05-19-2013, 06:03 PM
The tales and songs end. There is no exact border, no lowered curtain or raising of the house lights; it simply feels like they are over. Kusagra-Kuruk must be able to feel it in his bones. He must feel something in his bones, something prodding him on, something waking his own rage and fury.
A building crescendo begins to take shape in the form of teeth snapping on fur and flesh. The sea of monsters, wolf and human and crinos and hispo, begins to swirl in a whirlpool. In Kusagra-Kuruk's wake, the wolves he bit trying to follow and it leaves a foaming-mouthed moshpit of stoked conflict.
Jack is among them, roused to anger when one Garou slams into his side whilst in pursuit of the growing pack now chasing the Wyrm Foe, after his throat in a domino effect. More an explosive chain reaction. All set off by the Garou who has lit this powder keg. The sideswipe of another Garou's flank almost sends him careening, though his paws sprawl and spread out and he keeps his footing. He has no lingering animosity, no grudges held against these new Septmates, but this certainly gives him one. He rebounds, chasing after the other Garou with an angry snap of his own jaws, unknowing in his indignation that this takes him deeper into the ranks of greater Garou.
Where Kusagra-Kuruk is an artful dodger, between the trunks of Crinos legs and the thicket of homid limbs, Rabid Jack Rabbit is a steaming freight train with little hope of stopping once it's started.
He catches up just in time to witness the Grand Elder and his bellowing roar. This again sends him into a sprawl, and though his body is twisted into the exact stance he should have before a Garou of such rank and status...
Tell that to his rage.
Jack flinches, but rises a moment later, instead bounding into the Garou who had smacked into him. Pummeling her with his paws to try and pin the bitch in place, he is greeted with a bite in return that takes a chunk out of his left ear. He trades bite for bite, leaving her with a bloody set of puncture sounds on the back of her throat to match the welling red crown he is wearing.
He is seeing red in so many ways.
And the howl goes up. Feet beneath him again, slight forgotten, he tears off into the wilderness. Lost in the dark and the overload of sensations. The smell of blood and innards on the wind. The sound of bone cracking and mending through form and Gaia's blessing.
He awakes near Willow Creek, but a trickle, though it's enough to roll around in until his fur is soaked. It comes off in a spray of diluted scarlet. He find his boots where they'd been left and again grows feet to pull into them. And someone says something about pancakes. His only question: "With chocolate chips?"
A building crescendo begins to take shape in the form of teeth snapping on fur and flesh. The sea of monsters, wolf and human and crinos and hispo, begins to swirl in a whirlpool. In Kusagra-Kuruk's wake, the wolves he bit trying to follow and it leaves a foaming-mouthed moshpit of stoked conflict.
Jack is among them, roused to anger when one Garou slams into his side whilst in pursuit of the growing pack now chasing the Wyrm Foe, after his throat in a domino effect. More an explosive chain reaction. All set off by the Garou who has lit this powder keg. The sideswipe of another Garou's flank almost sends him careening, though his paws sprawl and spread out and he keeps his footing. He has no lingering animosity, no grudges held against these new Septmates, but this certainly gives him one. He rebounds, chasing after the other Garou with an angry snap of his own jaws, unknowing in his indignation that this takes him deeper into the ranks of greater Garou.
Where Kusagra-Kuruk is an artful dodger, between the trunks of Crinos legs and the thicket of homid limbs, Rabid Jack Rabbit is a steaming freight train with little hope of stopping once it's started.
He catches up just in time to witness the Grand Elder and his bellowing roar. This again sends him into a sprawl, and though his body is twisted into the exact stance he should have before a Garou of such rank and status...
Tell that to his rage.
Jack flinches, but rises a moment later, instead bounding into the Garou who had smacked into him. Pummeling her with his paws to try and pin the bitch in place, he is greeted with a bite in return that takes a chunk out of his left ear. He trades bite for bite, leaving her with a bloody set of puncture sounds on the back of her throat to match the welling red crown he is wearing.
He is seeing red in so many ways.
And the howl goes up. Feet beneath him again, slight forgotten, he tears off into the wilderness. Lost in the dark and the overload of sensations. The smell of blood and innards on the wind. The sound of bone cracking and mending through form and Gaia's blessing.
He awakes near Willow Creek, but a trickle, though it's enough to roll around in until his fur is soaked. It comes off in a spray of diluted scarlet. He find his boots where they'd been left and again grows feet to pull into them. And someone says something about pancakes. His only question: "With chocolate chips?"