You paged Seirian with 'Where is Seiri this evening?'.
Seirian pages: Seiri is making her way out to the Caern, looking for other people to be around for a while. :)

You paged Walks-Far-Alone with 'Where is Walks this fine evening?'.
Walks-Far-Alone pages: In/near WWNP, if that's possible.

You paged Scab-Survivor with 'Where is Touch Deer this fine evening?'.
Scab-Survivor pages: Oh...in the woods somewhere, or wherever you need him to be. :)

You paged Clouded Sky with 'And where would you be this fine evening?'.
From afar, Clouded Sky was running normal patrols through WWNP.

You paged Seirian with 'You spy, in your journey through the woods, a glimpse of white... then a flash of flank... and you realize that there is a white horse making its way through the woods.'.
From afar, Seirian blinks a moment in confusion and surprise, then alters her path towards that flash, trying to be quiet.

You paged Walks-Far-Alone with 'You spy, in your journey through the woods, a glimpse of white... then a flash of flank... and you realize that there is a white horse making its way through the woods.'.
From afar, Walks-Far-Alone's ears prick forward, then back at this most unlikely sight. She steps up her pace to a trot, following along its backtrail. Her head lowers as she scents, seeking anything unusual, anything that might say this is other than a real horse.

You paged Scab-Survivor with 'As you're moving through the woods this evening, you spot a white hound with red ears, pacing among the trees.'.
Scab-Survivor pages: Activate Camouflage and sneak towards it, upwind, to get a better look. Is it an albino?

You paged Clouded Sky with 'As you move through WWNP on your patrol, you spot a white hound... with red ears, pacing among the trees.'.
From afar, Clouded Sky stops, follows it with her eyes and ears while trying to pick up its scent, and then begins trailing afterward as quietly as possible, remaining unseen (camouflage).
From afar, Clouded Sky will also use Sense Wyld as she tries to pick up its scent.

You paged Seirian with 'The horse weaves among the trees, seemingly playing a game with itself, though what the nature of this game may be... it's a little beyond you.'.
From afar, Seirian follows at a cautious distance, not wanting to make her presence known or startle the beast until she can get a better look.

You paged Walks-Far-Alone with 'The horse scent, powerful enough to assure you that it is real, is tinged with something else, something that grasps at your ancestral memories, a scent of home, of fields, of rushing rivers.'.
From afar, Walks-Far-Alone quickens her pace, though never drawing near enough that she could be seen if the animal (or its rider, assuming there is one) could see her if it turned.

You paged Scab-Survivor with 'No, it's not an albino. The white of its fur, however, seems to have a strange luminescence from within. It casts about, as if seeking a scent.'.
Scab-Survivor pages: Approach it, caustiously. Anything strange? Per 5.

You paged Clouded Sky with 'It casts around, apparently seeking a scent and then, with a sudden movement of determination, makes off in a straight line to the north.'.
You paged Clouded Sky with 'Yes! Wyld! Oh, yes!'.
From afar, Clouded Sky chases after, remaining far enough behind that she hopes it won't notice her, but close enough that she won't lose it.

You paged Seirian with 'The creature stops its figure-eights and strange, diagonal steps and looks in your direction, ears alert, eyes a strange, deep, intelligent green.'.
From afar, Seirian pauses in her following and blinks at the gaze, soon smiling and bowing slightly to the creature, not saying a word.

You paged Walks-Far-Alone with 'You see no rider. The horse moves without the hindrance of saddle or other tack, and it weaves in a strange dancing trot among the trees, as if playing a game with itself.'.
From afar, Walks-Far-Alone alters her course, attempting to pass it by. If she's able, she will place herself in a position to be seen by the animal before she sits, waiting to be noticed.

You paged Scab-Survivor with 'Its eyes are roiling stormclouds -- and you swear you see lightning dancing in there -- and its body is absolutely the most perfect specimen of caninity you have ever seen.'.
Scab-Survivor pages: Right then. I chuff towards it, just loud enough for it to hear. Greetings stranger.

You paged Clouded Sky with 'It runs silently, moving like the wind. It does not, however, pull ahead of your best pace.'.
From afar, Clouded Sky follows, beginning to pay more attention to what's around her, and, more importanly, ahead.

You paged Seirian with 'The horse bows its head in greeting and kneels invitingly, head cocked to the side coyly.'.
From afar, Seirian steps forward slowly, looking the horse over as she nears it. Her smile is warm and friendly, as she holds out a hand welcomingly.

You paged Walks-Far-Alone with 'You draw even with it and go no further, the creature somehow matching its pace to yours.'.
From afar, Walks-Far-Alone looks behind herself, perhaps considering finding others, then she shakes her ruff out as if to free herself of such thoughts. She breaks cover, not rushing the horse but instead just letting herself be seen.

You paged Scab-Survivor with 'The hound doesn't startle, just looks at you with those strange thunderhead eyes, then turns its head north and starts off at a fast trot.'.
Scab-Survivor pages: Follow.

You paged Clouded Sky with 'You notice that the trees and earth and sky seem to almost... shimmer at a few points. Like heat waves. The scents are clearer and richer, the air sharper and less polluted.'.
Clouded Sky pages: Almost like the umbra?

You paged Seirian with 'The horse nuzzles your hand and its muzzle feels of softest velvet. It flicks one ear and tosses its head, clearly indicating that it would like you as a rider.'.
From afar, Seirian smiles a bit shyly and finally speaks, her voice whisper-soft though. "Been a bit since I rode such a lovely like ye...ye sure ye donnae mind?" As she says this, she moves around to one side, ready to mount if the answer is a yes.

You paged Walks-Far-Alone with 'The horse paces you, pushing you to your fastest pace and no faster.'.
Walks-Far-Alone pages: Using her gift of beast speech, the Fianna calls softly, */ Horse? /* She leaps over a fallen limb, the bare branches scraping along her undersides as she passes.

You paged Scab-Survivor with 'The pace is fast, but no faster than your fastest pace.'.
Scab-Survivor pages: Okay.

