By Example

The war council was over, and everyone moved off to their assigned tasks. Rends the Gar hung back, watching the others jump into motion. He did his best to hide it, but he couldn't help but feel nervous. This was not only their chance to purge Houston and give the White Ash the fresh start the desperately needed, but the Prodigles' first chance to show they were more than wild cards and independent operators.

It all loomed in front of him, and though he spoke with confidence at the council he had to admit to himself that the job may be bigger than they could handle here. They had so few Garou, almost no information, and one night to deliver as severe a blow to their enemies as they could. And it all fell on the Prodigals to deliver a win for Rawest Wind.

If I jest had one pack of Fenrir here... Damn Robert Swiftdeath and his pointless war!

He shook his head, chasing away the pessimistic thoughts. He'd never been one to dwell on what he wanted, he worked with what he had. His eyes came to a stop on the awakened king, and he came to a decision. His pack may be the ones spearheading the assault, but he had to make sure everyone was ready.

Rends held back as the others cleared out, waiting for a moment alone with Rawest Wind. Finishing his conversation with Hard Rain, the Silver Fang waved Rends forward after catching his eye.

"You wish a word, Rends-the-Gar?"

Rends stepped forward, nodding in deference.

"I did, yer majesty. I won't take up much of your time. We've got a good plan, and I reckon we got real good odds of making this work. But well, see, we uh..."

Words seemed to fail him as he searched for a diplomatic way to say what needed to be said. He huffed a sigh, then threw caution to the wind.

"Look yer majesty, I gotta be honest and I ain't good at words so I'll jest spit it out. I'm honored you chose my pack to plan this whole attack, but you's made it plain you plan on bein' there at the front with us leadin the attack. That's as it should be; this place has gone far too long without any real leadership and that's what we got kings fer anyhow. But you've been... out of commission for a long time."

Rends couldn't help but glance at the king's still emaciated and drawn features.

"I don't know exactly how long it's been since you been to war, but I know it's been a while. We's already helpin' with the rest of the preparations, but I wanted to offer you my help personally. If you need someone to spar with or jogg yer fightin' memory I's available any time you need me."

The gaunt Silver Fang sighed, long claws gripping the sides of his ash-root throne. "Your concerns are not without merit. My rage still burns hot- it has been denied long enough, Gaia knows, but alone that is not enough; Not if I desire to be the king the Garou Nation needs."

"I have been trained in the martial traditions of my tribe, but the languorous time spent wasting away here has done my aging body no favors. I do not have to regain my true strength in the time allotted to us before our assault."

Hard-Rain, bristling fur the color of tar beneath the moon, circled into view. Rends the Gar was not terribly familiar with the Lupus' language, but the pride in the Shadow Lord's stance was unmistakable.

"Fraxinus the Unbending, the eponymous White Ash of our sept, has agreed to lend me his strength, hopefully for the last time." Rawest-Wind looked up at the towering giant that lorded over the Caern's heart, grim admiration in his voice. "He sustained me through the darkest years of my life, giving me succor when I would have denied it, if I could." The King gave the Ahroun a toothsome smile. "When Houston is to be purged of its evil, the Ancient and I will fight as one. I promise you, his title is not an empty honorific. We will not not bend, nor break."