Post by Marks-The-Prey on Feb 27, 2011 4:05:57 GMT -8
Marks-The-Prey: A Tale Spun by Matron Lydia “Sighted-Dreams” Carrea
The Dream
“Please, sit. Let the tale I speak fill your ears, let it dance in your minds, and pace your hearts.” The campfire had died out and darkened silhouettes could be roughly seen around the glowing embers. The voice that spoke was one of age. In the pale orange hue of the dying embers all the listeners could make out of the Matron was her sightless eye. Her wrinkled skin hung loosely, her fur matted and thin. She spoke with the two-leg tongue despite her lupus snout.
“I have words to share of a night that I once shared with my ancestors, a night that has come and gone.”
“As you all know fair Luna, hides her face once each cycle. She prepares to share her light, and fill our kind with hope, and fighting spirit. But even in her moments of reflection she gives us gifts. It was on this new moon that a pair of questioners were birthed.” The Matron’s voice wheezed for a moment. Her age prevented her from reliving her long-winded days as a cub. After a moment she continued.
“On this new moon, Brother Wind was particularly upset. By what right I do not know. Brother Wind let out cries and howls, screams and sighs, and tussled with the trees and any creature not secured to the Earth. It was on this night that a mother panted heavily. Her pack was nervous at the fury of Brother Wind and the difficultly she was having with her pups. The first two pups had emerged still as the Earth and without breath. The pack and mother feared that they would be without new blood this spring.”
A few of the listeners stirred, one took in breath as if they might ask a question. The Matron paused and the listeners settled and she went on.
“As the pack lost hope and prepared to move without the mother, a sharp tiny yip erupted from near the mother. A tiny ball of fur and fluids was curled up tightly near its mother but breathing and moving it was. Shortly after a second pup emerged and bore identical markings to the first. The mother licked the pair clean and closed her eyes to rest. The Pack raised their voices and called out with Brother Wind letting him carry their joy out into his tempest. Born a pair of twins were.”
A young man shifted his position and disturbed the remains of the fire and sent ash and embers twirling into the night sky. As the Matron looked to him and he suddenly asked, “So are we to take that wolves have it hard or something? I mean I think it is kind of cool that they can still find places to live but I don’t understand what a couple of pups are so important.”
The circle grew quiet at he finished his statement. The Matron’s sightless eye seemed to weigh down on the young cub. Color rose in his cheeks and he began to feel foolish and upset that no one was responding. As he appeared as if he might began to speak again the Matron rebuked. “You fail to see the meaning because you failed to be patient. If you ask the Sky where it ends and the Earth begins you will be confused by its reply as well.” The cub felt the sting of her gruff words and slouched slightly, bowing his head.
The Crimson Creek
A low noise could be heard from the Matron as a slight wind picked up. “If you are having trouble following the story observe the embers and watch as your eyes will.” The wind began to twirl the embers and ash of the fire till they looked as if they were a moving picture of the story the Matron intoned.
“The pups grew to cubs, and cubs to juveniles as do all young wolves. The young twins and the pack were unaware of the differences they possessed. Of the pair the older of the two grew quickly and with much strength. Calls-The-Night, as he became know, was a good fighter, and could almost enchant prey with his howls. The youngest of the pair deferred to his elder and as it was becoming apparent, a potential pack alpha. Marks-The-Prey developed his ability to hunt and track beyond the merit of even the most-established hunters. The twins were close. They played together, they fought together, and they hunted together. As the two-legs call it, they loved each other.”
The audience began to show concern. They watched the event play out in the dancing embers as if they were present for each event. The embers had captivated them and all they could do is hold their breath between each pause in complete rapture of the tale.