You paged Clouded Sky with 'Yes, but there's a ... different quality that's hard to pinpoint.'.
From afar, Clouded Sky will keep following, intrigued by this area. Some part of her brain is off working on figuring out what's going on. Wyld sense is going crazy, I bet.

You paged Seirian with 'The creature shakes its head at her question of "do you mind?" and lowers itself completely to enable her mounting.'.
From afar, Seirian freely settles onto the horse's back, her smile turning to one of almost childlike joy at the thrill.

You paged Walks-Far-Alone with 'The horse turns its head toward her, its steps still unerring. */Wolf/* it replies.'.
From afar, Walks-Far-Alone's ears prick towards the animal as she runs. */ What are you doing here, alone? /*

You paged Scab-Survivor with 'You notice that the air is becoming clearer, fresher, the bite of the cold is cleaner somehow.'.
Scab-Survivor pages: I call out: Stranger, where are you headed?

You paged Clouded Sky with 'Oh, yes, Wyld sense going mad. You can see that a mountain is rearing up before you and your path seems to be leading directly for it.'.
Clouded Sky pages: Somewhere back there I left the places I've been before, and even though it should be, this isn't where a normal trip this direction would have taken me - even excepting the umbral/wyldness to the area - Yes? This isn't a mountain that should be there, right?

You paged Seirian with 'You feel yourself settle comfortably onto the creature's back, and the horse stands smoothly. The seat is firm, assuring... and then the horse explodes directly into a wild, careening gallop through the trees!'.
From afar, Seirian whoas and clutches the horse's neck tightly with her arms, hanging on for dear life.

You paged Walks-Far-Alone with 'Its ears flick. */Playing. Finding friends. Like you!/*'.
From afar, Walks-Far-Alone lets out a soft snort of warm amusement. */ Horse, it is not safe for you here. A 'friend' of my kind other than me would want to eat you. Where do you come from? How did you get here? /*

You paged Scab-Survivor with 'The hound doesn't slacken its pace but replies: The best of all worlds!'.
Scab-Survivor pages: Reply: Who are you?

You paged Clouded Sky with 'There isn't a mountain there normally, no. You have obviously run into a different place.'.
Clouded Sky pages: Okay. Just keeping that in mind as I follow, maybe dropping a little bit farther behind.

You paged Seirian with 'The speed is blinding, heart-stopping, the trees shooting by, reaching branches just missing snagging your arms and face. Then there is a long long lonnnnng moment of open space and the absence of thudding hoofbeats and you are airborne... off a cliff... falling toward a river...'.
From afar, Seirian, obviously now quite scared, starts screaming very loudly as she falls.

You paged Walks-Far-Alone with 'The horse whinnies laughter. */Others would have a hard time of it, then! I am from the best of all worlds! I ran! I swam! I leaped!/*'.
Walks-Far-Alone pages: Runs along side it, casting glances towards it. She's quiet for a time, then asks, */ You are alone? /*

You paged Scab-Survivor with 'A long, joyous howl. I am all and one, I am servant and master, I am free!'.
Scab-Survivor pages: Just keep following.
You paged Scab-Survivor with 'Okay. :)'.

You paged Clouded Sky with 'The mountain looms closer and closer.'.
Clouded Sky pages: Any other recognizable scents?

You paged Seirian with 'The horse laughs! And it aims itself to cleave the river, which you do admirably, plunging into water that should be frigid, but not really noticing because now, the horse is running just as fast along the bottom of the river and you notice that you are stuck fast to its back!'.
From afar, Seirian blinks and looks around in true confusion at the water around them. Finding herself stuck, she tries to move and lift herself even a small ways from the creature's back.

You paged Walks-Far-Alone with 'It whinnies again. */Not for long! Look!/* And sure enough, directly ahead, where there ought to be open farmland, looms a solitary mountain.'.
From afar, Walks-Far-Alone's pace falters and she looks around, trying to regain her beaings. She slows doesn from a lope and to a trot. */ Where...? /*

You paged Scab-Survivor with 'You notice a mountain rearing up ahead of you. Your path seems to lead directly for it.'.
Scab-Survivor pages: Do I recognize them?

You paged Clouded Sky with 'Hounds and horses. Echoing from the side of the mountain ahead, you hear approaching hoofbeats.'.
Clouded Sky pages: Trying to stay unnoticed, and far enough back that I'll be able to make appropiate couse adjustments.

You paged Seirian with 'You fail, well and truly stuck. You pass a large, wise-looking salmon in the river, that turns to watch you travelling by with its wide, yellow eyes. Another, much smaller fish ricochets unfortunately off your chest and looks dazed as it floats in your wake.'.
From afar, Seirian starts murmuring, her tone fervent. "A'right...I think it's time Mister Toad's Wild Ride slowed down a bit..." Even though stuck, she still instinctively clings to the form beneath her and looks around with wide grey eyes.

You paged Walks-Far-Alone with 'The horse slows so as not to lose you. */The mountain!/* It whickers, trying to encourage you along. Off to one side, you see another flicker of white through the trees.'.
From afar, Walks-Far-Alone slows down further, hardly trotting now. */ How far have we come? /* she asks quietly, almost more to herself than to the animal. She tosses a glance behind herself, checking to see if anything looks familiar, to see if WWNP is anywhere in sight.

You paged Scab-Survivor with 'No, this is a single mountain where it oughtn't to be.'.
Scab-Survivor pages: Uh...okay. Keep following.

You paged Clouded Sky with 'The hound you follow is making for an immensely tall and wide cave entrance in the side of the mountain. Come! Come! It will be fun!'.
From afar, Clouded Sky splays her ears out and a little bit back, apprehensive but enjoying herself, and makes like mad for the cave.

You paged Seirian with 'The two of you explode from the water, running up a completely vertical cliff-face.'.
From afar, Seirian /very/ tightly clutches the creature's neck, her sensibilities telling her she should be falling off right now.

