. And again, his battle fugue takes over, and the crinos accidentally smushes a bane under him as a tremer hits again.

Wildfire is tireless. Bodies stack now haphazardly aroung him, bane, formor, and other wyrm-things alike. The rage the Get spills is surely legendary, as though this were the final battlefield.

Tradewinds cries out in pain now, as she gives of herself, rather than surrendering Gnosis to the Caern. Feathers a matted bloody mess, she stumbles briefly, then continues with the dance.

High above the Garou, Memory drops on last bomb at some unseen and oncoming enemy, then folds her wings and drops from the sky. She unfolds them as the raven swoops low over the battle. ~There is a giant NEXUS CRAWLER coming!~ She screeches out in warning. ~To the northwest!~ She then repeats herself several times, before aiming to get clear of the battle again.

Shockwave pricks his ears forward and up at the bird, and then, revitalized, wades through the battlefield to find the ranking non-ritualist ahrouns. ~Upside-Down!~ he bellows. ~Rally your pack! Wildfire! Yours as well! Everyone! Keep it away from the ritualists! GET READY.~

Pain is something that every Garou learns to deal with, but when Song-of-Vengeance's gnosis is gone, utterly, the fire that scorches her flesh causes her to shudder and slump almost completely to the ground. She's up again, though, rising from her crouch, teardrop-shaped scars scattering over her flesh, burning like fire almost to the bone.

Scars-of-Dirt pants, gore covered, but injured. The cry about a Nexus Crawler makes him freeze a bit, however.

The magpie appears again, moving very swiftly, then dipping down toward the Garou. It alights on the ground, not quite close enough to touch, its attention clearly toward the northwest.

That news nearly causes Evac to trip over her own paws for the first time in years. Her head jerks up towards Memory, in momentary disbelief before she immediately rallies to Shockwave's position, reaching the Alpha as swiftly as her paws will carry her.

The last hour sees dawn threatening to the east. But it's not quite here yet, and the enemy remains too numerous to truly count. And now, the corax gives warning that the sept's old, dear friend lurks just off the bawn to the northwest. Panic, even among those of the Wyrm, erupts on the battlefield, as banes, wyldlings, lunes, and everything scrambles in a chaotic rush in various directions, some desperate to simply get away from the nexus crawler. The defenders--exhausted, and no doubt down to the last shreds of rage, willpower, and gnosis--nevertheless remain standing. Anything that even gets close to the ritualists is cut down by garou claws. Reality seems to rip the sky in two for a moment, the aurora disappearing as the crawler--its image different for each that unfortunately gets eyes on it--briefly shows itself over the treetops. An ear-bleeding noise--not a howl, nor a screech, but something akin to the tearing of metal--deafens the ears, and each garou--ritualist and defender alike--fall to the ground. Banes, spirits, everything shudders with the agony of that sound--a sound that seems visual as well as auditory, but not in any explicable way.

To the caern, Minion: And everyone takes -3 more. Just like that.

Slash lets out a low whistle at the announcement of a Nexus Crawler. ~Well, shit.~ comes the ravaged voice of the Strider at the announcement of what's approaching, and then he lets out a yelp of pain as he falls to his hands and knees, blood seeping from his ears.

The magpie shivers as wounds open up along its sides. There's a second tearing sound, this one vaguely reminiscent of paper, and suddenly the bird is no longer a bird, but a fox. An upright, half-man, half-fox wearing a canvas duster, with his dark furred face painted red and white. ~Well /fuck your mother/,~ the Fox-thing wheezes, toward the oncoming Crawler--though not loud enough to be heard by it.

With a jolt, Snakepatcher looks up at Memory's warning. He grimaces, and vows, ~It shall not pass!~ ~For Gaia and the Caern!~ Upside-Down hollers, fist-pumping the air, then in an aside to Snakepatcher that likely travels far enough for several others to hear, ~This will make it a hat-trick for me. But, there. The poor things can't possibly be /happy/... Aegis, dear, are you coming too?~ Dropping to all fours for speed, the two big Ahroun prepare gallumph towards the new threat with the other Garou, only to be struck down by that horrifying sound.

Bridge Builder falls with the others, but though he remains in his hispo form, he also remains on his side, unmoving.

Scars-of-Dirt smacks into the ground, his scars opening nastily as the Crawler arrives.

Pathfinder is walloped and falls to the ground. Picking himself up slowly, he stays on his feet. Still, though, breath is hissed through his teeth, and his nose drops blood. The ritual continues.

Friend-to-the-Fallen grits her teeth, and hobbles closer to her pack. She keeps switches her attention to the northwest a moment too late. The noise rips through her, and whatever sound she makes as she drops to the ground is lost. The Cliath lies prone, trying to get her breath back in quick heaves.

First-Strike barely keeps from dropping into the Gnosis bowl, her nose mere inches away from the collected blood and now-visible spirit stuff. Her ears bleed freely, streaks of blood down her face, between her eyes. No avoidance of pain now; she cries out, breathing heavily, and it takes everything she has to keep her arms under her. A cockroach spirit roughly the size of a small dog skitters toward her, but doesn't touch.

