She's been here since well before the sun starts to sink below the horizon, preparing. It began with meditation…clearing her mind and body of negative energies. Slow breaths in taking in the cleansing air of the Wyld, slow breaths out expelling all the remnants of everything negative that she's accumulated over the past month. Keisha normally goes with something simple and natural for her style of dress in moots and comes largely unadorned. This month is different; she's stripped down to her dedicated set of clothing, a grey matching set of loose-fitting pants and a sports bra. The other big changes in her dress are twofold; first is that her hair, usually tied back, is left free. The dark dreadlocks spill over her shoulders, down her back and a few in front, to fall where they may. It's wild and free, a style and an attitude that the ahimsa doesn't often allow herself to be. Tonight, she does.
The second is that she is decked out in more jewelry than usual. It isn't for vanity's sake; the stones are assembled aesthetically but also for spiritual reasons. Around her wrists are brass bracelets (a cleansing metal) with amethysts set within, the stones intended to convert negativity into positivity in connection with her heart chakra. Around her neck on a small leather cord, just long enough that it rests at the top of her throat and connects with her throat chakra, a small polished piece of amber for clarity and confidence. On her brow is a small iron circlet; iron is the heart of the Earth and the universe. As above, so below...it's a metal that aids in shamanic travel. The circlet is set with hematite and quartz for concentration and healing. She's dedicated them to her, so they will come across the Gauntlet and grant her strength for the rite. None of it is ornate or ostentatious; it's functional. The stones align sympathetically with her spiritual energy and ground her to the earth, the elemental to whom the Caern is dedicated. She's lucky that her aunt and uncle own a new age shop, or it would have likely been beyond her means.
And so she sits from early in the morning, on a large triangular rock deep within the park that some have given a name to; it's secluded, away from the others. The perfect spot for her to go through the slow and methodical process to find her balance and cleanse her spirit and mind. It's approaching evening by the time she's ready, and she opens her eyes. She's at peace and ready to begin. The true beginning won't start until after the sky has begun to darken and the humans have been shooed away, but there are still things to do. The mocha-skinned woman rises and climbs off the stone, murmurs a quiet and heartfelt thank you for holding her for a time, and sets herself to finding a spot for the gathering.
They come, in their many forms, once the dark has begun to set in and after the grounds have been divested of the last of humanity. They drive, they run on four legs, they race through the Umbra in War Form. They come together in packs, they travel in pairs of friendship, they make their way alone. Many paths, many methods, but one purpose. That's the way of the Garou Nation. Moots are more than just a monthly meeting for Keisha; they're affirmation. Despite all the infighting, the warring, the betrayals and the prejudice…on this night, they come together and unite as one. It is her duty—no, her honor—to give a voice to that unity this month and to take the first steps.
Last month when her alpha Siren of Persephone held sway over the Opening Howl, it began with song. It was the same when Raspberry Sky did so two months before that. Keisha has her talents, but singing is not one of them. Instead of those Theurges' melodies, it is a chant that brings them together. Still Waters begins low, reverential, nearly a whisper and certainly no one hears it then, except perhaps her packmates who hear it through the connection they share from Themis and those few Garou who have found her in a small clearing amidst the trees and towered over by the sandstone formations. They do not hear, except perhaps that the words are sacred ones, calling to the spirits…the Celestines, the Incarnae of each of the Tribes, the great elemental who has lived and remembered everything that ever is and was. She calls to them…supplicating, honoring, revering. As her voice builds in volume and power, celebration is added to that tone. And then exultation, revelry. Always honoring, always joyful.
Some may join in with the chant; it is easy enough to do so. Some may choose not to. Still Waters makes no indication one way or another; that is their choice. She continues the chant until all are gathered, keeping the ascent slow but ever-building. Finally, when everyone has arrived, she spreads her arms in gesture to them and steps back, sliding through the Gauntlet into the Penumbra. Only echoes of her voice remain to bounce off the rocks and trees.
And they follow, into the velvet shadow.
This side of the Gauntlet is alive, bursting. As soon as Still Waters has made the crossing she melts up into her Crinos form, switching her chant seamlessly into the High Tongue. There has been much work by the Garou of Denver in calming and soothing the spirits following the terrible turn of events at Cold Crescent, and it has not been in vain; the ephemeral entities that have found sanctuary within the Caern are here, watching. The daughter of Unicorn and lady of Themis, proud member of the Desert Oracles continues until the Garou are all here, gathered into their factions, their packs, their Tribes, their ranks, perhaps by other divisions. Many roads, one path.
And finally, when it's time, she lets her Gnosis, her spiritual life force, gather together, collect at her heart chakra where amethyst focuses. It pushes up to her throat chakra, where amber imbues it with clarity. And she lets it go in a single, powerful burst.
She howls.