You paged Walks-Far-Alone with 'The horse turns to look at you. */Far and not far at all. This place is always just a step away from your home, yet hardly anyone comes here. The journey back is not far. But I'd like it if you came with me./*'.
Walks-Far-Alone pages: If the horse can read wolf body language, it'd see the young Fianna is indeed interested. She indicates the mountain ahead as she continues trotting along. */ What's there? /*

You paged Scab-Survivor with 'Off to one side, you see another flicker of white, this one much larger, moving for the mountain as well.'.
Scab-Survivor pages: I try and veer off a little to get a better look at this creature without losing the White Dog.

You paged Clouded Sky with 'The two of you burst from the woods into the clear space at the foot of the mountain.'.
Clouded Sky pages: (mindspeak to the 'hound') What/who are you?

You paged Seirian with 'Sensing your dismay, the horse turns its path so that you are running along the vertical cliff, the sheer drop on your right and the sheer rise on your left. The speed is still dizzying.'.

You paged Walks-Far-Alone with 'The horse speeds up its pace again. */Wonders and joys!/*'.

You paged Scab-Survivor with 'You veer and spot a white horse running, yet turning to look back a bit, as if speaking to someone.'.
Scab-Survivor pages: I howl: Scab Survivor wonders if others are following these white-animals?

You paged Clouded Sky with 'You spot, up on a sheer side of the mountain, a white thing, running sideways along the cliff-face. The hound replies: All and none, many and few, but ultimately FREE.'.

Scab Survivor howls: Scab Survivor wonders if others are following these white-animals?
Clouded Sky howls a wordless reply of affirmation.

From afar, Seirian finally just closes her eyes, not wanting to see where it is they're going. Her arms remain clasped about the horse's neck, but the rest of her relaxes somewhat.
Seirian pages all: No howl comes that's recognizeable as Seiri's.

From afar, Walks-Far-Alone cocks her head, listening to he howls before asking, */ And 'back' is not far away? /* Then she raises her voice, adding her own answer.
You paged Walks-Far-Alone with 'The horse looks amused. */Not at all!/*'.

Walks-Far-Alone's howl rises, adding that one more is folllowing a white animal.

From afar, Walks-Far-Alone's pace quickens again, letting the horse lead the way. */ Are you a spirit? /*

Scab-Survivor howls in reply to the others: Has anyone learned anything as to where they are leading us, or why?

Horse and Walks-Far-Alone, Hound and Scab Survivor, all burst from the edge of the woods into the clearing at the foot of the mountain. Ahead, making for a monstrously tall and wide cave opening, runs Clouded Sky and her Hound guide. Along a cliff-face far above, and running directly down it at a frightening pace, is a white horse with a figure clinging to its back.

Walks-Far-Alone's ears cant forward as the others come into view. Loping beside her equine guide, she calls out to them. Mine says it's leading us somewhere fun, to see 'wonders and joy'. It says it wants friends.

Scab-Survivor stops, looking around himself. This one's guide says it brings one to 'the best of all worlds.'

Seirian is clutching at the horse beneath her in a white-knuckled grip, eyes squeezed shut. No response from her but repeated murmuring, "Stop the ride...stop the ride..."

Scab-Survivor pages to Clouded Sky, Walks-Far-Alone, Limbo, and Seirian: Anyone who hasn't seen SS in lupus, please look at him. Important.
look scab-survivor
Whatever once happened to this large timber wolf, it bears the scars in hideous memory. From the neck down, its body is only whole in patches, the vast majority of its frame being covered in scar-tissue; the sight is so gruesome as to almost invoke pity or loathing in the more sensitive people. It's paws are skeletal and blasted, with pink, black, and red tissue making its way up and around his grotesque body. It appears this wolf was once nearly burned to death, but managed barely to live.
Despite its horrible appearance, it seems able to move and think well overall. In fact, it retains the vast majority of its strength and dexterity from before the burning, with only the occasional twinge of pain from lost skin-flexibility betraying his injuries. Nose constantly twitching, eyes searching high and low, it does not appear to intend to miss anything going on around it. It's eyes are a deep black. A predator born to the wilderness, this creature moves with a predatory grace, gliding like a ghost through the trees. . .

From afar, Clouded Sky pulls everyone (guides included) into a brief mindspeak - He says Freedom.

Everyone hears Clouded Sky's voice in their minds: He says Freedom.

Scab-Survivor sniffs towards the large cave, and then looks back up at all the others. Everyone, come to this clearing so we may talk and learn what we can.

Clouded Sky is the first to reach the cave, a vast orifice that breathes warm, fragrant air. The horse and the clinging Seirian are the next, and run into the entrance along the roof.

Walks-Far-Alone's step falters as a foreign voice sounds within her head, then moreso as she catches sight of the scarred wolf. With one last look towards her white guide, she reluctantly moves towards the others.

Those with wolf-senses can smell: heat, foods and strange foody scents, and people, although the scents are full of a strange quality of smoke and light. Sounds: A number of beings in conversation, both in animal-speak and homid-type-speak.

You paged Seirian with 'In case you're wondering, yes, you're upside-down.'.
Seirian pages: Was just going to ask that.
Scab-Survivor pages to Clouded Sky, Walks-Far-Alone, Limbo, and Seirian: Wait...I'm confused. Has anyone actually /entered/ the cave?
Walks-Far-Alone pages all: I have not.
Limbo pages all: Clouded Sky is at the entrance. Seirian's horse, however, has galloped into the cave, upside-down.
Scab-Survivor pages: The horse itself is upside down?
Long distance to Scab-Survivor: Limbo nodsnods. It's running very very fast, upside down, along the ceiling of the cave.
Scab-Survivor pages: Whoa.

Seirian opens her eyes for a moment and looks around. Her attention is immediately drawn to the fact that she's upside down and she slowly closes her eyes again.

Scab-Survivor snorts. Dammit. We should follow her in.

The Guides who have not plunged headlong into the cave (i.e. the Guides who are *not* Seirian's horse) are stopped at the entrance, looking back at you all, and fidgeting.

Walks-Far-Alone looks between the other wolves and her guide. I guess... She steps up behind Clouded Sky, between her and the gathering of white animals.

