2021-12-22 It's Time for Moot, Dudes IV

It's Time for Moot, Dudes IV

Participants: Garou of the Los Angeles Protectorate

Storyteller: Griffin

Location: Heart of the Caern, Sept of the Smiling Angel

Date and Time: Early Night - December 2X, 2021 - Waning Crescent

Summary: This Moot, a stern warning, a new arrival, and several totems are bound...

<Liam> Liam is arriving with little fanfare, his bare feet pad against the dirt as he makes his way into the Heart and down through the wolves with little shoulder bumps and headbonks spread throughout until he's reached the space of honor reserved for him. There is a reserved quiet about the leader of the Sept this evening, as he settles in. Linen britches hold to his waist and his midnight blue ritual robe with the silvery constellations is draped over his shoulders; this leaves the mottle of scars on his torso to bear as the Honor they are. His Baneklaive wound over the heart a gnarled mess, a matching diagonal scar working from hip to opposite lower rib earned not too long before the first. He also wears the Klaive of his family around his waist in an ancient hide and bone sheath, a status symbol he rarely reminds others of. To top it off, there is a familiar raccoon that rides on one of his shoulders and partially clinging to his head, the presence of the Kami having meanings of her own. Mysterious raccoons!

<Mapa> Yes, Mapa is here. There she is! Clinging as though for dear life to Liam as he stalks through the crowd, like her were a tree bobbing at the surface of the water as she rode down a frightful river. Its a very busy event for a small creature such as she, especially one that values is privacy as much as a raccoon does. Her eyes are wide, her fuzzy little belly flutters with quick breaths, but her tail swishes across Liam's back as he walks. So clearly she's at least a little excited, in a good way, about the moot! Maybe she expects snacks.

<Parnell> Once everyone is ready to form a circle and begin the Moot, Parnell, the Master of the Howl, shifts into his skinny, slightly doglike Lupus form, with patchy gray and brown fur, bony limbs, and strikingly bright, intelligent blue eyes.

Round and round the circle Mightier-Than-The-Klaive goes as he begins the ritual. Reflecting his new status as part of Black Coil, the pack of Coyote, his usage of the High Tongue includes a few yips here and there...

He uses the same first lines as he did last time. And just like last time, his style is...unconventional.

<<We are here. We are present. We are Smiling Angel.
This is our Moot. Our Sept. Gaia's soldiers. Fuck yeah!
It hasn't been easy, man. It hasn't been easy:
We've lost good wolves and good Kin. Cracks-The-Skull and Tink.
But flowers of hope bloom, nourished by their blood.
Phalanx survives. Tink helped fuck up shit bad.
Remember them and their sacrifices. Hit back harder next time
'Cause there will be a next time. Bet your ass on that.
More packs are forming. We'll toast 'em tonight.
The Silver Wolves, too, now part of our Sept --
So howdy, neighbors. Can I borrow some sugar?
Okay, sing with me now -- let's get this Moot started
With a great.
Big...
HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWL....>>

The Frankweiler lets loose a high-pitched, yipping howl that is unmistakably influenced by Coyote, encouraging everyone to join in with him, whether or not they're a wolf. The collective energies of the Sept feed the fire and grow everyone's shadows, signifying that the Moot has, indeed, officially begun!

<Jag> Jag, too, spots Mapa. Jag sets her hand to the shoulders of her packmates again, a quick touch-tap to either of them to catch their attention and points toward the living hat on Liam's head (and shoulders). "Raccoon is already with us," she notes to the pair, "in his favored child. I hope that this will be a good omen for us." She fiddles nervously with her belt, probably checking and re-checking the offering that's in there.

<Corey> Corey Fischer's found a rather choice spot of concrete to lean herself up against. She will likely remain on this very choice spot of concrete for the remainder of this moot, in fact! Her eyes trail through the crowd to get a look at all the familiar and unfamiliar faces. And yes, she does spot the raccoon. Makes a little 'aww' sound and everything. How can you not make a little aww sound?

In either case, Corey will push both of her hands into the pockets of her UCLA track jacket and eventually turn her attention back towards the folks who had gathered. A brief glance is given to the watch on her wrist, but it doesn't linger there. She's just checking the time. It's moot time.

When the Master of the Howl beckons the sept to join him in a howl, Corey will drop her hand to her side, step forward, tip her head back, and use those homid vocal chords to give a high pitched but rather earnest-sounding howl to join in with the chorus. Someone's got to be the alto.

<Wovoka Jones> Wovoka Jones bellows forth a mighty howl, ratcheting up and down the registers to fall in to a harmony with his packmates as they sing in turn.

<Silas> Silas stands among the sept officers in a bespoke suit of deep blue with splashes of watercolor florals on his tie. With one hand resting over the brass handle of his cane, his other maintains a grip around the curved rib of a large animal. His pale green gaze drifts calmly across the large gathering, head lifted with a proud dignity. But as the Master of the Howl lifts his voice in the High Tongue, Silas' lips twist in a smile at his unconventional style. And tilting his head back, he joins the coyote-style yodel with a complenting howl of his own.

<Atzi> Atzi rises to four paws and slinky-stalks to fall in behind the Sept Alpha, the slat-ribbed, oddly urban looking wolf remains completely silent, ears swiveling and nose snuffsnuffling the air as she finds a spot to be within the ranks of Silverhoof and well out of the way.

<Storms-at-Dusk> Dusk will never get used to that strange homid song, but it's almost instinctual that he *has* to howl as it's closed out. And so he does, leaning back on his haunches as he throws his maw to the ceiling, joining in the end of the song.

<Aribella> Aribella laughs as she joins in a howl .. shes not a wolf but the yipps cause her to just go with the flow of things and she closes her eyes and howls as a human kinfolk can... which is not much but... well she tries.

<River> River scrapes a bare foot along the rock floor, and claps a hand sharply to his chest, flushing the bare skin with th eimpact, before he lifts his chin and lends his homid-howl to Wovoka's, and to the rest of the Sept's, reverberating in the heart of the Caern.

<Scarred Wolf> Scarred wolf pads her furry self over to Unicorn pack. She looks over to Atzi giving her a soft chuffed greeting.

<Lucas> A shift, and every muscle flexes within the Child of Gaia ahroun. His head tilting back and then he too joins the howl to begin the moot. His voice carrying, its not a beautiful howl, its a howl of a warrior. A shiver running through him as his hands flex again.

<Kelli> Kelli puts a hand over her heart as it all begins. Hearing of the losses, she feels for the wolves and kin here with that. A very small smile on her face knowing that hope springs eternal. Remembering the fallen so important. She lends her voice as she tilts her head back from that outside ring of the crowd and joins in the howl.

<Nikolai> Nikolai finds the pull a powerful one as he take part in the primal howl himself, beastual in natural as he shift to lupus himself. The snap and howl of wars with words joins the other in a untified song.

<Jag> Jag joins in the howl as well, throwing her head back to send out the note into the air, joining in with her pack. Just a simple and instinctive howl of sound. Nothing fancy to it with her. Not a singer, she at least knows how to let the wolf be heard.

<Lola> Lola wanted to gravitate to the most familiar faces, and take company in them, but they in turn were peppered among their packs and would be packs, busy with rites and rituals, and all the other things that go into a Moot, and so she contented herself to watch, and despite having been born to this life, there was still wonderment in her violet eyes. The lime she'd been toying with, disappeared back into her pocket, this was no time for fidgeting and fruit.

<Lynn> "That coat is tight," Lynn tells Nathan as a natural 'mechanism' of action draw them into relative proximity. But the ceremony is continuing. She folds her hands behind her back as if at parade rest. She can't help but smile at the opening lines, but it doesn't last, because of the reminders of death.

And new addition.

Lynn takes a deep breath-- and throws her head back to start with a scream that does turn into a high warbling howl partway through, as if she had to get her throat in gear. (Which is probably pretty much what happened!) Her hands end up falling out and coming up to gesticulate as she leans backwards slightly, knees crooking as if to brace the howl.

<Piper> When it is time to howl, Piper throws her head back and adds her voice to the mix, a howl that starts bittersweet but builds to hopeful fire much like the song before it.

<Runihura> Runihura lays a hand on Jag's shoulder. A subtle gesture to sooth her nerves. "It is or it isn't. Acceptance." He mutters before pulling it away and letting hands slide into his sleeves crossed over his stomach and then his own howl joins, like the howl of a Jackal crying in the desert.

<Felicity> Felicity does chin up as Jag suggests, though the nickname River's Hope doesn't quite dislodge the frown. The call to howl? That does, for a time. She gives her homid howl as best as she can, an earnest effort to usher in the Moot. She even applauds Parnell for those opening words! Howl complete, she flumps back down, offering Jag a half-forced smile. Then recognizing that's a pack she's slotted herself next to, Felicity gets up - spies a Corey, and goes sulking with (not at) her instead.

<Rigby> In the human tongue, it would be something like 'Extreeeeeeme! Wooooo! Spring break!' but when Rigby howls it mostly sounds like "AhwooooooooOOooOoohh!" and that's more or less the same thing, and then surreptitiously pours the bottled water into the little basin.

<Meg> Meg's eyes snap open. And then she howls as a woman might: a scream out into the void, up towards the city above. Loud; clear; and with all the voice she can muster as a somewhat petite woman.

<Clint> Clint stays in his homid form when the howl starts. He's had a lot of practice in faking it. He throw his head back and lets out a howl. As loud and good as he can with homid vocal cords. When done he gives each of the Guardian wolves a bump on their shoulder with his leg in greeting on his way to post up in his spot.

<Alicia> Alicia shifts briefly to her wolf form so she can properly join the howling, letting her voice echo with the others. Though she returns back to her human form after the howling dies back down.

<Niall> Niall tilts his head back and howls with all his might. He looks proudly to his packmates.

<Sorrel> Sorrel simply looks horrified and practically climbs into Billy's skin, having arrived with him at some point.

<Lola> How Lola wanted to howl with them, how their howls touched something primal, buried in the marrow of her bones, reverberating under the weight of their voices. Instead she contents herself with a little crooning sounds, just for her. Her eyes wider, more focused now. Weaving side to side ever so slightly, like a charmed cobra might.

<Adeline> When the howling begins, Adeline closes her eyes and breathes in and out slowly, listening to the chorus reverberate through the heart of the caern. She does not add to the cacophony, but it does not make her any less involved... letting the sound resonate deep within her.

<Bronwyn> Bronwyn hears the howls go out and she closes her eyes. She tilts her head up and just listens, hearing the calls of the wolves and letting it wash over her.

<Mapa> When the room erupts into lupine baying, Mapa's claws sink into Liam's neck and back where she clings to him. The pace of her anxious little breaths increases, and she starts glancing around at the floor as though looing for a place to scamper off to-- but she forces herself to hold still. Her eyes go wide as she tucks herself as close to the garou she's riding as possible, and settles her head atop his. Her ears fold forward, and just for a moment, she looks in marvel at the unity of the gathering. And then its time to go back to hyperventilating.

<Mike> Mike throws his head back and lets out a low howl deep and throaty as he lets it loose as he joins in with everyone else. As the howls die down, he lowers his head and looks around at everyone who's gathered here, some faces he knows others he doesn't. He smiles as he looks at the rest of his pack and then to the others.

<Ghostwalker> Addison observes his packmate's Howl with a wry smirk. When the howls of the sept wolves die down he trades places with Parnell and lifts the conch-shell horn to his lips. Keen ears would be able to perceive very subtle changes to the intonation of the summoning call. Perhaps new spirits would stand with the Sept tonight...

<Corey> Felicity's approach will be greeted with a warm smile from the Child of Gaia. Corey tips her head delicately to the side at Felicity's skulking, and she beckons the other wolf to come a bit closer with one of her arms. Felicity will definitely know, at this point, that if she gets any closer she'll be getting one of those Child of Gaia hugs. Not quite the Liam bear hug, but certainly a potent force in its own right. Each Corey hug comes with its own little chin nuzzle, so.

<Griffin> As the attendees arrive just prior to the Opening Howl, they can witness Only-Ghosts-Behind-Him, performing the intricate, concealed steps of Opening the Caern of Stealth, and awakening the Moon Bridge. His expression is one of devoted duty, the Gatekeeper betraying no sign of emotion for what, or rather who, may come across it tonight. Only breaking to join into the opening howl as Parnell kicks off the First Winter Moot officially.

Ghostwalker puts out the usual call for the various spirits, the practiced Caller of the Wyld once against performing the meticulous dance of summoning each in their precise order. Many answer the call, Unicorn and Coyote taking up positions with their pack, both of them looking particularly energized, invigorated by new blood brought into their respective packs. If you'd blink you'd miss it, but Pigeon sneaks its way over to the City Farmers in the back. Easy Credit, being the peculiar and ornery being that she is, does not answer the call in the traditional sense, though one might spot what looks to be a business card floating on the air before dissipating. And then there's Falcon, letting out the shrill, excited sounds as it swoops the Caern

The most interesting tonight, are the attendance of two spirits who have not graced the Caern in a long, long time. The first, the avatar of Lion, slowly strides into the Caern, his posture regal as befitting the King of Beasts. His bright eyes trace the crowd, lingering on Niall, and there is a faint, but noted sadness at the absence of one member in particular. Alas, he takes up his position among the other spirits. The next, almost dwarves every spirit in attendance, as the massive avatar of what appears to be a furred elephant. Given the size of it, and the caern, it takes a few slow moments to reduce its size, yet still stands heads above the Garou. Mammoth has arrived. And it almost dwarfs out the appearance of two more, first, Jaguar, already familiar to the Sept. And Raccoon... who wears a change of demeanor that adds a slightly more positive charge to his recent bout of melancholy, who naturally gravitates towards Liam and Mapa, offering a reassuring look to the peculiar kindred spirit

Notably, the Mistress of the Rites Morena Moon is not present; the rumor being that she is out attending to some personal matters of varying importance. And, to nobody's surprise, the enigmatic Elder Gideon Wu does not make an appearance tonight. Among the less-frequent guests to the Bawn proper are representatives from some of the various outlying packs around Los Angeles; a smartly-dressed type wearing a Caltech hoodie, flanked by a miniature predator drone; a pair of Latino males, to whom Rattlesnake and Hummingbird join; and two weathered Gnawers who no totem finds, recognized only by their presence around FDR Park. And of course, a trio of sharp-dressed, well-groomed Garou. A blonde female, a Greek woman one might mistake for a Black Fury, and a young man with brown hair most might recognize from his outburst meetings prior.

