Cleansing Ty

[shelbyrou]

It is currently 12:00 Pacific Time on Fri Feb 3 2012.
Currently the moon is in the waxing Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (74% full).

The Scarred Forest (North of I-90)
The forest is thinner here than it is south of the highway, though it is still difficult to see for very far. Signs of human habitation break the stretch of woods every few miles; roads, paths, farms, and the occasional out-of-the-way home remind you that civilization is encroaching, though in this area, the battle is not yet decided. Hardwoods mix with towering firs and smaller trees, still concealing some of nature's hidden places from the nearby humans. Streams and small pools are scattered throughout the forest, some large enough to swim in, some small enough to freeze solid for most of the winter.
Fresh stumps dot the woods, and almost all of the trees still standing are disease-scarred around the bases of the trunk, some only superficially marked, some deeply wounded; not a few are dead.
Once hauntingly quiet and sparsely populated with wildlife, these woods have fully come alive again. The scents and sounds and glimpses of animals, birds, insects are now as rich here, among the scarred trees, as they are anywhere.
This region stretches almost 50 miles north from I-90 into the Sun Lakes area, where the disease that scarred the trees appears to have been at its worst.

Obvious exits:
Tiny Cabin Great Oak Grove 23 Hawk's End Southeast Interstate 90 Grotto South

[Location: At the extreme northern end of the woods, near Sun Lakes]

Mouse arrived early at the site. Very early, as it turns out, and yet she's only just beginning the physical preparations. The Theurge is in the process of scratching out a wide circle with the toe of her shoe, which appears to be a long and arduous process--every time the circle is even remotely uneven, she scratches it out and begins again. Nearby is a silver colored metal case, small enough for her to easily carry. It's closed, at present.

Jamethon stands watch over the rituals beginning, his Chimeric spear in hand used to carefully dig glyphs of protection and cleansing on the outside of the circle. Their placement and orientation around the rite circle indicate the protective glyphs are directing outwards, and the cleansing, inwards. The Fenrir wears a dyed green leather pouch at his hip, unevenly bulging with contents, which is uncommon for the Godi.

Golden emerges from a heavily-marked stand of madrones, huffing a greeting to Mouse as she works. His lupine face is painted gray with ash. He shifts once he's clear of undergrowth and brambles, revealing his black ritual outfit, with its tunic-like top and white edging at the sleeves and collar. A bracelet glints on his right hand, but it's the only bit of color on him, otherwise. He stays quiet, taking a spot near a trio of saplings.

Mouse looks up as Golden greets her, and gives him a terribly distracted nod, before scrubbing out the last few inches of the circle and continuing onward. She's careful not to step on Jamethon's glyphs, but otherwise she seems pretty engrossed in what she's doing.

Bright Eyes likewise follows her packmate, eeling out of the woods and giving her coat a good shake. Said shake turns into a seamless shift to homid, leaving the Fang momentarily off-balance. She offers the Theurges a nod as well before following Tim over to his trees.

Jamethon looks up quickly to the greeting, then glances at its target, then back to his work. Once he is finished, he starts to squeeze and mash up the large pouch at his side with his hands, as if a rough form of mixing. The Godi opens the pouch, which contains some kind of thick goop that strongly smells like wild herbs and flowers mashed together. He kneels by the runes and starts to carefully mete out the pouch to fill the dug glyphs of cleansing.

Shelby startles, as though goosed, and gives Tim an odd look. "He's what? --Wait, what?"

Tim looks askance at Shelby, clearly amused.

Mouse finally finishes off her circle, with one last decisive curved line. She eyes it critically, then grunts, apparently satisfied, and steps back. "So, I'm not sure any of you have seen me do a Cleansing before." She turns toward the metal case. "This might seem incredibly weird."

Shelby continues to stare at Tim, the Three-Headed and Purple-Spotted Silent Strider. With antlers. "She, right." Then, face screwed up as if trying to figure out how to insert this camel into this needle, she looks at him. Hard.

Norman arrives from the east, arriving in homid and apparently having quite a bit of scratches to show for it. More impressively, he is holding a bowl of a dark red liquid almost filled to the brim which doesn't seem to have spilled a drop on his travels to the site of the Ritual. He holds off on any greetings, aside from a quick nod towards his fellow Fenrir. Norman moves slowly, and begins to fill the carved glyphs of protection with the bowl's contents, a mixture that smells of iron and moves slow and thickly.

Tim gives Shelby a placid look that's briefly interrupted by a narrowing of his eyes.

Mouse eyes Norman's arrival, and though she tries, she can't quite resist tipping her head back and closing her eyes for a moment.

For once Shelby appears unaware of the others, all wrapped up as she is in staring at Tim. The Fang sports a delighted grin.

Tim's eyes move to Norman and the others after a moment, and he fidgets with his bracelet while surveying the preparations.

Jamethon looks up to Mouse as the Walker speaks, still careful not to spill the pungent contents of the pouch outside of the boundries of the glyphs. He raises an eyebrow in curiousity as to what the fellow Theurge might mean.

Night's-Shadow arrives shortly in lupus after the others, panting a bit (in suggestion he might have been a little rushed) and angling towards his packmates.

Norman merely nods once, in between filling the glyphs from the bowl. His gaze flits towards the trees once, for a moment, but he is focused on his own task at hand.

Mouse opens her eyes and drops her attention to the metal case. She reaches out, snapping it open, and begins rummaging carefully through the contents. Almost immediately, she pulls out what seems to be an honest to god actual censer, made of brass and, to more lupine senses, smelling thickly of incense even unlit. This, she sets carefully down on the ground beside her.

Shelby manages, somehow, to yank her eyes from Tim (her face is approximately the same color as a barn). Her, "Oh, there's Xander. And Norman," is decidedly strangled; she kneels down to offer the onrushing Shadow Lord ear scratches or something.

Tim arches an eyebrow at Mouse, unjudging and curious. Something flickers over his face and his eyes get distracted for a second.

Night's-Shadow peers up at Shelby, one ear cocked out to the side, almost uncertainly. And, he greets Tim, too.

Tim gives Night's-Shadow a small smile of greeting in return.

Shelby abruptly stands - no pettins for Night's Shadow - folds her arms, and moves a few feet away from her packmates, back to them. Her mouth moves silently, and after a few minutes her face starts to resume its normal color.