Seirian pages: Did Seiri get at all drenched/wet/damp in the trip through the water?
You paged Seirian with 'Yes, but you're traveling so amazingly fast that you're all dry now. :)'.
Seirian pages: AHah. :)

Scab-Survivor sniffs the cave again before heading towards it.

Clouded Sky sniffs toward the cave, then turns to regard the other garou who have come this far.

The sound of the hoofbeats from the roof of the cave fade into the distance.

Clouded Sky licks her nose, looks at her guide, and then heads inside.

You paged Seirian with 'Since the others are paused at the entrance, you're the first to gallop into the destination. You know that something's different because the hoofbeats begin ringing like bells.'.

Clouded Sky's guide looks eager and takes off down the tunnel, wagging its tail happily.

Walks-Far-Alone pauses before following Sky in. She asks her guide, */ Who are they? /* flicking an ear to indicate the people-types inside the cave.

The Horse rears and starts galloping. */Come SEE!/*

Seirian cracks open an eye at a change in sounds, daring to look around even from her upside-down point of view.

Walks-Far-Alone looks to the fire-marked wolf and translates needlessly. He wants us to follow.

Scab-Survivor figured as much. Come on...we don't know if the horse-riding-one is in danger.

Scab-Survivor heads quickly towards the large cave-mouth.

Long distance to Seirian: Limbo points at the new room desc. :)

look
An Edge of Faerie
Like an Italian water garden, this place under the mountain resounds with the music of running water. It bubbles from the stony walls, where spouts have been carved cunningly in the shapes of boggins and goblins and trolls, arcs downward into a series of crystalline pools, all of which in turn empty their misting contents into larger pools in a tier below, and so on for seven levels of running pools until they empty, at last, into a vast lake of deepest sapphire.
Arranged around the lake are tables laden with all sorts of foods, from exotic fruits to wild game to fountains running with fragrant wine. Glowing, floating lights of blue flame flicker on torches and in lanterns all around the cavern, lighting the facets of the ceiling so that it reflects the light a thousandfold.
Contents:
Clouded Sky
Scab-Survivor
Walks-Far-Alone
Seirian

Walks-Far-Alone follows just a step after, her ears twitching and her nose quivering as she tries to take in and sort hrough all the scents.

Clouded Sky goes slowly until she is certain the others are following, and then picks up the pace.

Seirian blinks slowly, swallows forcefully, and murmurs to her Guide. "M-may I get down now?" She completely relaxes her grip on the beast's neck at the same time.

The tunnel is broad and devoid of pitfalls, and the sounds grow louder... punctuated suddenly by the change of the hoofbeats on the ceiling into deep, resounding bell-tones. A cheer goes up from the cavern you emerge into, as you see, arranged around the lake and tables of food, a vast assortment of beings of all shapes and sizes, all uniformly incredibly beautiful or stomach-grindingly ugly.

Scab-Survivor stops abruptly, ears twitching at the sight before him.

The horse cranes its neck around to regard Seirian. It nods, and her firm seat suddenly lets go, plunging her toward the floor, forty feet away. A horde of soft, fuzzy beings leap together to form a bouncy cushion underneath her, and she suffers no harm.

Walks-Far-Alone shies a step as the gathering lets out its yell, then stands steady as she checks out their surrpundings.

Seirian goes limp as she starts to fall, half-expecting it, then gasps as she's caught, blinking in surprise.

Clouded Sky forces quiet the low growl that suddenly filled her throat at the sight. She stands, apprehensive, and takes it all in.

Scab-Survivor shifts to the homid form quickly and addresses the...creatures...present around the tables. "Where are we?"

The Hounds reunite with an enormous pack of identical creatures, and they roll and tumble about gleefully at the feet of a gigantic man seated in shadow. Only his boots, rough leather things trimmed with fur, are visible in the cold blue light.

Walks-Far-Alone casts a glance towards Touch Deer as he shifts, but she does not appear about to follow his lead. Letting him do the talking, she keeps watch both of the group and of the tunnel the Garou arrived through.

Clouded Sky's attention is drawn to the shadowed figure, hackles slightly raised.

Seirian looks around at everything from her fuzzy cushion, eyes wide. One word, whispered softly, leaves her lips as she gazes around. "Fae?"

A woman, tall and willowy, draped in scarlet silks and ebony brocades cut in an archaic style, moves forward. Her face is the face of Michelangelo's marble works, pale and smooth and flawless, and her eyes are piercing garnets. She moves with an inhuman grace. "Welcome," she says in a voice that rings, bell-like and pure, through the hall, shivering some deep-seated memories in the Fianna. "Well come. Well met. You are here, and this place is the Palace of Waters, a place of celebration. We celebrate tonight, as we do every twenty one of your years, the Feast of Light."

Touch Deer tilts his head. "Greetings to you as well, Lady. If I may ask, why have we been brought to your Feast?"

An ear twitches at the word Seirian uses. Clouded Sky is familiar with that word, and tales of feasts presented by such creatures. All her muscles tense as she steps back, one, two, three paces toward the entrance and the shadows of a near wall.

Walks-Far-Alone stands with the three as the woman approaches, watching her, tilting her head slightly as she listens. The young Fianna appears to be trying to remember something, or trying to place the voice. Her tail wags slowly, brushing against the back of her hindlegs in return to the greeting.

Seirian slowly moves to get up from the cushion that saved her fall, a little wobbly on her feet but standing. She sketches a bow to the regal woman and smiles, albeit a bit shakily.

The Lady smiles graciously. "It is a Feast of Light, oh, my dearest guests. We send forth a guide for each direction, and they bring those that they can find, friends who can see them and hear them. More often than not, in these bleak days, our guests are shifters like yourselves. We require those of the mortal realm to carry real light for us for the heart of the celebration. Best of all, you of the mortal world *are* Light, in and of yourselves."

Touch Deer listens and then nods, obviously not entirely comfortable here. He turns around to look at his tribesister. "What's wrong, Sky?"

Conversation resumes around the lake, and a harper strikes up a dancing tune in a nook where the tier below him has no water, just a broad, flat stone. A number of beings, mostly humanoid and dressed at least as extravagantly as the Lady, converge and indulge in raucous country dancing.