<Scarred Wolf> Scarred Wolf is still quietly here, he bumps back to Clint, but the contact is brief as well Clint has lots of duties at this moot! She stays around the unicorn pack, in a quite way. The wolf seems alert.

<Jag> On spotting the FDR Gnawers, Jag's smile is radiant. Her arm raises to offer a sweeping 'scoop' of her arm, beckoning them over for a greeting hand-clasp and some brief, firm greetings if they'll have them. Very brief, considering this point in the moot, but her eyes are lit up with a show of joy that they even came here. Some very real hope in her expression as she looks over toward the Avatar of Raccoon. Accepting Runihura's reassurance with quick touches, of course.

<Lucas> The howl coming to a close the spirits arriving and Lucas turns his gaze upon Lion. He stands up a bit straighter, shoulders back slihtly and the Ahroun nods with reverence and acknowledgment. His lips tighten a bit thinner when he notes the sadness, a sadness he feels but he is unwilling to let in right now.

<Runihura> Runihura takes a long moment to study both the physical racoon Mapa and then the more...spiritual one. He doesn't beam or grin or jump in joy at their presents. Just watches and waits calmly. Trying to be the eye in the center of a storm as others swirl about him.

<Niall> At the gaze of Lion, the sadness is shared. Nonetheless, Niall holds himself up proudly, after giving a bit of a bow to the mighty Lion.

<Lola> Lola, for all the ways she was wild, feral even, she was delicately built under her layers of clothes, and felt her heart beating frantically inside the cage of ribs. There was so much power in the rituals, and the spirits that answered only served to punctuate that. Her eyes blinked rapidly, fighting back a dampness that was not born of sorrow, but awe. Gaia knew their world mingled both in creative ways.

<Rigby> Rigby pays attention to the little critter riding on Liam's shoulder and head, after Jag points her out, and then the whole big ritual thing goes on and there's all kinds of bigass spirits and Rigby takes the time to look at them, the posture of the various totems and associated little guys, and then the avatar of raccoon. He is pretty sure this turn-out is because he brought snacks. He steps a little to make room for the FDR gnawers when Jag greets them.

<Billy> Billy is there, sort of in the back-ish which seems to be his place of preference for these kinds of things, though tonights version of being in the back places him behind the other Unicorn packmembers. He's got somebody close to him this time though, and as the various spirits present themselves and approach their respective packs, if present, he leans in and whispers to that someone. Sorrel, a new face in the Caern.

<Bronwyn> Bronwyn sees the spirits arrive. She takes in a gasp as she sees Lion and Mamoth. A smile spreads , unable to hold itself back and she steps up closer to the pack. She gives them all reassuring smiles, shining with joy in this moment for them. She hugs herself and sways a bit where she stands.

<Clint> Clint pulls a small cloth bag from inside his kevlar and opens it up. A few things get pulled out. A fully intact raw shrimp that's given to Mapa then a little canine form made from wires, a rat carved from a chunk of white stone and a little Twilight Sparkle figure that are presented as offerings to spirits. He looks towards Lion and pulls his new necklec out from inside his shirt to show. One made of twine with curb chain and spikes from Ashylnn's leathers. Mammoth get's a bowed head from the massive man. When he spots the FDR Gnawers he offers them a large smile and double fingerguns.

<Kelli> Kelli stands with her dazzling smile as she sees the spirits arrive. She's almost like a fan girl, waving to them. It's her first time to see Mammoth, and that is quite an impression on the young Theurge. She is respectful, and thrilled with what she is seeing tonight.

<Parnell> Parnell shifts back into his more comfortable homid form after opening the Moot, taking up his place next to his packmates, Ghostwalker and Shot-in-the-Dark, whenever they're not doing something formal for the Moot. The various guests get a practiced squint from the Frankweiler as he takes them all in. It might look like he doesn't approve or something, but really, that's just his face.

<Griffin> And the most important spirit of all...

There will be a dribble of dust from the roof of the cavern, and then a rumbling in the earth beneath your feet (or paws!). And then there will be seen two very bright eyes flashing golden yellow as if reflected in the headlights of a passing vehicle. It is hard to describe Concrete Coyote in purely animalistic terms. He's /not/ just a Coyote spirit... This is not a mischievous trickster spirit. This is a pragmatic survivor. Los Angeles is a hard city. His fur has the hue of gravel, and one could almost imagine the hint of a yellow streak through it, not unlike the painted dividing line on a road. When he's angry he can look like a frightening, savage sentient roadkill. But he's not angry now. He's quick and cautious; a scavenger and an opportunist, but not a coward. Cowards die in this town. His eyes glow like headbeams when he looks directly at you. He's here, and he's watching. And somehow even now, here beneath the earth, there's a lingering sensation of the wind on your face, as if driving down Wilshire Boulevard at midnight.

<River> River watches the arrival of the spirits with mute interest, his eyes lingering on the stalking, silent form of Jaguar more than any other.

<Lynn> When the totems come in, Lynn shifts herself to gaze upon them. The gaze happens to mean she spots the business card - but perhaps she was drawn to it. The others, though, are gazed on with reverence, Lynn's left hand coming up to rest in a loose fist over her heart. But she's driven to give out a "<<welcome back!!>>" to Mammoth once she realizes what, exactly (or rather WHOM) Mammoth actually is.

<Scarred Wolf> Scarred wolf looks to the spirits, dropping down her head in a bit of a wolfy bown and then looking toward them again. She remembers Mammoth and chuffs a little greeting to them. She then then give Unicorn a tail waggle. She keeps quiet though.

<Corey> Corey turns her eyes out to settle on the spirits of Lion and Mammoth. There's a small smile that tugs on her lips, and a respectful bow of her head to both when their eyes turn in her direction, but that expression is not entirely happy either. The sept has felt loss before. It will feel loss again. That doesn't make this loss any easier. And when the eyes of Concrete Coyote himself fall upon her, Corey will return his gaze with her own steely grey. Unafraid of those headbeams. A bow of her head is given to him as well, but she'll let her eyes drift shut shortly after. She's enjoying the feeling of that sensation of wind on her face for however long it lasts. Impossible as it is.

<Freya> Freya is quiet as she watches the carousel of joining spirits- almost eerily so. Whether reverence, or something else, she watches each spirit, greeting it with a glance and a subtle praise of feeling- but until Concrete Coyote's arrival, those eyes lock on Jaguar's shape among the menagerie of Totems.

<Mapa> The bigger, and more predatory spirits really ought to concern poor Mapa more. But in the presence of Raccoon, she can't help but be calmed. Her furry little form practically melts into a fluid atop Liam-- and she even has to take a moment to scramble with her back feet to stay on his back! Her anxious eyes soften, and she looses with a very satisfied trilling sound to watch the procession.

Her moment of reverie will be interrupted when Clint pulls out those raw shrimp and offers them to her! She blinks, and grabs a handful of Liam's hair so she can reach out to accept them. She'll place them on top of Liam's hair, then blink at them more, and then politely make them disappear, as though by magic. Its not magic, but she's very good with those little paws of hers.

<Adeline> One by one the various totems manifest, each one more majestic than the next. While the arrival of Lion and Mammoth do drawn the attention of Adeline, mostly because of the stories surrounding them, it is te presence of Unicorn which seems to inspire the childlike wonder and widening of her eyes the most... her hand absently reaching to finger the little unicorn charm upon her necklace silently in return. Her gaze slowly flits on back to rest upon Liam, watching him through all of it and the raccoon upon his shoulder.

<Atzi> Atzi dips her head in deep nod to the totem spirits, but a little deeper to Unicorn and the Concrete Coyote - a slow wag of tail and perk of ears paired to it. Greeting the Sept's totem as if kin she is happy to meet.

<Silas> Silas steps forward as the time for the Truthcatcher's part arrives. He lifts the curved rib of a large animal over his head. And speaking with the polish of his British accent, he lifts his resonant voice over the gathering in a simple announcement. "The Cracking of the Bone."

He does not need to explain what this means. All will know this as the time for Sept business. For challenges and disputes. Judgements and resolutions. Each will have a chance to speak in accordance with their rank. And all present should know well the consequences of speaking without the bone in hand. Beware the pranks of the Fool as well as renown loss they who speak out of turn.

Silas turns to the Sept Leader first and offers over the curved blade of a rib should he wish to speak.

<Jag> Jag turns her attention toward the figure of Concrete Coyote as he rises up as well, bowing her head toward the headlight-eyed figure. She gives a soft murmur of Punjabi, a worshipful tone to the short stream of words, letting it die off, then.

<Nathan> As things progress, Nathan glances over to Lion and Mammoth as they enter. His arms cross, and he gives the new spirits a respectful nod after giving one to the business card.

<Mike> Mike looks out at the spirits and he rests his hands on both Bron and Lucas, then he moves down stand with Niall looking towards Meg then the spirits. Though Mike's gaze fall back onto the spirits of Lion and Mamoth, the Ragabash Coggie focuses on them, mainly Lion and bows his head respectfully to them both.

<Alicia> Alicia watches all the different spirits arriving at the caern's heart. She notices they seem to be in good spirit today. She turns her attention to the truthcatcher as the next stage of the moot approaches.

<River> River waits in silence through the cracking of the bone, without business to bring forward.

<Nikolai> Wars with Words carefully watches the Lion totem before bowing before it, his frame of the lupus seems relax at least for the moment as he stand near Niall of the rest of the pack.

<Liam> Liam's watched the procession of spirits before, there's a certain sadness to see Lion and Mammoth, though for entirely different reasons each of them. One lost a champion, the other lost their whole pack. A stalwart resolution is made in his mind though and the Alpha straightens when the bone is offered over to him. Taking it in one hand, he considers for what seems like a small eternity.

"It's hard to believe that a year ago, we were four officers, and a bunch of Fostern and Cliaths trying desperately to live up to the expectations set on them. I would like to say that you all have done well, but I can't. There have been mistakes, there have been egos, there have been assumptions made without taking it up the proper chain. Some of the deaths that've occurred didn't need to, shouldn't have had to. I won't be making those mistakes any more, and neither will you. Those that stray won't be given the leeway to do so again, Punishments will be meted out, and the expectation is that we won't have any more of these problems while we're at war on two sides. I love you all on purpose, but the time to get your shit together has come and gone."

"That said, there is also reason to be proud, there are spirits lining up to witness things that haven't happened in years. There is cause for celebration as well as resolution. The question is no longer do you have the courage to keep going, it's whether or not you have the constitution to do what needs to be done. I'm here with you all, shoulder-to-shoulder. From hell to home," as an homage to a fallen sister. Then he passes the bone back to Silas and falls to silence while he returns to his spot.

<Piper> Piper's own attention is of course laser focused on that business card, but Mammoth's arrival gets an impressed look, sheer size along with the newness of his re-appearance. Other spirits also recognized and respectfully greeted. As the Cracking of the Bone begins and Liam brings his serious reminder of the dangers of their home and the expectations/requirements of them all, she solemnly nods along.

<Lucas> Courage to keep going. Constitution to continue.

Lucas almost growls out his affirmative, a homid rumble. The warrior resolute, but the energy is almost physically coming off of him. He clearly is honed in on the events of the moot today, not just for what it means to the pack, but the future.

<Meg> After Liam gives his speech, Meg begins her preparations for ... whatever she's gonna do later. Quietly, she begins to take things out of her sack of doom. Simple stuff, really: some dried sage; an ashtray; a lighter. That's it.

<Niall> There's a slight bow and nod from Niall as well. He listens and sets his jaw. It's a look of determination.

<Jag> Jag has to brace against not crying out into the room, since it's the time when only those holding the bone can talk. Her lips have to press together tighter, a breath sucked in and let out in a shuddering release of energy. Nervous and excitement in one. She shoulder-presses her packmates to help disperse some of the energy, though she also is stepped forward just a bit. As the Fostern of the pack, she'll be getting the bone before them, after all.

<Storms-at-Dusk> The black wolf hangs his head a bit at the words, though there is no disagreement given to any of them. Dusk only offers a side-glance his way, as he looks out over the sept to gauge the reactions of those gathered.

<Alicia> Alicia tilts her head as she listens to Liam, wondering who is going to get punished first and for what. Though perhaps it was all hypothetical. She looks over to the next person to speak.

<Clint> Clint listens to Liam's speech and nods along with it. Fingers wrap around his necklace and he grasps it tightly as his eyes close and head bows a bit. Eyes open and he lets go of the necklace as he steps in towards Liam to lower his head for a bonk and moves back to his spot.

<Scarred Wolf> Scarred wolf looks to Liam with close and respectful attention as he speaks. She keeps quiet though.

<Lola> Lola lowered slowly to a crouch, violet eyes watching as the door to business unfolded, a skilled observer, she used Liam's words to add a little more depth to the history of the city she'd recently moved to, to fill in blanks, and take in the tone of Liam's words, and the implications of what the expectation going forward would be.

<Bronwyn> Bronwyn gives a little shiver at Liam's powerful speech and she beams a smile up at their alpha. She looks around to those gathered there, hope in her eyes. She looks to Lucas and Niall, to Meg and to Nikolai and she nods with approval and folds her hands before her.

<Atzi> Atzi's ears flick back, momentarily slicking to her skull before pricking forward again. While she listens intently, she's also offering that same attentive tail wag of silent lupine greeting to the other, more urban spirits her lineage is bound to.

<Runihura> Runihura remains watchful. If the speech has any emotional impact it of course does not show on his face. Runihura keeps things forever, close to the chest.

<River> River listens mutely, eyes hard but expression soft beneath that half-masking coat of dried blood. He would speak last among his pack, and perhaps among all Garou here. He does what decorum demands: keeps quiet and degers to his betters, despite the passions that stir within.

<Kelli> Kelli is reverent as the speeches are made. Nothing to do but listen and learn here tonight.

<Ghostwalker> Despite the sadness that Lion and Mammoth bring with them, the Caller of the Wyld watches over the procession of Spirits file in with a look that could be described as pride bridled with relief. After Concrete Coyote takes his seat and the Truthcatcher cracks the bone, he looks to Peacekeeper. An austere nod follows what the Sept Leader says, as if he agreed or at least had seen these halls far more empty of both Garou and of Spirits.

His eyes trace the faces that afar that have come to visit, catching the light of the bonfires as he finds both the Chicano Men and the Cal-Tech student. Greg gets a curious look, but as for now Ghostwalker remains silent as his lungs were still burning from calling the spirits.

