"The only implications in my words are those you choose to see."

Burial Mounds(#3207RJ$)
This wide clearing in the midst of short, dark pines is rough with wild grass and bare stone. The air is a bit cooler up here in the foothills than below, and the majestic peaks of the nearby mountains rear up over the eastern treetops. There is a vine-covered boulder standing under the edge of the somber evergreens to the east. The air here is prenaturally still and the grass waves not at all for there is no breeze that blows through the pines. It is silent, no call of bird thrown from the treetops to dance gaily in the open spaces. Occasionally chill fingers run up your spine.
There are +views here.
A faint path leading downhill to the west is the only exit from the clearing.

Small ceramic bowls with pungent herbs burn around the body of the fallen Silver Fang, warding off flies and making the worst of the smell. Vera is seated a small distance away and reading a book, not paying much attention to anything else at the moment.

Treading quietly as befits this place of the fallen heroes, Kevin comes slowly walking through the woods and towards the place where one garou sits guarding another's body.

Vera looks up from her book, slipping a book mark into place as she does so. "Hello."

Kevin looks at Clemency's lifeless body, and then back to Vera. "I heard," he says sadly. "I thought I'd come out and make sure it was true."

The body itself is surprisingly clean and any visible wounds have been carefully stitched closed. "Death claims us all eventually, Ahrouns more quickly then most," Vera states evenly, setting her book down on the ground beside her.

"By that argument, we ragabash should have the longest lifespans of all," Kevin points out. He seats himself, careful to ensure that the tussock he sits on is a mere swelling of earth and not the grave of some hero or heroine. "Were you there?" he asks. "I heard from Dillen and Grey, but neither of them was."

"I was. I carried her back here," Vera replies easily. "Why do you ask?"

"I suppose," Kevin drawls slowly, "I was curious to know what could kill someone like Clemency. It seemed to be a general opinion that she was one of the top two or three cliaths in the sept when it came to a scrap."

Vera says "There were four or five of them, but only one Clemency and a Fostern Ragabash to aid her."

"'Them', I assume, being the Dancers." Kevin pulls a face of distaste. "Still never looked one of those in the eye. I almost feel sorry to have been in the city when this fight went down. Almost," he repeats looking at Clemency's corpse once more, "but not quite."

"Would you run from them instead, tail tucked between your legs?" Vera asks, a touch of impatience entering her voice.

"No," Kevin says in carefully measured tones. "No, I like to think I would not. Any more than I intend to do so when the time comes to serve at the tire fire, as has been ordered. With respect, Vera-rhya, I find the implications in your question uncalled for."

"The only implications, are the ones you choose to see," Vera responds easily. "You are the one who implied having no desire to fight them. But perhaps, I am viewing the implications in in your words incorrectly."

Kevin frowns at Vera for a moment and seems about to make an angry retort, but then he laughs instead. "Vera-rhya," he says, "I bow to you. Your control of words is something I can only aspire to feebly, great ragabash. But truly and seriously," he goes on, "I am not a coward. Ask anyone in this sept if they have ever known me flee from fighting the Wyrm or its creatures. You won't be able to find one."

Vera chuckles dryly. "I will accept your word for that. Is there anything I may help you with?" The Adren asks, brushing aside a fly that buzzes to close.

"I thought I should be asking you that," Kevin says. "They said at the farmhouse you'd been here pretty much since the weekend. Guarding, uh... her. Do you... need anything? Food? Supplies? A sleeping bag?" Kevin seems eager to please; perhaps a little too much so.

Vera's weathered face produces a few more wrinkles, as she peers at the young Walker. "I sleep in lupus, while Dillen and Laura have been relieving me often enough to eat. Although, I thank you for your offer."

Kevin nods, and is silent a few moments. Then he blurts out "Why?" and looks at Vera with a look midway between puzzled and angry. "Why're you sitting shiva for her like this? If you were packmates or something I'd understand... but your tribe hates hers. Everyone says so."

"Because I am Alpha of this Sept," Vera states, flatly. "I am responsible for all of you, in life and in death. I don't care if you don't like me, or even if you hate me, I know my duties and I intend to fulfill them."

Kevin falls silent again before responding, eventually, with "Good answer." He fidgets round to face Vera. "Either you truly believe that, or you can say it in an impassioned enough way that it sounds like you do. Either way, you rock, Vera-rhya."

"I have seen too many packmates and good Garou fall around me to think otherwise," Vera continues, tone darkening some. "I will not see any more fall then is unavoidable and I will always honor those that do."

"And if I die at the tire fire, as seems entirely likely," Kevin goes on, in a jaunty air that belies the sombre subject of his words, "will you honor me? Or will it be a matter of, thank goodness that nasty charach's dead, let's dump his corpse in the river and forget about him?"

Vera snorts. "You've been punished. I will honor all who die a good death. All stand a chance of being redeemed, if their crime is not so great that they are put to the death."