Seirian absently smoothes down her wind-twisted hair and straightens her clothing with self-conscious hands. As the music begins, she perks up and casts a glance towards its source in curiousity.

Clouded Sky does not relax, nor make any movement forward, as she turns to regard Touch Deer. One ear still turned toward the shadowed figure, she explains. The Singer of the Blood Songs told tales of what became of those who feasted with the ~fae~. She told many tales of those creatures, and of the ones who came to the mountain bowl. All tales held the same lesson. Do not trust.

Touch Deer nods to Clouded Sky, and then turns back to the the beautiful woman who seems to serve as the 'host' tonight. "If we wish to leave, may we?"

One of Walks-Far's ears tip back, then returns forward as she listens to the lady. She may have missed Seirian's guess as to what these folk are, but she does not miss Sky's. A change passes across her expression and her head and tail drop a notch in respect to the speaker.

The Lady drifts away from the welcome, but a wispy creature of light and green and air approaches. "Eat only the food on the table near the dance floor, mortals," it whispers like the wind.

Touch Deer's question captures the attention of a nearby man, clothed all in blue velvet. His dark skin shimmers bronze, and his dark hair runs down his back like rain. "You may leave if you so desire, yes. But you will miss the dancing and the Rite of Light." He smiles, bright teeth shining.

Walks-Far-Alone sticks close to Sky and Touch Deer, and even with the advice on which food is safe to eat, she does not even glance in its direction.

Touch Deer nods to the bronze-skinned man, not smiling himself. He directs a question to Walks-Far-Alone: "Kasie, you are Fianna and your tribe holds a relationship with these people. What do you think...?"

Seirian remains where she stands for now, one arm having snaked around to hold her stomach. The warning of the food and the words of the Rite are not lost on her, and she turns her eyes to the other Garou to see what they think.

The man moves up beside Seirian and says, "You have a look like you are a musician. Am I right?" His handsome face is chiseled in the light.

Walks-Far-Alone waits for the dark skinned one to move off before answering Touch Deer quietly. One of my tribemates met them on her Rite. She said you have to be very, very respectful of them. Be careful not to offend.

Touch Deer nods to Walks, and then moves over to Clouded Sky, whom he kneels beside and whispers to.

A few smaller beings, creatures that appear almost childlike, edge closer to the Garou, whispering among themselves and peering at them.

Seirian nods to the man and smiles, speaking in a voice with less of an accent than usual. "Aye, you are quite right, I am a musician."

An eyebrow cocks with interest and his smile warms. "Would you perform for us this evening then?"

Clouded Sky steps forward cautiously. She looks around as her eyes take in sights near what she has imagined long ago. Even as her attention is drawn elsewhere, it often returns to the figure in the shadows. She stops as Touch Deer approaches and signals a negative to him. Show care, and eat nothing. Curiosity should not outweigh caution, yet I would learn more.

Seirian lets a polite blush color her cheeks. "Oh, surely my meager talents would be wasted here...and I do not wish to offend."

Walks-Far-Alone's ears remain lowered as if she were speaking to a ranking Garou as she looks at the childlike one. Hello, she chuffs softly, sitting down as her tail starts wagging slowly.

The child so addressed giggles and steps forward boldly, extending a hand to touch Walks' nose. Having accomplished this feat of valor, she leaps back, giggling, inciting her entire group to giggling.

The lord in blue takes Seiri's hand and bows over it, brushing warm lips across her knuckles. "My lady, we would be honored to hear your talent. I feel sure it is anything but meagre."

Walks-Far-Alone remains still, only her eyes moving to follow the hand. After the touch is fonished and the limb withdrawn, the young Fianna lets out her own little sound of amusement. She lays down, placing her head between her paws. Her tail keeps wagging away, making her appear ever the friendly family dog.

Touch Deer pages all: Okay, I'm heading off then. Someone can pose TD now and then (like Sky), refusing to dance or being a party-pooper in general. He's respectful but doesn't want to be the life of the party.

Seirian puts on an impressive act, if it is an act. "Oh, my lord, you flatter me so. But, you have convinced me, and I will play for you if so wish it."

The faerie children, with their vari-colored skins and pelts, their pointed or rounded or webbed ears, take this as an invitation to pounce, and Walks finds herself rough-housed with by half a dozen kids.

Tall, dark, and handsome casts his hand to his breast and falls to one knee. "Ah, my lady, you fill my heart with exquisite joys untold!"

Clouded Sky is amused by Walks-Far-Alone's treatment, and allows herself to step forward another pace into the hall.

Seirian smiles warmly and inclines her head slightly, "The pleasure will truly be mine, my lord, to grace your festival with my melodies."

Walks-Far-Alone accepts the role of toy patiently, much as she would from a litter of pups. Eventually she rolls onto her back (taking care not to catch anyone under her) and waggles her paws in the air. I give up! You got me.

The children spring to their feet and do a little circle-dance of joy, singing a loud victory song! The first one who touched her nose perches one tiny foot on Walks' chest and does a close facsimile of a Tarzan yell.

Walks-Far-Alone follows along with the role, now playing dead. She makes one hindleg twitch, then parts her jaws and lets her tongue hang out. One of her eyes opens, though, peeking at the yound ones playfully.

He rises once more and bestows a blue rose upon Seirian before taking his leave, eloquent apologies tripping off his tongue, letting her know that he must needs make the arrangements for her performance. He vanishes into the crowd.

The children thoroughly fuzzle Walks.

A big, lean wolf, fur steely-grey, perches on a stone nearby, watching the Garou with dark eyes. He inclines his head to Sky with the air of someone older than elder, greater than rank.

Seirian holds the blue rose gingerly in her fingers, making the motions of sniffing it, but not truly doing so. She turns back to the others and smiles at the other Fianna's 'death scene'.

Walks-Far-Alone obligingly wiggles as if the little hands were finding all her most ticklish spots.

Clouded Sky feels herself being watched, and turns to regard the grey wolf in turn. She lowers her head and tail, accepting his position, and then turns an ear back in query. What are you, of this?

