[Sandra] :: LOG :: It's Been a While

[gmlogbox]

Characters: Brings-the-Pack, Isaac, Sandra, Yael
Location: Caern - Stone Firepit
Time: 7/15/2017 - Night - Half Moon (Waning)

Summary: What begins as a pleasant albeit still somewhat nonplussed conversation between Sandra and Yael turns into a less pleasant and somewhat snarly exchange with a cougar-mage that doesn't realize until too late that he's eating his own foot.

Although clearly the Strider has moved at some point during the day, right now, the smaller black wolf is curled up a few feet from where she had gone to sleep the night prior. However, Gathers-Strength is awake, evidenced by the fact that her ears are alert and flicking towards sounds, and the occasional movement of her tail.

There's some notable sounds coming from the forest-- and some notable smells, as well. The usual lingering terror that comes from a prey animal, overwhelmed as it is by the scent of blood. A glance in the direction it, and the heavier footfalls are coming from, reveals a familiar oversized wolf heading in her general direction, the carcass of a fairly large rabbit hanging from the Shadow Lord's jaws. A flick of an ear and slight raise of her head signals a 'hello,' and the carcass is dropped somewhat unceremoniously by the Strider's front paws. Eat. Winter's Bite runs her tongue over her bloodied muzzle before letting it loll partly out of her mouth, the temperature and a heavy pelt making cooling off quite necessary. You've been asleep for a while.

Gathers-Strength's nose twitches, slightly, and her tongue lolls, before she moves to give the Shadow Lord's muzzle a slight lick as she gets slightly up. Thank you. The appreciation-- and maybe that's a little bit of surprise showing as well? it's a rare amount of being able to mask visible feelings in lupus, but Gathers-Strength seems to be able to do so at least a little, remaining harder to read-- is clear. Ran a very long way day before today, she notes. A very long way, very fast. A rather unceremonious bite is torn from the rabbit following that, and then another.

Winter's Bite returns the faint lick, her ears appropriately splayed back when the gesture is offered, a sense that the Strider was, in fact, missed made clear in a short-lived, and rather soft involuntary whine that itself is wordless. Still serves the purpose of 'you're welcome' as much as anything else. She settles not far from the other Philodox, laying partly on her side to groom her front paws, and not seeming overtly eager for a meal of her own. Presumably, she's already eaten. I didn't travel far. But I get the impression we both took our leave for roughly the same amount of time. She looses a light grunt, continuing to clean her paws before setting to work on getting the rest of the blood off her muzzle. Clearly, I was gone too long.

The Strider pins the dead rabbit in place with one front paw and takes another several bites, and her ears flatten and there is a moment of pause. Too long, she agrees. I did not mean to, but one thing and then another happened. In many places this... change, she finally settles on, would be chaos and in-fighting. Gathers-Strength went to the main sept of her tribe, and then further. But I am back now, and I plan to stay that way.

An ear flicks, and Winter's Bite looks around the area, still lolling her tongue to vent excess heat, and still keeping the Strider in her peripheral vision to watch the cues. Her attention settles back on Gathers-Strength not long after, and the grooming continues, pausing only with a contemplative grumble. This, too, is wordless, expressing that low boil of anger that always seems to be beneath her skin-- a bit more exaggerated than usual, even under her Auspice moon. All the more reason to keep a respectful distance.
The more we have that remain, the more peaceful, maybe. ...A pause. I am... She looses a snort. Uncertain. Of how best to-- '...parse' isn't really a word that comes through in lupine, but the sentiment is present-- what's happened. I'm curious what your take is on it.

That tension isn't quite as intense in the Strider's posture, but despite the outward sleepiness, it's there in a slight rigidity. On the other hand, she lets the Shadow Lord set the distance between them, unbothered by the other's presence or distance. And then, Gathers-Strength takes several more bites of the rabbit and begins to chew on one of the bones while she listens. I am no more certain than you, she notes, and shakes her head from side to side for a moment before settling back down. A question follows. How long had he been alpha for? And who was the alpha, before that?