Scar drops to the ground with a strangled cry, bleeding copiously and clutching at his knee. He remains there for a few moments before trying to get back to his feet, teeth gritted, calling on last reserves of strength to just... get... back... up.

The appearance of the Nexus Crawler sends a jolt through Song-of-Vengeance, skin rupturing like an overripe melon at the signt of the thing, one eye bursting, the sound unnatural and blistering. She's incapacitated, but not dead, looking through her one remaining eye, the other hidden by her hat that, somehow, is still on her head.

Peacemaker is floored by that screech, and she lets out a roar of pain as she falls to the ground. ~Gaia, help us,~ she breathes out as she tries to pull herself at least to all fours to continue the circle, drawing upon her willpower once again.

And then reality shreds. The Fianna elder is brought down to his knees, and he slowly picks himself up. His teeth bare, claws knit around the hilt of the blade. ~Steady!~ he bellows, though the sound is lost even to his own ears.

Pain, yes, that is a thing. Like most of the other ritualists, Nieve is offering blood from most orifices and numerous slashes, the dance now more of a shuffle along, her streamer of gnosis increasingly flickery as life and breath are stolen from her.

Grapples with Fire goes down, but the growl of pain and anger becomes a howl of defiance and her drumming resumes even as she forces herself back to her feet.

Battlecry lurches as reality suddenly splits and turns, roiling in front of him. Largely by staring into the lunar light of the his blade, the Fang manages push himself through the pain and whirling urge to vomit, nearly going blind in the process. He falls to one knee, and then pushes himself up again teeth grinding as he brings hs sword to bear.

Tradewinds screams, blood seeping from her tear ducts as she stumbles. It is only through a sheer force of will that she remains dancing, one leg dragging in a strange manner.

Memory had been trying to distance herself from the battle, but the Crawler's attack catches her as she frantically tries to gain distance from the fighting. The bird voices a harsh pained cry, momentarily blinded and stunned, she tumbles out of the sky and hits the ground just outside the ritual circle with a small wet thud.

Bad Moon Rising, prone and bleeding, thrashes about on the ground, clawing and snarling, red eyes rolling white in their sockets.

Drawing deep on the well of willpower, Oath-Ring pushes through the pain, staggering to his paws. The Get is bound and determined that the Rite will not fail for any lacking in himself, though blood now runs from his ears and completes his transformation from crinos to something resembling a blood-golem. Determinedly, he throws a pained and hoarse howl back at the painful keening.

Earth-Whisperer looks as though he's been punched in the gut... but recovers after a moment of whispering to the Earth. Paladin bodily falls to the ground, lying there for a moment and taking shallow breaths... but manages to push himself back up. Barely.

Turtle drawls toward the fallen Corax, with the darkest of humor, ~Nice job running away, Feathers.~

Wildfire was almost content to play the part of the Einherjar in the feast halls, to fight on against the hode, until the cacophony causes him to bleed from places he didn't know he had. He turns the to look towards the Crawler, idly pulling out a talen he had received earlier. ~Here, play with this,~ he mutters to the thongs of wyrm critters on his end of the battlefield.

That single noise seems enough physical harm send Seeks-Raging-Water to the ground in a spray of her own blood. She does not rise again, although she's still breathing should anyone examine her closely enough to tell.

Wrong Way falters, dropping to the ground and catching herself on her good hand. She gives a rough shake, blood spattering those nearby, as she struggles to resume her dance.

The sudden and unexpected /pain/ that awful, baleful sound instills into Evac is enough to drop her immediately, but she shoves her paws right back underneath her and growls her way back up in an instant, her eyes wide with fury. She forces herself to stop moving for a moment to let her superficial injuries knit back together, her eyes focused squarely and hatefully at the Nexus Crawler, her glare an abject denial. Once her ears stop ringing, she sends a look to Shockwave, seeking orders.

Dives-Deep staggers but does not fall, if only because she was already on all fours, and thus more stable. For a moment, it seems the attack might have been enough to trigger a frenzy in the Gnawer Theurge, but she fights it back down with an effort of will, instead struggling to continue the ritual to the best of her ability.

With a howl of pain, visiting Uktena Theurge falls. She's up again with a force of will, and continuing the ritual.

~Fuck... fuck you,~ Memory rasps out weakly, as she struggles to her feet and takes a quick look around. Song-of-Vengeance just happens to be the closest downed Garou to the Corax's current position and she makes a short hopping flight towards the ritualist and does her best to heal her.

~/That's/ the spirit,~ the Fox-thing says, clearly pleased, as he lifts both hands in front of him, and settles into a stance from which he could spring in just about any direction.

Staggering, Whisper takes a few quavering steps and then falls, bleeding from many places, dazed and injured by the Crawler's opening gambit.

Bad Moon Rising rolls onto his back and then sits up with a pained grunt. He shakes his head a little, then woozily looks around for Kavi.

Scars-of-Dirt stands back up, standing to fight again. He has to, otherwise he has failed again.