Mouse begins pulling out other things. A water bottle with a squirt top. Actual incense, presumably for the censer, which she goes about putting in. And candles. They look like regular old, regular sized white candles.

Nik makes his way to the clearing, in homid. He looks a little sleepless, and occasionally coughs, tapping on his chest once or twice with a fist. But he's not making much of a show of it, and instead has with him two other show-stoppers: a very quiet Alexandra, a 12-year old girl almost as tall as he is, and the recently integrated Hayden.

Wildfire arrives a few minutes after everyone else, his heavy hispo frame easily noted as he pushes through the foliage. He bears nothing, unlike may of the others, except for a band of dark grey, almost black, soot smeared over his eyes.

Mouse looks up as Nik arrives. She swipes an arm over her face, seems to consider something, and then stands, moving toward the Shadow Lord elder. Her preparations are, for the moment, left on hold.

Night's-Shadow looks over toward Nik, eyes squinting for a moment in thought. He doesn't move though.

Nik meets Mouse halfway, offering his hand in thanks. "Mouse-rhya... I appreciate you doing this," the Shadow Lord tells her. "Helps me out a ton."

Tim's eyes track Shelby as she steps away, but the arrival of other Garou soon draws his attention; he nods greetings to those he knows and scrutinizes those he doesn't.

Jamethon is almost done carefully filling in the glyphs of cleansing with that pungent mix when Wildfire arrives. He lifts his head and grins in a rather grim fashion to his packmate, before returning to the last of the glyphs.

Mouse takes the offered hand, a little gingerly--her own is, perhaps not unsurprisingly, rough to the touch, as those spidery scars of hers are all over the palm and fingers of her hand as well. "Least I can do," the Walker says, before lowering her voice. "I do have a request. It has no bearing on the rites I perform, but I figured it's best to ask you first, before approaching your two newcomers."

Nik grins a little. "I wish there were only two," he agrees. "But that's fair enough. Ty and Eli should be along shortly. I saw them this morning and I have a feeling Ty's not gonna wanna be here. He also has a mark on his arm from the Dancers, I think. That's also gonna need to be taken care of." He sighs, looking about. "What do you need?"

Wildfire lifts his chin a bit in a nod of greetings to Jamethon, looking at him evenly through his blackend mask. A barely noticable wag of the tail follows as he moves to take a seat near the periphery as a large cornerstone to these procedings.

Shelby glances toward the hispo, then toward the others assembled. She touches her cheeks, first palm, then back, and finally turns back to her pack mates with an uncertain smile. "We're going to play defense?" she asks quietly, nodding deferentially toward Mouse and Nik.

Mouse's eyes narrow faintly at mention of the mark, but she does not look surprised. "Not need," she murmurs. "Request. I'm interested in information. Anything the Cliath knows about the Hive they were fighting, as well as the layout and potential defenses of their former Caern, any random scrap of behavior he might have seen on his way in and out. All or some or none of that would be fine. Obviously he's probably not keen on giving details, but if he is." She hesitates here, and her eyes narrow a little more. "And I'd like a few minutes alone to talk with the boy, once we're finished."

Hayden is standing beside her elder and the other female youngster that Nik brought with. Hand-me-down clothes draped on her and black toque pulled low on her ears. She says not a word, just watches, intently watches, everything and everyone around her.

Jamethon finishes with the contents of the pouch and looks over his work for a moment before pushing himself up to his feet. He looks first to Nik's speaking to Mouse, then over to Norman who is finishing his work as well. Norman stands a little slower than Jamethon, meets his look and nods. He produces a thick leather bundle, tied tightly with three vertical bands of twine. Jamethon walks over close enough to offer to Nik and Mouse. "Norman has the means to remove the mark of the enemy."

Night's-Shadow just watches the interaction between Nik and Mouse, ears forward.

Wildfire growls out loudly from where he sits. ~He will talk.~ It's an affirmation and a promise, it would seem.

Tim murmurs to Shelby in reply, "Depends on what Mouse wants. Probably you and me defending, but I expect she'll want Xander at the circle."

There is a fair amount of the sound of someone tromping through brushes to warn those present before Thunderstrike arrives, pauses at the edge, with a deep nod as he surveys first the preparations, and then those who are present. His gaze lingers first on Tim and Shelby, then on Nik, then swings over to Wildfire. In the warform, he is carrying Tyler, the boy half cradled in his arms, half slung over his shoulder, but prevented from the occasional kick of struggle.

Nik nods to Mouse, turning as he hears the tromping. "Well, he's there when you need him. Gotta be careful, though," he tells her. "Gets a little touchy around the subject. Doesn't handle it well." He rubs at his face when he sees Ty being toted along, glancing at Wildfire with a shrug at the Get's comment. He moves to stand closer to Hayden and Alexandra, folding his arms as he scrutinizes the ritual grounds, as if trying to memorize it.

Night's-Shadow looks at Wildfire at his comment, and his muzzle wrinkles and an ear flicks. Soon, though, his gaze is jerked over toward Thunderstrike. One ear sticks out to the side as he considers.

Mouse turns a sudden, sharp look toward Wildfire. Her face is a mask that, beyond tension, is difficult to read, but there's an inexplicably amount of fury in her eyes, before she quashes it from view. She jerks her head back toward Nik. "I understand." Those two words, perhaps, carry more meaning than might be expected. And then her attention is wrenched away again by the arrival of the two other Shadow Lords. She studies Ty for a moment, then turns away, back toward her supplies and the circle. "Put the boy in the center. Can you hold him down on your own, or do you need someone to help with that?"

Draped is a good way of putting it. Save for a few stubborn kicks, Tyler hangs like a reluctant pup despite his human shape. He doesn't look like he wishes to be there at all, doing his best to become liquid and ooze away despite it's impossibility.

Shelby straightens at the sight of Thunderstrike, and gives the Lord a nod. She steps forward but stops, looking uncertain.

Thunderstrike turns his attention to Mouse, considering her question carefully, and then stepping into the circle without so much as disturbing either the glyphs or the circle itself. The Ahroun is thoughtful, for a long moment. ~I can on my own. I would prefer someone help if at all possible.~

Jamethon looks towards the seemingly petulant cub and then back to the circle. "Once the rite begins, the circle will be... mostly... safe. But until that time, he should not be allowed to break the boundries of it."

