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Maturity? Not so much
It is currently 13:00 Pacific Time on Sun Jan 15 2012.
Currently the moon is in the waning Half (Philodox) Moon phase (55% full).
Great Oak Grove
An enormous oak tree, apparently ancient but unblemished, dominates this grove, awe-inspiring and completely anomalous. Around it, in a forest full of scarred trees, there's a stand of perhaps fifty which are a little less scarred than the rest, only a couple miles north of I-90. Naturally occurring thickets of tangled briars and undergrowth have been encouraged to define the perimeter of the grove, to such an extent that it's only really feasible to enter it at a few points now, and for the most part, since the grove itself is not large, it is - from the outside - simply a dense bit of forest it's easier to circle around than go through, although a deer path and stray tracks of other animals lead inside.
Within that perimeter, there is a strong sense of a defined space which the brambled edges and even the central tree are insufficient to explain: for unclear reasons, although the density of trees is just the same here as in the rest of the forest, this spot is a coherent place in its own right. There is more sun, more scent - although only the small woodland scents. The trees are taller and healthier, the soil is richer, and the air itself seems alert to what occurs within. This is not remotely the center of the northern forest, but it is nevertheless its heart.
Food for the animals is scattered on the ground and hung in tree branches - nuts and berries from the rest of the forest, half-cleaned bones, and more. In the west there is a small pool, and in the south a disused fire-pit with tiny glittering things hung from the tree branches above it.
Obvious exits:
Forest
The dusting of snow doesn't look like it will stay, though the cold temperatures have allowed it to remain for the moment. Tim is sitting lotus style on his prayer rug in the center of ther Great Oak Grove, shoeless and without a jacket or even a sweater, just a short-sleeved, white tee of No Fear extration. He looks perfectly comfortable despite the lack of winter attire, and more rested than he has in days, as well as freshly showered. His eyes are closed, but he's working through his mala one bead at a time, murmuring under his breath.
A chuff marks Bright Eyes's entrance, her ears flattening a moment on spotting Tim - or, more precisely, his hands. You are always petting them, she grumbles, more to herself than for public consumption, and trots over to claim territory riiiight on the edge of his blanket. Technically she's not even touching it, if you don't count how guard hairs overlay the boundaries. She curls up, tail flipping over her nose, and settles in to wait with a sigh.
Tim opens one eye, to peer at Bright Eyes, then closes it, finishes off his verse, and opens both. "It's good for the spirit," he informs her in a tone that would be lofty, except for how he wouldn't know lofty even if it gave a proper introduction complete with lineage. "I got your text."
Bright Eyes swivels an ear, then looks at him properly, much as a Golden Retriever might react when someone says 'WALK'. Your spirit is fine. She stands to shift back to homid, whereupon she crouches rather than entrusting her jeans to the wonders of new-fallen snow. "And? What do you think? I'm right, right? That pregnant woman has to be Wasp!"
"Okay okay, let's back up," Tim says, holding up a hand. "Remember, I just opened the sunbridge--I didn't get to go, or anything. I didn't get any dreams before-hand, but I figure that's because I was just a conduit, right?" He tucks his beads into his bag. "You said something about 'it's coming'. What did you mean about that?"
"Wasp," Shelby repeats, with a touch of exasperation. "After the Great Hunt!" Honestly, why is she having to explain such basic concepts? Seeing blankness still she grimaces and wraps her arms about her knees and takes a deliberate breath. "After the Great Hunt. I got a dream. It was Wasp and the other sister. And Wasp said "It is coming" and something else, except all I could hear was the sound of wings. Remember?"
"No, I don't, but I did have a hell of a summer," Tim admits, looking only a little apologetic. "Okay, so the Wasp that you all helped, you had a dream after the Hunt, and she warned you something was coming." He thinks that over, drumming his fingers on one knee. "Did anyone else have that dream?"
Shelby nods, yes, he's gotten it at last, thank goodness. "And people've said there were Wasps at the Rite of the Winter Winds. Plus she has to be that pregnant woman in orange and black. Those are her colors, or at least they were this summer!"
Tim chews his lip, then snaps his fingers. "Orange and black wasp. I knew that sounded familiar. Tarantula hawks look like that." He holds out his hand so that the thumb and pinky are stretched to the extreme. "About that long. They're not, ah, hive-forming. The Realm ones, I mean; who knows about the spirits." He frowns. "Wait--do you think that means the one you helped is coming here? Or a different one?"
Night's-Shadow is in lupus, and has a fresh scar across his chest. However, that's not as noticable; the fact that the lupus is outright frolicking, which is a sight to see for a Shadow Lord. There's a fresh coating of snow all over him, and he's pouncing at a fallen leaf. Kerthuck. And then, voices! Guh. He jerks his head up, black muzzle coated in snow, and just stares at the two for a moment, tail hanging limply and eyes wide. Oh. Hi.
Shelby eyes his hand with, it cannot be said, admiration, though she looks impressed enough. "Dunno. She said 'they' are coming, so probably she didn't mean more of her. Otherwise it would've been 'we', right? So." Enter the Shadow Lord, and the Fang stands to greet him with a smile, waving the Theurge in. "Xander! We're discussing dreams again, because really, when aren't we? Do you remember who the other sister was, back in the Great Hunt? It was Wasp and somebody else."
Tim blinks at the (not exactly sad) wolf in snow. Shelby's familiarity with the other seems reason enough for him to offer a polite nod of hello and an amused look.
Night's-Shadow looks owlish for a moment, and then shakes himself off, sending snow flying everywhere. He tromps over toward the two. Dragonfly, supplies the theurge. And then, to Tim: Night's-Shadow, fi--second rank theurge of the Shadow Lords. And elder. That last is added as an afterthought.
"Dragonfly!" Shelby seconds, grinning. "That's right. I remember now." She looks from one to the other. "I hadn't realized you two hadn't met before. --But," she continues, continuing an earlier conversation, "it feels like everything is finally falling into place."
"Oh, right, you were there yesterday at the Caern Opening," Tim says, and supplies, for his part, "Tim. New Moon from Owl's Tribe." He explains to Shelby, "Not met outside a big group event, I don't think," then surveys her. "So--wasps, or a powerful Wasp, are coming, and the Caern, really the whole Bawn, is being walled off. And some of the dreams have been indicating we need to be prepared for what's to come."
Night's-Shadow shifts up as he heads over, and he's dressed in a thick leather coat and still manages to look cold three seconds after he shifts. Mmf. "--Did you see the rest of the opening?" he asks Shelby, suddenly looking a bit grumpy, though not at either of them. "They said we're gonna lose the caern."