The children giggle uproariously and fuzzle more!

He cocks his head, considering her question. I am no more, nor less, than myself. I have been among these for, I am told, seven times seven years. I chose to remain for a love, although the love of these are not enduring.

Walks-Far-Alone raises her head and starts licking any faces that are within her reach. She does not stop at one, nosireebob, she gives a chin a lick here, then another face gets a wet kiss right across the mouth, then another along his jaw.

Seirian watches her tribemate and chuckles, twirling the rose between her fingers lightly.

A taller man, leaner, with flaming red hair and a white, embroidered tunic, and tight burgundy leggings steps up to Seirian and bows deeply. "Would the lady give me the untold pleasure of a dance?"

Clouded Sky tilts her head, curious. You chose a mate among these?

The Lady rematerializes from the crowd, as if being a good hostess and checking on all her charges. She approaches Touch Deer and attempts to cozen him into a dance.

Seirian curtsies delicately and nods. "'Twould be my pleasure, truly. I do hope my clumsy steps are easily forgiven."

The steel wolf flicks an ear in an affirmative. She was a shifter too, of a sort, and often came to the wolf form herself.

The redheaded man smiles beautifully and leads Seiri to the dance floor. The harper strikes up another lively tune and the man in the white tunic leads the steps so effortlessly that Seirian finds her steps lightening and catching the beats with even more facility than her natural musical talent usually allows.

Touch Deer politely declines and takes a step toward the dance floor, offering conversation instead.

The children burst into giggles and a couple of them become puppies to return the slurps.

Clouded Sky's ear twitches at the thought. Did you raise pups, here in this place?

Seirian smiles and follows the lead of her dance partner, looking somewhat pleased for the ease of the dance.

The Lady engages Touch Deer in light conversation, asking about his home and the weather, mostly.

Another affirmative ear twitch. Half chose to become mortal, and so left. Half remained, though they roam elsewhere tonight.

[At this point, Seirian lost power IRL and disconned. Further poses including her are the GM's.]

Walks-Far-Alone continues to play with the children, keeping them entertained and our of their elders' way. She blinks as some of them change form, and asks of one (without rolling back over), Are you Garou? Distracted as she is by the shifting, she's at the children's (and pup's) mercy once more.

The tidal wave of young fae rolls over Walks again as they all pronounce a loud negative in response to her question.

Clouded Sky's breath catches, and her eyes travel the room. She returns her attention to the old wolf. And now your mate is gone. And you are left a fisherman of the inland sea? Could you return to pack and lands if you so chose?

The wolf lays back his ears sadly. No, to leave these lands would be my death. I was old when I came, and to return to the land of my birth would bring upon me the seven times seven years I have spent here, eating of their food and drinking of their drink. I would crumble and perish on the spot. No, it is better for me to remain, a lord of their woods, keeper of the wolves and Garou who come here, he who would make safe the travels of mortals. I know that should I weary too much, death awaits only my decision.

Walks-Far-Alone not only accepts the young ones' attention, she seems almost to enjoy it. She lets herself be sat on by one, even as another explores her hindpaw with curious fingers. She reaches out to snuffle at the fur of one of the pups. Can you change into anything else?

The pup so snurfled abruptly becomes a chicken, and then a frog, and then a snake, and then a platypus. It returns to puppy form, lolling its tongue smugly. I can be anything I want!

Walks-Far-Alone half rolls over, coming to rest on her side as she looks at the all-in-one pup in surprise. Wow, she says, not having to fake being impressed. That's pretty good!

Clouded Sky seems to relax some as the old wolf speaks. The lift of her paw tells of a memory returning. Did you now the Sorrowed One?

The pup slurps Walks' nose. Yup! I can't be big yet, but I will soon!

The wolf's face creases with a thoughtful expression not entirely lupine in origin. My... my memory is not so good, he says with the confused excusing of failure to remember that often comes to victims of Alzheimer's.

Walks-Far-Alone's ears splay as her nose is licked. She returns the gesture, her tongue running under the pup's chin before continuing along its face. As one child climbs astride her ribs, the Fianna turns her head to give it a quick licking, too. Can you all do that?

They all shake their heads. "Some of us," says one blue-skinned child proudly, "can do this!" And he >poofs< into a cloud of smoke.

A woman, as beautiful as the first Lady, yet possessed of flowing black hair and high cheekbones, claps her hands on the highest tier above the tumbling waters. "Attention! The time is upon us!"

Walks-Far-Alone's breath snorts out through her nose in surprise. That- that must come in handy. She shifts position enough to allow herself to look toward the call.

Clouded Sky turns her attention to the second woman, ears forward to catch every nuance of her speech, since some of the words will be lost.

"Tonight, we gather the light, the light is returning to the world and we catch some little corner of it to ourselves, and we release the renewed headwaters of the river beneath us, our little way of renewing the land we can only visit occasionally in these days of woe." She gestures below her at the lake. "Let the dance begin!"

Walks-Far-Alone untangles herself from the pile of children and sits up, her attention trained on the speaker.

Clouded Sky trains her eyes on the old wolf once more, hoping to take some clue from him what this rite may mean for her.

On the flat dance floor, twelve harpers step up. Twelve drummers join them. Twelve flutists ring them. They start slowly, testingly, a long, slow, muddy chord of notes. The beats of the drums are erratic and faint. The crowd falls silent and begins to spread out through the cavern, each individual finding space. Some of them flex silently, twisting their limbs, or bending as if in a breeze.

Pausing only to give that multi-shifting pup a lick goodbye, Walks-Far makes her way across to Sky and sits. The elder wolf gets a lowering of her head in greeting before the Fianna goes back to watching the event.

The old wolf rises and shakes himself, stepping down to the floor from his perch. It begins, he indicates with a flip of his ears, and he steps forward, stretching upward to a heavily muscled hispo.

Among the flutes and drums and harps, a single, clear, pure woman's voice rises wordlessly, creating a melody amidst instrumental chaos. The sound of her voice sends a /frisson/ of sorts throughout the assembly, and it is almost as though the beings here are sleepers awakening after a long, deep sleep.