All the looks of anger and hate seem to wash over Wildfire like a weak breeze, he being no stranger to being the center of those looks, although Mouse does get an equally intense stare right back at her. When the two Shadow Lords arrive, he peers over at them through his blackened mask as he slowly rises to two feet, using a nearby try to prop him up at first as he slides into the warform.

Norman rises to the warform, ominous bound leather bundle still held across his two giant paws and remains silent while the last 'pieces' are put into place.

Nik does not add to the shiny new plethora of black-furred warforms, and instead stays in homid, perhaps to translate to the cubs what is said in Mother's Tongue. "If things go wrong," he tells the girls. "And sometimes they do, I want you to to split back to the Edgewood. Do you remember how to get back?"

Mouse stares right back, upper lip curling away from teeth. It takes a great deal of effort for her to say, "...We'll fight about that after. No good shedding blood yet." She takes up the candles--four of them--and turns toward the circle as she considers those gathered. "...Nik, take the boy's other side. All three of you stay inside the circle, no matter what. He's not going to like this one bit, but you need to make sure he stays in place. Theurges, to the outer edges of the circle. One at each point--west, north, south. I'll take east. The rest of you, form another circle around us, with enough space to walk, facing outward. You're the guardians. If any bad shit shows up, we'll need you to take care of it."

Night's-Shadow eyes Owen again, and then glances over to his packmates and shifts up to crinos, lumbering over to take the west point.

Hayden looks on at all the commotion with a growing tension. The other Shadow Lords are noted, and a shiver seems to carry through her as she watches them prepare for the ritual. Nik's words bring her out of that focus and she gives him a very adamant nod and a quiet, "Yes sir." She eyes the other girl with him and in that very instant, seems to take a big-sis postuer with her. "I remember."

Nik dips his head in a nod, abandoning the cubs to finally shift to crinos, the only form he has any comparable strength in. Carefully stepping into the circle, the Ragabash helps Thunderstrike to arrange poor Ty supine, one big paw on his left shoulder, the other on his left knee.

Jamethon eyes Mouse critically as she has her moment with Owen, then moves to the North and blurs into the crinos. Oath-Ring moves across from his tribesman to the South, still holding the bundle perfectly flat and chest-level.

Tim shifts to hispo and moves to start up the outer circle. Beads glint and clack in his fur here and there, shining gray and smokey brown and blue and green.

Shelby doesn't add to the plethora of black-furred war forms, because hers is white. She dips her head to Mouse and lopes to a spot along the outer circle, half-turned toward the goings-on within while still keeping an eye out.

Thunderstrike mimics the Shadow Lord alpha in pinning Tyler down, crouched down but alert to everything around him. When the Ahroun is satisfied that the boy has no chance of moving, his gaze swings to Mouse, watching the Walker Theurge carefully.

Ty's teeth bear in a rictus of displeasure when Nik's hands pin him to the ground. Likewise he writhes, straining and showing the first honest attempt at escape when it becomes evident that he won't be able to skulk away.

Mouse eases up to glabro, but no further at the moment. She closes her eyes and breathes deeply. The action seems enough to chase away the lingering traces of temper, at least visibly, and after a moment her eyes open again, and she brings the first white candle to her lips and breathes on it. A spark of fire appears on the wick, which she touches to the second candle, and then the third, until all four are alight. She brings the candles to the Theurges, one for each, with her keeping the first. "Jamethon, have you used a censer before?" She indicates the brass, unlit censer lying prepared near her box o' stuff.

Night's-Shadow accepts the candle, holding it gently in clawed hands. The crinos looks to the struggling boy, brows furrowing.

Oath-Ring shifts the bundle from two hands to just his left, and accepts the candle... holding the hot flame precariously close to his face, yet somehow never managing to snuff it with his breath.

Reflection gives a calm and affirmative chuff to the question and then, taking the candle, looks over towards the brass hanging incense burner. He is obviously awaiting instruction.

Thunderstrike simply pins Tyler down, dropping to one knee pressed up and against the side of the boy's body in order to restrain him.

Thunder's-Heart is a statue as he holds Ty, the only thing moving being his green eyes as they flicker after the movements of Mouse and the other ritualists.

Mouse gestures. "Take it. Light it with your candle. You'll pace the circle opposite me, counter-clockwise, like the seasons of our Caern. Cense everyone in the circle as you go around the first time." She turns her head, clearly addressing everyone now. "The Glass Walkers have an old tradition. When the Inquisition was tearing the world apart to find us, we hid within the Church itself. We discovered that words can have many meanings, and our worship of Gaia can be hidden in the humans' worship of their own gods. This ritual's form dates from that time, albeit," her expression turns wry, "updated, somewhat. I'll indicate when to join in." She takes up her spot in the 'east', and murmurs solemnly to her candle, "In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti." And once Jamethon is in place, she begins to pace the circle, counter-clockwise. "Introibo ad altare Dei. I will go to the altar of God."

Golden's attention is divided between the ritual and their surroundings; he scans the Pack's familiar territory, watching for anything out of place.

Wildfire's grey form turns to face out from the rest, taking his position as sentry.

Bright Eyes's ears go up in surprise at Mouse's words - or perhaps, more accurately, her language. Like Golden, her attention is split between the ritual and their environs.

Alexandra keeps very, very quiet as all of this goes on, her back pressed against one of the disease-scarred trees, the hands at her sides gone white at the knuckles from being clenched so tightly into fists. She barely knows the boy that is the center of all of this, but that doesn't stop the mixture of worry and fear that plays across her face as she watches what's being done to him. Beside her, an equally tense Hayden is watching with worried eyes and a pale face, though she does seem to trying to mask that and force herself to calm by will alone.

Night's-Shadow's ears quirk up in interest at Mouse's version of the ritual, but for now he keeps his focus on the rite.

Reflection lifts the heavy brass censor like it was a small child's toy and quickly lights it with the candle. When the incense begins to smoulder he lets it dangle as appropriate from his right hand and begins his circle. In a way that strangely both contrasts and compliments the ritual latin from Mouse, he gives a deep thrumming monotone near-hum that may remind many around of that of ancient monk chanting. Somehow, though the Godi's pace is constant and unfaltering, the swinging of the censer is perfectly times to waft smoke to each member of the ritual that he passes.