Brings-the-Pack slips into the caern from the northeastern woods, looks about to ensure there are no ongoing fights to the death, and begins to circle about--in an obvious manner so as to be noticed easily--towards the gathering at the fire pit. He offers a "Good evening" in English as he draws nearer tha pair of garou already present.

It's the Shadow Lord's turn to shake her head slightly. I don't know his predecessor. I only know he'd been Alpha for over a year. Nearing on two. Her attention turns, then, as the cougar makes himself known, her tail giving a couple lazy swishes against the ground in a generally friendly welcome, the more relaxed posture traded out for getting back up onto her feet, and shaking the bits of dirt off her pelt. From there, she shifts back to her breed form, hastily wiping excess rabbit blood off her face in a fashion that isn't overtly conspicuous. "It's been a while."

Gathers-Strength makes a slight snort when Brings-the-Pack arrives. Although all in all, she doesn't sound overly displeased to see the mage-cat, though. The next thing that the Strider visibly wonders is who exactly, is going to step up. The Strider, rather than shifting to her birth form, jumps down from where she was sitting next to the fire and sprawls out on the ground, shifting up to hispo after she has done so.

Brings-the-Pack joins the others around the fire pit, taking care to maximize the distance between himself and the garou present. He seems to understand the lupus tongue and to have caught bits of the earlier conversation. "Who is going to step up to what?" he inquires curiously.

There's no hiding the slight scowl that arises on account of Gathers-Strength's question, Sandra's mood darkening alongside it. It's not so dire that it's cause for concern, but it's certainly there. "To take the mantle of Alpha," she says to the mage, followed by a pause. She tempers the look on her face as she watches him, and says, "I take it you haven't heard?"

Gathers-Strength folds herself back to laying down after she takes the mostly-eaten rabbit in her jaws and sets it down in front of her new spot, and scoots perhaps slightly closer to the other philodox as she settles. ~News travels fast,~ she rumbles, ~except where it doesn't. And then again, we only heard just last night. Give it some time.~ There's a harsher tone to the words, though, a soft growl that Yael can't quite mask. To Brings-the-Pack, she adds in further explanation, ~The alpha up and left with very little warning.~

"I have been traveling a good deal, and I have been tending to my territory since I recently returned. I am not up to date on current events." The cougar seems a little disturbed by the news, as if he might have grown comfortable with the Shadow Lord's alphaship of the sept. "I hope things are well with him." The silver wolf gets a quick assessment as his presence is noted.

Sandra, similarly, turns her attention to the newcomer, though that attention is quickly snapped back in the mage's direction at the amended sentiment. "He abandoned his post," she says, the very clear anger in those words clearly exaggerated, and probably not meant to be leveled on the cougar. But, well, here we are. "No advanced warning. The only excusable reason for that kind of dereliction of duty is being killed, captured, or coerced. For his sake, I should hope one of the three applies."

The silver wolf tips his head to one side, and then the other, and then rights himself and trots down the small slope toward the others. His jaw drops open, tongue lolling in a pleased greeting as he nears.

The pressure on her foot leads Sandra's shoulders to jump slightly, pointing out to her that *perhaps* the kind of hyperfocus she's placing on an unintended target might not-- really be appreciated. Or warranted. She shoots a quick glance in the Strider's direction, then looks back to Brings-the-Pack, "My apologies," offered tersely, but sincerely. "As I recall, you and he were-- amicable. It only makes sense that you'd be concerned," even if 'concerned' might not be the right word. A glance is made towards the newcomer again, and, easing a bit more, she says, "Sandra Ulrich," moving straight on to introductions as if to sweep that little outburst under the rug, even if remnants of it are lingering behind. "Brings Winter's Bite. Fostern Philodox. Shadow Lords."

The silver wolf licks his muzzle and then settles back onto his haunches with an exaggerated yawn. Innocence, he indicates, apparently refering to himself. Half-Moon. Silver Fangs. He rises long enough to give a rough shake and then settles again, looking toward the cougar. Cat!

