02-16-2014, 09:46 AM
At some point, the jawbone will fall back into the giant white paws of the Newcomer.
In the time that the bone has circulated to new wolves who would speak their pieces, he has remained in his Crinos body. This is something that the wolves around him can guess that they probably ought to get used to-- all Wolves had their preferences, and this was the Forseti's. He'd returned to a crouching half-sit on the packed earth while listening, ears alert and forward, observing what was said.
When Erich addressed him directly, the wolf's pale eyes narrowed and displeasure etched itself into his body language, but the Get of Fenris's Rage was not a terrible furnace. Despite the pull of the full moon above, his temper was not stoked by the challenge in the Shadow Lord (blood-traitor/but-why-do-you-care?). He just snorted and gave time for others to speak. He didn't jump to defend himself.
When his time came, though, the burly pale-furred Garou grasped the jawbone delicately in killing claws and stood on feet and knuckles as he spoke.
"I introduced myself last time, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to refresh memories."
A pause, significant, a flat stare at Erich, before his eyes moved away from the Shadow Lord and he continued on.
"I am Final Word. Cliath Philodox of the Get of Fenris. I am... very new to the area. I simply was not aware that this discredited my interpretation of The Litany or my place to do so any at all.
"I'm not trying to give advice on how to manage Beloved Horror. I'm not trying to suggest tactics for capturing and utilizing the power of the Pit, or shutting it down completely. I'm not saying that I know what is best for this city and its people."
Another pause. Just as flat. For how passionate and rousing he had been when he'd spoken last, he was significantly more level now. It seems Avery's speech had done its job (he had flicked his ears back and looked the tiniest bit ashamed for a moment when she'd expressed that they were here not to rally a mob, but to have discussions), and he was speaking simply now. Like an analyst rather than a leader. A subject matter expert, if you will.
"The Litany, however, is always what is best. Because without these laws we would be nothing. I shouldn't have to say this, but sometimes we need reminding." The massive paw that was helping support his weight, knuckles dark with dirt, raised from the ground long enough to wave away an argument that didn't have a chance to be formed against him just yet, thanks to the power and the effect of the cracked bone and the traditions that dictated how these discussions would be had. "There are laws written around the Leader, multiple ones, because the Leader is necessary. The Leader is necessary to Cold Crescent just as it is to Forgotten Questions.
"To ask the Great Alpha-rhya to split his devotion and duties between two Septs is to take a risk. A risk in a time wheIf the Sen all that I hear is 'Beloved Hororr' and 'The Pits' and every story is about how terrible and unknown and deadly both these subjects are. Each Sept should be protected and managed at the highest efficiency possible-- here, to keep the Caern protected, for this is what matters most. There--" he gestures toward the city with the jaw bone, indicating Cold Crescent -- "to keep the Pit in check and Beloved Horror from accessing it again."
He's petered himself out. He can feel himself dragging on. He can tell that those gathered are waiting for him to finish so that they can have their turn. So, he rolls his heavy shoulder and wraps up.
"If the Cold Crescent will ever have a Leader, then it will certainly need one now."
And the lion's jaw is relinquished.
In the time that the bone has circulated to new wolves who would speak their pieces, he has remained in his Crinos body. This is something that the wolves around him can guess that they probably ought to get used to-- all Wolves had their preferences, and this was the Forseti's. He'd returned to a crouching half-sit on the packed earth while listening, ears alert and forward, observing what was said.
When Erich addressed him directly, the wolf's pale eyes narrowed and displeasure etched itself into his body language, but the Get of Fenris's Rage was not a terrible furnace. Despite the pull of the full moon above, his temper was not stoked by the challenge in the Shadow Lord (blood-traitor/but-why-do-you-care?). He just snorted and gave time for others to speak. He didn't jump to defend himself.
When his time came, though, the burly pale-furred Garou grasped the jawbone delicately in killing claws and stood on feet and knuckles as he spoke.
"I introduced myself last time, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to refresh memories."
A pause, significant, a flat stare at Erich, before his eyes moved away from the Shadow Lord and he continued on.
"I am Final Word. Cliath Philodox of the Get of Fenris. I am... very new to the area. I simply was not aware that this discredited my interpretation of The Litany or my place to do so any at all.
"I'm not trying to give advice on how to manage Beloved Horror. I'm not trying to suggest tactics for capturing and utilizing the power of the Pit, or shutting it down completely. I'm not saying that I know what is best for this city and its people."
Another pause. Just as flat. For how passionate and rousing he had been when he'd spoken last, he was significantly more level now. It seems Avery's speech had done its job (he had flicked his ears back and looked the tiniest bit ashamed for a moment when she'd expressed that they were here not to rally a mob, but to have discussions), and he was speaking simply now. Like an analyst rather than a leader. A subject matter expert, if you will.
"The Litany, however, is always what is best. Because without these laws we would be nothing. I shouldn't have to say this, but sometimes we need reminding." The massive paw that was helping support his weight, knuckles dark with dirt, raised from the ground long enough to wave away an argument that didn't have a chance to be formed against him just yet, thanks to the power and the effect of the cracked bone and the traditions that dictated how these discussions would be had. "There are laws written around the Leader, multiple ones, because the Leader is necessary. The Leader is necessary to Cold Crescent just as it is to Forgotten Questions.
"To ask the Great Alpha-rhya to split his devotion and duties between two Septs is to take a risk. A risk in a time wheIf the Sen all that I hear is 'Beloved Hororr' and 'The Pits' and every story is about how terrible and unknown and deadly both these subjects are. Each Sept should be protected and managed at the highest efficiency possible-- here, to keep the Caern protected, for this is what matters most. There--" he gestures toward the city with the jaw bone, indicating Cold Crescent -- "to keep the Pit in check and Beloved Horror from accessing it again."
He's petered himself out. He can feel himself dragging on. He can tell that those gathered are waiting for him to finish so that they can have their turn. So, he rolls his heavy shoulder and wraps up.
"If the Cold Crescent will ever have a Leader, then it will certainly need one now."
And the lion's jaw is relinquished.