Rends learn some new tricks.

The morning before the Prodigals left the Forked Path Sept, while the others were packing their things and saying their goodbyes, Rends pulled Zoe aside.

"Hey Zoe, I know  you's busy and all, but you reckon you could summon a couple spirits for me? I'd like to learn a couple gifts 'afore we set out in case we get into any trouble on the way home."

The Theurge smiled eagerly.

"Sure thing Rends. Good to know you fancy Fostern still need a hand sometimes."

They headed towards the Caern's heart, sitting across from each other.

"So, what kind of spirit do ya need first?"

Rends scratched at his chin, considering.

"I reckon a cat first."

Zoe nodded, closing her eyes. After just a few moments, a large rust-brown cat came slinking from around a large rock, reflective eyes searching the cavern like spotlights before alighting on Rends. Rends raised a hand in greeting, not quite sure how to begin.

"Uh, howdy Mr. Cat spirit. Thank ya kindly for showin' up. I, uh, I was wonderin if'n you could teach me somethin. See it's my job to keep my pack safe and kill the enemies of Gaia, and I'm damn good at it. But I reckon it only takes me bein' too slow once for someone to get lucky and mess everythin' up. So if'n you could, I'd greatly appreciate it if you'd teach me the Spirit of the Fray. Name your chiminage and I'll do what you think is fair in exchange."

The spirit regarded him with its curious lambent eyes. "You are fortunate- your call has been answered by Yaguarondi, Hunter of Eagles in Flight. None are faster than she." The red dun cat's voice was a self-assured purr, but Rends-the-Gar found her feline features inscrutable.

"Much has she heard of the Get of Fenris- mighty killers, one and all." Yaguarondi slunk around the Ahroun slowly, sizing up the Garou warrior.

"If she teaches you her magic, she asks that you hunt a bird larger than a sparrow once a week until the rise of the next half-moon. Do not eat the bird, but leave it near the den of a rival or in the crook of a tree." Yaguarondi broke her intense stare and licked idly at her paw, long claws distending one by one as her tongue snaked out.

"Surely this small thing can be done easily by such as you, son of Fenris..."

Rends nods once.

"I reckon. Thank you, Ms. Yaguarondi. Consider it done."

Rends-the-Gar had scarcely finished speaking when Yaguarondi pounced, faster than the eye could follow; her form blurred with speed as she crossed the distance between them in an instant, eyes and fangs flashing. As the spirit's razor edged claws caught in the Fenrir's chest, he gasped, but not from pain- he felt the cat jaggling's gift suffuse him, a twitchy rush of nervous power, and an awareness that bordered on foresight.  

The spirit, flowing like dusty red smoke, left him before reforming in a nearby mesquite tree. The cat looked at him, its cool gaze unchanged. "Her gifts are yours now, wolf-warrior. Go, hunt, kill... and remember her words."

Rends took a couple of deep breaths. Nothing had changed as far as he could see or sense, but he felt different somehow. It was like a dream half remembered on the edge of his mind, but the dream was waiting to be formed by his enemy's actions. When the time came he knew he'd be able to anticipate his enemy's movements more quickly than ever. He smiled, clenching a fist and nodding to Yaguarondi.

"Oh I will. Don't you worry about that."

As the Jaggling slinked off into the shadows, Rends nodded to Zoe.

"One more, if'n you're willing. A snow spirit. Now I know how ta get the jump on 'em, I jest gotta learn how ta put 'em down for good."

Zoe closes her eyes and chants softly, grimacing slightly as she works a bit harder to summon this spirit. She opens her eyes and gives Rends an apologetic look. "This spirit was a little more difficult to summon and might not be too happy to speak with you. I'll be here if you need a mediator, but it's up to you to convince the spirit you are worth helping."

A wet, icy blast tore through the heart of the Forked Path caern, chilling both Garou. A flurry of snow billowed around a man-sized figure, the snowstorm obscuring its features. The wind howled, clawing at the trees, but the spirit said nothing. The wild grass and primrose at its feet wilted and then began to curl into alien frost-warped shapes.

Rends feels a surge of strength at the icy blast. Something about it calls to his heritage, bringing the barbarian savage closer to the surface.

