shelbyrou: (Default)
[personal profile] shelbyrou
It is currently 17:55 Pacific Time on Sun Jun 12 2011.
Currently the moon is in the waxing Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (77% full).

In the Swirling Wind
The rugged walls of the canyon grow narrower to the northeast, forcing the gusts of winds that it catches to rush down into this small clearing. Here the breezes meet with the drifting mists off the waterfall's spray, becoming swirling bits of haze that dance and whirl like merry ghosts. Occasionally, the canyon's rim pushes swifter air into the caern, breaking up the dance and sending the mists, scattered, back to their source.

The forest surrounding the caern's border is far less dense than the rest of the nearby forest. Scattered, centuries-old oaks stand majestically over their fallen, decaying, moss-covered comrades. This peculiarity seems to surround only the area just outside the caern.

Swirling in the area is some of the mist sprayed up by the waterfall to the south. To the west, a rock slab juts out of the ground at an angle. the caern's center is to the southwest; the rest of the valley extends northeast, toward the mountains.

Obvious exits:
WaterFall Center Rocky Slab Up the Valley


The sun is beginning to set and its glow casts odd reflections on the swirling mists generated by the waterfall. Marcos is sitting crosslegged on a flat rock, his chin on his palm watching the mists as they swirl and move away from the falls. He seems deep in thought.

Shelby shimmers through the Gauntlet and wades out of the pool, pausing at the water's edge to unsling the boots from around her neck. A chance, automatic look around stops her in the middle of dressing, though, at least long enough to give Marcos a wave.

The Ahroun blinks in surprise at the arrival of Shelby and says, "Hello Shelby. Fancy seeing you here."

Shelby pulls her boots on before climbing up to join him. "I was looking for Zosia, actually," she says, with a tip of her head toward the pool. "Had to give her some information." A beat. "I don't suppose you've been having strange dreams?"

The Ahroun nods his head, "I've had a few. Cross roads with the four paths. Also discovered a Wyrm infested farm not so far from the bawn. I plan to deal with it, if I can find enough people willing."

"No," Shelby shakes her head, "not that sort of dreams. I already know about those, remember?" she adds with a quick grin. "No, I'm talking about recurring dreams. Dreams where things aren't quite right. Dreams that seem to be sending a message." News of the farm brings an equally brief scowl, and a shake of her head. "I'd heard about that."

Marcos nods his head, "I wasn't sure if you remembered we had talked about them. But no, no dreams of that sort." He seems surprised by her knowing of the farm, "How did you hear of the farm?"

The ragabash's lips curl, amused, as she bends to fiddle with her laces, tightening what doesn't really need more tension. "Zosia told me," she answers simply. "We might not be galliards, but we manage to get the important news passed along. How far from the bawn is this farm?"

Marcos shrugs, "Pretty far on foot. I rode my Harley. You care to be involved in helping eliminate the threat? Or are you bound to the bawn?"

"I'm a Guardian," Shelby answers simply, looking up again. "If I can be spared, of course I'll help, but really, I'm needed here. Just think of it - there's an entire Wyrm-infested farm within walking distance of the Bawn, and none of the Guardians knew? There simply aren't enough of us, just as there weren't the last time we spoke of this."

The Ahroun sighs and drops his chin back into his hand. "I see."

"I'm going on the Great Hunt, though," she continues in the same tone. "Are you planning on going? Or are you going to stay behind and guard?"

Marcos shrugs a bit, the question seeming to catch him off guard. "I had not thought about it."

Shelby studies his face for a moment. "Well, think about it. It's less than two weeks away. Ideally all of Falcon's children would be there, honoring both him and Helios."

Marcos shakes his head, "I did not mean that I had not thought about being there in general. Just not which role I would be performing."

Shelby says, "I don't know that any of us know specifically which role we'll be performing, at least not until the day of. I'll be a scout, of course, and you'll be in the thick of the fighting," as though such things were not only expected, but written in stone, "but beyond that?" She shrugs. "Will this be your first Great Hunt? Or just the first one here?"

The Fang considers, "My first to be able to participate in. At my last Sept I had not yet proven myself and as such, was not allowed to participate."

"Oh, you were a cub last year?" Shelby's all sympathy now. "Remind me again which Sept you rited at? Upstate New York, wasn't it?"

Marcos shrugs as if his cubhood doesn't matter. "Falcon's Eeyrie."

Shelby repeats, "In upstate New York?"

Marcos nods his head, "Yes. Upstate New York. Have you spoken to Tim again yet about forming a new pack?"

The Ragabash lifts both eyebrows at him. "In the last... how many days? since we spoke last?" A shake of her head dispels all hope. "No, sorry. I haven't even seen him in, oh, months, it feels like. Far too long. You've got a better chance of finding him than I do, as you can use your phone whenever you'd like."

Marcos nods and says, "I actually saw him on the bawn just a few days ago is why I asked. He said he would be around here for a while."

That little information brings Shelby straight up, ears metaphorically pricked. "Oh? I'll have to keep an eye out for him, then. You know what I mean." She taps her nose. "Did you ask him about packing, or were you a little more subtle than that?"

Marcos shakes his head, "Others present and the more pressing matters of the farm kept me from it. I told him I would like to speak with him again soon and he said that he would be around." He sighs and says, "I have not seen him since."

"Strider," the girl says lightly, and fusses with her laces again. "I honestly don't know if you'd fit with Tim or not. He's very... adaptable, I guess is the word. Which a good ragabash has to be. I'll be interested to see how the two of you get along."

Marcos raises an eyebrow, "Why would you be concerned?"

"I'm not concerned," she denies, "just... interested. Like a science experiment." Her smile blossoms, wobbles, then strengthens again. "Speaking of - did you ever take biology classes?"

Marcos nods and says, "Just introductory. Why do you ask?"

Shelby says, "Those dreams I was asking about. The recurring ones. My dreams have all been about biology classes. Zosia and Norman-rhya, they've been dreaming about two women and a man and an elevator."

Marcos seems confused by that, "And what do they believe the meaning of that to be?"

Shelby offers archly, "I believe we are still gathering information. It is unwise to hypothesize before having all the facts, hadn't you heard?" Her smile invites him in on the joke.

Marcos offers a very small grin and nods his head, "I see."

"So," she continues as she gets to her feet, "If you do start having weird dreams, especially if they recur, let me know. Or better yet, Zosia. You won't confuse them with the others: these are just dream-dreams, not walking-around-and-meeting-spirits dreams."

Marcos nods and says, "I will be sure to do that."

Shelby says, "Good," and gives her wet pants legs a frown. "Falcon watch, Marcos." She slides up into Crinos and down into lupus in just a handful of heartbeats. The white wolf (still with wet legs, but now she doesn't care as much) snaps her jaws playfully at the other garou before trotting off, disappearing into the steam.

Profile

shelbyrou: (Default)
shelbyrou

May 2012

S M T W T F S
  12345
6789101112
13141516171819
2021 2223242526
2728293031  

Tags

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags

Style Credit