WtA:Burning Fury

Browser lacks capabilities required to play.

Upgrade or switch to another browser.

Loading…

[img[https://st3.depositphotos.com/1686288/12846/i/450/depositphotos_128469714-stock-photo-fire-in-a-wooden-house.jpg]] I was just a kid when the flames consumed my hometown. They licked hungrily at the wooden beams of our house, scorching everything in their path. The heat branded itself into my skin, leaving scars that would never heal. The fire tore into the side of my face, forever ruining it. I nearly succumbed to the thick, choking smoke, and if my mother hadn’t summoned every ounce of strength to push me out of harm’s way, I would have died that night. Her screams echo in my memory, a haunting melody forever burned into my mind. The night plays out in my head like a nightmarish painting, vivid and unrelenting. When my father returned from his trip, I refused to go back to the house. The guilt of my mother’s cries weighed too heavily on me. How could I face him—the man whose wife I was responsible for killing? Our relationship fractured soon after. We stopped speaking, the silence between us an unspoken admission of blame. I became a hollow shell of myself, aimlessly wandering the house in search of anything that could dull the constant ache in my mind. Most nights, I found solace at the bottom of a glass bottle, drowning in its numbing embrace. I was like my name sake, A rock suspended in a rushing River of destruction. One night, when the police came to arrest me for drinking, my father claimed the alcohol was his, saying I’d simply found his stash. He saved me from the law, but the look in his eyes after they left was one of pure disappointment and resentment. I could feel the guilt flowing through me like the water in a stream, Ice cold and ruinious. Who could blame him? He lived with me—a broken, alcoholic child and the person responsible for the death of the woman he loved. I was a stain on his life, a living, breathing reminder of everything he’d lost that night. I had always hoped to take after the better side of my name, the gentle beauty of shining waters. But instead I was an all consuming flood of destruction and damnation. [[Moving out]]

The house had become too painful a reminder of everything I’d lost, everything I had done. So, one day, I left. No note, no phone, nothing to track me. I disappeared, a whisper in the wind. I spent the last of my money from an old job on a bus ticket to take me as far away as possible. It wasn’t a fast escape, but it was fast enough. An overnight ride took me out of state, and after two more buses and three straight days of non-stop travel, I found myself in the Rocky Mountains. I left behind my identity the day I left, I abandoned my name and everything that came with it, I refuse to let myself be known by that name ever again. It wasn’t my first time crashing on the streets. Looking the way I did, it wasn’t hard to blend in among the homeless camps. I was just another face in the crowd—scarred, unkempt, and invisible. Better they don't know the child whos name once brought disaster to others. Most days, I scavenged for alcohol, picking through dumpsters for discarded bottles. It didn’t matter how it tasted, as long as it numbed the pain. My body was a shadow of its former self skin pale to the point of sickness, veins stark and visible against the surface. Money was all that mattered, I rarely if ever had a use for it but better to have it and not need it, then need it and not have it. [[Memory lane]]

Pulling myself out from the dazed state of incoherent memories and recounting past trauma I looked out from my tent. A dull fog blanketed the sky, and a weak snowfall misted down, barely covering the streets beneath my worn boots. The sidewalk crunched beneath me—a sound I’d grown used to over the years. My brain throbbed, still swimming in the remnants of a hangover from the expired booze I’d scavenged last night. Dumpster diving had become such a routine part of my life that the trashy smell no longer fazed me. I stank most of the time anyway, so it hardly mattered. [img[https://img.apmcdn.org/d34ee6b7a7160771dc0b5e89962d4e4ca15dc660/normal/cf05fe-20181201-encampment01.jpg]] As much as I fiended for a shower right now, it didn’t really matter. Not anymore. My appearance was about as useful to me as snorting back kilos of cocaine just to let the high drag me face-first into a snowbank on the side of the road. Pointless. Drugs were a waste. At least alcohol kept me numb instead of sending me spiraling into an existential crisis of faith, drowning me in guilt and memories I couldn’t afford to dig up. I didn’t have the luxury of thinking anymore. The only thing that mattered was making it to the next day. Swerving off to the side, something shiny caught my eye—a glint of metal buried in the filth of a dumpster behind some rundown café. My feet carried me toward it before my brain even registered what I was doing. My hands dug through warm, wet plastic bags, the stench clinging to my fingers as I pulled out a half-empty flask. I sniffed at the mouth of it. Gasoline and cheap vodka. Without a second thought, I poured it onto the pavement, watching as the liquid splattered in uneven puddles at my feet. A thick, black chunk tumbled out, hitting the sidewalk with a dull plop. I squinted at it, wrinkling my nose. "Chewing tobacco… always smells like death," I muttered, slipping the empty flask into my back pocket anyway. Then, I kept walking. Kept moving. The air was thick with the stink of burning rubber and piss as I trudged down the road, dragging my hands through dumpsters, yanking open bags, scrounging for whatever scraps of life I could still salvage. [[Back streets]]

The notebook still in my hand, I turned to the gruff owner behind the counter. His face was a mixture of boredom and irritation as he continued his phone call, complaining about unsold stock and wasted time. I waited for him to hang up, and when he finally slammed the receiver down, I approached the counter with an uniterested look, notebook in hand as I gently sliding my palm over the glass. “How much for this?” I asked, holding up the book under the humming flourescent lights above me. He squinted at it, then waved a dismissive hand. “That thing? It’s junk. Couple bucks, maybe. You want it, it’s yours for five.” “Five? For this?” I flipped the book open to the weathered pages, feigning disinterest. “It’s falling apart. Looks like something you’d pay me to take off your hands.” He snorted, clearly unimpressed. “Then don’t buy it.” I placed the notebook on the counter and slid my fingers over the cover. “Tell you what. I’ll give you two bucks. No one else is buying this thing. I’d be doing you a favor.” The old man leaned back, crossing his arms. “Three. Final offer.” his voice etched with a slight annoyance as he glazed over my ragged form. I met his gaze and smirked. “Two fifty. Take it or leave it.” For a moment, he just stared at me, his expression unreadable. Then he sighed, muttering something under his breath about “cheap bastards” before grabbing the cash from my hand. “Fine. Two fifty. Now get out of here.” He growled to me in ana annoyed voice as he began to flip through an old newspaper in front of him. [[On the Streets]]

I glanced back at the shopkeeper. He was busy muttering into his phone again, completely engrossed in whatever argument he was having. My fingers tightened around the notebook as a plan formed in my mind. Sliding the book into my jacket, I began casually strolling toward the door, keeping my pace steady and my gaze forward. The old bell above the entrance jingled as I pushed it open. the cold metal stining my skin as I exhaled with a stressed breath. But just as I was about to step outside— “Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I froze. He’d seen me. My heart thudded as I turned, trying to play it cool. “What are you talking about?” I asked, my voice steady though I could feel my heart beating rapidly. “That damn book!” he barked, storming toward me. “You think I didn’t notice you pocketing it? Put it back, or I’ll call the cops!” I could hear his footsteps racing from behind the counter and towards me. I didn’t think twice. I bolted out the door, the sound of his shouting fading behind me as I tore down the street. My boots pounded the pavement, my breath sharp and quick. Behind me, I could hear him yelling, but he wasn’t fast enough to follow. Thankfully once you run these streets enough you learn them by heart. [[On the Streets]]

Curiosity got the better of me. Instead of slipping the notebook into my jacket, I turned it over in my hands and approached the counter. Curiosity pulled at the back of my head like the claws of a cat. “Hey,” I called to the shopkeeper, holding up the book. “What’s the story with this?” slipping it onto the counter and into his view. He glanced up, his expression shifting to mild annoyance. “What, that old thing? I don’t know. Some old guy brought it in last week. Said it wasn’t meant to be left out in the open or some nonsense like that.” “Not meant to be left in the open?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow. The shopkeeper shrugged. “Yeah, said it was too important or dangerous or whatever. Sounded like a load of crap to me, but he was desperate to get rid of it. Practically gave it away. Figured I’d stick it on the shelf and see if anyone was dumb enough to buy it.” I flipped the book open again, scanning the weathered pages. The strange, cipher-like text caught my eye. “You didn’t try to figure out what it says?” The shopkeeper barked out a laugh. “What do I look like, some kind of codebreaker? Nah, if it’s valuable, I’ll never know. But judging by how that guy looked, I’d say it’s probably more trouble than it’s worth. Old bastard kept mention something about spirits and gaia, He was a grade A lunatic.” “Why do you say that?” I asked. “Because he wouldn’t stop looking over his shoulder the whole time he was here, Almost like something was watching him.” the shopkeeper said, lowering his voice slightly. “Kept saying, ‘It needs to be hidden. Someone might find it.’ Like he was scared someone was following him. Gave me the creeps, honestly. Personally I wouldn't be caught dead going near that thing.” [[Hagel with him]] [[Steal the book]]

[img[https://wallpapercave.com/wp/wp5453792.jpg]] I wandered out from the back alleys and onto the street, the cold biting at my face as I flipped through the pages of the notebook. The symbols and letters were nothing more than indecipherable scribbles, and with each turn of the page, my hope faded. Why had I even bothered with this thing? It was probably just some old fool’s meaningless ramblings. Frustration simmering beneath the surface, I veered off the main street toward the public park. The snowfall ensured it was deserted, a blanket of white covering the paths and benches. The stillness was almost eerie, but it gave me the solitude I craved. I trudged through the crunching snow, heading for the old stalls near the park restrooms. Stopping just short of the entrances, I tucked the book under my arm, my breath hanging in the air. The quiet was almost suffocating, the sound of my boots the only thing breaking the silence. [[Male bathroom]] [[Female bathroom]] [[Family bathroom]]

I pushed open the door to the men’s restroom, the old hinges creaking under the strain. The smell of mildew hit me immediately, mingling with the faint metallic tang of rust from the cracked, frozen pipes. The flickering fluorescent light above cast jagged shadows on the graffiti-covered walls. Dropping the notebook on the edge of a sink, I stared at myself in the cracked mirror. The man staring back looked as worn as the pages of the book—tired, scarred, and barely holding together. I splashed some icy water on my face, watching the rivulets drip down the jagged scar that defined half of it. [[Back out to the Park]] <<set $gender to "Male">> <<set $pro1 to "Him">> <<set $pro2 to "He">>

I slipped into the women’s restroom, the faded “Ladies” sign above the door barely visible under years of grime. The space was quiet, almost too quiet, with only the faint hum of the building’s heater struggling against the cold. I paused in front of the chipped countertop, the mirror above it frosted over and cracked in one corner. My reflection stared back at me—a gaunt woman with hollow eyes, the ghost of what I used to be. Setting the notebook down, I brushed a strand of hair from my face, fingers lingering on the puckered skin of the old burn scar that marred my cheek. [[Back out to the Park]] <<set $gender to "Female">> <<set $pro1 to "Her">> <<set $pro2 to "She">>

The door to the unmarked restroom creaked open as I stepped inside, the dim overhead light barely illuminating the faded tiles and stained walls. The air was cold, carrying the faint scent of cleaning chemicals that hadn’t quite masked the underlying mildew. I set the notebook down on the sink, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The person staring back seemed unfamiliar—scarred, hollow, and unrecognizable from the person I once was. My fingers hovered over the edge of the sink, tracing its chipped surface as I avoided my reflection, focusing instead on the incomprehensible scribbles on the notebook’s pages. [[Back out to the Park]] <<set $gender to "Non-binary">> <<set $pro1 to "Them">> <<set $pro2 to "They">>

I shut the restroom door behind me, letting the cold handle slip from my fingers. My boots crunched lazily through the snow as I wandered forward, boredom dulling my senses. The sun, hidden behind a thick blanket of clouds, gave no warmth—only a soft, diffuse light that made the falling snow seem endless. My hood hung low over my forehead, shielding me from the worst of the chill. "I could head back to my tent, but it's only noon... ugh," I muttered, rolling my eyes at the thought. My feet dragged through the slush as I trudged aimlessly, the monotonous crunch of snow the only thing keeping me company. Then, it hit—a scream. High, sharp, and filled with agony. It tore through the quiet air like a blade, making my blood run cold. For a moment, I stood frozen, my heart hammering in my chest. But then, instinct kicked in, shoving fear aside. I bolted forward, stumbling over the uneven sidewalk as I raced toward the sound, my breath forming plumes in the frigid air. [img[https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h-xrvtiDqh0/TUs6lqZZ7sI/AAAAAAAABuA/cJrQ85DJR_U/s1600/IMG_1375.JPG]] I skidded to a stop at the corner of an alley, peering around cautiously. What I saw churned my stomach. A man—large, brutish—had a boy by the arm, his grip so tight it left a sickening black bruise. The boy's sobs were ragged, his tears dripping onto the snow below, each one carving a tiny, heartbreaking hole in the whiteness. "I told you to find me the fetish, and you couldn’t find jack shit!" the man snarled, his voice a venomous growl. His canines gleamed unnaturally sharp as he leaned in close to the boy, his anger boiling over. The boy tried to choke out a response, but it was cut short by a vicious slap to his face. The crack of the strike echoed in the narrow alley, and the boy collapsed onto the snow, clutching his cheek where a red welt was already forming. "You never listen to me! Do you ever want to be a proper Garou?!" the man barked, his rage palpable. Something in me snapped. A searing, primal anger clawed its way to the surface, burning hotter with each passing second. My fists clenched tightly as I watched him raise his hand again, ready to strike the boy once more. This was it. This wasn’t something I could walk away from. [[Grab his hand]] [[Shove him]] [[Take the hit]]

My feet tore through the snow, moving fast, driven by a fierce instinct to stop this madness. I planted myself between the man and the boy, my body blocking the inevitable blow before it could land. His hand swung toward the kid, but I was quicker, reaching out and catching his wrist mid-air. The force of his strike was enough to make my muscles strain, but I held tight, my grip unrelenting as I stared him down. He froze, surprised by the sudden resistance, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second. The boy, still crumpled in the snow, let out a shaky breath, his tears mixing with the melting snow around him. The man growled in frustration, trying to wrench his arm free, but I didn’t budge. I met his glare, unwavering, my voice a low, dangerous growl. "Don’t you dare." He hissed through clenched teeth, attempting to pull his arm from my grip, but I didn’t let go. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he sneered, his free hand balling into a fist as he leaned into me, trying to intimidate me with his size. "This isn’t your fight." "It is now," I spat back, tightening my hold on his wrist. The cold of the snow seeped into my bones, but the fire in me burned hotter. "You touch him again, and I’ll make it my last." The man's eyes flickered with a mix of rage and calculation. His chest heaved with shallow breaths, and for a moment, he seemed to weigh his next move. His fingers twitched, but instead of pulling away, he let out a low laugh, one that didn’t reach his eyes. "You're a fool," he growled. "You really think you can stand in my way?" "Try me," I snapped, my voice steady, but heavy with the promise of what would come if he tested me. His hand trembled for a moment—whether out of anger or something else, I couldn’t tell—but he knew the threat was real. The tension lingered, thick as the falling snow, but this time, it was him who stepped back, not me. <<set $nature = "Protective">> [[Ready to fight]]

My feet tore through the snow, driven by a surge of anger as I closed the distance between the man and the boy. Without hesitation, I planted myself firmly in front of the kid, my body acting as a shield. The man’s hand swung toward the boy, but before he could land a hit, I reached out and caught his wrist mid-motion. His momentum carried through for a moment, but I held fast, refusing to let him harm the child. The shock in his eyes was fleeting—he wasn’t expecting resistance. He snarled, attempting to jerk his arm free, but I wasn’t letting go. His rage-filled eyes bore into mine, but I didn’t flinch. I met his gaze with a steady, unwavering stare. "Don’t you dare." He froze for a moment, growling under his breath, his fingers flexing as if he was trying to find some way to break my grip. Then, in an instant, his free hand shot toward me, balled into a fist, aiming to strike. I was faster. With a swift motion, I twisted his wrist, using the momentum to shove him back. He stumbled, but I wasn’t done. With a grunt, I shoved him hard against the nearby wall, the impact echoing through the alley as his back slammed into the brick. He gasped, his breath knocked from his chest, and his body slumped against the wall for a split second before he tried to straighten up. I pressed forward, standing over him with a cold fury in my eyes. "You’ll keep your hands off him, or I’ll make sure you won’t be able to lift them again," I growled, my voice low and dangerous. The man snarled, his teeth bared in frustration, but there was something in my eyes—something that made him hesitate. He knew better than to push it any further. The fire in me was undeniable, and for once, I wasn’t afraid to let it show. He glanced at me, then back at the kid, clearly sizing up the situation. His chest heaved with the effort to control his rage, but after a tense pause, he slowly straightened, his glare still sharp but his hands twitching at his sides. It was clear: he wasn't ready to die for this fight. "Walk away," I spat, the words slicing through the icy air. And for the first time that night, he did. <<set $nature = "Aggressive">> [[Ready to fight]]

My feet tore through the snow, carrying me as fast as I could go, my focus narrowing in on the scene before me. Without hesitation, I planted myself just ahead of the man, my body tensing as I raised my hands in defense. The sharp sting of his hand meeting my skin sent a brief jolt of pain through me, but it quickly faded, replaced by a growing, fiery rage. I didn’t flinch. I stood my ground, locking eyes with the man. For a moment, he seemed stunned, thrown off by my unexpected presence. His posture shifted—surprised and flustered to see someone so angry, so unwilling to back down. My eyes were fixed in a death glare, the kind that could make a person rethink every bad decision they'd ever made. "BACK. UP." I growled, pushing into him with a force that sent him stumbling back. He regained his balance quickly, but I could see the venom building in his expression. His eyes—glowing with violence—narrowed as he closed the distance between us, getting into my face. He wanted a fight. And I was more than ready to end it here, if it came to that. "What is it to you?" he hissed, his breath hot against my ear. His voice dripped with malice, "It's just a stranger. None of your business either." "You made it my business the moment you decided to hurt a kid," I shot back, my voice laced with bitterness, sharp as a knife. My hand brushed against the cold, hard plastic of my gun holstered at my side, my fingers twitching with the urge to let it be the reason this situation ended quickly. He sneered, clearly not intimidated by the threat—at least not yet. "So go ahead, try something like that again and see what happens." My voice dropped lower, rasping through the frozen air like a promise. "You don’t want to test me." He studied me for a heartbeat, weighing his options. The tension hung thick between us, and for a moment, the world seemed to freeze. His next move would determine everything. <<set $nature = "sacrificial">> [[Ready to fight]]

[img[https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h-xrvtiDqh0/TUs6lqZZ7sI/AAAAAAAABuA/cJrQ85DJR_U/s1600/IMG_1375.JPG]] I tensed my shoulders, pushing off the man and stepping back. His eyes burned with pure hatred as he met my gaze, the tension between us crackling like static. It only took a second before he moved, his fist slicing through the air. I barely managed to duck under his swinging arm, the whoosh of displaced air grazing my ear. Using his momentum, I stepped into his back and drove my fist into the back of his head. Pain shot through my knuckles from the impact, but the grunt he let out told me it hurt him more. He staggered but quickly regained his footing, spinning around with another wild swing. This time, I had no chance to dodge. I raised my arms to block just as his fist connected. The sheer force sent me crashing into the wall behind me, the shock rattling through my bones. My gun clattered to the ground as I ducked under his follow-up punch, watching it obliterate a chunk of brick. His bloodied knuckles recoiled, giving me just enough of an opening. I closed the gap, driving a punch straight into his jaw. The impact jolted up my arm, but I didn’t stop. Swing after swing, I hammered into his neck, chest, and head, forcing him against the wall. Blood spattered from his mouth, and one of his eyes swelled shut as I kept going. But I was thrown off when a knee slammed into my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. Pain lanced through my ribs, a sickening crack echoing in my chest as I fell to one knee. Before I could recover, his heel smashed into my jaw, sending me sprawling across the ground. I spat out blood—and a tooth—as pain throbbed in my mouth. “…Shit,” I muttered, staggering to my feet, only to see him lunging again. I rolled to the side just as his fist came down, obliterating the concrete where I’d been lying. My heart sank when I turned to face him. His jaw—once bloodied and bruised—was now perfectly intact, as though the damage had never happened. A wicked smirk spread across his face. “Surprised?” he growled, his voice dripping with malice. Before I could respond, his hand shot out, wrapping around my throat like a vice. He lifted me clean off the ground and hurled me into the wall. My skull slammed against the unforgiving brick, and stars exploded in my vision. The world spun violently as my body slumped, dizziness threatening to swallow me whole. [[Get to your feet]] [[Crawl back]]