Matron continued, “As the young pair came to their maturity, after two springs, the wind they ushered them into this world returned. Brother Wind was in a distasteful mood. He tore at the trees, agitated Brother River, and challenged Grandfather Thunder high in the sky. The pack hunted swiftly hoping to catch their prey and find shelter to wait out the tantrum. As they neared the catch, a rather proud looking elk, Calls-The-Night went in for the kill and lost his footing. Caught by the wind he stumbled and was tossed into a shallow creek. The pack stopped and looked on with amused eyes. A wolf who had recently joined early in the spring and who was nearing maturity himself took the opportunity to challenge Calls-The-Night in the terrible weather. Making a point to blame Calls-The-Night for the loss of their prey. Enraged by the poorly timed challenge and the embarrassment of the circumstance, Calls-The-Night felt his body swell. Luna’s face turned, unable to watch the events of her children. Calls-The-Night rose from the creek standing on his hind legs. His chest barreled like a two-legs and claws and fangs sprang forth to lay low his challenger. It only took a moment before the ambitious wolf lay in ribbons. The pack paralyzed with fear did not comprehend what to do. Calls-The-Night could not contain himself he leapt from pack mate to pack mate clawing and biting at them. One of the first to fall was their mother. At the sight of this Marks-The-Prey was overwhelmed by fury at his brother’s actions and rose in size. He retained his four-legged composure but dwarfed his pack mates. Mark-The-Prey and Calls-The-Night fought back and forth. With every loss of ground on the part of Marks-The-Prey, another pack mate fell to his brother’s claws. As the creek ran crimson with the lifeblood of all they knew the brothers collapsed. They returned to simple wolves, marred by the wounds they gave each other they lost sight and slept.”
A few of the listeners were shaking slightly. They were crying, some with tears of rage, others with tears and hearts of sorrow.
Loss of the Alpha, Fall of the Hunter
Matron Lydia observed the eyes of those that watched her. The sparkle of tears was drying but their hunger for the story could be seen pouring from them. The fire once again began to twirl images of the Matron’s words and their attention fixed to the embers anew.
“The brothers awoke to a new world. They shook their sore bodies and looked about them. They could see no sign of their pack. They had both vague memories of the previous night. They expected to see their pack mate’s bodies littering the creek and its immediate area. The only clue the confirmed their recollection of the night previous was the stained red Earth about them, the smell of blood in the air, and the seemingly complete lack of wildlife in the vicinity. As they looked to each other and thoughts came to mind of challenging one another, a wolf appeared from nowhere. He looked as if he had simple stepped from a cut of air and landed between them. The strange wolf introduced himself as Humbles-The-Two-Legs. The pair was confused. The stranger went on to announce that he was a Garou and so were the brothers. As the explanations were given and instruction started the pair began their journey as Gaia’s warriors. Humbles-The-Two-Legs went on as their mentor and told them that they were a rare pair. They were descended of a tribe of Garou known as the Uktena. They were an ancient bloodline of tied to the founder and were some of the last remaining pureblooded kin of a figure known as Older Brother. Humbles-The-Two-Legs conveyed he was of a Tribe called the Red Talons. He was born under the Full Moon and was a mighty warrior. As the pair learned of the Garou ways and heard the history of their tribe and the state of the world they found that there was much hatred for the Two-Legs and for those known as Wyrmcomers. Those born on two legs and those of the tribes Shadow Lord, Fianna, and Silver Fang were to be dealt with warily. The brothers set the tragedy of their pack behind them and worked hard to master the new nature they knew. After one moon cycle the brother were brought to begin their Rite of Passage, their culmination and initiation into their tribe. As the Sept of the Craggy Woods called out those present, the challenge given to the pair was to locate one of the Great Uktena’s scales. The brothers accepted and raced off in search of the treasure. They searched the rivers, climbed the mountains, and combed the caves all the while looking for signs of the Great Uktena. As the third day of their search was coming to a close Marks-The-Prey stumbled upon an unfamiliar scent and followed its trail. The brothers found themselves atop one side of a great ravine. On the opposite side sat a man with wild hair and a dark look in his eye. Calls-The-Night challenged his presence and demanded to know his business.
“A bright sun to the pair of you.” The man called out. His presence set off every nervous worry in Marks-The-Prey’s body. Marks-The-Prey felt that after his first change that he was the undisputed top of the food chain. But this two-legs made him feel like the weakest, slowest, and most terrified creature of prey. The man wasn’t even standing or bearing fang. He wasn’t aggressive; something about him was just pure wrong!
Marks-The-Prey tried to urge Calls-The-Night to leave with him. He tried to convey his feeling to his less “primal” older brother. Calls-The-Night ignored Marks-The-Prey and challenged the two-legs again. “Who are you? And what business do you have on this land?” Calls-The-Night barked, much less kindly then before.
The man replied again, “I have what you are looking for young ones. If you want what you seek you need but follow me. I can show you through your quest and ensure you find more power and strength then you could possibly imagine.”
