At the south-most edge of the bawn

Seth(#4090Pcr)

Five foot ten with red hair in wild disarray, Seth is a young man of apparent means, if not possessed of fashion sense. He appears healthy, strong, and fit, with muscular legs visible below his knee-length khaki shorts. The light blue T-shirt he wears bears the logo of a local band, a small tear along the shoulder. Around his waist is tied a red and green plaid flannel shirt. His hiking boots are of excellent quality, and the tan leather has been painted over with bright purple and orange designs.

His backpack is well made and of the upper end available in the finer sporting stores. Like his boots, the pack has been personalized in the most visible of ways. With enough room for a personal tent and sleeping bag, he probably carries enough for several days of hiking.

Around his neck, Seth wears a gold chain, a wolf's head pendant visible just below his collar.

Seth's knees are scraped, his arms bear scratches from thorns or other brush, and his clothes are mud stained. Compass in hand, he sits at the base of a tree, looking to the sun, down to the compass, and back. Occasionally, he glances at his digital watch in between. Confusion and despair combine on his sweat-streaked brow.

The Philodox is just making her way across the Caern and back towards the farm when she hears movement from up ahead. The small red wolf sniffs at the wind and hunkers down, peering towards the source of the noise and trying to keep out of sight.

Seth leans forward to rest his forehead on crossed arms over his knees. He heaves a deep sigh and remains in the pose of resignation for several minutes before once again lifting his gaze to the sun where it touches the tips of the trees.

Star-Caller continues to remain as hidden as she can, squinting through the bushes to try and decide more about this person. She might not be a Guardian, but she might as well act like one.

Seth heaves another sigh and pushes to his feet. With the effort made necessary by his obvious exhaustion, the young man pulls his pack up onto his shoulders. He gives another look at his compass and makes a sighting through the trees. The compass is stowed in one of the pockets of his shorts as he starts off in the direction of his sighting.

Star-Caller hunkers down deeper into the cover of the bushes and waits until she's out of the line of his vision to careful and slowly shift to homid. Once he's a bit further down the way, she stands up, staff in hand and barks out, "Who are you?"

The voice from out of nowhere startles the young man beyond measure. Though his back is to the Uktena, his reaction is visible in the complete spasming of his entire body. The compass in his hand goes flying off into the brush. "SHIT!" he shouts, slowly turning to look for the source of the speaking.

Nascha wields her six-foot tall and ornately called staff in her right hand, a fierce look on her face. "I asked who you are." She demands as she walks towards the stranger, eyes narrowed as she stares at him.

Nascha is a petite young woman of what would seem, at first glance, a Native American origin. Her face is round and her skin of a smooth, light, even copper color. Her black hair is long and thick, frequently tied back with a strip of leather in a braided bun for ease and function and occasionally spotted with beads. Even her eyes, a dark cocoa brown, have that slightly 'pulled back' look, which in her case often emphasizes the thoughtful expression on her face. However, there is something else in her, often taking a good second look to determine. The shape of her lips and the form of her nose, the slight kink to her hair and the faint browner tinge to her skin - all suggestive of African blood. It would seem the less dominant end of her blood. Often she can be seen in traditional dress of leathers and woven cloth, but there are rare occasions when jeans and old flannel tops are required - though not often.

Seth takes a moment to focus in on the woman, gaze drifting toward her staff. One foot steps back, his hands coming up defensively. "Jeezus Christ, lady, you scared me." His eyes tick to the right, in the direction his compass flew when she first spoke, but he doesn't let his attention wander too long. "I'm Seth. I'm not gonna hurt you, okay. Don't hurt me, eh?"

"Why are you here?" No okays or go to hells, just another firm question. Nascha continues to stare at the young man right in the eyes, like a snake holding the focus of its prey.

Seth takes another half step backward. "Why? What's it to you? This is public land. Anyone can go hiking." His demeanor changes under the questioning. All the defeat and fear that had been there is replaced with defiance and anger, though it may well be the anger of a cornered, frightened animal.