My vision swam as I slumped against the cold brick wall, the snow below me stained crimson with my blood. Every part of me screamed in pain—the cracked ribs, the burning ache in my jaw, the pounding throb at the back of my head—but I wasn’t done yet. I couldn’t be. I planted my hands against the icy ground, my fingers trembling as I struggled to push myself up. My arms wobbled under the weight, and for a second, I nearly collapsed back down. The man stood a few feet away, watching with a smug grin, his knuckles flexing as though eager for round two. His confidence made my blood boil. “Not… done,” I hissed through clenched teeth, spitting a wad of blood onto the ground. The red liquid melted into the snow staining it a dull red. I could taste the metallic after taste remunating in my mouth like a stain. My legs felt like lead, but I forced them to move. Slowly, shakily, I rose, bracing myself against the wall for support. The dizziness threatened to pull me back under, but I gritted my teeth and fought through it. The dull buzzing pain in the back of my head was looping on me, but gritting my teeth I forced my feet to hold down. “Persistent little pest, aren’t you?” he sneered, his tone mocking as he tilted his head. “Maybe you should just stay down and save yourself the trouble.” I wiped the blood from my mouth with the back of my sleeve, glaring at him. “You talk too much,” I growled, my voice hoarse but steady. I had to stoic myself what little of my energy remained all gathering in my arms ready to fight. This wasn’t over. Not yet. [[Grab rusty knife]] [[Grab brick]]

The world tilted dangerously as I pushed myself off the wall, each step feeling like I was wading through quicksand. My legs wobbled beneath me, barely holding my weight, and my breaths came in short, ragged gasps. The bitter cold bit into my skin, but the heat of adrenaline fought to keep me upright. I staggered backward, my boots crunching in the snow, leaving uneven tracks behind me. My hand instinctively clutched at my side, where the cracked rib throbbed with every breath. Each step felt like a gamble—would I fall, or would I keep going? My body was battered, but my mind screamed at me to stay alert. I felt my heart pumping like mad in my chest thinking I was on the brink of death. The adrenaline coursed through my head and eased the pain enough to balance. The man stalked toward me, his confidence radiating in the way he moved. His grin widened as he saw my condition, the predator savoring its wounded prey. What little of my body that wasnt injured held me up enough to walk. “What’s wrong?” he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. “Starting to regret sticking your nose where it didn’t belong?” I ignored him, focusing instead on steadying my balance. My hand brushed against the icy wall of the alley, using it as a crutch to keep me upright. I spat blood onto the ground, a defiant glare burning in my eyes as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. The sinking pulse in my hands numbed me enough to raise my fists combative to him. “Regret?” I croaked, my voice raw but steady enough. “Not even close.” I wasn’t done. Not by a long shot. [[Grab pipe]] [[Grab broken bottle]]

I stumbled back, my hand brushing against the ground in search of something—anything—that could even the odds. My fingers scraped against cold metal, rough edges, and jagged glass as my vision steadied just enough to see him charging at me. There was no time to hesitate. I grabbed hold of the first thing I could reach. The pipe was cold and heavy in my hands, rust flaking off as I gripped it tightly. As he closed the distance, I swung with all the strength I had left. The metal cracked against his shoulder with a sickening clang, sending him staggering to the side. He roared in pain, clutching at the fresh dent in his coat. I stepped forward, raising the pipe again for another blow, determined to put him down. I slid under his punch and slammed the pipe firmly into his gut causing him to recoil away from me in pain. I took the chance of a life time and diecided to abuse it, slamming the pipe with all of my remaining strenght into the back of his head with a pipe. Though somehow he was still standing as I for last time I lifted the pipe above my head as high as I could and with one final whip, I slammed the pipe into his head as hard as I could feeling the metal snap under the force of the swing. He dropped like a rock in a river and slammed into the ground, he was down for the count and it filled my chest with pride as it happened. The bastard thought he stood a chance but I still took him down a peg. I dropped the heavy broken object in my hand as it clattered to the ground I grabbed a wall to keep balanced with a small smirk. Damn did it feel good to something to a smug bastard. [[The Kid]]

I stumbled back, my hand brushing against the ground in search of something—anything—that could even the odds. My fingers scraped against cold metal, rough edges, and jagged glass as my vision steadied just enough to see him charging at me. There was no time to hesitate. I grabbed hold of the first thing I could reach. The jagged edges of the bottle sparkled in the dim light as I tightened my grip around its neck. My palm stung from gripping the sharp edges, but I didn’t care. When he lunged, I sidestepped and slashed upward, the glass ripping through his coat and scraping his skin. He yelped, blood trickling from the fresh cut. I pressed the attack, slashing again and forcing him back with desperate, wild swings. My grip tightened around the jagged neck of the broken bottle, the sharp edges biting into my palm as blood slicked my fingers. The man lunged at me again, his fist swinging wide, but I sidestepped, adrenaline driving my movements. With a desperate shout, I drove the glass into his side, feeling it sink through his coat and scrape against flesh. He howled, staggering back, clutching at the wound as crimson spread across the fabric. I didn’t stop—couldn’t stop. I swung again, slashing at his arm as he tried to shield himself, the glass catching skin and leaving a deep, ragged gash. combined with blood loss and the final blow it sent him colliding with the snowy pavement beneath him. he landed with a loud thud onto the snow, blood oozing from the stab wounds. it stained the snow a bright red, his blood a bright vibrant red compared to my own. I snickered to myself I looked over his fallen body and smirked with a bit of pride as I looked over his wounds. [[The Kid]]

I stumbled back, my hand brushing against the ground in search of something—anything—that could even the odds. My fingers scraped against cold metal, rough edges, and jagged glass as my vision steadied just enough to see him charging at me. There was no time to hesitate. I grabbed hold of the first thing I could reach. The knife felt awkward in my grip, its dull blade barely reflecting the light. Still, it was better than nothing. He lunged, and I ducked low, driving the rusty blade into his side. The impact wasn’t clean, the knife catching on fabric and flesh, but it was enough to make him recoil in pain. He snarled, gripping the wound as I pulled back, ready to strike again if he dared to come closer. Grabbing the handle of the blade I dodged just in time under his punch, knowing the blade would't be effective at cutting I did the one thing I hoped it could do. So I pivoted my hand on the handle and drove the rusty blade as deep as I could into his shoulder. I listened to the scream of bloody murder in his throat as he shoved me off, blood pouring like a waterfall from his shoulder. He shouted in agony and bumrushed me as fast as he could, but to his own fault he ran right into the blade. It pierced his chest and stabbed right through to his stomach. I shoved off of him and pulled my arm back and shot it into his jaw. combined with blood loss and the final blow it sent him colliding with the snowy pavement beneath him. he landed with a loud thud onto the snow, blood oozing from the stab wounds. it stained the snow a bright red, his blood a bright vibrant red compared to my own. I snickered to myself I looked over his fallen body and smirked with a bit of pride as I looked over his wounds. [[The Kid]]

I stumbled back, my hand brushing against the ground in search of something—anything—that could even the odds. My fingers scraped against cold metal, rough edges, and jagged glass as my vision steadied just enough to see him charging at me. There was no time to hesitate. I grabbed hold of the first thing I could reach. My hand closed around the rough, solid surface of the brick. It was heavy, and I knew it’d only take one well-placed hit to change the tide. As he charged, I swung upward with both hands, slamming the brick into his jaw. The force sent him stumbling backward, blood spraying from his split lip. He looked dazed, blinking as though trying to refocus. I didn’t give him the chance, stepping forward and smashing the brick down onto his shoulder. He shouted in pain as I heard the sickening crack of his shoulder watching the flesh buldge and mishapen as the bone was shoved out of place. I knew this was my chance I slammed the brick into the side of his face, watching as blood spewed from his busted lip. I watched his eyes haze over rapidly, knowing he was dizzied like me I close the gap and sucker punch him in the gut. I shoved him back and when he stumbled closer to me I whipped the brick against his temple knocking him firmly to the ground in one blow. He dropped like a rock in a river and slammed into the ground, he was down for the count and it filled my chest with pride as it happened. The bastard thought he stood a chance but I still took him down a peg. I dropped the heavy broken object in my hand as it clattered to the ground I grabbed a wall to keep balanced with a small smirk. Damn did it feel good to something to a smug bastard. [[The Kid]]

Welcome to Werewolf: The Apocalypse – Burning Fury The world as you knew it is gone, buried beneath the weight of greed, destruction, and blind ambition. The Wyrm, the great corrupter, slithers through the hearts of men and machines, spreading its poison across the earth. The forests burn. Rivers run black with decay. Cities rise like festering sores on Gaia’s skin, and the balance teeters on the brink of collapse. But you are not powerless. You are Garou, a warrior born of two worlds: the primal fury of the wolf and the fragile humanity of man. Within your blood lies the Rage, an untamed fire that surges through your veins, giving you strength beyond mortal limits. You are a protector, a predator, and a cursed soul bound to a dying earth. In Burning Fury, your choices will define your legacy. Will you fight to preserve the remnants of Gaia, striking out against the Wyrm and its agents of destruction? Or will the searing rage within consume you, leaving ruin in your wake? The path ahead is treacherous, full of danger, deception, and sacrifice. Prepare yourself, for the hunt has begun. The burning fury of the Apocalypse waits for no one. Will you rise as Gaia’s savior, or will the fire burn you away? (Please understand this is only a concept demo for the point and that they're might be spelling mistakes and it might be a tad bare bones for the moment but know that if the project is decent enough I'll consider refining the demo) [[Trigger warning]] [[Legal Disclaimer]] <<set $thymos = 0>> <<set $Roy = 0>> <<set $Lyra = 0>> <<set $Joeseph = 0>> <<set $memory = 0>>

[img[https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h-xrvtiDqh0/TUs6lqZZ7sI/AAAAAAAABuA/cJrQ85DJR_U/s1600/IMG_1375.JPG]] The pain in my chest felt like fire, every breath a sharp reminder of how much damage I’d taken. But somehow, I managed to keep myself upright long enough to turn and look at the kid. He was in better shape than me, at least—his arm bruised, his eye darkened, but he wasn’t broken. He’d survive. “Hey… you good?” I rasped, the words barely leaving my lips. Speaking hurt, but it felt necessary. “Y-yeah,” the kid stuttered, his voice shaky as he stared at the wall, his small frame trembling like a leaf in the wind. I forced my legs to carry me closer and dropped to one knee in front of him. My balance wavered, the world tilting as I struggled to hold myself steady. Reaching into the snow, I scooped up a handful and pressed it to his bruised arm. He flinched, letting out a soft hiss, but then took the snow from my hand and held it there himself. “You got any family?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady despite the stabbing pain in my ribs. He shook his head, his eyes fixed on the ground. “Guardians?” I tried again. This time, he hesitated before nodding slightly. Relief washed over me, faint but enough to push me forward. I fumbled into my pocket and pulled out my beat-up prepaid phone, pressing it into his trembling hands. “Call them. Tell them to come get you, as fast as they can.” I forced myself back onto my feet, the movement sending a fresh wave of pain through my battered body. As I turned to leave, a small hand gripped my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. “What about you?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. I exhaled, forcing down the pain, and gently rested my hand on his head. “For your sake,” I said, my tone soft but firm, “the faster you forget about me, the better.” Shrugging off my jacket, I draped it over his shoulders. It was too big for him, hanging awkwardly, but it’d keep him warm enough. I made sure to slip the money and other essentials into my pockets before standing straight. Each step away from him felt like walking against a hurricane, my body threatening to collapse with every movement. The cold bit through my thin long-sleeve, but I didn’t care. “Should’ve… worn my… swe—” The words didn’t even finish before the world spun, and my legs gave out. The icy pavement rose to meet me as exhaustion and pain finally took over, dragging me down into darkness. [[Abyss]]

[img[https://knowingfabric.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/12/best_fabrics_for_light_shade_paint.jpeg]] The cold darkness gnawed at my skin, every moment stretching into eternity as I drifted in the black void. My muscles felt like they were being forged into razor-sharp edges, each movement a cruel slice against my senses. Slowly, agonizingly, I forced my eyes open, only to be met with the suffocating weight of nothingness pressing in from all sides. My chest tightened, the pain constricting me like a vise, and each breath was a struggle, the air slithering down my throat like shards of ice carving their way in and out. A voice pierced the silence, smooth and venomous, curling around me like smoke. “Why do you bother?” it asked, the words dripping with disdain. I froze, the sound reverberating through the emptiness, seeping into my bones. My breath hitched, and I strained to see the source, but the void offered nothing—only the echo of that voice, taunting, waiting. [[To Live on]] [[To keep them safe]] [[To Take charge]]

The darkness pressed tighter, suffocating and unyielding, as I struggled against the weight crushing my chest. Every breath burned, a raw and desperate fight to draw air into my lungs. My fingers twitched, clenching into fists as I willed my body to move, to resist the pull of this black abyss. “Why do you bother?” the voice asked again, sharper this time, dripping with disdain and mockery. My eyes fluttered open, defiant, though the void offered no light or shape. “Because… I want to live,” I rasped, my voice cracking, raw from the effort. The words felt small at first, swallowed by the abyss, but they grew louder in my chest, fueled by a fire I thought had long burned out. “I want to live,” I said again, stronger this time, teeth clenched against the pain, the fear. My body felt heavy, broken, but that fire—weak and flickering—refused to die. It was a reminder that I wasn’t done yet, not here, not like this. Whatever the darkness was, whatever it wanted, it couldn’t have me. Not now. <<set $personality to "Survivor">> [[The Truth]]

The crushing void pressed tighter, threatening to squeeze the life out of me. Every breath clawed its way into my lungs, raw and ragged, as the cold gnawed at my skin and pulled at my thoughts. My chest ached, my body screamed, but I refused to let the weight consume me. “Why do you bother?” the voice asked again, low and taunting, dripping with disdain. I forced my head up, though my limbs trembled with effort, my voice cracking as I answered, “Because… someone has to.” The void seemed to hold its breath, waiting, and I pushed through the suffocating pain, my words gaining strength. “If I give up… if I fall here… then who’s left to protect the ones who can’t fight back? I’ve seen what happens when no one stands up. I won’t let it happen again.” The fire in my chest pushed back against the cold, every word igniting it further. “I do this to keep them safe. To make sure no one else has to feel what I’ve felt. That’s why I bother. That’s why I fight.” The silence stretched, but I held firm, daring the voice to challenge me. <<set $personality to "Guardian">> [[The Truth]]

The suffocating blackness gripped me, tightening its hold with every labored breath. Pain lanced through my chest, and my muscles felt like they were being carved into raw, jagged edges. My vision blurred, the void closing in, but still, I refused to let go. “Why do you bother?” the voice hissed, cutting through the emptiness like a blade. I ground my teeth, forcing myself upright—or what felt like upright in this formless space. My lips curled into a snarl, and I spat back into the void, defiant, “Because if this is the cost of my life, then I’ll charge on it.” My voice echoed, carrying a fire that I refused to let the darkness snuff out. I clenched my fists, every fiber of my being burning with resolve. “You want my life? Then you’ll pay for every step I take, every breath I fight for. If I’m going down, it’ll be in flames, not shadows.” The darkness seemed to recoil for a moment, and I pushed forward, unrelenting. “I’m not finished, and I’ll burn every inch of this void if I have to.” <<set $personality to "Leader">> [[The Truth]]

The abyss swirled violently, the darkness rippling with every bitter word exchanged between us. His voice carried the weight of something long buried, regret etched into every syllable. "So you still cling to what happened that night," he growled, his tone raw and accusatory, "like a child clutching at the scraps of their innocence. I can’t blame you, though. You were only a child when it happened." His voice seemed to echo from all directions, the blackness twisting around his words. "Shut up!" I snapped, the weight in my chest exploding into rage. Air burned as it clawed its way into my lungs. My fists clenched as I lunged forward, clawing at the void, his voice taunting me from somewhere just out of reach. "You never did anything! You locked yourself away while I buried myself in bottles, drowning alone because no one—not even you—offered me help! I was a kid with burn scars and no answers! What was I supposed to do?!" My screams echoed, shaking the formless space as I felt the suffocating pain tighten in my throat. His voice came back, colder this time, slicing through my outburst. "...You wouldn’t talk to me, either," he retorted, and the words hit like a blow. My chest heaved, and my hands began to tremble, the rage in me giving way to the old, familiar ache. I squeezed my eyes shut as guilt surged, tears slipping free despite myself. "I couldn’t," I whispered, my voice cracking under the weight of my admission. "You looked at me like I was a monster. Like it was all my fault. And maybe it was. She gave up everything for me, and now she’s gone. Do you think I don’t live with that every second? Do you think I don’t regret it?" The abyss stilled for a moment, his voice softer now, almost breaking. "It wasn’t your fault. She was my wife. I loved her too. Do you think I don’t regret every second of that night? Do you think I don’t wish I could’ve saved her… or you?" I felt the weight of a hand settle gently on my shoulder. His touch burned, but not with malice—with something warmer, something aching. "She was the happiest I’d ever seen her when you came into this world," he continued, his voice thick with emotion. "And if there’s one thing I know, it’s that she’d want me to tell you this: you are stronger than you think. I wish I could be there to guide you through what’s coming, but you need to keep moving." [img[https://img.freepik.com/premium-photo/fiery-eruption-flames-against-black-abyss-generative-ai_431161-19995.jpg]] The blackness around me shifted, heat rising in waves, consuming the grime and sorrow that had weighed me down for so long. My feet found the soft, cool swaying of grass beneath them, the void peeling away to reveal a world that felt sharper, clearer. The cool Air contrasted by the blazing red flames dancing all around me. [[Look into the Flames]]

[img[https://img.freepik.com/premium-photo/fiery-eruption-flames-against-black-abyss-generative-ai_431161-19995.jpg]] My eyes locked firmly into the flames starring far past the flaes but seeing the truth. I see the hundreds of legs crawling on the burnt ashes on the ground. It's antenna curved into the ground feeling its way through the flames and stopping just at the edge as it reaching out to feel for something. "You don't scare me!" I shout into the smoke as I stare down the insect like being. ".... Why would I wish to scare one of my newest destined." the broken voice clicked back at me with an almost sadistic pride. "You think you can use me? Tough shit I'm still here and I'm still at the wheel!" I howl backat him. "Child, you pitiful thing you are so scared of my flames you have yet to realize that they only burn away the lies you so desperately cling to~" It spoke back to me as it's body lifted into the air as I could see the hundreds of small little red legs under it's bright red shell. "The hell are you talking about?" I growl confused. "Oh? So that's what you are..... hahahah, this will be interesting. Do me a favor warrior say it~" [[Speak]]

<<if $personality is "Survivor">> You’ve always been defined by your resilience, your ability to adapt and endure no matter the odds. The path ahead is grueling, but for someone like you, it's just another battle to overcome. [[Survivor Path]] <<elseif $personality is "Leader">> Leadership comes naturally to you, and even in the chaos, others look to you for guidance. This path will test your ability to inspire and rally others to the cause. [[Leader Path]] <<elseif $personality is "Guardian">> Protecting others is your purpose. The road ahead will push you to make sacrifices, putting the safety of others above your own well-being. [[Guardian Path]] <</if>>

<<if $nature is "sacrificial">> I have a goal I wish to achieve. I know there will be hell to pay if I go through with this, but no matter what the price is, I'll pay it and move forward no matter what. [[Bone Gnawers]] <<elseif $nature is "Protective">> I have to protect everyone, no matter what I have to do. The protection and safety of others is all that will ever matter to me in the end. [[Glass Walkers]] <<elseif $nature is "Aggressive">> Anger is my tool and will forever be a weapon at my disposal which I shall use to protect and guard those I love. So long as I rage, my body will endure. [[Silent Strider]] <</if>>