"I don't think Wasp is coming," Shelby denies, but offers Xander a wry part-grin as he joins them. "No, I didn't go. But--." She looks from one man to the other again, looking more as if something's been confirmed. "That makes sense. It makes sense with everything I've heard, and what the cards have told me. Something is coming, something big, something we can't stop, and our best plan is to try and survive, not try and fight it. Don't try to ride out the hurricane in place, but evacuate to somewhere safer."
Tim, on the other hand, is shoeless and in a t-shirt, and yet looks completely comfortable. There's not even a hint of goosebumps on his arms. "Well, the woman in the dream was in orange and black, and traveling to a place with shelter and safety, and a feast. If she's meant to be a Wasp, then definitely the Caern's got what she'd need." He gestures at Shelby. "For sure we shouldn't be getting in the way. If your dream was about 'them' and not 'it', then whatever's coming isn't coming alone."
"I--" Xander hesitates, and then flumps down gracelessly nearby the two, sitting crosslegged and tugging his hands into his sleeves. "I've had some weird dreams lately. Unbalancing. Things I'm not sure are real, on waking. They're just..." He waves his sleeve-hands, trying to grab at words, failing. He plops them back in his lap, shrugging. "I don't know. I don't like this. There's change coming."
"Maybe," says Shelby, though she doesn't sound convinced. "What would a... a tarantula wasp and a dragonfly be scared of? What are their predators, I mean? I should have done more research this summer." She makes a face at herself, or her lack of studiousness, and circles around to lay a tentative hand on the Lord's shoulder. "Change isn't always bad, though. And it isn't like we aren't getting plenty of warning. We just have to stop running around like crazy people, and /think/." She adds after a flash of a grin at Tim, "I met a Get the other day who was grumbling she couldn't just attack whatever this was. But all our problems aren't that easy, unfortunately."
"Sounds like a Get for you," Tim mutters, rolling his eyes. He reaches down to smooth the lines of the prayer rug. "Not sure that either of those have predators, except maybe certain kinds of bird." After some thought, he says, "Something I *did* notice that we might want to look into. A while back, I found graffiti in the city about 'Ol Je'. Looked like it had been cut off. I'm thinking it was maybe about Jeb--the guy we saw."
Xander doesn't shrug the hand off, but nor does he lean into it, though he does shoot a small smile towards Shelby. "--birds," he says, huffing a sigh. "And I guess not. But it isn't always good, either. I've just had this... uneasy feeling for awhile. I haven't had a good night's sleep in weeks." He frowns. "At least I'm not a freaking plant anymore." Grumble. "And yeah, it might've been," he says to Tim. "I just don't know what we can do to help him. It's not exactly like he asked us for a small task, you know?"
"Wait, who's this Jeb?" Shelby would very much like to know. She moves a few feet to where she can see both men at once and spends a few moments brushing snow from her chosen area while saying, "Argh - this is... I mean, I want to talk to you guys about totems and things, but this is important too. Except I have this feeling that the more packs we have to help with... with whatever this is, the better. So what do we concentrate on, us or it?" She drops into her spot, distinctly irritated.
Tim arches an eyebrow at Shelby. "It can be both. But about Jeb: when we did the Opening and followed--well, I was following a grackle, it's a kind of bird, not sure what everyone else saw--anyways, it lead us, into? The Caern, or something. And we crossed the Columbia in a ferry, and it was like were in the past of the area, hundreds of years ago. And we met a guy named Jeb. And he explained that some of the questions folks keep asking--how do we stop it, especially--are the wrong ones, and that he wanted the city's spirit restored to his vision of it." He nods towards the city. "Now, I looked this guy up in the library--turns out he's considered a founder of the city. So why was I seeing graffiti about him? What kinda tagger gives a shit about that? So maybe we should see if there's more, and see if it's not just random chance. See if it's connected."
"Mine was a little lizard," Xander says, holding his fingers yay apart to demonstrate just how little it was - about four inches. "It had a thingy on its neck. That poofed out." He clears his throat, though, realizing this isn't what the conversation is about. Ahem. "I don't know. Maybe he's trying to make himself known? I mean... he's an important part of the city. I bet he has an umbral reflection, and sometimes those reflections want things to stay like they were when they were alive. Kind of like ghosts, but not. Because of that, he could be influencing things. People. Us. Other spirits."
Xander does break from his ramble to look a little sheepish at Shelby. "Um. I could talk totems too. Whichever."
"Maybe he's a City Father," the Fang suggests, with a little shrug. "I mean, there aren't a lot of them, and mostly back at Sunlit Waters they talked about Paris, London, and Chicago, but why couldn't St. Claire have a City Father too? So that's," a nod to Tim, "why you're seeing graffiti, 'cause he's influencing them somehow. It makes sense, I think. Well. The most sense, and Occam's Razor, and all that." She adds, after a beat, "I still think we'd be suited for a Dragonfly pack, especially if those things the Walkers were saying are true."
Tim thinks over what Xander has said, and nods. "Well, if we're gonna wind up spending more time in the city, we'll want to know more about him to know what we're dealing with, if nothing else." He considers Shelby. "Dragonfly would mean wooded territory, though, pretty sure. Not that I mind that. Most of the Wisdom Totems work for me." He gives both Fostern a measuring look. "And there's always the Triune Goddess."
"I like Otter," Xander says, in a way that suggests his brain is a million miles away in thought. And then, he snaps back to it. "But. Yes. The Triune Goddess is good, but she usually comes in three forms. Do you both know of all of them? Usually only one comes to you."
"There are trees in Harbor Park," the Fang points out with a smile just a little too innocent to be true. "Triune Goddess is War too, isn't she?" She considers Xander first, then Tim. "I don't know, wouldn't she like a pack with more... fighters in it?"
Tim peers at Xander, shaking his head. "That's not how my mom described it. You dedicate yourself to one of her aspects. You can change that--because your life, it changes, right? But you've got to stick with a given aspect for a spell. I don't remember how long it was, though. She was a Maiden under her initially, and switched to the Crone later." His mouth twitches in a smile. "That was after she had me, she said." His eyes dance with amusement, though it's a black humor. "It is a war Totem. And probably the only one I can deal with. But War Totems aren't just for fighters--hell, if you think about it, what does a fighter bring to a war Totem? But a war Totem brings a lot to those who aren't always in the fray."