Calls-The-Night waited for a moment, as if giving the two-legs a chance to continue. All the while Marks-The-Prey whined quietly, just loud enough so that only Calls-The-Night could hear his distress.
The man went on, “If the pair of you would simply leap this chasm I can lead you to a place of power where all items and quests eventually end. I can show you the path to let you rise and pass all those you stand before you. No need to wait in line, patiently scraping for praise from your elders and alphas. You can be THE alpha today. Just jump on over here.” The way he said his last statement sent a shiver up Marks-The-Prey’s spine. There was power in his voice and even Marks-The-Prey considered jumping over there. It seemed like it was a reasonable enough request. Then he came back to his senses and barked loudly and forcefully at Calls-The-Night. The glazed look in his brother’s eyes vanished and he turned to look both confused and angry at Marks-The-Prey.
“WHAT!?” Barked Calls-The-Night to his younger brother. “We need to go, older brother. This is bad; we must not go with him. He is wrong. Very wrong.” Marks-The-Prey pleaded with his brother.
“Your lack of drive is what makes you never capable of being alpha, you don’t have the vision to do what needs to be done.” Calls-The-Night said to his brother with disdain. Marks-The-Prey could not once recall his older brother being cruel to him. He could not remember a moment when he was unfair as alpha, and could not imagine him saying something like that. Calls-The-Night turned to walk towards the chasm, intending to leap to the other side. The two-legs smiled mirthlessly and stood, waiting patiently for the jump.
Without thinking Marks-The-Prey leapt forward and in a blind attempt bit at his brother. He tried to bite his legs, hoping his brother would be unable to make the jump should he be wounded. Calls-The-Night always the combatant stepped lightly out of the way and turned to face his brother. Marks-The-Prey found and opening and bit down hard on the low of his brother’s back, tasting blood and hopefully success at his goal.
Suddenly Marks-The-Prey felt a great pain on the back of his neck. He new the feeling, but there was much more forced and malice in this pain. Calls-The-Night had bit down hard on the back of his neck, looking to paralyze and release himself from his brother’s jaws.
Marks-The-Prey yelped and released his brother, slumping to the ground. His brother shook him violently, and Marks-The-Prey could no long feel his paws, his chest, or his tail for that matter. He lay unmoving. Calls-The-Night released his brother and took a few steps back and leapt across the chasm. He landed almost a little short and had to scrabble over and up the edge of the ravine. He limped a bit on the other side, the wound on his back affecting more than he would like to show.
Marks-The-Prey watched as two tall figures walked out from the trees. It was a pair of Garou in their war form. They deferred to the two-legs and the four of them began to walk away.
Marks-The-Prey could do nothing for his brother. As the evening moved towards the night, he could feel his life-blood failing. He could not remain awake. Marks-The-Prey drifted off to become one with Gaia once again.
Gaia’s Grace
“YOU’RE TELLING IT WRONG! GO BACK AND CHANGE THE ENDING!” The young one who had interrupted the Matron previously was now standing and shouting. There were tears in his eyes, and rage in his voice. As the Matron looked around the speaking circle she noticed rage and sadness in the faces on all of her listeners. The had looked as if one moment they might all leap up and tear her frail body apart, and the next be unable to breath anymore from the sheer weight of their depression.
“There is a lesson to his story young one.” The Matron said to the shouting Cub. “But first I must finish the tale.” She said tersely.
The cub looked as if the wind had just been knock from him. He slumped to the ground and his head lulled to the side and his eyes drifted over the again dancing embers.
Marks-The-Prey felt like he was having warm water poured over his cold body. He realized then that he could feel the warm sensation even down to the tip of his tail. His eyes flickered open and he could see that he was laying somewhere in the Caren heart. He felt his wounds sealing and strong blood once again flowing through him. He started to sit up and collapsed. A gentle hand rested on his side and asked him to remain down. Marks-The-Prey looked up into a face he had not met before. The Elder of the Caren asked what had happened and Marks-The-Prey told the pair the tale. As he finished he asked what had happened since his sleep. The older woman responded, “We had spirits watching the two of you and when we heard what had happened we raced to you two only to find you laying in your blood and your brother…” She trailed off biting her lower lip.
