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 Faith to a Fenrir

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Rends the Gar

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Join date : 2013-08-29

PostSubject: Faith to a Fenrir   Sat 30 May 2015, 11:03

Luna shown down in flashes of distorted time on an impossible scene. Rends the Gar stood, exhausted and empty inside. He was tapped out of Rage, and his Gnosis had been drained away by the Engine. Tames the Weaver lived. He lived! And now with the Paradox Spirit at his side and another powerful Fetish moments away from being completed, he was stronger than ever. But his most powerful weapon still rang harsh and loud inside Rends the Gar.

You've already killed me once, boy. Take that for your justice... I have a different strength to offer... One you'll need to survive the Storm...

Rends looked down at his Dream Knife. It still dripped with Tames the Weavers' blood and fur. He had killed the bastard! He was the strong one! He had the blessing of Great Fenris...

Maybe he's right. I've avenged Ma and my brothers, ain't I? We have no other way of dealing with this Time Spirit. Maybe this is a sign. Maybe we do need his help...

He felt something falter inside. He fought back angry tears as he looked around himself. What he saw was not good. Zoe, Eaton and Mocks all lay in a stupor or idly twirling strands of grass in their fingers. They were in no condition to fight. Wasn't it his job as Alpha to make sure his pack died well? They hadn't even made it to the supposed Apocalypse. How would their deaths here bring glory and honor to them?

"Make your decision, boy. I've got places to be. Hell, I'll let you have this Fetish if you want."

Tames the Weaver kicked at the bound spirit, impatient.

Rends faltered.

"Maybe you do have some strength to offer..."

He locked eyes with Zas B'ul, the only other member of the pack left able to function. The Apache seemed to see something that gave him pause.

"I need you to trust me, Rends the Gar."

Then Zas ran away, heading out of the clearing and away like an arrow. Anger boiled up in Rends, but he pushed it down. He'd deal with the stupid Injun after this mess. Closing his eyes, Rends took a deep breath and raised up his knife. Speaking in ancient Norse, he slashed the knife down across his own palm to let the blood flow.

Great Fenris, my foe is strong. He is once-slain. Give me the strength to make him twice-slain and I will know your will and pursue him to the gates of Hell. Or give me the sign that my kin are satisfied and your will is done. I have the strength to follow you. Show me how to use it.

Opening his eyes, Rends looked down to see how the blood had fallen to the ground. It had splattered onto a flat stone in the image of a Garou rune...

Death

Just then a flood of fury rose up in his chest and boiled up into his head. Luna shone down on him now, full and bright and terrible in her anger. The red Eye of Fenris shone in her, casting the world in a crimson hue.

"You can't seriously be considering this!?"

Zoe rose behind him, shouldering  her rifle and giving Rends a wink.

"Rends, I'm ashamed of you. Don't you know it's my job to be morally flexible?"

Mocks the Night rose, readying his own weapons.

"Hey, I want a piece of this too! This bastard's gotta die!"

Leper Friend rose, rats boiling up out of the ground around him as he clattered his spoons.

At that moment Zas B'ul returned carrying one of the Garou pelts on the other end of the clearing. With a savage roar he threw the pelt at Tames the Weaver's feet.

"JUSTICE! JUSTICE FOR THE SLAIN!"

Rends the Gar smiled as he took up his weapons. A furious voice full of frost and steel spoke inside him as he gathered his strength.

"Strength lay in thy right hand, and honor in thy left. But ne're canst thou honor thy pack if thou should hold back they strength in their name. Know that there is no justice without blood, and surely thy kin deserve all the blood thou can squeeze from their betrayer. Take up thy right hand and thy left, and strike true, as the Hand of Tyr, and lay thy doubt aside. Let it not cloud thy judgement again, lest thou should fail. Now strike down thy foe and take thy birthright!

Roaring, Rends unfurled Ribcage and swung it in the air. Rage burned inside him, yearning for realease. And before him stood Tames the Weaver, suddenly apprehensive. Rends laughed loud and deep from his belly, marching forwards with his pack at his side.

"You could have done so much to help us, but you chose the way of the Wyrm. For your crimes against kin and Gaia, you will die screaming. I will lead the charge against the Wyrm, straight into Valhalla if it must be. But I will do it proudly as a Get of Fenris above reproach with my pack at my side and my heart proud."

Howling the charge, Rends dove into battle with peace of mind. His pack fought beside him, his foe was strong, and his claws were wet with lifeblood. The world was right again.
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