Xander tilts his head a bit. "I've never packed under her. But. The maiden is fierce, the mother is experienced, a guardian, and strong in empathy, and the crone is wise." He considers. "That may be. I've always heard one aspect chooses you, but maybe you're right. I'd take the word of someone who's actually packed under her over just... stuff I've heard." He smiles crookedly at Shelby. "Sometimes. Depends on the totem. My first pack was under Wyvern... that was an... interesting... experience."
Shelby draws her knees up, arms wrapping about them. "None of that really sounds like me." It's not a complaint, or a refusal, merely an observation. "Maybe you're both sort of right. One aspect picks you, only it can be different for everyone in the pack, but you can change which one you follow later." She shrugs, then tilts a crooked smile toward Xander. "Zosia's first pack was Wyvern too, and now she follows Unicorn. I don't know that you could find two more opposite totems." To Tim again, "So what do you think of Dragonfly? The Walkers were saying something about how we had to clean up the river, and that's right up her alley."
Tim looks askance at Shelby, and comments, "I dunno, the Maiden seems like a good fit." He's not smiling, but he can't keep the obvious implications from his voice. Perhaps to save himself with a topic shift, he then asks Xander, "Is this like, interesting how the Chinese mean it?"
"It just wasn't me," Xander replies to Tim. "I felt like I was... falling, all the time, trying to keep up. Wyvern is... very fierce. And so were my packmates. I just... felt like it wasn't fitting." He sighs, a thought flitting across his mind. "Caused me to take some dumb risks." Ahem.
Roughly about 5'6" or so in height, this Korean kid looks roughly somewhere in his upper teens, perhaps 18 or 19, though he's fairly slight and looks a bit young for his age. However, despite this, he looks confident and comfortable in his skin, given to easy grins and a seemingly good nature. One gets the impression that, while he seems fit and athletic /now/, that probably wasn't always the case; likely a few years of hard work have turned a scrawny kid around.
His hair is thick and black, and cut reasonably short. More often than not it's crammed under a baseball cap (the Red Sox, not the Yankees!), and he's wearing a t-shirt, ranging from plain to decorated with assorted sayings, depending on the day. Athletic shorts are the norm in the summers, the long sort, usually black. Most often, if he's in the city, black flip-flops; in the woods and elsewhere, tennis shoes. He trends more toward casual than not.
Shelby? Shoots a highly dubious Look over at the other Ragabash before turning with near-relief to Xander. "Yes. That's what I'm a... worried about, with a War pack. I mean, look at us. Two Ragabash and a Theurge. I can't help but think any War totem would take one look and fall over in a laughing fit. I mean, I'm a scout. I play distract-a-foe and slip in from the back to hamstring while the meat shield is in front keeping them busy. We don't -have- a meat shield."
"Right," Tim says to Xander, in a tone of agreement which also promises no further prying. Rolling a piece of rug fringe in his fingers, he continues, "That's really not how War Totems work. Well--not all of them. Not having someone to rally around and take the big blows, sure, it's a problem, but it's a problem no matter *what* your Pack Totem is. Otherwise, how many War Totems would have blademoons and scouts? None of them. I say this as a guy who probably couldn't Pack under most of them. Just, that one, because of it's focus, would work. Now," he lets go the fringe and gestures, "I'm perfectly good for most of the Wisdom Totems. Dragonfly included--but cleaning up the River, that's not a one Pack job. One Pack can spearhead it or be a go-to, for sure, and it wouldn't be a bad focus in the least."
"Right," says Xander. "And it's not a job that could be done fast, either. It'd likely be an ... ongoing project." He looks down, picking at a stray string on his sleeve. "-- Dragonfly is hard to get, too."
Shelby shrugs at Tim, grimaces. "Not like I have any experience being on the inside of a Pack." He lets go of fringe and her fingers pluck at the hem of her jeans. "It would help if I had Zosia's resources, or Tristan's...." but that's not a path she's going to follow any further. "Anyway, you're right. It isn't a one Pack job. Might not even be a one Sept job. It's the Columbia, not some tiny mountain spring somewhere." She grimaces at Xander, too, though this time it's more playful. "You keep saying that. Can we take it as given, please?"
"Doesn't make it not worth getting people behind it," Tim assures Shelby. He looks between the the other two. "There's another option. We go into the ritual with an open mind, and a Totem finds us. We could wind up with a bit of a wildcard, there--but if I've understood the Theurges right, we're not gonna wind up with one we don't want." He focuses on Xander, now sounding like he's in uncertain territory. "A Totem we don't want and can't form a Pack under isn't going to come for us. It might not be what we expect, though."
Xander, maturity incarnate, sticks his tongue out at Shelby. "I'm just saying." Hrmph! He grins, though. "Well. You can end up with stuff that's unexpected, but if it chooses you--" Xander shrugs. "It means that it thinks you're a fit."
Eyes gone big and vapid, her tone breathy and excited, Shelby exclaims. "Bison! Bison is the one for me! --Unfortunately," she goes on, blinking back to normal, "he hates you two. So. No Bison for us. I think, not that it's probably going to matter, that we do both. Go in asking for a couple of Totems specifically, but also say we're willing to just be chosen by whoever thinks we'd be a good fit." She shivers deeper into her coat. "Now that The Crew is broken up, Salem-r, Salem might be interested in packing."
Tim rolls his eyes at Shelby. "I'm sure he loves you more than he can say," he drawls, then sobers. "Salem's good people, and I wouldn't mind. Though, he's..." He hesitates, then admits, "I don't think he'll be one for a Wisdom Totem, to be honest."
"Don't know him," Xander says, but doesn't seem opposed. "Anyway, yeah, I'm fine with going in blind. I don't think that's a bad thing. We'd need to find someone with the Rite, though..."
Shelby flutters her eyes at Tim, her Hero. "All we can do is ask," she points out. "If he says no, he says no. I'd love to have Meg or Chandini with me too, as long as we're talking theoretical. --Anyway, I'm sure if Zosia doesn't know the Rite, she knows who does." She pauses then, struck by a thought. "Should we... we should go ahead with this, shouldn't we. I mean, sooner's better than later."
"Mouse knows it," Tim says immediately. "She did it for us last time. I suspect Norman does too."
"Yes," Xander says, emphatically. "I mean, we can play the whole Pokemon 'I choose you!' game with spirits all day long, but ultimately... they end up choosing you most the time, anyway."
"So we ask Mouse, or Norman," Shelby decides, "and check with Zosia... though really, considering the state of the bawn and the Caern, we might not want to do it there. And whoever's next in town visiting the Walkers can leave a message for Salem."
"Sounds good." Tim reaches over to fetch his coat and slip it on. "I'll find Norman, see if he's up for it?"