Clouded Sky glances briefly at Kasie and then back to the performance, tension, rising from uncertaintly, returning to her form.

Walks-Far-Alone seems to be picking up on the other wolf's feelings and she shifts her weight a bit. Her ears cast backwards for a moment at the voice, then return to a more neutral tilt.

The old wolf turns to the pair. You must hunt the light and bring it back. Only mortals can carry it. It is there, he says, looking down another passageway, this one not nearly so large or wide. Return it before the music ends.

Clouded Sky's eyes peer into the darkness of the tunnel, while her ears tilt backward. She turns to the Fianna, looking for answers from the one who might understand these matters better than she.

The instruments catch Seirian's melody and start coming together, slowly, the rhythm still disoriented.

The funny thing is, Walks-Far is looking towards Clouded Sky with just that same sort of questioning look. She takes a long glance at the dark opening, then rises. Let's try?

Clouded Sky breathes deeply, one ear quivering slightly as she weighs her options. One paw raised, she pauses to ask of the old wolf, What is the cost of failure?

The elder wolf stretches out a paw and steps, delicately, apparently joining the dance. The price of failure is that the renewal of the river will not happen. No one will die, no one will be trapped here forever. The rite will simply fail. It does, occasionally.

Walks-Far-Alone listens to the answer, then gives Sky another look, checking out her reaction. The Fianna seems willing enough to try.

Clouded Sky finishes her halted step, huffing, caught somewhere between a wish to be fully joyous at this occasion, and a distrust so deep she cannot see past it. With each step she moves more quickly, and is soon loping toward the darkness of the passage.

Walks-Far-Alone tilts her head in surprise at the other Garou's chosen pace, but she matches it and within a few paces, she catches up.

The passage yawns open. The floor is scattered with sharp rocks and dips in the level. The angle is downward, and the scent that rises is that of a great, sleeping animal, mingled with a sharp, golden scent.

Clouded Sky slows as the darkness surrounds them, using her nose to guide her toward the golden and sleeping scent.

Three passages fork out, all of them smelling equally of the scent. One is gilded with fluorescent fungus. One is utterly dark and smells musty as well. One is dark and dank.

Walks-Far-Alone whufs loud enough to catch the other's attention as they near the mouth, Slow down! Easing back on her own pace, she continues at a walk. She stops at the split, extending her head to sniff down each of them. Which one? I don't think we should split up.

Clouded Sky pauses at the fork and turns to the Fianna. The scent comes equally from all. Let us try first the one to the left, with the dank smell. If that does not take us where we wish to go, we can return and try another?

Walks-Far-Alone indicates agreement and steps forward, her ears pricked sharply ahead and her nose at work. She keeps to a walk, not rushing needlessly.

Behind, the music has come together and has grown a slow, heartbeat tempo. Seirian's voice still arcs in and around the instruments like a diving swift.

Clouded Sky pushes the pace a little, moving as quickly as the darkness allows.

In the darkness, much body language is lost. Walks-Far reaches out and bumps Sky lightly with her head. Easy.

The dank tunnel grows slippery and slimy underpaw, a thick layer of decaying vegetation squishing at each step. The spoor grows stronger, mingling with the wet, rotting smell. Sky brushes against one of the closing walls and she realizes that there is not stone, but heavy, dark plants forming the tunnel now.

The music's tempo is picking up, the rhythm speeding.

Clouded Sky slows still more as the ground becomes slimy. She walks as close to the edge now as she can, finding its nearness comforting in the dark.

Walks-Far-Alone chooses to stick close to Sky, instead, close enough so that their fur brushes every few steps. The pair continue onward.

The dank odor abruptly becomes rank, as in aging excrement. It does, however, have that peculiar sharp poke at the back of the throat that indicates herbivorous habits. Usually.

Clouded Sky huffs. Something lives here.

Walks-Far-Alone's ear twitch of agreement is lost in the dark, so she seconds it with the Mother's Tongue, ~Yes. But it doen't smell like a hunter.~

There is shifting of a body that also shakes the ground and the sound of something rolling over and groaning.

Clouded Sky continues on. ~It is large, and defacates in its lair, or very near.~

Walks treads upon something long and thin that twitches under her paw. The music is rising, both in speed and intricacy, and it sounds like the musicians have broken into at least four groups to weave the music around Seirian's single line.

~Yes,~ the Fianna answers as she continues slowly along, keeping her voice down. ~Think we should have seen the light by now? Unless it's, uh, on it, or some-~ she jumps at the movement underpaw, ~-thing?~

Whatever that movement was attached to begins to rumble, and heaves itself to its feet. The trees part overhead as the creature's shoulders shove it away, and the light of the moon shines down on a gigantic, draconic thing that blinks blearily down at the two wolves.

Clouded Sky pauses at Walks's jumping, and stops completely at the movement of the thing before them. She stares up at it, ears laying flat against her head. Her greeting is somewhat forced and betrays signs of her fear.

Walks-Far-Alone's tongue appears once, then again, moving nervously across her nose. Without actually stepping backwards, she shrinks down a bit, seconding Sky's greeting to it.

It peers at the wolves, blinks again, and yawns. Light flickers out of its open mouth.

Clouded Sky tilts her head at that, and, after a beat, yawns herself. Her ears come forward, tail giving an almost imperceptible wag.

It yawns again, suggestibly.

Walks-Far-Alone's eyes are drawn to something, and she starts to murmur to Sky, but interrupts herself with a jaw-cracking yawn. Almost literally. A loud popping comes from the Fianna's jaw, much like a knuckle being cracked. She winces.

It smacks its mouth, blinks a few times, and yawns again. The light is a bit brighter this time.

The music has broken apart into thirteen separate melody lines, twelve of which are twining around Seirian's voice.

Clouded Sky steps back a pace, yawning as she does so, tail lifting as well.

Walks-Far-Alone starts another yawn, but her jaw crackles again before she even half-way finishes it. Her ears lay back and she glances side-long at Sky, then steps back further into the tunnel's shadows, too.