Oath-Ring remains standing in his place, the candle illuminating his face that it is held so close to, in strange fashion even with the other light present. The leather bundle remains, ever present and ever ominous resting in his open left palm.

"Ad Deum qui laetificat juventutem meam. To God, the joy of my youth," Mouse intones, as she continues circling. "Judica me, Deus, et discerne causam meam de gente non sancta: ab homine iniquo et doloso erue me. Do me justice, O God, and fight my fight against an unholy people, rescue me from the wicked and deceitful man." Her voice picks up as Jamethon's contributions reach her ears, and to the observant, it may seem that she's intentionally keeping up the contrast and complimenting as well. ""Quia tu es, Deus, fortitudo mea: quare me repulisti, et quare tristis incedo, dum affligit me inimicus? For Thou, O God, art my strength, why hast Thou forsaken me? And why do I go about in sadness, while the enemy harasses me?"

Though it's barely even a whisper, Golden seems to be saying something in the Mother's Tongue under his breath, in between Mouse's words.

Ty's feet push against the ground as his shoulders strain to lift. The boy's jaw clenches until tendons stand out along his neck while his hands clench into fists. His breathing moves in and out in short, sharp repititions.

Bright Eyes's attention snaps to Ty for a long, uneasy moment. Then, as if reminded, she reluctantly drags her attention from the inner circle to eye the outer.

Night's-Shadow takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, but otherwise doesn't budge.

Wildfire keeps facing away from the group, keeping an outward vigil. A small whetstone did appear in his hands when he shifted into crinos, and with this he starts to idly sharpen his claws. All the while, he makes no other sound.

Thunderstrike inclines his head, focused on the boy, on the ritual. His own whispers, barely audible, in Mother's Tongue also follow in the moments of silence.

Thunder's-Heart's closes his eyes, ears canted off to either side as he leans more of his weight on the boy, pressing him into the dirt.

Mouse lowers her candle toward those inside the circle--though it doesn't come close to touching any of them--the small flame flickering wildly. "Emitte lucem tuam et veritatem tuam: ipsa me deduxerunt et adduxerunt in montem sanctum tuum, et in tabernacula tua. Send forth Thy light and thy truth: for they have led me and brought me to thy holy hill and Thy dwelling place." As she reaches her starting point, the 'east', she shoves the base of her candle into the ground, then turns and retrieves the water bottle, taking up the pacing again. "Vidi aquam egredientum de templo, a latere dextro, alleluia: et omnes ad quos pervenit aqua ista salvifactci dunt, et dicent: Alleluia, alleluia." She flicks droplets of cool water from the bottle onto Ty, but also Eli and Nik as she circles. "I saw water coming forth from the Temple from the right side, alleluia: and all those were saved to whom that water came, and they shall say alleluia, alleluia."

Reflection's-Howl's attention is constantly forward, a tangent of the circle he walks. His bizarre deep base Crinos chanting actually, as if bolstering Mouse's words and fighting the resistance of the cub, increases in volume and power. At the alleluia's, he gives two short howls that then give way back to the prior chanting.

Ty shrinks back, for half a second, when first touched by the water. But only just that instant in time. More furiously than before, more intent despite the greater weight of the two Crinos keeping him firmly pressed against the ground, he tries to rise up. As though pulled by his belly button, his middle lifts, from hips to chest with his feet and shoulders digging into the earth for leverage. A cry, more guttural in spite of its human origins rips upward, wordless but certainly vehement.

Golden's claws dig into the ground at the boy's cries.

Night's-Shadow flattens his ears, but doesn't move.

Mouse returns to her 'east'ward position, and sets the bottle down next to the candle. She digs her glabro'd fingers into the dirt several times, each time letting it run through her fingers, before scooping up handfuls and continuing into the circle again. "Et introibo ad altare Dei: ad Deum qui laetificat juventutem meam." She sprinkles the three Garou in the center liberally with earth. "And I will go to the altar of god, to God, the joy of my youth. Confitebor tibi in cithara, Deus, Deus meus quare tristis es anima mea, et quare conturbas me? I shall yet praise Thee upon the harp, O God, my God. Why art thou sad, my soul, and why art thou downcast?" She paces past 'east' again, this time without stopping, and her voice becomes louder, firmer. "In principio erat Verbum et Verbum erat apud Deum, et Deus erat Verbum. Hoc erat in principio apud Deum. In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God." This time, the Walker Theurge leans toward Ty, and blows. Briefly, a small wind seems to stir up, setting all of the candles to wild flickering, though none of them actually go out. "Repeat after me, brothers, sisters: Dominus vobiscum. May the Lord be with you."

Bright Eyes's head snaps back to the center at the noise, lips pulling from her teeth. It takes her another moment to recombobulate, an ear flicking toward Mouse. ~May the lord be with you.~

~May the Lord be with you,~ Golden rumbles.

Night's-Shadow repeats verbatim: ~Dominus vobiscum. May the Lord be with you.~

Thunderstrike holds Tyler firmly to the ground, despite it. His own echo is slightly different, the feel of the same as Mouse said, but in accented Russian despite it being in Mother's Tongue.

Reflection returns to the North and plants the candle before himself to complete the inner circle and begins to growl loudly in time with the group chanting.

The Godi nods to Oath-Ring who plants the candle in turn and unwraps the leather thongs tying the bundle in his left hand. When the last thread is released he unwraps a brilliantly polished silver ritual dagger, handle bound in raw-looking sinew. Oath-Ring grips the blade in his right hand and takes long breaths, preparing for what is to come.

Reflection's Howl takes his empty hand and with a snarl grips a handful of the burning incense and then gives a keening howl of forbiddence ~Come forth from the child, Bane, and meet our claws!~ The Godi follows this with throwing the burning powder at the cub which crackles in small explosions in the air all about the boy.

Thunder's-Heart bares his teeth, his own claws digging into the boy's flesh as he struggles to hold him. His eyes, however, are on Mouse as she stirs the breeze. The words he echos after the Glasswalker are in Mother's Tongue, and only his ears flinch at the crackle and pops that come from Reflection's Howl's burning powder.

Wildfire echoes the words of the metis, still facing outward until the popping explosions draw his attention briefly to the center.