<<if $nature is "sacrificial">> I have a goal I wish to achieve. I know there will be hell to pay if I go through with this, but no matter what the price is, I'll pay it and move forward no matter what. [[Children of Gaia]] <<elseif $nature is "Protective">> I have to protect everyone, no matter what I have to do. The protection and safety of others is all that will ever matter to me in the end. [[Black Furies]] <<elseif $nature is "Aggressive">> Anger is my tool and will forever be a weapon at my disposal which I shall use to protect and guard those I love. So long as I rage, my body will endure. [[Hart Warden]] <</if>>

<<if $nature is "sacrificial">> I have a goal I wish to achieve. I know there will be hell to pay if I go through with this, but no matter what the price is, I'll pay it and move forward no matter what. [[Silver Fangs]] <<elseif $nature is "Protective">> I have to protect everyone, no matter what I have to do. The protection and safety of others is all that will ever matter to me in the end. [[Shadow Lords]] <<elseif $nature is "Aggressive">> Anger is my tool and will forever be a weapon at my disposal which I shall use to protect and guard those I love. So long as I rage, my body will endure. [[Gale Stalker]] <</if>>

As a member of the Children of Gaia, you are a beacon of peace and unity in a world ravaged by war and destruction. Your tribe believes in healing the wounds of the world, standing against injustice, and fostering harmony between humans, Garou, and the spirit realm. But your idealism does not make you weak—you are fierce in protecting those who cannot defend themselves. Compassion is your weapon, and mercy is your shield, but when peace fails, your fury is unmatched. [img[https://i.pinimg.com/736x/60/ff/dc/60ffdc7e7715482c5b795ed66437b1a9.jpg]] [[Waking World]] <<set $tribe to "Children of Gaia">>

The Black Furies are warriors of vengeance, protectors of the oppressed, and the fierce avatars of Gaia’s fury. If this is your tribe, you are a defender of the downtrodden, especially women and children, and you fight with an unyielding sense of justice. The Furies are deeply spiritual, drawing strength from the ancient wisdom of their ancestors and their sacred connection to nature. Your rage is not reckless but calculated, a controlled storm unleashed when no other recourse remains. [img[https://i.pinimg.com/736x/4d/35/b5/4d35b5da0884d09687351fa45da4f0fa.jpg]] https://i.pinimg.com/736x/4d/35/b5/4d35b5da0884d09687351fa45da4f0fa.jpg [[Waking World]] <<set $tribe to "Black Fury">>

The Hart Wardens are guardians of nature, dedicated to preserving remote or sacred places, from hidden forests to important cultural sites like farms or caerns. With a deep passion for nurturing and revitalizing the land, they transform even small spaces into thriving ecosystems. As a Hart Warden, you would feel a strong connection to the earth, finding purpose in restoring balance and protecting the places you care for. Their gatherings often celebrate the history and traditions of their tribe and the Garou, blending mythmaking with the care they show for the world around them. [img[https://i.pinimg.com/736x/6b/da/d5/6bdad592039546bfc23be0172a883f66.jpg]] [[Waking World]] <<set $tribe to "Hart Warden">>

As a member of the Glass Walkers, you’re a modern werewolf, finding harmony between the old ways and the technological marvels of the new world. Your tribe is known for its cunning use of technology, urban influence, and strategic thinking. You’ve embraced humanity’s advancements, understanding that tools and innovation can be as powerful as tooth and claw. But this balance isn’t without its struggles—your loyalty to the spirit world constantly collides with your place in modernity. [img[https://i.pinimg.com/736x/d7/8a/1d/d78a1db497d91b718aa29f87091ac3e4.jpg]] [[Waking World]] <<set $tribe to "Glass Walker">>

The Silent Striders are wanderers, exiles of the spirit realm who carry a deep longing for connection. If this is your tribe, you feel the pull of the road beneath your feet, the urge to keep moving, and the weight of ancient secrets on your shoulders. Your kind often walks alone, guided by visions and whispers from beyond. You bring warnings and wisdom to those you meet, your presence a fleeting but unforgettable moment in their lives. [imghttps://i.pinimg.com/736x/29/c7/cc/29c7ccc984a5d323d6985eada9079870.jpg]] [[Waking World]] <<set $tribe to "Silent Strider">>

As a Silver Fang, you are part of the noble bloodline that has long ruled the Garou Nation. You bear the weight of leadership, with your every action scrutinized as an example for others to follow. Your tribe reveres tradition and ancestral wisdom, believing that you are Gaia’s chosen to guide and protect. However, the Silver Fangs' pride and obsession with purity have left them vulnerable to decay and madness, making your journey a fight not only for survival but to restore your tribe’s glory. [img[https://i.pinimg.com/736x/43/65/53/436553d3623f54d0c8c5e5a55958bb4d.jpg]] [[Waking World]] <<set $tribe to "Silver Fang">>

If you are a Shadow Lord, you are a master of strategy and ambition, willing to do what others cannot for the greater good—or for your own rise to power. Your tribe values cunning and dominance, and you know how to manipulate allies and enemies alike to achieve your goals. Though often mistrusted, Shadow Lords see themselves as Gaia’s enforcers, delivering justice where others fail. But the line between justice and tyranny is thin, and your choices will decide if you become a savior or a monster. [img[https://i.pinimg.com/736x/94/4f/40/944f40324b0c5bd29c3d43bd043bd8a8.jpg]] [[Waking World]] <<set $tribe to "Shadow Lordr">>

The Gale Stalkers are relentless hunters and predators of the storm, harnessing the power of the wind and sky to strike with precision and ferocity. If this is your tribe, you embody the untamed fury of nature, stalking your prey with deadly cunning and unmatched speed. Your connection to the elements is a weapon, making you a lethal force in defense of Gaia’s wilds. The Gale Stalkers value adaptability and feral instinct, driven by an unyielding loyalty to the hunt and their packmates. [img[https://i.pinimg.com/736x/16/97/4c/16974ce2d6f01a6e609eeb1bd2b3ff7a.jpg]] [[Waking World]] <<set $tribe to "Gale Stalker">>

The creature’s cracked, alien voice resonated like shards of glass against my ears. “There you are, Garou. Such a gorgeous $gender $tribe you are. It’s rare to see someone of your origins here. And yet, I must ask—do you truly have no idea of your nature?” I blinked at the creature, confusion swirling in my mind like a storm. Its form was indistinct, flickering between something tangible and something pulled straight out of a nightmare. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. What’s a Garou?” I snapped, frustration lacing my tone as I stepped forward, facing whatever semblance of a gaze this thing had. The terms it threw out meant nothing to me, just more riddles in the maze my life had become. The spirit seemed unfazed, almost amused. “You hold such potential for one so inexperienced. It blooms inside you, untamed, waiting. I pray it blossoms before the storm arrives. A fate, child, that will test every fiber of what you are.” Its words coiled in my chest like a cold knife, but before I could respond, the creature scuttled backward, its many legs clicking against the ground as it retreated into the inferno of twisting flames behind it. The fire blazed higher and fiercer, an endless sea of crimson and orange swallowing its body until it was nothing but a ripple in the spiraling chaos. “Shit... not again,” I growled, panic rising as I watched the flames surge. I braced for the inevitable burning heat, instinctively throwing my arms up to shield my face. But instead of scorching pain, an icy, jagged chill shot through me, piercing my very core. It gripped my heart like iron claws, tearing through it with a raw agony that stole my breath. My knees buckled under the weight of the pain, and I collapsed to the ground, trembling as bolts of fire and ice exploded along my nerves. Darkness swirled in the corners of my vision, and the world tilted as I fell, drowning in the strange, frigid torment that consumed me. [[Wake Up]]

I jolted upright in the unfamiliar bed, the sudden motion sending sharp pain lancing through my side. A yelp escaped me as I dropped back onto the mattress, the dull ache in my ribs flaring angrily before ebbing back into a persistent, numbing throb. The warm air from a fire somewhere nearby bathed my skin, soothing in contrast to the ache radiating through my body. [img[https://thumbs.dreamstime.com/b/bedroom-bed-light-night-lamp-illuminated-dimly-lit-140218278.jpg]] "Son of a—" I hissed, clutching my stomach, the pain grounding me in this strange, quiet room. My eyes darted around, taking in the soft glow of firelight reflecting off well-stocked bookshelves and the crackling hearth set into one wall. The flickering light danced across the room, casting long, shifting shadows over the wooden furniture and rustic decor. I growled to myself as I threw the blankets off my chest and gingerly propped myself up on my arms. The faint protest of my strained muscles made every movement deliberate. Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I let my feet touch the thick carpet below, the fibers cushioning the weight of my unsteady steps as I rose. Each motion felt like a test of will as I shuffled toward the fire. The heat beckoned me, and I couldn’t resist sinking down beside the hearth, leaning my shoulder against the warm brick. For a moment, the crackling flames eased the tension in my chest, the agony giving way to a heavy, irresistible weariness. "Warm..." I murmured, eyes half-lidded as a yawn slipped past my lips. But as comfort started to claim me, a jolt of clarity struck, cutting through the haze. Bed. Fire. Bandages. None of this was mine. I pushed myself upright with a start, gritting my teeth as my battered body protested. I owned a busted up tent lined with duct tape on the underside of an overpass hidden in a corner in a homeless camp, not a rich mid century ranch house. Where the hell was I? Ignoring the fire’s soothing warmth, I stumbled to the door and grasped the handle. The wood creaked faintly as the door swung open, revealing a dimly lit hallway lined with wooden walls and fixtures that seemed plucked straight out of a country homestead. Old-fashioned lamp posts with modern bulbs cast a faint orange glow along the corridor. It was a strangly comforting thing to watch with how low the lights where, just barely bright enough to be noticeable but still there to make sight clearer. I hobbled forward, every step sending a fresh wave of discomfort rippling through my ribs and legs. My pulse quickened as I followed the hallway to its end, where it opened into a spacious living room. The sight before me was disarmingly serene—a large, plush armchair sat near another fire, a faux fur rug spread beneath it. Animal paintings adorned the walls, giving the room a rustic charm, and on a small tray table next to the chair sat a steaming mug of coffee, the fragrant aroma mingling with the smoky warmth of the fire. My eyes locked onto the flames as if it was one of the paintings watching the flames dance back and forth. [[Walk Around]]

[img[https://heliovolt.net/wp-content/uploads/2019/07/room-932321_1920.jpg]] I gently tiptoed over to the chair, listening for any sounds that were distinctly human, but outside the gentle cracking of the fire, I heard nothing but the breeze whispering past my shoulders. It was a pleasant feeling—no billowing wind screaming in my ears as a blizzard raged outside my tent. My palms stung in agony as I desperately attempted to hold up the fabric walls that failed to keep me warm. Just solid walls around me now, with nothing but warmth filling the room—a safe haven from the danger I was so used to. I fell to my knees, exhausted, landing on my palms once again in front of the flames as I lay on my side. The pain in my gut stung harshly, but it was drowned out by the sheer pleasure I felt from the warmth of the flames ahead of me—the orange and red pillars of heat dancing in spires of inferno for my survival. Such a lavish feeling crawled under my skin as the warmth dazed over me and drudged up the heartbeat in my chest, making it actually feel nice for once. "Why..." I murmured aloud as I lay on the rug, fingers skirting through the plush fabric, feeling every soft fiber beneath my nails. Why was this a feeling I never knew—or at least a feeling that felt so distant to me? The last thing that felt like this was the nights I spent with my mother, curled up in a mountain of blankets as we watched the moon from the window in my room. So many sleepless nights I spent embraced in my mother’s grasp as a child, pondering why I was alive until I fell asleep in her arms. "...Mom..." I whispered into the air as, for a faint second, I felt warm tears stream down my face. I remembered her warmth, the way she always smelled like vanilla and burnt coffee. Such menial things to remember, yet to me, they were the most important things in the world. I missed her so much that simply being around a fire aroused the memories of her within me? I knew I was wrong about it—that it was horrible letting myself feel like nothing had ever happened—but for just this once, it'd be nice. No guilt, no past of thorns. Just the nostalgia flowing through me like a painkiller, easing my mind into a numb state enough for me to close my eyes. "Getting comfortable on my rug now?" I heard the voice ring out behind me. [[Bolt Up]]

I jolted up from the rug, my eyes sharpening to razor blades as I backed into the cold brick wall, my hand instinctively darting to my hip as if my gun were still there. My heart slammed in my chest, a wild drumbeat of fear and adrenaline. My gaze shot to the older man in the room. His worn eyes gleamed a soft gold, framed by a scratchy brown beard that accentuated his sharp jawline and thick neck. He wore a simple gray button-down and jeans, his presence commanding despite the plain attire. "For a guest, you seem awfully high-strung," he mused, his voice calm yet edged with amusement. "But if the wall's comfortable, I won't stop you." He moved deliberately, his sharp eyes never leaving mine as he sank into a worn armchair. The chair groaned under his weight, the sound as tense as the air between us. His gaze locked onto mine, steady and assessing, while my heart thundered as I struggled to suppress the primal urge to flee or fight. "Who are you? Where am I?" I growled, my gravelly voice breaking through the quiet tension. My fists clenched as I forced myself to hold his gaze. He closed his eyes briefly, exhaling slowly as if gathering his patience. "Two days ago, you came across a young man being attacked. You fought the assailant and saved him. Then you told him to call his guardian—which, incidentally, is me." His tone was measured, with a faint hint of sarcasm. "When I arrived, I found you broken and half-dead in the snow. Forgive me for taking the liberty of saving your life." I narrowed my eyes. "Why would you save me?" My voice was sharp, distrustful. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze hardening. "Do I need to explain? It would be dishonorable to let my nephew's savior die like a stray dog in the cold." His words cut, his tone making my desperate actions sound like reckless folly. I pushed myself up to my feet, the pain shooting through my legs like fire. My knees wobbled, threatening to buckle, but I steadied myself against the wall. The man watched me silently, lifting a steaming mug of coffee to his lips, as if this whole exchange was no more than a passing annoyance. [[Figure Out]]

"Where am I?" I repeated, my voice sharper, carrying the weight of my unease. The old man rolled his eyes, leaning back into the chair. "You're in my home. Still in Green Mill, so no need to worry," he replied casually. He reached into the drawer beside him and pulled out a small bag, tossing it to the floor in front of me. "Though I have to say, it's rather strange for someone living under a highway overpass to be carrying nearly ten grand in cash." My breath caught, and my hand darted to the bag. "You went through my stuff," I murmured, pulling out the thick wad of cash. I thumbed through it, my eyes scanning every bill. "No need to stress," he said, waving a dismissive hand. "I have no interest in dirty money." The cash was all there—every dollar. He hadn’t taken a thing. Still, his words stung as I shoved the money back into the bag. "I'm more curious," he continued, his tone probing, "why someone with that much cash calls a highway underpass home." I glared at him, the anger bubbling up in my chest. "It's none of your business what I do," I snapped, pulling out my jacket. The sight of it stopped me short—it was repaired. No holes, no frayed edges. He’d patched it up. The man chuckled softly, the sound dry and unimpressed. "Fair enough," he said, leaning forward slightly. "But now, the only thing I really want to know is this: why did you save my nephew?" His words hit me like a hammer to the chest, but it was the name that followed that shattered me. "River." I froze, my blood running cold as he spoke my name—the name I hadn't heard in nearly a decade. My hands shook as I stared at him, fear knotting in my stomach. "How... how do you know that?" I stammered, taking a step back. My feet fumbled beneath me, my balance faltering. "I buried that name. Burned it! I left it behind years ago!" He tilted his head, his golden eyes taking on an eerie glow. There was something sharp, something dangerous, lurking in his gaze. "It wasn’t hard to find," he said bluntly. "Your blood was enough." The words hit like a punch. My breath caught, my chest tightening as I processed his meaning. He had tested my blood—used it to uncover a past I’d desperately tried to erase. "It took some digging," he continued, his tone casual, but his expression betrayed something darker. "For a nineteen-year-old, you've done a remarkable job staying hidden. It’s almost like you vanished into thin air. But no one truly disappears." He smiled then—a twisted, unsettling grin that made my stomach churn. "What do you want from me?!" I shouted, my voice raw with fear and anger. His smug demeanor faltered, his smile slipping into confusion. "I only wanted to know who you were," he said, as if that was enough to justify this invasion. He stood, stepping toward me. "Stay back!" I shouted, stumbling as I tried to retreat. My legs betrayed me, and I tripped, hitting the floor hard. [[Back Up]]

I closed my eyes tightly, curling in on myself, trembling as fear took hold. My hands shielded my face, desperate to block out the world. My breathing hitched, shallow and frantic, as I braced for... something, anything. Then, unexpectedly, a gentle hand rested on my shoulder. The touch was soft, warm—completely out of place in the storm of my panic. Slowly, his voice broke through the chaos in my head. "I'm sorry," the man said, his tone low and steady. I hesitated, peeking through the gap in my fingers. His expression was calm, no longer filled with the unsettling pride or danger I had seen before. There was no malice, just a quiet sincerity in his eyes. My arms fell to my sides, though my muscles still tensed from lingering fear. "I didn’t mean to frighten you," he continued. "When you were unconscious, the doctors ran tests to ensure you’d survive. Your identity came up. I only pursued what they uncovered on my own." He paused, his gaze steady. "I genuinely apologize for crossing a line." He turned, stepping back to the drawer. From it, he retrieved something else—a small, familiar object. He held it carefully in his hand before returning to me. "I found this on you," he said quietly, placing the worn leather book into my trembling hands. [img[https://heliovolt.net/wp-content/uploads/2019/07/room-932321_1920.jpg]] The journal’s weight was grounding. His fingers lingered briefly over mine as he gently closed my hands around it. I looked up at him, searching his face for any signs of deception. He only met my gaze and, without a word, helped me to my feet. As we stood together, he stepped back and gestured toward the table. "Coffee?" I blinked, still dazed, as he handed me a small porcelain cup balanced on a saucer. The dark liquid within carried a rich, bitter aroma that curled up into my nose. Tentatively, I lifted the cup to my lips, taking a sip. The flavor was surprisingly smooth, faintly sweet, and oddly comforting. Exhaling deeply, I let the tension in my shoulders ease and found myself moving to sit in a chair across from him. The old wood groaned beneath me, but I barely noticed. Setting the cup on the table, I stared across at him, taking in every detail of the man who had brought me here and peeled back pieces of my past. For the first time since waking, I allowed myself a moment to breathe. [[The Boy]]

My mind drifted back to the boy I had shielded with my body just days ago—apparently saved from far more than a schoolyard bully. The memory gnawed at me, leading me to finally break the silence. "You said you were the kid's uncle. If you don't mind me asking, what's his name?" I asked, my voice carrying a trace of cautious curiosity. The man perked up slightly. "My nephew? His name's Gavin," he replied without hesitation. "Still young—only nine years old. I’ve been his guardian since he was six. It’s been a few years now, but... well, you know how it is," he said, his words trailing off as his gaze drifted to the side, shadowed with concern. I frowned. "Where are his parents?" I asked, though part of me already knew the answer, my gut twisting with the weight of it before he even spoke. The man’s shoulders sagged slightly as he exhaled. "They’re gone. My brother, Gavin’s father, died on assignment years ago. His mother..." He hesitated, but then pressed on. "She’s been out of the picture for a long time. It’s just the two of us now." He shook his head, the remorse in his eyes as real as the grief in his voice. "I took him in before they could shuffle him into the foster system. Gavin wouldn’t last a week in a place like that... especially the way he is now." There was something in his tone, something heavier than grief. But my thoughts skipped forward, latching onto something else. "The man I fought off—he seemed to know Gavin," I said, piecing together the scraps of memory. "He said something about being after... a fetish?" The man stiffened. A flicker of anger crossed his face, deepening into a visible scowl as his jaw tightened. "Leon," he spat. "A bastard from my early adult years. He thinks he’s untouchable, able to order the cubs—kids, I mean—around like pawns for the filthy tasks he’s assigned." His voice grew sharper, anger threading through his words like steel. "Wait," I interrupted, confused. "You know him? Then why was he anywhere near Gavin in the first place?" The man growled softly, his hands curling into fists. "Because I didn’t know what Leon had turned into. I thought he was just preparing the kids... helping them grow into what they needed to be. I never imagined..." [[Prepping for What]]

