Post by Athena Fire-in-Snow on Jan 23, 2014 7:44:10 GMT -8
It is just past noon when a most unusual parade starts out of Layla’s old hobbit hole in the Caern, headed northwest. A fancy palanquin is in the lead, being carried by Eats the Shoe and Jonathan Stone-Elk; lounging lazily upon it is Fluffy, Destroyer of Worlds. He pretends to doze, but he is enjoying the picture he presents too much to actually do so; he gazes out upon the passing terrain from half-lidded eyes, watching the faces of those watching him with feline satisfaction. Following behind, trotting in Lupus, is White Devil Dark Wolf. He carries a large covered basket in his jaws, a basket that swings oddly out of sync with the wolf’s pace, as though being vigorously and randomly jostled from within. From time to time, an errant paw or nose pushes up the lid, but a sharp head snap bounces the restless pup back into place. Pacing behind him in Crinos is Athena, carrying a large covered firepit by its ornate stone handles with great and solemn care. Bringing up the tail of the procession are Michael White-Bear and Albert Disorrono, also in Crinos, bearing a rather larger sort of palanquin between them. It is a large furnace of brick and banded metal, borne on steel posts; a cackling Calcifer burns merrily within, enjoying the spectacle he makes. Surrounding them all, in both the Umbra and the real world, are a virtual phalanx of animal spirits of all sorts. A parliament of owls paces them in the sky, sprinkled through with dozens of other bird species; on the ground, an insane gathering of native wildlife, from squirrels to bears, travels alongside. Other spirits can also be spotted from time to time amongst them, mostly elementals and assorted Tribal spirits; those who pay attention to such thing notice that the attending horde are all local spirits. The more powerful have Materialized and are acting as perimeter guards in the real world; the rest attend in the Umbra.
The procession wends across the Caern, up the side of the mountain that flanks it to the northwest, and over the tip. Those who follow notice that starting just outside the Bawn and descending in a wedge down the outside of the mountain are territorial markers of the lupine sort; a strong mix of scents that define a sharp and fresh border, the mingled musk of the Still Waters pack is unmistakable. Subtle glyphs can be found in the terrain, appearing as little more than random scratches to an unknowing eye; “Keep Out”, they say. And “Death to Trespassers”. As the pack passes into their new territory, the spirits halt and form a wall at the new borders, preventing any from following the pack as they descend carefully down the mountainside to Little Greider Lake below and their new home. They remain there for the better part of an hour; by the time they disperse, the Still Waters pack is nowhere to be seen.
The procession wends across the Caern, up the side of the mountain that flanks it to the northwest, and over the tip. Those who follow notice that starting just outside the Bawn and descending in a wedge down the outside of the mountain are territorial markers of the lupine sort; a strong mix of scents that define a sharp and fresh border, the mingled musk of the Still Waters pack is unmistakable. Subtle glyphs can be found in the terrain, appearing as little more than random scratches to an unknowing eye; “Keep Out”, they say. And “Death to Trespassers”. As the pack passes into their new territory, the spirits halt and form a wall at the new borders, preventing any from following the pack as they descend carefully down the mountainside to Little Greider Lake below and their new home. They remain there for the better part of an hour; by the time they disperse, the Still Waters pack is nowhere to be seen.