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"S-so..." Softpaws says uncertainly, "do you c-come here often?" She smiles, her joke hanging in the air between her pack mate and herself. The adrenaline in her bloodstream is long gone, and the hungry werewolf is more than ready for some food.
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The red headed man lets out a sigh, taking another drink of his Lager. A slight smile sitting on his face.
"No. Do you mate with that man often?" He says gesturing to Hour-Tales. He appears to be trying to keep his face blank, but you can almost see a wicked grin in his eyes as he takes another drink.
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"M-m-m-mate!?" Softpaws is aghast at the suggestion. Sure, he was likeable -- but not like that. Besides, they were both Garou, and that would be wrong. It would be wrong, just like Softpaw's own birth --
She ends that train of thought with a shake of her head, her mouth open slightly like she's slow.
Blushing, she very carefully studies her silverware.
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Softpaws shrugs, still looking at her table and fiddling with it. Who are these people? Is this really a Caern? Were they Garou? Why were they being so mean to her?
She doesn't say anything for a few moments.
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Jason shakes his head at the red-haired man's obvious teasing of the two. "No, not in that way." he states. "As to our uncle," he adds, turning to the woman. "It's something like that."
"Ii-its illegal!" Softpaws exclaims. Technically, this is true both for American society -- due to her age -- and in Garou society -- due to them both being werewolves. She looks more embarrassed at Jason's reply, said at the same time.
Sure, you aren't the pick of the litter, but its not like you're a dog or anything. Why are you even thinking like this? Focus!
The young girl looks up at the other two people and takes a moment to notice things about them. Its something she did often as a young child -- people watch. Look at his clothes, look at her hands. You can find out a lot about a person from observation. The exercise calms her down somewhat.
Spoiler
(5d10)[8][6][6][5][6](31) Perception check if you want it.
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Having gotten as much as he can from the moment, the red headed man lets the matter go. He looks between the woman and the Hours. "Clearly this is no ordinary place. This lager is too good to be for normal men, and you two are speaking in code. That and all this talk of pigs." He looks a bit tipsy.
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Softpaws doesn't really know what to say to that -- she is well aware that her guilelessness could work against her. Especially if the strange man wasn't a Garou, like she had previously thought. No, better to let Jason sort this one out for now.
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The woman returns the smile. "I'm Lifa," she says, introducing herself excitedly.
"I doubt that coincidences have conspired to bring myself and this bloke here."
Lifa pauses briefly, allowing it to sink in before continuing.
"And you two are?"
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"Well, Lifa, Laughs at Blood," Jason says as he checks one more time to see where his order is, "it's a pleasure to meet you. What brings us all into the big city today?" he says, intrigued slightly by what the lady had said about coincidences.
The bartender returns with a serving tray full of food, three Lagers, and one water. Soft Paws is being given the water.
As he sets the food down, he quietly says:
"The holy spirits watch over us, help us in many ways that we don't always understand. Where some can only see only coincidence, those with a little faith see providence."
He glances over at the waitress and the two patrons in the side room. They all seem to still be distracted.
"Boar has brought you children together in a safe place in the middle of the city. That is something to be thankful for, but don't miss the opportunity that he may be giving you."
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"Boar is a spirit for war times." Laughs at Blood's humor vanished quickly, and he looked far more somber. "I came here to learn about the ways of Weaver's people. To see first hand what my tribemates rail on about." He took a quick drink from the second lager. "So to what ends does Boar want?" His question was more to let it linger in the air. He didn't know if the other two knew, or the bartender, but he certainly didn't. It would make this much easier if they someone here knew.
Jason takes a bite of his burger followed by a short sip of the lager. "Wow, that does have a bit of a kick to it... No more for me, then. I would see providence if I knew exactly how we got here. That, however," he says as he takes another bite.
The Lager is the best alcoholic drink you have ever tasted. It's taste is unlike anything you have ever drank. It's almost as if you were drinking... a nice juicy roast, it tastes that good. And most alcohol doesn't affect Garou that well. Their metabolism is much too high. This stuff, you feel a buzz coming over you after the second drink.
The bartender carefully pours a glass for himself, and has a sip while listening to Jason. After thinking for a moment, he looks him in the eye and says "Sometimes you can't see the whole picture unless you have all the angles. The way I see it, you can either tell these two what brings YOU two down to the city, and maybe they can help you figure out why it is you're here. Or maybe the four of you need to go back where you two came from a few minutes ago, and talk to Boar. He isn't afraid to help his children, even in this neck of the city."