Marks-The-Prey hung his head and then let out a low noise till it rose and rose in volume. A howl filled with such pain and sorrow that every Garou, wolf, and even human who heard it stopped for a moment felt as if their breath had ceased. As the howl faded Marks-The-Prey coughed and a bloody piece of something landed on the ground before him. The older woman took some water and poured it over the object. As the blood washed away the older woman and the elder took in s sharp breath. They had seen something like this before. It was a Scale of the Great Uktena. The very object they had sent the brothers in search of. They had, of course, expected the brothers to return empty handed and for a lesson and understanding to be had at their efforts. But this was something neither could have imagined. The Elder spoke after a moment. “Even though you started as two, you alone Marks-The-Prey have come back with the object of your Rite of Passage. I now name you Marks-The-Prey, Calith of Uktena, Lupus born of the New Moon. You are now a member of the Garou Nation and a champion of Gaia. Use your prize and fight for what is right.”
The Elder and the older woman congratulated him and sent him to meet with his peers. Marks-The-Prey spent the next few weeks in quiet and sullen reflection. The other Calith tried to learn more about him but his sorrowful eyes and bland replies ended that, until he sat day in day out, very alone. The Elders seemed concerned that he might fall to Horano. But could do nothing to cheer him.
At one point while out on patrol, Guardianship was the latest idea by the Eldest to try and shake Marks-The-Prey out of his sorrow, he was sitting by a river and examining the Uktena Scale he now possessed.
Marks-The-Prey began to speak as if in a conversation, but there was no one around to hear him. “I thank you for your gift. I am so very honored that might provide a part of yourself so that I might be strong and wise as you. But I am too weak to help you or the other Garou. I could not even stop my brother from leaving me. All I know now is that he is known as Calls-The-Spinning-Night. He has danced the spiral and many claim one can not return from such a path. I do not believe them, but the wisdom your scale provides me has left me without thought or plan on how to remedy such an aliment. I wish to return your gift, perhaps in time I might be once again be worthy. Perhaps when I am nearing my brother your wisdom will then enlighten me to what I need to do.”
Marks-The-Prey stood and cast the Scale gently into the river, returning it to the Great Uktena.
Lightbringer and the Loadbearers
The enormous man sat by the river his feet floating as the river tugged gently. His pack sat behind him. Brings-The-O and Carries-The-Burden were having another spat over Natalia. Vicious Victory was adding adornments to his horn. Lightbringer was sitting in reflection, keeping his rage in check when he noticed a shimmer in the river. He waded over to the glint and reached in. As he stood to his full height Lightbringer was at a loss of words. He held a fabled Scale from the Great Uktena. Such a treasure, one does not find without reason. He examined it for a moment and then felt a wave of purpose. Lightbringer felt a strong need to go up the river.
“We are moving. Let’s go.” The sound of Lightbringer’s voice ceased the fighting and the pack quickly gathered their belongings and began walking up the shore.
An hour or so up the river the Pack found themselves watching a wolf sitting by the side of the river in quiet reflection.
Lightbringer stepped out from the brush and the wolf looked at him. The wolf stood slowly and said in a flat emotionless tone, “I challenge your presence, who are you and what business do you have here?”
Lightbringer felt the scale in his shirt and knew that this was what he had been sent to find. “I am Lightbringer, Alpah of the pack Loadbearers. I have come to seek your acceptance into our pack.” The rest of the Loadbearers look a bit shocked, as that had not been the plan when they had looked to pass through this Caren and continue on.
As the next few days would tell, the Eldest of the Caren agreed with Lightbringer and urged Marks-The-Prey to go with them. The Eldest wanted Marks-The-Prey to have some goal even if it was vampire slaying for now.
Marks-The-Prey told his story to Lightbringer alone. He shared the event since his Rite of Passage. Lightbringer surmised that the scale he now held must have come from Marks-The-Prey, but the scale seemed bound to Lightbringer now and he chose not to bring it up. As the two of them spoke, Marks-The-Prey asked what Lightbringer knew of the Black Spiral Dancers. Lightbringer simply replied. “We will do our best to help you get your brother back. You are a Loadbearer now, and your burden simply adds to the many we already posses. We have a long journey ahead of us, will you be our eyes, our ears, and our guide?” Lightbringer asked.
Marks-The-Prey thought for a moment and looked up at Lightbringer. He sniffed the Caren air about them and look very seriously into Lightbringers eyes and said flatly, “There are no vampires here, we should look elsewhere.”