"You make it sound like he’s some kind of instructor or trainer," I pressed, narrowing my eyes at him. "What exactly are you talking about? You keep making these references, but you’re dodging the point." The man shifted uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze. His hands clenched slightly before he let out a reluctant sigh. "…We’re part of…" He paused, clearly scrambling for the right words. "Well, it’s hard to explain, but… we’re a military family. The kids in the area are part of a private schooling program." His words felt hollow, his delivery stiff and unconvincing. It was clear he wasn’t telling the full story, but I could tell from the way his jaw tightened that pressing further wouldn’t get me anywhere. He didn’t want to talk about it, and I wasn’t in a position to force him to. "Fine," I muttered, letting the topic drop. "At least now you can kick him out or whatever. That guy’s been taken down a peg, and that’s what matters, right?" The man nodded, a faint glimmer of agreement softening the tension in his face. "It’s a start in the right direction. Gavin, at least, will never go near him again. Poor boy… he’s fragile enough as it is." His gaze drifted down the hall, lingering as if pulled by an invisible tether. "Speaking of the devil, Gavin’s still asleep, and it’s almost noon. Would you mind waking him? He’s just down the hall on the left. I need to dredge up something for us to eat." [img[https://i.pinimg.com/originals/89/09/e1/8909e1c303e31fcd05c2a32ae4eee686.jpg]] I blinked, caught a little off guard by the sudden shift and his casual request. But I nodded. "Yeah, sure. I can do that." Standing, I stretched my still-sore limbs before padding softly down the hallway. As I turned left, I stopped in front of a door adorned with a simple wooden sign. Its surface was etched and burned with care, the edges smoothed as if someone had put time and love into crafting it. I hesitated, hand hovering over the doorknob. For some reason, this felt heavier than it should have, like opening this door meant stepping into something far bigger than I was prepared for. But I pushed the thought aside, exhaling as I finally turned the knob. [["Gavin's room"]]

[img[https://generations.krea.ai/images/213d260d-aca7-40d6-9fd1-b553c0d94a4a.png]] The door creaked open further as I stepped into the dim room. The drawn blinds filtered the faintest slivers of light, casting muted streaks across the shelves and the floor. My eyes adjusted quickly, taking in the scattered wooden toys, the jumbled crayons dulled from use, and the disarray of a child’s quiet sanctuary. Among the clutter, something caught my attention—a singular photo resting against the edge of the shelf. It was a picture of a newborn baby cradled in the arms of a young woman. She couldn’t have been older than twenty. Her face was pale and tired, the wear of childbirth clear in her soft features, but her expression radiated warmth, love, and an affection so raw that it made something in my chest tighten. "That’s Mom. Before she left." The sudden voice made me startle slightly, turning to see Gavin sitting up in bed, his small frame propped against the headboard. His gaze flickered toward the photo, and though his voice was steady, there was a heaviness in it that seemed too much for someone his age to carry. "That’s the only photo of us we have in the house," he added, his eyes fixed on the image. "Everything else is gone. Uncle Monroe says she left just days after I was born." I scowled slightly, placing the photo back down on the shelf carefully, almost reverently. "I’m glad to see you’re awake, though," Gavin continued, his tone soft and shy. "I was scared when you didn’t wake up out there." I moved to sit on the edge of his bed, meeting his gaze. "Do you know her name?" "Maria," he said with a faint smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "Uncle Monroe told me. She had me weeks after her twentieth birthday. I don’t remember much about her… just that name." I glanced down at my bandaged arm, tracing the rough scar with my fingers. It brought back memories I’d buried deep, the kind that refused to fade even when I wanted them to. "I doubt it’s much consolation," I said after a moment, my voice softer than usual, "but I lost my mom when I was about your age, too. She died in a fire. I… I can’t even remember her name." The words hung in the air like a weight as Gavin’s wide eyes fixed on me. For the first time, I saw a flicker of understanding cross his face—a shared loss that neither of us could fully express. "So, I guess we have more in common than I realized," I added, forcing a faint, humorless smile. Gavin was quiet for a moment, his small hands gripping the blanket draped over him. Then he looked up at me, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why are you homeless?" He said aloud leaving me stunned in silence. [[Explain]] [[Remain quiet]]

"You heard that?" I asked, my voice quieter than I intended. Gavin nodded, his gaze unwavering. Leaning back against the bedpost, I let out a long sigh. This kid had already been through too much; keeping my guard up didn’t seem fair. “Alright, I guess you can know,” I said, my voice somber. “I don’t have anywhere to live. Never really have in the past few years. The streets are just… easier for me. Being alone—it’s the only world I’ve known for a while now.” “But why do you want to be alone?” Gavin asked, his voice soft but piercing. “Isn’t it lonely?” The second question hit me harder than I expected. I shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through my hair as I tried to find the right words. “Agh… Well… When my mom passed, I lost everything. Connections with people, my family, myself—everything. I shut people out because it hurt too much to let anyone back in. Being lonely felt… safer. Like I could control the pain.” “But doesn’t being with people you care about help you grieve?” Gavin pressed, his wide eyes searching mine for an answer. I hesitated, looking down at the bandages on my hands as the weight of his question settled over me. “Yeah, it does,” I admitted, my voice barely audible. “But for people like me… guilt feels like the end of the world. And sometimes, when you’re carrying that weight, the only way to cope is to fall off the face of the earth. It doesn’t make it better—it’s just the only way you know how to survive.” The room was quiet for a moment, the only sound the faint creak of the old house settling. Then, without warning, Gavin scooted closer and rested his head gently on my shoulder. “I don’t think anyone should be alone,” he murmured into my arm, his brown hair falling over his eyes as he yawned. “It already feels bad just being a person sometimes. You shouldn’t make it worse by staying alone because of guilt.” I blinked, caught off guard by his words. A faint chuckle escaped me, soft and genuine. “Hah… You know, you’re smarter than your uncle gives you credit for,” I said, meeting his gaze. For a moment, I could see something in his eyes—kindness, wisdom beyond his years, and an innocence I hadn’t seen in a long time. [[Lunch Time]]

"You heard that?" I asked, glancing at Gavin. He nodded silently, his eyes wide and curious. I shifted awkwardly, leaning back against the bedpost as I scratched the back of my neck. “Uh, well… I mean, it’s complicated, kid.” “Why don’t you have a place to live?” Gavin asked, tilting his head. His voice wasn’t judgmental, just genuinely curious, which somehow made it harder to answer. I fumbled for a response, avoiding his gaze. “Uh… well… it’s not really that simple. Life just kinda… you know, doesn’t always go the way you want it to.” I waved my hand vaguely, as if that would somehow explain the years of chaos. “But don’t you get lonely?” Gavin pressed, his brow furrowing. I let out a nervous chuckle, glancing at the shelf lined with his wooden toys and scattered crayons. “Lonely? Me? Nah, I’ve got... uh, the stars to keep me company,” I said, pointing vaguely upward. “And, you know, stray cats. They’re great listeners.” Gavin gave me a skeptical look, crossing his arms as he studied me. “Stray cats don’t count.” “Sure they do!” I countered, trying to sound convincing. “Some of them even let me pet them. Well, once or twice. The rest just hiss at me, but hey, it’s something.” He rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You’re weird.” “Thanks, kid. I try,” I said with a sheepish grin, relieved the conversation had shifted. Without warning, Gavin leaned against me, resting his head on my shoulder. “You’re still weird, but I don’t think anyone should be alone. Even if they like cats.” "Now come on, your uncle wants you up and ready for lunch." I said as I propped up onto my feet. [[Lunch Time]]

I opened the door a moment later to find Gavin already dressed, sporting a hoodie and jeans. He popped out of his closet and strolled over to me, a little wobble in his step. “Happy now?” I asked, a slight snicker in my voice as I watched him steady himself. He nodded, determined, and started down the hall. I followed close behind, letting him set the pace. As we walked, I couldn’t help but let my curiosity slip. “So… what’s the deal with your uncle? He’s a little… uh, odd?” Gavin stopped in his tracks and looked back at me. “Uncle Monroe? Well… it makes sense. He can’t exactly tell normal people everything—most of you aren’t aware of our families.” There it was again, that secrecy. It was starting to feel like I was the only one in the dark. “You make it sound like your whole family is in the FBI or something,” I growled, frustration slipping into my tone. Gavin’s expression shifted, guilt flashing across his face. I immediately backtracked. “I mean, it’s not an issue or anything—it’s just kinda confusing is all.” He hesitated before speaking, his voice quieter now. “I mean… have you ever heard of… Garou?” That word hit me like a lightning strike. For a moment, my vision blurred, and a flash of fire erupted in my mind. My heart slammed against my ribs, and I stumbled, catching myself on the wall. “Are you okay?” Gavin asked, his small hand reaching out to steady me. I shook my head to clear it, forcing a reassuring nod. “Yeah… yeah, I’m fine. And no, I’ve never heard of it. What is it?” “That’s the thing,” he said, pulling his hand back hesitantly. “If you did know, I could explain. But if you don’t, I’m… not allowed to tell you.” Great. More puzzles I didn’t have the pieces for. Gavin must’ve caught the frustrated look on my face because he scrambled ahead down the hall before I could ask anything else. I followed shortly after, still puzzling over what the hell was going on. When I entered the kitchen, Monroe was standing by the counter, dishing up food onto three plates while Gavin set them on the table. “You’re having me eat with you?” I asked as I approached, my hand finding the back of a chair. “Of course,” Monroe replied without looking up. “You’re still injured. I can’t have my nephew’s savior going hungry, now can I?” [[pull the chair]]

[img[https://foter.com/photos/341/extending-dining-table-seats-10.jpg]] "So... what am I eating?" I popped the question into the open air. I pulled the edge of the chair and sat down on it as Gavin slid a plate in front of me. It was laid with napkins and silverware, all entirely set up on the plate. I looked over the engraved silverware—it was high-grade stuff, that's for sure. "Damn... this is some nice cutlery," I said aloud as I met Monroe's own hard gaze. "Yes, it is. It came from my father—it's an old family heirloom. Custom silver engraved silverware we use whenever we have guests in the house, to be gracious hosts. Don't we, Gavin?" Monroe asked. Gavin perked up and gave me a reassuring nod. I picked up the fork and spun it in my fingers a bit. "Odd to own something like this. Wouldn't it make more sense to sell this kind of stuff?" I asked Monroe. "Not in our family. We've been in Green Mill since the gold rush, and instead of focusing on gold, our ancestors worked the mines for silver, extracting it to sell and trade in the mid-1800s," Monroe said with a puffed chest, clearly taking pride in his heritage. "My family has been here since Green Mill's announcement as one of Colorado's first settlements during the Civil War." "So, you've been here nearly what... at least 150 years now?" I proposed, only for Monroe to nod in succession with my comment. He set out a tray with leftovers on it—pasta and meats all lined up on the tray like some kind of lazy Susan. Monroe took a seat across from me on the other side of the table. He tugged off some chicken and set it on a plate, which he slid over to the now-seated Gavin. The boy wolfed down the meat in front of him as Monroe picked away at his own plate, lined with meat and veggies. I reached for the tray, only to notice more engravings on it. The tray was lined with some sort of sigil, and one caught my attention. One of the sigils matched the ones in the books. My eyes locked onto the symbol, quickly scanning it over. "Hey... uh, Monroe? Mind if I ask what these engravings are?" I popped the question. This caused Monroe to look up at me. [[Listen]]

"Oh those, Simple there old sigils from back in the Gold rush days. The indigenious of colorado used them as symbols to mean different things. The one your currently staring down means moon." He says with a gentle smile, he cocked his finger and pointed to me. "There actually “Discussed quite widely and debated by historians as to what they actually mean,” Monroe continued, “but those of us with families tracing back to the gold rush have the ability to translate them thanks to books and whatnot.” He smiled to himself, clearly proud of his heritage. I picked up one of the loaves of bread, set it on my plate, and layered it with turkey. “Would you mind if I looked at those books?” Monroe quickly shook his head curtly. “Sorry, River, but those are family secrets belonging to us.” I stiffened up at his response, my appetite vanishing momentarily. Gavin glanced at me, looking like he wanted to say something, but seeing my distressed face, he quickly shut his mouth. “Please... refrain from using my name so openly,” I whispered. Monroe’s eyes widened briefly in realization, and he quickly nodded. “My apologies. I didn’t know it was such an issue for you in the present day,” he said formally, not realizing the irony of his own mistake. “By the way, Gavin, I believe you have something for our guest.” Gavin’s eyes lit up like the Fourth of July, and he bolted from the table. “What the—” I began but was interrupted as Gavin reappeared almost instantly, holding a slip of paper in his hands, which he eagerly shoved into my grasp. “What is it?” I asked, watching Gavin bounce up and down in excitement until Monroe calmly instructed him to settle down and explain himself. “Right... sorry,” Gavin muttered, briefly composed before the excitement returned to his voice. “Well, Uncle told me about your living situation, and we wanted to come up with a solution for you. So, we found something that might help! We know a friend of ours who runs a rehabilitation facility for the homeless. It’s supposed to be for drug addicts and those kinds of cases, but they also specialize in rehoming and relocating the homeless into proper housing and jobs in actual neighborhoods!” He beamed up at me, his enthusiasm unrelenting, but it only made the hollow feeling in my stomach grow so much wider. [[Fake it]]

I faked a smile, trying to push down the heavy feeling in my chest. “Oh, shit... Heh, thanks, kid. It’s a really nice thought. I’ll have to look into it when I get a chance.” The words felt hollow in my throat, and as the abyss in my stomach threatened to swallow me whole, I realized I couldn't accept their kindness. Not like this. I didn’t deserve it, but I wasn't in any position to turn it down either. Monroe's next words felt like another weight pressing on my chest. “I already called my associate and told him that you’ll be there as soon as you recover, so he’ll be expecting you soon.” I stood up, my stomach twisting into painful knots. "Where's the bathroom?" I managed to ask, my voice tight. Monroe pointed down the hallway, and I moved quickly toward it. [img[https://i.pinimg.com/originals/ec/41/23/ec41238077d20408eb5b9d71a58d468a.jpg]] I slammed the bathroom door shut, retreating into the cool, sterile space. The toilet lid opened with a hollow click, and before I could stop myself, my stomach emptied violently. The acid burned my throat as I coughed and gasped for air, the guilt tearing at my insides. I felt the blood drain from my face as I collapsed to the floor, nails scraping against the cold tile beneath me, as if trying to ground myself. “Why did you do this…” I whispered into the floor, my body trembling with the weight of my thoughts. My back felt like it was being pierced by a thousand invisible needles, each thought driving deeper into my skin. The guilt, the shame, the feeling of not deserving any of this—it all swirled inside me until I thought I might drown in it. I couldn't stay here, not like this. Not after everything they had done for me. I couldn’t let anyone else suffer because of me. I couldn’t live like this. Wiping the tears from my face, I stood up, the act of brushing myself off more for appearance than for any real strength. My expression was pale and hollow, but I forced a smile, an empty smile. I splashed water on my face, scrubbing off the traces of the red in my cheeks, the last remnants of my breakdown. When I walked back into the living room, both Monroe and Gavin looked at me expectantly. “I was just facing a stomach ache after being awake for a couple hours,” I lied smoothly, though it felt like my voice was betraying me. Gavin seemed satisfied with the excuse, but I could see the concern still lingering in his eyes. I didn’t want him to worry. I didn’t want to deal with any more questions. Excusing myself, I retreated back to the room I had woken up in, my steps feeling heavier with each one. Sitting on the bed, I stared at the fireplace, the flames flickering in the quiet room. I couldn’t escape the feeling that I was being tested, that life was pushing me further and further until I’d break. Why couldn’t life just let me exist? Without this constant suffering? I was already broken—how much more could the world force out of me? Finally, unable to hold onto the thoughts any longer, I collapsed onto the bed, my eyes closing as I quickly drifted into a dreamless sleep. [[That Night]]

As my hand hovered over the doorknob, a pang of guilt surged through me, freezing me in place. My mind raced with conflicting thoughts, the weight of their kindness bearing down on my shoulders like a shackle. Monroe had patched me up and shared his family’s home; Gavin had shown me more earnest care than I’d felt in years. Yet here I was, about to leave it all behind—leave them behind—without so much as a proper goodbye. I shook my head, trying to push the emotions down. They'll be fine without me, I told myself, gripping the doorknob tighter. They’re better off not having someone like me around. I don’t belong here, not with people like them. But that small voice of doubt wouldn’t quiet. What if Gavin woke up tomorrow and thought I’d abandoned him like everyone else? What if Monroe saw my departure as a betrayal of the trust he so carefully extended? I clenched my jaw, torn between the urge to bolt and the pull of something I couldn’t quite define. My trembling hand let go of the doorknob for a moment, falling to my side. I closed my eyes, taking a shaky breath, willing myself to either go or stay, but unable to commit to either. [[Say Goodbye]] [[Just leave]]

I sighed to myself as I turned around once more, trudging past the living room without bothering to care anymore. I made my way back to Gavin's room, stopping just at the door. The lights were off, and Gavin was fast asleep in his bed, facing the window. Stepping into the room, I walked a few feet closer, standing silently as I looked at him. "You'll be alright, Gavin... Just... don't lose hope yet," I said quietly, my voice trembling as the words left my throat. I lingered for a moment, then turned around and walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind me. It felt final, as though shutting that door had sealed off a part of myself. This had to be the end, whether I wanted it to be or not. "If you're so insistent on being a ghost, at least you had the decency to say goodbye," Monroe's voice cut through the silence. He stood at the end of the hall, arms crossed over his chest, letting out an exhausted sigh. "Come," he growled, turning and walking further down the hall. I hesitated, torn between ignoring him and following. But I knew I couldn't just walk away, not now. My feet moved on their own, trailing after him, my mind blank. We stopped at the door to a study, and Monroe pushed it open. The office was decently sized, lined with shelves of books and a heavy desk in the center. Monroe waved me in and walked to a drawer, rummaging through it with purpose. His fingers tracing over the objects within, a sharp precision in each movement. "I'll say this once," he began, his tone sharp. "If you don't want to take Gavin's offer, then you'll have to take mine." His voice enlaid with a tone of pure commandment. I opened my mouth to retort, but he silenced me with a death glare that sent a chill down my spine. Without another word, he pulled out a worn book and shoved it onto the desk, flipping through its pages. Inside, I saw a list of phone numbers, all written in neat alphabetical order. This man wasn’t about to let me leave without a plan, And I was to play along with the plan no matter what I said. [[What are you doing]]

I reached for the door handle, my fingers brushing against the cool metal. My chest tightened with guilt, but I forced myself to push it aside. There was no use in staying, no use in dragging this out any longer. I had to leave now—clean and quick—before anything else could tie me down. Twisting the knob as silently as I could manage, I inched the door open, the night air slipping through the crack. But just as I stepped forward, a voice stopped me cold. "Running off without even a goodbye? Classy." I froze, my hand tightening on the doorknob. Slowly, I turned to see Monroe standing in the dim hallway, his arms crossed and his gaze cutting right through me. "You think you can just sneak out and disappear like a thief in the night? After everything?" he asked, his voice low but edged with disappointment. I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "I... I didn’t want to wake anyone. I figured it’d be easier this way." "Easier for who?" Monroe countered, stepping closer. "For you? So you don’t have to deal with the fact that there are people who actually give a damn about you?" I looked away, my jaw clenching. "I didn’t ask for any of this." "And yet here you are," he shot back, his tone sharp but not unkind. "You’re free to leave, but don’t fool yourself into thinking that disappearing will solve anything. Running away doesn’t erase the people who care—it just leaves them wondering why they weren’t enough to make you stay." His words hit harder than I wanted to admit, but I stayed silent, my feet rooted to the floor. Monroe sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Come with me," he said, gesturing for me to follow. I hesitated, still gripping the door handle, but something in his tone left no room for argument. Reluctantly, I let the door swing shut and followed him down the hallway. [[What are you doing]]