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"Well, I was going to wait a bit because this can be a while, but if you insist. Can I get a soda, because I think I may have to be the driver here later on? All right."
Jason scoots the stool a bit closer to the other two, taking a slight sip of his drink to wet his throat. He begins the tale, his voice as if he's reciting an old legend.
"It was in the time of the gibbous moon that the Bone Gnawer Ragabash went missing, leaving his kith and kin worried for his safety. The meeting that was to have happened had already come and gone, but the return of Ragabash to the pack had not happened as it should have. Deep Fang, the alpha of the pack, gathered his charges together and began the search. Hour Tales used his eye in the sky to look down upon the urban meadow, and saw what had been there months ago. He saw where others could be, and where. The Boar appeared to them as they left, and said that there would be great danger and would need everyone if they were to succeed. Filled with conviction and concern both, the pack left for where they knew Ragabash had been last.
They arrived in the meadow and saw the storm clouds begin to gather. Filled with apprehension, for they had not heard of any storm's coming, the pack began their hunt. Softpaws and Trashcan changed their skins and searched for their packmate's scent, while the Alpha and Hour Tales consulted the eye once more. There was a place where the young of the humans played, and there were many of their caerns around, so Hour Tales suggested that they begin their search around there. The Alpha agreed and sent the two hunters on their way.
It was Soft Paws that raced back only minutes later, informing the Alpha that the stench of the Wyrm was there in the meadow and that it was if all of the living things in the aread seemed as if they had just vanished.
Soft Paws then saw behind her packmates a reason for the stench, the white fur and pink-red eyes of a squirrel. The squirrel was sitting on top of their vehicle, snarling at them. The Alpha changed his skin when he saw it, growing slightly in size and strength, followed by Hour Tales.
The beast leaped at the Alpha, claws and teeth flashing. The battle continued for seconds until Softpaws bit deeply into the body of the squirrel. The Alpha, body hurting slightly from the evil biting and scratching, called for a search for the source of the squirrel, feeling that they may have been responsible for the disappearance of his packmate.
The pack found them only feet away: resting on the branches of the trees, looking down upon them. Hour Tales climbed the tree to knock them down, was set upon by them, falling to the ground, the swarm upon him. The pack set upon the swarm and killed them, saving their hurt packmate before he could be hurt too much.
A new scent then filled the air, one that the pack could not remember smelling before. They followed it into the trees and saw the alcove. Standing on top of blue flames was a robed man, chanting and gesticulating." Hour Tales chants a few of the words that he remembers and says a few more nonsense words to help with his storytelling.
"Lightning bolts rose around him as he stood over the bodies of humans. The pack could not tell if they were alive or dead, but it did not matter at the time. The pack could feel the unease of something unnatural in the air as the man continued chanting. Softpaws and Hour Tales charged at him, their Alpha following closely behind. They were stopped feet away from the robed man by a barrier that they could not see.'This will not do! "The robed man said with a gesture, throwing Hour Tales and Softpaws into the Umbra. The two looked around but could see no other sign of their packmates. They looked around the city they were now in and saw the sign of the Boar. Heading their, large spiders on their trail, they returned to the normal world."
Jason takes a drink out of the glass in front of him, breathing a slight sigh of relief that the tale has been told.
Laughs quirked his eyebrow. "Curious. I came here to explore the city with a boar in my dreams." Though drunk, his demeanor was sobering up. "I believe I am your new Ragabash. The dog is most likely dead."
Lifa listened intently as Jason recant the tale of the robed man and missing packmates. The mysteries of the eldritch and supernatural were still exotic enough for her that she founds a sliver of excitement in their imagination.
Then Lifa listened to Laughs propose his idea - the spirits were bringing the four of them together as a pack.
"In such a case, a more formal greeting might be more apt." Lifa followed after Laugh's, her sombre delivery in sharp contrast to the giddy excitement she felt within.
"I'm Heart-of-the-Storm, Crescent Moon of the Get of Fenris."
"I'm beginning to feel the same way about Ragabash," Jason says. "If you both wish to join us, I don't have a problem with it. If we ever find Deep Fang--our Alpha--I think he'll have to approve it, but it's fine by me.
My name is Hour Tales, Galliard of the Glass Walkers," he formally introduces himself.
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