"Works for me," Xander says. "I haven't been to the city lately, though, because I don't really have a place to stay there. So someone else might want to stop by."
Shelby moues at the Lord. "I don't have a place in town either, but it doesn't stop me from dropping by. You know where their Tenement is, right?" She sends a nod Tim's way. "Though his version of the rite is likely to have us all bleeding at some point," she adds wryly.
"Maybe that's what we should do," Xander says, wryly. "Get a shack in the city and make it fancy so we do have a place to stay there."
Tim bobs his eyebrows at Shelby. "Mouse's did." It seems like a dare. "A city hangout wouldn't be a bad idea--maybe an apartment, or something, if we can find one we could afford."
Shelby meets the Strider's quasi-dare head on. "Actually, I met a man last week who used to have an apartment overlooking Harbor Park. He said it was pretty roach-infested, but it had a great view." So there, hah. "And I don't have much money, but I do have some from my parents. I don't know how far it would go toward an apartment, though."
"I have some saved up. About ... um, maybe eight hundred or so. I've been saving it." Xander smiles crookedly, though. "I wouldn't mind getting back in the city at least somewhat, though. Though it's harder for me to be around humans than it used to be."
"So we need to find a Kin to mooch off, is what you're saying..." Tim says, looking overhead at the trees around them. "That's maybe doable, if we just cultivate some friends. Which I could work on, once we know what we're looking at and where our territory would be."
Shelby makes an ish face but nods, reluctantly. "Eight hundred would probably be one month's rent. Not that I'm dissing that - it would take me a few months to come up with even that much. I suppose I could sell my car, but." Clearly this is something she is not thrilled about doing. "Tristan might be willing, but that would come with a side order of Zosia being filthy rich, and really, I got enough of that back at Sunlit Waters."
"Yeah, it took me awhile. Part of that was money saved up for my move." Xander rubs the back of his neck. "I mean, finding the first month's rent is great and all, but we'd need a steady income to keep it. Also, applying for the damn thing. Would be better to have a kin do it for us. I think if I went in and said 'I want an apartment' they'd call the cops on me before they'd show me anything." He frowns. "Besides, I don't even have a driver's license anymore. My old fake one had the date on it expire."
Tim waves aside any notions of Zosia's help. "No, no--better we figure it out on our own. I could see if any of my dad's relatives are interested in a move up north here." He glances at Xander, saying, "I've got a Walker friend who can help with that," then asks Shelby, "You have any relatives who're bored of the East Cost?"
Shelby fiddles with the hem of her jeans again. "Could talk to the Walkers about that - needing a new fake license, I mean. If this were back at Sunlit Waters I could probably help with that, but I don't know anyone around here. --Mmm... maybe? Assorted cousins and such. I could always ask. There's a Molyneaux who was making noises about wanting to see California when I was there last. Or David Wojciechowski. I think he's going to graduate college this year. We dated for a while."
"Yeah, that'd be handy," Xander replies to Tim. "I need something." To the talk of relatives, he clams up, just listening.
"I'll talk to him, see what he can do. Did you want like, a real record of existing, or just a good fake ID?" Tim nods his head to the east. "He's out in Portland, so he could even make it like, an Oregon ID, if you wanted to layer on the obfuscation."
Tim adds, to Shelby, "Maybe put out some feelers, see if anyone's interested."
"That's why we've got cell phones!" she agrees, with a nod to each of them. "All right. They wouldn't even have to come out here, so long as they would be willing to funnel money into an account. I'll ask. My family isn't one of the rich Silver Fang ones, but maybe if I play the assorted grandparents...," the thought dies almost immediately. "No, that wouldn't work. They don't like each other, but they still talk."
"A good fake ID," Xander says, immediately. "I'm fine with whatever state, just something that says I'm legal. I don't even care what name he uses, just preferably not like... 'John Smith' or anything. At least vaguely Korean. Or even Japanese. Or whatever. Not like most people here can tell the difference." He makes a face, but it's not particularly serious.
Tim's expression has nothing but sympathy for Xander. "I'll tell him to make it proper. Ujio'll know how to make it stick." He blinks at Shelby, clearly not having thought of just funneling money. "I think that's less likely to work for my dad's people, but if you have anyone willing to do it, well..."
"I'll ask," she says again with a nod. "I mean, despite what some people think not every Silver Fang has a Scrooge McDuck swimming room, but." She grins at both of them, the brilliant one that lights her face and makes her look her age. "I feel even better about this Pack than I did the last one, and I really thought the last one was going to work. Thank you both for being who you are."
Xander grins at Tim, a touch relieved. "Thanks," he says, and then looks amused at Shelby. "I think if I wasn't, that'd be weird. Oh--" he adds, eyeing them both. "Also. I'd really rather not be heading this thing up, so I leave that to you two to decide."
Tim gives Shelby an opaque look that seems intended to conceal embarrassment. At Xander's comment on leadership, he looks a bit more smug. "Well. Maybe we can race for it."
Shelby's return look to Tim is bland, bland, bland. But as Xander chimes in about leadership she promptly says, "Not it!" and looks smug. "Guess you and that pesky Adren rank are going to have to suffer, Tim-rhya. Or should we call you Mister-Golden-Sir-rhya?"
Xander looks amused. "If we raced for it, I'd 'trip'. You watch me. Besides, I'm ... a lot better when I can do my auspice things without worrying about leadership, so--yeah. I'm fine with the highest rank taking it."
Tim rolls his eyes. It's like he's not even a day older than either of them. "Right. Anyways. In as much as we need a leader, I'll defer to the lack of desire of others." He looks up at the darkening sky. "I'm gonna get across, and go sit with Chu'mana a spell. Then I'll see about finding Norman."
Shelby sticks her tongue out, so there. "I'm going to go start sweet-talking my relatives," she decides, not even bothering to get to her feet before shifting into a four-footed model. Shaking out her ruff, she mock-lunges at Tim before giving Xander a wave of her tail. Night's Shadow. Run with me?
Xander shifts to lupus at Shelby's request, and wuffs a farewell at Tim. Be well. See you soon. And then he gives a playful nip at the back of Shelby's heel, springing to the side. Race the snow!
Bright Eyes yelps, so injured! and dashes off, pausing only to see if she can hit Tim in the back of the knees and take him down.
Tim swats at Shelby--not fast enough to connect, though if that's by design or not is unclear--and gets up. Ignoring the snow under his feet, he rolls up his prayer rug and stows it, shoulders his bag, and shifts to lupus. Road rise to meet you both. He huffs, sending a cold cloud into the air, and slips across the Gauntlet into the Umbra.