Another cry follows, easily angry, subtly pained. The boy convulses once, twisting first toward Nik and then Eli. A breath is forced out, then sucked in again forcefully, words forming and flowing though not in english. What he says can be easily taken for threats and insults, ending on another note of strangled yell before Tyler falls completely still. Still enough to be dead. What follows is a perverse wrongness, something malevolent rising up from the boy's chest, and definitely not part of him at all.

Mouse's voice raises in volume again, "Et cum spiritu tuo. And with your spirit." She gestures once more for the others to echo her. As the cub continues to struggle, she returns to her spot in the 'east', lifts her head, and proclaims to the stars, "Oremus. Let us pray. Kyrie eleison. Kyrie eleison." Lord, have mercy. Lord, have mercy. Then the metis is sliding smoothly into her twisted, misshapen version of crinos, and howling to the skies, ~O Lord, hear my prayer!~ She breathes deeply. ~And let my cry come to You. May the Lord be with you. And with your spirit. May the words of the gospel wipe away our sins. Cleanse my heart and my lips, O Almighty God, Who cleansed the lips of the Prophet Isaiah with a burning coal. In Your gracious mercy deign so to purify me that I may worthily proclaim Your holy Gospel. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.~ Another breath. ~Lord, grant me your blessing. The Lord be in your heart and on your lips that you may worthily and fittingly proclaim His holy Gospel. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.~ And then, as that thing rises from her, she snarls, though she doesn't seem inclined to stop.

[OOC] Runetree: = So, brief details on the thing. Dark, looming, kinda like a slug, definitely not fullgrown or anything.

Reflection continues his violent howl and follows it with a concerted force of will that blasts towards with a raising in volume of his howl. He reaches out towards the spirit with an open hand, palm down and starts to curl it slowly into a fist as he turns that palm towards the sky, as if gripping with difficulty into the essense of something. ~Begone from our child, wretch! Come out to us, so your essence may be returned to the ether!~

Golden shifts to crinos now, one ear flicking back to note what's going on behind him even as he keeps watch around them. He continues to echoe First-Strike's words.

Night's-Shadow keeps his spot firm, tensing only slightly as the thing emerges.

Bright Eyes echoes Mouse, once more not attempting the Latin. Her ears lay nearly flat at the sight of the thing that Tyler once housed.

Wildfire eyes the thing rising from the cub's chest, sneering at it before returning his gaze outwards as is his duty. He does, however, echo the metis' last word with a loud, rumbling, ~Amen!~

[OOC] Wildfire uses Inspiration!

The thing, in fact, rises further out of the now-stilled cub, out, and upwards as it lurches. If slugs moved at a pace that was quick, it resembles one, lurching first towards Reflection's-Howl and then towards those who guard the rite as it leaves Tyler behind.

Thunderstrike snarls defiantly at it, though he remains in his place, crouched and kneeled on the ground.

Thunder's-Heart dutifully echos Mouse's words, though his own are low and quiet. Not far, that part of Ty that Does Not Belong begins to materialize before him. The Fostern's eyes roll up to meet the creature as he holds Ty with no less conviction, doubtful the worst has been removed from him. Then those eyes cut to the other two Shadow Lord cubs, as if to be assured of their distance.

First-Strike does not stop, even when the thing attacks Jamethon. She sucks in breath and chants, loud and defiant, ~Take away from us, O Lord, we beseech You, that we may enter with pure minds into the Holy of Holies. Through Christ our Lord. Amen. Turn to us, O God, and bring us life. And Your people will rejoice in You. Show us, Lord, Your mercy. And grant us Your salvation.~ Her eyes go to the motionless Ty. ~May Almighty God have mercy on you, forgive you your sins, and bring you to everlasting life. Hear us Lord, holy Father, almighty and eternal God; and graciously send Your Holy Angel from heaven to watch over, to cherish, to protect, to abide with, and to defend all who dwell in this house. Through Christ our Lord. Amen!~ And now she howls--full throated, angry, still defiant--a furious noise to clash with the sounds of beginning battle, inviting those not fighting to join her.

Night's-Shadow doesn't budge from his spot on the circle, instead throwing back his head to join the howl.

Wildfire turns again back to the slithering mass once he hears it moving his way. He doesn't pause, instead lunging at the thing with a brutal swipe even as his skin thickens with callouses and wart nodules.

Reflection stares down the spirit, but doesn't flinch when it tries to come near. He faces down the creature with a definite Fuck You snarl from hell. Exorcism complete, he returns now to participate in the cleansing proper, following Mouse's lead.

Oath-Ring remains with that silver dagger in hand, the strength of his focus on the cub palpable to the others in the inner circle.

Thunderstrike looks up at the Theurges -- perhaps for instruction as to what comes next -- as he pins down the boy, though now that the cub is still the Ahroun takes a moment to move slightly, his own defiant howl joining Mouse's when she begins.

First-Strike howls until the last scrap of breath has passed her teeth, and then she drops her head. She eyes that knife, and there's no hiding her tension and distaste. ~Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end,~ the Theurge pants. And then, with utter resignation, she steps into the circle, moving to carefully hold Ty's head and shoulders against her knees, apparently feeling the boy needs even more bracing. Oath-Ring gets a faint nod. ~...Before he wakes up.~ She doesn't say if he wakes up, but that implication is there. ~I can heal him, after.~

When Wildfire attacks, the thing lunges forward again -- attacking the Get in some way. Its form wavers, becomes less clear as it is torn by claws, falling into the shape of much more of a lump than recognisable.

Thunder's-Heart makes room for both First-Strike and Oath-Ring as they move towards Ty, inching back while still holding the boy down. His eyes are on that mark on the boy's arm, the last bit of evidence of his sickness.

Thunderstrike moves, with Oath-Ring's approach. When the Walker Theurge takes over the restraining of Ty's head and shoulders, Thunderstrike shifts appropriately, one massive hand wrapping around Tyler's wrist on the arm that the glyph is marked onto, all of his concentration on restraining the boy.

Oath-Ring makes no sound, he only steps forward over the boundry of the circle and tightly grips the cub's arm with his left hand where the mark of the Wyrm lies. His gaze so intense it seems as if it burns down into flesh of the boy's arm. As the Fenrir moves the silver blade slowly towards the arm somehow the flesh there churns and sprouts coarse hairs, the skin tearing slightly at the edges of this forced change, blood welling up in thick dots. Then the silver edge arrives at the skin that is now so vulnerable to the metal's touch with an audible sizzle. Oath-Ring chants in old words of the Fenrir from an ancient time as he performs his carefully grim surgical work.