The Dream
“Please, sit. Let the tale I speak fill your ears, let it dance in your minds, and pace your hearts.” The campfire had died out and darkened silhouettes could be roughly seen around the glowing embers. The voice that spoke was one of age. In the pale orange hue of the dying embers all the listeners could make out of the Matron was her sightless eye. Her wrinkled skin hung loosely, her fur matted and thin. She spoke with the two-leg tongue despite her lupus snout.
“I have words to share of a night that I once shared with my ancestors, a night that has come and gone.”
“As you all know fair Luna, hides her face once each cycle. She prepares to share her light, and fill our kind with hope, and fighting spirit. But even in her moments of reflection she gives us gifts. It was on this new moon that a pair of questioners were birthed.” The Matron’s voice wheezed for a moment. Her age prevented her from reliving her long-winded days as a cub. After a moment she continued.
“On this new moon, Brother Wind was particularly upset. By what right I do not know. Brother Wind let out cries and howls, screams and sighs, and tussled with the trees and any creature not secured to the Earth. It was on this night that a mother panted heavily. Her pack was nervous at the fury of Brother Wind and the difficultly she was having with her pups. The first two pups had emerged still as the Earth and without breath. The pack and mother feared that they would be without new blood this spring.”
A few of the listeners stirred, one took in breath as if they might ask a question. The Matron paused and the listeners settled and she went on.
“As the pack lost hope and prepared to move without the mother, a sharp tiny yip erupted from near the mother. A tiny ball of fur and fluids was curled up tightly near its mother but breathing and moving it was. Shortly after a second pup emerged and bore identical markings to the first. The mother licked the pair clean and closed her eyes to rest. The Pack raised their voices and called out with Brother Wind letting him carry their joy out into his tempest. Born a pair of twins were.”
A young man shifted his position and disturbed the remains of the fire and sent ash and embers twirling into the night sky. As the Matron looked to him and he suddenly asked, “So are we to take that wolves have it hard or something? I mean I think it is kind of cool that they can still find places to live but I don’t understand what a couple of pups are so important.”
The circle grew quiet at he finished his statement. The Matron’s sightless eye seemed to weigh down on the young cub. Color rose in his cheeks and he began to feel foolish and upset that no one was responding. As he appeared as if he might began to speak again the Matron rebuked. “You fail to see the meaning because you failed to be patient. If you ask the Sky where it ends and the Earth begins you will be confused by its reply as well.” The cub felt the sting of her gruff words and slouched slightly, bowing his head.
The Crimson Creek
A low noise could be heard from the Matron as a slight wind picked up. “If you are having trouble following the story observe the embers and watch as your eyes will.” The wind began to twirl the embers and ash of the fire till they looked as if they were a moving picture of the story the Matron intoned.
“The pups grew to cubs, and cubs to juveniles as do all young wolves. The young twins and the pack were unaware of the differences they possessed. Of the pair the older of the two grew quickly and with much strength. Calls-The-Night, as he became know, was a good fighter, and could almost enchant prey with his howls. The youngest of the pair deferred to his elder and as it was becoming apparent, a potential pack alpha. Marks-The-Prey developed his ability to hunt and track beyond the merit of even the most-established hunters. The twins were close. They played together, they fought together, and they hunted together. As the two-legs call it, they loved each other.”
The audience began to show concern. They watched the event play out in the dancing embers as if they were present for each event. The embers had captivated them and all they could do is hold their breath between each pause in complete rapture of the tale.
