Another week
Jul. 2nd, 2010 09:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shelbyrouIt is currently 12:15 Pacific Time on Fri Jul 2 2010.
Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (61% full).
Around the Lone Boulder
The day is pleasantly cool, with only the faintest tickle of breeze coming up from the southwest. This time, Chandini is not holding still waiting for her pupils. This time she's turning cartwheels.
Freedom comes strolling into the clearing, hands swinging at his sides. The slight shortness of breath shows he hasn't been walking the whole way, though, and there's enough in the way of dirt, grass stains, and bits of dry leaves stuck to various clothing and hair that he may well have rolled part of the way. "Afternoon, Chandini-rhya," he calls on his approach.
Shelby peers down from the top of the boulder, which she's been throwing herself against while waiting for the others. "There's Freedom," she calls, and waves to the Fianna before scrambling down the rock face.
Rift-Mender pads slowly, from the forest and toward the boulder. Her ears are wilted, head hanging, and pace seeming to border on exhaustion. But her eyes are set with determination. The Galliard's throat and back show signs of blood, the fur matted and dark brown in places, noticeable as she draws closer. A greeting is chuffed to the others, hind end lowering to the ground as she stops at the boulder.
Chandini comes upright with a small hop as Freedom's voice reaches her. She flashes a brief grin at Shelby and tugs her shirt into place over her narrow torso. "Namaste--!" she starts, but then she gets a clear sight of how Rift-Mender is moving, and stops with the greeting. She doesn't stop moving, though, although she doesn't run, either. "Kya voh? What happened?"
Freedom rests his hands on his knees, catching his breath. He looks over to Rift-Mender with new concern, though he doesn't say anything yet.
Shelby turns from the boulder, brushing off her clothes as always, though when her eyes find Jacey they widen (not like always). "Are you all right?" she seconds, throwing the others a glance before heading warily to the injured cub.
Rift-Mender huffs off the concern, lifting her head and looking toward Chandini. There was ~fomor~ in the forests north of the Weaver ribbon, she explains. Corpses and strange ~fomor~ that turned into bugs. The Galliard looks over her shoulder, eyeing her back and appearing somewhat sheepish under all that tired. She offers that she's alright, thinks Tree-rhya healed her somehow, but still very tired and weak.
Experienced in assessing injury, Chandini runs worried eyes over the cub's body. "I am glad you were healed," she says. "You are too weak to wash? It is not so good to walk around smelling of blood."
Freedom mouths "fomor?" to himself, and straightens up.
"Euw," Shelby proclaims of bugs, and halts her approach right there, a good ten feet or so from Jacey. "When was this?" is followed immediately by, "They're letting you fight fomori?" half-alarmed, half-disgusted, and two-tenths impressed.
Rift-Mender gives herself another once over then passes an 'oops' sort of look to the Fury. She lowers herself to the ground, forelegs tucked under her and hind legs pushing her chest and neck against the ground. ~Fomor~, the Galliard explains as she gives herself a dirt bath. Creatures of the Horned Serpent. Shelby's comments are offered a wry look. ~Garou~ are designed for fighting creatures of the Horned Serpent, and it's one of the Laws.
"Fomori," Chandini says, watching Jacey. "One is fomor, more than one are fomori." She sits down on the ground not far from the galliard, and motions Shelby and Freedom to do likewise. "Today, we will not run, since I know Shelby has been working, I see Freedom has been, and I do not think it is the right time for Jacey, yeah? We will start with a little talking, and then move on. It is true that it is the law to fight the Wyrm, though it is the custom that cubs do not fight unless their elders say they should. Shelby-behen, explain what is a fomor."
Freedom still looks a little blank, but now also impressed, if only by following Shelby's lead. He sits where Chandini indicates.
"You're a cub," Shelby starts, only to be stopped by Chandini's explanation; she nods agreement instead, then deliberately draws nearer to find a place to sit. "Fomori happen when spirits possess people. Animals too," she adds after a second's thought. "Sometimes they have to get consent, but sometimes they don't."
The use of dirt for washing lasts only a couple of moments, Rift giving a tired huff and laying upon the ground. Her head tilts eyes turning toward the other three Garou, ears flicking toward Shelby's aborted protest. Quietly the Galliard chuffs, patiently and politely explaining she's fought lots of Horned Serpent creatures in cubhood.
Chandini's knobby hand goes out to rest on Rift-Mender's shoulder. "Possibly more than has been entirely for the best, yeah? But it has given you experience. I am glad you survived again. A fomor is when a spirit that is of the Wyrm does the possessing, yeah? Although--" she gets an odd look on her face "--I don't know if any other kind does that, or what it would be called if it did." She pauses, momentarily side-tracked, then gets back to the subject. "They are strange creatures, and you fight them in the realm, yeah? A bane - a wyrm spirit - most often you fight in yeh Shadow. Only a very powerful bane can come to the Realm. Jacey, be galliard. Tell us how the fight was - and where, and who you fought beside."
Freedom's expression is increasingly bemused, but he listens intently, looking to Jacey at the end of this for the next part of the story.
"You're a better fighter than I am," Shelby tells the other girl with a twist of her lips before she goes quiet again. She laces her fingers together before resting them in her lap, listening attentively.
Rift-Mender pushes herself back slightly to allow room for her form to swell and bulk into hispo, shaggy and dark gray, forepaws walking backward until she's sitting upright. ~Mother's Tongue,~ she explains to the other cubs, ears splaying briefly. ~I was in the forests far to the north that shelter and hide my Tribe's lands, enjoying the evening and clearing my mind in preparation for my Rite of Passage. I'd wandered farther than I normally do and soon my thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of construction. I decided to investigate, to bring word back to the Warder at least, and when I drew closer to the sounds I came across another Garou. I don't know him, but...~ The Galliard at this point goes off to give a brief description of Scar.
"Accha!" Chandini says, in a tone of revelation. "That was the fight Scarji had without me last night." She laughs and says, to Freedom, "My packmate, yeah? Jack Salem. Scar, half moon of the Glass Walkers."
"I don't believe I've met him," Free says, "though I have heard of the Glass Walkers." He flashes Rift-Mender a quick smile, and draws a knee to his chest for listening to the story.
Shelby says, perhaps unexpectedly, "I know him. --Freedom? Do you need me to translate the Mother's Tongue, or do you understand it well enough?"
Freedom admits, "I'm only getting some of it. If you could translate, I'd follow better."
Rift-Mender flicks an ear toward Chandini, noting the name to herself. ~He and I continued toward the sounds and at some point we met up with another Garou named Truth of Morning and a fox I know I've seen somewhere before. The fox followed, but was more just another body than of any use, in fact she disappeared at some point and reappeared only after we defeated the fomor.~ The Galliard pauses and gives her head a small shake. ~Jumping ahead. Truth of Morning and the fox joined us and, while we were traveling to the sounds the smell of decay and death grabbed our attention and we changed paths to discover the source and hopefully find out why.~
Chandini's dark brows curve up. "If you could not see her, how do you know she did nothing? But go on, little sister."
Shelby nods and quietly rises, moving behind Chandini to settle beside the other Ragabash. Eyes fixed on Rift-Mender, she starts the translation, voice low.
Freedom looks less baffled now that he has a translation provided at his side.
Rift-Mender glances toward Chandini, seeming for the moment to consider the Ahroun's thoughts before picking up again. ~We followed the stench for a while and eventually found two bodies placed and partly hidden under a bush. There was a place for a third body and footsteps and death-stink leading away. While examining the site a third Garou showed up.~ The cub hesitates, fear and worry showing briefly. ~Tree-rhya, a spirit speaker and child of Unicorn had come to see what was happening. She tends the forests there, protects them. She joined our party and we kept searching, following the fainter tracks but growing smell away and to what looked like a man from the back.~
Chandini gives Shelby and Freedom a thoroughly approving look and listens intently.
Shelby continues to translate, getting perhaps ninety percent of the Galliard's story.
Freedom pays close attention to Shelby's translation, trying to listen to that and the original language at the same time. He looks quite interested as the last part of Jacey's words is passed on to him.
~Scar-rhya went in first, in homid, to see if the man was lost,~ The Galliard continues. ~Though we knew the man wasn't entirely right from the beginning. Tree-rhya told us there was Wyrm nearby. When the man turned and we saw only blackness where his teeth and tongue would be, that's when Scar-rhya attacked. He shot into war form and tried to cut the fomor in two with his claws. Just behind, Truth of Morning rushed in to tackled the man, using his near wolf form and huge size to his advantage. Tree-rhya and I sat and watched, ready for if they needed help.~
Chandini's brows rise again briefly, but this time she keeps her comments to herself. "And they did, I am guessing?"