The Walker elder's call for a new totem brings no spirit known to them, before. But it does bring forth several that they may know in spirit, if not in flesh. The very forest itself seems to come alive at the call, and not even the Nexus Crawler's unearthly call stops the trees, vines, and flora from moving to the garous' aid. Above, in the skies, the aurora returns, and streaked across its purplish hue is sun-streaked fire of a phoenix like bird that swoops on George and sets part of him on fire. Out of every corner of the forest, spiders emerge--but these are not the metallic-sheened workers that belong to the Weaver. Instead, these are yellow and green colored orb-weavers of the forest, and their quickly woven webs stop bane after bane from taking another step. The older caern totems continue to fight, though mobbed by various enemies, they look as though their energies are beginning to falter. Tribal and pack totems alike fair similarly, and the nexus crawler rears its inexplicable visage again, looking like it might rend reality once more.

Dives-Deep can't stop the ritual to administer healing, but after putting out a call to her packmates over their link, Dives-Deep draws back her arm and throws, trusting that the small white box with her healing talens will be caught and put to good use. For all that she's shaky on her feet, she doesn't seem to consider herself badly enough hurt to need one.

Shields-the-Young stumbles, goes down, and then rises to dance again. She keeps tracing her path, determined.

That white box of talens is promptly caught by Battlecry, who is right there near the edge of the ritual circle. He peeks within, nods, and then, as his name implies, he belts out a clear, echoing, and exultant howl that all is not lost, and those who are hurt should rally to him to prep the final defense. Naturally, he uses one of the talens on himself.

Bridge Builder is still breathing, though there is no sign of waking from the torn and bloody hispo.

Shifting-Briar snarls fiercely as she stumbles, a hand catching her against the ground as she forces her body onward in the ritual's long dance.

First-Strike pulls the bowl close to her, cradling it, almost hugging it. With weary but determined gestures, she begins moving a hand over it--the donated Gnosis, now visible, spills out of the bowl, between her fingers, around and around, joining with the ribbon-weaving of the ritual dancers, tangling around and through the tree, and the dais, and the strange empty place that hints at the Wyrm glyph. It glitters on the leaves of the giant tree, tracing dew-like lines in the bark. ~Now by the keeper of the gates and by my magic I end what I began.~ she intones.

~Let the fire be flame,
Let the well be water,
Let the wind be air,
Let all be as it was before.
Let the gates be closed!~

Evac casts a hungry glance toward the Talens that Battlecry is offering - then regards the rest of the group around her. Grinding her teeth, she rushes forward and snags one of the Talens from Battlecry and rather than using it on herself, she returns to Bridge Builder's side before activating the talen.

Not again. Not if he can help it. Wildfire charges through the fight, using his boiling rage to close the distance towards George. He has at least one more gift to give.

Instead of getting a talen, Shockwave uses a gift in a desperate bid to interrupt the Nexus Crawler.

Bad Moon Rising is in the process of attempting to pick Kavi up and haul him to Battlecry -- no small feat for the badly wounded Ahroun -- but Evac saves him the trouble. He grunts a thanks to the Walker Ragabash, then turns woozily to the battle.

A totem-spirit moves towards those Garou that have fallen, a middle-aged woman in white (though some would be sure she looked younger earlier on in the fight). She kneels beside Whisper and hovers a hand over her shoulder. Topsy, meantime, does much the same to Snakepatcher while eyeing the Nexus Crawler's progress and the goup assembling with Dirk.

Turtle crouches, dipping his fingers into the loose soil.

Scars-of-Dirt growls, running after Owen to attack the damned monster.

Friend-to-the-Fallen wants to rally, she really does. She pulls herself up, muscles trembling in pain and fatigue. Blood-soaked, she crouches and bares her fangs at anything coming her way.

Battlecry also rushes a talen to Raging-Water in a bid to wake her before the Nexus Crawler gets any closer. Next he tries to rush to and revive Whisper as well... but the look on his face when he arrives at her crumpled body is dark. No talen is used. He then returns to the rallying point.

Bridge Builder groans, his voice barely audible, and his eyes open, attempting to focus on Evac.

Pathfinder 's nostrils flare, and, though he continues the dancing ritual, he burns through his rapidly-falling willpower to try to withstand the final blow.

After doing her best to heal Song-of-Vengeance, Memory does her struggles to make her way towards Alexandra, wing beats growing ever stronger as the seconds tick by. If she manages to reach the fallen Shadow Lord, she spends the last of her Gnosis in an attempt to heal the Ahroun. The rest having been given to Mouse's bowl, before the Ritual began.

From the Southeast comes something as inexplicable as George--almost as if it were drawn not only by the ritual, but by the nexus crawler as well. It has no one form, and yet it can be clearly seen. A dance of lights, a vision of flowing energy, only half comprehended by mortal eyes. It gives a shudder of its own, and in an instant, everything in a straight line from it--bane, spider, and tree alike--suddenly loses all cohesion. Atoms fall apart, and things simply cease to exist, and yet what made them them is still there, a writhing mass of pure...potential that fans out in various directions, infecting anything it touches sudden tumors and growths. The thing moves like hungry dog on the trail of a bone, to clash with George. It ripples again, and the Nexus Crawler screams. This time, though the garous' ears may bleed from the sheer magnitude of it, the damage is minimal. At least to them. George loses half of himself to the Thing's...primal force. With a quick recoil, the crawler moves away, and the Thing pursues.