Matron continued, “As the young pair came to their maturity, after two springs, the wind they ushered them into this world returned. Brother Wind was in a distasteful mood. He tore at the trees, agitated Brother River, and challenged Grandfather Thunder high in the sky. The pack hunted swiftly hoping to catch their prey and find shelter to wait out the tantrum. As they neared the catch, a rather proud looking elk, Calls-The-Night went in for the kill and lost his footing. Caught by the wind he stumbled and was tossed into a shallow creek. The pack stopped and looked on with amused eyes. A wolf who had recently joined early in the spring and who was nearing maturity himself took the opportunity to challenge Calls-The-Night in the terrible weather. Making a point to blame Calls-The-Night for the loss of their prey. Enraged by the poorly timed challenge and the embarrassment of the circumstance, Calls-The-Night felt his body swell. Luna’s face turned, unable to watch the events of her children. Calls-The-Night rose from the creek standing on his hind legs. His chest barreled like a two-legs and claws and fangs sprang forth to lay low his challenger. It only took a moment before the ambitious wolf lay in ribbons. The pack paralyzed with fear did not comprehend what to do. Calls-The-Night could not contain himself he leapt from pack mate to pack mate clawing and biting at them. One of the first to fall was their mother. At the sight of this Marks-The-Prey was overwhelmed by fury at his brother’s actions and rose in size. He retained his four-legged composure but dwarfed his pack mates. Mark-The-Prey and Calls-The-Night fought back and forth. With every loss of ground on the part of Marks-The-Prey, another pack mate fell to his brother’s claws. As the creek ran crimson with the lifeblood of all they knew the brothers collapsed. They returned to simple wolves, marred by the wounds they gave each other they lost sight and slept.”
A few of the listeners were shaking slightly. They were crying, some with tears of rage, others with tears and hearts of sorrow.
Loss of the Alpha, Fall of the Hunter
Matron Lydia observed the eyes of those that watched her. The sparkle of tears was drying but their hunger for the story could be seen pouring from them. The fire once again began to twirl images of the Matron’s words and their attention fixed to the embers anew.
“The brothers awoke to a new world. They shook their sore bodies and looked about them. They could see no sign of their pack. They had both vague memories of the previous night. They expected to see their pack mate’s bodies littering the creek and its immediate area. The only clue the confirmed their recollection of the night previous was the stained red Earth about them, the smell of blood in the air, and the seemingly complete lack of wildlife in the vicinity. As they looked to each other and thoughts came to mind of challenging one another, a wolf appeared from nowhere. He looked as if he had simple stepped from a cut of air and landed between them. The strange wolf introduced himself as Humbles-The-Two-Legs. The pair was confused. The stranger went on to announce that he was a Garou and so were the brothers. As the explanations were given and instruction started the pair began their journey as Gaia’s warriors. Humbles-The-Two-Legs went on as their mentor and told them that they were a rare pair. They were descended of a tribe of Garou known as the Uktena. They were an ancient bloodline of tied to the founder and were some of the last remaining pureblooded kin of a figure known as Older Brother. Humbles-The-Two-Legs conveyed he was of a Tribe called the Red Talons. He was born under the Full Moon and was a mighty warrior. As the pair learned of the Garou ways and heard the history of their tribe and the state of the world they found that there was much hatred for the Two-Legs and for those known as Wyrmcomers. Those born on two legs and those of the tribes Shadow Lord, Fianna, and Silver Fang were to be dealt with warily. The brothers set the tragedy of their pack behind them and worked hard to master the new nature they knew. After one moon cycle the brother were brought to begin their Rite of Passage, their culmination and initiation into their tribe. As the Sept of the Craggy Woods called out those present, the challenge given to the pair was to locate one of the Great Uktena’s scales. The brothers accepted and raced off in search of the treasure. They searched the rivers, climbed the mountains, and combed the caves all the while looking for signs of the Great Uktena. As the third day of their search was coming to a close Marks-The-Prey stumbled upon an unfamiliar scent and followed its trail. The brothers found themselves atop one side of a great ravine. On the opposite side sat a man with wild hair and a dark look in his eye. Calls-The-Night challenged his presence and demanded to know his business.
“A bright sun to the pair of you.” The man called out. His presence set off every nervous worry in Marks-The-Prey’s body. Marks-The-Prey felt that after his first change that he was the undisputed top of the food chain. But this two-legs made him feel like the weakest, slowest, and most terrified creature of prey. The man wasn’t even standing or bearing fang. He wasn’t aggressive; something about him was just pure wrong!
Marks-The-Prey tried to urge Calls-The-Night to leave with him. He tried to convey his feeling to his less “primal” older brother. Calls-The-Night ignored Marks-The-Prey and challenged the two-legs again. “Who are you? And what business do you have on this land?” Calls-The-Night barked, much less kindly then before.
The man replied again, “I have what you are looking for young ones. If you want what you seek you need but follow me. I can show you through your quest and ensure you find more power and strength then you could possibly imagine.”