Kevin digests that with a thoughtful look. "Okay," he says. "You've given me some answers and I'm grateful. If I do make it through the fire, who knows, I may yet amount to something. Will you be there at the battle, do you know, Vera-rhya?"

Vera leans back a little, watching the Walker for a moment. "I will be there." The Adren continues to study Kevin. "You were weak, in that you allowed your feelings for the Gnawer to take precedence over your common sense. You have learned what happens when you give in to weakness. Let me tell you of a Glass Walker Theurge by the name of Jason Speaks-With-Spiders. While your weakness lay in your lust, his lay in his pride."

Kevin sits forward with his chin in his hands and his elbows on his knees. He appears to be listening intently.

"While Jason Speaks-With-Spiders was able to pass his Rite of Passage, his skills were poor. He lacked the patience to deal with any of the more volatile spirits," Vera begins. "He hated that there were Cliath Theurge in the Sept that were far better at dealing with the spirits. For the most part, not many payed attention to him and in time, his skills seemed to improve. He created a number of Talens that proved very useful to the Sept and earned him great Wisdom."

Kevin nods approvingly, but otherwise keeps silent.

"He joined a pack and even started bucking for Fostern, by the time I made my Adren Challenge," Vera continues. "I challenged a Theurge of your Tribe and he laughed at me and set me a task he thought that I would never complete. Many Walker kinfolk, mostly female, had disappeared over the last year and no-one could figure out why. The Adren himself has been searching for answers for many months, but had found none. His weakness, was his unwillingness to look beyond the spirits for answers."

Kevin shakes his head sadly. "Tunnel vision is a sad thing," he says sanctimoniously.

Vera draws in a breath and continues. "I looked to the Sept and not its spirits for answers. With the aid of my packmates, I found what had happened to the kinfolk. Jason Speaks-With Spiders had been trading them to the Spirals in return for Talens and information that made him look good in the eyes of the Sept."

Kevin gives Vera a very reproachful look at that. "I hope you do not think for a second that such shameful deeds are in any way typical of Roach's followers," he protests.

"All but one of my old pack were of Roach's brood," Vera snaps in return, moon clearly weighing on her temper. "Do not assume to know my thoughts and beliefs."

"The only implications in my words," Kevin fires back with a triumphant grin, "are those you choose to see."

Vera's lips purse and the lines around her mouth eventually ease. "I am sensitive when it comes to my old pack," she admits.

"We are all sensitive in our own way, Vera-rhya," Kevin points out. "I don't know about you, but I've found that being a ragabash, half the skill of your auspice is finding out other people's sensitive points, and the other half is learning when it's safe to poke at them and when it's not."

"That is one point I would recommend not poking at all," Vera suggests. "I held them all in high regard and I still hold a great deal of respect for those that remain alive."

Kevin's eyes narrow a little, and he nods. "If you chose to pack with them, Vera-rhya, they must have well deserved their good reputation. What became of Jason Speaks-with-Spiders?"

Vera says "He was sentenced to Gaia's Vengeful Teeth. Those that had lost family members, were permitted to wield the silver-tipped whips."

Kevin's eyes remain narrow. "I don't believe I'm familiar with that punishment," he says, "and perhaps that's just as well. It sounds most unpleasant."

Vera's teeth flash in a savage grin. "The Rite turns the ground itself into blades of silver and the punished is forced to run across it until they fall, driven on by those holding the whips."

Kevin has been fairly obviously sitting beside a facade of composure and restraint through most of this encounter, but at Vera's latest words, it slips away completely and he looks completely sickened and, for a few moments, more like a child than a seventeen year old. "That... that's... horrific..."

"And what do you think happened to the kinfolk that were given to the Spirals?" Vera asks bluntly. "All because of Pride."

"Call it pride, call it sick," Kevin grates, "it's still vile. And what he did was vile too. It's all vile." He turns away from Vera angrily and finds himself confronted with the body of Clemency again, at which he hides his head in his hands.

Vera snorts softly. "You are looking at it with human eyes, not Garou."

"Yeah, well," Kevin grunts in his best passive-aggressive style, "maybe a little more of the human viewpoint wouldn't go amiss sometimes."

Vera quirks an eyebrow at the young Walker. "No. It is that attitude that sees our lupus numbers so low. But, you are a Glass Walker and far closer to your human half then most of the other Tribes."

Kevin's head comes out of his hands. "Any idea what I can do about this?" he asks. It's hard to tell whether he means the question seriously.

Vera's eyebrows come together. "I'm afraid that I do not gather your meaning."

"I'm looking at things with human eyes," Kevin clarifies. "I'm a Glass Walker, an urban wolf, and you think I need to look at things more like a Garou. Any tips?"