Currently the moon is in the waning Half (Philodox) Moon phase (55% full).
Great Oak Grove
An enormous oak tree, apparently ancient but unblemished, dominates this grove, awe-inspiring and completely anomalous. Around it, in a forest full of scarred trees, there's a stand of perhaps fifty which are a little less scarred than the rest, only a couple miles north of I-90. Naturally occurring thickets of tangled briars and undergrowth have been encouraged to define the perimeter of the grove, to such an extent that it's only really feasible to enter it at a few points now, and for the most part, since the grove itself is not large, it is - from the outside - simply a dense bit of forest it's easier to circle around than go through, although a deer path and stray tracks of other animals lead inside.
Within that perimeter, there is a strong sense of a defined space which the brambled edges and even the central tree are insufficient to explain: for unclear reasons, although the density of trees is just the same here as in the rest of the forest, this spot is a coherent place in its own right. There is more sun, more scent - although only the small woodland scents. The trees are taller and healthier, the soil is richer, and the air itself seems alert to what occurs within. This is not remotely the center of the northern forest, but it is nevertheless its heart.
Food for the animals is scattered on the ground and hung in tree branches - nuts and berries from the rest of the forest, half-cleaned bones, and more. In the west there is a small pool, and in the south a disused fire-pit with tiny glittering things hung from the tree branches above it.
Obvious exits:
Forest
The dusting of snow doesn't look like it will stay, though the cold temperatures have allowed it to remain for the moment. Tim is sitting lotus style on his prayer rug in the center of ther Great Oak Grove, shoeless and without a jacket or even a sweater, just a short-sleeved, white tee of No Fear extration. He looks perfectly comfortable despite the lack of winter attire, and more rested than he has in days, as well as freshly showered. His eyes are closed, but he's working through his mala one bead at a time, murmuring under his breath.
A chuff marks Bright Eyes's entrance, her ears flattening a moment on spotting Tim - or, more precisely, his hands. You are always petting them, she grumbles, more to herself than for public consumption, and trots over to claim territory riiiight on the edge of his blanket. Technically she's not even touching it, if you don't count how guard hairs overlay the boundaries. She curls up, tail flipping over her nose, and settles in to wait with a sigh.
Tim opens one eye, to peer at Bright Eyes, then closes it, finishes off his verse, and opens both. "It's good for the spirit," he informs her in a tone that would be lofty, except for how he wouldn't know lofty even if it gave a proper introduction complete with lineage. "I got your text."
Bright Eyes swivels an ear, then looks at him properly, much as a Golden Retriever might react when someone says 'WALK'. Your spirit is fine. She stands to shift back to homid, whereupon she crouches rather than entrusting her jeans to the wonders of new-fallen snow. "And? What do you think? I'm right, right? That pregnant woman has to be Wasp!"
"Okay okay, let's back up," Tim says, holding up a hand. "Remember, I just opened the sunbridge--I didn't get to go, or anything. I didn't get any dreams before-hand, but I figure that's because I was just a conduit, right?" He tucks his beads into his bag. "You said something about 'it's coming'. What did you mean about that?"
"Wasp," Shelby repeats, with a touch of exasperation. "After the Great Hunt!" Honestly, why is she having to explain such basic concepts? Seeing blankness still she grimaces and wraps her arms about her knees and takes a deliberate breath. "After the Great Hunt. I got a dream. It was Wasp and the other sister. And Wasp said "It is coming" and something else, except all I could hear was the sound of wings. Remember?"
"No, I don't, but I did have a hell of a summer," Tim admits, looking only a little apologetic. "Okay, so the Wasp that you all helped, you had a dream after the Hunt, and she warned you something was coming." He thinks that over, drumming his fingers on one knee. "Did anyone else have that dream?"
Shelby nods, yes, he's gotten it at last, thank goodness. "And people've said there were Wasps at the Rite of the Winter Winds. Plus she has to be that pregnant woman in orange and black. Those are her colors, or at least they were this summer!"
Tim chews his lip, then snaps his fingers. "Orange and black wasp. I knew that sounded familiar. Tarantula hawks look like that." He holds out his hand so that the thumb and pinky are stretched to the extreme. "About that long. They're not, ah, hive-forming. The Realm ones, I mean; who knows about the spirits." He frowns. "Wait--do you think that means the one you helped is coming here? Or a different one?"
Night's-Shadow is in lupus, and has a fresh scar across his chest. However, that's not as noticable; the fact that the lupus is outright frolicking, which is a sight to see for a Shadow Lord. There's a fresh coating of snow all over him, and he's pouncing at a fallen leaf. Kerthuck. And then, voices! Guh. He jerks his head up, black muzzle coated in snow, and just stares at the two for a moment, tail hanging limply and eyes wide. Oh. Hi.
Shelby eyes his hand with, it cannot be said, admiration, though she looks impressed enough. "Dunno. She said 'they' are coming, so probably she didn't mean more of her. Otherwise it would've been 'we', right? So." Enter the Shadow Lord, and the Fang stands to greet him with a smile, waving the Theurge in. "Xander! We're discussing dreams again, because really, when aren't we? Do you remember who the other sister was, back in the Great Hunt? It was Wasp and somebody else."
Tim blinks at the (not exactly sad) wolf in snow. Shelby's familiarity with the other seems reason enough for him to offer a polite nod of hello and an amused look.
Night's-Shadow looks owlish for a moment, and then shakes himself off, sending snow flying everywhere. He tromps over toward the two. Dragonfly, supplies the theurge. And then, to Tim: Night's-Shadow, fi--second rank theurge of the Shadow Lords. And elder. That last is added as an afterthought.
"Dragonfly!" Shelby seconds, grinning. "That's right. I remember now." She looks from one to the other. "I hadn't realized you two hadn't met before. --But," she continues, continuing an earlier conversation, "it feels like everything is finally falling into place."
"Oh, right, you were there yesterday at the Caern Opening," Tim says, and supplies, for his part, "Tim. New Moon from Owl's Tribe." He explains to Shelby, "Not met outside a big group event, I don't think," then surveys her. "So--wasps, or a powerful Wasp, are coming, and the Caern, really the whole Bawn, is being walled off. And some of the dreams have been indicating we need to be prepared for what's to come."
Night's-Shadow shifts up as he heads over, and he's dressed in a thick leather coat and still manages to look cold three seconds after he shifts. Mmf. "--Did you see the rest of the opening?" he asks Shelby, suddenly looking a bit grumpy, though not at either of them. "They said we're gonna lose the caern."
