Shadow Running

[Kelreth]

Eyes stare intently back into Brigit's. For one heart beat, then two, then three, then..four? <<Respect. Not Subservience.>> Necessary Guile whispers in a hiss. Then deftly tabs Brigit on the noise with a paw before scampering up the nearest thing it can find, that isn't a Wolf.

<<Moonless bell is another bell>> Guile says looking from Emily to Hector. Then it keeps looking at Hector. <<Hunting?>>

[Hector]

<<Yes>>

The Alpha grunted in the affirmative.

<<Hunt. Patrol our borders.>>

Hector did not immediately strike out into the Shadow. Instead he waited, shaggy head dipped, for Necessary Guile to give its assent. It did not pay to ignore one's Totem.

Once the Cat Spirit has given its assent, the Alpha will snarl and lope away into the Hisil, picking up speed into a full run. First east, then north toward the Tur and finally south, tracing the rough line that Hector had set as the pack's frontier. The cunning Alpha might intimate that Pack laid claim to the entire city, but he knew they could probably only hold a fraction of that and so he chose Downtown and its immediate environs - the beating heart of the city.

Left this post a little open ended Kelreth in case you wanted Necessary Guile to have a further role here

[Kelreth]

For a moment Guile shows that it is not a cat as a cheshire cat like grin splits its face for a heartbeat before vanishing. <<Good good>> Necessary Guile works its way even higher along the shadow impression of humanities growth and decay. Finally coming to a stop at the top of a lightpole then watches the pack as it strikes out.

Within the pack's territory the Hisil was orderly and well kept. Everything was more or less as it should be. Motes float as humans live and breath across the gauntlet and lesser spirits flee on many legs and none as the pack near. Outside of their territory however the city grows and looms over them. Buildings standing tall and proud, alleyways seeming to run on forever between them. Some of the alleys fade into what looks like perfect darkness while others show scurries of activity as spirits of various sizes and shapes live their existence.

As the pack draws closer to the heart of the city this intensifies. Instead of merely standing tall some buildings seem to watch the pack. Some quietly and some with almost open aggression, psuedo-iron gates opening and closing as the pack passes by. Every now and then a spirit of a car rolls down the street. Lights shining back and forth as if searching. An almost articulate chorus of howls, though only dogs, comes from one alleyway as the pack runs by. But none emerge to join the hunt or to chase. Overhead occasional flocks of bird, well probably bird spirits, wing through the sky.

None challenge a pack of Uratha though. Leaving open possibilities.

[Emily Makerith]

Emily-Urshal can feel how right this is. It was in her soul. She turns to Hector, silvery fur rippling.

<<Mark. Lay claim. What shape we make?>> she growls in the Spirit's strange tongue.

[Dirt Nap]

wrong account

[Matt Joule]

Matt slows his long strides just enough to keep pace with The Pack. He grins, tongue lolling out as he thrills in The Hunt. He runs with the Pack through the heart of the city. He only just restrains a howl!

[Brigit]

Brigit keeps pace with the pack but says nothing. Her expression is alert, but her body language makes it clear the Redeemed is relaxed.

Brigit is exactly where she needs to be.

[Kelreth]

Faint glowing lines trace the air. Spirits as thin as wires moving here and there. None move towards the pack. Instead they follow paths they know well. Beneath the pack's paws the concrete looks and feels like it has seen better days. Cracks and potholes mark the street. The sidewalks are cleaner, though also look traveled. Despite the city on the other side this side of the Gauntlet remembers. It remembers the devastation that was.

No spirits approach the pack, though who would expect them too? Except for that spirit back by the road months ago. Some spirits, well they are what they are.

[Emily Makerith]

Emily stalks over to one of the inanimate buildings, and carves a pair of jagged C's into the wall with her claws, so that the C's intersect.

<<Easy. Can make on two legs.>> She says, turning to the others with a wide smile.

[Kelreth]

Behind Emily, for a moment, it almost feels like the building trembles then falls still. Around the pack a silence falls. Then like a bubble it starts to grow. Iron gates close and entangle then fall still. Spirits like cars but with lighteyes turn down roads away from the Wolves. The alleys seem to inhale, preparing. A chorus of howls rises and then dies. Harshly. One moment there calling to the heart the next gone.

Then the sound of a bell tolling rolls across the heart of Sacramento's Hisil. Except this is not the bell of Necessary Guile. This is a toll of ending and sorrow.

Two blocks away, across roads that almost look to crumble at the tolling. Running past sidewalks that suddenly seem as still and as dead as their material counterparts. A robed hooded figure rounds the corner. One arm held up high holding a bag sized bell. The other carries a mallet that the being uses to strike the bell.

Its robes clearly were white at one point now tarnished to a dull grey. The end that touches the ground brown with dirt and black with worse. At the hems of its sleeves red flecks stand out. Gloves cover it hands and shadows seem to breath from where a head should be.

Bell toll