Calls-The-Night waited for a moment, as if giving the two-legs a chance to continue. All the while Marks-The-Prey whined quietly, just loud enough so that only Calls-The-Night could hear his distress.
The man went on, “If the pair of you would simply leap this chasm I can lead you to a place of power where all items and quests eventually end. I can show you the path to let you rise and pass all those you stand before you. No need to wait in line, patiently scraping for praise from your elders and alphas. You can be THE alpha today. Just jump on over here.” The way he said his last statement sent a shiver up Marks-The-Prey’s spine. There was power in his voice and even Marks-The-Prey considered jumping over there. It seemed like it was a reasonable enough request. Then he came back to his senses and barked loudly and forcefully at Calls-The-Night. The glazed look in his brother’s eyes vanished and he turned to look both confused and angry at Marks-The-Prey.
“WHAT!?” Barked Calls-The-Night to his younger brother. “We need to go, older brother. This is bad; we must not go with him. He is wrong. Very wrong.” Marks-The-Prey pleaded with his brother.
“Your lack of drive is what makes you never capable of being alpha, you don’t have the vision to do what needs to be done.” Calls-The-Night said to his brother with disdain. Marks-The-Prey could not once recall his older brother being cruel to him. He could not remember a moment when he was unfair as alpha, and could not imagine him saying something like that. Calls-The-Night turned to walk towards the chasm, intending to leap to the other side. The two-legs smiled mirthlessly and stood, waiting patiently for the jump.
Without thinking Marks-The-Prey leapt forward and in a blind attempt bit at his brother. He tried to bite his legs, hoping his brother would be unable to make the jump should he be wounded. Calls-The-Night always the combatant stepped lightly out of the way and turned to face his brother. Marks-The-Prey found and opening and bit down hard on the low of his brother’s back, tasting blood and hopefully success at his goal.
Suddenly Marks-The-Prey felt a great pain on the back of his neck. He new the feeling, but there was much more forced and malice in this pain. Calls-The-Night had bit down hard on the back of his neck, looking to paralyze and release himself from his brother’s jaws.
Marks-The-Prey yelped and released his brother, slumping to the ground. His brother shook him violently, and Marks-The-Prey could no long feel his paws, his chest, or his tail for that matter. He lay unmoving. Calls-The-Night released his brother and took a few steps back and leapt across the chasm. He landed almost a little short and had to scrabble over and up the edge of the ravine. He limped a bit on the other side, the wound on his back affecting more than he would like to show.
Marks-The-Prey watched as two tall figures walked out from the trees. It was a pair of Garou in their war form. They deferred to the two-legs and the four of them began to walk away.
Marks-The-Prey could do nothing for his brother. As the evening moved towards the night, he could feel his life-blood failing. He could not remain awake. Marks-The-Prey drifted off to become one with Gaia once again.
Gaia’s Grace
“YOU’RE TELLING IT WRONG! GO BACK AND CHANGE THE ENDING!” The young one who had interrupted the Matron previously was now standing and shouting. There were tears in his eyes, and rage in his voice. As the Matron looked around the speaking circle she noticed rage and sadness in the faces on all of her listeners. The had looked as if one moment they might all leap up and tear her frail body apart, and the next be unable to breath anymore from the sheer weight of their depression.
“There is a lesson to his story young one.” The Matron said to the shouting Cub. “But first I must finish the tale.” She said tersely.
The cub looked as if the wind had just been knock from him. He slumped to the ground and his head lulled to the side and his eyes drifted over the again dancing embers.
Marks-The-Prey felt like he was having warm water poured over his cold body. He realized then that he could feel the warm sensation even down to the tip of his tail. His eyes flickered open and he could see that he was laying somewhere in the Caren heart. He felt his wounds sealing and strong blood once again flowing through him. He started to sit up and collapsed. A gentle hand rested on his side and asked him to remain down. Marks-The-Prey looked up into a face he had not met before. The Elder of the Caren asked what had happened and Marks-The-Prey told the pair the tale. As he finished he asked what had happened since his sleep. The older woman responded, “We had spirits watching the two of you and when we heard what had happened we raced to you two only to find you laying in your blood and your brother…” She trailed off biting her lower lip.