~Scar and Truth of Morning took injuries, but didn't back off the attack. Scar-rhya joined Truth of Morning in near wolf and managed to grab hold of the fomor's leg. Something was wrong with Truth of Morning, though, he was acting weakened after being bitten. Tree-rhya went to assist him and I jumped in to assist Scar-rhya, taking on this form. I tried to grab the man's throat with my jaws but missed and caught his shoulder instead. In turn he bit down on my throat and I began to feel weakened.~ Rift Mender pauses for a breath, looking toward the ground. ~Tree-rhya abanded Truth of Morning to try and put herself between me and the fomor while I shifted to war form and tried to pry his jaws off me. Scar-rhya also shifted to war form again and drove his fist through the man's skull. the fomor didn't just die, he turned into a bajillion little red-brown mites. Which Scar-rhya burned after shifting to homid.~
"Haan, Scarji hai," Chandini says, looking fond. "That is Scarji. But you, behen?"
Shelby doggedly continues to translate, even with her face screwed up. When Rift-Mender pauses she inserts an 'ew' which is entirely editorial.
Rift-Mender lowers her belly to the ground, glancing toward Chandini. ~I think I just got in the way. Tree-rhya I think healed me, then she threw up and yelled at us to leave. And Scar-rhya was upset that I didn't go for a limb like he instructed.~
Freedom quietly seconds Shelby's "Ew", though mostly through facial expression.
Long distance to Chandini: Shelby nods. It's an interesting story, and probably should be told in entire rather than a hand-wavey "And then stuff happened."
"You said that you bit its shoulder," Chandini objects, mildly. "But why did you attempt the throat and not a limb, if he had said so?"
~Throat is more vulnerable,~ Rift replies. ~Scar-rhya wanted to use him as a wishbone, the same could have been done by pulling his head off at the throat while the other pulled his legs.~
Chandini stretches her arms over her head and pulls them down behind her back, bony shoulders jutting under her yellow shirt. "So," she says, with some humor. "If this were a session with me, we would have you do that all again, yeah?"
Shelby half-grins at Rift-Mender, not unsympathetically.
Freedom shakes his head, with a slight smile as well. "I'm glad the sessions here don't result in as much injuries." Having actually said that, he suddenly has reason to look worried.
~So I should do it again, and this time follow instructions,~ Rift states in reply to the Ahroun. ~And next time, I'll follow instructions, Falling Star-rhya.~
Chandini twists, her spine popping audibly. Then she relaxes and reaches over with one hand to rumble Rift-Mender's fur. "Good. Because I prefer the cubs I work with not to bring their own throats near a fomor's mouth, unless they have a very good reason for it, yeah? But that was a good story, and a good fight. Shelby, Freedom, before we start moving again, questions hain?"
"Hain?" Shelby repeats, but shakes her head and answers the rest of the question. "No, Chandini-rhya. Thanks for the story, Jacey. It sounds scary."
Freedom thinks a moment, then asks, "So a fomor is when a spirit inhabits the body of something else, right? But...how does a spirit make a body do things differently? I can sort of understand the whole point where it controls what the body does, but not how it can make the body turn into something else, like with all those mites. How does the physics work there? Is it just rearranging the existing atoms and proteins and stuff into different shapes, or has it transmuted one type of element into another, or is it actually calling matter into existence?"
Rift-Mender grunts agreeably to Chandini, reverting to wolf speak and allowing that she'd rather not have her throat near anything without good reason. Her form shrinks down into lupus. There, she gives Shelby a wicked lupine grin. She has more stories she could share some time. She has fought many fomori and some Fallen and even a couple of ~Banes~ in the Shadow.
With a puzzled look at Freedom, Chandini asks, "How are the physics working when you become a wolf?"
Freedom shrugs. "I don't know. I was going to ask about that later. I'm never sure what to assume when there's a prohibition against writing anything down. How do your scientists study that kind of stuff and track their research data?"
Rift-Mender huffs quietly in Freedom's direction, head lowering to her paws. Ask Cockroach's brood, is her suggestion.
"...What?" Shelby asks, utterly baffled and half-leaning away from Freedom as if to get a better look. "It's magic. There aren't any scientists," in her mouth it sounds like a dirty word. "It just is. --We just are," she corrects.
Chandini unfolds herself from the ground, like a lanky telescope. "We have been holding still too long," she says, smiling as she leaves Freedom's question unanswered. "It is time to shake the body loose. Jacey, you will do as much or as little as is right for you, as you are now, yeah?"
Freedom stands up, telling Jacey, "I'll try to remember to do that." He stretches his arms above his head, and has certainly caught his breath back by now.
Rift-Mender pushes herself upright, grunting her agreement. Ears flick toward the two Ragabash cubs as she stretches her back, kicking a hind leg outward in the action. The Galliard's attention turns to the Fury as she gives her hide a small shake, waiting for instruction.
Chandini senses that Shelby rolls her eyes as she stands.
Shelby stands up, of course brushing off her pants. "Yes, Chandini-rhya." She moves a little way from Freedom and extends her arms, twisting at the waist and circling her arms wide.
"Today will be sparring," Chandini says, just as pleasantly. "Shelby, Freedom, have you sparred before?"
Freedom says, "Not really, Chandini-rhya. What're the rules?"
"Not together," the Fang agrees, with a sideways look at the other Ragabash. "Sort of, with August-rhya, but." She continues to swing her arms for a moment before finishing, "Most he's been showing me how to break holds and things."
Rift-Mender lowers her hind end onto the ground, tail curling around her paws. She simply watches the two no-moons and the Ahroun, head lowering slightly.
"Mm," Chandini says, thinking. "Freedom, there is no set of rules for all sparring. We will spar with different rules at different times. Mostly, we will spar in human bodies, for instance. Somebody should tell me why it is important to become very good at fighting in human form."
Freedom hesitates, then suggests, "Because it's a form you can fight in, in front of people who don't know about all this, without giving away any big secrets? Or making people start freaking out about wolves in the streets."
Shelby says, "That's what I was going to say, about the Veil." She thinks for a moment as well. "Plus in homid we don't have teeth or claws, so when we spar we can't really hurt each other."
Also gives some knowledge for using other forms, Rift Mender interjects. War form and man are different but close enough that some things carry over.
Chandini smiles again in genuine pleasure. "All good answers. You are good at this, all of you." She settles into a crouch, knees jutting almost as high as her shoulders. "They are all good answers," she says again. "And all true. The one I was thinking of was like what you said about the Veil, but a little more: imagine you are in yeh city, and something terrible happens. You are shocked into moving--action--yeah? You must fight or run. Now imagine that your body does not know, in every single muscle, that you can fight well in your human form. What will happen?"
"Horrible bloody death?" Free suggests. "...although, uh, not always for the right person, come to think of it."
"You'll freeze," says Shelby. "I mean," she looks to the other cubs and wrinkles her nose, "I would, anyway. Which would lead, like Freedom said, to something bad happening."
Rift-Mender seems to agree, though maybe not entirely. She mulls over the question as she looks away from the group and studies the trees.
"You will shift," Chandini says gently. "If it's bad enough. And you must not shift unless you have chosen to because you know it is safe. You must not. It is not just a violation of the law, but a betrayal of every garou in the sept, if you do. And so your body must be quite certain it does not have to shift when there is a threat. Or you must choose never to be among humans. And few of us would make that choice. Now. Jacey, are you going to spar, or to look on, today?"
Freedom nods to Chandini, with a more thoughtful expression than before.
Shelby starts to say something but doesn't, only nods and looks down, wrapping her arms over her belly.
Rift-Mender would like to watch if she's allowed. The Galliard's head lifts and turns toward Chandini. But she has other duties she could see to, if Falling Star-rhya would prefer that.
"Stay," Chandini says, and stands up again. "Freedom, yahaan. Here." She points. "Shelby-behen," she continues, her tone just as matter-of-fact, "you have much more courage and strength than you believe. I have seen it. What you need is training, and that is what we are here for. You stand here." She indicates a spot facing Freedom, within arm's reach.
Freedom moves to the indicated spot, bouncing once on his heels as he waits for everyone to be in place.
Shelby glances up, her mouth twisting, but doesn't say anything, at least not until she's standing in front of the other Ragabash. She gives him a small, rueful smile before asking, "Chandini-rhya? What do those words mean? Yahaan, behen?" Her accent is atrocious, but the words are clear enough.
Rift-Mender edges backward until she's well out of the way and pressed up against the rock's surface. She stays quiet, but observant of the two cubs and instructor.
Chandini smiles. "Yahaan is 'here,'" she explains. "Behen is 'sister,' or 'little sister,' yeah? But, in India, it is not like in the States. We use those words - bhai, behen, didi, dadi, bhaabhii--brother, sister, sister, grandmother..." She pauses, brows crooking together. "Bhaabhii is...the woman your brother is married to, yeah? But we use those words for everyone. In India, we make everyone our family. When I use Hindi, I try to say the English, too, but with those words, it is...there is not English that is the same, hai na?" She laughs. "Hai na is 'isn't it'. But different from English." She stands back. "Now, you are ready? To begin, you will move slowly and steadily, slow enough that the other can block each strike. Shelby, you will go as though to punch Freedom, but slowly, slowly. Freedom-bhai, you will move your arm to push her punch away, and you will strike in return, just as slowly. She will block, and strike back. You will both try to keep the pace very steady, not speeding up and slowing down, but even, yeah? Ek, doh, ek, doh. One, two, one, two. If you are ready, begin."