Monroe’s commanding presence left no room for argument as he flipped through the pages of the worn book with practiced precision. Each page was lined with carefully recorded names and numbers, written with the kind of care that suggested they were far more important than they seemed. The atmosphere in the study was thick with tension, and I could feel his eyes on me even as his hand scanned the page. “I don’t care what kind of life you’ve led or what burdens you think you’re carrying,” Monroe said firmly, his voice low and deliberate. “What I do care about is this—someone risked their neck to save yours, and that means something in this family. Weither or not your apart of it has no meaning to me.” He stopped on a page, his finger running down a list until it settled on a name. “You think you can just leave? Fine. But you’re not walking out of here without a chance at something better. Or at the very least something more agreeable to me.” He tore the page out of the book, folded it, and handed it to me. I hesitated, my hand trembling as I took the slip of paper. “What’s this?” I muttered, avoiding his piercing gaze. I could feel the guilt weighing down on my chest as he spoke out loud. “It’s a contact. Someone who can help you figure out what’s next,” he said. “They’ll offer you a fresh start if you want it. And trust me, they don’t give a damn about your past. All they care about is what you do moving forward. It's what they have done and will continue to do.” I looked down at the folded paper in my hand, the weight of it far heavier than its actual mass. My instinct was to refuse, to shove it back and walk out that door. But something in Monroe’s tone made it clear—this wasn’t just a gesture. It was a line being drawn, a choice being handed to me whether I wanted it or not. Monroe straightened up, his posture a mix of exhaustion and resolve. “You may think running is the answer, but it’s not living—it’s surviving. And sooner or later, even survivors run out of places to hide. This is my way of at least playing my cards so that you for once have something more then the clothes on your back.” His words cut deep, and for a moment, all I could do was nod silently. [[The Front Door]]

I stood at the front door, Monroe's instructions ringing in my head: take the bus to Old Town, then the light rail up to Denver. His contact would be waiting for me in an hour. Plenty of time to get there and finally leave it all behind. [img[https://www.elitelandscape.biz/wp-content/uploads/2016/08/Outdoor_Lighting_Driveway_Snow2.jpg]] The cold metal stung my palm as I pushed open the heavy door and stepped out into the crisp night air, snow falling gently into my hair. The porch creaked under my boots as I walked onto the grassy path, the snow crunching beneath me. My hood was drawn tightly over my head, and my breath formed a white mist that trailed behind me. I glanced at the front yard, where discarded toys lay under a thin layer of snow. They told stories of days when kids played in the grass under sunny skies—days filled with pure happiness in a family that genuinely cared. It felt like a fantasy to me now. As I reached the rocks marking the driveway, I noticed the wilted flowers, their fragile forms covered in frost. Forget-me-nots planted in honor of a father drooped under the weight of the cold. Looking up at the window, I could imagine the nights A child might have spent staring out at the stars, wondering why his world had to unravel the way it did. Why the child had to suffer so much at such a young age? So many stories were scattered throughout this house—some his, some mine. It was hard to tell them apart anymore. My gaze fell to the driveway’s faded chalk drawings. Wolves and soldiers running through imagined grasslands, remnants of a child’s playful innocence. Gavin knew his father had been an important man. I could only hope that memory would guide him, that he wouldn’t end up like me. At the edge of the property, I reached for the gate. Its cold metal whined softly as I pushed it open. I could feel the weight of eyes drilling into the back of my neck. Turning slightly, I caught sight of amber eyes glowing faintly against the night sky, framed in the window. I couldn’t bear to face him. Not now. Not like this. I adjusted my hood, pulling it lower over my face, and turned away. [[Through the Night]]

After ten minutes of walking through back alleys and shortcuts, my muscles began to ache. The cold gnawed at my joints, but I pushed forward. One last detour—my old tent stood before me, sagging and weathered, its corners covered in frost. I crouched down, lifting the tarp flap, and reached into the pile of discarded remnants of my life. My hand found the one thing I had never dared to sell, the only object of sentimental value I had left: a pendant. The pendant was wrapped in barbed wire, with a small moonstone set firmly in the middle. It was the last gift my mother gave me before she passed. She had called it an heirloom, a good luck charm meant to protect our family from whatever life threw at us. "It's going to be your guardian, your knight in shining armor every time you wear it," she used to whisper to me on sleepless nights. Her voice, soft and melodic, echoed in my mind like the notes of an old, comforting song. I wrapped the pendant around my wrist, the metal cold against my skin. Stepping back, I took a deep breath, the icy air stinging my lungs. “Hey, you,” I said, nudging the old woman huddled near the remains of my tent. She woke with a start, her eyes wide with surprise as she grumbled and sat up. “What?” she asked, her voice groggy. Her gaze followed my finger as I pointed to the tent. She scrambled toward it, inspecting it like a child unwrapping an unexpected gift. “Why the hell would you give this up?” she demanded, turning her sharp gaze back at me. I shrugged, not bothering to answer. Words felt pointless; there was nothing I could say that would make her understand. “Eh,” she scoffed, climbing inside the tent. “If an idiot like you can’t recognize the value of something good when you’ve got it…” Her voice trailed off as I turned away, her words fading into the background. Advice, pity, scorn—it didn’t matter. I didn’t need anyone’s opinions or guidance. I walked off, my footsteps crunching through the snow, the pendant pressed against my wrist like a bittersweet weight. [[Bus Station]]

My feet carried me the last few blocks, the faint hum of fluorescent lights from the bus station casting long shadows on the pavement. The cold night pressed in around me as I approached the route schedule. My eyes scanned it quickly—thankfully, I still had 15 minutes before the last bus left at 7. [img[https://img.freepik.com/premium-photo/deep-night-bus-depot-with-buses-figures-motion_124507-150436.jpg]] The clerk’s counter was dimly lit, and I walked over, ringing the small bell resting on its surface. A tired-looking man shuffled to the window, his eyes dull and indifferent. I didn’t bother with pleasantries. Instead, I gave him the bus number and slid the cash across the counter—money Monroe had handed me for fare. The clerk took it wordlessly, his movements mechanical. The fresh bill disappeared into the drawer, replaced by a ticket that he slid through the slot with practiced efficiency. As soon as I took it, he flipped the sign to CLOSED and pulled down the shutter. It was clear: I was the last sale of the night, and he wanted nothing more than to be done. I couldn’t blame him. He was surviving, doing what he had to do—keeping a roof over his head and food on the table. Any sane person would. But not me. My life was a string of cold nights in a sleeping bag, curling up on unforgiving pavement as my body screamed at me to move. Even on mornings when my back ached and my head pounded, I stayed. It was easier to remain in misery than to risk anything else. And yet, Monroe and Gavin had seen through it all. They looked past the scars and the dirt and just... embraced me. They gave me a bed to sleep in, food that didn’t come out of a trash bag. They’d treated me like I mattered, like I was worth something. And now I was walking away from it. I thought about Gavin’s beaming smile as he handed me the flyer for that rehab program. He was so proud to have found a way to help. His happiness wasn’t forced or calculating. It was genuine, a kind of kindness I hadn’t seen in years. I stopped in front of the bench by the curb and sat down. My fingers trembled as I looked at the scars etched into them, each one a reminder of the last ten years. This place, Colorado, had been my home for so long. But it was also the setting of every failure, every loss. Could I really stay? Could I keep hurting people who cared? I heard the bus pull up, its brakes hissing as the doors slid open. A few passengers disembarked, their faces shadowed under the station’s lights. The driver glanced at me, waiting. This was it. A choice had to be made. For their safety—or my own comfort? [[Get On]] [[No]]

The driver tapped the steering wheel impatiently, his gaze fixed on me through the open doors. The engine rumbled softly, its rhythm a countdown to the choice I had to make. I clenched the ticket in my hand, its edges digging into my palm. My legs felt like lead, but somehow, they carried me forward. The moment I stepped onto the bus, the doors hissed shut behind me, cutting off the cold Colorado night and sealing my decision. I sank into one of the empty seats near the back, staring out the window as the bus pulled away from the station. The familiar streets blurred together, the chalk-drawn wolves on the pavement and snow-dusted yards fading into the distance. The life I was leaving behind was vanishing before my eyes. My chest tightened. I thought about Monroe’s firm voice, his unyielding efforts to help, and Gavin’s bright smile as he handed me that flyer. It all swirled in my head, each memory stabbing deeper into the void growing inside me. Regret wrapped itself around my ribs like barbed wire. I wanted to pound on the window, to scream for the driver to stop, to give me one last chance to turn back. But my hands stayed still, trembling in my lap. This was what I had chosen. This was what I had convinced myself was best for them—for Gavin, for Monroe, for anyone else who would have tried to pull me out of my endless spiral. The bus rolled onto the highway, its headlights carving a path into the dark. Colorado was disappearing behind me, each mile stretching the distance between me and the people who had believed in me, who had offered me something I never thought I’d have again: hope. I pressed my forehead against the cold glass, my breath fogging the window. The regret weighed heavier with every passing moment, but I didn’t turn back. I couldn’t. This was the choice I’d made. Now I had to live with it. [[Ending A: Abandonded]]

As I stood up, I felt the pendant in my hands. Suddenly, warm blood trickled down my hands. I looked down at the small wound on my palm as the barbed wire pulled out from my skin, letting my blood slip down my finger and onto the snow beneath my feet. I followed it, kneeling down into the snow, my fingers gently picking up the bloodied snow. The bus driver was speaking to me, but I didn’t hear him. His voice didn’t get through my head as I thought to myself for once. "Sometimes we all need protection, and that's okay. This pendant will always be there to protect, but it'll also be there to remind you when it's okay to ask for help~" Her voice said to me. The memory of a mother who loved her child so dearly. She gave her life to protect me, and I used that life to become a crippling alcoholic and homeless addict? I failed. I failed the chance she gave me, and somehow it was still the actions she did for me that snapped me out of the idiocy. “NO!” I shouted as I turned on my heel and ran away, snow spraying behind me as I ran as fast as I could. My heartbeat slammed in my chest. I was injured, yet still, I ran for my life. I ran for the memory of my mother and the second chance she gave me. Someone was willing to give me another chance, no matter how broken I was, and I swear from this moment on that I want whatever chance I’m given. I want to live my life the way my mother sacrificed her life for me to live. I don’t want to bury myself in guilt anymore. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.” I felt the words slip through my mind, not my mother’s voice but my own this time. My own words cascaded through my head as I ran across streets and dodged between cars as fast as I could. [[Monroe's House]]

The city was unfamiliar, its skyline towering like judgmental sentinels over the narrow streets below. Somewhere far from Colorado, far from the snowy yards and chalk drawings, I had settled into my old habits. An alleyway behind a diner had become my sanctuary, a tattered sleeping bag my only shield from the biting cold of a different winter. It wasn’t much different from any other night. The distant hum of traffic mixed with the faint crackle of a flickering streetlamp. A bottle sat beside me, its contents long gone but its weight still familiar in my hands. I traced the edges of the pendant wrapped around my wrist, the moonstone catching the dim light in a way that felt almost mocking. My mother’s voice echoed in my head: “Your knight in shining armor.” But where was the armor now? Where was the protection when all I could feel was the crushing weight of regret? I thought of Gavin, his wide eyes filled with hope, his innocent belief that he could change the world—or at least mine. I thought of Monroe’s hard-earned wisdom, his gruff voice telling me there was always a choice. And then I thought of the bus pulling away, their faces fading into the past, and the distance I’d put between us for what I thought was their safety. I pulled out the last remnants of my story: a worn notebook and a pen that barely worked. My hands shook as I scribbled onto the paper, the ink smudging from the cold and my unsteady grip. It wasn’t much, just a few words to say what I couldn’t face in person. "I’m sorry." The rest was left blank. The night crept on, the chill growing sharper, sinking deeper into my bones. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the brick wall, the weight of everything pressing down like an unbearable tide. When the diner’s employees arrived the next morning, they found me slumped against the wall, the bottle tipped over beside me and the note clutched in my frozen fingers. The paramedics came and went without sirens. There was no need for urgency; I was already gone. The city barely noticed, another nameless figure lost in the shuffle. But in a small house in Colorado, Gavin would eventually hear the news, his bright eyes dimming with the weight of a lesson no child should ever learn. Sometimes, even knights in shining armor need saving. And sometimes, the world is too late to notice. The end. [[Welcome]]

I came to a horrified stop as I felt the distant heat of fire on my skin. My eyes widened as I stared in horror at the fire on the edge of the hill above me. Monroe's house was set ablaze. My heart froze cold as I stared at it, the sound of sirens snapping me out of my fear. Fire trucks burst past me, but they took the main road. It was congested with cars driving away from it, and accidents clogged it all up. They didn’t know the shortcuts—the back alleys through the neighborhood, the very same ones I took descending down the hill. [img[https://img.thedailybeast.com/image/upload/c_crop,d_placeholder_euli9k,h_2916,w_5184,x_0,y_108/dpr_2.0/c_limit,w_740/fl_lossy,q_auto/v1572255666/RTS2T1Z7_tex4n3]] I didn’t have time to process what was happening before I was in another dead sprint. I cut through every alleyway, and any fences that stood in my way, I wasn’t going to let another fire take something from me. I wasn’t that same scared kid listening to the screams of his mother anymore. I had a chance to act, and it was now. My feet slammed into the pavement harder and harder as I picked up even more speed. How the hell I was moving so fast, I didn’t know—let alone care to know—as I ran up the hill. My feet carried me up to the gate, and with a rip of strength, I lunged over the fence in one giant leap. I slammed into the top and blitzed my flesh through the barbed wire as I landed on the ground. I could smell the smoke flooding the air as I ran up the driveway. I could only imagine the screams of Gavin as the flames spread faster in the house. I ignored the howling of my broken ribs and the cuts on my legs from the fence. I ran up to the door, only to be met with the scalding heat of metal as I burned my skin on the knob. But adrenaline was enough for me to rip open the door, only to be sent flying back by the gust of fire and smoke. "Damnit?! Gavin, Monroe?! Hang on!" I shouted as I prepared to move into the flames, but the heat kept me back. I had to find a different way in, or else I'd lose them too. [[Backyard]] [[Garage]]

I sprinted around the house and once again had to vault another fence just to get into the backyard. As I did, I could hear the distant sounds of sirens getting closer as I sprinted through the backyard. My eyes locked onto a window, which I hopped up to from the ground, but I couldn't pry it open no matter how desperately I pulled on it. My eyes locked onto the collapsed bundle on the ground—someone was in there. My heart slammed in my chest, and the only thing I could feel pulsing in my veins was anger. Just as the flames attempted to strip me of this new chance, that very same heat ran through my veins now. I wouldn't lose this, not now or ever again. The sound of breaking glass rang out as I slammed my entire arm through the window, pulling myself through it. Blood spilled as I did. Running over to the bundle, I recognized it—it wasn't a person, but it was Gavin's sweater. I picked it up, and through the smoke, something distinct caught my nose: blood. It wasn't my blood, but someone else's, and it was fresh. I felt my legs rip forward, slamming through the door, ignoring the burning sensation in my feet as I ran up the stairs as fast as I could, tracking the smell. I had it locked in my head, and I sure as shit wasn't going to lose it now. It took me running over burnt lumber to reach the source of the blood smell, when I noticed the same sign hanging from the door. I rammed through it point-blank with my shoulder. "GAHHHAHHHH NO?!" I felt a blade lodge itself into my shoulder as Gavin screamed out in fear. But when I saw him, I didn't give him a chance to really look at me—I ripped him from the floor and kicked open his window. I lunged through the window with the kid in my arms, falling to the ground with a painful thud. "River?!" I heard Gavin shout as we landed on the ground, and I pulled myself to my feet. "Where is Monroe?!" I looked at him, and without hesitation, bolted off in the direction he pointed to. [[Back into the flames]]

I sprinted around the house, my eyes frantically searching for any possible way in. I didn’t have time to waste. Then I saw it—the garage door. The heat of the flames seared through the air as I approached, and without hesitation, I launched myself at the door, tearing it open with all my strength. The metal groaned under the force, and with one last heave, it gave way, crashing open just enough for me to slip through. The smoke hit me hard as I dashed into the garage, the stench of burning wood and plastic clawing at my lungs. My heart raced. Every breath felt like it was burning my chest, but I forced myself to move. I wasn’t stopping, not now. I darted through the cluttered space, ignoring the sting of the smoke in my eyes, the searing heat as I passed dangerously close to burning walls. I knew the layout of the house—this would take me straight to the bottom floor. I forced myself to focus, not letting the panic overtake me. The flames reached hungrily from the walls as I burst through the doorway into the living room, my feet pounding across the floor, the heat so intense I could feel the skin on my arms prickling. The air was thick with smoke, but I kept my bearings. I had a job to do. I wasn’t going to lose another person like this. The room ahead of me was a blur of fire and collapsing furniture. The walls were crumbling around me, but I kept pushing forward, every step a battle to get to Gavin. My lungs burned, my ribs screamed in agony, but there was no time to stop. I heard the distant sound of Gavin’s voice, faint but desperate, somewhere above me. I didn't even think twice. I sprinted for the stairs, the flames licking the walls, and every step a struggle against the collapsing structure. As I reached the top, the smoke hit harder, but my instincts drove me on. I could see the door at the end of the hall, already singed and half-consumed by the fire. “Gavin!” I shouted, my voice hoarse, but it was drowned out by the roar of the flames. But then, I saw him—he was struggling, pinned by debris, terrified. The sight of him froze my heart, and without another thought, I barreled through the door, smashing it with my shoulder. As I stepped into the room, the heat surged. A blade embedded itself in my shoulder as I stumbled forward, but I didn’t flinch. Gavin was lying there, a terrified look on his face, but he didn’t have time to react. I grabbed him by the arm, pulling him up from the floor with all the strength I had left. “No time!” I shouted, not giving him a moment to process what was happening. I kicked open the window, the glass shattering under the force, and without hesitation, I jumped through, holding him tightly against me. We hit the ground hard, the snow breaking our fall, but it was still a painful landing. “River?!” Gavin shouted as we rolled to a stop. I pulled myself to my feet, ignoring the pain in my body. “Where is Monroe?!” I demanded, locking eyes with him. Without hesitation, he pointed in the direction I needed to go. My heart hammered in my chest, but I didn’t waste a second. I bolted off in that direction, knowing that if I didn’t act now, I might lose him too. [[Back into the flames]]

I gauged every single step through the flames as I locked onto another scent. It was more blood, but this time I could smell it coming from open flesh. As if I were a predator locked onto its prey, I lunged through a window with my body, ignoring the glass cleaving through my flesh as I did so. Moving with every intent to save the man I knew was upstairs, I leapt back up the stairs three steps at a time. The pain in my body was a fleeting thought as I moved with every ounce of strength left in me. When I reached the door, I slammed it open with another bursting strike, landing on my hands and knees before staggering to my feet, only to be met with something I could only describe as a monster standing in front of me, holding a bloodied Monroe. It was seven feet tall, standing on its hind legs, with claws as sharp as scalpels. Its pitch-black fur contrasted with the amorphous, pus-filled white tubes in its neck, pulsing with fluids. Its voice was a garbled mess of growls and barks, but words still emerged. "You think you can get away harboring them, Monroe?! I'll kill you, then the kid. Cause guess what? I've got a new benefactor interested in that fetish that isn't the pack! And he gave me all this power just to fetch him the fetish. I'm proud to say I serve him now. Frankly, I should've served him much sooner!" The beast's voice growled into the air, its attention so focused on the wounded Monroe in its claws that it forgot about me. In that moment, I felt what most people would feel: fear. But I refused. I wasn't going to run. Never again would I run. I ignored the pain in my fingers as I picked up the burning spike of lumber in my hands. I let out a rage-fueled shout as I lifted it. The beast turned to face me in shock as I screamed, but it was far too late. With the inhuman strength in my body, I slammed the lumber through its shoulder. The flames caught on its fur, pinning it to the burning building. Before Monroe hit the ground, I caught him and hoisted him over my shoulders as the beast laughed maniacally. "Found you runt!!!" [[Run]]

