October: Opening Howl / Inner Sky

[kai]

[Take it away, Winona!]

[CourtCat]

Winona is a product of two Tribes. In physical appearance, she's far more reminiscent of her Uktena roots than she is of those that bind her to Falcon. So the asymetrical, nearly ground length, white silk sheath she wears in her human form sets out the black hair that's free and twined through with feathers and beads, the coppery-dark skin that marks her as native as anyone on New World soil can be. She arrives and stands, stoic and quiet, facing east, from whence comes sun, light, and life. Her eyes close and stay so, and she's so very still that she might be mistaken for a statue to those who first arrive.

History is honored here, and culture, too, even as recent tensions and events are released into the ground beneath her through the soles of her bare feet, the tips of her fingers, and anyone paying attention and feel how Gaia approves, how the Caern responds to the bastard child of the Silver Fangs.

It's with no small bit of drama that she ripples down into her lupus form; her fur is mostly black, though her back and flanks are mottled with a coppery color that's similar to the hue of her homid-skin, with the occasional bit of pure white that matches a diamond shaped patch on her forehead, between her eyes. The howl starts low, almost a growl, and crescendos from reserves the small-ish female wolf doesn't look like she has. She howls passion and loss, birth and death, renewal and release and it echoes through the Caern, through the bawn, drawing spirits of pack totems and so much more. It is, as howls go, everything a howl should be . . . but there's more.

Still facing east, she resumes her birth form and begins speaking. "We have gathered in this sacred place of Gaia, having called our brothers and sisters of Gaia, and we now call our brothers and sisters of Luna. East Wind! Bringer of the dawn of clear air! East Wind! You who showed us the mirror side, the other side of the Velvet Curtain, come to us! We thank you for your clear thought and bright light."

After a turn to face south, she continues, "South Wind! Bringer of the eternal fire! South Wind! You who gave us the fire of rage within, that we may strike swiftly against our enemies, come to us! We thank you for your fiery anger and your guardian protection!"

And then, facing west, "West Wind! Bringer of the rain! West Wind! You who gave us the Changing Ways, come to us! We thank you for the many shapes you’ve shared with us!"

North: "North Wind! Bringer of cold from the mountain! North Wind! You who brought us the Gifts and the Sacred Ways, come to us! We thank you for your great wisdom and great strength!"

And last, but not least, she curls down to the ground and holds her hands, fingers splayed, parallel to the earth's surface. "Inner Wind! Bringer of blessings from Gaia, from within us! You who hold our Mother’s power within us, come to us all! We thank you for your spirit, and your inner peace."

In a time of war, it's good to have a reminder of what they're fighting for, of the sacred and serene strength that Gaia and Luna grants even those who haven't yet learned to find it. And with that, Over Sea, Under Stone has completed her ritual.

The moot is open.

CourtCat @ 10:33AM
[Moot Rite, ho! Int + Rit + WP cos dice don't like Winona.]
Roll: 6 d10 TN7 (3, 3, 7, 9, 9, 9) ( success x 5 ) [WP] VALID
niko @ 10:33AM
Damn girl
niko @ 10:33AM
I mean WITNESSED
CourtCat @ 11:21AM
[Charisma + non-existent Expression/Performance + WP cos dice, Magnetic specialty]
Roll: 4 d10 TN6 (6, 6, 9, 9) ( success x 5 ) [WP] VALID
Samael @ 11:23AM
DAYUM
Samael @ 11:23AM
And witnessed!

[errin]

Winona stands before the multitude of Denver's Garou, gathered together to share information and celebrate Gaia and revel in Luna's grace. Out in that crowd, her sisters are gathered, watching.

A little ahead of their small cluster, their Alpha stands in lupus, her fur pure black and unbroken but for the line that runs from her right shoulder across her side. Siren of Persephone stands tall on four legs, her body leaned forward, still but not stone-like. She is no obsidian statue. The other Oracles feel it most, that Phoebe practically vibrates with excitement, with an eagerness for the proceedings, with affection for her sister.

She stands that way until Erich and Charlotte find them, drawn perhaps by the odd mix of breeding - Sophia a shining beacon of Falcon, Phoebe a considerably dimmer glow of Pegasus' blood. When Volcano's children arrive Phoebe looks over to the Ahroun and the Theurge, ears pricked forward. She gives a warm whuff of greeting and sidles closer, drawing her pack with her so that all can see. Despite the tension at the warmoot, Desert Oracle and Baklava Republik stand together, united.

Winona shifts, lifts her muzzle, and a chorus of howls joins her voice. Siren's voice wends and weaves, finding harmonies and shifting, accidental melodies.

=====

The haphazard looking duo that is Stone Cold is there, as well, the tall lean Glass Walker beside the small, lithe Shadow Lord. Ingrid's howl isn't much to speak of, but she lifts it gladly, pleased to be in the presence of these many wolves and to stand beside her Alpha.

[Umbralwind]

Sophia's howl joined with her pack, the power and beauty of her tribe revealed in the way she simply throws herself into the howl without the slightest care in the world!

------------------------------------------------------------

Inversely to Sophia was Milton's howl, which seemed awkward and uncomfortable. Oh he howled alright, and to the best of his ability, just his abilities as a wolf were not nearly as great as many others!

[Samael]

Keisha arrives with Phoebe and Sophia, ecstatic to see Winona standing where she did two months previous and Phoebe the month before that. Where the Black Fury is in lupus, Keisha starts the moot in Homid as always, her staff in her right hand and a simple, long white dress her only adornment. Her shoes were left back at the car. Phoebe's vibrations of exultations are met by the warm glow of Keisha's own love for her packsisters, with an edge of anticipation for the howl to come.