Freedom sets himself in position, raising his arms slowly in preparation for the attacks. He is, for once, remembering the "slowly" part along with the rest of the instructions.
"Like French," the Fang says, "and its n'est-ce pas." She nods through the rest of the instruction before turning back to face Freedom with perhaps an excess of concentration. Her first attack, as slowly as requested, is straight toward the boy's middle.
"Ek," Chandini counts.
Freedom blocks and pushes away, just as slowly. There is a little foot-shifting impatience, but his responses are as deliberate as requested. He follows with a nice, slow punch towards the throat.
Though she winces Shelby holds her ground and pushes the attack away with a forearm, her own heading for Freedom's non-attacking shoulder.
Rift-Mender lifts her hind end from the ground, circling around slowly until she's at Chandini's side. Her eyes remain on the cubs, watching their movements rather than their expressions.
"Doh," Chandini says, as Shelby blocks Freedom's strike, and then, "Ek," as Shelby attacks in turn, anticipating Freedom's block.
Freedom starts to speed up in the block, then shifts his weight and holds himself to the same pace as when they started. He bites the corner of his lip, concentrating as much on the pace as the block-attack-block-attack process.
Shelby's most obvious problem is that she seems to expect every blow to land. Her second-most is that some of the blocks have no form behind them whatsoever, and are more shoving the incoming hand away than setting herself up for the next strike. She tends to concentrate on his center torso, rarely going for anything more mobile, and only once or twice aiming for the face - but at least her rhythm is fairly good.
"Haan, Freedom-bhai," Chandini says, as if he had spoken. "The rhythm is harder than the hitting is. But--if you can do something well, but slowly, then you can learn to do the same thing faster. If you can only do something badly quickly, there is nowhere to go. Try some kicks, but be careful of your balance, yeah?" This last seems to be more generally directed.
Freedom nods to Chandini. At least he has rhythm, to go with his impatience. He tries for a kick, aiming at Shelby's nearest knee.
Rift-Mender, after a moment, lowers her hindquarters to sit beside Chandini. Her head tilts, eyes intent on punch-block combinations.
Shelby yelps and hops away, batting fairly ineffectually at the Fianna's leg. Not exactly a shining moment. From her slightly-crouched position she aims another fist at him, slightly off the count and headed for his hip.
Chandini gives a little, quite involuntary gurgle of laughter. "Thaharanaye," she says. "Stop. Behen, stand up."
Freedom stands up, by which he draws away from the next fist instead of blocking it properly.
Shelby straightens with her hands in a proper block position, anyway. "Sorry," she apologizes first to Freedom, then again to their teacher. "I got rattled, I'm sorry."
"Good!" Chandini says cheerfully. She seems to mean it. "Now, again?"
Freedom goes back to trying this punch-and-block thing again, trying to find the same rhythm as before.
Shelby's better - for certain levels of 'better' - when things remain entirely arm-based, though she still tends to wince. Or maybe those are just really brief grimaces of anger? Arm, block. Punch, block.
This time, Chandini lets the exchange go on for several minutes, not calling it to a halt even if one side or the other fumbles the rhythm, just gently, inexorably counting it out for them to return to. Only when tiredness threatens their steadiness does she call a halt again. "Bas. Enough. Both of you, that was very good. That is enough for today. Freedom, you will continue to practice with a bag for punching?"
Freedom ducks his head towards Chandini. "I will," he says, drawing in deeper breaths. "Thank you for the lesson, Chandini-rhya." He flashes a smile at Shelby. "And for letting me try to hit you, Shelby."
Shelby gladly backs out of arm's reach, breathing heavily enough that she can at first only manage a nod to the other cub. "See you- next week?"
Rift-Mender chuffs quietly, seeming to agree that there was good effort put forth. She sounds, too, regretful that she couldn't have participated in practice, but should be better prepared next week.
"Next week," Freedom says, with a grin for Rift-Mender as well, who may get a chance to punch him a few times by then.
"Shelby-behen. If you can stay another minute?" Chandini smiles, presumably in an effort to dispel any ominous quality that inquiry might carry. To Rift-Mender, she says, "Only live so long, and we will certainly."
Shelby nods to Chandini as well before succumbing to gravity, and laying flat upon the ground. "Have a good weekend," tumbles out in a rush, the suggestion made to all of them and none.
Rift-Mender looks to Chandini after watching Freedom depart, tongue lolling in humor. Yes, Falling-Star-rhya. She will be sure to try and avoid being bitten more often. The Galliard seems to take the Ahourn's words as a dismissal, for she stands and whuffs at Shelby before turning to make the journey back to the Grotto.
Chandini watches Shelby tolerantly. "You will get your breath back sooner walking than lying down."
Shelby waves a hand at the whuff, cracks open an eye at Chandini, and might, for a moment, refuse to rise. But rise she does, with the requisite brushing, and calls, "See you at the Moot!" after Rift-Mender. Then she does walk a bit, orbiting slow circles about the boulder.
"Take the time you need," Chandini tells her easily. "And then we can spar a little together."
Shelby glances over her shoulder, eyes a touch wide, before she disappears behind the rock again. Perhaps three steps later, if she keeps to the same pace, comes, "Yes, Chandini-rhya." Two orbits later she breaks free of the boulder's gravitational pull, heading a short distance past the Ahroun before returning to offer a thin smile and her hands in guard position. "I'm ready when you are."
Chandini lifts her own hands, almost mirroring the cub. A flicker of pleasure dances in her dark eyes. "Same as with Freedom," she says. "Begin when you are ready."
Shelby is a touch more ginger with Chandini than she was with Freedom, though it might not be obvious to the casual eye. As before she keeps her blows primarily to the other girl's torso, eyes fastened on that rather than the Ahroun's face.
Chandini is quiet. She blocks each blow of Shelby's with no more than the minimum force required to stop it, and keeps her own strikes slow, smooth, and obvious, moving aside with every deflection. At first, each comes directly, straight from her body to Shelby's own face and torso. Then, without breaking the rhythm, she brings her hand around in a curve, as though to slice at the Fang's ear with the edge of her open hand.
Frowning in concentration, the Ragabash is just starting to relax when Chandini tries her trick. She ducks away again, just like with Freedom, though this time she doesn't yelp, and a forearm comes up to try and deflect the blow. It's half a beat behind the rhythm, and utterly laughable, but she does poke a fist at the Ahroun in some sort of rebuttal.
There's a smile, and no break in Chandini's rhythm at all. It's like fighting with a metronome. She blocks the rebuttal, and this time brings her hand up - no faster than ever - from below toward Shelby's chin.
"Sorry!" Shelby flinches again, this time to the left, and flings another block (of sorts) at Chandini. Her reply is a bit faster off the mark this time, and after a moment she manages to stand straight.
Chandini doesn't reply, doesn't appear put off in the slightest, just keeps going, letting her own steadiness provide an anchor for the cub. This time it is her left fist which comes forward for a slow-motion jab.
Perhaps it's the steadiness of either opponent or attack, but after a few more exchanges Shelby stops flinching quite so obviously, and settles in with a renewed determination. A few more and she even tries a feint of her own, aiming for Chandini's face before bringing it down in a (really bad) strike for the shoulder.
Chandini's features brighten with real enjoyment. "Good!" She didn't even move for the feint and blocks the shoulder blow easily, but seems truly pleased.
Shelby is obviously thrilled by the compliment; emboldened, she tries another (just as telegraphed) feint two exchanges later. She's starting to tire, her arms not coming up quite as high, or her blocks quite as fast, but she could go another little while before collapsing.
Chandini lets it go another three exchanges, and then says, gently, "Bas." She draws herself up, feet together, and smiles. She's lightly flushed, but hardly at Shelby's state of exhaustion. But then, she didn't do the same thing with Freedom, earlier.
Shelby takes a second to fall out of readiness, blinking momentary confusion at the lack of incoming attack, but when it sinks in she straightens, dropping her arms and offering Chandini a tired smile. "You and August-rhya," she pants, "are going to have me running marathons by Christmas, I just know it."
Lowering her own hands at the same time Shelby lowers hers, Chandini's smile widens. "If that is what you want," she says.
Shelby laughs, though it's not a happy sound. "Want? No." She leaves it at that, though, instead tipping her head toward the boulder. "Walk it off?"
"Haan," Chandini agrees, but perhaps surprisingly falls in beside Shelby to walk with her. "Why not want? You take pleasure in doing well. I see it."
"Yes, but," Shelby starts before falling silent to think (or perhaps catch her breath). After perhaps a quarter of a circle she tips her head up at the taller girl. "Not many Wyrm creatures in marathons. Plus there's the Veil, and they frown on you attacking other runners."
Chandini laughs, surprised and tickled. "Okay. So, something with more fighting, then? I think we can arrange that. If we try very hard." That mock-solemnity is probably as close as the transparent ahroun comes to a deadpan.