"I don't think Wasp is coming," Shelby denies, but offers Xander a wry part-grin as he joins them. "No, I didn't go. But--." She looks from one man to the other again, looking more as if something's been confirmed. "That makes sense. It makes sense with everything I've heard, and what the cards have told me. Something is coming, something big, something we can't stop, and our best plan is to try and survive, not try and fight it. Don't try to ride out the hurricane in place, but evacuate to somewhere safer."
Tim, on the other hand, is shoeless and in a t-shirt, and yet looks completely comfortable. There's not even a hint of goosebumps on his arms. "Well, the woman in the dream was in orange and black, and traveling to a place with shelter and safety, and a feast. If she's meant to be a Wasp, then definitely the Caern's got what she'd need." He gestures at Shelby. "For sure we shouldn't be getting in the way. If your dream was about 'them' and not 'it', then whatever's coming isn't coming alone."
"I--" Xander hesitates, and then flumps down gracelessly nearby the two, sitting crosslegged and tugging his hands into his sleeves. "I've had some weird dreams lately. Unbalancing. Things I'm not sure are real, on waking. They're just..." He waves his sleeve-hands, trying to grab at words, failing. He plops them back in his lap, shrugging. "I don't know. I don't like this. There's change coming."
"Maybe," says Shelby, though she doesn't sound convinced. "What would a... a tarantula wasp and a dragonfly be scared of? What are their predators, I mean? I should have done more research this summer." She makes a face at herself, or her lack of studiousness, and circles around to lay a tentative hand on the Lord's shoulder. "Change isn't always bad, though. And it isn't like we aren't getting plenty of warning. We just have to stop running around like crazy people, and /think/." She adds after a flash of a grin at Tim, "I met a Get the other day who was grumbling she couldn't just attack whatever this was. But all our problems aren't that easy, unfortunately."
"Sounds like a Get for you," Tim mutters, rolling his eyes. He reaches down to smooth the lines of the prayer rug. "Not sure that either of those have predators, except maybe certain kinds of bird." After some thought, he says, "Something I *did* notice that we might want to look into. A while back, I found graffiti in the city about 'Ol Je'. Looked like it had been cut off. I'm thinking it was maybe about Jeb--the guy we saw."
Xander doesn't shrug the hand off, but nor does he lean into it, though he does shoot a small smile towards Shelby. "--birds," he says, huffing a sigh. "And I guess not. But it isn't always good, either. I've just had this... uneasy feeling for awhile. I haven't had a good night's sleep in weeks." He frowns. "At least I'm not a freaking plant anymore." Grumble. "And yeah, it might've been," he says to Tim. "I just don't know what we can do to help him. It's not exactly like he asked us for a small task, you know?"
"Wait, who's this Jeb?" Shelby would very much like to know. She moves a few feet to where she can see both men at once and spends a few moments brushing snow from her chosen area while saying, "Argh - this is... I mean, I want to talk to you guys about totems and things, but this is important too. Except I have this feeling that the more packs we have to help with... with whatever this is, the better. So what do we concentrate on, us or it?" She drops into her spot, distinctly irritated.
Tim arches an eyebrow at Shelby. "It can be both. But about Jeb: when we did the Opening and followed--well, I was following a grackle, it's a kind of bird, not sure what everyone else saw--anyways, it lead us, into? The Caern, or something. And we crossed the Columbia in a ferry, and it was like were in the past of the area, hundreds of years ago. And we met a guy named Jeb. And he explained that some of the questions folks keep asking--how do we stop it, especially--are the wrong ones, and that he wanted the city's spirit restored to his vision of it." He nods towards the city. "Now, I looked this guy up in the library--turns out he's considered a founder of the city. So why was I seeing graffiti about him? What kinda tagger gives a shit about that? So maybe we should see if there's more, and see if it's not just random chance. See if it's connected."
"Mine was a little lizard," Xander says, holding his fingers yay apart to demonstrate just how little it was - about four inches. "It had a thingy on its neck. That poofed out." He clears his throat, though, realizing this isn't what the conversation is about. Ahem. "I don't know. Maybe he's trying to make himself known? I mean... he's an important part of the city. I bet he has an umbral reflection, and sometimes those reflections want things to stay like they were when they were alive. Kind of like ghosts, but not. Because of that, he could be influencing things. People. Us. Other spirits."
Xander does break from his ramble to look a little sheepish at Shelby. "Um. I could talk totems too. Whichever."
"Maybe he's a City Father," the Fang suggests, with a little shrug. "I mean, there aren't a lot of them, and mostly back at Sunlit Waters they talked about Paris, London, and Chicago, but why couldn't St. Claire have a City Father too? So that's," a nod to Tim, "why you're seeing graffiti, 'cause he's influencing them somehow. It makes sense, I think. Well. The most sense, and Occam's Razor, and all that." She adds, after a beat, "I still think we'd be suited for a Dragonfly pack, especially if those things the Walkers were saying are true."
Tim thinks over what Xander has said, and nods. "Well, if we're gonna wind up spending more time in the city, we'll want to know more about him to know what we're dealing with, if nothing else." He considers Shelby. "Dragonfly would mean wooded territory, though, pretty sure. Not that I mind that. Most of the Wisdom Totems work for me." He gives both Fostern a measuring look. "And there's always the Triune Goddess."
"I like Otter," Xander says, in a way that suggests his brain is a million miles away in thought. And then, he snaps back to it. "But. Yes. The Triune Goddess is good, but she usually comes in three forms. Do you both know of all of them? Usually only one comes to you."
"There are trees in Harbor Park," the Fang points out with a smile just a little too innocent to be true. "Triune Goddess is War too, isn't she?" She considers Xander first, then Tim. "I don't know, wouldn't she like a pack with more... fighters in it?"
Tim peers at Xander, shaking his head. "That's not how my mom described it. You dedicate yourself to one of her aspects. You can change that--because your life, it changes, right? But you've got to stick with a given aspect for a spell. I don't remember how long it was, though. She was a Maiden under her initially, and switched to the Crone later." His mouth twitches in a smile. "That was after she had me, she said." His eyes dance with amusement, though it's a black humor. "It is a war Totem. And probably the only one I can deal with. But War Totems aren't just for fighters--hell, if you think about it, what does a fighter bring to a war Totem? But a war Totem brings a lot to those who aren't always in the fray."