"You do not look well prepared," Nascha states with a quick sweep of her eyes over him. "There are many dangerous animals out here and you are far from civilization. You shouldn't be out this far, there is much risk," she says, jaws set together as she continues to hold his eyes.

Seth shifts his pack up higher on his shoulders. He raises a brow as he looks over the strange woman. "Yah? Well, that's sorta the point of hiking, ya know? If I wanted to be near 'civilization', I'd have stayed in town."

"And if something happened to you?" Nascha says, leaning forward with her staff in hand, perhaps looming ever so slightly. "There's no cell phone towers nearby. Wolf Woods is a safer place to hike than here. If something did happen, there would be rangers near to assist you."

The looming has perhaps the opposite of the desired effect as Seth's fingers grip his the straps of his pack more tightly and his jaw sets. "Do I look like I'm carrying a cell phone? Do I look like I care where a cell phone tower is? If it's so fucking dangerous out here, aren't you afraid of getting eaten by cougars?"

The native looking girl only grins as she gives her staff a slight sweep. "I'm quite safe, but I suggest you stay very clear of this place." And this time, there's no doubting her voice is warning.

Seth drops his pack with a dull thud and the rattle of metal. "Well," he says with a glance at the salmon pink sky. "It's time to make camp. Somewhere over there," he says with a sweep of his arm, "is my compass. If it's not broken. Thanks to you. In the morning, I'll look for it. And then I'll decide where to go, next." His chin juts forward, and his hands come to rest on his hips.

Nascha gives a low, rolling snort and gives her free hand a dismissing wave. "Suit yourself, boy. I have given you a warning." And then she turns and walks away into the bush, giving him only one last look over her shoulder before she departs. Or so she means him to think.

Seth watches Nascha until she's out of sight. Then he expels a deep, tremulous breath as his knees give out and he sits down heavily on his pack.

The Uktena doesn't go far. She waits until she's out of his sight to shift to her lupus form, following his scent back to where the hiker is located. There she hunkers down to watch him for a bit longer, around a half hour, tracking what he does and if he goes anywhere.

Seth sits, trembling, for several minutes. Then he rises and moves off into the underbrush. First he uses his toe to shove aside the low leaves, but after a few minutes of fruitless searching in that way, he gets down on his hands and knees and looks more carefully.

Once he's down on his hands and knees, it's not too long before he might become aware of a low, steady breathing just a few feet off to his right. Through the green of the vegetation, two dark gold eyes can then be picked out and then the long, lean reddish brown body of a fully grown female wolf. The animal stares at the man and slowly bares her fangs, showing off each long white tooth.

Seth holds up his hands and backs up on his knees, away from the wolf and toward his pack. "Easy," he says in a soft, low voice. "Easy. I'm not gonna hurt you." Slowly, as he backs away, he rises to his feet.

Star-Caller gives a low, ominous growl in the back of her throat as she slowly pulls herself free of the brush. The animal approaches with a lower head, stiffly raised tail, and bristling reddish brown fur - all of them obvious signs of aggression. She gives a sharper, bark-like snarl as her front claws scrape the ground, shoulders and hips tightening up with the promise of an imminent charge.

Seth moves just a little more quickly, backing up toward his pack. "Hey, hey, easy now." While his right hand reaches slowly behind him to grab the strap of the pack, his left unconsciously grabs for the pendant around his neck.

Star-Caller drops her head even lower and the moment his hand falls upon the pack, she charges. She bolts forward in a sweep of motion, paws flung forward as she tries to pounce the young hiker before he can escape.

Seth doesn't try to escape. Instead, he swings the pack around him at the wolf, all fifty pounds of it striking her in the shoulder and knocking her off course. Grasping it now with both hands, he holds the pack between himself and the wolf. "Hey!" Seth raises his voice, now. "Get! Get!"

Star-Caller rolls as the pack collides with her shoulder, standing back up and shaking herself off. Wrinkling her nose, the wolf snarls and approaches him again, this time circling and slowly inching in closer and closer. Her eyes are bight, staring hard and fierce at him, looking for a point of weakness.