When the two members of the Baklava Republik show, Keisha smoothly moves with Phoebe to stand by the other pack. No one would ever accuse the ahimsa of being anything but peace-seeking and when the opportunity is made to show how the two packs that so recently came at odds stand tall together, she is only too happy to do her part. A warm smile is offered to both Ahroun and Theurge as she stands with them and finally, when it is time, she rises up into her Crinos form and joins her own keening howl to the chorus.

==================

Javed, of course, is also there. He comes with Avery, the two of them arriving together as they are often found. The one-eyed (and even that one defective) metis wears the same clothes as ever, though noticeably he is missing his jacket that he is usually seen with, despite the cooler temperature that the autumn brings. As is normal for the Ahround he doesn't approach anyone and greet them, not as a slight but as an inability. Instead he greets whoever Avery may say hello to for them.

Once the Moot Rite begins he shifts immediately into his breed form and lowers to a slight crouch, waiting for the right moment. Much like his normal voice, his howl has a bit of a rasp to it, some grit that dirties the piercing tone. It doesn't make the howl any less strong though and as he straightens and raises his muzzle to the heavens, his voice echoes along with the other Garou present as one.

[Damon]

Erich Storm's Teeth wears his wolfskin tonight, a big dappled-grey wolf gamboling about on large paws. He mock-races with his packmate on the way here, sometimes surging ahead and sometimes falling behind, sometimes getting sidetracked sniffing some late-season wildflower or other not yet succumbed to the encroaching winter.

Eventually they make it to the appointed spot. Seeing Phoebe and her crew heading over, he gives a little hop on his forelegs, playbowing, romping around them in a close circle before the first of the howls turn his ears and his attention.

Erich-wolf settles a little, then. He sits near Desert Oracle, with shoulder and haunch pressed warmly to Charlotte-wolf. Ears pricked, eyes bright. And when the time comes, the howl that swells in his breast and bursts from his throat is warm, earnest, joyous and full.

[kai]

There are many reasons why Javed and Avery formed a pack together, though the two Fosterns always look a bit odd as a pair. She's incandescent, and he is not. She is fair and bright and charming, and these are not traits he shares with her (though she, in fact, would argue this). They do not speak to each other in their thoughts, and she is not rattling off to him the names and identities of people that they pass by in his mind. But as they enter the gathering place that they have been called to, she finds those she knows. She says hello to some, greeting them by name. Others she merely acknowledges with a nod. A couple she actually bumps up against, a wordless and animal hello.

There is one wolf there who Avery just grabs in an embrace. It's a young guardian, a Cliath named Bright Spear, who Avery grabs and squeezes as soon as she sees her, introducing her to Javed, telling him what seems to be only the in-person introduction of someone she's told him all about already -- which she has.

Bright Spear, however, has her own pack to stand with, and darts off after tolerating yet another hug from the Silver Fang, who slips her arm through Javed's for the rest of the walk until they arrive. It is the first moot where the two of them have stood together as a true pack, bound by their totem, and she feels a warm, glowing ache in her chest that is just happiness, just joy. Finding their place, she withdraws her arm and slips quickly into wolf-shape, her fur thick with winter and gleaming white, her eyes still a pristine blue. In this body, she howls with the rest, pure and clear and resounding off the sandstone formations that surround this area.

Past that, Winona's calling to the four corners creates in her a different kind of ache, a reminder of something not very far gone in Avery's memory. From those same corners she called totems of pack and tribe, goddess of earth and moon, to exile one of their own. She swings her tail slightly, slowly, but the calling to the inner wind, breath of life, fills her with a reminder of peace. Of sameness.

She bumps her shoulder against Javed's warform. She'll have to ask him what happened to his jacket.

And then Reverence of Dawn, Radiant Honor will probably buy him a new wardrobe.

[mnemosyne]

Charlotte is with Erich, her fur the luminous, gleaming white of the full moon framed with a hint of wintry haze in the sky. The air is sharp and cold and the skies dark and clear and Charlotte-wolf slips alongside her larger packmate, sleek and sure-footed on the broken ground, running into the dizzying thoughtlessness of the central bawn with a cheerful abandon matched to but different than her packmate's simple, eager, animal joy. The closer they get, though, the greater the pull and pressure. Charlotte-wolf stays close to Erich's flank, a wary silver shadow. She is alert, way and respectful of Desert Oracles, but quiet, tense, and not at all playful like her packmate.

That tension lingers in her as the right begins, but the wolf shakes her wariness more easily than the girl ever does. The voices of the Sept rise around them, jangling, eerie, soaring and sure.

Charlotte joins them, opens herself up, howls.

[jamie]

Celduin come tearing out of the woods in their wolf-skins and look who they've brought with them! A Shadow Lord Galliard!

Hector may or may not chase Thomas all the way to the circle and may or may not wrangle him until he comes to stand with them but when the wind comes kicking up from the four ends of the earth and the time comes for the howl the Uktena does throw back his head and he does howl.

[-ix-]

Thomas, who spends an inordinate amount of time being withdrawn and moody, seems perfectly content to be chased into the circle. In fact, once inside the circle he makes very quick rounds before the rite begins, a little more subdued once he's at the gathering proper than he was while he was being chased through the trees and crunching on leaves and snapping on sticks and being not at all stealthy.

But, once he's done with his very quick greetings to those he knows he does return to Celduin. Or, possibly more accurately, since he's not part of any formal pack bonds regardless of their entrance, he returns to Hector and therefore is near the rest of Celduin. Trust isn't exactly the easiest thing with him. Still, it marks the first moot he hasn't crept off to stand entirely in his own space.

And, when the moment comes, he howls.