Golden and Bright-Eyes move in closer to Wildfire, but as the thing becomes more lumpy and less thing-y, they hold back, waiting to see if the Get still needs any aid.

Ty's breathing had, so far, been slow, the deep breathing of even deeper sleep and he seems wholly unaware of the goings on around him. But at the first touch of silver against his flesh he lets out a low, pained whine. The boy tenses, instinctively trying to withdraw from the burning, lancing of skin.

First-Strike holds Ty's head and shoulders firmly, and makes a soft--soft for crinos anyway--hushing sound toward him. ~Almost done, almost over.~

Night's-Shadow doesn't move to go help the killing, but instead moves over toward the boy. He hovers, watching, but doesn't crowd.

Reflection growls lowly as the sound of the sizzling flesh hits his ears and steps in closer to see the work done. When the cub makes that sound the Fenrir's sound increases slightly in volume.

It may be all liquidy and lumpy now, but it's still there. Wildfire bares his teeth, a mask of seething hate now worn only accentuated by the black soot masked over his eyes. His razored claws flash down upon the thing.

The blob of shadow and malevolence and hate gives a last final lurch upwards, but that serves only for it to meet its fate at Wildfire's claws. Torn apart and scattered, it takes a long moment of quivering before the scattered pieces of the bane simply disintegrate and disappear.

Golden and Bright-Eyes return to keeping an eye out for any approaching 'help'.

Oath-Ring performs with a determined focus, and though it seems he works ever so slowly, there is a sense of urgency and purpose to the movements and his ever-presense chanting. Finally, he comes to use the modern mother's tongue, ~The touch of Jormangund is like chaff before our righteous might.~ He carves away another arm of the mark in time with Wildfire's strike, ~Our children will hear stories of how fell the foe at Ragnarok, echoed in each victory here and now on Gaia.~ The blade flashes again into another part of the mark with a crackling of burning flesh... there is a definite purpose in the exact placement and movements of the blade by Oath-Ring. ~You are Shadow Lord, cub. Grandfather Thunder's brood flies with you. No longer the Whippoorwill cries in your ears. Now does the glorious lightning's call bid you welcome with its mighty CRACK!~ At this, Oath-Ring places the flat of the blade at the last remaining part of the original mark, holding the arm with his other hand more firmly to stop the boy from jerking it away.

Thunder's-Heart watches with more trepidation than worry. Now that the Get has taken care of the embodiment of the evil within Ty, the Fostern Shadow Lord relinquishes his claws, merely holding the boy still until his mark can be taken from him.

First-Strike bares her teeth, ears flattening, and fur hackling, at every sizzle, especially as that smell reaches her ears. She's clearly only holding herself--and the boy--so still with great effort.

Fingers curl into the ground, a shaking taking the boy while the knife continues to splice into his skin. His eyes squeeze shut when he lets out a breath, a shuddering that ends with a whimper. The whimper, in turn, becomes a full on cry of pain when the flat of the blade presses against Ty's arm and ever fiber of him tries to pull away.

Wildfire echoes his tribesmate's call to thunder with thunder of his own, issuing a cry of victory that's more of a roar than howl. He then turns quickly to Golden and Bright-Eyes, pointing to his eyes and then indicating a step into the umbra with a swiping gesture.

Thunderstrike is still and tense throughout the entire process, restraining Tyler but very much not watching what is going on more than he actually has to. Nonetheless, at the boy's struggle and cry, the Ahroun pushes Tyler more firmly into the ground, still without interfering with the process that is taking place.

Reflection clenches his fists tightly as he watches his tribesmate work.

Golden nods at Wildfire, and after a pause wherein he looks distracted, Bright-Eyes separates from him, moving to a group of cypress, and slips across the Gauntlet seconds after the Strider does.

Oath-Ring finishes the chant and with the blade still pressed against the boy's tortured flesh, closes his eyes and breaks the magic of his efforts. The skin slowly returns to that of the boy's birth form, the blade's size fully covering the mark there no longer reacting with it. Oath-Ring releases the arm, and stands to step back. This reveals the scarification of the boy's arm in the form of the Shadow Lords glyph where the Wyrm's mark once lay.

First-Strike's hiss enters into a growl, then a snarl. Oath-Ring pulls the silver away about a moment before she looks like she's close to snapping, and as soon as he does, she lays one broad crinos hand over the glyph and immediately calls healing energies into the wound, and into the boy.

Ty nearly pulls his arm protectively to himself once the knife is removed. Mouse's hand stays the movement and after a second try, his eyes open and he looks without understanding first at her hand, then upward at her. He draws in an unsteady breath, body shaking as though with chill as he watches the Theurge above him.

Night's-Shadow goes distant for a moment, and then blinks back to reality. ~My pack, they say... the bane. It's on the run, on the other side. They are going after it.~

Umbra: Once across, Chu'mana flicks her tongue at the two Garou and begins to slither in the bane's wake. Anax flits overhead, keeping just out of the wyrmspawn's reach. Golden takes his hispo form and wastes no time in charging for the thing; Bright-Eyes sends up a howl, her voice thrumming with Dragonfly's gift.

Thunder's-Heart's muscles seem to unwind, and his grip on Ty is much less frantic now that he sees the boy's expression. Slowly, he withdraws his claws, turning at Night's-Shadow's proclaimation. He only nods, a grim expression on his lupine visage.

Thunderstrike settles one hand, gently, on his nephew's shoulder, coming to rest on his knees. The other hand still restrains the boy partially, for now. Eventually, the Ahroun settles a worried, direct look at First-Strike.

Umbra: The bane has not moved very far, as slugs are wont, and at the approaching Garou, it turns, hurling itself at them up and out of its trail of slime. The darkness of the slug seems to shift and contort a little as it does so, but the basic shape remains the same, and at the head of the slug, a large, too-large maw opens, as if to try and bite whoever it reaches.

Wildfire watches after the two step into the Other, then takes a moment to look for something, anything, to use himself, even knowing by now it'd probably too late anyway.