<Alexander> And then, as if right on cue, forms appear on the horizon, slowly walking the Moon Bridge.

The first, is something straight out of an ancient mural. A Crinos, bearing fur of perfect silver-white that almost glistens as the light catches it, marked only by a deep vivid blue war paint across his form. His manner of dress is anachronistic, at odds with the typical Urrah dress; two metal pauldrons sit atop leather shoulderpads, matched by fur-lined leather and steel gauntlets. A matching belt holds a long royal blue loincloth and tabard in place over his lower half, adorned by a tightly-woven decorative cord of rich red. And then there's the blade affixed to it: a magnificent sword nearly three feet in length, forged from thick silver in a style not seen for centuries, and adorned with dozens of runes along the blade. Much like those who encountered Foebiter's statue, being in the immediate presence of this much silver is almost off-putting. Truly, a grand klaive.

In stark contrast is the man that follows this figure. An older man sporting a hairline almost completely receded with only the thinnest, shortest buzz of long-faded hair doing little to conceal his scalp. His gaunt face sags, leaving his expression almost a perpetual frown, matched only by dark eyes that seem permanently fixed in a furrowed leer. Unlike his companion, he's dressed in all-black, a mix of modern tactical wear with a blackened leather chestpiece and neckwrap. No looks are exchanged with any of the Sept save for Only-Ghosts, the one other present who rivals him in terms of age.

The white-furred Crinos looks across the Sept, eyes immediately locking on the three well-dressed Silver Fangs, who adopt serious expressions and fall in line in the wake of the white beast. Stopping in the center of the gathering, he waits, one hand rested on the massive hilt and pommel of the klaive. A brief look to Liam, before his attention turns to Silas, the Truthcatcher, and the bone he carries. There is little question by his demeanor that he outranks most present.

<Storms-at-Dusk> Dusk's fur bristles in a wave at the new arrival. And instincts rooted deep has his ears flattening, tail stilling, as he lowers his posture out of reflexive deference to his arrival.

<Wovoka Jones> Wovoka Jones offers Alexander a brief glance, but he's really got more important stuff than that guy going on right now. Awkward timing! Get off the stage, bro!

<Rigby> Rigby isn't the talkiest at the best of times, so it suits him just fine to be quiet, his fingers kept busy by a pack of that one-sided metallic colored origami paper, idly folding different shapes, seeming to make different little thingies for each of the spirits in attendance, which disappear onto the ground or are scooted into the crowd, to go live their lives wild or whatever they do.

<Mike> Looking towards Liam, taking in what he's saying. Mike the one who's always wanting to leave these things, but that speech causes him to keep where he is and he takes in a breath. He does step back a step as he looks at each member of his pack, and his friend Bronwyn, the new member it looks like Nikolai. Mike smiles, he looks towards the spirits, his hands go into his pockets as he watches them, still awed at what he's seeing. Seeing the Concrete Coyote, Mike closes his eyes for only a few moments and he opens his eyes and lets out a small smile. He knows what he will do.

<Niall> The arrival of the Crinos'd Fang causes Niall to snear a bit. He bristles a bit. There is still a respectful bow of his head to the Athro. He looks to Liam and then Silas. He shifts his stance a bit to brace.

<Lucas> Gaze torn from Lion and Liam, Lucas lets his eyes fall upon the Silver Fangs. There is a long exhale from the Child of Gaia warrior, a nod of respect to the Silver Fang pack from the warrior. HIs eyes scan them, one at a time, its a full assessment and he doesn't hide it. Tactical and careful consideration all wrapped up in the respect for not just the rank and deed, but also the honor that it /takes/ to carry the burdern of that Grand Klaive.

<Runihura> There's a slight furrow to Runihura's brow at the arrival of Alexander. The only indication of any personal feelings he may have to the tribe. He glances to Jag and then to Rigby as if to gauge their reaction.

<Atzi> Atzi's ears slick back again, the Fostern Ragabash going rom siting primly to laying. Being smaller and less noticeable seems like a good idea.

<Nikolai> Wars with Words shakes his head and stand at the ready, the words of Liam are met with open ears, however the new arrivals are watched with a defensive posture, He step infront of Bronwyn, however the wolf gesture over to lola to come near, something doesn't seem quite right, however seeing Niall bow, War also bows his head with cautions respect, the eyes never leave the silver fangs.

<Piper> Piper might not have fur in her homid form, but hackles definitely rise with the heebie jeebies of the stranger arriving with a Grand Klaive. Sure... she may have an idea who the white faced Crinos is, but eeeesh, the silver. She does her best to hide her discomfort with arms crossed as she quietly watches for what is clearly the next one to claim the Bone.

<Declan> Declan's emotions ebb and flow as the moot starts with the howl, the procession of spirits, and the repremanding yet empassioned speech. Crossing his arms, he listens to what is being said and settles in for just another moot when the moon bridge opens, and the trio of Fangs step across. He mutters something to himself under his breath in Korean...something he heard his father say almost every day of his life. He then lets out a long sigh and crosses his arms across his chest in a slightly irritated stance.

<Jag> Jag's reactions are to watch Alexander warily, the Bone Gnawer metis' feelings fairly clear, though she respectfully holds both her tongue and her glare. Nostrils bilow wide as she breathes deeply, maybe trying to commit scent to memory. Or breathe through agitation that had already been there, albeit for a different reason. Again, a slight lean on her packmates. Literally. Contact against them to both disperse some of the nervous energy and to show solidarity. And yet, there's intrigued looks at the armor. Wanting to give it a poke and prod.

<Lynn> Lynn watches as Liam speaks to them. There is praise and there is blame. Lynn has not drunk deep of either, which spurs her inside. And then afterwards - something...

Shining in moonlight comes the Garou. Lynn's jaw tightens for a moment, her eyes running over both Alexander and his escort. Her hands go back to parade-rest behind her back.

<Clint> Clint takes a look around at the faces as the new arrival makes his entrance. His lips pull up into a smile and he lifts his hand up as high as he can to give it a wave to greet them. A wave to for the leader then to the rest of the pack.

<Adeline> The arrival of the Fangs inspires a straightening of the Coggie Kinfolk's posture, as Adeline makes no attempt to hide her open observation of them. Her head tilts slightly to the side, the woman clearly silent yet apprehensive as her gaze slips between Alexander and Liam and back again, curiousity written openly across her features.

<Freya> The Get are swayed by one thing- and that's strength. Clearly, this new arrival is showing it, but is it merely pomp or is the presence warranted? Freya's lips lift into a subtle grin as she eyes the old wolf up, an electric air of excitement slowly building in her hide, hackles bristling at the massive silver blade. Either way, it would be *interesting* to see how this played out.

<Nathan> As Alexander steps into view, Nathan glances in that direction, and he gives a respectful nod to Alexander. Apparently, the Shadow Lord can be respectful to Silver Fangs.

<Bronwyn> Bronwyn may be a tiny thing and when Nikolai steps in front of her she looks up to him but then she leans to the side juuuuust a little to take in the impressive form of Alexander. Her eyes go wide and though she doesn't make a sound her lips form a little 'ooooo'. He's pretttty epic after all.

<Lola> Lola was not ready for this unveiling, a hand braced the ground where she couched, and violet eyes watched, unflinching, unable to tear away her gaze from this surprise arrival. Her peripheral catches site of the gesture from Nikolai, and she doesn't question it, slowly rising, and trying to make her way to him, as calmly, and carefully as she could. It was important not to look like it was any sort of retreat, because one rule seemed universal. If you run, they must chase. Without a word she slipped behind the man , a quick glance to Bronwyn.

But hey Lola still was who she was, and her head peeked to the side, violet eyes demanding she still watch!

<Silas> Silas inclines his head and listens with a dignified reserve as the Sept Alpha addresses the gathering. He casts sharp glances at those who dare make so much as a sound out of turn. The fool mets out punishment and pranks, but the Truthcatcher has been known to supplement with sharp raps of his cane.

He recieves the bone back with a nod of respect before turning to the next. His attention goes first to Only-Ghosts-Behind-Him. But before the Truthcatcher can offer it to the next speaker, he stills as forms appear on the horizon.

There is little question of his rank. And little registers on Silas' smooth features. He casts the briefest glance off towards the Sept's Master of the Challenge before making his approach towards the white-furred Crinos. He moves without haste, allowing anticipation to build within the Sept. Standing before the white-furred Crinos, the Truthcatcher offers over the curved bone.

<Only-Ghosts> With the arrival of the hour present, there's but a brief exchange of glances from Only-Ghosts to the two. Silas's offer of the bone is nodded off with a faint smile, the aging Gatekeeper instead turning towards the rear of the caern, to begin the slow, meticulous process of resetting the caern back to it's usual state, in preparation for the closing of the Moot.

<Mapa> As the unfamiliar visitors walk the moonlight into the Bawn, Mapa can't help but grow very still atop Liam. Her darkly masked eyes blink, and then go wide in curiosity. Her ears twitch as she focuses her attention on them. The swishing of her tail grows to a standstill, and then flattens limply. She can't take her eyes off the silver-furred Crinos, but only Liam will feel how her paws tighten in their grip upon him.

<Liam> Liam reaches up on instinct at the Moonbridge opening up, his hand helping Mapa stay stable, and avoid tumbling over as he adjusts. His ocean blue eyes fixate on the Fang that steps into the Caern. There's no denying that Alexander cuts quite the first impression, but the Athro is older than some of the other wolves, while there is wariness and awe in equal measure, the Alpha seems attentive but otherwise un-whelmed in either direction.

<Alexander> The shift is fluid, almost artistic. And most definitely well-practiced, as the white-furred crinos adopts the form of a blonde-haired man, who would not look out of place among the faces of Hollywood, California; garbed in that ancient Garou style, he's almost right off the set of some gladiator-based TV show or movie. His form retains the warpaint of his tribe, and those behind him can be thankful the warrior's getup is dedicated, leaving the crucial bits covered by cloth and tabard. Taking the bone, there is a near-imperceptable nod towards the Truthcatcher. And when he speaks, comes not the sound of what one might expect of a Silver Fang. No, each and every word are pronounced in a distinctly Californian-style west coast accent, spoken from a face that carries a distant, stoic expression.

"Alexander, rited Wings-of-Argent-Fury, Athro Ahroun of Clan Crescent Moon, scion of the House of Vasiliev, returns home to the Sept of the Smiling Angel."

Gesturing the older man in black forward, the aged Garou extracts a small box, walking up to the base of the Smiling Angel, where the visage of the Caern's Totem lingers, and places it down in front, wordlessly. It's Alexander who speaks. "I give to Concrete Coyote our offering. May the spirit find our gift acceptable." The tone is crisp, clean, and clearly American. Carrying with it a resounding note of authority that lends an air to his 'requests' more of a sense of it being declared so. As the older man slowly returns to his feet, he'll rejoin the group of five, turning his attention to Liam. "I believe my pack has already made their introductions. May I introduce Morozov, Athro Theurge," a brief incline of his head towards the older man.

"We, are Falcon's Talons."

<Ghostwalker> Addison turns to regard the Ahroun that approaches. He didn't have to ask the rank of this wolf. Some things could just be sensed. Indeed Rank was more than just a martial pecking order, but there was something intensely supranatural about it as well. The Uktena Adren looks to this new Athro as he steps up to take the Bone.

Behind his glasses, his brows lift with a keen edge of surprise that upon assuming his homid form, there's no stiff and heavy Russian accent that burgeons the Silver Fang's voice. Though he'd surely heard the rumors, it still comes as a mild shock that Alexander sounds so... local...

<Kelli> Kelli watches and sees the Athro enter and stands almost at attention. Not really sure with someone of his stature and tribe. Hanging off his words, this seems like it is quite a time to have arrived tonight.

<Meg> Meg remains where she is on her blanket: prepared (sort of); kneeling; and silent. Waiting. (It's the worst part.)

<Lucas> The show. The spectacle of it, gets only a nod from Lucas. Oh, its somethng, and he can't help but be a little impressed...but not in the show, in the Athro's deeds he has heard of so far. Who he has fought beside. That means more than the presentation to him. A considered sign of respect to each of the pack and then he turns his attention back to the Alexander. Almost as if he expects something to be added.

<Silas> Silas returns the subtle nod with a slight incline of his head. Then stepping back, he plants his cane and rests both hands over across its brass handle. He listens without expression, casting only occasional glances across the sept should any dare so much as clear their throat.

<Bronwyn> Bronwyn sees Lola come up beside her. She turns her head to look at the fellow kinfolk and she offers her a soft, reassuring smile and if allowed will even reach out and give the girl a hug. She reaches out and touches Nikolai's back gently just to let him know they are alright before letting her hand fall back to her side and peeks at Niall, Meg and Lucas to guage their reactions to the new folks coming in before her gaze slides right on back to Alexander as he speaks, interesting stuff is happening!

<Nikolai> Wars with words doesn't move a muscle, he is lock into place, at the ready, his breathing is shallow as he continue to observe Alexander and the other arrivals, however as soon as the two kinfolk seem to be safety protected, War seem to calm himself down a bit, only a bit.

<Scarred Wolf> Scarred wolf is still quietly here. She looks to Alexander with curious interest, but doesn't let her eye contact linger. Her silence remains.

<Atzi> Atzi glances sidelong to Clint, the huge dude happily waving to the newcomers like that. Encouraged, her posture relaxes, though bears deference to the pack of Fangs. She moves in a little tighter to Silverhoof, closing the ranks slightly and sitting back up.

<Alexander> "Our business tonight is brief," Alexander begins again, the expression on his face unchanging. "I lay claim to the land of my forefather. From Silver Lake, through Griffith Park, is the territory of Falcon's Talons once more." There's no heed given to the looks and chatter that occur behind him, as he continues in a tone that resounds loud and clear within the unique cistern underneath Skid Row. "Every trace of the Wyrm that has mistakenly assumed it to be their land will be put to blade and claw, and the territory will be returned to its rightful place in the Protectorate of Los Angeles. Those who yearn for Glory, I welcome as allies." A short pause, as his gaze levels on Liam with his proclamation. And then, the ever so slightest of a nod is given to the similarly-aged Californian. "May the honored Alpha of the Smiling Angel recognize our claim to this territory, and in service to this Sept."