Seth keeps the pack between them, turning so that he's always facing the wolf. "What the heck is wrong with you?" The words are aimed at the wolf, but probably not meant for her, the tone more normal. "Hey!" he shouts again, pushing the pack outward from his body as though he might throw it at her. "Hey! Get! Shoo!"

The wolf doesn't seem at all intimidated by the yelling or the threat of the pack, which isn't normal, but then, the wolf appears similar enough to a coyote that she could be mistaken for a feral coydog. Maybe. The animal's eyes almost look too intelligent for that. She darts forward again and snaps at his ankle, like a sheep dog meaning to drive instead of bring down.

Seth backs up against the tree, sweat beading and running down the sides of his face. His breathing is ragged as he continues to try to use the pack to keep the wolf at bay. "Jeezus Fucking Christ, wolf. You got rabies, or what?" He kicks out at her as she nips at his ankle. "Get the fuck away from me."

The animal begins to look even more angry as she paces back and forth, and this time her change doesn't look like it's a mock one. Again she goes low with her jaws spread wide, going for his lower leg again with the intent this time to sink her fangs into muscle and flesh.

Seth kicks out as the animal attacks, his foot nearly connecting with her closing jaws, but not quite. Her teeth sink deep into the flesh of his calf and he screams out in pain and fear and shock and surprise. The pack is dropped as he tries to back up, but he is already backed against the tree and there is nowhere to go.

Star-Caller quickly lets go of his leg and shoves her paws back off the ground. She tries to throw herself into the boy's hip and fling him to the ground, and should that be successful, use her paws and her weight to pin him down.

As the wolf lets go, Seth turns to run. Even before the she-wolf attacks again, Seth falls, his mutilated leg giving out, tripping him. He falls to his hands and knees. Star-Caller's attack to his hip has its intended effect, and Seth is thrown to his side on the ground.

Star-Caller lopes around behind the fallen hiker and towards his back. She rears and plants her paws into his shoulder, trying to use her weight to pin him on his stomach. At the same time, she throws up her head and gives voice to a loud, booming howl.

Seth is down, but he's not out, yet. As the wolf moves around him his fingers work at the loose soil. When she comes up behind him he rolls onto his back, throwing the dirt into her face, then scrabbles backward.

Almost immediately, a pair of lupus howlings calling for war comes from the north in answering Star-Caller.

Star-Caller jerks back as her eyes sting and burn at the dirt that clouds them. Howling in rage, the Uktena gives her head a furious shake, snorting out dirt and snapping at the air. Squinting through her foggy, watering eyes, the Philodox stalks forward, following her nose and ears towards the fuzzy form of the hiker.

Seth continues to scrabble backward, fear etched in his features, now. He tries once more to stand, but once more his mauled leg betrays him and he lands again on his bottom. Even as he backs away, his fingers seek purchase on a stick, or rock, or any object he can use as a weapon.

Once the wolf's eyes are cleared, the Uktena leans forward to sink her jaws into his pack and drag it away from him, putting her between him and one more weapon he can use. She doesn't attack this time, but instead keeps a careful eye on the lame hiker, baring her teeth at him and ready to dance away from any flung objects.

Seth does indeed throw the first fist-sized rock he can grasp. His voice cracks as he shouts at her again, "Get! Get away!" His aim isn't great, but there is still power behind the throw. Even as the rock is out of his hand, he's reaching behind him for another. Blood now soaks though his sock and the ground beneath his boot, and still more leaks from the torn calf.

Star-Caller jerks away from the rock but makes no motion to leave. She just keeps circling and pacing, as though she were aiming to keep him from escaping. She licks her jaws and stares at him down the length of her muzzle, nose twitching at the scent of blood.

Minutes pass, Seth's face growing pale. He doesn't get far, as the wolf circles and cuts off even his meager attempts at escape, but he does manage to get hold of a relatively large fallen branch. He makes a couple more half-hearted throws at the wolf between his attempts at cleaning the stick into a more useful weapon.

Making their way out into the open is Forath Ripper and Kills-Wisely. The large Get of Fenrir snarls loudly as he is seen in the lupine form, yellow eyes glowing brightly. Sniffing the air, he circles around the fallen, chuffing to Calls the Stars. Who is this?