Peacemaker lets out another cry of pain as the final portion of the Rite takes from the Ritualists again, and then she collapses to the ground within the circle. Alive, but out.

Seeks-Raging-Water groans and gets slowly, painfully to her feet. With Battlecry and Val's healing, she's at least functional again. "Thanks," she offers to the two of them, though anything further she might have said is lost in the roar and the chaos, and she just stares, gaping, as the Nexus Crawler is driven off.

Scar, on his feet by sheer force of will, utters a final long, ragged howl in echo of First-Strike's incantation.

Now isn't the time for a warm and mothering Evac. The ragabash gives Bridge Builder a firm shake of the shoulders, hissing, "Up! /UP!/ You aren't done here. We aren't done here. UP." With those words of support, she rushes back in the direction of Shockwave, staring up at the inbound Nexus Crawler, eyes goggling at the sudden intervention of the third-party energy mass. She hesitates, uncertain if they're saved or well and truly fucked.

Scars-of-Dirt stops, whimpering as his ears bleed. And stares as the light thing chases the monster off. Quite Honestly, dirt has never seen anything like this, and it takes him few moments to collect his wits and join the ritualist guard meat shield again.

Memory fluffs out her feathers and stares, beak open and gaping.

Tradewinds stumbles again, each dance-step now accompanied by a pained whine.

Grapples with Fire cries out again as the power the ritual takes from her is her own, and nearly all of her fur is matted with blood and dirt. Even with all that she gives to the rite, a fraction of her attention is granted to the grand struggle between Nexus Crawler and Other. There is a flash of recognition, another of gratitude, and she gives the last of her strength to join the howl.

Bad Moon Rising takes over from Evac as the Ragabash rushes off, grunting and smacking at Bridge Builder to get him up; the Fury Metis is apparently unwilling to leave the Walker, though he's back down on his knees and probably isn't going much of anywhere now.

Shockwave falters, his grip on the blade still tight, but at this point, he just watches. ~Holy Gaia,~ the elder murmers, under his breath enough that perhaps only Evac might hear. Still, though, he doesn't hesitate long. ~Stay out of their way!~ he says, loud, voice hoarse with the hours spent fighting.

Battlecry howls again, bright and fierce, for the wounded, or any defenders who need direction, to rally to the group guarding the ritualists with their very bodies if necessary.

First-Strike, once she's finished, merely sinks over the now-empty bowl. It's not clear whether she's conscious or not, though the sinking is slow, almost gentle.

Snakepatcher slowly pulls himself back upright, every movement stiff with pain, and he looks about, dismayed to see so many down. Upside-Down stands beside him to watch the... whatever-it-is enter the field and see off the nexus Crawler, impressed despite herself. While not ungrateful, she looks politely wary of this mysterious help. ~I suspect getting too close is a bad idea. Getting close to /anything/ that scares a Nexus Crawler is probably a bad idea.~ The Gaian Ahroun is looking battered- her packmate looks rather better than she does- but she braces herself to keep going. Aegis, meantime, moves on to the next of the ritualists who is still badly hurt.

Once the final bit is ripped from him, Pathfinder collapses into a bloody heap, consciousness lost. He still breathes.

Friend-to-the-Fallen digs her talons into the dirt as the noise stings her ears again. They're flat against her head, and one of them is torn badly. She lets out a light howl, both in pain and to get her packmate's attention.

Bridge Builder moves in response to the prodding, first lifting his head and then rolling to his belly. He looks to Moros, studying the metis for a long moment, and then pushes the rest of the way to his feet.

Scar sways, his howl fading away. Slowly, the old Walker crumples in place. Blood still oozes sluggishly from his wounds, and his chest rises and falls shallowly.

Once it's clear that the rite is complete, Dives-Deep finally gives in to her wounds and exhaustion, simply collapsing in place. She's conscious, if only just, but she's not done anything remotely this taxing before, and it'll probably be a while before she's recovered enough strength to do much in the way of moving.

Tradewinds' steps slow to a crawl, then stop all together as the ritual ends. She slowly sinks to the ground, a heap of bloodied feathers, and the only movement is her harsh breathing.

Earth-Whisperer remains standing, bleeding, but still holding his ground fiercely. He will not be removed. Paladin is also moving... barely. His walking is nearly a crawl as the rite takes nearly all he has left.

Memory shakily takes to the air and ends up landing on Evac's shoulder. Shaking a little, as she watches the fight between the two colossal spirits. ~Holy shit,~ she deadpans.

Along with many others, Nieve simply keels over when the rite finishes, that last bit of her essence stolen. She is not dead, but laying still and focusing on breathing, on letting her natural regeneration do its work.

Slash has seen a great many things in his years, but nothing quite like this. The bloodied Strider watches the battle between spirits with awe and a faint sigh of relief that it doesn't seem they'll have to fight that monster.

As the howls fade, Wrong Way settles down onto her belly in a posture much more appropriate to a lupine form than crinos. She keeps watch on the battling titans and her jaws part in a grin.

Unbelievably, Oath-Ring is still relatively functional. Too drained of Gnosis to heal, and too drained of energy to do much but sit down anyway, but the only wounds other than those self-inflicted are the result of the Nexus Crawler. In a weary daze he watches the titanic battle, a spectator at something few Garou can ever claim to have seen, and fewer still can claim to have seen and lived to speak of. Then he startles, and his head turns as recollects his spirit-friends. His strangely mismatched gaze sweeps the Umbra and the physical realm alike for them.

