11-09-2014, 10:55 AM
[[ Sorry you guys! I get really busy during my weeks with my kiddlet. I sat here trying to think of the very best way to finish this and frankly the forums probably aren't gonna be great for this conclusion-- especially since I'm hoping to finish this with minimal dicing if possible (which means that plenty of OOC understanding and cooperation will be required
Let's figure a date to try and get together and get this finished. I, personally, can make most evenings this upcoming week, provided it's around/after 6pm site time. The weekend opens my availability up a lot more.
In the meantime, here's a post! ]]
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Dust was all that stirred in the air-- motes disturbed by the ruffle of Hispo-wolf fur and the deep bassy notes of growls and rumbles as the makeshift pack deliberated their next move.
The stairs managed to miraculously hold them up when they'd ascended from the basement-- perhaps the war forms tore up after the enemies with such righteousness that Gaia saw fit to carry them over the stairs, to help brace them to support her children for that time.
The stairs headed upstairs, though, to the second flight? They were narrow and curved their way up along the wall near the front of the house. Didn't appear to be supported by nearly so much as rotting old beams braced against the wall. The rot in the wood could be smelled even by seasonally stuffy human noses-- Erich was right, they wouldn't support them.
He recommended that they bust through the floor, and the Philodox leveled that with a point-- the house could fall down if they started busting even more holes in the structure. The Fianna had been good to let the pair of Fosterns lead up to this point-- even the Ragabash, who temporarily had much of her face scalded away by bile-acid by the decisions made, wasn't being argumentative or contrary.
Goldie had whuffed an affirmative to Firebrand when bumped into, inquired if she was okay. She'd have time to process the terrifying sensation of having your skin melted off and regrown again later, for now the Ragabash was still running on the adrenaline that may as well be a drip feed in any Garou's life. She was still in Crinos, and lifted her big head toward the ceiling to peer upstairs.
You don't catch ghosts with teeth.
She whuffed the obvious, but the message was more than the statement alone-- this was a tracking sort of hunt, not a charge and barrel kind. A big pink tongue swiped over her dark snout, and she looked back at the others and explained:
Might not even be here. Saw her leave the house when I was scouting. Can search? Stake out for her return if she's not here?
Let's figure a date to try and get together and get this finished. I, personally, can make most evenings this upcoming week, provided it's around/after 6pm site time. The weekend opens my availability up a lot more.
In the meantime, here's a post! ]]
--------------------------------
Dust was all that stirred in the air-- motes disturbed by the ruffle of Hispo-wolf fur and the deep bassy notes of growls and rumbles as the makeshift pack deliberated their next move.
The stairs managed to miraculously hold them up when they'd ascended from the basement-- perhaps the war forms tore up after the enemies with such righteousness that Gaia saw fit to carry them over the stairs, to help brace them to support her children for that time.
The stairs headed upstairs, though, to the second flight? They were narrow and curved their way up along the wall near the front of the house. Didn't appear to be supported by nearly so much as rotting old beams braced against the wall. The rot in the wood could be smelled even by seasonally stuffy human noses-- Erich was right, they wouldn't support them.
He recommended that they bust through the floor, and the Philodox leveled that with a point-- the house could fall down if they started busting even more holes in the structure. The Fianna had been good to let the pair of Fosterns lead up to this point-- even the Ragabash, who temporarily had much of her face scalded away by bile-acid by the decisions made, wasn't being argumentative or contrary.
Goldie had whuffed an affirmative to Firebrand when bumped into, inquired if she was okay. She'd have time to process the terrifying sensation of having your skin melted off and regrown again later, for now the Ragabash was still running on the adrenaline that may as well be a drip feed in any Garou's life. She was still in Crinos, and lifted her big head toward the ceiling to peer upstairs.
You don't catch ghosts with teeth.
She whuffed the obvious, but the message was more than the statement alone-- this was a tracking sort of hunt, not a charge and barrel kind. A big pink tongue swiped over her dark snout, and she looked back at the others and explained:
Might not even be here. Saw her leave the house when I was scouting. Can search? Stake out for her return if she's not here?