The Wendigo, Kills-Wisely comes quickly through the trees but falls back slightly as Forath-Ripper continues ahead. He starts circling around the injured 'intruder' from a greater distance out, lips pulled back from teeth as he sniffs at the blood in the air.

Star-Caller does not know. The red wolf snorts and scratches her front claws through the dirt again, this time in more frustration than anger. She wonders if anyone recognizes this one? She growls lowly as she paces around to cover one side of the hiker, dark gold eyes fixing on him.

Seth's eyes grow wide as the other wolves arrive and his knuckles turn white around the stick he holds. "Wh-what the fuck is going on?" His voice is unsteady, his face pale, but the bleeding seems to have slowed.

Pacing side to side, Forath Ripper continues to watch the human, sniffing in his direction, then starts over in his direction, opening his jaws wide to reveal the sharp, bright teeth. He leaps forward, but to the side, looking to come around behind him and force him back away from the deeper parts of the bawn. What has he seen?

White Bear's cut a b-line almost right down the bawn as fast he can, the Ahroun arriving later, despite his closer proximity to the southern bawn. He pants for air as he slows his arrival, slipping through the brush to the site of the commotion, the run across the uneven terrain of the bawn leaving him a tad short on breath.

Kills-Wisely quickly surges forward to take the Get's place when he leaps past the human. Leaning forward he shows no fear to the intruder, his muzzle only about a foot away from its shoe. He sniffs deeply at the human, taking in all he can.

Three-Blades is around half a minute behind White Bear, her own lack of real familiarity with the Bawn causing the Gnawer's slight lag. Still, as she catches up to sight the white end of the Ahroun Guardian's tail, she slows down rather. The Gnawer ducks down, her direction swinging off to one side. Only the quiet jangle of the choke chain around her neck betrays her presence audibly.

Star-Caller is not sure. She found him here. He was walking and planned to stay here. Star-Caller flares out the short ruff of fur around her neck, flinging her large ears forward to fix on Seth. She warned him. He would not go. The Uktena leans in and snarls at the hiker, the rest of her fur puffing out.

Seth swings his weapon out at the Get as he passes, but the stick passes only through air. When the Wendigo leans close, though, he gets a firm whack across the nose with branch, the small, sharp bits of wood tearing across his muzzle. "Get away from me!" he shouts, some strength coming back into his voice, as fear drives up his adrenalin level.

I don't recognize that name.

Soon as the human swings away at the Wendigo, the Get has slipped off a bit, putting some distance between the group as he ducks behind a large amount of trees. He takes a moment to make sure the human's back is turned before shifting up into his breed form. Walking a good distance around behind cover, he comes out into view, holding what appears to be a heavy sledgehammer in his hands, jeans torn at the knees, leather jacket covering a heavily scarred upper body. "Who the hell are you?" He calls over with a loud growl in his throat.

Kills-Wisely bites down a yelp from the smack on the nose as his face jerks away he circles back and around to face the intruder once again. He looks up to Brom now incredulously, far too intelligently to appear to be lupine until he catches himself and directs his snarls at the large man.

White Bear lifts his head, baring his clenched teeth as he utters sharp growl-bark at the Get, almost in effect a demand to know what the Get is doing. His hackles rise, prowling around and generally away from the Homid and the hiker.

Three-Blades remains where she is, concealing a fair portion of her smallish body from view as she watches. When Brom appears in Homid, the Ragabash's eyes widen and her ears flatten back. It takes a bit of effort not to make a sound from where she is.

Star-Caller stalks for the fallen Seth and bares her teeth to the gums. If he is no one's kin, kill him. The Philodox snarls and jerks her ear back towards the young man's knapsack. Does anyone know him? She demands again, tired of waiting with this threat on the bawn. She may not be a Sept member, but an intruder is an intruder.