Evac gives a sharp nod of agreement to Memory's assertion, watching the encounter tensely. Still, she's a ragabash, and not without her gallows humor even staring a grisly demise in the face. ~I'm just...gust gonna go ahead and hope whoever comes out on top ain't interested in us.~

Bad Moon Rising is distracted from the battle between the two giants to look down at Bridge Builder. He bares bloody fangs in a way that's probably meant to be friendly.

White Bison's ears perk forward, interest foremost in her posture as she watches the pair square off. Blood still trickles from her ears, but the ancient Uktena seems otherwise unharmed, if exhausted.

Aegis moves from Garou to Garou, the Totem's healing Charm used many times as she fulfils her pack's pact.

Shields-the-Young sways, looking around for those who might need the most help.

The Crawler actually cowers in the face of...whatever that is. As it moves across the bawn towards George, it leaves a swath of Wyld taint and energy in its wake. The Get of Fenris, with his last ounce of gnosis, rage, and WP, leaps at the Crawler to keep it from screaming again--and potentially killing everyone in the caern. As the Get lands, Wyvern's sting becomes an annoyance to the Nexus Crawler, but it has only a moment or two to even react before the mass of odd Wyld Energy clashes straight into it. Wildfire disappears in the melee, completely out of sight. The rest of George, as well, seems to lose cohesion and fall away in a horrible spray of particles and energy. The thing seems to shimmer a moment and then spread out in all direction, losing form itself. The battle field is left with wounded warriors, dying wyrmthings, pack totems, and three new spirits hovering overhead: Gyhldeptis, the Spirit of the Forest, Wixalxali, the Orb Weaver, and Aahn, the Renascence Bird.

Bridge Builder tries shaking his head, but immediately regrets it, eyes closing and ears pressing against his skull in a wince. He looks back to Moros, and though his expression isn't remotely related to a grin, there is acceptance there and in the slow blink he offers.

Shifting Briar looks up at them in a kind of fierce awe.

Scars-of-Dirt winces,seeing Wildfire sacrifice himself. He almost tries to run, but stops. Just,staring.

Pirate Trader, blissfully unconcious. Which at this precise moment -is- bliss for her.

Shockwave can do little else but watch with a grim expression, but at last her forces himself to turn away. Limping, exhausted, battered, bloody, the Alpha of the Sept approaches the three new spirits hanging overhead. And, though he can't speak Spirit Speech, he lowers the blade to the ground, point toward himself in symbolic gesture, and kneels to them in both greeting, reverence, and welcome.

Bad Moon Rising looks up at the spirits, looks at Shockwave, and then slowly, shakily, almost as if in a trance, lowers himself onto a knee and raises one bloodied hand in a gesture of reverence.

Slash's eyes widen as Wildfire vanishes in the chaos, sending a shout across their packlink to see if he gets any response from the Get Ahroun and echoing it aloud, although given the battle scar on his throat, the one with his voice isn't loud enough to carry far. Judging by his expression, he doesn't seem overly optimistic of a reply.

Battlecry finally releases his near-death-grip from the Aegis Radiant, severing the gnosis bond. The glowing lightly suddenly disperses, and the sword falls silent, almost as if unwishing to outshine the new spirits, or grieve for the fallen warriors. The Fang himself falls to one knee, and sheathes the sword.

Scars-of-Dirt lowers himself to the ground,exposing his throat at the new totems.

Evac's eyes track Owen's progress when the Get makes his move. She gives a sharp inhale of breath and shakes her head quickly, eyes wide, mouthing a few words and then ultimately wincing when he disappears between the warring creatures. She bares her teeth, taking a few steps forward, then when both Nexus Crawler and Nightwalker have vanished, she shucks Memory off of her shoulder and sprints off to see if - against odds - the Get has come out safely.

Memory looks up at the Caern's new Totem spirits, ear-feather's standing straight up. She opens her beak and voices a warm welcome, which in the traditional raven-way, is loud and somewhat harsh sounding.

Friend-to-the-Fallen's winces at Slash's cry echoes in her head through the pack link. She lets out a hoarse howl, learning about the Jarl's loss through her pack's reaction rather than witnessing it. Weary and beat down, the Cliath drops her head, and whines.

Snakepatcher staggers about, looking for immediate threats, and lifts his head to the Nexus Crawler--in time to see Wildfire's attack and disappearance, and he stops, frozen, eyes blinking at the afterimage of George. Upside-Down watches the Get's last heroic, and very Getly, leap into danger with a steady gaze, as though documenting it for posterity. When the roar and the confusion and the fury die away, she closes her eyes and bows her head. She stands there for a moment, then takes a deep breath and straightens, first to salute the three great spirits that still to remain, then to look around. ~Well now. Nothing to be done but carry on. Come on, my dears. Who's hurt...?~ She moves towards wearily-fallen Garou to see what she can do, happening to reach Nieve first.

Bridge Builder lowers his head, eyes closing for a little longer than he probably intended. He then turns to Moros and watches the metis, assessing his injuries.