I ran back down the stairs as I felt it crash down beneath me. I kept my arms locked around Monroe as we fell back to the ground floor. I felt the snapping in my gut as Monroe's full weight landed on top of me, blood spewing from my throat as I coughed up more blood. I clawed my way over to him despite the broken ribs I could feel shifting in my stomach as I moved. I picked him up and dragged him with as much strength as I could to the back door. I felt the ground tremor as I looked back to see the beast with a wicked grin staring me down. His entire left arm was gone, chewed off, blood raining from the stump of burnt flesh. I watched with sickly disgust as red, worm-like tendrils slipped out from his flesh, wrapping around each other and forming into a bony, demonic-looking arm. I barely had a chance to throw Monroe's body out of the way when his new arm clawed into my stomach and slammed me into a burning wall. The scream of agony that came from my throat was inhuman as the beast stared me down. "How does it feel, runt?! To be the humiliated loser now? How does it feel to have all that pain in you?!" I looked into the beast's eyes. The crazed hatred gave way to the recognition of his soul. "L...Leon?" I murmured before the beast howled in joy. "So you do recognize me! Like the upgrade? Courtesy of my new benefactor, the WYRM!" he shouted in my face. His saliva was thick and crimson, his breath smelling of rotted corpses and burned tires. I couldn’t scream any louder as he wiggled his claws deeper into my stomach, back and forth. Once again, he wound up his arm, ready to kill me once and for all. "Any last words?" He grinned sickly. I only wished, in that moment, I could’ve said what was on my mind—the happiness I felt that, for once, I confronted a mistake. That, at the very least, I was going to die knowing I saved at least one person. But all of that was abruptly stopped by a massive wolf emerging from the flames. It ripped into Leon's shoulder and tore a chunk of flesh from his body. I was swiftly dropped as the wolf leapt off his body and caught my limp body in its maw. Running through the flames, we emerged into the backyard once more. "River?!" Gavin sprinted over to look me over as I hacked up blood from my mouth. I could see the tears streaming down his face. "Uncle, what's happening?!" The boy screamed to the wolf as I watched in shock as Monroe's body emerged in a sudden shift from wolf to human flesh. "Gavin, Leon has been overtaken by banes. We have to get out of here now. River, I’m sorry you had to be dragged into this, but I’m grateful that you—" [[Rip Gavin back]]

I only managed to grab Gavin by the back of his neck as I felt the after shock of leon slamming through the house and onto our spot. My eyes blurred as dirt landed in my eyes as I scanned the area desperately looking for Monroe with every ounce of my strenght. Though I dropped to my knees as I pushed Gavin's fearful body behind me. "Do you hear it garou?" A voice rang out, As I saw Monroe's body burried under the rubble injured and bruised. I watched in horror as leon lifted him up into the air, the words a blur. "Do you see the injustice and corruption." I couldn't stop it in time as I watched the claws of Leon sank into Monroe's gut, and My ears rang out as I heard Gavin's voice scream out from behind me in desperation. "Don't you want to do somthing?" I felt a pulse in my body as my fists clenched tightly in agony. "Don't you wish to avenge everything that has happened to you?! To Protect those who sacrificed themselves for you?!" [[Yes]]

"Say it again Garou!" [[YES]]

I felt the ground beneath me shift with pressure, the agony in my bones as I felt them snapping and shifting with a great deal of effort. The fur sprouted from my skin on my back, the claws ripping through my injured flesh. The canines ripping through my gums as I growled in rage. I felt the anger pulsing through me like the blood of life itself. "RAGE GAROU!!! RAGE!!!!" My legs ripped the ground beneath me as I stood up, my golden glowing eyes locking with Leon's shocked face. I looked into Monroe's smirking visage one last time before he was discarded like trash. Though the action was soon punished as I closed the gap between the two of us almost instantly, and I grabbed the beast's head. With a single swing, I ripped the lower jaw off of the monstrous wolf and cleaved off his regrown arm. A loud howl ripped through the air as I felt fire pouring through my veins. Things seemed to blur together, but yet my mind stayed sharp enough to know one thing: KILL LEON. And that I chased down, grabbed his ripped-off arm, and slammed it into him like a bat, sending the corrupted beast down into the burning rubble. I didn't care about Gavin's screams of desperation as he pulled Monroe back from me. I didn't care about the spine of bone lodged in my chest as Leon so desperately attempted to grow new cheap tricks to kill me with. He was an animal who needed to be put down. And I was the hunter holding the shotgun. The first slam into his chest was met with a terrified howl, the next with psychotic laughter. The third was met with desperate begging, but it was all pointless in the end. I couldn't hear him; I was too far gone. In the depths of my psyche, rage consumed me in a never-ending void of anger. I could feel the snapping of his bones as my claws dug into his chest and I felt the pulsing mass of flesh beneath my claws. I could hear the pained babbling and desperate words coming from his throat, all bargaining for his life, but it was useless. "You... pathetic... bitch." I watched as his eyes dilated in fear, realizing just how fucked he was. I ripped through the muscle and pulled it from his chest in one motion. I could feel the blood pouring down my furred arm as I crushed his ruined heart in my claws. My rage was satiated, in the moment. [[Claw back from the Abyss]]

I felt my consciousness ripping its way back to the surface, my bestial urges retracting like my claws. I felt my body shorten just a bit, but I held onto the fiery rage enough to keep this much more powerful form. My eyes turned to Gavin, who looked at me with fear and happiness. When I approached, he guarded Monroe's body with desperation and hollered something at me. Though his voice didn’t reach me, I knew I wouldn’t hurt him. My clawed arm reached out and gently hoisted him and Monroe’s body into my grip before I heard the humans approaching faster. One last time, my eyes turned and locked onto Leon’s corpse, and I managed to spit onto his body before I ripped the grass to shreds, running forward and over the fence in one massive leap. I moved through the trees so damn fluidly, I was shocked. I had never really moved through the forest so fast, yet somehow, I was doing it as if it was second nature now. What made me stop was when I felt the labored and pained coughing coming from Monroe, so I came to an abrupt stop. [img[https://wallpaperaccess.com/full/1474163.jpg]] I gingerly set Monroe down onto the ground alongside Gavin, who quickly latched onto his uncle’s shoulder. I could hear them this time, clear enough to understand. "NO, PLEASE NO, NOT AGAIN!!!" Gavin wailed into the air as his tears fell onto Monroe's paling face. My own bestial hand shook as I reached down and lifted his shirt, seeing the gash through his stomach and back. Gavin's desperate pleas clung to the air as Monroe summoned the last of his strength. "River... I suspected as much..." He spoke between bloodied coughs. Gavin pleaded for him to save his strength, but he was quickly silenced when Monroe embraced his nephew. "Gavin... You knew this could happen... it's... going to be okay..." He spoke with his voice gurgling up blood as he spoke. "Riv... er... Please... keep him safe... Do what I never could... Protect him," I heard before he whispered out his final breath. "Gavin... I... love... you." He said as he tightly embraced his nephew one last time. I watched with misery embracing my body as the light faded from his eyes. Gavin begged and begged, his eyes bloodshot with tears. I knew it would be cruel to separate the boy from his uncle, so I picked up both once more. And for hours straight, I listened as Gavin struggled in my arms, either crying or screaming, until his voice was shot and hoarse. [[Edge of the Forest]]

[img[https://s2.best-wallpaper.net/wallpaper/1920x1200/1702/Winter-thick-snow-forest-trees-sunrise-morning_1920x1200.jpg]] Finally, as the sun peeked through the clouds, I collapsed from exhaustion, though I set Gavin's sleeping body next to his uncle's. I felt my muscles give out as I fell to the ground; even the strength of my massive beast form wasn’t enough to keep up with exhaustion like this. When I fell, Gavin woke up and caught me in his arms. "River?!" I quickly quelled his worries by setting my hand against his head. "River... Are you?" His voice grogged out as more tears began to well up in his eyes. "No... no, Gavin, I'm not... It's alright... I'm not going anywhere," I said as I wrapped my arms around Gavin's crying body. He sobbed into my shoulder violently. I fell asleep with him in my arms, exhaustion finally overwhelming me after so long. I woke up a few hours later to see Gavin holding onto my arm like a child. I looked over to Monroe's body; it was lifeless and unmoving. Setting Gavin onto the ground, I moved over to the body. I dug through the body and pulled out his phone and wallet, setting them off to the side. Finally, I pulled off his jacket. My hands slid up to his eyes and closed them. "Sleep, Monroe... I'll take over now, I swear it..." I said, looking over at Gavin's exhausted body as I began to dig. Shifting into a wolf form, to my surprise, I was able to dig a decent plot within an hour. Then, transforming back, I woke Gavin up. Neither of us was well enough off to say much. "I love you, Uncle Monroe..." is all Gavin could manage before crying into his hands. It took a shorter time to bury him than to dig his plot. Gavin pulled out a Polaroid photo and pocket knife. He carved a sigil onto a big rock, which we then placed on the dirt. The photo was placed just a few inches under the rock. We stayed put in that forest until lunchtime, when I had to lift a sleeping Gavin over my shoulder and out of the forest. [[Closest town]]

[img[https://wallpapercave.com/wp/wp10519482.jpg]] I trudged into town with Gavin wrapped around my back, we got plenty of odd looks from passerby's but I didn't care. I managed to take Gavin's sleeping body over to a truck stop a few yards ahead, I bought us both food from whatever they had available. Neither me or gavin could bring ourselves to speak, just eating the mournful silence hanging between us as we ate. "We can't go back... can we?" He said, and I shook my head no in response. Gavin set down his burger and put his face in his hands, I thought he was gunna cry again which he did just queitly this time. We went back inside and got showered and changed into cleaner clothes, ditching our old ones in a dumpster. We stopped at the benches outside looking out onto the highway infront of us as we just stayed in place thinking. "Gavin..... I need to know everything ok? No more secrets. I need to know What I'm dealing with." I spoke my voice exhausted and broken but still determined. Gavin sighed himself as he turned to look at me. "Garou, there werewolves. Like you, you are a garou River, You are a werewolf." He explained and to be honest I wasn't all that surprised as he continued on. "Garou are the sworn protectors of the Earth, or Gaia. To keep a long story short, Every supernatural thing You've ever heard about is real. Zombies, Mummies, Vampires, all of them exhist and are very dangerous. Garou exist to protect the earth from these threats." He continued on, If I can transform into a massive wolf why can't vampires exhist? It made sense I guess. "What you saw back there was leon being transformed into a bad kind of werewolf, there known as black spiral dancers. There the opposite of normal garou. They seek to destroy the earth or speed up the apocolayspe." Figures the world is dying becuase of course it is. "Garou are trying to prevent that, but becuase of..... well Uncle Monroe called it drama.... but the garou failed, completely and now everyone is all seperated and isolated from each other." Drama, theres always something. Even with me it's always some sort of drama. "We got attacked becuase leon was looking for a type of artifact known as a fetish. Fetishes are powerful objects with magical properties used by the Garou. He was looking for a tome that contained the location of one of last 3 remaining Kaerins. Kaerins are basically gathering points for Garou which are insanely powerful places for Garou." [[The Fetish]]

"Do you know what the fetish was?" I asked. "No. All we knew is that it had recently appeared back in Green Mill, in the hands of some humans. Though where exactly it went was lost in transit. It’s here; we just don’t know where. If we did have it, Uncle Monroe would’ve been able to finally contact the other packs here in Colorado. The only one we ever knew of was our old one... but if you couldn’t tell, it’s falling apart and basically dead," Gavin explained in his long-winded answer. "So you want to find a book to help you locate another pack? I think I understand that much... though all the details might be a bit much," I said with an exhausted sigh. I slumped over, lost in thought, before the most obvious idea slapped me in the face. I tugged out the book from my jacket pocket and flipped it open. Gavin’s eyes quickly widened in surprise. "Well... I think we found our so-called long-lost fetish," I said, passing him the book. Gavin flipped through every page, nodding excitedly. "With this, we can find an actual pack. We might actually be able to fight back!" he said, joy rising in his voice. "Though... we’ll need to figure out how to read it first. It’s written in the glyphs native to the Garou, but I was never trained to read them," Gavin admitted, passing the book back to me, slightly disappointed. "So let me get this straight: we have to find someone to translate a magic book. Once it’s translated, we need to use the magic book to find other werewolves? Fucking hell... this sounds cliché as hell. But..." I yawned as I stood up and stretched. "I made your uncle a vow, and I’m gonna keep it. If that means translating this stupid book, then damn it all." Gavin looked at me, kind of shocked, but then nodded as he stood up too. "Are you sure about this, River? I mean... this is gonna be super dangerous," he said. "Oh, please, I was nearl— Uh, yeah, it might be dangerous, but we’ll handle it... together. Eh, Gavin?" I said, and the kid excitedly nodded to himself. "Only question is... where do we start?" [[Lake View]]

This game exists as a passion project and is not subject to monetization!!!! This project is a fan-made work and exists entirely within its own self-contained narrative framework. All intellectual property, including lore, references, and other elements related to Werewolf: The Apocalypse, belong exclusively to White Wolf Entertainment. [[Welcome]]

Trigger Warning: This work contains depictions and themes of alcoholism, body horror, violence, gore, drug use, mentions of suicide, and homelessness. Reader discretion is advised. [[Beggining]]

Gavin and I both knew staying in Green Mill wasn’t safe, so we took the earliest bus to the only city either of us had even heard of: Lakeview. Unlike Green Mill, Lakeview was sprawling, an older and far more developed city that dwarfed our small suburban town. The towering skyline and unrelenting crush of concrete were alien to us. I’d avoided settling here in the past; the overwhelming number of homeless people reminded me too much of my own struggles. Yet now, I couldn’t afford to keep my distance—not with Gavin under my care. [img[https://media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-s/03/46/87/15/the-plaza-hotel-carson.jpg]] With a bit of help from Monroe's old contact we found a descent hotel on the city’s outskirts. It wasn’t ideal, but it gave us a roof and a place to breathe. The month’s rent took a small chunk out of my savings—the same funds I’d hoarded for years, though I could no longer remember what grand plan they were supposed to fund. It didn’t matter. Gavin was my purpose now, and his safety came first. “How long do you think we’ll stay?” Gavin asked, watching as I stashed the remaining cash in my jacket. “You paid for a month, but... we don’t have jobs or anything.” “Don’t worry. I’ve got enough money for now,” I replied, sitting down next to him and emptying my pockets. “But we both know what we need to focus on first.” I laid out a pitiful collection of items: my busted phone, Monroe’s wallet and phone, and the remaining money. “How’s his jacket fitting?” I asked, glancing at the oversized coat draped on Gavin’s small frame. “It’s... too big,” he said softly, his voice cracking. Tears brimmed in his eyes, and the weight of his grief hit me like a punch to the gut. “Then have something that fits,” I said quickly, shoving Monroe’s wallet into his hands. Gavin blinked at me, startled, his expression a mix of confusion and silent questions. “Look, I... I don’t know what I’m doing,” I confessed, my words rushing out. “This Garou thing, this promise I made to your uncle—I’m winging it. Normally, I’d be asleep in a tent under the highway overpass back in Green Mill right now.” Gavin didn’t reply immediately, but his head dropped, mirroring my own. We were both lost, adrift in a world that felt like it had swallowed us whole. “But you came back,” he said softly, leaning his head against my shoulder. “At least this time, you came back. Maybe just this once, you keep going. Let things happen. I’m still here, and... you’re not alone.” His words sliced through me, raw and unflinching. I didn’t know what it was about this kid, but every time he spoke, it felt like he reached into my chest and ripped something open—something I wasn’t sure I could survive without. his words but every time he spoke he knew how to shoot me through the heart. [[Monroe's Phone]]

"Well, maybe... maybe there’s something your uncle left us that can give us any lead to translating this... 150-year-old... book..." I said aloud, finally realizing just how ridiculous it sounded. But in the end, it was what I needed to do. Once more, I dug into my hidden pocket and dredged it back up. Thankfully, this had survived my transformation and fight. "Hey... what about your uncle’s phone? I mean, maybe there’s something on it?" I looked to Gavin with a slight shrug, hoping he might know. "...If it’s anything like his old phones, maybe. He didn’t keep many, but when he had one, it was generally just a burner with maybe one or two emergency contacts on it," Gavin said as he picked up the phone and quickly unlocked it. "Thankfully, he told me the password he always used... my birthday..." Gavin winced as he spoke and opened the phone. Not wanting to see him cry again, I quickly put my hand on his shoulder. To my surprise, Gavin steeled himself rather quickly as he opened the phone. "It’s like I said—there’s only contacts and his texts... just me and the homeless facility he was contacting for you," Gavin said with a disappointed sigh. I could see a small pink scar on his wrist as he moved over. "Wait, did he ever use the internet? I mean, it’s possible he never cleared his search history... maybe there’s something there?" I suggested as Gavin quickly swiped over to the internet and pulled it up. "Huh, wait, look at that," I said, pointing at the only suspicious thing in his search history. "Lakeview Historical Public Library and Archives?" Gavin read aloud, confused, before a light went off in his head. "If someone was looking for a book, where else to start but a library? Damn... that’s cliché but still." Gavin proceeded to click on the website for the library and scrolled through it. "Looks like they have records dating back to the gold rush from Green Mill. We might find something there!" Gavin looked at me, bright-eyed and cheery as he spoke. [[Have Gavin stay put]] [[Get ready with Gavin]]

"Alright, get ready. I’ll be back as soon as I can," I said, standing up and grabbing my coat once more. "Hey, what about me?" Gavin quickly responded, his voice laced with frustration. "Gavin... it’s safer for you here. I can’t risk you getting hurt on my watch," I retorted firmly. "It’s just as dangerous to leave an 11-year-old by himself in a hotel in a strange city," Gavin shot back, pouting, his eyes locking with mine, angry and unyielding. "Gavin, come on... I’m doing what I can here..." I started to reason, but he promptly cut me off. "I’m safer with you and under your supervision than I am here alone in a hotel room in a city I’ve never been in before. I’m coming with you. End of conversation." I opened my mouth to retaliate, but when Gavin delivered those last words, I was promptly silenced. With an exhausted sigh, I gave up and looked at him. "Well... I guess grab your coat," I grumbled, annoyed, as Gavin quickly popped up from the bed, grabbed his coat, and walked over to my side. "Glad to see you’re so eager. Oh well..." I muttered, growling as I pushed open the door and locked it behind us. We entered the hallway, the tension between us still lingering. "Wait... River?" Gavin suddenly whined, looking at me with big, pleading eyes. I sighed, already knowing what was coming. One quick detour to the bathroom and back later, we finally made it to the lobby and stepped outside into the crisp city air. "So, it looks like it’s downtown. We can catch the light rail there and be there within the hour," Gavin muttered as we walked along the sidewalk, following the signs to the nearest station. It took us 15 minutes of looping through so many different streets I felt dizzy, but we arrived at one of the lines. "Motherfucker... what’s with the line?" I said, looking at the near 20-person wait ahead of us. Tons of people were scrolling on their phones with headphones in, drowning out the noise of foot traffic and screaming toddlers. [[The Kiosk]]

"Well, alright then. Looks like we’ve got our first lead," I said, standing up and grabbing my jacket from the side of the bed, slinging it over my shoulder. I glanced over at Gavin, who wore a slightly puzzled expression. "You gonna grab your coat? The sooner we get there, the better," I added, prompting Gavin to beam with excitement as he bounced up to fetch his jacket. "Oh, and before we go, is there anything else we need? Snacks or something like that?" I asked, just in case. Gavin gave me an innocent look, and soon enough, after a quick bathroom stop, we were in the elevator heading down to the lobby. "Hey, River? Thanks for letting me tag along..." Gavin murmured softly, looking up at me with a small smile. I nodded, a bit confused why he even thought I wouldn’t bring him, but I decided to just go with it. When we reached the ground floor, we walked over to the hotel clerk. I was shocked at how persuasive Gavin could be, effortlessly putting on a cutesy face with big puppy eyes as he asked the clerk for the fastest route to the light rail. The man practically melted and quickly handed over a shortcut to the station. Apparently, we just had to take the back exit, which put us closer to the signs and the station itself. [img[https://c2.staticflickr.com/4/3119/2714184935_54834b048a_b.jpg]] "That was fast," I remarked as we arrived at the stairs leading up to the platform. "Anyway, come on. We should try and get a ticket," I said, heading toward the booth. But as I waited in line, I noticed the self-service machines off to the side. Unlike the old, clunky machines in Green Mill with rubber buttons and slow processing, these were sleek, modern touchscreens with glass veneers. Curious, I walked up to one and tapped the screen, only to be met with a maze of options—different languages, routes, and lines that made my head spin. "Shit... which line do we—" Before I could finish, Gavin had already pulled up the route and pricing on the screen. "Just pay for it. It’s all we need to get going," he chirped perkily, practically taking over the process. I sighed, inserting the cash. A moment later, two tickets popped out from a hidden slot, ready for us to board. [[The platform]]