Seth swings his makeshift club again, but the sudden appearance of another stranger grabs his attention. "Wh-what?" He doesn't spare the large man more than a glance, the circling wolves still seeming the larger threat. Another swing of the stick and he reaches around, searching with his fingers for another rock. "Don't just stand there! Help me!"

Snorting at the other's reactions, Brom starts over towards the man, reaching out with a strong hand and yanks away his stick, snapping it with his strong fingers. "I asked you a question. Who the fuck are you? They won't bite unless I tell 'em too. So, you got about five seconds to tell me your entire life story before you have -me- to deal with. You're on private property and we shoot strangers out here. So, lets cut the bullshit and get to the point. Do you got family out here that you are looking for and trying to visit, those of Gaia's blood, or are you just the unlucky guy who walked into the wrong spread of woods?" He asks, blue eyes looming dangerously as invisible hackles rise, blowing out a hard breath into the man's face. "And don't try lying to me. I know when someone is lying."

White Bear turns around, growl raised into a full-fledged snarl from his distance. Thing-Ripper will /not/ kill the ape! he practically barks once more, no uncertainty about that being an order to the Get Philodox.

Kills-Wisely settles for advancing once now on Brom, watching for another stick that may come his way from the stranger. ~Litany!~ he manages out roughly.

Three-Blades sharply perks her ears up at Kills, and cannot hold back her low sigh from behind the tree. Oh man.

Star-Caller lowers her head between her shoulders and fixes her eyes on Seth's prone form. All her senses are focusing in on him; eyes, nose, and ear. Her muzzle twists back and growls at the white wolf. Is he kin? If not, he dies. If he speaks, more will come. If he lives, the Caern is in danger.

Seth holds tight to his only weapon and is half pulled from the ground before it slips from his grip, skin tearing from his palms and renewing the scent of fresh blood in the air. When he falls, he covers his head with his arms, leaning away from the big man defensively. "Jeezus man! Jeezus!" He's too panicky to put together a coherent thought, but through his uneven breaths he manages a few words. "I wa' just hiking. What the fuh? M' Seth. Just. Just, call them off, okay? Just hiking."

Snorting loudly, Brom stares at him, then heads over to his knapsack. "Don't fucking move." He says, eyes glowering over at White Bear and Kills Wisely, his eyes challenging the pair of them defiantly. He goes to pick up the bag, letting out a heavy breath. He is thinking, obviously.

White Bear snarls at the Uktena, cutting her reply somewhere in to the end when he summarily tells her he knows this. He focuses on Brom again: Thing-Ripper will /NOT/ kill the ape! he repeats his order all the more bluntly.

Kills-Wisely is almost at Brom's feet before the Get moves to go to the bag. He then circles back on the hiker. ~Get.~ Is all he growls out now, a forceful and angry sound to the roughly managed mother's tongue.

Three-Blades still doesn't move, her inaction saving her from sight.

Star-Caller has gone quiet as she moves around to the head of the hiker. She positions herself out of arm reach and sits, staring down at him. Why should we not kill him? She snorts out, fur beginning to puff out again.

As the large man moves away, Seth pulls his arms down from their protective positions. Now he fingers the pendant at his neck, alternately grasping it tightly and letting his fingers run around its edge. "These, uh, these yours?" His voice is still rough, his breathing not calm, and the pink in his cheeks from the fear is now fading to white.

"Hey motherfucker, you got a fucking better idea or are you just going to sit there like the useless mutt you are? I don't see either of you fucks /doing anything." Brom says with a snarl, hurling the bag straight at White Bear with one hand, while the other clenches his sledgehammer. "You know what, you fucking deal with it." He says. "I'm not going to do a single thing since you /obviously/ know what the fuck you are doing." He snarls, openly challenging White Bear now as his eyes settle into his. "So go ahead fucker, do your thing. Sit around like a dog and continue to look confused." He ignores Seth now, his shoulders heaving as he /growls/ in the back of his throat.

White Bear turns to stare at Brom, hackles raised as he swells in size. He quivers, teeth bared at the other as his growl becomes uncontrolled. After a moment he steps forward, jaws opened. Thing-ripper will leave the bawn -now-. Thing-Ripper will not return to Hidden Walk Caern until White Bear has talked to Warder.