Pirate Trader is down and out, but not gone. Unconcious, breathing shallowly, covered in blood both hers and that of other ritualists. In short, about average for tonight.

Grapples with Fire drops into a crouch, one hand pressing against the soil for balance as she looks up at the three new totems.

oath-Ring gives himself a small shake, then looks at the three new spirits. ~Welcome,~ he offers, and takes a run-up at further words. ~Thank you.~ That seems to be the extent of his speech capacity, the Godi lapsing into something like an open-eyed trance.

Scar remains unconscious, three new scars to add to his already extensive collection, breathing shallowly but steadily.

Moros, still kneeling, shrinks down in homid, blood and sweat soaking into his clothes. He holds the pose for a moment or two more before sagging and then just flopping over onto his side.

Shields-the-Young looks up for a long moment, and then looks around for the leader of the ritual. When she sees First-Strike, she limps in that directn slowly.

Slash follows after Evac, dropping into lupus and calling on his gift from Owl to run twice as fast as normal so that he covers the ground more swiftly. Even if it seems hopeless, he's got to at least try to search, to see for himself.

Shockwave rises, then, and comes forth to the ritualists. When the healers have made their rounds and everyone is accounted for, he lays a hand on Mouse's shoulder. His muzzle dips and he utters something in her ear, and then he straightens. Wearily, but without hesitation, he announces: ~She who endured to save this sept, she who journeyed far and risked her life to bring our caern back from slumber. She who I am proud to call a sister, and an equal in rank. She who Endures the storm to bring the dawn! I will be the first to welcome Mouse, elder of the Glass Walkers, Athro Theurge.~

Shields-the-Young raises a howl of triumph to the sky, like some fierce Garou sort of ovation.

First-Strike is more red than brown or white, streaked with blood enough to match even the mud painting on her fur. Injuries, both self inflicted and otherwise, are not hard to locate, but most of all the Theurge seems to have been drained of everything.

Well, not quite everything. Her whiskers quiver first at the touch from Shockwave, and then, with an effort that seems monumental, she eases herself up an inch, and opens her eyes. There's no verbal response from her. Breathing is taking up most of her attention.

Battlecry moves to use the rest of these healing talens, finding Stacey and Nieve first, and gently applying the talens to both of them.

Scars-of-Dirt stays lowered, ears low still.

Likewise stirring very slowly, Nieve pushes herself up onto one elbow, staring at the sky with almost glassy eyes. ~Thanks,~ she rumbles very softly to Battlecry.

From Evac's shoulder, Memory quorks loudly and repeatedly at Shockwave's announcement, as she congratulates the new Anthro in her own way.

Wrong Way is still watching the space where the titans battled, but after several more seconds, she heads toward Salem.

Aegis works her way around- Salem, Scars, Bridge Builder to begin with.

Earth-Whisperer hobbles over to First-Strike. Despite their differences the Talon seems genuinely concerned if the Walker is still alive and breathing. Paladin, likewise, rushes to the Walker Elder's side.

Grapples with Fire turns her attention from the totems to the Glass Walker, and her jaws part. ~Well earned,~ she rumbles, before settling further into lupus to lick her wounds.

Scars-of-Dirt winces at bit as Aegis comes near him, but due to the totems still being there, does not fight the healing.

Peacemaker stirs shortly after the application of the talen, still hurting, but at least awake. She takes a moment to orient herself and figure out what's happening.

Lifting her nose and giving a deep sniff, Riley calls upon her Sense of the Prey, and the ragabash abruptly comes to a stop. She turns, and lifts an arm, halting Slash's progress with it. Her jaw works for a few moments, and she gives a quick shake of her head. ~No.~ She rumbles. ~...No. There is nothing to find.~

Bridge Builder watches his partner for a long moment more, and then turns to drag himself toward where Mouse rests. His passage is interrupted by the pack totem's attention, and his ears turn out and back, eyes closing, as the healing begins.

Scar stirs sluggishly when Wrong Way reaches him and cracks his eyes open, not quite seeing her. His vision clears once he's healed, and painfully the old Walker sits up, looking groggy. ~What...~ Then he stops and looks at his packmate.

Snakepatcher slowly turns from where the Nexus Crawler and Get vanished, to gradually take in the new totems--and blink, at there being a plurality, even though the caern has a history of such things. Even more slowly, he acknowledges Mouse's new rank, but he continues trying to take in the entire situation. Whisper's crumbled body suddenly gets his attention, and he goes to check her situation.

Shockwave then leaves the two, and he starts limping around to check up on the others. Whisper's body draws about a strained expression, ears quirking backward.

Pathfinder still lies in an unconscious heap.

Slash lets out a low whine of frustration at Evac's news, his bearing suggesting that he had held out little hope, but disappointed nonetheless.

Memory drops out of the sky and lands right in front of Jacinta, just beyond the reach of the Wendigo's arms. Her body bobs in a respectful bow, as her feathers lay flat. ~Thankyou for letting me help. I can't heal any more, so I will go.~

Moros sits up to watch Bridge Builder attend to his elder. Just that, watches, his expression distant and dazed, expressing little.