"Why are there so many people?" I growled, annoyed as I looked ahead to see the line shuffle forward at a snail's pace. I could feel the numbing sensation climbing up my feet as we stood there. [img[https://c2.staticflickr.com/4/3119/2714184935_54834b048a_b.jpg]] "It’s the afternoon rush. People are heading to and from work. The light rail is the cheapest way to do that downtown. When Uncle Monroe brought me here, he showed me how to use the kiosks faster to beat the line~" Gavin chirped to himself as he spoke. I looked down at the kid; at the very least, he was happy while we waited in the line. We waited for what felt like forever until we finally reached the glass kiosk. I reached my hand out and, with a single tap, nearly went pale. The sheer amount of information on display was shocking—so many different routes and travel times. Languages and voices blurred together as I clicked on several random buttons, causing the screen to start playing some stupid voice-automated system. I quickly clicked off, but it didn’t shut up, dragging me from the main screen onto some side menu. It then changed to a live map. It was all just too much as suddenly I felt a painful ringing blast through my head. I staggered on my feet, and Gavin looked up, shocked. "River?" Gavin grabbed my hand and kept me upright as I fumbled with my pocket, attempting to pull out whatever cash I had left. I dropped to a knee and pushed the money into Gavin’s hands. "Figure it out... Please," I said as I heaved an exhausted breath. I could hear everyone’s voices; it all blurred together into a jumbled mass of words and incoherent screams in my head. The painful ringing flooded my head as I tried to dull it out. The noise only sharpened as I felt Gavin’s body shoving me forward. I stumbled ahead, with Gavin’s small frame pushing me toward a bench nearby. "River... Here." Suddenly, Gavin’s hands covered my ears. Though it didn’t help much, at the very least, it quieted the random voices enough for me to focus on Gavin alone. His worried breathing and accelerated pulse clicked in the back of my head, grounding me. "Garou have enhanced senses in other forms... It must be because you can’t control yourself completely..." Gavin murmured close to me. My head seemed to hone in on his voice, expanding it to be the only thing I could hear. His worried breathing and hurried pulse created a strange sense of focus in the chaos. "Don’t worry, I got the tickets... Just take a second to breathe," Gavin murmured, concerned. [[Missed Rail]]

We walked up the stairs with a pep in our step as we reached the top and looked over the platform. It was kind of quiet, with people sitting on benches or overlooking the numerous LED displays all around us. The two of us headed deeper into the platform as I looked over to Gavin. [img[https://live.staticflickr.com/7836/46771103614_34024a8932_b.jpg] "So which line are we looking for, Mr. Genius?" I asked, scanning through the displays. "We’re looking for line D-8; that’ll take us downtown." Gavin smiled as we made our way over to the blue platform. A giant "D" was spray-painted on the wall ahead of us. "Looks like we’re 15 minutes early. We should grab a seat to wait it out," Gavin said, pointing to a bench on the side of the platform. The two of us promptly made our way over and sat down. I grabbed my neck slightly awkwardly, not knowing what exactly to do. "Soooo, Gavin... You haven’t exactly told me about yourself. I’m curious to know," I said with a shrug, looking at the kid. "Well, I guess I’ll start with the basics. I was born in 2013. You know about my mom, but my dad was a Garou like you. He actually served in a branch of the military made up entirely of Garou that acted as support worldwide. He went out on tons of missions to Germany and Australia specifically. He was an amazing man. He was... killed on deployment while I was staying with Uncle Monroe," Gavin said, his tone slightly depressed. "Since Uncle had been watching me for so long, he just took me in completely. Uncle Monroe adopted me and put me in training under Leon for a while. That’s basically my life story... until all of this," Gavin said with a slight shrug. "I... I know the feeling of being moved around as a kid. It’s not pleasant," I said in solidarity with Gavin. "You know, when I was your age, I left my father. He... didn’t die, but I just kind of left... I don’t know where he is nowadays, but I think he’s out there somewhere." Gavin looked up at me, surprised. "Yeah, that sounds hard. But my dad was awesome. He’d bring me back small trinkets from every mission he went on. All small items from the Garou he helped out. Or he’d bring back these little wooden toys from his missions in Iceland that the packs made for him as gifts," Gavin said happily, his face lighting up as he told me stories about his father. He described the days they’d play different card games with Monroe, head down to Green Mill Lake, and go fishing with boons from different spirits his father would convince to help Gavin fish. [[New role]]

The light rail arrived shortly after Gavin and I finished talking. Feeling in a good mood, I hoisted the kid onto my hips and gave him a piggyback ride. At the very least, I needed to keep him happy—he was my responsibility now. Monroe would probably string me up alive if he found out I was letting his nephew stay sad for more than a few seconds. We quickly boarded the light rail, one of the first to claim seats at the back of the train. I set Gavin in the corner and placed myself in the aisle seat. He was going to be protected from anyone on this train—I made sure of that. I even draped my arm around Gavin's shoulders protectively, which caused the kid to lean into me and rest his head against my shoulder. It was adorable, really, for an 11-year-old. With a soft jolt, the train took off, gliding down the rails at a decent pace. A moment of quick peace. Something rarely gifted to me since that night a few days ago. I looked down at the resting child, wrapped up in my arm. He was just a kid, relying on me to protect him. I’d saved his life twice now. Despite everything I had been through, I had chosen to take on the responsibility of caring for a young child who now looked up to me for guidance. It was slightly terrifying, now that I thought about it. Why would a child so willingly place their trust in someone who had failed to save their guardian? If I hadn’t left… maybe if I had stayed. "Oh god... if I had stayed..." The realization slammed into me like a bullet. If I had stayed behind, I would’ve been trapped in the fire. But at the very least, I could’ve saved Gavin. Maybe even prevented Monroe from being killed. I could’ve stayed and helped protect them. "This is all my fault... Gavin, I’m so sorry," I whispered into the air. Guilt wrapped around me like a heavy cloak. But in that moment, I knew that despite the guilt, I’d been given a second chance—a chance for redemption. And I wasn’t about to waste it. I sure as hell couldn’t lose it now. [[Arrival]]

After nearly five minutes, I gathered my sanity enough to properly stand on my own. It took a great deal of effort, but I managed to balance myself and finally begin walking. Gavin’s hand was bolted to my wrist, helping to keep me upright just in case. The ringing in my head faded to a dull hum as we climbed the stairs far enough for me to fully regain my senses. I looked around, slightly dazed, as my vision finally sharpened up once more. [img[https://live.staticflickr.com/7836/46771103614_34024a8932_b.jpg] "What line are we looking for, Gavin?" I asked, only to follow his finger and watch in disappointment as a blue-striped train peeled out from the station at high speed. "Line... D. The one that just left," Gavin said, a slight wince in his voice. I could feel a frustrated sigh leaving my chest. Deciding to at least find somewhere to relax before the next train arrived, I hoisted Gavin up over my shoulders and dragged my overwhelmed body toward a bench. Unfortunately, a flood of people had already taken the bench. Growling in annoyance, I moved on to another... and then another. Four benches and several frustrated growls later, I finally plopped us down on an unoccupied section of a wall a few feet away from the station line. "You okay, River?" Gavin asked with slight concern. I simply nodded to the kid, rocking my head back against the wall. "Tired?" Once more, I nodded, confirming his suspicions. I felt him slip under my arm and rest his head on my shoulder. "I’m sorry..." The guilt crushed my heart. I leaned down and rested my head against his. "It’s okay, Gavin... It’s my fault anyway. I should’ve just..." I cut myself off with an exhausted sigh, glancing at the kid before sighing again. "Don’t worry. It’s fine," I murmured, watching the display. "Thirty minutes... Great." [[Train ride]]

I watched as the train pulled back into the station, my head groggy and my vision blurry. I pulled Gavin up as quickly as I could, both of us trying to board the train as fast as possible. Unfortunately, we were beaten out by a small crowd of people, leaving us stuck at the back of the train, packed in like sardines. I hated every second of it. Even so, I managed to keep myself grounded when Gavin held my hand. As the train lurched forward with a great deal of force, I pulled Gavin back toward me, preventing him from falling backward. The kid stayed bolted to my side, my arm wrapped protectively around him for the entire ride. It was painfully slow for both of us. The hot, crowded car was filled with the constant noise of people talking, while the sound of the brakes screeching to a halt at every stop pounded against my already aching head. "Good fucking god..." I growled as we finally pulled out of our last stop. "Of course, our destination is dead last on the line." I glanced down to see Gavin’s head resting against my side, his small body asleep while standing. At least he was managing to handle himself well enough on this exhausting trip, though the amount of napping he’d been doing was starting to concern me. Every day, he was out cold for at least two hours, which was unusual for him. But then again, it made sense. The constant moving, the endless planning, and the stress of everything we’d been through must have been taking a toll on him. We’d spent an entire morning just getting to Lakeview by bus, only to spend the rest of the day searching for Monroe’s contact to get us a place to stay. All of that had resulted in us being set up at a hotel at the very edge of the city. It was a lot for anyone, let alone an eleven-year-old who had just lost his father and, two years later, his uncle. Now, he was being looked after by a complete stranger in a city he barely knew. Who could blame the kid for trying to sleep off his exhaustion and the overwhelming emotions to keep himself sane? [[Arrival]]

I watched as the train came to a halt at the station. Somehow, we had already arrived. Though I had only taken the light rail once before, I was still surprised at how quick the journey was. I stood up from the seat, and Gavin followed quickly behind me, his face eager and ready to go. "This is the lower downtown district, from what I read back on their website," Gavin explained as we got off the train and started walking down the stairwell. We descended to the bottom floor of the platform and pushed open a set of glass doors, stepping out into the cold once more. [img[https://dottedglobe.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/03/Denver-43-768x576.jpg]] As I walked onto the sidewalk, I shielded my eyes from the glaring sun above us. Instantly, the most disgusting scent I’d ever experienced assaulted my senses—a combination of rotten eggs and an indescribable, mold-like smell filled my lungs, causing me to gag. "River? Oh… your senses," Gavin quickly said, looking at me with realization. Apparently, Garou senses could be affected beyond the basics, picking up on subtle smells and faint noises. "That's why I smell… all of this?" I asked, gesturing around the city ahead of us. Gavin simply nodded in reluctant confirmation. "Ugh, we don’t have time for it. I’ll survive—come on." Gavin gave a knowing shrug as the two of us made our way down the sidewalk. The day was brighter than the past few days, with the sun peeking through the clouds fairly well. Snow was already starting to melt away, though the wind chill still surrounded us, mingling with the putrid scent of burning rubber and mold. After a few minutes of walking, we arrived at the library. Pushing open the doors, we were met with the sight of a high-end library. A few people wandered quietly through the aisles, and deeper inside, a large staircase led to the second floor. A massive sign hung above the stairs reading "Historical Archives." Gavin and I exchanged a glance before heading to the stairs. [[What are we looking for]]

The two of us reached the top of the stairs and looked out onto floor lined with shelves and shelves of different books all lined with random old looking books lined allong those exact same shelves. It was dusty and smelled abandoned but one or two older looking workers walked amoungst the shelves, one even stood behind a wooden desk typing away at a computer. [img[https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/57/Yale_Medical-Historical_Library.jpg]] "What exactly are we looking for Gavin?" I said aloud, looking down at the kid puzzled as to what we needed exactly. "Where looking for any documents related to the garou durring the gold rush, Knowing Garou it's not gunna be obvious what were looking for but maybe the book has a name or something we can use as reference?" I he said as I handed him the book. I watched as his fingers traced through the cover, the pink scar flashing towards me once more as he moved. "Tell you what Gavin I'll leave the researching to you, I'll just go find whatever you tell me to okay?" I saw with Gavin nodding as the two of us walked over to a table. Gavin flipped through the pages rapidly his eyes flicking back and forth over every word. "Well.... I can't make a lick of sense of it all, I mean there are a few garou sigils here and there that I know. Sacrifice, Alley, forest, and umbra but those are the only ones I actually know..." I say looking over his shoulder as he pointed to the sigil for was forest, though right next to it was the only sigil I knew. "That one means moon." I say pointing to it, My finger tracing the edges of sigil with every stroke it had. suddenly a cough came from behind us, I looked over to see one of the staff looking at us quizically. "Sorry I don't mean to ease drop But When I saw that book your holding I couldn't help but notice it has a cypher." The employee explained. "A cypher?" I repeated back and the employee quickly followed suite. "A cypher is basically a mish mash of numbers and symbols all jumbled into a incohesive mass. If I may?" The employee reached his hand out and looked over the pages. "Oh well this one is relatively easy, these characters Aren't normal numbers but roman numerals. The highest number here is 23 which would be W. translate each number to a its alphabetical counterpart and you can translate the mess. Like here you have 15, 18, 4, 23, 12. So O,R,D,W,L. Thoses are easily translated into world." The Employee said, I was floored at the sheer fact the man employee knew all of this. "Though as to these squiggles on outside of the bits of cypher I have no clue." As the employee started walking away I looked over at gavin who pulled out Monroe's phone and had roman numerals out in front of him. I was quickly sent to grab a pen and paper and came back with them. After some scribbling I was given a list of letters and numerals with gavin translating one page already. [[Translating]]

We spent two hours translating the what little of the first half of the book we could. Unfortunately, at least a three fourhts of it remained incomprehensible due to all the Garou sigils and random lines that weren't roman numerals. I shrugged off my coat again as I set down a bag of sandwiches and drinks I’d grabbed from the café across the street. Gavin had gotten hungry, so I made a quick food run while he continued working overtime. "Here’s what we have," Gavin said, his voice laced with frustration. "It’s mostly just a bunch of random entries about a man exploring Gold Rush-era Colorado and not finding much. All the locations he called out are already points in Green Mill that Uncle Monroe knew about. I couldn’t find much about Lakeview, but there is one thing. When you pointed out the moon sigil, it reminded me of another sigil—a moon bridge." Gavin quickly flipped to one of the pages he had marked on a separate piece of paper. "A moon bridge is basically a portal through the spirit world to a different location altogether. It mostly goes through the Umbra, which is the spirit world. So, I kept digging into the location he mentioned. All I could manage was the name of a place called Fang Spire Lake." He slid the translated page toward me. I picked it up and read Gavin’s notes: a list of various lakes scattered across Green Mill, none of which seemed to have significant connections to the Garou. "Alright, I’ll see if I can find anything. Meanwhile, you eat," I said, handing him the bag. Gavin eagerly dug in, pulling out a deli sandwich and immediately tearing into it. I turned away as Gavin focused on his food and began walking through the rows of shelves, scanning for anything relevant. At one point, I stopped by the librarian's desk to ask about Fang Spire Lake, but they had no information. The most they could suggest was that it might be a myth, which seemed obvious enough given that I was a walking myth myself. Trailing down the dusty aisles, coughing as the stale air filled my lungs, I noticed something. A flash of light caught my eye, just for a split second. Something was glinting nearby. [[Follow the Glow]]

I hounded after the glow, speeding up with each flash as it led me deeper into the library. Every few seconds, the flicker shifted, pulling me in a new direction until I ended up in a forgotten corner. The shelves here were rusted, filled with ruined, decaying books, and an old, dust-covered PC sat abandoned on a desk. [img[https://jeroentaal.photography/wp-content/uploads/2019/04/JEROEN_TAAL-2019-02-23-france-black-library-1074.jpg?v=01011970000000]] "I'm glad to see you pursuing things so vehemently now, Garou," a voice purred from the dim light. For a split second, I caught sight of it—a centipede-like creature skittering along the edges of shadow and light. Its body pulsed unnaturally, its many legs clicking against the surfaces it passed. "You've done well so far," it cooed, its tone disturbingly pleased. "I'm quite proud of how far you've come." I growled low in my throat, glaring at the creature, my annoyance simmering beneath the surface. "I know, I know—you’re quite mad about Monroe," the spirit said, feigning sympathy. "But you must understand, I can’t see the future, Cub. I only work with the knowledge granted to me. As a gesture to regain your favor, I have something for you." The creature scuttled along the light’s edge before disappearing into the shadows. Then, with a soft thud, something dropped to the ground. "Catch." I barely had time to react. Bending down, I grabbed a small, dusty canister that had fallen at my feet. The metal was corroded and brittle, and the label was faded but still legible: Gold Rush Log, Fang Spire Lake, Log 1901. I turned the canister over in my hands, carefully pulling off its tarnished lid. My heart jumped when a spider crawled out and onto my hand. Reflexively, I flung it off, but in doing so, a small cylindrical object tumbled from the container and landed in my palm. I squinted at it, turning it over, trying to decipher its purpose. "It’s a micro reel, Garou," the spirit said, its voice clicking with excitement. "I’m not well-versed in human technology, but I know this much—you’ll need a projection device to display it properly. This library has one, I assure you." The centipede coiled itself within the light, its pointed head turning toward me with an eerie focus. "I can’t offer anything more for now," it said, its tone shifting to something more somber. "But understand this—I have a goal, and you are the means to achieving it, young cub." I clenched my fist around the reel, narrowing my eyes at the creature. "You have some shit to answer for first," I growled, my frustration boiling over. The spirit sighed, almost as if it were weary of my anger. Its head tilted slightly as it replied, "Ask what you will." [[Questions]]

You wracked your head for questions. [[What are you?]] [[What are Garou Really]] [[What am I actually looking for]] [[No more questions]]

"What are you supposed to be? You look like a centipede, but your shell glows, and you have a tail, almost?" I asked, confused. "Well, my looks aren’t your concern, but I’ll answer what I am in a different context. I am what is referred to as an ancestral totem spirit. It is my job to watch over and guide Garou in their attempts to help protect the Earth from the end of times. As for who I am, that can wait, but as to what I serve, like most spirits, I am an aspect of something in the spirit world. What I happen to be is more primordial in nature, but that is to your benefit," the creature explained as it looked me over with its feelers. "Okay, so what? You’re just watching me 24/7? Is that it?" I countered. "No, as I just explained, it is a spirit’s job to guide and oversee what Garou do. In your case, yes, I do watch you as often as I can, but I’ve done my best to help you in ways you may not realize," the spirit explained. "After all, who do you think has been tracking that book for so long?" it added. "Wait, you’ve been following the book? Then how come you didn’t do anything with it earlier?!" I growled, angered. "I couldn’t dare reveal myself. Remember that corrupted Garou, Leon? Had he retrieved me and the fetish, you would all be dead rather than here. I did feel guilty for that innocent Garou’s life, though. Please rest assured that I have guided its spirit to its eternal resting place," it spoke. "I don’t only help living Garou." [[Questions]] [[No more questions]]

"Look, I get that I’m a shape-shifting wolf with anger issues, but what exactly am I supposed to do? I mean, all I’ve done so far is kill a monster and track this pack," I asked, slightly confused. "That, I am happy to explain. To keep things concise, I’ll say this: Garou exist to protect the spirit of Mother Earth herself, Lady Gaia. Unfortunately, your progenitors failed in this task, and now Lady Gaia is dead. So Garou have taken up the mantle of, at the very least, attempting to keep what little balance remains in check," the centipede explained. "You see, there are three god-like spirits that Gaia created. The Wyld is nature itself, the essence of life and chaos in one. The Wyrm is destruction incarnate but also an essential part of the triad, for without death, all things eventually fall to corruption. Finally, the third is the Weaver. The Weaver is the spirit of creation and logic—it manifests in everything related to humans. The cities, the technology, and the massive colonies of mankind all come from the Weaver. "Unfortunately, the Weaver hated seeing its creations constantly destroyed by the Wyrm, so it imprisoned the Wyrm. In its capture, the Wyrm was driven to insanity and became corrupted. In its corruption, death ceased to be a cleansing force meant for balance and instead became focused entirely on all-consuming destruction," the spirit explained. "What Garou are responsible for is attempting to keep both the corrupted Wyrm and Weaver at bay—a nigh-impossible task but one they must undertake nonetheless." The spirit looked at me with solemn eyes as it explained itself. [[Questions]] [[No more questions]]

