Post by Wyatt Harper on Jul 1, 2012 19:46:04 GMT -8
Seattle's a hell of a town.
Warmer, at least, than Denver. Wetter too. Doesn't matter if I'm a dog or a man, that moisture sticks to my coat - be it fur or cloth - and leaves me stinking. Three months ago, I would've been just another tent in Pioneer Square, just another blank face in line at a kitchen, just another day laborer outside a big-box home improvement store.
But that was before the change. Jiminy Cricket, the leader of what I now know as a Sept, grabbed me before I could do too much damage, beat me down, gave me a quick primer on this Garou thing, and then put me to work. Jiminy is old, I'm young. Jiminy and the other four Bone Gnawers gave me something like a home, and something like a family. That was the second 'first' for me that month.
Then they put me on a bus and sent me to Seattle, something about helping fight the Wyrm by recovering a document they could use against a giant megacorp I never even heard of. They said I had to become a Cleath, start giving back. With all they've done for me, I couldn't say no. Hell, I wanted to give something back.
On the way, the bus stopped for snacks. I watched the rich people who could afford it buy rest-stop candy from a machine, Merle Haggard CD's for their discmans. Meanwhile I felt like I hit the jackpot when I found a whole, still-wrapped hamburger in the dumpster in the back. That was the first time that I saw that little Coyote pup, whimpering, looking cold and shaggier than I was. How could I say no? I shared the burger with him. Echo of the Falcon's Scream has since told me that little scrappy pup that's been following me around is more than it seems.
Funny thing about being poor. When you don't have a job, you have a lot more time to pursue other avenues of interest. Me, I always loved puzzles. I learned computers at the library, how to take them apart, how to cobble them together from old parts most people throw out. I learned how to be completely invisible, either through hiding in shadows or simply hiding in plain sight with a sign that says "Anything Helps. God Bless." There's no surer way to avoid eye contact than that.
Actually getting the file Jiminy needed was surprisingly easy. I couldn't go in the front door; the datacenter was in a glass and steel building designed to make people who look like me not even want to go in it. But I'm a pretty clever guy. I took a job washing dishes at the bar across the street from the building, where $5,000 suit guys spend their time after work with top-shelf liquor and talking louder and louder as they 'unwind.'
Once I heard enough to figure out the general area of interest the file was associated with, I called in to the department head, explaining that I was a federal agent type coming in for a best practices audit, and I waited. The shredded documents showed up in their dumpster that night. A little scotch tape and a lot of patience and I'm sending photocopied versions back home to Denver. I got a call on my burner, I was a Cleath now, which along with 79¢ will get you a cup of coffee.
I was about to head out to the highway, thumb out, on my way home when I smelled something. It wasn't exactly like what Jiminy and my Sept smelled like, but it was similar. Up till now, I had assumed all Garou were Bone Gnawers. Jiminy had mentioned other tribes, but I assumed that was what the Garou were called in other cities. This, though, this was a crazy melange of smells, carrying on the wind from the forest. I ran, I ran until I was out of sight and shifted to my canine form and ran more, and faster. Once I was in my animal shape, I could smell the mix of dozens of those like me, and within an hour I was at the gates of a Cairn. Rainsinger and Marks-the-Prey greeted me, and after assuring themselves I was no threat (Honestly, me a threat?) I was greeted as something less than an equal, but more than I was accustomed to.
Customs are different here. People are different here. They don't concern themselves with the sort of things I've concerned myself with for the last 25 years. I wouldn't say I'm making friends, but I am certainly learning quite a bit about this war the Garou have set themselves on.
I hope they keep finding use for just a bunch of Scraps.