Shelby admits, self-mocking, "Maybe more running away," and finishes the circuit in silence. "I can't believe they let Jacey fight already," is the topic for the second go-round. "I don't know if I'm impressed, or what."
"Mm," Chandini says. "The first time, I believe was not a decision. I don't know if the others have been. She is very close to her rite, so perhaps that is why. Every tribe is different. And every cub has different things they struggle with, yeah? She might benefit from running away a little more."
Shelby laughs, shortly, and nods toward the edge of the wood - not actually where Jacey left them, but the intent is there. "She's only what, twelve? and I feel like she's a better Garou than I am. I hope she Rites well, though, if it really is that soon."
"Twelve?" Chandini repeats, puzzled. "Oh, how old she is? Yes, she had her Changing very young. But she has been training since the middle of the winter, yeah? So she is--older than you are, in a way. Though I think there are some things that are better for garou who have their Changing later," she adds thoughtfully. She pauses. "Zosia told me it was your birthday, last week."
The Ragabash nods, lips twisting as well, before the Fury's last has her sending a quick look sidelong. "It was Tuesday. Zosia got me a cake. It was... nice," she finally decides. "Nice," which seems to be sincere.
"Tuesday," Chandini repeats, and then an odd look crosses her face. "What is the month?"
Shelby repeats in turn, "The month? Um, it's July. Unless you mean my birthday? That's June 29th."
Chandini looks startled, and then she laughs. "My birthday is June, also. I forgot it was coming. The beginning, June two. Second."
"Well happy birthday," says Shelby automatically, though not without feeling. "A month late. Exactly a month late, come to think of it. So happy birthday-plus-a-month."
Chandini inclines her head. "Aur tum. That is, 'and you.' Happy birthday plus a few days." She finishes up with her walking and settles her shoulders against the rough stone. "It is probably not the day I was born, of course," she adds off-handedly. "But it has always been my birthday, so I like it."
"How does that work?" Shelby asks after a few more steps, and a wrinkled nose. "You have to know, don't you? For your auspice?"
Chandini looks puzzled by this. Possibly math is not her forte. "Abhita knew my auspice. She is my oldest sister - foster sister, yeah? She was four, so she knew some things. So we knew it had to be around that time, and Mamaji just wrote down 'June two' in the calendar, and that was all. She told me about it, when I was older."
There are probably half a thousand questions running through the Silver Fang's head right now, but what she ends up saying is, "June's a lovely month to have a birthday. Maybe next year we could do something in the middle, if you like? To take care of them both, you see."
Chandini smiles slowly. "I would like that."
Shelby's return smile has a touch of shyness to it. "So would I. And hopefully," she continues with exaggerated humor, "by next year I'll have passed my Rite of Passage."
"I do not think it will be so long," Chandini says, amused. "You will be cliath and training cubs, yourself."
"Poor cubs!" The Fang stops, moving away a little bit to circle her arms and move her shoulders. "How long were you a cub, if you don't mind me asking?"
Chandini doesn't seem to mind, but does seem to have to think. "Four moons? Five moons? In between, I think. I think it must have felt like years to my teachers." Her eyes glimmer.
Shelby hahs agreement. "It's been three months for me, so far. And, hm, seven, I guess, for Jacey. I can't decide if I want my Rite to hurry up and get here so they'll stop treating me like a child, or if I'd rather stay a cub, so I don't have to fight things like that bug-person Jacey was telling us about."
Totally serious now, Chandini nods. "That is exactly what you have to decide. But what you need is to believe that you can fight these things. That you can fight them without losing yourself, the most important part of who you are, who you know yourself to be. Because, behen, I do not think you will be happy being thought of as a child for very long."
"Terrified?" Shelby suggests wryly, and uses one hand to push her other arm as far down her back as she can. "But I'm not. Happy. I came out here ready to go to college, and an adult as far as everyone I knew was concerned. Then poof," or snap, as she switches arms, "suddenly people think I can't chew gum and walk at the same time."
Chandini nods again. "It is hard, when the Changing comes late. But there are things you have instead. Right now, you feel the lacks more, but I am thinking over time you may find the things you do have matter more."
"Mostly the Garou nation doesn't care about the things I have, though," Shelby says, and shrugs. "I'm not whining, I just... I don't know. I'm trying to think about what I have, and what's coming up in the next week or two, instead of crying about what I've lost and worrying about the next few months."
"You have school learning," Chandini points out. "Not enough of us have that. It was not as much as you meant to have, but it is a great deal more than most. And it makes a difference, especially for a small-moon. I went to school for a year, but I did not care for it very much, and we all knew I would be garou, so it made more sense for the money to go for Jaya and Abhita. I did not mind! But I'm glad when I meet other garou who know more than I do." She rubs the tip of her nose. "But, yes. I understand, I think, about being present when you are, where you are. I am mostly like that, because probably I will not live so long that I can spend my time not--not in that time, yeah?"
Shelby says, "That's true," even if she doesn't sound particularly cheered by this fact. "You have other sisters, then? How big is your family?"
"I have four foster-sisters. One of them lived with Mamaji with me, and the others had a different foster-mother," Chandini says readily. She holds up her left wrist, with its gold bracelets and multiple loops of wooden beads. Touching the bracelets, she says, "Five. One each from Mahima, Jaya, Rupa, and Abhita, and one from Mamaji. They took them off their wrists and put them on mine when they brought me to the woods where the sept was." There's a pause, an uncertain moment when it seems to hang in the balance whether Chandini will tip over into sadness, but in the end she just smiles wistfully and lowers her hand again. "You have family, yeah?" she observes. "But you had a look I did not understand when I said something about them, last week."
Shelby comes over to look at the bracelets, politely staying clear and keeping her hands away. "They're very pretty. How lovely, to have something like that from them." She looks off to the woods again in that moment of silence, then back with a smile that's not quite real. "Oh, I'm Silver Fang. Look back far enough and we're all related, aren't we? I even have a Sulkowski back there, only a few generations."
"I'm sorry," Chandini says quietly. "I understood all wrong, hai na? Who did you live with before you came here?" The smile seems to draw her as little as Shelby's earlier feints.
"It's all right," the Fang answers. "Back at Sunlit Waters, you mean? Grandpere and Grandmere Leveque." She slides easily into the French pronunciation. "They're the ones who taught my my francaise. My French."
"Grandpere and Grandmere," Chandini repeats, carefully. Her pronunciation isn't bad, but it's oddly colored by her persistent Hindi accent. "That is grandparents?"
Of course Shelby answers, "Oui. Yes. My Polish is better than my French, but I can hold a conversation in it - in French, I mean. Everyone at Sunlit Waters speaks Polish." Of course.
Chandini smiles. "In the States, it seems as though not many people know many languages. It always seems odd to me. I know only Bhojpuri, Hindi, and English, but Mamaji knows five languages, and that is not so strange, yeah?"
The Fang points out, with a smile of her own, "And Mother's Tongue - that's four. So you're only one off from your Mamaji. I could try and teach you Polish, if you like. I bet she doesn't have that one!"
Chandini laughs and shakes her head. "Nay. Hindi, English, Bhojpuri, Rajasthani, and Punjabi. But I am thinking I should work more on my English, not start a new language, yeah?"
"What does Tim speak? Tim-rhya, I mean," asks Shelby curiously. "Do you know? I think your English is very good. Besides, immersion is the fastest and best way to pick up a language, so you're doing well already."
"Haan," Chandini agrees, and then laughs at herself again. "Sonahari-bhai speaks Kashmiri, and a little Hindi. And English, of course. Maybe also others - I think I never stop finding out new things he knows."
"Sonahari," Shelby repeats, and looks politely expectant. "I know what you mean - every time I turn around he's doing something else. Do you know, the first time I met him, he appeared out of nowhere? Literally, nowhere! He was sitting on the kitchen counter."
"Very ragabash, yeah?" Chandini doesn't seem surprised.
"Very Tim," is Shelby's answer.
"Haan," Chandini says again. She pushes off from the side of the boulder with her shoulderblades. "He is wise and funny and clever, and I hope he can be with us for the fighting tomorrow."
Shelby says, "I'd be surprised if Zosia-rhya lets me go," though again, she doesn't sound terribly heartbroken. A little wistful, perhaps. "I suppose, though, that I'll have plenty of revels in a few months, right?"
Chandini says, not unkindly, "I would ask her not to. But yes, very many. And you will scout and fight and win. And I will be glad to have you at my side."
Shelby's smile - when she uses it - when she means it - is truly a pretty little thing, and so it is now. "Thanks, Chandini-rhya. That's very kind of you to say. I hope you're right." She glances up at the sun and grimaces, looks to where a watch ought to be and isn't. "Speaking of Tim, I think I might be late. I'll see you next week?"
"If I live," Chandini says lightly. She bows over her hands. "Namaste, Shelby."
Shelby mimics the other girl, though she adds a wry twist of her lips. "Namaste, Chandini." Another look to the sky and she drops into lupus, heading off to the north at a steady jog.
Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (61% full).
Around the Lone Boulder
The day is pleasantly cool, with only the faintest tickle of breeze coming up from the southwest. This time, Chandini is not holding still waiting for her pupils. This time she's turning cartwheels.
Freedom comes strolling into the clearing, hands swinging at his sides. The slight shortness of breath shows he hasn't been walking the whole way, though, and there's enough in the way of dirt, grass stains, and bits of dry leaves stuck to various clothing and hair that he may well have rolled part of the way. "Afternoon, Chandini-rhya," he calls on his approach.
Shelby peers down from the top of the boulder, which she's been throwing herself against while waiting for the others. "There's Freedom," she calls, and waves to the Fianna before scrambling down the rock face.
Rift-Mender pads slowly, from the forest and toward the boulder. Her ears are wilted, head hanging, and pace seeming to border on exhaustion. But her eyes are set with determination. The Galliard's throat and back show signs of blood, the fur matted and dark brown in places, noticeable as she draws closer. A greeting is chuffed to the others, hind end lowering to the ground as she stops at the boulder.
Chandini comes upright with a small hop as Freedom's voice reaches her. She flashes a brief grin at Shelby and tugs her shirt into place over her narrow torso. "Namaste--!" she starts, but then she gets a clear sight of how Rift-Mender is moving, and stops with the greeting. She doesn't stop moving, though, although she doesn't run, either. "Kya voh? What happened?"
Freedom rests his hands on his knees, catching his breath. He looks over to Rift-Mender with new concern, though he doesn't say anything yet.
Shelby turns from the boulder, brushing off her clothes as always, though when her eyes find Jacey they widen (not like always). "Are you all right?" she seconds, throwing the others a glance before heading warily to the injured cub.
Rift-Mender huffs off the concern, lifting her head and looking toward Chandini. There was ~fomor~ in the forests north of the Weaver ribbon, she explains. Corpses and strange ~fomor~ that turned into bugs. The Galliard looks over her shoulder, eyeing her back and appearing somewhat sheepish under all that tired. She offers that she's alright, thinks Tree-rhya healed her somehow, but still very tired and weak.
Experienced in assessing injury, Chandini runs worried eyes over the cub's body. "I am glad you were healed," she says. "You are too weak to wash? It is not so good to walk around smelling of blood."
Freedom mouths "fomor?" to himself, and straightens up.
"Euw," Shelby proclaims of bugs, and halts her approach right there, a good ten feet or so from Jacey. "When was this?" is followed immediately by, "They're letting you fight fomori?" half-alarmed, half-disgusted, and two-tenths impressed.
Rift-Mender gives herself another once over then passes an 'oops' sort of look to the Fury. She lowers herself to the ground, forelegs tucked under her and hind legs pushing her chest and neck against the ground. ~Fomor~, the Galliard explains as she gives herself a dirt bath. Creatures of the Horned Serpent. Shelby's comments are offered a wry look. ~Garou~ are designed for fighting creatures of the Horned Serpent, and it's one of the Laws.
"Fomori," Chandini says, watching Jacey. "One is fomor, more than one are fomori." She sits down on the ground not far from the galliard, and motions Shelby and Freedom to do likewise. "Today, we will not run, since I know Shelby has been working, I see Freedom has been, and I do not think it is the right time for Jacey, yeah? We will start with a little talking, and then move on. It is true that it is the law to fight the Wyrm, though it is the custom that cubs do not fight unless their elders say they should. Shelby-behen, explain what is a fomor."
Freedom still looks a little blank, but now also impressed, if only by following Shelby's lead. He sits where Chandini indicates.
"You're a cub," Shelby starts, only to be stopped by Chandini's explanation; she nods agreement instead, then deliberately draws nearer to find a place to sit. "Fomori happen when spirits possess people. Animals too," she adds after a second's thought. "Sometimes they have to get consent, but sometimes they don't."
The use of dirt for washing lasts only a couple of moments, Rift giving a tired huff and laying upon the ground. Her head tilts eyes turning toward the other three Garou, ears flicking toward Shelby's aborted protest. Quietly the Galliard chuffs, patiently and politely explaining she's fought lots of Horned Serpent creatures in cubhood.
Chandini's knobby hand goes out to rest on Rift-Mender's shoulder. "Possibly more than has been entirely for the best, yeah? But it has given you experience. I am glad you survived again. A fomor is when a spirit that is of the Wyrm does the possessing, yeah? Although--" she gets an odd look on her face "--I don't know if any other kind does that, or what it would be called if it did." She pauses, momentarily side-tracked, then gets back to the subject. "They are strange creatures, and you fight them in the realm, yeah? A bane - a wyrm spirit - most often you fight in yeh Shadow. Only a very powerful bane can come to the Realm. Jacey, be galliard. Tell us how the fight was - and where, and who you fought beside."
Freedom's expression is increasingly bemused, but he listens intently, looking to Jacey at the end of this for the next part of the story.
"You're a better fighter than I am," Shelby tells the other girl with a twist of her lips before she goes quiet again. She laces her fingers together before resting them in her lap, listening attentively.
Rift-Mender pushes herself back slightly to allow room for her form to swell and bulk into hispo, shaggy and dark gray, forepaws walking backward until she's sitting upright. ~Mother's Tongue,~ she explains to the other cubs, ears splaying briefly. ~I was in the forests far to the north that shelter and hide my Tribe's lands, enjoying the evening and clearing my mind in preparation for my Rite of Passage. I'd wandered farther than I normally do and soon my thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of construction. I decided to investigate, to bring word back to the Warder at least, and when I drew closer to the sounds I came across another Garou. I don't know him, but...~ The Galliard at this point goes off to give a brief description of Scar.
"Accha!" Chandini says, in a tone of revelation. "That was the fight Scarji had without me last night." She laughs and says, to Freedom, "My packmate, yeah? Jack Salem. Scar, half moon of the Glass Walkers."
"I don't believe I've met him," Free says, "though I have heard of the Glass Walkers." He flashes Rift-Mender a quick smile, and draws a knee to his chest for listening to the story.
Shelby says, perhaps unexpectedly, "I know him. --Freedom? Do you need me to translate the Mother's Tongue, or do you understand it well enough?"
Freedom admits, "I'm only getting some of it. If you could translate, I'd follow better."
Rift-Mender flicks an ear toward Chandini, noting the name to herself. ~He and I continued toward the sounds and at some point we met up with another Garou named Truth of Morning and a fox I know I've seen somewhere before. The fox followed, but was more just another body than of any use, in fact she disappeared at some point and reappeared only after we defeated the fomor.~ The Galliard pauses and gives her head a small shake. ~Jumping ahead. Truth of Morning and the fox joined us and, while we were traveling to the sounds the smell of decay and death grabbed our attention and we changed paths to discover the source and hopefully find out why.~
Chandini's dark brows curve up. "If you could not see her, how do you know she did nothing? But go on, little sister."
Shelby nods and quietly rises, moving behind Chandini to settle beside the other Ragabash. Eyes fixed on Rift-Mender, she starts the translation, voice low.
Freedom looks less baffled now that he has a translation provided at his side.
Rift-Mender glances toward Chandini, seeming for the moment to consider the Ahroun's thoughts before picking up again. ~We followed the stench for a while and eventually found two bodies placed and partly hidden under a bush. There was a place for a third body and footsteps and death-stink leading away. While examining the site a third Garou showed up.~ The cub hesitates, fear and worry showing briefly. ~Tree-rhya, a spirit speaker and child of Unicorn had come to see what was happening. She tends the forests there, protects them. She joined our party and we kept searching, following the fainter tracks but growing smell away and to what looked like a man from the back.~
Chandini gives Shelby and Freedom a thoroughly approving look and listens intently.
Shelby continues to translate, getting perhaps ninety percent of the Galliard's story.
Freedom pays close attention to Shelby's translation, trying to listen to that and the original language at the same time. He looks quite interested as the last part of Jacey's words is passed on to him.
~Scar-rhya went in first, in homid, to see if the man was lost,~ The Galliard continues. ~Though we knew the man wasn't entirely right from the beginning. Tree-rhya told us there was Wyrm nearby. When the man turned and we saw only blackness where his teeth and tongue would be, that's when Scar-rhya attacked. He shot into war form and tried to cut the fomor in two with his claws. Just behind, Truth of Morning rushed in to tackled the man, using his near wolf form and huge size to his advantage. Tree-rhya and I sat and watched, ready for if they needed help.~
Chandini's brows rise again briefly, but this time she keeps her comments to herself. "And they did, I am guessing?"