"I don't think so you fucking dog. Deal with it or shut the fuck up. You can't /order shit/." Brom says with a growl, squeezing the hammer tighter as he advances on White Bear, this time pushing the entire world out.

Kills-Wisely suddenly starts roughly barking as the hiker grasps at the pendant. Drop! He demands with hackles tightening, not letting his eyes part from the human. ~Away Get, or you deal with us all!~ He barks out in unnatural harsh tones.

Three-Blades switches out of her still state, finally appears out of the woods, with a huge raucous non-sensical barking. The choke chain around her neck weaves back and forth as she barks at the other wolves and the Get. No! Don't kill the human! she warns, although to Seth it would seem like any other barking sound. Kill this one and more will come! Let him leave! I will bring him away! It seems like a crazy thing for the Gnawer to say, but she stands there defiantly in the face of /all/ of the other Garou, eyes shifting back and forth.

By this point, the Uktena is livid. Star-Caller howls out a snarl of fury, a demand to be silent as she lurches up to her paws. Never does she take her eyes off the hiker. Who of you can keep the Caern safe and him alive? Tell me if you can. As Three-Blades comes forward, the Philodox jerks her head towards the Ragabash. The red wolf's eyes narrow, but only a moment passes before she barks. Take him. Make sure he does not return. If he does, it is your problem.

Kills-Wisely looks to the Uktena after Three-Blades makes her demand. He makes a demand himself. ~Guardian decides.~

Seth is at once fascinated and afraid. When wolf and man appear to argue, his fingers tighten again around his pendant, but the nearer wolf barking at him causes him to panic further and he tries again to scrabble away, kicking dirt with his good leg, though he only manages to move a pair of inches. Yi's frenzied barking does nothing to ease his discomfort and he just starts to close in on himself.

White Bear doesn't even bother responding to the Get or the Uktena, the Ahroun livid in his own right. In a blaze of a motion the wolf streaks forward, boiling up to the war form to try and draw the blade edge of his spear across the Hiker's neck to slit his throat.

Blood spurts from the young man's neck, spraying from slashed arteries and bubbling as air escapes through the hole in his windpipe. Reflexive movements bring his hands to his throat, but it is a futile gesture that merely coats more of his body in his blood. Rattling, gasping breaths spray more red liquid into the air and onto fur and leaves and ground, as Seth slides downward. Eyes grow cold and sightless. His body grows limp. One hand clutches futilely at the pendant around his neck.

"How fucking hard was that?" Brom says in a snarl as he shifts up into the Crinos form himself, shooting a quick, wild look down towards Kills-Wisely. ~Thou shall not allow a Caern to be violated. Listen to the Uktena, she obviously knows what the fuck she is talking about. You let humans just come and go? Idiots.~ He says, twisting himself around to watch all, taking a step back to put some distance between him and the others.

Three-Blades cuts off her barking at the sight of two turning war form, yelps in surprise, and quickly backs off.

Star-Caller turns and fixes her eyes on Kills-Wisely. She did not see a Guardian here. Where was a Guardian when he came so far? But then, as everyone starts shifting, the Uktena's eyes go as wide as saucers as shock hits her like a ton of bricks. Mad. You are all mad! She howls and whirls away, leaving the man to his fate as she stalks past Three-Blades and off into the trees.

So close to the hiker, a hot spray of blood covers Kills-Wisely's face. He seems stunned for more than a moment, something about him becomes very still. Too still. His eyes look like they are blurring between red and black and his body quivers in place, jaw clenched what looks to be painfully tight as crimson drips from his fur. He is clearly on the edge of frenzy.