Xander tilts his head a bit. "I've never packed under her. But. The maiden is fierce, the mother is experienced, a guardian, and strong in empathy, and the crone is wise." He considers. "That may be. I've always heard one aspect chooses you, but maybe you're right. I'd take the word of someone who's actually packed under her over just... stuff I've heard." He smiles crookedly at Shelby. "Sometimes. Depends on the totem. My first pack was under Wyvern... that was an... interesting... experience."
Shelby draws her knees up, arms wrapping about them. "None of that really sounds like me." It's not a complaint, or a refusal, merely an observation. "Maybe you're both sort of right. One aspect picks you, only it can be different for everyone in the pack, but you can change which one you follow later." She shrugs, then tilts a crooked smile toward Xander. "Zosia's first pack was Wyvern too, and now she follows Unicorn. I don't know that you could find two more opposite totems." To Tim again, "So what do you think of Dragonfly? The Walkers were saying something about how we had to clean up the river, and that's right up her alley."
Tim looks askance at Shelby, and comments, "I dunno, the Maiden seems like a good fit." He's not smiling, but he can't keep the obvious implications from his voice. Perhaps to save himself with a topic shift, he then asks Xander, "Is this like, interesting how the Chinese mean it?"
"It just wasn't me," Xander replies to Tim. "I felt like I was... falling, all the time, trying to keep up. Wyvern is... very fierce. And so were my packmates. I just... felt like it wasn't fitting." He sighs, a thought flitting across his mind. "Caused me to take some dumb risks." Ahem.
Roughly about 5'6" or so in height, this Korean kid looks roughly somewhere in his upper teens, perhaps 18 or 19, though he's fairly slight and looks a bit young for his age. However, despite this, he looks confident and comfortable in his skin, given to easy grins and a seemingly good nature. One gets the impression that, while he seems fit and athletic /now/, that probably wasn't always the case; likely a few years of hard work have turned a scrawny kid around.
His hair is thick and black, and cut reasonably short. More often than not it's crammed under a baseball cap (the Red Sox, not the Yankees!), and he's wearing a t-shirt, ranging from plain to decorated with assorted sayings, depending on the day. Athletic shorts are the norm in the summers, the long sort, usually black. Most often, if he's in the city, black flip-flops; in the woods and elsewhere, tennis shoes. He trends more toward casual than not.
Shelby? Shoots a highly dubious Look over at the other Ragabash before turning with near-relief to Xander. "Yes. That's what I'm a... worried about, with a War pack. I mean, look at us. Two Ragabash and a Theurge. I can't help but think any War totem would take one look and fall over in a laughing fit. I mean, I'm a scout. I play distract-a-foe and slip in from the back to hamstring while the meat shield is in front keeping them busy. We don't -have- a meat shield."
"Right," Tim says to Xander, in a tone of agreement which also promises no further prying. Rolling a piece of rug fringe in his fingers, he continues, "That's really not how War Totems work. Well--not all of them. Not having someone to rally around and take the big blows, sure, it's a problem, but it's a problem no matter *what* your Pack Totem is. Otherwise, how many War Totems would have blademoons and scouts? None of them. I say this as a guy who probably couldn't Pack under most of them. Just, that one, because of it's focus, would work. Now," he lets go the fringe and gestures, "I'm perfectly good for most of the Wisdom Totems. Dragonfly included--but cleaning up the River, that's not a one Pack job. One Pack can spearhead it or be a go-to, for sure, and it wouldn't be a bad focus in the least."
"Right," says Xander. "And it's not a job that could be done fast, either. It'd likely be an ... ongoing project." He looks down, picking at a stray string on his sleeve. "-- Dragonfly is hard to get, too."
Shelby shrugs at Tim, grimaces. "Not like I have any experience being on the inside of a Pack." He lets go of fringe and her fingers pluck at the hem of her jeans. "It would help if I had Zosia's resources, or Tristan's...." but that's not a path she's going to follow any further. "Anyway, you're right. It isn't a one Pack job. Might not even be a one Sept job. It's the Columbia, not some tiny mountain spring somewhere." She grimaces at Xander, too, though this time it's more playful. "You keep saying that. Can we take it as given, please?"
"Doesn't make it not worth getting people behind it," Tim assures Shelby. He looks between the the other two. "There's another option. We go into the ritual with an open mind, and a Totem finds us. We could wind up with a bit of a wildcard, there--but if I've understood the Theurges right, we're not gonna wind up with one we don't want." He focuses on Xander, now sounding like he's in uncertain territory. "A Totem we don't want and can't form a Pack under isn't going to come for us. It might not be what we expect, though."
Xander, maturity incarnate, sticks his tongue out at Shelby. "I'm just saying." Hrmph! He grins, though. "Well. You can end up with stuff that's unexpected, but if it chooses you--" Xander shrugs. "It means that it thinks you're a fit."
Eyes gone big and vapid, her tone breathy and excited, Shelby exclaims. "Bison! Bison is the one for me! --Unfortunately," she goes on, blinking back to normal, "he hates you two. So. No Bison for us. I think, not that it's probably going to matter, that we do both. Go in asking for a couple of Totems specifically, but also say we're willing to just be chosen by whoever thinks we'd be a good fit." She shivers deeper into her coat. "Now that The Crew is broken up, Salem-r, Salem might be interested in packing."
Tim rolls his eyes at Shelby. "I'm sure he loves you more than he can say," he drawls, then sobers. "Salem's good people, and I wouldn't mind. Though, he's..." He hesitates, then admits, "I don't think he'll be one for a Wisdom Totem, to be honest."
"Don't know him," Xander says, but doesn't seem opposed. "Anyway, yeah, I'm fine with going in blind. I don't think that's a bad thing. We'd need to find someone with the Rite, though..."
Shelby flutters her eyes at Tim, her Hero. "All we can do is ask," she points out. "If he says no, he says no. I'd love to have Meg or Chandini with me too, as long as we're talking theoretical. --Anyway, I'm sure if Zosia doesn't know the Rite, she knows who does." She pauses then, struck by a thought. "Should we... we should go ahead with this, shouldn't we. I mean, sooner's better than later."
"Mouse knows it," Tim says immediately. "She did it for us last time. I suspect Norman does too."
"Yes," Xander says, emphatically. "I mean, we can play the whole Pokemon 'I choose you!' game with spirits all day long, but ultimately... they end up choosing you most the time, anyway."
"So we ask Mouse, or Norman," Shelby decides, "and check with Zosia... though really, considering the state of the bawn and the Caern, we might not want to do it there. And whoever's next in town visiting the Walkers can leave a message for Salem."
"Sounds good." Tim reaches over to fetch his coat and slip it on. "I'll find Norman, see if he's up for it?"