Gathers-Strength twists her ears forward towards the Silver Fang in acknowledgement, but doesn't seem inclined to move much from where she's now settled. The hispo is doing a fairly good imitation of a liquid, one paw on Sandra's foot still. Towards Brings-the-Pack, the Strider says, ~Even by the most lax interpretations, we have laws and rules against the sort of thing that he did.~ She pauses, and the look that the magecat receives is a little less friendly, although no explanation is offered. ~Someone will have to step up in the long term. Someone that has enough influence that the Garou of this sept will follow her-- or him.~

Brings-the-Pack cocks his head at the newcomer wolf and offers an introduction as well. "Yes. A cat among wolves. I am Brings-the-Pack. A warper allied with this sept. It is a pleasure to meet you, Innocence. I have no seen a Silver Fang in quite some time. Good to know they are still around." He then concedes to Sandra, "I respected him. Something I thought I might never be able to say about any Shadow Lord. Which is why this.... It surprises me. Mouse, I suspect," he says, coincidentally mentioning someone known to know the mage's true identity, "would be an ideal Alpha. Or Salem." Another person announced as knowing the mage's true identity.

While the introduction earns a nod, the comment on Shadow Lords earns an arch of Sandra's brow, but this doesn't come with any corresponding anger, even if it remains at a fairly noticeable simmer. "Mouse has apparently stated that she doesn't want the appointment, and that she will only serve as interim. As for Salem--" There's a pause. "I have no opinion on that. But I've heard tell that the feeling isn't mutual."

Innocence licks his nose and settles down further. His focus still seems to be on the cougar, the rest of the conversation getting no more than a flick of his ear as he listens.

Gathers-Strength flattens one ear, and lifts her head for a moment to give the magecat a possibly harder look than necessary. ~And what do you know of the leadership of the Garou?~ she asks him. ~What makes you so certain that this Sept would follow one of the urrah?~ Although at least the tone of which Gathers-Strength says 'urrah' doesn't make it any /more/ derogatory. ~I have met and respect Scar. I have not met Mouse. What would make either of them ideal when their city is so far from here?~

"If Mouse and Salem do not want the position, it is likely a moot point. However, Salem has briefly served as Alpha in the past, and...." There's a rather pregnant pause here as the cougar-mage seems to draw attention to himself. "... The sept is not exactly a traditional one." He then demonstrates a bit of knowledge about the sept's history. "There have been a number of Alphas from a variety of tribes over the decades. Brian of the Fianna. Andrea of the Children of Gaia. Jacinta of the Wendigo. Little Silvertip of the Uktena. Salem of the Glass Walkers. Those are the ones I know of, and I suspect there have been more. Likely the grave markers in the burial grounds might offer some additional insights."

For Sandra's part, that lingering spike of anger hasn't left her; isn't diminishing, either, the longer she listens. Something about what's said, or how it's said - or perhaps just the configuration of the individuals present - eventually does seem to be a breaking point, however, the Shadow Lord tugging her foot out from underneath the Strider with about as much dignity and subtlety as can reasonably be managed, assuming she can manage it at all. And much as it's clear that she's *very* tempted to take a parting shot, whatever that happens to be, "I have some other matters to attend to," is said curtly. To the Silver Fang, "Some other time, perhaps," in as amiable a fashion as can be put forward.

The Silver Fang lifts his head to look at Sandra when she addresses him, flicking an ear backward in acknowledgement, though he doesn't seem inclined to answer any more verbally than that. He looks over to the cougar again and his jaws part with good humor. Ravenfeeder.

Gathers-Strength lifts the paw that was on Sandra's foot just enough to allow the Shadow Lord exit, with an easy-going nose bump to her hand before she's quite all the way free, and then more slowly, she pushes to sitting. Not quite standing, yet-- perhaps letting the other take a bit of a walk first before following to catch up. Instead, she does address Brings-the-Pack. ~You never actually answered my question. You are /not/ Garou,~ she points out, ~and the leadership of a Sept or of the Nation as a whole...~ she trails off, and swings her head back and forth in a fairly negatory manner, echoed by the brief low growl.

Brings-the-Pack cocks his head slightly at the Fang's comment, but then looks to the Strider as she address him. "Sorry. I am a little--well, a lot actually--mentally distracted this evening. What was your question that I neglected to answer?"