The Scourge had insisted they see a Theurge, and one was tracked down (likely by the connected nature of Glass Walkers with modern technology). By the time they found her the effects of his wards against pain had worn off and he was sweating and gritting teeth and favoring his left side, but otherwise not making a show of it. He seemed to be patiently waiting for the opportunity to lay low in wolfskin and heal up. The Theurge may have offered to help heal him further, or perhaps they didn't. Whether in better health or not, The Scourge followed the mission through and brought the box back to the park to present to the Ghost Wolf.
Open it! the wolf had urged.
The Scourge held the box balanced on the broad flat palm of one hand, held it out for one of the other two Garou to pull the lid open.
Inside: a mystical satchel, a knife that sought out thieves, and a gemstone of yet-undiscovered gifts.
The Scourge seemed less concerned with the bounty in tangible ways, but more wrapped up in the courtesy of the Ghost Wolf who was presenting it to them. He was dead, thankful that they recovered the loot from non-Gaian hands, and now able to rest. The Shadow Lord was gracious and expressed that the treasures would be well cared for. He did no sort of inspection or divvying or claiming until the Wolf had moved on.
When that time had come, Rafael muttered a verse from the Litany in the Adren's direction. The weathered looking Galliard smiled through a grimace of pain. He couldn't be older than 35, but for a Wartime Garou that may as well be 65. It was apparent that the gesture of respect was appreciated (as opposed to simply expected).
Blunt fingers, still crusty with dried blood (almost exclusively his own) plucked the gem from the box. He would leave the satchel and knife for the Glass Walker and Silver Fang to decide upon themselves.
Open it! the wolf had urged.
The Scourge held the box balanced on the broad flat palm of one hand, held it out for one of the other two Garou to pull the lid open.
Inside: a mystical satchel, a knife that sought out thieves, and a gemstone of yet-undiscovered gifts.
The Scourge seemed less concerned with the bounty in tangible ways, but more wrapped up in the courtesy of the Ghost Wolf who was presenting it to them. He was dead, thankful that they recovered the loot from non-Gaian hands, and now able to rest. The Shadow Lord was gracious and expressed that the treasures would be well cared for. He did no sort of inspection or divvying or claiming until the Wolf had moved on.
When that time had come, Rafael muttered a verse from the Litany in the Adren's direction. The weathered looking Galliard smiled through a grimace of pain. He couldn't be older than 35, but for a Wartime Garou that may as well be 65. It was apparent that the gesture of respect was appreciated (as opposed to simply expected).
Blunt fingers, still crusty with dried blood (almost exclusively his own) plucked the gem from the box. He would leave the satchel and knife for the Glass Walker and Silver Fang to decide upon themselves.