White Bear points the still bloodied spear at Brom, hackles raised. ~You mooncalf! You will -not- challenge the leader in a time of war! You will leave the Bawn /now!/And you will -not- return until the Warder says you may!~ The death of the young man seems almost lost on him, so infuriated he is. ~Three-Blades. You. Stay here.~

~ You are not the leader, at all. You are a tribeless dog and you have no fucking voice or council over me /or/ the Get of Fenris~ Forath Ripper says with a loud growl as he points his war hammer at him. ~You need to act like a Garou and not like a dog. Humans do -not- come on the Bawn, or they die. The Caern shall /not/ be violated. It is the Litany. If a human got this far, then you are not doing /your/ job so you are not fit to be a leader. You aren't even fit to have a tribe or act upon your own true birth. You snarled when I spoke to him, you snarled when I did nothing. You sat there, on your ass and did /nothing/. He was bleeding, he was already attacked.~ The Get roars back. ~He would have came back with /more/ to kill the wolves. You are pathetic.~

With no one stopping her, Star-Caller breaks into a full run and leaves the scene, and the Walk Garou, to whatever may happen.

Three-Blades turns her head as the blood sprays. When White Bear tells her to stay where she is, she does so. The Gnawer crouches really low, clearly not intending to get in between the arguing Garou now.

Star-Caller moves through the forest heading south, crossing the railroad.

A low growl starts to come from the ignored Wendigo's throat, building slowly in pitch. He doesn't move, except to shiver, eyes staring empty out into the trees.

~All you say may be true.~ White Bear intones dangerously. ~But I have the authority as war leader of the pack of the Warder, and so I /do/ have voice over you. And you will leave. Now.~

Snorting loudly, Forath Ripper snarls cruelly at the tribeless one. ~I will speak to the Alpha in the morning of this, and make sure that you are removed from not only your post, but perhaps your life for allowing the Sep to be endangered so carelessly because you have the logic of a mutt. No wonder cockroach abandoned you.~ The Get of Fenris says with a snarl, starting off, heading back towards the farmhouse, holding himself proud.

Almost as if he were the cause, or at least the proximity of him and White Bear together, as Brom starts to move away so too does Kills-Wisely begin to calm. When he finally stops shaking he manages the shift to homid, where he looks deeply saddened. "None of us did service to Gaia today. Let him go, Joshua. This is for Seeker and Firewatcher to... do... something." He seems to be deflated after having nothing to really target his rage on, during such a thin moon.

White Bear's teeth creak as they mash into each other, handpaw clenching around the shaft of his spear like he was strangling the Get by proxy. Shaking in place, he growls low as foam gathers at the edges of his muzzle. The Ahroun looks to be holding himself together and away from frenzy, only barely. He turns to Yi, eyes and nostrils flared as he attempts to being rational conversation, but with his rage so close to the surface all he manages to do is growl a whole lot.

Three-Blades flattens all the way down, tail sweeping underneath her at the Guardian's gaze, lips curled back and slightly up in a fear-placating smile of an omega. The Ragabash still remembers her words to White Bear earlier, and looks at his toes rather than his face, almost expecting him to spear her through. This one... she ventures with a quiet whine. This one can make sure the human's death does not bring others here.

Michael kneels now at the body, wondering at that amulet. Prying the human's hands from it, Michael's curiosity takes over his attention.

White Bear grunts something gruff, taking one last moment to press the beast back into place. He gives the Gnawer a silent affirmative. ~I have used man tools to kill him, not claws or teeth, so it may look like another ape killed him. You will take him to the scab and put him in a place where apes are likely to have their necks slit and their things taken.~ He breaths, pointedly not focusing on anything at the moment, just glaring off. ~Leave all his things with him, so when they find him, they may know who he is and they will not search the lands to the south. Are you able to do this?~

Michael reaches down suddenly, and as strange as it is for a Wendigo, he checks for a pulse of any kind at the man's ruined throat.

Three-Blades licks her muzzle lightly, looking briefly to the human corpse, and then back at the Guardian. She chuffs a short, quick and nervous 'yes', but looks at Michael. Please don't touch anything on the two-legs, she requests.

Michael sighs as he reaches around the dead man's neck to take off the chain, ignoring Yi for now. Lifting it up he stands again, resting the amulet in his hand. "Its solid gold. A Wolf's head. The sun behind it. This means something."

White Bear looks sharply over to the Wendigo, staring expectantly at the other Ahroun as if waiting him to finish some sentence.