The draconic thing yawns, its jaws adding crackling noises to the sounds in the hallway, and then yawns again. An orb of light is now visible in its mouth.

Clouded Sky yawns wide and long, while with her mind she shares a dream with Kasie. Can the orb be plucked from its mouth, or can it be made to cough it forward? Or do we convince the creature to yawn at the river.

The flicker of old pain in her jaw is enough to keep the Fianna from echoing the gesture again. Keeping her muzzle tightly shut, she moves as far back as she can without loosing sight of it. Her answer comes in a questioning picure: the pair of them traveling all the way down into its belly to get the thing, if it's that far? What could we find to make it sneeze (and maybe break the light when it goes flying out?) ...Think it would just come out if we made it open its mouth by the water?

The critter yawns once more, longer and wider, the glow warmly lighting the entire tunnel. The orb wobbles on its tongue.

Walks-Far-Alone pages: How low is its head to the ground?
You paged Walks-Far-Alone with 'It's about six feet up.'.

Clouded Sky steps back once more as she forces a yawn as wide as she can make it. In her near-dream with Kasie, she continues yawning and the orb falls out on its own. She questions whether Kasie believes this will work, even as she attempts it outside the dream.

Walks-Far-Alone allows herself a sort of half-yawn, that being as much of her answer as the thought of running up and snatching the light being a much better idea than diving into its mouth.

The creature opens its mouth to yawn again, its jaws popping, eyes scrunched shut. The music rapidly ascending to a speed that will soon tax even faerie musicians.

Walks-Far-Alone pages: How big does the light seem? Can jaws grab it or will hands be needed?
You paged Walks-Far-Alone with 'The orb is about the size of a softball, so, with a bit of stretching, your jaws could handle it, yes.'.
Clouded Sky pages: How tall is this thing?
You paged Clouded Sky with 'The mouth is about six feet off the ground, and the orb is about the size of a softball.'.
Clouded Sky pages: Is the light emiting warmth, as in radiant heat, or just light (so far as I can tell from here)?
You paged Clouded Sky with 'Seems to be mostly light. There's a bit of heat, but probably less than your standard incandescent bulb.'.

Clouded Sky's tail wags behind her, and as she yawns one more time she braces herself for a leap at the plainly visible orb. Should the creature close its eyes this time, she will be ready to snatch it in her own jaws.

The dragon yawns again, tongue out and curling, eyes squinching shut, a long exhalation almost drowning out the music.

Walks-Far-Alone's yawn comes again, a full one and will a slighter popping sound than before. She thinks of herself covering Sky's back once she does have it.

Clouded Sky pages: If there's an opening, she's going for it. (Gods what a fool.)
You paged Clouded Sky with 'There's an opening! Pose it! :)'.

Clouded Sky takes the opening that's offered and leaps upward and toward the open maw and the orb that resides therein. Her own jaws ready to grasp the light if she can but reach it.

Walks-Far-Alone shifts up to Hispo, watching the dragon closely in case it decides a midnight snack would be in order.

Sky snatches the light from the dragon's tongue and lands neatly in a particularly thick pile of rotting plants. The dragon finishes its yawn, missing the swoop by the Garou completely. It smacks its mouth. It does it again. There is a light, dawning in its eyes that something may be amiss.

Clouded Sky gathers her feet underneath her and with a gruff half-choked sound emerging from around the orb she begins running back down the passageway.

Walks-Far-Alone steps aside, keeping her now greater bulk from blocking the way for Sky. She watches the dragon a moment, then turns tail and scoots down the passageway after her, shifting back to lupus as she goes.

The way back is quicker than the progress down, and when the light of the cavern is clearly visible, the sound of the dragon becoming disgruntled rumbles up the passage.

The pair breaks into the cavern, which is alive with frenzied, twisting, multi-colored bodies.

The fae still, somehow, manage to part for the two Garou, and leave a road clear to the lake.

Walks-Far-Alone trots along at Sky's side, her head raised high and her hackles lifted; she looks ever the part of the guard.

Clouded Sky slows some as she enters the cavern. She heads directly for the lake, though her eyes and nose scan the multitudes, searching for the woman who began the rite.

The woman is watching the proceedings from her lofty perch. She inclines her head to Sky and sweeps one hand toward the water. Her smooth motion is in complete contrast to the fevered music and the crazed dancers. The music twists up along Seiri's voice, pushing her toward one, final high-note as Sky reaches the lake.

Walks-Far-Alone's tail wags as she walks with Sky to the water, then looks at her expectantly, a expression of pride about her face.

Clouded Sky's right ear twitches, uncertain, but her tail curls up over her back and as Seiri's song reaches its climax she drops the orb into the water below.

The dragon pokes its head out of the tunnel as the orb hits the water and light erupts all across its surface, uplifting the colors of the cavern from the cold blue of the flames to the fuller, golden light of the orb. The dancers collapse as one, crawling toward tables for drinks and other sustenance. Touch Deer and Seiri and the Lady are then there, behind Sky and Walks.

"You may choose the manner of your departure," the Lady informs them. "You may take the risk of the lake, as we open the headwaters. Or you may run home. One way brings a gift, the other way brings a gift. Your choice."

Walks-Far-Alone rouches Sky's shoulder with her muzzle. Running worked for me before. You up for it?

Clouded Sky looks at the others, not being a great swimmer, yet feeling the tingle of adrenalyn still flowing in her veins, and aproving of a challenge. Her ear tilts in query.

The other two look to Sky and Walks for their decisions.

Walks-Far-Alone inclines her head. She'd much rather run, but will swim if that's really what Sky wants to.

Clouded Sky's ears splay outward and a little back in disappointment. Let us run. Her tail, curled over her back, gives a small wag.

The fae split apart again, leaving a track to the exit for the Garou. As they progress that way, they are inundated with flowers. The running begins and it is only a few minutes of running that leaves them in their own lands. Between the four of them as they stop, a shimmering necklace drops between them, a crystal lit from within by the strange blue flames of Faerie.

Back to home.