1510 Flame against the Dark

[Kelreth]

Across the Gauntlet dog spirits wander through the grounds of Tur. The majority having taken to laying on top of or near each other for the night. Stragglers remain awake, keeping an eye over their tiny world.

The man sitting on a table reaches out a hand to pet a spirit that is across the Gauntlet. He chuckles as the spirit moves through where his hand would be and continues on. It's the eyes you see, one is the black of a dark night filled with tiny stars. Besides the sheathed hunting knife hanging from his hip he'd pass as a normal person...assuming no one normal tried to talk to him. Both eyes sweep across the grounds of the dog park, waiting.

This is a Social thread for all Werewolf PCs. It is not mandatory to attend though it is very useful for finding a pack or making one.

Addendum: Any Urdaga can find Tur. Small bird spirits have a habit of guiding new wolves to Tur.

[Cabochard]

Ryoushi arrives at Tur when it's still just him and the stranger. Dressed, as usual, in decent-looking clothes, he looks slightly out-of-place. The edge of a tattoo peeks out beneath the collar of his shirt, but what it looks like is still largely hidden.

Ryoushi lurked at the edge of the territory for a bit, watching the man sitting in the small territory. Had the bird led him wrong? Maybe it was just someone in the Herd who'd decided to stick around...though the eye...in any case, it was Tur. Finally, the Rahu decides to find something out. He stalks across the border into the park and up to the park bench, keeping an eye out for danger. ​"Good evening."

[Aeneas]

Aeneas appears, stepping from the shadows like he had just popped into existence. Dust clung to his boots, jeans and shirt; it coloured his hands and lay thick under his nails. Sniffing loudly, he moved deeper into the dog park, beady eyes roving hither and yon. A hand curled on the hilt of his knife, sheathed and hanging from his belt, a movement that only served to enhance his predatory look.

The Irraka had been hunting. He still was, but now he was hunting more of his kind. Tur was sacred, comforting. It was a place to gather freely, and since the night at the pub, the Mennina had felt to the desire to mingle more with his own kind more.

He spotted the Blood Talon as he stalked onto the Tur; his eyes locked on the mysterious man at the bench, searching for brands.

Friend or foe? Predator or prey?

Aeneas leered wickedly.

[Jeremiah Daniels]

Both eyes watch the asian as he approaches, when he speaks its clear where he's from. "Evening to you too. New I take it?" Cautious neutrality remains on the man's face as someone else appears from the night. That guy gets a hand wave to come over.

"I'm Jeremiah with the Justicars. There's more of you right? I don't want to do this too." Jeremiah's attention shifts back to the Japanese man.

[SoraLow]

The pup straggles into view wearing a grungy grey hoodie and a pair of blue jeans torn from the knee down, his shoes were tethered, the soles barely hanging on. The only part of him that didn't show signs of his squalor was the set of skull candy head phones wrapped around his neck. A pungent oder is starting to arise as it is now hitting the third or four day in a row he's not had a decent shower. Homeless or not, he is here, and has no where else to go. Despite not having any desire to live this life, he knows that he has to be here, to be one of the people, and hopefully one day be able to survive this nightmare. "Umm, hi"

[Lesingnon]

She'd been scarce around here for a while. Perhaps too long, for one of her tribe. And for tonight, at least, that changed. Sacramento's eldest Meninna, one of its eldest wolves period tread upon the sacred ground of Tur once more.

Her steps were quiet, and measured; more a prowl than a walk, really. Her presence was not something she bothered to announce. Instead she simply moved to stand alongside Aeneas as her eyes roved across the newcomers. Though she somewhat regretted having to smell them. It took an effort of will not to wrinkle her nose as she caught the stench of one of them.

Which of them would drift through the city after a few short months, leaving nothing more than the memories of another pup come and gone? How many would stay, she wondered, long enough to leave something more. How many would make their own mark on this city? The Cahalunim might know, she supposed, but she certainly did not. Time would tell.

For now, at least, she seemed content to listen and observe rather than talk.

[Jeremiah Daniels]

Jeremiah leans forward and rises from the table then speaks calmly. "Jeremiah Daniels. Ghost Wolf of the Crescent Moon and Chorus of the Justicars." His mouth opens to speak again then closes as he sniffs the air. It only takes a moment and the well dressed man looks at the kid. Jeremiah shakes his head then looks back at Bridger.

"Willowsbark told me to head down here and talk with a few of you. We're a bit busy on the edge of town. There's been vans." Emphasis on vans. Lets see if anyone's a thinker.

[Violet]

Late, Molly walks Tur. She's wearing the same jeans and Carhartt jacket some had seen her in already. Actually, the jeans were a different pair, but the marks from wood stain were spread equally over all her pairs. Aside from the stains from work, her clothes are clean.

There is already a group formed, and a few of them are the Uratha she'd met at the bar. Confidently, the Cahaltih strides up to Ryoushi, the one who seemed most eager to get a pack together. "Good evenin'" she says to him, and the rest of the crowd. Her appalachian drawl thick.

"I don't believe I've met some of you. My name is Molly Daniels, Cahalith of the Storm Lords. I'm here from Louisville."