~Scar and Truth of Morning took injuries, but didn't back off the attack. Scar-rhya joined Truth of Morning in near wolf and managed to grab hold of the fomor's leg. Something was wrong with Truth of Morning, though, he was acting weakened after being bitten. Tree-rhya went to assist him and I jumped in to assist Scar-rhya, taking on this form. I tried to grab the man's throat with my jaws but missed and caught his shoulder instead. In turn he bit down on my throat and I began to feel weakened.~ Rift Mender pauses for a breath, looking toward the ground. ~Tree-rhya abanded Truth of Morning to try and put herself between me and the fomor while I shifted to war form and tried to pry his jaws off me. Scar-rhya also shifted to war form again and drove his fist through the man's skull. the fomor didn't just die, he turned into a bajillion little red-brown mites. Which Scar-rhya burned after shifting to homid.~
"Haan, Scarji hai," Chandini says, looking fond. "That is Scarji. But you, behen?"
Shelby doggedly continues to translate, even with her face screwed up. When Rift-Mender pauses she inserts an 'ew' which is entirely editorial.
Rift-Mender lowers her belly to the ground, glancing toward Chandini. ~I think I just got in the way. Tree-rhya I think healed me, then she threw up and yelled at us to leave. And Scar-rhya was upset that I didn't go for a limb like he instructed.~
Freedom quietly seconds Shelby's "Ew", though mostly through facial expression.
Long distance to Chandini: Shelby nods. It's an interesting story, and probably should be told in entire rather than a hand-wavey "And then stuff happened."
"You said that you bit its shoulder," Chandini objects, mildly. "But why did you attempt the throat and not a limb, if he had said so?"
~Throat is more vulnerable,~ Rift replies. ~Scar-rhya wanted to use him as a wishbone, the same could have been done by pulling his head off at the throat while the other pulled his legs.~
Chandini stretches her arms over her head and pulls them down behind her back, bony shoulders jutting under her yellow shirt. "So," she says, with some humor. "If this were a session with me, we would have you do that all again, yeah?"
Shelby half-grins at Rift-Mender, not unsympathetically.
Freedom shakes his head, with a slight smile as well. "I'm glad the sessions here don't result in as much injuries." Having actually said that, he suddenly has reason to look worried.
~So I should do it again, and this time follow instructions,~ Rift states in reply to the Ahroun. ~And next time, I'll follow instructions, Falling Star-rhya.~
Chandini twists, her spine popping audibly. Then she relaxes and reaches over with one hand to rumble Rift-Mender's fur. "Good. Because I prefer the cubs I work with not to bring their own throats near a fomor's mouth, unless they have a very good reason for it, yeah? But that was a good story, and a good fight. Shelby, Freedom, before we start moving again, questions hain?"
"Hain?" Shelby repeats, but shakes her head and answers the rest of the question. "No, Chandini-rhya. Thanks for the story, Jacey. It sounds scary."
Freedom thinks a moment, then asks, "So a fomor is when a spirit inhabits the body of something else, right? But...how does a spirit make a body do things differently? I can sort of understand the whole point where it controls what the body does, but not how it can make the body turn into something else, like with all those mites. How does the physics work there? Is it just rearranging the existing atoms and proteins and stuff into different shapes, or has it transmuted one type of element into another, or is it actually calling matter into existence?"
Rift-Mender grunts agreeably to Chandini, reverting to wolf speak and allowing that she'd rather not have her throat near anything without good reason. Her form shrinks down into lupus. There, she gives Shelby a wicked lupine grin. She has more stories she could share some time. She has fought many fomori and some Fallen and even a couple of ~Banes~ in the Shadow.
With a puzzled look at Freedom, Chandini asks, "How are the physics working when you become a wolf?"
Freedom shrugs. "I don't know. I was going to ask about that later. I'm never sure what to assume when there's a prohibition against writing anything down. How do your scientists study that kind of stuff and track their research data?"
Rift-Mender huffs quietly in Freedom's direction, head lowering to her paws. Ask Cockroach's brood, is her suggestion.
"...What?" Shelby asks, utterly baffled and half-leaning away from Freedom as if to get a better look. "It's magic. There aren't any scientists," in her mouth it sounds like a dirty word. "It just is. --We just are," she corrects.
Chandini unfolds herself from the ground, like a lanky telescope. "We have been holding still too long," she says, smiling as she leaves Freedom's question unanswered. "It is time to shake the body loose. Jacey, you will do as much or as little as is right for you, as you are now, yeah?"
Freedom stands up, telling Jacey, "I'll try to remember to do that." He stretches his arms above his head, and has certainly caught his breath back by now.
Rift-Mender pushes herself upright, grunting her agreement. Ears flick toward the two Ragabash cubs as she stretches her back, kicking a hind leg outward in the action. The Galliard's attention turns to the Fury as she gives her hide a small shake, waiting for instruction.
Chandini senses that Shelby rolls her eyes as she stands.
Shelby stands up, of course brushing off her pants. "Yes, Chandini-rhya." She moves a little way from Freedom and extends her arms, twisting at the waist and circling her arms wide.
"Today will be sparring," Chandini says, just as pleasantly. "Shelby, Freedom, have you sparred before?"
Freedom says, "Not really, Chandini-rhya. What're the rules?"
"Not together," the Fang agrees, with a sideways look at the other Ragabash. "Sort of, with August-rhya, but." She continues to swing her arms for a moment before finishing, "Most he's been showing me how to break holds and things."
Rift-Mender lowers her hind end onto the ground, tail curling around her paws. She simply watches the two no-moons and the Ahroun, head lowering slightly.
"Mm," Chandini says, thinking. "Freedom, there is no set of rules for all sparring. We will spar with different rules at different times. Mostly, we will spar in human bodies, for instance. Somebody should tell me why it is important to become very good at fighting in human form."
Freedom hesitates, then suggests, "Because it's a form you can fight in, in front of people who don't know about all this, without giving away any big secrets? Or making people start freaking out about wolves in the streets."
Shelby says, "That's what I was going to say, about the Veil." She thinks for a moment as well. "Plus in homid we don't have teeth or claws, so when we spar we can't really hurt each other."
Also gives some knowledge for using other forms, Rift Mender interjects. War form and man are different but close enough that some things carry over.
Chandini smiles again in genuine pleasure. "All good answers. You are good at this, all of you." She settles into a crouch, knees jutting almost as high as her shoulders. "They are all good answers," she says again. "And all true. The one I was thinking of was like what you said about the Veil, but a little more: imagine you are in yeh city, and something terrible happens. You are shocked into moving--action--yeah? You must fight or run. Now imagine that your body does not know, in every single muscle, that you can fight well in your human form. What will happen?"
"Horrible bloody death?" Free suggests. "...although, uh, not always for the right person, come to think of it."
"You'll freeze," says Shelby. "I mean," she looks to the other cubs and wrinkles her nose, "I would, anyway. Which would lead, like Freedom said, to something bad happening."
Rift-Mender seems to agree, though maybe not entirely. She mulls over the question as she looks away from the group and studies the trees.
"You will shift," Chandini says gently. "If it's bad enough. And you must not shift unless you have chosen to because you know it is safe. You must not. It is not just a violation of the law, but a betrayal of every garou in the sept, if you do. And so your body must be quite certain it does not have to shift when there is a threat. Or you must choose never to be among humans. And few of us would make that choice. Now. Jacey, are you going to spar, or to look on, today?"
Freedom nods to Chandini, with a more thoughtful expression than before.
Shelby starts to say something but doesn't, only nods and looks down, wrapping her arms over her belly.
Rift-Mender would like to watch if she's allowed. The Galliard's head lifts and turns toward Chandini. But she has other duties she could see to, if Falling Star-rhya would prefer that.
"Stay," Chandini says, and stands up again. "Freedom, yahaan. Here." She points. "Shelby-behen," she continues, her tone just as matter-of-fact, "you have much more courage and strength than you believe. I have seen it. What you need is training, and that is what we are here for. You stand here." She indicates a spot facing Freedom, within arm's reach.
Freedom moves to the indicated spot, bouncing once on his heels as he waits for everyone to be in place.
Shelby glances up, her mouth twisting, but doesn't say anything, at least not until she's standing in front of the other Ragabash. She gives him a small, rueful smile before asking, "Chandini-rhya? What do those words mean? Yahaan, behen?" Her accent is atrocious, but the words are clear enough.
Rift-Mender edges backward until she's well out of the way and pressed up against the rock's surface. She stays quiet, but observant of the two cubs and instructor.
Chandini smiles. "Yahaan is 'here,'" she explains. "Behen is 'sister,' or 'little sister,' yeah? But, in India, it is not like in the States. We use those words - bhai, behen, didi, dadi, bhaabhii--brother, sister, sister, grandmother..." She pauses, brows crooking together. "Bhaabhii is...the woman your brother is married to, yeah? But we use those words for everyone. In India, we make everyone our family. When I use Hindi, I try to say the English, too, but with those words, it is...there is not English that is the same, hai na?" She laughs. "Hai na is 'isn't it'. But different from English." She stands back. "Now, you are ready? To begin, you will move slowly and steadily, slow enough that the other can block each strike. Shelby, you will go as though to punch Freedom, but slowly, slowly. Freedom-bhai, you will move your arm to push her punch away, and you will strike in return, just as slowly. She will block, and strike back. You will both try to keep the pace very steady, not speeding up and slowing down, but even, yeah? Ek, doh, ek, doh. One, two, one, two. If you are ready, begin."