Umbra: The bane has not moved very far, as slugs are wont, and at the approaching Garou, it turns, oozing dark slime in place as it does so. Where it quivers gelatinously, the head of the slug distorts and a large, too-large maw opens, as if to try and bite whoever it reaches.

There's nothing flashy about First-Strike's gift. No light, no words from her, no indication that she's using it, on the outside, until skin and flesh begins to knit together under her fingers. She holds her grip for several moments after the healing has finished, just to be sure, and then flicks her ears up, and breathes deeply.

Umbra: With Kakkerlak watching from the safety of a large rock, Chu'mana rockets forward, fangs seeking the thing's side. This puts her well ahead of Golden even, who makes to duck under the bane's attack and rend it with claws and teeth in...whatever it has under its mouth. Bright-Eyes circles around to charge at it from opposite Chu'mana.

Reflection appears to lose much of his tension once Mouse performs her healing and he melts down into the hispo, allowing himself to appear a little drained for his efforts.

Thunder's-Heart sits back, resting a furry arm over his knee, regarding the new Shadow Lord cub with interest. ~Almost done,~ he assures the boy, no small amount of appreciation in his voice. ~Not even a shifting. Good boy.~

Umbra: Snap snap. The bane snaps at nothing, in fact, as Chu'mana's fangs dig into its side, and Golden claws at its throat. But no matter how the thing seems to roll, and roll in a thrashing manner it does, the slug's form just adjusts so that it remains upright. The mouth disappears, then, reappearing at the back of the slug-bane in order to attempt to dig shadow-formed teeth into Bright-Eyes.

Night's-Shadow watches, then relaxes tension that he didn't even really know was there. ~Well done,~ he says, to both Mouse and boy.

First-Strike exhales, allowing herself to look faintly relieved. ~He's clean.~ She regards Eli for a moment, before saying, ~I asked Thunder's-Heart if I could ask you for information. Details, about the Hive, your Caern's defenses, what you might have seen.~ One ear flicks. ~That can wait for another time, even if you're willing, and I don't expect you to be. But once he's caught his breath, with your permission,~ her eyes narrow faintly. ~I'd like to speak to the boy alone, for a minute.~

Wildfire starts to pace, knowing there's a fight nearby but nothing he can do about it. He snorts like a bull as he goes on as the metis wanting to speak 'alone'.

Thunder's-Heart takes the hint, pushing himself to his feet. ~I am sure the others have things handled. I will take the girls to the Edgewood and speak to them.~ His eyes glance to Thunderstrike. ~Be calm, and don't forget your gift to your nephew, once his Past is Broken. Mouse-rhya... call me later if you will. Let me know how it goes, and tell me your dreams of late.~ With that, the Shadow Lord elder steps away, heading for the other cubs. On the way he stops past Wildfire, giving the restless Get a nod of thanks.

Umbra: Golden rips into the creature further, snarling, and Bright-Eyes echoes the sound with a 'how dare you' of her own, bringing teeth and claws into it. Chu'mana's venom does its confusing work, and overhead, Anax hovers, watching.

The boy's gaze widens, taking in the others immediately present. First Nik as he speaks, then Xander, neither of which seem to gain a light of recognition. Ty's eyes move away from those to, past his uncle to the other, still seemingly unfamiliar faces. There's a touch of worry, unlike the distrust he'd displayed before, before he gives the impression of sinking further downward and returns his gaze to Mouse.

Thunderstrike considers First-Strike's words for a long time, ears splaying to the side in thought. Even as the Walker Theurge asks her question, there is the distinct and noticeable quiver of Rage pushed back in Thunderstrike's manner. He spends a full moment steadying himself, looking away from anyone rather than look at First-Strike, and it is only after the Shadow Lord alpha's admonishment that he calms fully. ~You have it,~ the Ahroun voices, one large hand gently on Tyler's shoulder again.

First-Strike dips her head to Thunderstrike, and then shrinks down to homid. One of her hands remains, feather light, on Ty's other shoulder, and she murmurs to the cub, "Can you stand? We can go over to the trees, there. This won't take long."

Reflection moves over towards Wildfire and huffs to the fellow Fenrir. The Godi growls and scratches the paw he burned at the ground idly. ~They'll catch it.~ He offers, ~They better.~

Thunderstrike looks at Mouse one more time. ~Respect our customs,~ he adds, though it is a request more than anything else.

Night's-Shadow snorts. ~They will. They are fighting it now.~

Oath-Ring moves off towards the west side of the clearing and takes human shape once again. He seems to embrace the cold rather than cover up against it, as he stares off into the woods.

Umbra: As the slug-bane is torn apart in the Umbra, there is a cry that comes out from that shifting and moving too-large maw, not unlike the cry that earlier came out of the boy during the rite. When it is separated from itself, the shadow, and the entire trail of shadowed, malevolent slime that it had left, dissipates, removing itself from existence entirely. Small explosions echo where the pieces had been, but the bane is no more.

Ty glances toward Eli at Mouse's question, before giving the Theurge a nod. Another peek is directed at the others again, hidden as he carefully pulls himself over and gets his hands and knees beneath him. The boy pauses, eyes finding the change of scarring on his arm, then pushes himself to his feet to follow Mouse despite being a little unsure of his feet.

Wildfire just stares at his tribes/packmate for a moment like he's going to punch him, and then punches him anyway. ~Good job,~ he rumbles.

Umbra: Golden and Bright-Eyes shrink back from the explosion, but Chu'mana doesn't, and in fact she crawls about, tongue flicking here and there as she double-checks for any remains (and probably any abandonned Gnosis). Anax zips away into the woods.

Thunder's-Heart takes himself away from the group and disappears towards the Edgewood with Hayden and Alexandra.

Mouse nods again at Thunderstrike, before she stands, and ushers the boy over to the stand of trees she indicated, unhurried. They remain quite visible, though it's distant enough to allow her to lean in and murmur to him without being overheard.

Night's-Shadow takes a breath and lets it out. ~The bane is dead.~

Ty looks back once before stopping with Mouse. One hand finds his freshly (re?) scarred arm, fingers wrapping around it, palm pressing against the newly healed flesh. When he replies to the Walker, it's quietly, with his face turned a little downward.

Golden and Bright-Eyes come back across the Gauntlet, with Bright-Eyes sporting a small mark on her that vaguely resembles teeth, though even now it's fading away.