Samael @ 1:56PM
[[Moot Rite: Int+Rituals, w/WP spent]]
Roll: 6 d10 TN7 (1, 1, 4, 7, 7, 10) ( success x 4 ) [WP] VALID
niko @ 1:56PM
Witnessed@
The second is that she is decked out in more jewelry than usual. It isn't for vanity's sake; the stones are assembled aesthetically but also for spiritual reasons. Around her wrists are brass bracelets (a cleansing metal) with amethysts set within, the stones intended to convert negativity into positivity in connection with her heart chakra. Around her neck on a small leather cord, just long enough that it rests at the top of her throat and connects with her throat chakra, a small polished piece of amber for clarity and confidence. On her brow is a small iron circlet; iron is the heart of the Earth and the universe. As above, so below...it's a metal that aids in shamanic travel. The circlet is set with hematite and quartz for concentration and healing. She's dedicated them to her, so they will come across the Gauntlet and grant her strength for the rite. None of it is ornate or ostentatious; it's functional. The stones align sympathetically with her spiritual energy and ground her to the earth, the elemental to whom the Caern is dedicated. She's lucky that her aunt and uncle own a new age shop, or it would have likely been beyond her means.
And so she sits from early in the morning, on a large triangular rock deep within the park that some have given a name to; it's secluded, away from the others. The perfect spot for her to go through the slow and methodical process to find her balance and cleanse her spirit and mind. It's approaching evening by the time she's ready, and she opens her eyes. She's at peace and ready to begin. The true beginning won't start until after the sky has begun to darken and the humans have been shooed away, but there are still things to do. The mocha-skinned woman rises and climbs off the stone, murmurs a quiet and heartfelt thank you for holding her for a time, and sets herself to finding a spot for the gathering.
They come, in their many forms, once the dark has begun to set in and after the grounds have been divested of the last of humanity. They drive, they run on four legs, they race through the Umbra in War Form. They come together in packs, they travel in pairs of friendship, they make their way alone. Many paths, many methods, but one purpose. That's the way of the Garou Nation. Moots are more than just a monthly meeting for Keisha; they're affirmation. Despite all the infighting, the warring, the betrayals and the prejudice…on this night, they come together and unite as one. It is her duty—no, her honor—to give a voice to that unity this month and to take the first steps.
Last month when her alpha Siren of Persephone held sway over the Opening Howl, it began with song. It was the same when Raspberry Sky did so two months before that. Keisha has her talents, but singing is not one of them. Instead of those Theurges' melodies, it is a chant that brings them together. Still Waters begins low, reverential, nearly a whisper and certainly no one hears it then, except perhaps her packmates who hear it through the connection they share from Themis and those few Garou who have found her in a small clearing amidst the trees and towered over by the sandstone formations. They do not hear, except perhaps that the words are sacred ones, calling to the spirits…the Celestines, the Incarnae of each of the Tribes, the great elemental who has lived and remembered everything that ever is and was. She calls to them…supplicating, honoring, revering. As her voice builds in volume and power, celebration is added to that tone. And then exultation, revelry. Always honoring, always joyful.
Some may join in with the chant; it is easy enough to do so. Some may choose not to. Still Waters makes no indication one way or another; that is their choice. She continues the chant until all are gathered, keeping the ascent slow but ever-building. Finally, when everyone has arrived, she spreads her arms in gesture to them and steps back, sliding through the Gauntlet into the Penumbra. Only echoes of her voice remain to bounce off the rocks and trees.
And they follow, into the velvet shadow.
This side of the Gauntlet is alive, bursting. As soon as Still Waters has made the crossing she melts up into her Crinos form, switching her chant seamlessly into the High Tongue. There has been much work by the Garou of Denver in calming and soothing the spirits following the terrible turn of events at Cold Crescent, and it has not been in vain; the ephemeral entities that have found sanctuary within the Caern are here, watching. The daughter of Unicorn and lady of Themis, proud member of the Desert Oracles continues until the Garou are all here, gathered into their factions, their packs, their Tribes, their ranks, perhaps by other divisions. Many roads, one path.
And finally, when it's time, she lets her Gnosis, her spiritual life force, gather together, collect at her heart chakra where amethyst focuses. It pushes up to her throat chakra, where amber imbues it with clarity. And she lets it go in a single, powerful burst.
She howls.
Samael @ 1:56PM
[[Moot Rite: Int+Rituals, w/WP spent]]
Roll: 6 d10 TN7 (1, 1, 4, 7, 7, 10) ( success x 4 ) [WP] VALID
niko @ 1:56PM
Witnessed@
"The anger of a good man is not a problem. Good men have too many rules."
"Good men don't need rules. And today's not the day to find out why I have so many."
"Good men don't need rules. And today's not the day to find out why I have so many."