"Spirit. I am Rends the Gar of the Fenrir. Im mighty good at killin stuff, but some enemies can heal themselves faster than i can kill em. Ive seen what damage frost can do though, and how it aint easy ta heal the damage. Teach me this gift, so i can do my tribe proud. Name your price, and ill see you repaid too."

The spirit crept closer, leaving a slowly-thawing path of frost-gnawed vegetation in its wake. "You may address me by my name, Fostern. I am Mawl-Sūme, the Left Handed Brother, the Freezing Wolf." As it drew nearer, its rime-whipped features became more distinct: that of a man or maybe a Garou, its skin blue black from exposure. Its white eyes were deep-set and bestial, like those of a canid. "You are presumptive, calling upon me so early... the Equinox has only just arrived, and summer's heat still lingers. Winter is far off yet." Mawl-Sūme's voice was a soft and distant, almost weak, like a dying man suffocating under an avalanche. "This is a slight, one that I am disinclined to overlook without recompense, a token of good faith."

In response to Rends' request of the gift, Mawl-Sūme's personal wind-storm seemed to moan and howl, and the spirit paused, venting its cold fury, before it continued in its earlier muffled, even tone. "Ah but of course, you wish to learn such a wondrous weapon. Frost is a deadly hunger, burning and ruining soft, quivering warm flesh." A trace of smug delight tinged the frozen spirit's words, but then its voice took on a hard edge: "Though you Fenrir come from far off lands, my memory is a long one indeed, Rends-the-Gar. I can recall when your kind came here before. The children of Fenris have been spilling Pure blood for many, many years."

"I will teach you my gift, Full Moon, but I will not be complicit in the destruction of Uktena and the Wendigo. I require that you not employ this or any other gift upon either the tribes of the Elder or Younger Brother." Its voice lowered to a sigh, almost matching the whirling, blowing tempo of the constant wind. "What say you, Fenrir?"

Rends mouth falls slightly agape as he flushes, though whether it's from embarrassment at the chastisement or outrage at the cost of the gift is hard to say. He considers for a long moment, weighing each word as he replies.

"I meant no offense, Mawl-Sume, in summoning you now. I's fostern, but i still got lots ta learn. Especially 'bout spirits and such. I apologize."

He pauses, then seems to come to a decision.

"I reckon l can accept them terms. But my role as Ahroun is to be the claws and fangs of my pack. We's worked hard to bring peace with the injuns and Pure tribes, but lots of bloods been spilled on both sides. I swear l will not use my gifts in anger or to defend myself from any of the Pure, but if my pack is attacked, how can l look them in the eye if l don't fight with everything l have to defend them? If one of them died when l coulda saved them..."

He trails off, at a loss for words.

Rends looks up again, meeting the spirit's frosty gaze with his own.

"I accept your terms. We got some fightin' ahead of us, but it's against the Wyrm and on behalf of the Pure tribes mostly. I reckon if all goes as planned we won't be fightin' them none anyhow. And I have other ways to defend my pack."

He pats the club tied to his belt.

When Rends-the-Gar agreed, Mawl-Sūme exhaled. It was a hopelessly empty sound, as happy and comforting as an orphan's death rattle. It caught in Rends-the-Gar's chest, burning into his lungs before spreading into his extremities. The son of Fenris grit his teeth and smiled. Despite the pain, the cold was not alien- it was a familiar, almost soothing feeling, a sign of his ancient heritage made manifest. Spirit-stuff and water vapor swirled and coalesced into long razor shards of ice over his fangs and claws. The bone-chilling ache slowly ebbed, leaving only the occasional faint twinge in his extremities.

The howling winds that surrounded the grim snow spirit died down to a slow moan. "It is not my purpose to weaken you against the Pure, Rends-the-Gar; I have fought alongside Fenrir and Wendigo both. I wish merely to preserve my own honor." Mawl-Sūme's voice was a harsh whisper. Snow flurries still spinning and gusting around him, Mawl-Sūme's form shifted into that of a gaunt black wolf, hairless and glassy eyed.

"I have kept my end of the bargain, Garou. I look forward to you upholding your own oath." As it spoke, the spirit began to slowly fade from view.