Battlecry eventually finds his way over to Pathfinder, whom he bodily lifts up to cart over to where the healing is happening.

First-Strike's ears twitch, and she murmurs, her eyes half-lidded again and getting heavier, ~Who was it? Who's gone?~

Upside-Down bustles about as best she can with her wounds stiffening, offering brisk but sympathetic encouragements and condolences (and in Mouse's case a rather hearty congratulations- and although she calls Mouse 'dear' she does at least manage to resist the urge to hug her. A Topsy hug would probably finish most people off right now). She lends her physical strength where needed, to lift and carry. Aegis stops by others- Pathfinder, Moros, Helena, with offers of healing, as needed.

~The Get,~ Shield growls. ~He gave his life.~

Turtle appears to notice the attention around where Whisper stood. The fox-thing stands a little stiller than before, his fingers leaving the dirt.

Earth-Whisperer glances around, makes a few notes, and then responds to the Walker Elder, ~Whisper and Wildfire didn't make it.~

Salem shifts down to glabro and curses quietly under his breath, in Serbian.

Pathfinder is healed, and he falls into lupus as soon as he's awake enough to do so. However, he's completely drained - rage, willpower is low, gnosis is gone. He just lays on his side and doesn't move.

Earth-Whisperer , then, with a statement that may never happen again, moves to gently and precisely pick up the Walker Elder, so he may go leave her in the hands of her tribe. Paladin looks on to make sure the Talon doesn't intend to eat her.

Moros doesn't even react to the healing he receives, but since it's enough to get him back on his feet, the monster gets up and slowly, stumblingly, wanders off.

First-Strike, under /any/ other circumstances, would never allow this. But she's slipping away again it seems, and all she manages as Earth-Whisperer hefts her up is a mutter that sounds like ~That dick.~

Snakepatcher shakes Whisper's arm, then again, and at the lack of any response, or any signs of just resting, he howls his grief to the sky.

Shields-the-Young snorts something that might be amused.

Working her way back to the gathering of Garou, Evac seats herself and gives a shake of her head. ~There is no body for Wildfire. No leavings. He is gone.~ Her voice sounds a bit deflated, and she mutters again, ~Just gone. The only thing I smell of him is the blood he left on the field.~

Shockwave steps toward the caern's center, and sets up a long, hard, but very Fianna-like howl to the sky, both of grief for the lost and victory for the living. And, somewhere far back at Edgewood, a wife and child are relieved. However, he does not leave the caern, clearly intending on at least staying for a little while.

Turtle makes his way toward the fallen Uktena and her mourning tribemate; slowly, and then faster, though his steps are impossibly light. When he gets close enough he stops, looking at her. Close as they can be in appearance, the fox-thing's body language is unreadable right now, at least to those used to wolfish gestures.

Battlecry makes the rounds once more to be sure everyone has been healed, and then paces over to Stribog, to whom he speaks before stepping away to see to his own wounds.

Bridge Builder certainly isn't in any shape to carry Mouse anywhere, but he wataches the Red Talon.

Shields-the-Young heads toward Bridge-Builder--leaving Shifting Briar behind, definitely--and offers him a... Crinos paw.

Bridge Builder looks up at Thea, exhaustion and pain etched in his features. He looks to the offered hand, and seems to consider shifting, but evidently chooses not because he raises lifts his gaze to the Fury's face again. ~See to your tribemate? I think... He's hurt more than he'll admit.~

Snakepatcher gathers up the mortal remains of Whisper in shaking arms, and looks up at Turtle.

Salem wipes a blood-soaked hand over his shirt, rubs at his eyes wearily, and then just lies back down; he's utterly spent.

Earth-Whisperer ultimately ends up nearing Evac, to whom he whispers something quietly. The Glass Walker Elder is then left with Evac and Paladin, so the Talon can take his leave. And he does. Back down to lupus, and then heads to the south.

Shields-the-Young limps off to find said Fury, following the messy trail he's no doubt left behind.

Scars-of-Dirt sits up, looking at the forest, ears kept low. He stands up and looks around a bit for Dirk.

Wrong Way drops to hispo and nudges at Salem. ~Come,~ she says. ~Whisper needs us.~

Seeks-Raging-Water heads toward the mountains and Thunder Cave as she makes her exit from the center of the caern.

Scars-of-Dirt looks around a bit defeated, ears held low. And then the crinos takes his lupus form, thought with difficulty and lopes towards edgewood house.

Peacemaker shifts to lupus once she is able and slowly slinks over to try to find Grapples-with-Fire.

Turtle brings two fingers to his forehead, as if he were tipping an invisible hat. As strange as that gesture might be, more strange is that he is clearly giving it to Whisper, before he looks up--quite up, the fox-thing is barely over man height--to Snakepatcher. ~If you'd be willing, you and her pack,~ he glances toward Wrong Way and Salem, ~I'd like to provide transportation that I think she'd find amusing, and it'll save you all from the walk to wherever you want to take her.~ One hand slips toward an inside pocket of his duster, pulling at what looks to be colored paper. ~Ten minutes?~

Salem nods wearily to Wrong Way and, digging up a last reserve of will, heaves himself back upright. Turtle gets a frowning, questioning look.