Three-Blades doesn't move to stop Michael however, daring to rise back up to her paws. It... could mean anything, she notes with a subdued whine. Then, she slowly shifts back to her homid form, and is walking a little closer to the two Garou and the dead. "He could have been kin. Lost kin. But that doesn't matter now. I will get him away from here, and make sure no humans come looking this way."

Michael looks up to White Bear uselessly, then over to Yi. "We keep the amulet. Do what you will with the body. We'll get this to someone who would know what it means."

White Bear grunts at Michael, not bothering to disagree with him. ~Calls-Spirits-to-Battle is at the Caern. He is a spirit howler.~ He offers curt, leaning on his weapon hard. ~Do you know one who knows gift of calling Vermin that belongs to the Omega tribe, Three-Blades?~ He inquires bluntly.

Yi is still looking downwards at Seth, but when she glances back up to Michael about to say something, her attention is diverted back to the Guardian. "If... if you mean the gift that makes a sweet honey smell and calls bug and rat spirits to aid in distracting... yes, I do," she replies quietly. The Gnawer is, however, tensed and wary.

Michael nods and starts off towards the Caern, silent.

Michael moves through the forest, heading north.

~They are vermin, yes? They eat the flesh of dead things, yes?~ He follows up, offering no 'good bye' to Michael as he leaves. He's rather focused Yi at the moment.

Yi looks from corpse to Guardian and back again. "Yes," she answers with a slight nod, "But it will take too long for them to eat the human, and they do not eat the bones. It will still be a danger. I can only take the body far, far away and make sure the humans find it far from the bawn, closer to the city." She looks back up to the Guardian then, but never in a challenging way. "If you will allow me. I must do so quickly, or else it will look more suspicious."

White Bear snorts, shifting down to Lupus; the weapon disappears as he falls to all fours again, coat a little bloody. It does not need to eat the whole ape. The vermin will eat enough so hides the bite from the Uktena when Three-Blades puts in the scab.

Yi sighs quietly, and then simply nods again to the lupus formed Guardian. "I will make sure they do not know it was her, or any of us," she repeats again, shifting her weight rather tensely under the eye of the Ahroun.

White Bear turns to the pack regarding it dumbly for a moment he heads forward a few steps, looking at it with a tired sort of resignation, before shifting back up to Crinos to pick it up. ~Not take pack with you.~ He explains. ~Two Leggers do not use packs in the scab. It would look odd.~ He starts to lumber off the other direction, eastward to the bluff, pack in hand as he leaves Yi to her own.

Yi starts to lift her hand, and takes a step forward. "No White Bear. He must have told someone he was out here in the woods. He needs to look like he died somewhere else, not here. And /with/," she says quickly, "his things."

White Bear stops, turning around to stare at Yi. Leaning on his weapon, he just stands there with a blank look for several moments before responding. ~If they find him in the woods, they will think that he had found a place for making bad poison, and they will search the woods for it, and maybe come into the bawn, no?~ He waits a few more moments, before finishing. ~It does not matter what he tells others. If they find body in the scab, they will not think he arrived in the woods, but died before.~

Yi sucks in a breath and grits her teeth. "Fine," she utters through clenched jaw. "But I must hurry," she notes aloud with a sense of urgency. "I need the human's things to make this trick work," she states plainly, a hand reaching out with palm up. "Please, White Bear. There is no time."

~I do not see why you need the ape's things to make the trick work.~ He replies bluntly, flexing his hand around the weapon shaft as he stares at Yi for a long moment, before the squat Crinos tosses it over to near the Gnawer. ~Do not leave it with the ape in the scab. It would make no sense if it was there, and the others would know something is wrong.~

Yi shakes her head. "I will not leave it with the ape in the scab, of course," she replies.

White Bear grunts a noncommittal, turning as he resumes his pace away from her, this time bending more northward as he returns to the Caern instead.

Yi bows her head once to the departing Guardian, and thus sets to work with the body's disposal, shifting up to Glabro and hefting the body and pack up with her. The Gnawer heads in an opposing direction, away through the dark woods.