Hammer and Tongs

It was a strange feeling, having things go according to plan. Rends wasn't quite sure how he felt about it the morning after Nightclaw's dethroning. He had an odd feeling that someone was going to try and cut his throat out of spite, but all around the Caern seemed to be more alive and energetic than he'd seen it before.

After a quick breakfast of grits he set out to see what help he could lend to the preparations of Houston's purging or Nightclaw's execution, and to see if he could enlist some help on a task of his own. He found Brave in War as he was exiting the Fianna cabin, heading off to the Caern heart on some errand.

"Brave in War! Holt up a minute. I's got somethin' I'd like to shoot by you."

Rends jogged up to the older Ahroun, tipping his hat in greeting.

"Listen, I know you's busy and all but I was thinkin' maybe some of your boys would like to get their claws wet before we get started in Houston. We got a good lead on a couple hideouts fer the Weeping Moon Society; a bunch of witches my pack's been chasin' all across the Republic. We hit 'em hard in Houston, but they's gone to ground and I wanna hit 'em before they can catch their breath. Problem is they got two hideouts, and I only got one pack. Reckon you know someone what can help me out?"

He flashes a toothy, knowing grin.

"If Rawest-Wind agrees, me and mine would be happy to get our claws wet, though I admit I got little knowledge of these particular whores of the Wyrm." The barrel-shaped Garou grunted. "Still, I imagine they fall if you put your claws through their faces." The Fianna's scarred brow furrowed, and after struggling for a moment, he continued: "This ain't easy for me to say, Fenrir, but I put my faith in the wrong Garou. You and your coyotes made the right call in defying Nightclaw. That took guts."

Brave-in-War jerked his head back toward the road and the looming forest beyond.

"This sept owes you lot a debt of gratitude. If you say this Society needs destroying, I am willing to bet on your instincts proving true."

Rends shakes his head, waving off the later comments.

"We done our job. That's all. Coyote may not be a war totem, but he serves his purpose, and we work towards that end. I'm jest glad Night Claw's been brought to light and he's gettin' his dues. Thank Roarin' Jack, if you're lookin' fer someone to thank. If he hadn't wished it we may not have come here until weeks later. I only hope the rest of my Tribe can be brought back around..."

He shakes his head, refocusing his attention.

"But that ain't here or there. These witches; they's not much tougher than normal humans, but they got some nasty mind magic at their disposal. They can read minds, make you see what ain't there, and they got a bunch of Banes at their command that if you don't take 'em out fast get real tough and hit real hard. All that said, claws do seem to do the trick. I find rippin' em in half is especially effective."

Brave-in-War loosed a rumbling chuckle. "Wyrm-sorcery is an occupational hazard for a Warder. If they are frail of limb, their lives will be measured in heartbeats before my Fianna."

The veteran's features darkened into a concerned scowl. "Where do our enemies make their nest?"

"I can mark 'em on a map fer ya. I ain't decided which one my pack's going after yet, but I'm thinkin' we'll take the Western one and leave the Southern to you."

Rends gives him a measuring look.

"I don't want y'all underestimatin' 'em. We did and it nearly got all of us killed on our first meet. They look like young girls, but they's some of the most vile Wyrmshit we's come across. They's the ones who made them un-spirit bullets and the one in Houston nearly did the same to Zas. When you find 'em, don't waste any time; kill these widderslaint right away and kill anyone associated with 'em."