Paladin, with Evac's help, move carefully to take Mouse from the Talon, and carefully carry her towards Edgewood (and then ostensibly, the Tenement).

First-Strike is fully unconscious again by this point, her words about Owen seem to have been all she could manage. Good luck carrying her, though. While the Walker Theurge is thin from fasting and has never been particularly heavy in relative respect, she's still in crinos. And covered in blood.

Memory takes her leave, making a quick tight circle above Turtle, Snakepatcher, and the fallen Metis. She voices a low cooning wail, full of sadness and respect for the dead, then her wings carry her out of the Caern and elsewhere.

~She is beyond being amused~, Snakepatcher informs Turtle, as he stands, the body cradled in his arms, and turns to the approaching people. ~Her pack--? Ah. yes. She will be honored as a hero, in the burial mounds.~

Slash does not linger long as others begin to disperse, slipping off with no particular heading in mind.

Turning her gaze calmly on Earth-Whisperer as the Talon approaches, Evac pauses at the words whispered to her. She quietly bobs her head, a respectful look given to the Elder Talon, before she helps Paladin carry Mouse.

Whisper is in Crinos, remaining so as her breed form, heavy enough in Snakepatcher's grasp. Several very deep, very messy wounds give the tale of her death, blood matting her otherwise plain brown-grey fur.

Tradewinds shakily gets up, shifts to lupus, and starts to slowly make her way out of the Caern.

~Never,~ Turtle protests, as solemnly as the Kitsune has ever been. ~You're never beyond that.~ He holds up a finger--they were colored papers, perfectly cut squares, and he's pulled them free of the pocket now. ~Ten minutes. She was the first to be welcoming. Consider this my way of honoring that.~

Salem eyes Snakepatcher warily, then the fox-shifter. ~Ten minutes,~ he says, in tired agreement.

Snakepatcher's movements are slowed both by his injuries and by the weight, both physical and metaphysical, of his burden. He glances from Turtle to the other two, and, as Salem gives his agreement, turns back to Turtle. ~Very well~, he nods.

Turtle selects a gray paper square from the small stack, almost the shade of Whisper's fur, if not quite. Salem gets a nod, then Snakepatcher, and then the Fox turns, takes a few steps, and settles cross-legged on the ground. What he does isn't immediately clear, but he's obviously manipulating the paper in some way, and his head is bowed. Blocked as they are, the motions are still clearly reverent.

Salem simply watches, swaying slightly, bloodied hands hanging limp at his sides.

The burden grows no lighter as Snakepatcher waits. He's tired, and he watches Turtle as if not quite certain if Turtle will explode, or something similar.

There's no rush to the Kitsune; no slowness either, but no rush. It does in fact take the full ten minutes, during which he is silent in his folding, apart from the occasional...chitter? No, it's language, perhaps, but not any that a Garou could understand, and it is so quiet that it's likely they wouldn't be able to make out what he's saying even if they could. And then, just like that, the strange creature is done. He stands, and holds up what turns out to be a small, gray, origami elephant. ~Don't be alarmed now.~

The directive not to be alarmed ironically causes Snakepatcher to be more wary, and he eyes the paper elephant. He sighs. ~And?~

~I don't have it in me to be alarmed, right now,~ rumbles the Glabro-form Glass Walker. ~I honestly feel as though the wind could blow me away.

Turtle turns, spits on the paper animal, and then tosses it spinning toward one of the open areas created by the rampaging Wyld...THING. And before the paper elephant hits the ground, it's not paper anymore.

It's an elephant.

A live elephant.

An actual live elephant standing right there on the Bawn. And as if it were perfectly trained, the massive creature kneels down, first front legs and then hind, to allow people to get on it.

Wrong Way twists her head to look up at the elephant. ~This thing is like a wall,~ she rumbles and then huffs out a breath. ~I like it.~

Salem blinks at the elephant, and as he said, he's apparently too tired to be alarmed, or astonished, or anything. He just nods.

Snakepatcher takes a step back, but having to hold on to a full-sized crinos reduces his agility, and he stops, eyeing the elephant which is not only staying put, but kneeling. ~A ride~, his tired brain processes and his voice quietly vocalizes. ~Whisper's last ride.~ He approaches the elephant, and briefly is too tired to process just how to get Whisper on it, and finally manages it by hauling himself and Whisper onto it. He looks towards the two remaining pack members.

~She'd find it amusing,~ Turtle echoes, but with the confidence of a man who has no doubt in what he just said. ~My gift, for her gift. On up, if you want. Try not to claw it. That would be unfortunate. But it'll take you to the burial place.~

~Thanks,~ Salem says to Turtle, then looks at Reggie. ~You can take first vigil,~ he tells the Uktena elder. ~I have... some matters to settle, back city-side.~

~Good paper,~ Wrong Way rumbles, and then butts her head against Salem. She moves away then, without a word and her form disappears as she steps through the gauntlet.

Turtle offers Salem a loose sort of salute, somehow both solemn and humorous at the same time. Then the fox thing turns and leaps up onto the elephant, as if he were weightless, first the knee, then the shoulder, then, upon a sudden shift to an actual fox form, the head. ~The best!~ the Fox, now a fox, calls after Wrong Way.