Turning his attention upward, he offers the first smile of the night, as his gaze meets Falcon. "Shall we?" With that, Alexander places the bone back in the hands of the Truthcatcher. It's Falcon who sounds out of turn, letting out a deep, resounding cry of elation that echoes through the tunnels, as it swoops to perch on the oversized pauldron of the man's left shoulder. A quiet looks is exchanged between Alexander and Morozov, and then the rest of the pack, before the other four begin to make their departure. Clearly, not needing to speak tonight, as Falcon follows them towards the back of the caern. Alexander steps to the side, retaining a position near the front of the gathering, to observe.

<Corey> Corey watches Alexander introduce himself with a curious tip of her head to the side. Her steely grey gaze settles onto his visage, surprised to watch the way that his lips and jaw form words that sound... more Californian than her own. That surprise is not shock on her face, mind you. Just a subtle shift in her expression and body language that goes away as quickly as it settles in. An impressive title. An impressive wolf. Corey turns her shoulder into the choice slab of concrete she's leaning on and watches the introduction quietly and respectfully. But she's jotting mental notes, too. The talk of Silver Lake is pertinent, too. Corey Fischer would quite like to meet with Alexander. And soon.

<Lynn> Lynn takes a deep breath at what Alexander begins with - much of which exhales out as Alexander continues forwards. She reaches up to sweep a hand through her hair, dislodging some passing dust. The obscure misgivings in her heart roil silently in conflict with the urge to kick ass! It's an ongoing struggle.

<Felicity> Felicity looks up long enough to take note of Alexander's entreaty, expression not budging. Much. The corners of her mouth uptick slightly, so there's that hint of maybe approval. Felicity's elbow nudges Corey's with a subtle hint of interest. They'll talk later, when there isn't a Moot going on.

<Rigby> Rigby watches the whitest wolf he's ever seen talk about some White Wolf stuff, but doesn't seem as discomfitted as he might, since that went... Somewhat more chill-ly than one might expect a late arriving teleporting warform werewolf to be, so chalk that up a win.

<River> River listens to the introductions with the look of one impressed, but not as one who underatands the significance of the return of the Fangs.Ah, ignorance!

<Lucas> This claim of territory, seems almost expected. Lucas doesn't say a word, he doesn't seem surprised in the least. His gaze shifting over to Liam, waiting for the Alpha's response. The call for warriors has him almost take a step forward, /almost/. He remains with his pack, but the Ahroun's same anxious energy remains.

<Jag> Jag has to resist an eye-roll at Alexander's 'business', though it's nothing of a surprise, either. Nostrils flare again, taking deep breaths in, deep breath out. It's... not *bad* news. And it *is* their right. It still doesn't lay well on the 'Gnawer, just having to settle her hackles and keep herself silent.

<Silas> Silas narrows his gaze in the direction of that chatter. But the Moot's Fool has their punishments well in hand, and so the Truthcatcher does not move until he steps forward to recieve the bone back. He gazes off after them in silence. But then his attention shifts to Storms-at-Dusk before slowly carrying it to him.

<Nathan> Staring, Nathan watches the group go. There's an ever so slight narrowing of eyes, before he looks away from Alexander to Liam, before he absently offers "Charming bunch." It would sound like sarcasm from anyone else, but Nathan makes it sound serious.

<Atzi> Atzi's posture changes again when the invitation to go to war comes, an almost shy tailwag from the ragabash and a little bob of muzzle o indicate a willingness to go to visit the Fangs.

<Bronwyn> Bronwyn hears the claim and the call for warriors. She watches the new pack and nods, this news expected. She looks back to the pack she stands with, eyes studying them and she watches Lucas a moment. She steps to the side and moves to stand by him, a small hand coming up to touch his arm lightly, left to rest there if allowed. She looks up at him and gives him a reassuring smile.

<Niall> It takes a second, but Niall composes himself. At the call for warriors, Niall looks to Lucas and then back to Alexander. He offers a nod of affirmation. He holds his head up high though, maintaining his bearing. His hand rests casually on the hilt of his sword.

<Runihura> It's no secret many of the Striders have...certain opinions on the claims Silver Fangs make and the importance they put on their blood. Still he remains silent, stoic still watching with that judgmental gaze. As if he is weighing Alexanders heart on a scale against a feather.

<Clint> Clint glances over towards Atzi as she moves and remains silent while listening to Alexander. He gives the man a thumbs up with a nod of his head. Not the alpha, but he approves of anyone to fight back against the wyrm. He grins widely and looks towards each Guardian for a moment before he turns his head back towards Silas and the bone.

<Alicia> Alicia watches and listens to the announcement. She had already heard a bunch of rumors of them taking over the area, so them offically declaring doesn't come as much of a surprise.

<Liam> Liam doesn't seem surprised by anything said, and when spoken to directly he simply nods at Alexander's claims to the former Silver Fang territory. No bone is needed to be passed back to him to speak. There's no flowery words for the simple transaction. No doubt could be spread on Alexander's ability to do what he stated, no warnings need to be given to an Athro Ahroun. The Alpha simply accepts this claim and offers a small salute to the leaving Fangs, watching as Alexander takes himself and Falcon to remain rather front and center. It's a reflexive movement that has him rolling his head under Mapa to put her on the other side of him from the predatory Totem spirit, closer to Raccoon instead.

<Storms-at-Dusk> It's an incredibly stiff act to follow, and it all but takes Silas placing the bone in front of Dusk's maw for him to rise from his instinctively submissive posture. Gripping it briefly, before resting it on his paws, his announcement lacks theatrics, though he does his best to elavate his voice given the subject.

<<Tonight, I recognize Petal, as a Fostern of the Nation.>>

His bright brown eyes finding Petal, his demeanor starting to relax as the regularly-scheduled Moot continues. <<She has proven herself a warrior worthy of acknowledgment. Please, welcome our sister once more.>> With that, he offers a look that permits a momentary breach in etiquette, before picking up the bone and passing it to Silas. His mouth having gone dry in recent moments, sparing the Truthcatcher the usual slobber.

<Adeline> From her seated place upon her little blanket, Adeline watches and listens with rapt attention, clearly weighing the introduction of Alexander and his pack before letting her gaze land fully upon Liam. Biting her lower lip for a moment of contemplation, she finally lets her gaze flit right back to land upon the Fang Athro Ahroun with a polite nod of her head.

<Ghostwalker> Ghostwalker turns to regard Petal. He fixes his dark brown eyes on her and then nods. Witnessed.

<Logan> Better late than never, the dark-dressed Kinfolk emerges from the tunnel just in time for the cracking of the bone. He looks around for any group of kinfolk to migrate towards, since the group he normally hung out with isn't around anymore.

<Jag> Jag, having been given permission to welcome teir sister, does so with loud enthusiasm: "BALLE BALLE!" she calls across the room, hands cupped around her mouth to make sure it carries. And then goes quiet again.

<Piper> As the Master of Challenge gives his announcement and that look inviting the cheers, Piper gives a whoop and a clap of encouragement for the newest fostern, another worthy warrior for the Sept.

<Freya> There's certainly no refute from Freya of the Fang's Right of Cleansing and Right of Discovery to the territory to the north. This very nearly makes them neighbors- and good neighbors to have. Her eyes look to her packmates, subtly suggesting an interest.

<Wovoka Jones> Wovoka Jones gives a mute fist-pump in to the air. Hell yeah, kid.

<Nikolai> War with words seems to finally settles and looks up to his new alpha, then nods to him as he looks to the silver fang and seems to follow suit to some degree, the furs lowers on his back, his tails shift between the two kin before he just takes a seat and watches the rest of the events.

<Billy> Billy relaxes pretty visibly as guests depart, and as the proceedings fall back into their regular pattern he leans back in to whisper to Sorrel again, catching her up what has transpired when it was time to not talk... and then he hears that his packmate has been honored with a well-earned promotion, and he starts clapping and hooting, elbowing Sorrel and smiling and nodding her way encouragingly.

<Mapa> Mapa doesn't need to be told, to get out of Falcon's way. There is not a sinew in her body that would stay still when a raptor is busy swooping joyously through the air! She /scrambles/ across Liam's back, trying her best to tuck herself bodily under his chin, and then defaulting to climbing down onto his arm, to force him to cradle her like a baby, while she watches with Caern ceiling with big, frightened eyes and waits for it to be safe again.

<Scarred Wolf> Petal looks to Silas as he speaks, lifting her muzzle and looking pleased by that announcement. She sits all straight and alert, looking like a proud wolf.

<Lynn> Lynn's misgivings melt at the moving on to the key topic - or perhaps the one that's a link in a really, really long chain. At the declaration regarding Petal, Lynn raises one yellow-jacketed arm and punches the air while whooping! Just one whoop, though.

<Lucas> Lucas glances over to Bronwyn, a short nod, a hand for a moment to her back as if to let her feel his strength and then it falls away. An assurance that he's ok, brief but present. His eyes sweeping to Petal next as the moot continues.

<Silas> Silas breaks his reserve to smile with Storms-at-Dusk's announcement. His gaze follows his in search of Petal in the crowd. And he inclines his head with both pleasure and approval. Her pride is well deserved. But then recieving the bone back, the Truthcatcher sobers a measure. The Sept has time to reflect in silence between each speaker as Silas moves with slow, deliberate steps until arriving before Ghostwalker at last to offer over the bone.

<Rigby> Rigby, in a stunning call-back to the 1990s, makes a woofing noise and rotates his fist in the air. Or perhaps it is a secret exhortation of Tribe Bone Gnawer. Probably that. Probably that.

<Niall> Niall offers a hearty cheer to Petal. It's brief, but heartfelt. He then turns his attention back to the Truthcatcher.

<Lola> Lola hadn't made space for a hug from Bronwyn, not in these circumstances, but she did give the woman an apologetic line of a smile. As the fangs begin to take their leave, she eases further to the side of the group she'd sheltered with, too once again watch those gathered, and share a smile at everyone's celebratory sounds, her violet eyes flicking this way and that, like she's trying to keep track of all the moving pieces and finding it near impossible to do.

<Kelli> Kelli nods slowly as she watches the goings on. There is a genuine smile for Petal and the announcements made. It is always a proud moment to witness this.

<Scarred Wolf> The Scarred Wolf who is Petal looks to Dusk with happy canine eyes an then to Niall. She seems pleased. Although there is still somberness about her.

<Bronwyn> Bronwyn nods to Lucas and steps back once more. She cheers for Petal and looks around the rest of the gathering. She spots Logan and a smile spreads on her lips. She waves to him and motions him over to join!

<Clint> Clint whoops at the announcement for Petal and places fingers in his mouth to whistle loudly. He leans down to give the Scarred Wolf a punch on the shoulder with a big warm smile.

<Declan> With a brief but enthusiastic cheer, Declan claps his hands at the news of the new Fostern. He isn't sure he knows her, but more rank is always good for anyone. He starts to menatally link people together as they group with each other, drawing up pack lines, familial lines, and even love lines. As usual, the longer the crowd stays gathered, the closer the subdivions show themselves.

<Runihura> There's that look Runihura has. Except this time it's leveled on Petal. In normal subdued fashion, he holds out a hand and a thumbs up before slipping it back into his sleeve. From Runihura, that's practically a celebratory jig and a hollaring.

<Scarred Wolf> Petal wolfs when her shoulder is punched. It seems like a happy wolfing though. She lefts the sound fade quickly though not wanting to make too much without the bone.

<Wren> Wren keeps her distance, hanging close to a wall and watching the interactions with the usual neutrality.

<Logan> Logan glances up and watches FAlcon do Falcon things before starting to move over in Bronwyn's direction, giving the woman a small nod as he approaches. Adeline, she of wobbly step and mechanical aptitude, gets a moment as well, Logan actually patting her on the shoulder as he passes. It's the first time he's been to a moot in months and the first he's been to since Tink's death.

<Ghostwalker> Ghostwalker, after observing the formalities with the Silver Fangs and Petal's rise to Fostern, the Adren now looks to the Truthcatcher and Master of the Challenge. Sensing that is now time for his round with the Bone, takes a half-step forward...

<Alexander> Alexander retains a position near the front, but off to the side, to allow proceedings to continue. His posture the entire time retains its stiff, regal air. His attention moving from the Master of Challenges, towards the acknowledged Fostern. As the rest of the Sept celebrates, Alexander turns his head for just a moment towards the rest of his pack and Falcon across the caern, meeting the eyes of one in particular, before giving a small inclination of his head. They remain towards the entrance to the Heart, but look prepared to leave as soon as business concludes.

<Griffin> Much to the discomfort of the visiting packs. The representative from Caltech doesn't pay them too much mind, and there's a few brief whispers between Dante and his fellow Pigeons, but the two Uktena and Gnawers are watching the Silver Fangs with looks that range from annoyed curiosity to smirking disgust.

<Liam> Liam is turned from a perch into a safety blanket of sorts as the racoon scrambles over him and ends up under and in his arm, one curling around her to support the furry bundle of terrified Gaian spirit. A reassuring sound escapes his throat while his eyes follow the celebrations of the new Fostern. He can't help the smile at that, pride at the wolves around him continuing to grow. While the bone continues to pass, he watches the speakers as they're selected in his usual quiet, hopefully providing that wall of trusted wolf between the Kami and her natural predator in Totemic spirit form near by.

<Brandon> Brandon has been standing next to Wren, near the mossy walls of the cavern. He's been unusually complaisant so far this moot. Perhaps he is cowed by Alexander's presence, or the unfamiliar packs; perhaps he is medicated.

<Mike> Announcements, and procolamations, Mike takes it all in. Impressed but watchful of the Silver Fangs, and he then shifts his focus to Liam. Mike taking in what was being said and he smiles as he looks to Petal as she's being acknowledged. He claps for Petal, cheering her on. He looks over towards the rest of his pack, he stops Bronwyn as she steps back. He looks to her then to everyone else, he smiles and looks to what's going on.

<Mike> Announcements, and procolamations, Mike takes it all in. Impressed but watchful of the Silver Fangs, and he then shifts his focus to Liam. Mike taking in what was being said and he smiles as he looks to Petal as she's being acknowledged. He claps for Petal, cheering her on. He looks over towards the rest of his pack, he stops Bronwyn as she steps back almost into him as he was behind the others. He looks to her then to everyone else, he smiles and looks to what's going on.

<Ghostwalker> Addison's lungs still burned from the summoning ceremony. The horn now hangs at his belt. As he takes the Bone in hand, he thumps his chest and clears his throat before speaking. The paint on his face, the classic chalk white and blue-black of the new world Heyoka traditions, catches the light of the Caern heart fires even where stress and sweat have caused the paint to crack.

