From Ashes We Rise

Still in his homid form from his earlier conversation with the prodigals, Feasts-on-Ashes surveyed to gathered around before him. His eyes picking out each movement and detail as the pack interacted with one another.

His focus comes to rest on the one known as Leper Friend. He makes his way to approach as the others seem to split off to prepare for the evening.

As Vin nears, the seemingly content pack Beta reaches into a pouch he carried with him and withdrew a single leather-bound tome and made to open it flipping through a few pages.  

The Fenrir ahroun angled his head as he attempted to look at the work, but shook his head when he realized the cover was not written in either runes or that of the wolf tongue, but rather the writings were those of the apes.

It was beyond him.

He took a knee near the one who identified himself as Leper-friend and addressed him, gesturing with his nose despite retaining his homid form.

"I do not understand." He stated bluntly.

Vin turns to look at Eaton and says, "I was told your tribe were not fighters...that this is why you chose to live in the scabs. You had given up."

"You are pack beta now...which makes either the pack weak or means you are strong." He ponders for a moment his lips curling into a brief snarl, "Or maybe, I was told wrong."

Feasts-on-Ashes rose to sit on his haunches, bracing his form on his knuckles and looks to Leper friend with a surveying glance, "Which is it I ask?"

He pauses before then looking back down to the work Eaton held in his hands, "Does this help fight the wyrm in some way? The words-I do not understand."

Eaton gave an unsure look at the Arhoun- he felt like he been asked 5 different questions at once. He closed his book and decided to address the Lupis in the order he had brought up his observations. He gave a sly smile and replied, "Ah, someone who only knows of the Gnawer's through hear-say. Ya know, I thought the Rat's teeth who actually pull their weight would be the ones people know about. Instead, the loafers are the ones other Garou bring up."

His tone turned tense as he said, "No, we ain't all like lyin' in gutters drinkin' are sorrows away. Plenty of Garou joined rat 'cause they had nowhere else to go and he was willin' to outstretch a hand. I count myself as one of them- not 'cause I get to slack off. I am counted among Rat's Teeth, the finest and greatest warriors of my tribe. I'll be more than happy to demonstrate in the comin' days what happens when someone stupid enough crosses me. "

He paused to intake, "As for how strong the pack is . . . I take it ya haven't heard our tales? Or at least our most exciting ones."

As Eaton explained how he came to be a Bone gnawer, Vin's face took on a strong disagreeable look. This was replaced by a fierce tooth filled grin as he continued adding how he was of his tribe's finest warriors. He did not reply, but his posture and demeanor seemed to indicate that he was generally pleased by the response.

At the Galliards inquiry, the lupus Ahroun gestured again with his nose to the book in Eatons hands. "Your tales are in there? Like those of the Silver Record..."

He shakes his head, "The sacred marks of my tribe-Runes-they are carved by the old ones. The Gods reveal their mysteries through them..."

Vin growls, "...or they did; back before the Christians spoke their poison and swayed the followers of the true way."

"The old gods see us as weak for abandoning the old ways. They should." This was punctuated by his clamping his jaw closed tightly.

He pauses, "But I remember the old ways. I keep true. I remain strong. Perhaps, some day I will be worthy of seeing beyond the mysteries."

Feasts on Ashes looks back to Leper friend. "What do your tales say Skald? Do you share glorious battles full of bloodshed-- Or does one of the Rats teeth value songs of something different?"

Eaton grinned as Feasts asked about their tales. Holding up the book he says, "Well, history will be the judge o' whether they be worthy of the Silver Record, but their tales of glory and slaying. We're still Garou, after all."

His tone becoming more enthusiastic, he says, "Only briefly after our pack formed, we were tasked of defending the city of Nacogdoches from a corrupted human named Vicente Cordova. He was leadin' a milita with the ultimate goal of takin' the caern. We were fresh pup's then, but still defended the caern heart against the onslaught while they more seasoned Garou went for the demon controllin' Cordova head on. Sure, we mighta got scraped up a bit, but we were all on the front lines tearin' those wyrm freaks a new one."

He paused before he continued, "Funny ya should mention christians poisonin' other men, 'cause in my experience the ones who go ta church on Sunday and take communion ain't the problem. My pack also found glory takin' care of the cult of the weepin' moon. It's whole society was wrapped around worshippin' these witches who took their power from the wyrm. Several cities in Texas were under their sway, festerin' grounds for the enemy to grow. The Prodigals exterminated each and every one of their strongholds, finally banishing their queens into the maw of the Storm Eater itself."  
 
Eaton then taps his head, "I mean, I keep the stories up here, too. My Journal habits just come from when I was a kid. I guess it all started when I had a vision and didn't wanna forget it . . ."

He then looks at Vin, "Oh yeah- I get visions and can see them at will- you were gonna find that out eventually."

Vin licks his lips expectantly as Eaton begins sharing the tales of the pack. Eaton can tell Vin doesn't fully understand every word but does appear to get the gist of it.
When Eaton mentions witches, Vin slightly recoils and hangs his tongue out the side of his mouth, clearly not a fan of the concept.

However, when Eaton mentions having visions, Vin scoots closer almost conspiratorially.
"How strange. You are not Godi, yet you have messages brought to you by the spirits."

Vin mumbles under his breath, turning his head to the side, "No wonder this pack seems to do so well, the Gods help them...."

An idea seems to hit the Ahroun like a ton of bricks, "You say your 'visions' are controlled. Can you see of my brother and me? Do you know if we ever truly find a home, or a hunting ground of our own?"