Freedom sets himself in position, raising his arms slowly in preparation for the attacks. He is, for once, remembering the "slowly" part along with the rest of the instructions.
"Like French," the Fang says, "and its n'est-ce pas." She nods through the rest of the instruction before turning back to face Freedom with perhaps an excess of concentration. Her first attack, as slowly as requested, is straight toward the boy's middle.
"Ek," Chandini counts.
Freedom blocks and pushes away, just as slowly. There is a little foot-shifting impatience, but his responses are as deliberate as requested. He follows with a nice, slow punch towards the throat.
Though she winces Shelby holds her ground and pushes the attack away with a forearm, her own heading for Freedom's non-attacking shoulder.
Rift-Mender lifts her hind end from the ground, circling around slowly until she's at Chandini's side. Her eyes remain on the cubs, watching their movements rather than their expressions.
"Doh," Chandini says, as Shelby blocks Freedom's strike, and then, "Ek," as Shelby attacks in turn, anticipating Freedom's block.
Freedom starts to speed up in the block, then shifts his weight and holds himself to the same pace as when they started. He bites the corner of his lip, concentrating as much on the pace as the block-attack-block-attack process.
Shelby's most obvious problem is that she seems to expect every blow to land. Her second-most is that some of the blocks have no form behind them whatsoever, and are more shoving the incoming hand away than setting herself up for the next strike. She tends to concentrate on his center torso, rarely going for anything more mobile, and only once or twice aiming for the face - but at least her rhythm is fairly good.
"Haan, Freedom-bhai," Chandini says, as if he had spoken. "The rhythm is harder than the hitting is. But--if you can do something well, but slowly, then you can learn to do the same thing faster. If you can only do something badly quickly, there is nowhere to go. Try some kicks, but be careful of your balance, yeah?" This last seems to be more generally directed.
Freedom nods to Chandini. At least he has rhythm, to go with his impatience. He tries for a kick, aiming at Shelby's nearest knee.
Rift-Mender, after a moment, lowers her hindquarters to sit beside Chandini. Her head tilts, eyes intent on punch-block combinations.
Shelby yelps and hops away, batting fairly ineffectually at the Fianna's leg. Not exactly a shining moment. From her slightly-crouched position she aims another fist at him, slightly off the count and headed for his hip.
Chandini gives a little, quite involuntary gurgle of laughter. "Thaharanaye," she says. "Stop. Behen, stand up."
Freedom stands up, by which he draws away from the next fist instead of blocking it properly.
Shelby straightens with her hands in a proper block position, anyway. "Sorry," she apologizes first to Freedom, then again to their teacher. "I got rattled, I'm sorry."
"Good!" Chandini says cheerfully. She seems to mean it. "Now, again?"
Freedom goes back to trying this punch-and-block thing again, trying to find the same rhythm as before.
Shelby's better - for certain levels of 'better' - when things remain entirely arm-based, though she still tends to wince. Or maybe those are just really brief grimaces of anger? Arm, block. Punch, block.
This time, Chandini lets the exchange go on for several minutes, not calling it to a halt even if one side or the other fumbles the rhythm, just gently, inexorably counting it out for them to return to. Only when tiredness threatens their steadiness does she call a halt again. "Bas. Enough. Both of you, that was very good. That is enough for today. Freedom, you will continue to practice with a bag for punching?"
Freedom ducks his head towards Chandini. "I will," he says, drawing in deeper breaths. "Thank you for the lesson, Chandini-rhya." He flashes a smile at Shelby. "And for letting me try to hit you, Shelby."
Shelby gladly backs out of arm's reach, breathing heavily enough that she can at first only manage a nod to the other cub. "See you- next week?"
Rift-Mender chuffs quietly, seeming to agree that there was good effort put forth. She sounds, too, regretful that she couldn't have participated in practice, but should be better prepared next week.
"Next week," Freedom says, with a grin for Rift-Mender as well, who may get a chance to punch him a few times by then.
"Shelby-behen. If you can stay another minute?" Chandini smiles, presumably in an effort to dispel any ominous quality that inquiry might carry. To Rift-Mender, she says, "Only live so long, and we will certainly."
Shelby nods to Chandini as well before succumbing to gravity, and laying flat upon the ground. "Have a good weekend," tumbles out in a rush, the suggestion made to all of them and none.
Rift-Mender looks to Chandini after watching Freedom depart, tongue lolling in humor. Yes, Falling-Star-rhya. She will be sure to try and avoid being bitten more often. The Galliard seems to take the Ahourn's words as a dismissal, for she stands and whuffs at Shelby before turning to make the journey back to the Grotto.
Chandini watches Shelby tolerantly. "You will get your breath back sooner walking than lying down."
Shelby waves a hand at the whuff, cracks open an eye at Chandini, and might, for a moment, refuse to rise. But rise she does, with the requisite brushing, and calls, "See you at the Moot!" after Rift-Mender. Then she does walk a bit, orbiting slow circles about the boulder.
"Take the time you need," Chandini tells her easily. "And then we can spar a little together."
Shelby glances over her shoulder, eyes a touch wide, before she disappears behind the rock again. Perhaps three steps later, if she keeps to the same pace, comes, "Yes, Chandini-rhya." Two orbits later she breaks free of the boulder's gravitational pull, heading a short distance past the Ahroun before returning to offer a thin smile and her hands in guard position. "I'm ready when you are."
Chandini lifts her own hands, almost mirroring the cub. A flicker of pleasure dances in her dark eyes. "Same as with Freedom," she says. "Begin when you are ready."
Shelby is a touch more ginger with Chandini than she was with Freedom, though it might not be obvious to the casual eye. As before she keeps her blows primarily to the other girl's torso, eyes fastened on that rather than the Ahroun's face.
Chandini is quiet. She blocks each blow of Shelby's with no more than the minimum force required to stop it, and keeps her own strikes slow, smooth, and obvious, moving aside with every deflection. At first, each comes directly, straight from her body to Shelby's own face and torso. Then, without breaking the rhythm, she brings her hand around in a curve, as though to slice at the Fang's ear with the edge of her open hand.
Frowning in concentration, the Ragabash is just starting to relax when Chandini tries her trick. She ducks away again, just like with Freedom, though this time she doesn't yelp, and a forearm comes up to try and deflect the blow. It's half a beat behind the rhythm, and utterly laughable, but she does poke a fist at the Ahroun in some sort of rebuttal.
There's a smile, and no break in Chandini's rhythm at all. It's like fighting with a metronome. She blocks the rebuttal, and this time brings her hand up - no faster than ever - from below toward Shelby's chin.
"Sorry!" Shelby flinches again, this time to the left, and flings another block (of sorts) at Chandini. Her reply is a bit faster off the mark this time, and after a moment she manages to stand straight.
Chandini doesn't reply, doesn't appear put off in the slightest, just keeps going, letting her own steadiness provide an anchor for the cub. This time it is her left fist which comes forward for a slow-motion jab.
Perhaps it's the steadiness of either opponent or attack, but after a few more exchanges Shelby stops flinching quite so obviously, and settles in with a renewed determination. A few more and she even tries a feint of her own, aiming for Chandini's face before bringing it down in a (really bad) strike for the shoulder.
Chandini's features brighten with real enjoyment. "Good!" She didn't even move for the feint and blocks the shoulder blow easily, but seems truly pleased.
Shelby is obviously thrilled by the compliment; emboldened, she tries another (just as telegraphed) feint two exchanges later. She's starting to tire, her arms not coming up quite as high, or her blocks quite as fast, but she could go another little while before collapsing.
Chandini lets it go another three exchanges, and then says, gently, "Bas." She draws herself up, feet together, and smiles. She's lightly flushed, but hardly at Shelby's state of exhaustion. But then, she didn't do the same thing with Freedom, earlier.
Shelby takes a second to fall out of readiness, blinking momentary confusion at the lack of incoming attack, but when it sinks in she straightens, dropping her arms and offering Chandini a tired smile. "You and August-rhya," she pants, "are going to have me running marathons by Christmas, I just know it."
Lowering her own hands at the same time Shelby lowers hers, Chandini's smile widens. "If that is what you want," she says.
Shelby laughs, though it's not a happy sound. "Want? No." She leaves it at that, though, instead tipping her head toward the boulder. "Walk it off?"
"Haan," Chandini agrees, but perhaps surprisingly falls in beside Shelby to walk with her. "Why not want? You take pleasure in doing well. I see it."
"Yes, but," Shelby starts before falling silent to think (or perhaps catch her breath). After perhaps a quarter of a circle she tips her head up at the taller girl. "Not many Wyrm creatures in marathons. Plus there's the Veil, and they frown on you attacking other runners."
Chandini laughs, surprised and tickled. "Okay. So, something with more fighting, then? I think we can arrange that. If we try very hard." That mock-solemnity is probably as close as the transparent ahroun comes to a deadpan.