"Wolves and Kinfolk of the Sept of the Smiling Angel, friends from afar," he pauses to glance at all the visiting packs, thin lips pinching faintly, "you all know me as Ghostwalker, Adren of Uktena's Tribe, Blessed by Old Old Coyote, and Caller of the Wyld of this Sept." He pauses here, swallowing, and reaching up to adjust his glasses. "Some of you might know I have spent many months researching The Primal Storm and its Secrets to the benefit of the Sept and its Questing Packs."

With a final glance to Storms-at-Dusk and his Packmates. "As it is the labor of many hundreds of hours of study. I henceforth claim thus as Personal Territory, as it is my right as a recognized Adren of the Garou Nation."

<Wren> Wren frowns over at Brandon, her brow furrowing.

<Piper> At that announcement, Piper only looks surprised at the mention of Personal Territory. Looking from Addison over towards Dusk and Liam, and then Addison's packmates as well.

<Jag> Jag gives a soft exhalation that could be a restrained snort at Ghostwalker's announcement, lips twitching a couple of times in amusement. She glances over at her pack, silently, one hand coming up. Fingers flick out in a gesture like flicking water from her fingertips. Subtly done, trying not to be noticeable to too many others.

<Lola> Lola's violet eyes fix, unwavering, on Addison as he speaks, her lips a wearing a Mona Lisa of a smile. She'd have new questions for their next chat. Like, what is the Primal Storm?! Besides a bad ass name. But that was for another time. As the man paused in his speaking, she looked around, mentally noting where people were, she had the hyper vigilance of a convict, or a war vet, maybe a kicked puppy, and always tried to know who was around, and what her back was facing. Large gatherings like this were really an act of faith, that the people who were relative strangers still, weren't a threat. But it didn't come instinctively.

<Liam> As people seem to be looking to him for an opinion, the Alpha simply shrugs, a chin-nod towards the Ragabash. Liam has long been a proponent of 'if you can walk the talk, then prove it'.

<Parnell> Parnell's been here the whole time, right? Sure he has. He's looked suitably skeptical about Alexander, he gave Petal a big thumbs up when she became Fostern, and now he's taking in Addison with obvious interest, but perhaps not surprise. One ink-stained hand goes up to stroke his chin, and he arches an eyebrow over at Piper as she looks their way.

<Storms-at-Dusk> Looking out over the Sept for a few moments, to gauge if there are any challenges to this, Dusk looks towards Addison and his packmates. <<With your allies and the blessing of Coyote, your claim to La Brea is known.>> There's sure to be an unspoken undertone of 'Respect the Territory of Another' when it comes to the Adren Ragabash or the new Athro Ahroun, and certainly the packs to follow. He then nods to Addison and Silas.

<Lynn> Lynn slides her hands into her jacket pockets and frowns slightly at the declaration. She nods slowly, once; she had no plans for the Primal Storm. Though she does glance momentarily towards Piper, it may be a nuance for later.

<Atzi> Atzi lupus sneezes mightily.

<Niall> Niall tilts his head a bit at Addison's claim. He doesn't seem bothered one way or the other.

<Lucas> Addisons declaration causes a slight furrow of Lucas' brow. Not because he wants any of the territory, it's not a matter of concern there. Something...else. His gaze remains steady though and simply sweep past Mammoth and settle back on Lion.

<Silas> Silas gives a faint smile as his alpha steps forward to make his claim. And he meets that glance with a steady gaze. Once Ghostwalker has spoken his piece, the Truthcatcher steps forward to recieve back the bone with a slight nod. The Sept is left to mull over his claim until the bone arrives in Piper's hands.

<Piper> "As my fellow Glasswalkers know, the ending of a year is a time to remember those things you love most, look back on the failures and successes and also to work to move past your own limitations and envision the year ahead. We have a ritual for this, but there is traditionally a good amount of preparations to get into the right mind-space for this ritual. We eat, we drink, we party, and sometimes we fight until we break free of our old ways of thinking and find new ones and so we'll be doing this in Dutch's this weekend. Others may join in those festivities as long as they're mindful of the purpose and the intent. The rite itself will be a more private affair, tribe only." Piper confidently makes her own quick announcement and hands the bone back to Silas.

<Alicia> Alicia looks around, waiting to see if there are any more announcements that need to be made. She tilts her head slightly as she looks over to Addison and listens to his announcement. She has no idea what he is talking about but she is curious.

<Logan> Logan could say he was the president of Skid Row, but it wouldn't make it so. Whatever this Primal Storm is, it sounds a) very Spirity and b) totally not his thing, but Garou being Garou, this is probably a Big Deal to some of them. IT'll be interesting to see how this hashes out.

<Bronwyn> Bronwyn is stopped in her backing away and she looks up at Mike. She gives him a grin and stays still, not backing up more but standing with them. When Logan comes over she gives him a reassuring smile and mouths "Glad you're here." but doesn't actually speak it. She focuses her attention on Addison as he speaks and claims the primal storm.

<Freya> The claim over the Primal Storm she'd seen with her own eyes and already been instructed on once by the Adren prompts another lift of interest from Winter's-Fury. She'd been wanting to learn more of the place herself when time permits- and Ghostwalker seemed willing to impart what he'd found.

<Kelli> Kelli narrows her eyes a bit as she tries to search her memories for any mention of a primal storm. It seems like she should, but she does not and will have to ask later.

<Adeline> When Addison stakes his claim, Adeline cranes her head over her shoulder to regard him, flashing a warm smile in return from her seated space upon her blanket before finally letting her focus shift on over towards the Talesinger. Her legs unfurl from their crossed position, stretching out a bit in front of her... body leaning forward a bit to rub them slightly while listening to the proceedings around her.

<Alexander> There's no reaction from the face of Alexander, maintaining that distant stoic gaze as he turns to each speaker in turn. Addison's claim of territory, then Piper's announcement of the Urrah festival. The Fangs in the back exchange looks with each other, their expression suggesting some sort of unspoken conversation between those deeply bound to a totem.

<Brandon> Brandon shrugs back at Wren, complaisance unwavering, but hits her shoulder at the mention of the Glass Walker rituals. He's a Glass Walker. That's his Alpha. He feels he has to contribute his support, however 'complaisant' he may be. He struggles to figure out how to do this without talking, and eventually settles on bleary thumbs-ups which rove about at random.

<Mapa> As the moot goes on, and the visitors prove less than hostile-- and most importantly, Falcon stops their swooping about the Caern-- it will only be natural for a certain little raccoon, to eventually find herself with drifting eyes. It is very cozy and warm, after all, to expect Mapa to stay away! She'll do her best not to let the commotion and the warmth of bodies not lull her into a blissful slumber, but. There in the crook of Liam's arm, she genuinely can't help it. Its too warm and safe here in the Caern, and especially when she's got such a muscular bed to relax on.

Like magic, she'll fish the prawn from earlier out of the folds of Liam's robe, then set it in front of her. Her eyes gleam hungrily as she looks at it, but. There's something stopping her from digging in. It will remain there on Liam's forearm, even as Mapa's eyes begin to drift shut, and her furry little head loses altitude. Finally her chin finds a warm, shrimp-y pillow before her, and she wanders into a peaceful slumber.

<Silas> Silas tilts his head with interest as Piper opens the Glasswalker tradition to the whole of the Sept. He recieves the bone back with a smile and carries it onwards to Billy.

<Billy> Billy, Black-Thumb or Billybones to some, steps forward bone in hand. He clears his throat and shifts around some, not exactly comfortable talking before the whole group given that he doesn't talk much at all. "I have brought us a Kinfolk who has been lost. This is Sorrel Tierney, she is daughter to Kai Kotori who you may have known as Bright-Sun from Arizona, he was son of..." And he goes on, naming off generations of the young woman's ancestors by their rite names and their human names, just in case.

"She is an old friend of my family's and under my protection, I will be responsible for her behavior. I ask for patience and understanding, as she has been forcibly kept from our culture and our ways. I have brought her here so that she may learn them, but I am no great teacher, so I ask also that you help her to learn or history and our customs, so that she may have a home among us here." There's a pause and he starts to return the bone only to pause and add, "It is my fault that she does not have another home now, and I need your help to make up for that. Thank you." And then the bone is returned and he steps back, hiding his hands in his pockets before leaning back in to Sorrel for more whispering about the proceedings.

<Wovoka Jones> Wovoka Jones regards Sorrel with open curiousity... and a faintly furrowed brow. Interesting...

<Jag> Jag looks over toward Billy at this announcement, looking inquisitive. But she otherwise keeps her mouth shut, of course. Her look drifts again to Sorrel, taking the woman in, and the inquisitive look turns to a brief, toothless smile her way as a warm and silent greeting and welcome. And then it's back to listening.

<Lynn> "Gonna be LIT" is Lynn's contribution to the news of the Days being open to all. She starts drifting towards Brandon, for reasons that are unclear.

She listens through Billy's statement. She listens to the entire thing before asking Brandon something, quietly.

<Silas> Silas notes Sorrel with a glance before recieving the bone once more. He casts one last look across the Caern for Fosterns who wish to speak before carrying the bone on to Alicia.

<Alicia> Alicia takes the bone and looks around for a moment, briefly glancing at Addison before looking at everyone else. "I think if you discover a super cool place with hidden secrets inside of it, you should tell your fellow sept mates instead of hoarding the knowledge for yourself. That is all." She hands the bone back.

<Logan> "If you need a space for her to call home, the Last Resort has plenty." Logan calls out.

<Brandon> Brandon looks with some interest as he realizes Billy is speaking: he knows this guy. Then he looks at Sorrel. Wait, he knows this girl too, or at least his expression is confused and surprised. He rubs at his eyeballs with the palms of his hands until everything in the cavern is a blur, and looks again. This fails to help.

<Sorrel> Sorrel Stood still and quiet, wide-eyed, as Billy introduced her. No eyecontact with anyone, and she sidled closer to him when it was all over. Not one used to being the center of attention, however brief.

<Silas> Silas pauses as Lynn and then Logan dare speak out of turn. If the Fool does not meet them with terrible fates, they will indeed recieve sharp jabs of Silas' obsidian cane. The Trutchatcher will then return to recieve back the bone from the last to speak.

With no further business, Silas brings the cracking of the bone to its conclusion. There before the Sept, Silas places one end of the bone on the ground. And holding it firmly, angled, he lifts his foot and slams it down onto its flat side. The curved rib breaks with a sharp CRACK.

<Niall> Niall furrows his brow, disapprovingly, at Alicia. But he doesn't have the bone and it's not his place. He just shakes his head and looks back to where the bone goes next.

<Wren> Wren studies Sorrel with quiet eyes, and then looks over to Logan when he speaks. Something changes her expression very briefly.

<Lucas> Eyes sweep across to Alicia, and settle there for a moment. He is pulled from whatever thoughts he had when Silas cracks the bone. His gaze leaving the cliath and moving on in silence.

<Alexander> As soon as the bone cracks, Alexander looks over to his packmates across the way. Their relaxed demeanors sharpen almost immediately, and with that, the four of them make their way out of the Heart of the Caern, led by the blonde Galliard with Falcon slowly floating over them, dissipating back into the umbral. Now, Alexander's attention turns towards the Caller of the Wyld; seemingly familiar with the urrah ways of pack formation, watches the next affair unfold.

<Freya> With the bone finally snapped, Freya gathers her things for the rites that were to come, though a cold look of disapproval lands on Alicia. Rarely did the Fian and a Get agree with each other openly.

<Declan> With a smile, Declan looks at Alicia, his eye raised appraisingly. He doesn't say anything, obviously not his turn, if he's going to take one, but he shows some amusement with the expression. When the Fangs decide they should leave, the smile drops off, and he watches them go.

<Ghostwalker> Addison takes a step back, resuming an austere expression when met with all those curious looks upon him regarding The Primal Storm. Piper's announcement is met with an approving look, but also a wry 'let's talk later' wink, which might have been the most Ragabash thing he's done all evening.

Billy's announcement causes the ranking Uktena's head to turn. First to Billy, then to Sorrel who is regarded with a scrutinizing squint. Her copper hair is reflected in his glasses. At least until Alicia speaks up again. Instead of taking the bone again, he just looks over the edges of his glasses at her, giving her this dubious look.

It would be immensely foolish of Alicia to presume that he hadn't, after all it had been in his declaration. It's the sort of look a professor would give you, if he believed you'd just said something patently bogus. Yes, Addison can manage this in an expression. He's got the eyebrows for it.

Addison then takes a half step forward, perparing for the Rite of the Totem to henceforth commence. He looks to... Wovoka, Niall, and then Alexander accordingly.

<Corey> Corey smooths her hands over her leggings and, since she's standing here awkwardly anyway, figures this is as good a time as any to do a bit of campaigning. "Hello, everyone. I am Corey Fischer, Blood-Stains in the wolf's tongue, Cliath Philodox for the Children of Gaia. As you may have heard, Felicity, Brightens-the-Day, and myself have been heading up efforts to clean up the Las Angeles river. Our efforts have taken us from the south, to the north, near Frog Town and the Elysian Valley," she says. For a moment, she pauses, and gives a brief glance in the direction of Alexander, should she be able to find him in the crowd. There was that... sense of being watched, after all. From the direction of Silver Lake.

"We intend to meet with the spirit of Old Oak. To work along side Him, learn from Her, and, gaia willing, potentially bind Them to our forming pack. If you have interest in joining our efforts, well..."

Corey dips her head a little, looking genuinely grateful (and maybe a little bit embarrassed about succumbing to the fox (she's quite fast too)). "It would be our honor. Thank you."

<Lola> Lola's brows tug together, but the expression lasts only a moment, before the kin reigns it in, to something more neutral. Though her keen violet eyes rove over the expressions of others, to see how the commentary has landed. Smoothing the black blazer she's wearing, over a flowing white dress shirt. The outfit does not offer the normal billowing armor she's use to, but still does a fair job of hiding her figure.

<Griffin> It appears in a breach of local tradition, or perhaps owing to the sheer force of character that is the Silver Fang, it seems that Falcon has already chosen his pack, beyond the normal rites. An interesting omen, indeed.

<Wren> Wren narrows her eyes a little, watching the falcon briefly and then searching out a few others in the crowd.