Eaton thought his unique talent would enliven the Get's interest, but not to this extent- an Ahroun this interested on what he had to say? He was sure he wanted to hear more tales of violent and dismemberment to make sure that he was strong enough to be considered a suitable temporary companion.

Eaton seemed pensive as he replied, "Well as of right now I don't think I've seen ya or yer brother before, but before ya beckon the beyond, ya need to know what yer askin'."

"Ya mighta touched in it before, but this place ain't yer home? Or a potential one? Why exactly are ya searchin' in the first place?"

Feasts on Ashes backed away some from Eaton when asked the question. He appeared to frown looking at the dirt for a moment before looking back at Eaton.
"That is a tale not normally shared."

He lets out a low growl, "Words-half-Spoken and I come from across the sea...our hov-the Sept under the stars. You know we are brothers. Our mother was a Manskr named Seeping Fang. She was killed upon Words half Spoken birth. The Hov Forseti was a Ulfr Red Talon named Makes No lies. He helped raise my brother and to a degree me."

Vin seemed pained to talk, but he kept going. "Our time there was not...good. My father Gorrn-a lupus Get of Fenris kinfolk was pack leader-his pack was of only other kinfolk, but it was a large pack. He did not wish to accept my step-brother because he was metis. He saw him as cursed by the Gods and felt him being in the pack would bring calamity. I forced him to, fresh from my victory of defeating the corrupted fire drake."

Feasts on Ashes snapped at the air as he spoke, "Shortly upon being 'accepted' one of our sept mates, a Voksen I think, made the mistake of insulting Words half Spoken. I will not repeat the insult but know, it was grievous. Though he was merely a pup, Words half spoken broke the Voksen's spine. Much bad blood came from this."

Vin gave a pained grimace, "A Ting was called by the Jarl. Truce was made by Makes no Lies-as Jotunn were plentiful and rage could be better spent. After the fighting stilled, the drinking began as is custom. Makes No Lies consumed too much. He revealed to all that he was Words half spoken father."

The Fenrir ahroun looked back to Eaton, "None knew at the sept."

Feasts on Ashes continued, his words full of bitter sweet pride. "Words half spoken became Forseti that day. He slew his mentor Makes no Lies for violation of our law in front of all, without hesitation. However, due to our past and now added to this the loss of our ally, we were chased away."

Vin licked his lips, "The Breakwater Hov did not turn us away. However, the current Jarl does not protect his protectorate. Making peace with those who have and would slay Ulfr does not serve the tribe. This thought and feeling though is not shared by my tribe mates. They are not Ulfr. They do not see the danger, or smell the poison from the men of cloth."

The Ahroun stopped his words and gazed at Eaton, "This is why we search out for our own."

At the mention that a Red Talon brought up the brothers, quite a bit fell into place for the Galliard. Already the Lupus would have a different outlook, but being colored by a lens of Griffon's brood their dissatisfaction with the Breakwater sept was understandable.  

As Feasts finished his tale, Eaton gave a grimace of pity, "Yikes, seems like ya both had it rough. I guess I never had to worry about not havin' a place to go back to, a place where ya weren't welcome or wanted . . . Well, by folks who knew me, at least."

Trying to think of something that may help with the Lupus's dilemma, he added, "But there's more than one way to find somethin'. Sure, we can wander around and try and stumble upon a sept that accept ya with open arms- but have ya tried contactin' other Lupus who are in the same boat, er, circumstance as you? It wouldn't have to be the fanciest caern, but someplace where others would accept and understand you."

He quickly added, "Not that I don't already."

Feasts on Ashes gave a fierce look, "Mighty Fenris does not have weak children. The weak die. The strong survive. It is the way of things. We are forged to become strong. Our hov across the sea did not need us now--but this is well. Jormungandr is found in all places."

In response to Eaton's suggestion about contacting others of like mind or circumstance, the Ahroun gave a low rumbling growl. "Leaving this caern would be seen as allowing it to be violated and a cowardly act. Only the Jarl could say otherwise, but Robert will not. His ruling must be challenged for this to change, but the Hov Alpha can not be challenged as he has declared war."

Vin flares his nostrils, "Due to the range of the protected hunting ground, few other tribes are near enough. Fewer still would approach."

Feasts on Ashes shakes his head seeming to attempt and clear his thoughts.
He then turns to look back at Eaton, his eyes full of rage, but it is readily clear that the Bone Gnawer is not the intended target.

"There you see Leper-Friend. This is why I ask if you would use your channel with the God's to see if my brother and I are destined to have our own hunting ground...or not. If our days are to be filled with the bloodshed under another's banner or if we will someday be able to claim our own."

He mulls over something internally before adding, ""Consider the coming days a test of our worthiness. Should the day of our doom not come in our journey with the Uktena...will you speak with the Gods on my brother and I's behalf?"

Vin smiles an awkward toothy grin, in an poor attempt to appear friendly.

Eaton considered Vin's request. He was enjoying that this werewolf believed his visions were gifted by the Great Fenrir spirits, instead of knowing that the Galliard had no idea of the source of the insight. But hey, might as well be the Gods for the purpose of this exercise. Plus, there were precious view times before when someone had come to him outside the pack asking for his sights. He wouldn't say it, but he was enjoying the attention.

"So yeah, I do see that yer stuck between a rock and hard place bein' at this caern. I do wanna let ya know that it ain't like Gaia directly whispers into my ear- they're ripe with imagery and other hazy omens. So I don't wanna promise miracles- but sure- once we've finished our business with the Pure, I will ask for their wisdom. That sound fair?"

The Fenrir fostern shifts immediately into his more comfortable lupus form and howls happily in response.

Clearly he finds the offer agreeable.