08-21-2013, 10:31 AM
Ingrid's Question was put to the gathered Garou of both septs. Though only a few replied, the point she had been hoping to get across has been gotten across. At least in this way, perhaps, the Garou of the city won't be caught unawares when a handful of Cliaths and maybe a few Fosterns come 'round asking questions, looking for a Who and not a What.
The Ragabash inclines her head to the gathered, but before she relinquishes the sacred bone, she says, "That was my Question. I have something else to say.
"As many of you know, it was Still Waters-yuf, Thunder's Cry-yuf, and I who found and returned Champion of Honor-yuf to the city. It was we that brought what may have been a Trojan Horse into the heart of Cold Crescent." There, just there, the voice of a Garou already known to be calm, composed, untouchable, it falters at the memory of the desecration, the corruption, the bloody horrors witnessed that night. Her two-handed grip on the bone tightens and her eyes close a moment. When they open again, Ingrid has straightened her shoulders. She has stiffened her spine.
"I will understand if there are those among you who feel that we," always we, she and Thomas may have been late additions, but it was their choice to follow Still Waters to what could very well have been their doom, "bear some blame in the calamity that befell the city. I often wonder the same." A brief pause as her eyes scan the crowd, looking for Keisha (Do you?) and Thomas (Do you?) if she finds him. "I ask that you find it in your hearts to forgive us. And I vow that I will do all that I can to make amends."
Edited to add: "Cold Crescent needs Guardians, or perhaps just guardians. Wolves dedicated to the task of holding the line, or perhaps packs of wolves united in a single purpose. Together, but divided, so that such a thing as happened at the New Moon, Gaia permitting, doesn't happen again. I offer my services to any such endeavor, and hope that in this way, and through my dedication to Earth and to this city, I may make my amends."
She doesn't know the Rite of Contrition (surprisingly, what the eff, Niko). If she did, she might fall on it now. Instead, she returns the bone to Reverence of Dawn before turning to the Garou of Forgotten Questions and those that represent Cold Crescent tonight. She drops down to her knees and bows her head to them, a human gesture of submission and supplication from a creature who feels more animal than most. After a moment she rises again, and makes her way quietly back through the crowd.
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Phoebe, sitting with her sisters of Desert Oracle, grips Keisha's shoulder a briefly after she spoke up in answer to the Question. Then she rises to carefully pick a path to the Truthcatcher.
"Hi," she says with a bright smile. Even if she weren't holding the cracked bone attention would be drawn to her, captivated by her voice and by her appearance and her stature. "On behalf of my packsisters and myself, I'd like to make it known that we'll do all that we can to investigate the power surge of the Beloved Horror. I've heard that they enjoy...particular acts of desecration. In particular, the eating of their victims' hearts. There are a few cultures around the world that believe the consumption of the flesh of an enemy will imbue the, ah, consumer...with certain strengths. It might be a stretch, but maybe these Dancers have found some way of making that actually happen.
"I would like it very much if my sisters and I could speak with a Theurge of the Wendigo or Uktena tribes, maybe bounce some ideas back and forth."
The bone is returned, and so the Black Fury, too, returns to her seat.
The Ragabash inclines her head to the gathered, but before she relinquishes the sacred bone, she says, "That was my Question. I have something else to say.
"As many of you know, it was Still Waters-yuf, Thunder's Cry-yuf, and I who found and returned Champion of Honor-yuf to the city. It was we that brought what may have been a Trojan Horse into the heart of Cold Crescent." There, just there, the voice of a Garou already known to be calm, composed, untouchable, it falters at the memory of the desecration, the corruption, the bloody horrors witnessed that night. Her two-handed grip on the bone tightens and her eyes close a moment. When they open again, Ingrid has straightened her shoulders. She has stiffened her spine.
"I will understand if there are those among you who feel that we," always we, she and Thomas may have been late additions, but it was their choice to follow Still Waters to what could very well have been their doom, "bear some blame in the calamity that befell the city. I often wonder the same." A brief pause as her eyes scan the crowd, looking for Keisha (Do you?) and Thomas (Do you?) if she finds him. "I ask that you find it in your hearts to forgive us. And I vow that I will do all that I can to make amends."
Edited to add: "Cold Crescent needs Guardians, or perhaps just guardians. Wolves dedicated to the task of holding the line, or perhaps packs of wolves united in a single purpose. Together, but divided, so that such a thing as happened at the New Moon, Gaia permitting, doesn't happen again. I offer my services to any such endeavor, and hope that in this way, and through my dedication to Earth and to this city, I may make my amends."
She doesn't know the Rite of Contrition (surprisingly, what the eff, Niko). If she did, she might fall on it now. Instead, she returns the bone to Reverence of Dawn before turning to the Garou of Forgotten Questions and those that represent Cold Crescent tonight. She drops down to her knees and bows her head to them, a human gesture of submission and supplication from a creature who feels more animal than most. After a moment she rises again, and makes her way quietly back through the crowd.
=========
Phoebe, sitting with her sisters of Desert Oracle, grips Keisha's shoulder a briefly after she spoke up in answer to the Question. Then she rises to carefully pick a path to the Truthcatcher.
"Hi," she says with a bright smile. Even if she weren't holding the cracked bone attention would be drawn to her, captivated by her voice and by her appearance and her stature. "On behalf of my packsisters and myself, I'd like to make it known that we'll do all that we can to investigate the power surge of the Beloved Horror. I've heard that they enjoy...particular acts of desecration. In particular, the eating of their victims' hearts. There are a few cultures around the world that believe the consumption of the flesh of an enemy will imbue the, ah, consumer...with certain strengths. It might be a stretch, but maybe these Dancers have found some way of making that actually happen.
"I would like it very much if my sisters and I could speak with a Theurge of the Wendigo or Uktena tribes, maybe bounce some ideas back and forth."
The bone is returned, and so the Black Fury, too, returns to her seat.