<Jag> Jag gives armslings briefly to the other two in her pack, then steps up along with the others, preparing for the Rite as well. Whenever it is her turn for the Rite Of The Totem, Jag's expression serious as she steadies herself with her pack. Preparing for the big moment.

<Wovoka Jones> Wovoka Jones exhales, striding forward, his eyes on Jaguar. He's silent. His packmates will do the talking.

<Meg> Meg seems to be ready. She has her sage, lighter, and tray. And blanket. What else could she possibly need? Right now, she's got her eyes shut, as if she were deep in concentration, meditation, or prayer. Or a little of all.

<Nikolai> Nikolai crosses his paws as he lay there and watches social mistake and if a wolf could wince, he would, his eyes drift back between the pack and the folk, making sure they are all fine before turn his attention back to the holder of the bone and listening, his ear however seem to relax as he listen. However as the shift to the next topic occur, he perk up a bit.

<Bronwyn> Bronwyn sees that things are moving along. Her tension grows and her eyes shift over to look at Lion. She purses her lips and looks both excited and nervous at the same time.

<Runihura> Wovoka and Runihura are of the same mind. Runihura is the silent one of his small pack and he follows Jag's lead. Quiet sure, reeled in emotions yeah. But no less present than the others. He waits for their turn. No indication of nervous energy or worry.

<Rigby> Rigby isn't normally terribly imposing, but does manage a cool arms-crossed pose flanking Jag from behind, and putting on his best fingerless gloves for the occasion.

<Corey> The bone cracks and Corey lets out a slow sigh through her lips. A glance is given down to Felicity at her side, and she gives the bone gnawer an affectionate little nudge of her cheek to the top of her head. She watches the Silver Fangs depart with a soft hum in the back of her throat and she turns to look back to Felicity once again. She knows she doesn't need to say anything to her fellow wolf.

<Ghostwalker> Ghostwalker doesn't seem too surprised at this. For Falcon to have refused a pack full of his Chosen Tribe? That would have spelled a grim moment for the Fangs indeed. He does make a somewhat sad face. Seeing a pack of Fangs embraced by Falcon would have been a sight to see indeed...

Since Alexander and Morozov have forfeited their position in line. Addison then turns towards Wovoka, Freya, and River. "Would the Alpha of Prospective Pack of Jaguar lead their Garou in stepping forward so that the Incarna might gaze upon those wolves."

<Wovoka Jones> Wovoka Jones strides forward, leading Freya, River, and Punch. He is silent, his right arm heavy in his jacket. It is the Theurge's turn to speak first; then the Galliard. Only then will the Ahroun speak. He turns to Freya, gives her The Nod.

<Dante Zimmer> With the main portion of the Moot concluded, Dante Zimmer and his two followers of Pigeon will share a moment with their embodied totem spirit, before it too fades into the umbra. Likely, the Keeper of the Land will stick around, watching the affairs unfold, but adopts a purely spectator role.

<Freya> Freya steps forward with Wovoka, River in tow. With a severe look and a deep breath to steady herself, she adopts the mien of her patron spirit. Fur sprouts upon her limbs, wicked claws thicken from her nails, and her mass builds until she is in the true form of the Garou, weilding it for gravity as those bound to the Great Wolf's lineage so often do.

Her voice rumbles deep in the language of the wyld as she speaks with the whole of her being. << I call together my pack this night under the gaze of Luna's crescent and the stars of the Shadowed One to seek Jaguar to bind us as one. Let them remind us of their virtues as we call to the Totem for his Patronage.>>

From her sides, two objects are lifted in her hands. One, a stone plate bearing a bloodied heart and ritual dagger. The other, a bowl steaming in the tunnels cool air and strongly scented of tobacco. Both are placed upon the ground as she steps forward to take her place for the rite, kneeling down. <<Let Eksa'a's song of our deed draw him near. Let my actions remind him that we honor the Covenant the first of my auspice sacrificed themselves to restore so long ago. Let Laughing-Blood be proof of our strength.>>

She looks to River.

<Wovoka Jones> River rises at the opportune moment, and stalks the space in the midst of the Garou. His form is hunched a little, in two-legged approximation of a beast's hunting gait. The top half of his face has been painted with blood, while lines descend vertically from the middle of his lower lip and from his cheeks. Dots of that same dried, cracking crimson adorn his lower cheeks and jaw, the designs applied in the manner of an Aztec warrior. As he circles, he regales those assmbled, but speaks in particular to Jaguar, in the language of spirits.

~Great Jaguar, hear the words of those who seek your favor! We call back to time of Aztlan, and to the hundreds of generations since, who conquered their neighbors and enemies in your name, and with your might. Tonight, far-flung sons and daughter of Aztlan are vulnerable, without protection from the many threats of the Wyrm; threats multipled by this sprawling sore of a city, and by those who have danced upon the black spiral, and serve the Wyrm's destructive wants.~

He gives a dramatic pause, lifting a hand and brandishing an index finger with eyes lent a more wild, wide appearance, contrasted against the dried blood on his face. ~But now, Garou come forward, to protect these wayward children of Aztlan in your name. They have stalked and killed a notorious man, who plagues your servants' descendants with violence and cruelty, who steals tribute from them that should be yours, and who makes them forget their own people, with their drugs and false ways. We who seek your favor, took this thief's life, and took his heart, to make it a vessel worthy of you. We displayed him, a warning to his kind, that the followers of the Jaguar have returned, and these thieves will prey on the children of Aztlan no longer.~

~We who seek your favor have hunted banes, and praised you in doing so. We allied with fire and smoke, to better stalk them unseen, and choose the moment of our striking. And when we struck, we did it quickly, and efficiently, to destroy our prey. We did it, inspired by the great spirit of Jaguar.~

He turns in a circle slowly, lifting his arms, palm up, as though beseeching the universe itself. ~Great Jaguar, this pack seeks to stalk and kill in your style, and in your name. We have made contact with the children of Aztlan, and learn their language, and live with them. We have made ourselves known to your People in the area, and work with them in praise of you. We seek only war with the agents of the Wyrm, to protect what is rightfully yours, and ally with those bearing your blessing. We ask you to bolster our strength with yours, and bless our pack by becoming its Totem.~

He ducks his head in a bow to signify that he is done speaking, and retakes his place among those assembled.

<Only-Ghosts> Only-Ghosts continues in his meticulous task of closing the Gates of the Sept. Small rocks, little chimes, certain hides of leather. The process of a Caern of Stealth is occluded in mystery, and it's likely he'll stick to this task as the spiritual events of the Sept start to wind down.

<Freya> As Eksa'a sings, Freya takes a finger and dips it into the concoction within the bowl, and lifts it to daub her eyes. Then, she moves to both of the other wolves. When the pack's Moon-Dancer has finished, she continues the rite. With the pack at either side, she now lifts the heart. <<You have heard our deeds, Spirit! Now, we give you our sacrifice.>>

The theurge takes the knife, and plunges it into her hand to draw out blood, and with it, her gnosis. This, she pours into the heart, hand clenched though the knife pierces it, infusing the offering. The knife is passed, and when all three have finished with their offering, she presents it forward to the beastly feline figure.

<Wovoka Jones> Wovoka is mostly silent through all these proceedings - he trusts his theurge, he trusts his Galliard, and he trusts them both more than he trusts himself. As River sings, he is anointed; when he is anointed, he steadies his breathing, preparing for the moment of sacrifice.

Blood fills the bowl, shining, real with Gnosis, thick with the power of the Spirit World. Freya bleeds for Jaguar, and then River, and then, last of all, Wovoka Jones - Gerald - takes the knife in his right hand, curling the iron fingers shut with his left hand and then /tying/ the knife to his hand like a man fixing an axe-head to a tomahawk.

He does not hesitate, but he does hold his breath and grit his teeth as he sinks the sharpened steel in to the flesh of his last limb. It gouges out the other side of his lower arm, and glides along the length of the gap between ulna and radius. Fingers spasm and tremble as he forces the steel through uncooperative flesh. His spirit is the weakest of the three, so he offers the most blood...

"We offer this to you, great teacher - protector of the living nation of your people," he recites, trembling with pain as he does.

<Brandon> Brandon and Wren absorb Lynn into their little group of Glass Walkers at the back of the class/cavern, getting into trouble with the Truthcatcher, looking spacey. When the bone finally cracks, Brandon lets out a low "whooooooo" as if he'd been storing it up inside him all this time and just had to let it out. He says to Wren and Lynn, but loud enough to carry, "Yo these guys are getting Jaguar _for sure_, look at this shit. We shoulda done this when we went for Easy. Baller." He points appreciatively.

<Sorrel> Sorrel looks around and then behind her and lands her eyes on Brandon. As surprise registers, she quickly looks away.

<Wren> Wren gives Brandon a Look, narrow-eyed. She was already looking mildly frustrated, watching Wovoka speak... and then she takes a breath and puts her eyes back on the action.

<Declan> With an adjustment of his suit jacket, Declan takes a step forward to make an annoucement of his own. "Greetings friends and family. I am Declan Park, known as Flowing Judgement. I am Cliath Philodox of the Glass Walkers and a member of the City Farmers. I am newly arrived back in the city, and am in need of a pack to run with. I believe most of you do know who I am at least, but if you'd like to know more, please let me know. I live in the Historic core, in the Bradbury Building, and would at least need to spend some of my time every day there as I have a young kinfolk that I am caregiver to." He starts to step back, but adds, "Oh, and I come with a secure basement area that has an arcade, fully stocked kitchen, and comfortable beds." That last bit is serious, but he says it was as much humor as he can muster.

<Lola> Lola eased away from Nikolai, and Bronwyn, as the atmosphere began to shift, she was more often a slinker than a strutter, and she made a point to easy behind people, so as not to cut off their view as she made her way back to the shadowy perimeter, where she had a duffle bag, and guitar resting, and waiting for her, her eyes couldn't help but pick up Wren's expression, as she narrowed, and it wasn't hard to figure out which member of her group it was aimed at as she moved past them. To her things, where she'd slowly lower to sit on her duffle bag, and continue the watching the proceedings. Her eyes giving a reflective gleam that had no problem parting the shadows, while taking up bits of flickering fire light.

<Ghostwalker> Ghostwalker watches the pack-to-be step forward to give an impressive performance, culminating in the heartblood spilled. The Caller of the Wyld waits with baited breath for the Ritual to conclude...

<Griffin> The air in the Sept changes as Freya, Wovoka, River, and Punch peform their offering for Jaguar. The remaining avatars unbound to packs clear the center, as the slinking form of Jaguar emerges from the shadows. At times the spotted form, yet shrouded with the occasional all-black coloring of his cousins. Those bright yellow eyes staring into the very souls of those gathered for the Rite.

And he's quiet.

Quiet.

The words of the pack hang in the air, faint echoes sounding off the still cistern, making their way into the outlying tunnels. The tension in the air is thick. In each gathered, hair bristles on the back of their necks, the sensation of an unseen apex predator stalking them down to the very. last. moment.

The offering of blood and flesh boils immediately, wisps of thick red smoke begin to fill the chamber, placing a mystifying haze as darkness encroaches on the Caern. For moments, no one can see the one standing next to them, or the features of the interior. Except for the pack, who can see the forms of them gathered through the haze. And then...

A LOUD ROAR SOUNDS FROM THE DARKNESS. THE LAST CRY THAT THE PREY WOULD HEAR, BEFORE SWIFT DEATH IS VISITED UPON THEM.

And as visions go dark for all those gathered, the next moment is as if nothing had transpired. The offering gone. And Jaguar too.

<Wovoka Jones> Wovoka Jones whispers to no one visible, blood still dripping from his arm: "We won't let you down, great teacher."

<Freya> The kneeling form of Winter's-Fury stills with the chill of her spine, the wait. The long moment of quiet. Was it enough? She's tense as she waits for Jaguar to make his answer.

And make his answer he does.

Freya's tail is up at the end of the darkness, and she grasps at the whisps of lingering smoke from the offering that was made, watching the magnificent murderer pass by her. She's silent in her reverence, and stands to utter a silent prayer to the spirits- and to Jaguar. A nod of the muzzle to her packmates- and she lumbers off to the sidelines. A bloodstained-fist is lifted to the side by the war-wolf in silent resolve for those who follow her tonight- may the string of good tidings continue.

<Mapa> Mapa startles awake. Her claws dig into Liam's arm, and all her limbs tense up. She'd go flying across the room if her claws didn't root her to his robe! As it is, gravity sends her swinging as Liam's sleeve twists about his arm. Mapa scrambles for purchase with wide, terrified eyes.

<Lola> Lola often danced with the primal, but as the roar came, and dripped down her spine, and into her nervous system, she felt the rush of adrenaline kick in, the tightening of her throat, and the rush of primal...well...fear. Why did she have to place herself in the shadows, just as the world went dark, she could hear her heart thundering her ear, a violent staccato, that half drowned out the world, and then her vision was back, and her hand was braced on her bag, gripping it, knuckles white. Trying to gather her wits about her once more.

<Piper> Piper was not expecting... That. The rage within the roar might be contagious, but she keeps her cool and blinks about as the darkness clears from her vision and gives a grinning nod of approval to what she assumes is the newly bonded pack.

<Meg> Well, that happened.

The terrifying roar of Jaguar snaps Meg's attention. She scrambles to her feet as her instincts take over, and she flees from the Caern's heart, her pace taking her as far out of the place as she can.

But, she'll be back -- eventually.

<Jag> Jag feels the burn of the roar in her ears, heart hammering. Jag's lip curls briefly, though the snarl is *consideraly* less impressive when one has no fangs... of any kind... to show. Body ripples slightly, the blaze in her eyes tamped down by a long, deep breath through her nose a moment later. Hands fold together before her, murmuring a soft chant to quash the aggression. She'll congratulate them later! Because now, it's her turn.

<Lynn> Lynn keeps her focus on the rite. She nods along with Brandon, but she's probably listening in - appreciating the style, the technique. Which is considerable! "Maybe," she murmurs to Brandon, before falling silent. And --

"shiiiit" Lynn breathes as Jaguar plunges them into darkness.

then--

Lynn follows up the scream with a yelp -- a lupine yelp -- scrambling with sudden swiftness, panting with abrupt anxiety, towards the nearest tunnel entrance. (She also leaves her jacket behind, though only the jacket.)

<Lucas> Lucas growls back, the rage rolling through him, and when Meg scatters he growls again. His form flexing and tension builds through him. Hope. He has so much hope for the evening, he takes a step forward as if he could stop her with a command, with his pressence, with his own growl. He can't. His gaze rising to the great predator, not Jaguar, to Lion.