Shelby admits, self-mocking, "Maybe more running away," and finishes the circuit in silence. "I can't believe they let Jacey fight already," is the topic for the second go-round. "I don't know if I'm impressed, or what."
"Mm," Chandini says. "The first time, I believe was not a decision. I don't know if the others have been. She is very close to her rite, so perhaps that is why. Every tribe is different. And every cub has different things they struggle with, yeah? She might benefit from running away a little more."
Shelby laughs, shortly, and nods toward the edge of the wood - not actually where Jacey left them, but the intent is there. "She's only what, twelve? and I feel like she's a better Garou than I am. I hope she Rites well, though, if it really is that soon."
"Twelve?" Chandini repeats, puzzled. "Oh, how old she is? Yes, she had her Changing very young. But she has been training since the middle of the winter, yeah? So she is--older than you are, in a way. Though I think there are some things that are better for garou who have their Changing later," she adds thoughtfully. She pauses. "Zosia told me it was your birthday, last week."
The Ragabash nods, lips twisting as well, before the Fury's last has her sending a quick look sidelong. "It was Tuesday. Zosia got me a cake. It was... nice," she finally decides. "Nice," which seems to be sincere.
"Tuesday," Chandini repeats, and then an odd look crosses her face. "What is the month?"
Shelby repeats in turn, "The month? Um, it's July. Unless you mean my birthday? That's June 29th."
Chandini looks startled, and then she laughs. "My birthday is June, also. I forgot it was coming. The beginning, June two. Second."
"Well happy birthday," says Shelby automatically, though not without feeling. "A month late. Exactly a month late, come to think of it. So happy birthday-plus-a-month."
Chandini inclines her head. "Aur tum. That is, 'and you.' Happy birthday plus a few days." She finishes up with her walking and settles her shoulders against the rough stone. "It is probably not the day I was born, of course," she adds off-handedly. "But it has always been my birthday, so I like it."
"How does that work?" Shelby asks after a few more steps, and a wrinkled nose. "You have to know, don't you? For your auspice?"
Chandini looks puzzled by this. Possibly math is not her forte. "Abhita knew my auspice. She is my oldest sister - foster sister, yeah? She was four, so she knew some things. So we knew it had to be around that time, and Mamaji just wrote down 'June two' in the calendar, and that was all. She told me about it, when I was older."
There are probably half a thousand questions running through the Silver Fang's head right now, but what she ends up saying is, "June's a lovely month to have a birthday. Maybe next year we could do something in the middle, if you like? To take care of them both, you see."
Chandini smiles slowly. "I would like that."
Shelby's return smile has a touch of shyness to it. "So would I. And hopefully," she continues with exaggerated humor, "by next year I'll have passed my Rite of Passage."
"I do not think it will be so long," Chandini says, amused. "You will be cliath and training cubs, yourself."
"Poor cubs!" The Fang stops, moving away a little bit to circle her arms and move her shoulders. "How long were you a cub, if you don't mind me asking?"
Chandini doesn't seem to mind, but does seem to have to think. "Four moons? Five moons? In between, I think. I think it must have felt like years to my teachers." Her eyes glimmer.
Shelby hahs agreement. "It's been three months for me, so far. And, hm, seven, I guess, for Jacey. I can't decide if I want my Rite to hurry up and get here so they'll stop treating me like a child, or if I'd rather stay a cub, so I don't have to fight things like that bug-person Jacey was telling us about."
Totally serious now, Chandini nods. "That is exactly what you have to decide. But what you need is to believe that you can fight these things. That you can fight them without losing yourself, the most important part of who you are, who you know yourself to be. Because, behen, I do not think you will be happy being thought of as a child for very long."
"Terrified?" Shelby suggests wryly, and uses one hand to push her other arm as far down her back as she can. "But I'm not. Happy. I came out here ready to go to college, and an adult as far as everyone I knew was concerned. Then poof," or snap, as she switches arms, "suddenly people think I can't chew gum and walk at the same time."
Chandini nods again. "It is hard, when the Changing comes late. But there are things you have instead. Right now, you feel the lacks more, but I am thinking over time you may find the things you do have matter more."
"Mostly the Garou nation doesn't care about the things I have, though," Shelby says, and shrugs. "I'm not whining, I just... I don't know. I'm trying to think about what I have, and what's coming up in the next week or two, instead of crying about what I've lost and worrying about the next few months."
"You have school learning," Chandini points out. "Not enough of us have that. It was not as much as you meant to have, but it is a great deal more than most. And it makes a difference, especially for a small-moon. I went to school for a year, but I did not care for it very much, and we all knew I would be garou, so it made more sense for the money to go for Jaya and Abhita. I did not mind! But I'm glad when I meet other garou who know more than I do." She rubs the tip of her nose. "But, yes. I understand, I think, about being present when you are, where you are. I am mostly like that, because probably I will not live so long that I can spend my time not--not in that time, yeah?"
Shelby says, "That's true," even if she doesn't sound particularly cheered by this fact. "You have other sisters, then? How big is your family?"
"I have four foster-sisters. One of them lived with Mamaji with me, and the others had a different foster-mother," Chandini says readily. She holds up her left wrist, with its gold bracelets and multiple loops of wooden beads. Touching the bracelets, she says, "Five. One each from Mahima, Jaya, Rupa, and Abhita, and one from Mamaji. They took them off their wrists and put them on mine when they brought me to the woods where the sept was." There's a pause, an uncertain moment when it seems to hang in the balance whether Chandini will tip over into sadness, but in the end she just smiles wistfully and lowers her hand again. "You have family, yeah?" she observes. "But you had a look I did not understand when I said something about them, last week."
Shelby comes over to look at the bracelets, politely staying clear and keeping her hands away. "They're very pretty. How lovely, to have something like that from them." She looks off to the woods again in that moment of silence, then back with a smile that's not quite real. "Oh, I'm Silver Fang. Look back far enough and we're all related, aren't we? I even have a Sulkowski back there, only a few generations."
"I'm sorry," Chandini says quietly. "I understood all wrong, hai na? Who did you live with before you came here?" The smile seems to draw her as little as Shelby's earlier feints.
"It's all right," the Fang answers. "Back at Sunlit Waters, you mean? Grandpere and Grandmere Leveque." She slides easily into the French pronunciation. "They're the ones who taught my my francaise. My French."
"Grandpere and Grandmere," Chandini repeats, carefully. Her pronunciation isn't bad, but it's oddly colored by her persistent Hindi accent. "That is grandparents?"
Of course Shelby answers, "Oui. Yes. My Polish is better than my French, but I can hold a conversation in it - in French, I mean. Everyone at Sunlit Waters speaks Polish." Of course.
Chandini smiles. "In the States, it seems as though not many people know many languages. It always seems odd to me. I know only Bhojpuri, Hindi, and English, but Mamaji knows five languages, and that is not so strange, yeah?"
The Fang points out, with a smile of her own, "And Mother's Tongue - that's four. So you're only one off from your Mamaji. I could try and teach you Polish, if you like. I bet she doesn't have that one!"
Chandini laughs and shakes her head. "Nay. Hindi, English, Bhojpuri, Rajasthani, and Punjabi. But I am thinking I should work more on my English, not start a new language, yeah?"
"What does Tim speak? Tim-rhya, I mean," asks Shelby curiously. "Do you know? I think your English is very good. Besides, immersion is the fastest and best way to pick up a language, so you're doing well already."
"Haan," Chandini agrees, and then laughs at herself again. "Sonahari-bhai speaks Kashmiri, and a little Hindi. And English, of course. Maybe also others - I think I never stop finding out new things he knows."
"Sonahari," Shelby repeats, and looks politely expectant. "I know what you mean - every time I turn around he's doing something else. Do you know, the first time I met him, he appeared out of nowhere? Literally, nowhere! He was sitting on the kitchen counter."
"Very ragabash, yeah?" Chandini doesn't seem surprised.
"Very Tim," is Shelby's answer.
"Haan," Chandini says again. She pushes off from the side of the boulder with her shoulderblades. "He is wise and funny and clever, and I hope he can be with us for the fighting tomorrow."
Shelby says, "I'd be surprised if Zosia-rhya lets me go," though again, she doesn't sound terribly heartbroken. A little wistful, perhaps. "I suppose, though, that I'll have plenty of revels in a few months, right?"
Chandini says, not unkindly, "I would ask her not to. But yes, very many. And you will scout and fight and win. And I will be glad to have you at my side."
Shelby's smile - when she uses it - when she means it - is truly a pretty little thing, and so it is now. "Thanks, Chandini-rhya. That's very kind of you to say. I hope you're right." She glances up at the sun and grimaces, looks to where a watch ought to be and isn't. "Speaking of Tim, I think I might be late. I'll see you next week?"
"If I live," Chandini says lightly. She bows over her hands. "Namaste, Shelby."
Shelby mimics the other girl, though she adds a wry twist of her lips. "Namaste, Chandini." Another look to the sky and she drops into lupus, heading off to the north at a steady jog.