Long moments pass, where Thunderstrike simply remains kneeled in the circle where he had been. However, he stands, shifting back to his birth form as Golden and Bright-Eyes return, with a nod to Night's-Shadow. A grateful nod. Then, Eli digs in the pocket of his jeans, coming out with a cigarette that gets clenched in his teeth, and a lighter.

Mouse slides her hands into her coat pockets, her head also angling downward a little, though her eyes are on the cub, rather than the ground. Her lips move, but it's still a quiet murmur, too quiet to be overheard.

Golden licks his muzzle in a 'you're welcome' to Thunderstrike, and huffs out a breath of 'good work' to the crescent moons.

Reflection takes the punch in seemingly neutral fashion, at least outwardly to most. Though more Fenrir-like minded folk might see the undercurrent of brotherly pride in their work this day.

Ty's head turns a tiny bit toward the sound of arrival, gaze following Tim and Shelby for just a second. At Mouse's words, though, his attention returns to her and he nods.

Mouse lifts a finger, still clearly talking to him in low tones. A moment later, she lifts a second finger, and then pulls her other hand out of her pocket, reaching toward Ty's hand.

Wildfire follows his punch with a clap the the theurge's arm. ~I need to get out of here. Tell the metis that I am 'Highly' interested on whatever she finds about that caern.~

Reflection grunts at the clap and nods to the request. Sitting on his haunches and just allowing himself to calm and relax for a while.

Night's-Shadow looks over at Owen, muzzle twitching again. He says nothing, though he angles over toward Golden and Shelby's return. ~How bad was it?~

Ty looks up, more at Mouse than previously, searchingly. He nods after the second finger comes up, eyes lowering as his fingers opening then curling closed after Mouse has taken his hand. Once more he speaks, still pitched only for her to hear.

~It was disgusting,~ Bright Eyes informs him, nose wrinkling in memory. ~But we killed it. Anax and Chu'mana helped.~

Golden waves a clawed hand dismissively. ~It was too young to be very dangerous, and thankfully didn't call out for anything else.~

Mouse meets the cub's gaze, and her own seems to take on a certain intensity. She says something, with a firmness and cold confidence that can be read from far away, even if her words are inaudible. Then she nods back toward the others, and gestures for Ty to follow her back.

Night's-Shadow bobs his head in a nod. ~The boy,~ he says, nodding toward Mouse and the cub, ~is clean now.~

A moment later, and Eli moves over to join Bright-Eyes, Golden, and Night's-Shadow. A good deal of the tension that had been present in the cliath's manner the past few days has dissipated, although equally much remains.

The Fang slips back to her birth form as Eli approaches, greeting the Ahroun with a smile. "Xander says he's clean now. That wasn't so bad," she offers cheerfully. "How are you doing?"

Ty glances into his hand before following Mouse back toward the others. But before he's rejoined everyone, his fingers have curled again and hands pushed into his pockets. He remains slightly behind the Walker elder, head bowed though he looks up at the others with polite curiosity.

Mouse gives the gathered Garou a nod, and Eli gets a lingering glance. "Thanks." That, apparently, is that. She turns to start scuffing out the circle, glyphs and all.

Night's-Shadow shifts his attention over toward Eli, and he bobs his muzzle in greeting.

Golden sticks to crinos for the moment, and joins Mouse in cleaning up the ritual circle. He nods a 'welcome back' at Ty as he passes the cub.

A glance, and Eli nods in greeting in return, but his attention has gone to his nephew for the moment. Cigarette is pinched out, shoved into his pocket without a care, and Eli moves over to Tyler, wrapping his arms around the boy in a hug, though one that is relatively gentle. Along with it, there is murmuring in Russian, various and sundry apologies to the boy, and simple reassurance.

Ty gives a small grin to Tim, casual as meeting a friendly stranger on the bus. His uncle nearly takes him from his feet, unsteady as he's been, the sudden pulling and holding, however gentle, comes unexpectedly. It's allowed for a moment, along with the apologies and all, before the boy is kindly pushing Eli away. "I'm okay. Really."

Mouse pauses now and then in her scuffing to collect and blow out the candles as she comes across them. At one point, she uses the water bottle to snuff out the censer.

Shelby watches the two Lords with a benevolent eye before turning back to Xander, a bit of hair tucked behind one ear. "I should show you those spots that Strider showed me." She blinks, remembering something, and turns to look at Tim.

Golden smooths the ground over carefully, then moves to a nearby stream to scrub the ash off his face. He comes back in homid, his black ritual outfit making him a dark splotch on the already dark landscape.

Reflection watches the cleaning efforts, seeing they are well handled he chuffs out a farefell to the gathered and heads off towards the west, much in the same direction as Norman is staring off into the distance.

Mouse begins stacking things back into her metal case. Censer, candles, water bottle. She clicks it shut.

Eli lets the boy push away, a weary smile etching onto the Russian's face. A moment, and he doesn't let Tyler pull away completely, catching the boy's face and then bending down to kiss his forehead. It's really an unexpectedly gentle thing, from the Ahroun, and then he releases Tyler, moves over to join the Walker Elder. "Mikael Elliot Viktorovitch Tkachyov, Strikes-With-Thunder's-Might, cliath Ahroun of Grandfather Thunder's blood," he introduces himself, speaking plainly. "I thank you."

Mouse looks up, and then stands, rising smoothly. "Mouse," she says. "First-Strike, Adren Theurge, Glass Walker elder, Metis, Master of the Rite, and packed with Fidelity under Sphinx. Glad to be of help, really."

Shelby startles at nothing, cheeks coloring again. Rapidly she returns to lupus and shakes out her coat. I will show you! She bounds away, leaving her pack mates to follow or not, as they will.

Night's-Shadow watches the two, and then trots on after Shelby after excusing himself. Pack business, apparently.

Tim shifts to lupus and heads off after Night's-Shadow and Bright-Eyes.

After a long moment of staring into the direction in which Reflection disappeared, Norman turns towards Mouse, nods, and then himself departs from the clearing in silence.

Ty extends the same grin to Shelby when he manages to get most of the way out of Eli's reach. Then, in a heartbeat, his expression changes to utter horror, his hand coming up to wipe his brow. "Oh man... Now I need a bath."