<Alexander> There's not a muscle that flinches from Alexander, as he watches the proceedings unfold. Not even a fleck of Rage to his form, as he stands there and observes the binding of the pack. When the world reveals itself once more, his attention turns towards Wovoka, Freya, and River, eyes narrowing for a moment. And then, as it seems the trio were successful, lets a small smile tug ever so softly at his lips. Of course, those blue eyes turn towards the few who were driven to the Fox by the display, though what judgment he renders on them isn't made known.

<Niall> Niall feels the roar and takes a deep breath. His eyes shine with that glow of Rage. He snarls a bit with it, but manages to hold himself together. He looks to the Jaguar pack and offers a bow of his head in respect.

<Rigby> Rigby gives that expression of a dog that's been startled by something but wasn't paying attention but knows he's supposed to be on alert? Like, "HUH!" eyes and ears forward. Well, his ears don't move like that in homid. Anyway. When Jag adopts the Garou language, Rigby moves in such a way that uses the nonverbal components of that language, signalling without speaking. The cant of his head, position of his shoulders doing the equivalent of that Will Smith pose just pointing at Jag with both hands, hype-manning it up. But, you know. Subtler. Wolfier. The last of the little origami figures is the raccoon, folded earlier, as the last crease is put upon it and he places it on the ground, a small smile breaking across the corner of his mouth before he closes his eyes, feeding gnosis to Jag's actual offering, rather than the little present. He also motions back to the little basin of water and the bowl of trail mix, the bag of cotton candy. He brought snacks. He worried Raccoon might be hungry after traveling.

<Wren> Perhaps oddly, Wren *doesn't* run. She might be breathing a little faster, but the look on her face is more like fierce pride than anything else--both when Jaguar appears, and after the light returns.

<Bronwyn> Bronwyn tenses when things start to go very wonky. Her whole body freezes up but tries to stay still, so very still! but nonoe can see so her look of panic is hidden! When things come back around she lets her gaze dart to those the pack she stands with, Lucas, Mike, Niall and Meg! When Meg is affected poorly she purses her lips, looks to Lucas for a moment then her gaze slowly shifts on over to Lion.

<Mapa> There is a certain raccoon in the audience, that is now VERY WIDE AWAKE, and therefor cannot help but notice the offerings given to her grandad. She hangs from Liam's sleeve, taking quick, gaspy little breaths, but stops struggling, and looks over to the offerings. Her eyes gleam to see the shiny bits, offered by the pack. She drops to the floor, but she'll stay close to Liam's feet for a few moments, then climb him bodily again, just as though the Alpha were a tree. She'll find the top of Liam's head with her front paws, and peer with big, eager eyes to watch the calling.

<Jag> In addition to the pendant being imbued by Gnosis, Runihura has brought along a pouch of fishtank gem rocks to lay out in a circle around the whole of the offerings. This should have been mentioned earlier, but the typist was catching up mentally!

<Ghostwalker> Addison feels the snarl of the great beast stir his own Rage as he plunges them all into darkness. Though when the light of the Caern Heart returns Ghostwalker is wearing one of those Coyote grins. "Welcome back to Los Angeles, Ocelotonatiuh," he says with reverence, holding his hands out to River, Wovoka, and Freya.

When it's time for Raccoon's prospective pack to step up? Addison's brows crease somewhat, by he invites them up with the same sentiment he had offered Jaguars pack. He and a few assistants clear the space to make way for Jag and Raccoon's respective pack to make their own offerings now...

<Griffin> The ritual for Raccoon is a much more muted affair, given the theatrics of the previous Ritual. An elaborate offering that would catch the eye of this avatar even if they weren't being the one called out too. Before Raccoon takes center stage, there'll be a shared look of sympathy towards Mapa. Certainly, it would've taken an offering of this magnitude to draw the spirit back to the Heart given the instinctive response from the avatar of Jaguar. In what can only be interpreted as a smile, Raccoon will proceed forward, inviting the special raccoon perched atop of Liam's head to join them in inspecting the offering.

It takes a good several minutes as the Rite unfolds, Raccoon's tiny little hands meticulously inspecting each of the very shiny pieces offered forward. The ones empowered by their generous bounty of Gnosis are given considerable inspection, as each piece flares up as it would under the bright lights at every different angle, before carefully setting each piece back down in a neat little pile.

And unlike Jaguar, Raccoon offers to speak in the tongue of Spirits, to which the local Theurges can offer translation to their fellow Garou. <<For months you have sought my attention. It has been many years, since the passing of Johnny Walker.>> Moving onto another piece, picked up, glistening in the non-present light. <<You understand the weight, the burden, the Elder carried. And with your best efforts, have made steps towards achieving his dream.>>

With the last piece set down in that neat little pile, Raccoon will turn back towards Mapa. <<We have experienced pain these last months. With them,>> turning his attention back to Jag, Rigby, and Runihura, << I am given a sense of hope, that those days will be behind /us/,>> the final word carrying a heavier weight that raises the goosebumps of those present in response.

<< I am honored to accept you as my pack.>>

<Wovoka Jones> Wovoka Jones asides to Punch/Freya/River, "And they were /worried/, can you believe it?"

<Jag> Jag smiles broadly and brilliantly at the little Raccoon, bowing her head. Forgive her for not offering translation. She's too overwhelmed with emotion right now on hearing those words. Her own reply is in just as mysterious a language.... at least mysteroius to the listeners: "----- ---, ------- -------. ---- ----- ---- ---------- -- --. -- ---- -- --- ------ -- -------- -------- --- ---- -----." The spirit's speech behind it will carry the words. Although after a moment, she seems to register that there are, for once, *others* who need to hear. And so in the High Tongue: << Thank you, Raccoon. You honor us deeply. These efforts will not be the last. >> Shakily, Jag stands, looking toward Mapa and offering a bow of her head that way as well. <Unknown Language>

<Piper> Piper shivers at the goosebumps as Raccoon mentions the //us//, even if the meaning of the words has to be translated to this Walker. And yet there's another nod of Job Well Done for this newest bound pack, as modest as their ritual may have been.

<Brandon> Brandon's eyes are wide as headlights. He has no idea what just happened with Jaguar, or why, but he is set all out of sorts by it. He watches Lynn turn into a wolf and scramble away from him, and he turns to look at Wren. He reaches into a pocket, pulls out a lime which he doesn't think should be there, and stares at it with great confusion. It is a very good thing that Raccoon's arrival is less dramatic than Jaguar's, because if it were not, Brandon could not take it. He still looks shaken.

<Rigby> Rigby gets the gist readily enough that he can get the cliffs notes later, and the gnawer's usually impassive, long stare is broken with a genuine smile for a minute, and he lifts a hand, waving to the spirit, and to the adjacent little raccoon friend that is being consulted, before he moves back out of the way so that business can be further conducted.

<Freya> The Fenrir is still wide-eyed, and stretches her claws out as she lets her form gently slip back to it's native homid, trying to loosen the tension from her arms. "The strong make paths for those that follow them, allowing that strength to grow. Perhaps our binding was the most intimidating tonight- but opened the way for the rest." Maybe it was typical Get nonsense. Her own arrogance. Or maybe there's some tiny gem of wisdom in there- but it *was* certainly an act to follow.

A pair of hands clap softly for the new adherents of Raccoon.

<Mapa> Raccoon smiles at her, and Mapa smiles back. What passes for it in the realm of raccoons, at least. Her excitement to be included will be obvious in the way she trills as she hop-hops down off of Liam's shoulder, to his arm, and then finally to the floor. Her path takes her through the crowd with a supernatural degree of grace and discretion-- it will be impossible to keep track of her, even for creatures more suited to do! But she'll pop up again, right where she should be.

Which is a foot or two behind Raccoon, waiting patiently, reared up onto her haunches as her little paw-hands flex eagerly, while her eyes stare at the shiny bits as their examined.

The mention of pain brings Mapa down onto all fours. She'll even shrink back a little, then cast her eyes to the pack in question, as sorrow over takes them. When Jag stands, and offers her that bow, she chirrups again and 'bows' in return by inclining her head, and stretching back so that her forelimbs flatten to the ground. She won't quite know exactly what to do, after that, but after a few moments of quiet remorse, she'll retreat back into the safety of the crowd.

<Jag> Jag moves forward. standing with the members of her pack. In order to ensure that she is understood beyond the accent and language barrier, Jag drops into the High Tongue, leaving someone else to offer translations for the kin: << I am Beyond-The-Pale-The-World-Lies-Waiting. Theurge of the Bone Gnawers. I am Zedakh of the pack of the Central Alameda Corridor. Along with A-Cracked-Desert-Sundered, Ahroun of the Silent Striders, and Soup-For-My-Family, Ragabash of the Bone Gnawers. Together, we are working to hold the Central Alameda Corridor, to mend the rift with the Southern Bone Gnawers, and to help combat the Wyrm within its many pockets in the Southlands: Vernon, Inglewood, Carson. Tonight, we give honor to Raccoon, the patron totem of the late Johnny Walker. We hope to have been found worthy in his eyes, that we may walk with him as his cunning hands within the Southlands. To those who would join us, The Southlands and the glory it represents awaits. >>

Once this announcement has been made, Jag steps up to the Caller Of The Wyld. From the wide belt around her waist, Jag pulls out a small pendant on a chain, glittering with a number of cheap (but sparkly and shiny!) mock-gemstones. After holding it up in a reverent show to the Sept at large, the object is lowered for the members of her pack to lay their hands on as well, to give of their Gnosis to it. Sacrifice empowered, this is held at the ready for the calling of Raccoon. A small pot of ash mixed with some sort of fat is also pulled out. Bands are drawn in quick sweeps above and below her eyes, and the pot is passed to her packmates to do the same. Perfection here isn't important. It is the symbolism of it that is.

<Ghostwalker> Ghostwalker still offers Raccoon a bow, showing the spirit reverence in not only being a kindred Trickster Spirit but also being a special patron to a former packmate. Perhaps because of that, Jag and the others are given an especially critical look as they assemble the makings of their offering and proceed with the ritual.

Though it is up to Raccoon for accept. When Raccoon does? The critical look wanes on the Caller of the Wyld's face. He nods firmly in relent. Well done.

He then makes way to clear he space, just as he had done before. He then turns and speaks. "Would the Alpha of Prospective Pack of Lion lead their Garou in stepping forward so that the Incarna might gaze upon those wolves."

<Scarred Wolf> The Scarred wolf is quietly here. She seems happy for Jag and her pack as Raccoon arrives. She looks in her direction and lifts her muzzle a bit, but she does't quite smile. Then can Canine's smile. She wags her tail.

<Piper> This is not normally the time for the Talesinger to step forward, and yet Piper in her well tailored jumpsuit steps forward with a look and a nod to each of Phalanx's members before turning to focus on the rest of the Sept and the spirits assembled. "Forgive me, but I have a tale that just couldn't wait until later. A tale hopefully of special interest to some of our spirit allies here tonight.

A moon ago now, the pack that calls themselves Phalanx set out into the umbra and into the swirling chaos of Wyrm and Wyld and Weaver that storms around La Brea, that they might prove themselves worthy to answer Lion's call and earn his favor.

The pack knew this would be no easy journey, diving into such a mess, but they came with a plan. One of their theurges, Meg, would act as a tether so the pack would not lose their way while the other, Asa, would focus on dealing with any spirits they might encounter. Lucas and Ashlynn took point to act as a shield for the rest. Mike acted as scout while Imani and Niall flexed into what positions would need reinforcements. And so, they set out.

But the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry and this would be no different. The Wyrm touch in the chaos is heavy, full of rage and pain. They watched as mammoths were taken by the Wyrm, the death inflicted. All that, was too much for Lucas to bear along with the brightness of the moon. The Ahroun lost himself to his anger and the pain, lashing out at the darkness around them. His pack however did not lose him, determined to see their brother through this. They moved to grapple their thrashing packmate while the theurges worked their gifts and spirit flute to help him ride through his rage. It was no easy fight, but together they worked and together they got through, not a single one of them was injured in the process.

Everybody back to their senses, the group ventured on. They found themselves in a cave, with the past written on the very walls and they set to paint their own future, a future where they stood with Lion, defending the Sept with Glory and Honor. Lion answered this painting with a challenge! Lion is a predator and Totem of Wart. To prove themselves worthy of his favor, they must prove their prowess in battle!

The ever changing landscape around them swirled and shifted until they found themselves in a Jungle in the middle of La Brea, and they were not alone. In the darkness, silent wings beat. Ashlynn called out a challenge for their enemy to show themselves, but the massive bats ambushed out of the darkness instead. The fighting was fierce, claws on all sides, but Phalanx stood together and took down all but the leader of the bats, who escaped with the aid of two winged monsters to the east.

Not done yet, Phalanx pursued the last of their prey. They chased until they found Lion in the tar pits, glorious and courageous, his pelt stained and blackened with soot, ash, and blood as he fought another of the winged monsters. Ashlynn did not hesitate and neither did her packmates. They leapt forward and fought until Lion with his mighty jaws ripped the beast's skull from it's neck and roared their victory to the Umbra. This... this was how they proved themselves **worthy** to become Phalanx's Pride." With a flourishing bow as the Galliard finishes the tale, Piper relinquishes the floor back to Caller and Pack, and retreats over to her spot with the other officers once more.

<Scarred Wolf> Petal turns her focus to Piper, listening other as she speaks. Her slender caine body is tense with alertness. She looks somber and hopeful at the very same time.

<Alicia> Alicia watches the spirits being called and the new packs formed. Everything seems to be going fairly smoothly, even if Jaguar was a bit dramatic with his entrance. She doesn't have a part to play in that so just watches.

<Meg> After her return, it's finally time.

Meg sighs quietly before taking her single, apparent step in preparation: to burn the sage in the ashtray she brought with her. She also takes out a single gift from her pack - it appears to be a crown made of bone and branch - and puts it before where the great spirit stands. On her way back to her blanket, she calmly undoes her robe, and lets it fall to the ground, so that she can perform the rite sky-clad. (And, damn, she could use a sandwich, shit.)

She gestures around her for her pack to join her on the blanket.