"Works for me," Xander says. "I haven't been to the city lately, though, because I don't really have a place to stay there. So someone else might want to stop by."
Shelby moues at the Lord. "I don't have a place in town either, but it doesn't stop me from dropping by. You know where their Tenement is, right?" She sends a nod Tim's way. "Though his version of the rite is likely to have us all bleeding at some point," she adds wryly.
"Maybe that's what we should do," Xander says, wryly. "Get a shack in the city and make it fancy so we do have a place to stay there."
Tim bobs his eyebrows at Shelby. "Mouse's did." It seems like a dare. "A city hangout wouldn't be a bad idea--maybe an apartment, or something, if we can find one we could afford."
Shelby meets the Strider's quasi-dare head on. "Actually, I met a man last week who used to have an apartment overlooking Harbor Park. He said it was pretty roach-infested, but it had a great view." So there, hah. "And I don't have much money, but I do have some from my parents. I don't know how far it would go toward an apartment, though."
"I have some saved up. About ... um, maybe eight hundred or so. I've been saving it." Xander smiles crookedly, though. "I wouldn't mind getting back in the city at least somewhat, though. Though it's harder for me to be around humans than it used to be."
"So we need to find a Kin to mooch off, is what you're saying..." Tim says, looking overhead at the trees around them. "That's maybe doable, if we just cultivate some friends. Which I could work on, once we know what we're looking at and where our territory would be."
Shelby makes an ish face but nods, reluctantly. "Eight hundred would probably be one month's rent. Not that I'm dissing that - it would take me a few months to come up with even that much. I suppose I could sell my car, but." Clearly this is something she is not thrilled about doing. "Tristan might be willing, but that would come with a side order of Zosia being filthy rich, and really, I got enough of that back at Sunlit Waters."
"Yeah, it took me awhile. Part of that was money saved up for my move." Xander rubs the back of his neck. "I mean, finding the first month's rent is great and all, but we'd need a steady income to keep it. Also, applying for the damn thing. Would be better to have a kin do it for us. I think if I went in and said 'I want an apartment' they'd call the cops on me before they'd show me anything." He frowns. "Besides, I don't even have a driver's license anymore. My old fake one had the date on it expire."
Tim waves aside any notions of Zosia's help. "No, no--better we figure it out on our own. I could see if any of my dad's relatives are interested in a move up north here." He glances at Xander, saying, "I've got a Walker friend who can help with that," then asks Shelby, "You have any relatives who're bored of the East Cost?"
Shelby fiddles with the hem of her jeans again. "Could talk to the Walkers about that - needing a new fake license, I mean. If this were back at Sunlit Waters I could probably help with that, but I don't know anyone around here. --Mmm... maybe? Assorted cousins and such. I could always ask. There's a Molyneaux who was making noises about wanting to see California when I was there last. Or David Wojciechowski. I think he's going to graduate college this year. We dated for a while."
"Yeah, that'd be handy," Xander replies to Tim. "I need something." To the talk of relatives, he clams up, just listening.
"I'll talk to him, see what he can do. Did you want like, a real record of existing, or just a good fake ID?" Tim nods his head to the east. "He's out in Portland, so he could even make it like, an Oregon ID, if you wanted to layer on the obfuscation."
Tim adds, to Shelby, "Maybe put out some feelers, see if anyone's interested."
"That's why we've got cell phones!" she agrees, with a nod to each of them. "All right. They wouldn't even have to come out here, so long as they would be willing to funnel money into an account. I'll ask. My family isn't one of the rich Silver Fang ones, but maybe if I play the assorted grandparents...," the thought dies almost immediately. "No, that wouldn't work. They don't like each other, but they still talk."
"A good fake ID," Xander says, immediately. "I'm fine with whatever state, just something that says I'm legal. I don't even care what name he uses, just preferably not like... 'John Smith' or anything. At least vaguely Korean. Or even Japanese. Or whatever. Not like most people here can tell the difference." He makes a face, but it's not particularly serious.
Tim's expression has nothing but sympathy for Xander. "I'll tell him to make it proper. Ujio'll know how to make it stick." He blinks at Shelby, clearly not having thought of just funneling money. "I think that's less likely to work for my dad's people, but if you have anyone willing to do it, well..."
"I'll ask," she says again with a nod. "I mean, despite what some people think not every Silver Fang has a Scrooge McDuck swimming room, but." She grins at both of them, the brilliant one that lights her face and makes her look her age. "I feel even better about this Pack than I did the last one, and I really thought the last one was going to work. Thank you both for being who you are."
Xander grins at Tim, a touch relieved. "Thanks," he says, and then looks amused at Shelby. "I think if I wasn't, that'd be weird. Oh--" he adds, eyeing them both. "Also. I'd really rather not be heading this thing up, so I leave that to you two to decide."
Tim gives Shelby an opaque look that seems intended to conceal embarrassment. At Xander's comment on leadership, he looks a bit more smug. "Well. Maybe we can race for it."
Shelby's return look to Tim is bland, bland, bland. But as Xander chimes in about leadership she promptly says, "Not it!" and looks smug. "Guess you and that pesky Adren rank are going to have to suffer, Tim-rhya. Or should we call you Mister-Golden-Sir-rhya?"
Xander looks amused. "If we raced for it, I'd 'trip'. You watch me. Besides, I'm ... a lot better when I can do my auspice things without worrying about leadership, so--yeah. I'm fine with the highest rank taking it."
Tim rolls his eyes. It's like he's not even a day older than either of them. "Right. Anyways. In as much as we need a leader, I'll defer to the lack of desire of others." He looks up at the darkening sky. "I'm gonna get across, and go sit with Chu'mana a spell. Then I'll see about finding Norman."
Shelby sticks her tongue out, so there. "I'm going to go start sweet-talking my relatives," she decides, not even bothering to get to her feet before shifting into a four-footed model. Shaking out her ruff, she mock-lunges at Tim before giving Xander a wave of her tail. Night's Shadow. Run with me?
Xander shifts to lupus at Shelby's request, and wuffs a farewell at Tim. Be well. See you soon. And then he gives a playful nip at the back of Shelby's heel, springing to the side. Race the snow!
Bright Eyes yelps, so injured! and dashes off, pausing only to see if she can hit Tim in the back of the knees and take him down.
Tim swats at Shelby--not fast enough to connect, though if that's by design or not is unclear--and gets up. Ignoring the snow under his feet, he rolls up his prayer rug and stows it, shoulders his bag, and shifts to lupus. Road rise to meet you both. He huffs, sending a cold cloud into the air, and slips across the Gauntlet into the Umbra.