Vera sighs softly and falls silent for a moment. "We are not human... Yet some try to hold up human morals. Morals that change with every different community, every different group of humans. Wolves hunt the old, the young, and the weak. Humans look at such things with distain and go after the strong instead. The want everything to be 'humane', but that is not Gaia's way. Gaia is not a gentle mistress, but she is our Goddess. If the world were in balance, it would not be the paradise that the human side of us would wish for."

"Maybe it wouldn't be," Kevin says, "but what would it be?" He looks at Vera with a surprisingly keen, bright-eyed look.

Vera leans back and closes her eyes. "There would be balance. There would be life, but a life that was always changing. Species would come and go, Gaia would shift and the ground would shake. No more unchanging cities, no more infestations of the Wyrm. The Wyld would bring constant change, the weaver would give that chaos form, and the Wyrm would break everything down again, so the process could start over once again."

For the second time in only minutes, Kevin looks slightly wide-eyed at Vera, and gives the impression of seeming younger than his years. "Yeah," he says slightly awkwardly, "yeah, that'd rock, all right. Shame about the cities but I guess we wouldn't miss them if everything else was like so... I wish there was a way of getting there from here to this perfect world where the Wyrm knows its place and we all balance like a gyroscope." He sneaks another quick look at Clemency's body. "Too late for some of us though."

Vera glances over at the Fang's body. "We are losing this war, Kevin. In time, we will all fall. That is why we fight and fiercely as we do. The harder we fight, the longer Gaia survives."

"I know we're damn well losing," Kevin says with a spot of irritation. "Doesn't take an Adren to make me realise that, Vera-rhya."

Morgan slips into the area without any fanfare. In fact, about the only thing visible is her mop of red hair, as she's hunched down about as far into her old, oversized coat as she can get and still see. What's visible of her features is the usual blank expression, with the faint strain one might expect given the size of the moon.

"And what makes you think my words deserve such a volatile response?" Vera asks, still looking over at Clemency. "Hello Morgan."

"It's one thing to say we're losing the war," Kevin points out, "another matter entirely to come up with a strategy that wins it instead... Oh, hiya, Morgan."

Morgan regards first Vera, and then Kevin--though in her case, 'regards' pretty much means she glances toward their chests and looks away rather quickly. "Hello," she replies. The greeting is stiff, and rather dull in tone. There's no enthusiasm there. "Vera-rhya, Kevin."

"And we always fight as fiercely as we do," Vera repeats without looking at the Walker. "Is there anything I can help you with, Morgan?"

Kevin just nods in reply to Vera, and looks expectantly at Morgan.

Morgan shakes her head several times in succession, now avoiding looking at any of them. "No," she adds, unnecessarily.

Vera sighs and rises, dusting the grass from her pants. "May I ask you two to watch over Clemency for a time?"

"See," Kevin can't resist saying, "there is something I can do for you. Of course I will, Vera-rhya."

Morgan nods this time. It's a jerky, almost-but-not-quite-natural motion.

"My thanks," Vera states politely and begins to make her way out of the clearing.

Kevin gives Morgan a tight smile as Vera heads off. "Hello, packie," he says to the metis.

"Hello," Morgan repeats, and to her credit, this time it's a little less stiff. She lifts her gaze to Kevin, settling it about chin level.

Kevin nods to Clemency's body. "You... liked her, didn't you?" he says in firmly emotionless tones to Morgan.

Morgan's eyes start to slide toward the fallen Fang, but she stops herself before she actually looks at her. The metis' jaw tightens a little. "...She good," is the mumbled reply.

"Mmm. Yeah, I guess she was," Kevin says. "Anyone who can take on a row of Black Spirals without flinching, one after another bang-bang-bang, must have guts." Unlike Bug he doesn't keep his eyes off Clemency: he looks at her body, and raises his hand in a quiet salute. "Respect."

Morgan bites rather suddenly and sharply at the knuckles of her left hand, and looks at Kevin more intently, jaw working. "Kaz-rhya tell you then? I want join?" She pauses for a moment, and then, "Is okay?"

Kevin pauses, and speaks in the slow way he has which usually means he's choosing his words carefully. "As Vera was just lecturing me, we are garou. Part wolves, and like wolves, we belong in a pack. So yeah, it's okay to want in. But it's not me who gets to give you the nod, not even Basil. It's Patches."

Morgan bites her knuckles again, slowly this time, almost ponderously. "Yes," she replies, her speed matching Kevin's. "That not what I ask though. I ask...is okay. You."

Kevin's head swings up and he looks at Morgan, quite deliberately raking her with his gaze. "Right now," he says coldly, "I'll pack with anyone who'll take me."

Morgan's face goes a rather dark shade about her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. The knuckle of her thumb is bitten extra hard. "Oh." Her voice has returned to it's previous dullness. "Okay."

Kevin doesn't speak again. He sits there gazing into nothingness over the body of the dead Silver Fang, lost in thought.

Morgan finally looks toward Clemency. She looks for a long time...a long time, but she doesn't say anything either. And then, without a word, she turns and makes her way back the way she came, huddling down in her coat.