<Niall> Looking to his pack and entourage, Niall takes a couple steps forward, standing with Meg. He looks to those gathered. He takes a deep breath, holding himself with that regal bearing, like that of a Lion. "Phalanx's Pride is a warpack. We are dedicated t being the tip of the spear for the Sept, to support our fellow garou and other packs to be successful. To push back against the Wyrm! We do this with Honor and Ferocity. I humbly call to Lion to lend us his strength and wisdom." He then offers up his spiritual essence and bows his head to the great King of the Jungle.

<Lucas> Lucas lets out a growl of affirmation. His eyes looking to Lion, not in challenge but in respect and defference and yet?there is an underlying determination in that look. A tenacity to survive, no not just survive but to restore. Restore this city, restore the Sept after the siege, to defeat the enemy. To restore his pack after the loss of an Alpha. He moves onto the blanket with Meg, and for a moment his gaze distant, but then it pulls in laser focused to Lion once more.

A tenacity, he expects Lion, A totem that has its own place to restore in the pantheon after its tribe fell, to understand.

"I tread before the Lion, in hope. I walk in honor and glory, Lion at my side. Deliver us from the enemy, with power of ancient strength Grant us the power of the lion to scatter our foes Grant us the teeth of a lion to crush our enemies Let the Lion roar through us against the defilers of Gaia. I tread with great Lion, in hope."

<Lola> Lola, one by one, unraveled her fingers from the canvas duffle back she was sitting on, and began to breathe again, slow breaths, as she listened to Piper speak, the adrenaline starting to settle down, she pushed to stand again. To watch from the edges of the room, where the shadow is a little thicker, though still licked by fire light. Her eyes watch Meg place the crown, and out of her peripheral she sees Brandon with....a lime. But soon her attention is pulled back to the rituals at hand.

<Brandon> Brandon slowly pulls himself back together after the panic and confusion of earlier. He's still holding a lime. He's present enough to stare vacantly at the pair of Raccoons and the three Garou-Raccoons, for whom he summons a smile, and then he switches it for a grimace at Corey's intention of forming a pack under Old Oak. He scrunches his forehead to follow Piper's story, and then waits.

<Bronwyn> Bronwyn turns her attention to Piper as she begins to tell the story of the pack's journey and success. She holds her breath a little as she listens, eyes wide even though she's already heard it. Her face shines with such pride in those standing here now before Lion. Her smile is huge as she looks to Meg and then over to Niall as he speaks. Her hands tremble in excitement as she turns to look at Lion now, it all depends on the spirit now but it's clear there is no worry in the little kin, who wouldn't find this pack of warriors worthy!

<Jag> Jag just leans back against the wall, reaching out to slap a hearty hand over Rigby's shoulders. Runihura has needed to drift off earlier, but such is the way of the Striders; even considering the excitement, Jag bears him no ill will. One... learns to deal with the wanderers and their need to. You know. Wander. But for her? She's walking on air right now, the soft murmurs now and again coming from her, happy, worshipful, giddy at the whole thing. To many people, Raccoon might not be as ... dramatic as the big cats presently bound as well. But to Jag? As Raccoon said: it has been months of effort and months of work.

<Meg> Meg's supplication is more of a simple prayer.

"Tonight, we ask for that which we traveled for: your blessing." Beat. "Lion, we are the Phalanx's Pride. We believe that our glory shall be in our deeds, our honor in our words, our wisdom in our choices, and that no more need be said. We offer our power and our lives in your name, and in the name of our fallen sister and zedakh, Cracks-the-Skull. We still mourn her passing, but we laud her sacrifice. We are unbroken and shall endure."

Her words are solemn and quiet, as befits an epitaph.

And then she closes her eyes and lets her Gnosis flow from her. As her pack mates unleash theirs, the power combines - unseen, but perceptible to those who can feel it - and pushes outwards towards the spirit of Lion at the head of the heart. The extraction of power causes her to shake and tremble just a little; however, with her packmates holding her, the offering is made.

Their offering.

<Scarred Wolf> Petal looks to Niall, Lucas, Mike and of course Meg. She seems excited for them. Her muzzle is lifted and her tail sways a little. Her canine form is tense with hopeful anticipation.

<Rigby> Rigby extends his fist low in an affirmation to Jag and then Rigby crouches down, elbows on his knees, watching the next pack's ritual, while reaching down and picking up a cashew out of the little bowl, munching on it.

<Mike> Mike watches as Niall and Lucas, he is apart of the Phalanx, he was picked by Ashlynn for a reason. He watches Meg, and he looks to Lion. His heart races and Mike takes a breath and lets out a breath. He walks forward, his footfalls silent, a gait like a Lion who's stalking it's prey. Mike's growl is low, but somewhat audible and he watches his pack from behind, close enough to be close enough but back enough to watch over them as if he was hiding in darkness waiting for something to try something against his packmates. His eyes shifts slowly from those Halloween colored orange to a soft golden color. He looks to Lion and he closes his eyes for a moment then then opens them as he bows his head to Lion in respect and Pride of being apart of this pack.

<Jag> Jag is happy to accept that fist, bumping it against Rigby's firmly, though she, too, is observing. She may be giddy, but she's not so giddy that she's not going to be able to join in the hope for the other's bonding as well.

<Kelli> Kelli watches with hope in her eyes, seeing such interaction between Garou and Mighty Spirits. She is on her toes watching with such anticipation.

<Griffin> Finally, the King of the Beasts steps forward. First, to listen to the tale offered by the Talesinger, empowered with her own gnosis. And then, to each of the pack members in turn, as they offer their own words to the mighty avatar. The mood of the realm strikes a happy medium between the two previous totemic avatars; it would not be a false comparison to peg Lion's demeanor as being very similar to that of their new Silver Fang, who is still watching the ceremonies with a raptor's eyes.

As the last of the offerings and words are given, with a bounty of Gnosis so generous it would take only a pack of this size to stand a chance at appeasing the mighty, proud totem spirit, the room falls silent, as Lion regards each of them in turn. And then, to the spot left absent by their formation, where the one who fell should be. His eyes close slowly, giving their pleas great consideration.

His voice is a low rumble, on the cusp of a roar, but all prey-types can be thankful that he doesn't. Still, each word spoken sends a wave through everyone present. The power of a totem with a shared history of perserverence and prevalence, returning to the Sept once more. <<You will be held to your words,>> he begins, turning his attention to Niall and Meg at the focus of the Rite. <<Your predecessors fought with great tenacity, and I will expect no less of you. Your actions, not your words, will determine the course of our future. Great things are expected of you...>>

<<...and you will live up to those expectations.>>

Casting his glance around the caern, to those present to witness what is transpiring. Silently asking the same of each and every one. It is a heavy burden to carry the Pride of the Lion, and he expects their peers to hold them to that standard.

<<Go, with my blessing, Phalanx's Pride.>>

<Freya> Freya watches with intent- the adrenaline that had surged through her before at the moment of the binding beginning to fade, and a hope his held that the third Totem tonight would accept those who sought after it. When the spirit speaks, she listens. When he grants his patronage. She grins. Perhaps a good rivalry could brew from this. Again, her hands meet in a soft clap for the new pack.

<Jag> Jag can feel those eyes turned to her from the spirit of Lion. Her head briefly upnods to the big cat, eyes glancing across the pack and sending them a wide, warm smile. It is appreciative, joyful, but don't think that the silent request of Lion wasn't noticed!

<Bronwyn> Bronwyn is outright buzzing with excitement. She watches with wide eyes and held breath and her tiny hand clasped under her chin. When Lion looks out to the rest of the sept she just can't take her eyes away. She shakes where she stands about to pop with joy. She stays quiet though! By a sheer force of will. Her eyes go all misty with the success of the pack, what a win!

<Ghostwalker> Addison and Coyote watch Niall, Meg, Lucas, and Mike move to prostrate themselves before mighty Lion. There's a somewhat distant look in his eye as they do. Nostalgic even. Having made his claim earlier, he seems to be also be waiting for what Lion would say on baited breath.

When Lion's answer finally comes, there's a shine on the Caller of the Wyld's eyes. Was it just the smoke and the fire or was Ghostwalker about to cry?

With the final ceremony commenced Ghostwalker gazes upon the newly bound packs. He reaches up to adjust the glasses on his face. He inhales deeply, catching the scent of sweat and blood and incense and smoke. The Caller of the Wyld turns around to face the Master of the Challenge and the Sept Alpha. "Peacekeeper-Rhya, Storms-at-Dusk-yuf... Tonight We the Sept Witness the Binding of Four Packs of Wolves in the accord with the Old Spirit Pacts." Yes he's including the Silver Fangs in that number, too. "May the Spirits of the Land continue to smile upon the Sept of Concrete Coyote, our home that we call Smiling Angel."

<Meg> Done.

Meg is done. Exhausted. Finished. She bends to pick her robe back up again. Wobbling, she wraps it about herself, and then plops down on her blanket like a sorority girl after her first frat party. Probably needs coffee now.

Maybe some time before walking home.

<Brandon> Brandon likes this big cat better than the last big cat. He puts the lime back in his pocket, so he doesn't have to keep staring at it.

<Lucas> Lucas lowers to his knees, oh he is proud and happy and yet...- stoic sadness for a loss. Some tears shed from the Child of Gaia but he doesnt say a word.

<Niall> Accepting that Burden, Niall stands proud and tall. He is a bit spent himself. He checks on Meg and then turns to his brothers. A proud smile. He looks to the gathering. Piper stepping up gets him to take a half step back and check on his packmates. He rests a hand on Lucas' shoulder.

<Piper> Time for Tales and Piper gives a few minutes for the congratulations to the newly bounds packs and excitement from other pack announcements to die down before the Talesinger assumes her spot, upfront and center. A clear of her throat and once she has eyes on her, she launches on in.

"Last Summer, strange howls were heard on the bawn which morphed into a sonar-like pinging. Somebody was sending signals, trying to gather information. Liam gave the order to turn all phones off when coming onto the Bawn as the Enemy was trying to track somehow. Burner phones were given out to help confuse the Enemy and conceal our own movements.

In short order, it was discovered the howl-dar came from a series of towers that had been triangulated around the Bawn, three towers and an antenna, that was a project of Sunbeam.

A Sept-wide attack plan was created. Organization was key as many parts would move at once. A group of technically minded kin were to tackle the tower located outside the AMB Mart, which they did so smoothly and without incident under the watchful eye of Dante. Elder Wu's people handled the tower that was set up in Grand Park.

Liam led a team that moved through the Umbra, attacking the pack of wyrm-dogs so they could then cleanse and free the spirit that had been trapped to power the tracking machine. In the process, they also encountered the fomori that was Sunbeam's CEO. There was a few close calls in the fight, but eventually with teamwork they were able to destroy him as well as his machine.

Finally, Black Coil and Karissa took to Sunbeam itself, to set a fire and a distraction from the other efforts that were going on.

Old Coyote's pack used every disguise and trick they could come up with, including choosing to use one of Falcon Motor's own Pathfinders as their vehicle along with talens to help cloak them in darkness. Once they snuck in, Karissa called down a fire-spirit that raged greatly. It destroyed a large supply of silver and gold weapons the Enemy had stored there, and the fires killed the gunmen as well and wrecked its way through the building. This summoning was not without a cost and the Fury Metis suffered one of the fits she is prone to, locking her body in warform and unable to respond. They had no medicine or other way to force her to her senses, so they had to sneak back out cloaked much the same as how the entered, but carrying the incapacitated Karissa between them.

Addison led his pack to a resort in Malibu, somewhere with lots of people around hoping that would provide some additional security. They were able to rest for a few hours, before Biter's lupus alertness picked up that they had company. Cody Black and her pack had tracked them down in their demon-Truck. They drove around and parked on the beach, coming no closer to the resort but waiting and watching. They'd cornered Black Coil as if they were to leave in the falcon, they wouldn't be fast enough to outrun the Bane-powered Monster Truck. And the longer they waited, the more likely the Hive would send reinforcements, enough that the resort's own security wouldn't matter at all.

In order to save his pack, Silas volunteered to lure the Spirals away in the Pathfinder; it could drive faster with one wolf than it would with four. The risk was great... one wolf alone if caught by a full pack of Spirals would almost certainly die or worse, but Silas was the best driver of the pack and stood the best chance to pull it off or at least buy enough time to save the other three an escape. Ghostwalker pulled some of his Uktena tricks, casting a shadow on Cody's pack, buying Silas a bit more time before he gunned it. They chased. This allowed Addison, Biter and Karissa to sneak off and steal a car, making their way back home. Meanwhile, Silas drove for his life. He drove well, but in the end it wasn't well enough.

The Pathfinder crashed and Cody's pack set upon Silas, capturing him, bringing him back to the heart of Inglewood... to torture and attempts to break him. Old Coyote let us know that though Silas may have been caught, he was still fighting. The Sept worked together using rites and other gifts to pinpoint where Silas was being held. Ghostwalker, as pack leader, was responsible for Silas being captured and so he was responsible for bringing him back from the Spirals' Meth House. Addison and his team: Foebiter, Jingqi, Brandon, Niall and the Fury kin Xavier as driver. They snuck into enemy territory, ambushed the house, fought through the gun wielding kin and their fomori attack dogs, rescuing both Silas and a child from the Spirals.

In the end, Sunbeam was not just beaten back, but destroyed. There were two very close calls, but we managed to do so without any garou fatalities on our side. Rejoice in the Glory and Honor shown, but also find Wisdom in learning from the mistakes. A threat to the Sept presented itself and we acted quickly. The Enemy surrounded us on four sides, and we organized five teams to handle each threat and create a diversion. Actions were taken cohesively and with purpose, each group doing what they must to secure their objective so the larger mission can be completed. That is where we found our Successes. And going forward? We know to be vigilant, watching our sides when we advance to make sure we don't get blindsided. When we go to a fight, ensure any cameras are dealt with, both for security responses and to avoid any threats to the Veil. And when it comes to infiltrating enemy territory? Make sure you plan your ways out as well as your ways in. We lived, we learned, and we won't make the same mistakes again."

<Griffin> Tonight, all the packs were bound.

...all but one.

As Piper opens the Songs and Stories with the Tale of Sunbeam, and those who prevailed against the computer and technology arm of the Wyrm, the spirits start to dissipate. The chosen four with their packs...

...Mammoth lingers on for a moment, looking to those gathered, and not seeing the ones who had called for him. His head lowers, eyes closing, a somber affair for the avatar of the mighty spirit. Slowly, he'll turn to return to the Umbra, alongside the unaffiliated spirits.

The Sept then continues to talk and tell stories...