Marks-The-Prey hung his head and then let out a low noise till it rose and rose in volume. A howl filled with such pain and sorrow that every Garou, wolf, and even human who heard it stopped for a moment felt as if their breath had ceased. As the howl faded Marks-The-Prey coughed and a bloody piece of something landed on the ground before him. The older woman took some water and poured it over the object. As the blood washed away the older woman and the elder took in s sharp breath. They had seen something like this before. It was a Scale of the Great Uktena. The very object they had sent the brothers in search of. They had, of course, expected the brothers to return empty handed and for a lesson and understanding to be had at their efforts. But this was something neither could have imagined. The Elder spoke after a moment. “Even though you started as two, you alone Marks-The-Prey have come back with the object of your Rite of Passage. I now name you Marks-The-Prey, Calith of Uktena, Lupus born of the New Moon. You are now a member of the Garou Nation and a champion of Gaia. Use your prize and fight for what is right.”
The Elder and the older woman congratulated him and sent him to meet with his peers. Marks-The-Prey spent the next few weeks in quiet and sullen reflection. The other Calith tried to learn more about him but his sorrowful eyes and bland replies ended that, until he sat day in day out, very alone. The Elders seemed concerned that he might fall to Horano. But could do nothing to cheer him.
At one point while out on patrol, Guardianship was the latest idea by the Eldest to try and shake Marks-The-Prey out of his sorrow, he was sitting by a river and examining the Uktena Scale he now possessed.
Marks-The-Prey began to speak as if in a conversation, but there was no one around to hear him. “I thank you for your gift. I am so very honored that might provide a part of yourself so that I might be strong and wise as you. But I am too weak to help you or the other Garou. I could not even stop my brother from leaving me. All I know now is that he is known as Calls-The-Spinning-Night. He has danced the spiral and many claim one can not return from such a path. I do not believe them, but the wisdom your scale provides me has left me without thought or plan on how to remedy such an aliment. I wish to return your gift, perhaps in time I might be once again be worthy. Perhaps when I am nearing my brother your wisdom will then enlighten me to what I need to do.”
Marks-The-Prey stood and cast the Scale gently into the river, returning it to the Great Uktena.
Lightbringer and the Loadbearers
The enormous man sat by the river his feet floating as the river tugged gently. His pack sat behind him. Brings-The-O and Carries-The-Burden were having another spat over Natalia. Vicious Victory was adding adornments to his horn. Lightbringer was sitting in reflection, keeping his rage in check when he noticed a shimmer in the river. He waded over to the glint and reached in. As he stood to his full height Lightbringer was at a loss of words. He held a fabled Scale from the Great Uktena. Such a treasure, one does not find without reason. He examined it for a moment and then felt a wave of purpose. Lightbringer felt a strong need to go up the river.
“We are moving. Let’s go.” The sound of Lightbringer’s voice ceased the fighting and the pack quickly gathered their belongings and began walking up the shore.
An hour or so up the river the Pack found themselves watching a wolf sitting by the side of the river in quiet reflection.
Lightbringer stepped out from the brush and the wolf looked at him. The wolf stood slowly and said in a flat emotionless tone, “I challenge your presence, who are you and what business do you have here?”
Lightbringer felt the scale in his shirt and knew that this was what he had been sent to find. “I am Lightbringer, Alpah of the pack Loadbearers. I have come to seek your acceptance into our pack.” The rest of the Loadbearers look a bit shocked, as that had not been the plan when they had looked to pass through this Caren and continue on.
As the next few days would tell, the Eldest of the Caren agreed with Lightbringer and urged Marks-The-Prey to go with them. The Eldest wanted Marks-The-Prey to have some goal even if it was vampire slaying for now.
Marks-The-Prey told his story to Lightbringer alone. He shared the event since his Rite of Passage. Lightbringer surmised that the scale he now held must have come from Marks-The-Prey, but the scale seemed bound to Lightbringer now and he chose not to bring it up. As the two of them spoke, Marks-The-Prey asked what Lightbringer knew of the Black Spiral Dancers. Lightbringer simply replied. “We will do our best to help you get your brother back. You are a Loadbearer now, and your burden simply adds to the many we already posses. We have a long journey ahead of us, will you be our eyes, our ears, and our guide?” Lightbringer asked.
Marks-The-Prey thought for a moment and looked up at Lightbringer. He sniffed the Caren air about them and look very seriously into Lightbringers eyes and said flatly, “There are no vampires here, we should look elsewhere.”