"What am I actually looking for? Gavin keeps mentioning a pack, but I have no clue what that pack is. Like, I can figure it's a group of some sort, but as to what that group is, I don't know," I said to the spirit. "Ah, well, first and foremost, you're less looking for the group but their Caern. A Caern is a point of power—a place where the boundary between the human and spirit world is thinnest," the centipede explained to me. "Garou covet Caerns because these points act as a home base and a connection to their more wild and spiritual side. There’s a lot more to Caerns, but that is at least the basics. My hope is that by reaching the Caern—which I’m guessing is the one you're heading to—we’ll be able to discuss the next steps properly." "Okay, that’s great, but it still doesn’t explain why we have to do this whole wild goose chase for some stupid location," I growled, annoyed. "Oh, that is harder to explain. There are... more personal reasons why you can’t just go there. Mostly, it’s because the pack that controls the Caern is extremely weak in the physical realm, so they’ve hidden it in the deepest possible point they can manage, bordering on the Umbra," the spirit explained. "And do please remember, the spirit world is simply another name for the Umbra," the being added, finishing its sentence. [[Questions]] [[No more questions]]

"Is that all you wish to know?" The spirit cocked its head at me as it finished its explanations. I sighed, thinking over everything it had just told me. [img[https://jeroentaal.photography/wp-content/uploads/2019/04/JEROEN_TAAL-2019-02-23-france-black-library-1074.jpg?v=01011970000000]] "So now it’s my responsibility to keep the world from falling apart… Great." I scoffed, the exhaustion sinking into my voice as I mulled over the weight of it all. "How is it fair to put all these expectations on one species?" I asked, watching as the spirit flinched slightly. "That’s just it… Garou were not originally meant to be the only shape-shifters. A few other species were created to help share the burden. But Garou saw themselves as the truest and most superior of Gaia's children. In a massive war, they supposedly killed off every other species Gaia made to help." I felt my jaw drop. Mass genocide? My kind had wiped out their own kin out of selfish desires to feel superior? A pit of disgust formed in my stomach. Why was I not surprised? The spirit’s tone softened as if sensing the turmoil brewing within me. "Young Garou, I know you didn’t ask for this responsibility. I know the burden feels crushing, unfair even, but I must ask you to consider the fight. Your young ally has already vowed himself to the cause, and he is much weaker than you are. He lacks the strength, the resilience, the gifts you possess—but still, he fights. You have the physical ability to act where others cannot, to make a difference where others falter. "Please," it continued, its voice tinged with desperation. "Will you fight? Not for me. Not for Gaia. But for those who still have a chance—those who cannot protect themselves, those who will perish if no one stands for them." The weight of the spirit's expectations pressed down on my shoulders, heavy and suffocating. It wasn’t just asking—it was pleading, urging me to take up a mantle I never asked for. But in the end I knew I still had a choice, and maybe I still had some time in the matter to decide. [[No, I don't want this]] [[Maybe, I need to think]] [[Yes, If I have to]]

"No, I'm not gonna fix someone else's mistakes. I'm only doing this to help keep Gavin safe. Gavin is all that matters," I growled to the spirit, which winced back. "I... I implore you to see what you are saying, Garou. Stating inaction is no different than what your ancestors once said as well," the spirit attempted to argue, but it quickly backed off when I bared my fangs. "I understand your desire to protect the child, but you must understand there is more at stake that can affect the child's life. Should you choose to do nothing, then in the end, you're choosing to let these things affect your cub without preventing it," the spirit quickly explained. "I'm here to protect and keep Gavin safe, nothing else. I'll stop something if it gets too close to home, but otherwise, don't expect me to go play hero just because you need someone to," I said, annoyed, though the warning was fair. "Don't misunderstand me. I get the world is at stake... but Gavin is what matters. That kid is innocent in all of this, and it's my job to at least make sure he survives this," I said, with the spirit nodding. "I only hope that when the time comes, and your hand is forced, you know what choice to make," the spirit said as it faded away into the shadows and out of view. <<set $status to "Unwilling">> [[Micro reel]]

"I don't know. I mean, all of this is a lot. It's all of a sudden entirely my responsibility to keep the world from ending all because of someone else's mistakes? It seems unfair," I said, rubbing the back of my neck, slightly frustrated. "Don't get me wrong, yes, I want to keep the world from ending... but I mean, I want the choice to do it my way," I explained, as the spirit nodded at me remorsefully. "Believe me, I understand you, Garou. I wouldn’t have forced this upon you if I was given a choice in the matter. But at the very least, I can give you a chance to control the outcome of what you do and help guide you. I don’t expect you to take the world into your hands, Garou. I only ask that you consider helping out in ways you can. Everyone who contributes something is another link in the chain keeping the world safe," the spirit said with slight nervousness. "Maybe you don’t have to fight directly, but at the very least, you can help your future allies in other ways," the spirit bargained with me. "Everyone can still do something, even if it isn’t a direct action. They can still choose to try and do better for the sake of others." "I only hope that when the time comes, and your hand is forced to make a decision, you know what you choose to fight for," the spirit said as it slinked back into the shadows and faded out completely, its voice becoming a distant echo in my head. <<set $status to "Neutral">> [[Micro reel]]

"…I may not fight for the entire earth, but at the very least, I can still fight for Green Mill. I can't guarantee results, but I'll try my best in the matter," I said, causing the spirit to light up the wall with a bright red glow. "I'm glad you're so ready to undertake this, Garou. I am proud to call you my friend in this fight for balance!" it said cheerily. "But don't get it twisted. I'm still more focused on protecting Gavin more than anything else. Maybe this way, I can help get back Gavin's home and give him a safe place to grow up properly, away from all of this..." I said out loud. "Ah, yes, I understand the child's safety is your priority, but I'm happy to know that you're willing to fight on our side in this matter. However, I do wish to warn you about something… You must understand, some who undertake this responsibility are fanatical in their actions. I implore you to think through what you decide to do in the end. There are always options outside of fighting that can lead to progress," the spirit quickly explained, moving up and down the wall happily. "I will be in contact with you again as soon as you find the pack. I will do my best to keep guiding you from where I am in the Umbra. Good luck, Garou," the spirit said as it faded away. <<set $status to "Willing">> [[Micro reel]]

"A micro reel, huh? I wonder what it’s meant for?" I said as I examined the canister between my fingertips lightly. The light hazed over its black shell as I looked at the cap. It seemed to have a threaded lid with a small slit on the canister itself. I walked back over to Gavin, who was still scarfing down his food, to check on him. The kid had wolfed down two of the four sandwiches I bought for us, so at the very least, I knew his appetite was unaffected. I told him I was still looking but that I wanted him to search the internet—maybe he could find something there. I walked away and up to the staff desk. No one was standing there, so I looked over at the once-bronze bell, now an oxidized, sickly green. With one swift tap, it let out a rattling ping, and to my shock, an older, heavy-set lady walked out from behind a bunch of shelves. "Hello, what can I help you with today?" she chirped, but when she looked at me, her eyes seemed to glaze over. "Computers 2–7 are open with public Wi-Fi already available. No, we have no limits on search time." She rattled off some predetermined speech at me. "Actually, no, I need—" I attempted to speak, only to get interrupted. "Yes, we offer printing services, but we do charge 50 cents per print, and yes, we can scan papers for you. So, which computer do you want to use?" She looked at me with a slightly expectant expression. "No… I was hoping you had something that could read this… I think it’s called a micro reel?" I said, setting the canister in front of her. Her eyes widened a bit as she lifted the canister in her fingers and looked it over. "You want a microfilm reader? Really?" She looked a bit surprised but then perked up a bit. She opened the divider and walked through it. I had to jog to keep up with her surprisingly fast waddle. [[Film reader]]

We stopped at a massive retro-looking monitor with a huge bulb at the bottom of it. She took the canister and screwed it into a socket before the slit suddenly clicked open a bit, producing a small black line of film from within. She guided it into a hook with her fingers and locked it in place. [img[https://amerylibrary.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/Microfilm-Reader-Scanner-min.jpg]] "It's a simple but effective machine. The light projects the image in black and white onto the monitor's screen. It was made a few dozen years before I was born, back in the 1980s. But it's no longer all that common. I'm surprised to see we even still carry any of these anymore. You'll find them more often in museums," she prattled on as she looked over the screen with its dull hum. Finally, she flicked on the light, and a black-and-white image was projected onto the screen. "Whatever you're looking for on here, just turn this dial until you find what you need," she said as she twisted it, revealing a news article about the gold rush. Bingo. "Oh gosh, this is the oldest one we have. I remember it too. The day we got the reel developed cost us a small fortune because all of the articles were from the historical society," she said as she stepped away. "Do tell me if you find anything interesting," she added with a happy smile as she walked off. I picked up the notepad I had swiped from Gavin back at the table and scrolled through the newspaper. More articles about the gold rush and old white men striking it rich, along with a couple of sketchy articles about Native American tribes being forced into camps. I grimaced at those, knowing from school how terribly Natives were treated back then. Finally, the very last article caught my eye. "Massive gold vein found at lake by Native American man. Dubbed Fang Spire Lake by locals due to superstition." Instantly, I felt the hair on the back of my neck rise as I looked over the photo in the print. A massive lake stood out against the background of twin peaks rising behind it. It wasn’t called Fang Spire because of the Garou—it was Fang Spire because of the mountains behind it! I quickly jotted down what I knew and continued down the article. It made numerous references to the Native American tribe that ferociously guarded the land and how they killed people to protect it. I tried to find a direct location for it but at least managed to note the name of the mountain range it was located in. [[Twin Fang peak]]

"Twin Fang Peak, a set of mountains located on the edge of Green Mill, Colorado. A sister mountain range to the Rockies themselves, though often considered an offshoot of the Rockies due to its location between the two massive valleys surrounding it. One of those valleys became the city known as Lake View," Gavin read off Monroe's phone. [img[https://images-sp.summitpost.org/tr:e-sharpen,e-contrast-1,fit-max,q-60,h-800/636979.jpg]] "Well, at least we know the mountain range... but what about the body of water? I mean, we know it's called Fang Spire Lake, but it still doesn't come up with much in any searches," Gavin complained as he pulled up one of his previous searches from the phone and looked it over. Only three articles came up, all from blogs about traveling around the lake. "That's disappointing. Do we know where the lake itself is?" I asked Gavin as I leaned over his shoulder. "Yeah, it's located halfway up the mountain range. It's part of Lake View National Park," Gavin said as he pulled up the national park's website. To my shock, the lake was only mentioned as part of the range in one super small line for tourists. "I checked if it's available to the public, but unless you're part of some research team or an exclusive tour, it's a no-go. The last tour was available back in May," he said with a disappointed sigh. "Well... the lake isn't open to humans~," I said with a snicker, and Gavin looked up at me before it clicked what I meant. "You mean you want to go through it as a wolf?" Gavin asked, shocked. "It says wolves are common in the area, so what shock would it be to the public to see an everyday common wolf wandering the lake?" I laughed a bit as I looked at him. "All we have to do is get to the park normally, then wait till I can wolf it up," I said, happy that I was finally making some real progress. [[Back to the Hotel]]

Me and Gavin stopped at some random fast-food chain to grab whatever food we could at the time. We managed to snag some burgers and cheap fries. Back on the train, Gavin fell asleep in my arms as we made our way back to the hotel. I carried him as we navigated back through the station and onto the streets once more. It was a simple trip, but when we returned to the hotel, I noticed a couple sitting on the couch. The man was holding what seemed to be his fiancée's pregnant stomach—a child waiting to come into this world, into the arms of a loving family. Seeing something like that made my stomach twist in on itself as I passed by them, making my way to the elevator. I stopped as I hit the up button, looking past the couple and toward a painting in the hotel lobby—The Pietà—hanging in its wooden frame. The tears of Mother Mary stained her skin a bright red as she held the cold corpse of Christ in her arms. Maybe God is real? Maybe He isn't a god so much as a man who suffered at the cost of others? I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to make any claims about it. But there is one thing I wish I did know at the end of the day: Does every mother who truly loves her child experience the same grief as Saint Mary did upon Christ’s death? Her suffering was once described as incomprehensible, an emotion so deep that no one could ever experience both the same love and despair she felt. But in the end, she got a happy ending. Her so-called son came back. He saved her and brought her up to some kingdom in the clouds. A mother’s love was strong enough to keep her son powerful. Yes, the son was said to be the literal child of God, according to Christians, but undoubtedly, Mother Mary must have influenced him deeply. "A mother’s love..." I whispered to myself as the elevator closed around us. I heard the dinging as we ascended the floors, the soft white light glowing just above me as the elevator moved. For a shot at redemption, this felt wrong. [[In the Room]]

[img[https://dells-lakeside.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/IMG_0482.jpeg]] Gavin was a cheery ball of energy as we ate some food together. He talked about what life was like with Monroe and how much he had learned from the elders of his old pack. The senile old men had told him legends of the past—of Garou sacrificing their lives for some grand plan, a desperate gamble that helped stave off the end of the world for another year or two. It felt strange listening to his idealistic ramblings about superstitious werewolves making grand sacrifices to save others. "River, what do you think?" Gavin asked, looking up at me with curiosity. "Huh... Sorry, repeat that last bit," I said, snapping out of my thoughts. Gavin rolled his eyes at me. "What do you think of those warriors? Of the people who sacrificed themselves to stop the world from dying? I mean, so many people gave their lives just to do so. Surely it makes you feel something?" Gavin looked at me expectantly, his bright eyes focused on mine. I felt my gaze drift away, my thoughts retracing the steps I had taken to get here, to keep Gavin safe. It wasn’t some grand gesture to save the world, but it was a choice I made—to protect someone out of my own will. <<if $nature == "Nuetral">> [[It depends]] <<elseif $nature == "Unwilling">> [[I pity them]] <<elseif $personality == "Willing">> [[I envy them]] <</if>>

Here’s the revised version with spelling and grammatical corrections: "I dunno, I mean there’s some good and some bad in it all. I mean, some of the legends glorified making a pointless sacrifice," I said. "But it wasn’t pointless. They spared the earth from its destruction. Even if the story is fake, it still gives some hope," Gavin countered. "But that’s what has me conflicted. Some of the stories do have positive messages in the end, but they glorify actions that can still lead to bad choices. I mean, you said it yourself—there was a story where a Garou nearly willingly killed his own child just to change the outcome," I said. "And yes, I get that the child wasn’t sacrificed, and maybe the father felt remorse for the action, but in the end, that father was still more than willing to kill his own child to satiate a living myth. Legends can be a good thing sometimes, but what matters in the end is that we filter the myth down properly to understand its meaning. We shouldn’t glorify radical actions taken for the sake of a chance." "People shouldn’t take the myth at just face value; they should take the good and the bad and know what to do through common sense. I think that’s what you’re saying," Gavin said, a little confused. "But it’s okay for those legends to exist, right? I mean, in the end, some of them still have good in them," Gavin asked and nodded. "It’s a matter of perspective and logic. Garou shouldn’t base their actions entirely on what the spirits say but should judge for themselves what is truly worth doing in the end to try and make the best decisions. The unfortunate thing is that sometimes, from what I’ve learned... Garou still choose to obey fiction blindly," I said, a pitiful sigh in my voice as I spoke. [[Sleeping]]

"I pity the ones who took it too far," I said. "Some of the people in those myths have stories that do pose good values, but some people still choose to skew those values and stories into their own meaning," I said as I leaned back against the wall. "I mean, how many genuine Garou—ones with something genuinely good and innocent—listen to those stories, misunderstand the text, and do something stupid? I mean, you told me about the Cult of Fenris. What if not every Cult of Fenris Garou is a cultist but instead just a person who believes the texts too much? To believe in such radical views from texts that drive them down a dark path." "The cult is an extreme example, though, River..." Gavin countered. "Yeah, but that doesn’t stop them from existing and doing serious damage to people. Even the Red Talons believe—and still choose to believe—in their genocidal purposes. They take the purpose given to them by Gaia and use it as an excuse to cull and kill anyone who dares not fall in line with their selfish beliefs. Even then, some of those who hold the same beliefs would be killed just for existing," I spat into the air, thinking to myself. " There are Garou out there who are genuinely amazing people trying to do the best they can, but because of the actions of others, they’re looked at in a horrid light. Garou once treated humans so badly, humans now have a literal inbred reaction to seeing the people that are supposedly there to help protect them," I whispered. "I pity them because the good out there is still ruined so much by the bad that is out there, and that bad can never truly be stomped out." [[Sleeping]]

Here’s the revised text with spelling and grammatical corrections: "I feel like... I envy the chance they got, to do something so much better. To make an actual difference in the world. To have their sacrifices mean something at the end of their lives..." I said as I chewed the processed meat in my mouth, thinking to myself as I spoke. "I mean, each and every person you talked about made some great sacrifice to save the whole world, or at the very least the area they lived in and the people within it. A part of them was given purpose in that moment, and I think, for all it's worth, I'm jealous they got that chance." "I mean, I get that, but some of those stories might be fake. What about the ones that are fake?" Gavin posed. "I think that even though they are fake, at the very least it still gives you something to look up to. A standard you can hold yourself to in an attempt to just be a better person. Maybe a sacrifice isn’t real, but the message still is. They tell the stories of a person who, despite all the doubt within them, still proved to their progenitors that you can be a good person, no matter the cost," I murmured. "You're right in some aspects; we shouldn’t take these words as gospel, but at the very least, some of us can choose to acknowledge the stories and take the good out of them. Use the positive message to help just be better." "Huh... I think I get what you’re saying—that it doesn’t really matter in the end. It just goes to show that something can still teach you how to be a better person, no matter what it might cost you. Kindness isn’t a limited supply; it’s an infinite wellspring of change," Gavin said with a faint smile. "Yeah, you’re right... I think. Got a little philosophical there on me, Socrates~" I said with a teasing jab into his shoulder. [[Sleeping]]

[img[https://s3.envato.com/files/75a8ec71-5c03-44b8-a726-9ad070b50bf8/inline_image_preview.jpg]] "River?" Gavin looked over at me. "What about Uncle Monroe?" I felt my hands stop as my fingers wrapped around the edge of the bag. "What do you mean?" I asked him. "What do I tell people about Uncle Monroe? I mean, he had good and bad about him... I just, I want my uncle to be known as a good man, but I don't want to lie and make him some perfect man." I felt the question bludgeon into my shoulder as he asked me. "Gavin... your uncle... I don't know much about him, but I do know one thing about that man that I don’t need you to tell me. That man loved you more than anything in the world. As much as I wish I could’ve saved him, as much as I wish I could’ve saved you both... he chose to give up his life to save you, and with that choice, he gave me the one purpose I know I can follow. I have to keep you safe." I said as I took the shaking child’s shoulders into my hands and held his gaze. "I... I wish he was still here..." I felt Gavin’s head drop as he fell into my grip, crying. "I hate pretending he isn't gone... I hate that I have to keep things together by myself now..." "You will never have to do that alone, Gavin. I made a split-second choice that day. I refuse to ever regret that decision for a second. If you ever need to cry, then cry. Even though I promised your uncle... I also promised myself I'd keep you safe because I want to..." I said out loud. Even if there was some other reason to it, Gavin was still my priority. "Promise me... if you ever need a shoulder to lean on, you won't hesitate to come to me." Gavin nodded his head in confirmation as I lifted him up into the air and onto the bed. I gently rested him on the bed. "If that lake is the one thing stopping me from getting you to a safe place... then I'll drain it dry if I have to... kay?" I felt Gavin nod one last time as he fell asleep in my grasp. I let his head lean into my arm as he dozed off completely. [[Shower]]

I let him go to sleep in peace as I walked over to the bathroom and gently pushed the door open. Instantly, I was met with the sight of my own face in the mirror. The scars on the left side of my face were dry and scratchy. I walked over to the sink and splashed some water on my face, looking back up. The scars had faded a bit back into my skin but still lingered, marking me. It made me look like a homeless person, the very thing I once accepted to be, despite all of my money. I looked over to see the silver glint in the periphery of my eye—the blades of the scissors next to my hands, shining faintly under the dim light. My fingers began to shake. I didn’t want to touch them, but somehow I couldn’t look away. My breath caught in my throat as I reached out, my hand trembling uncontrollably. I felt a knot tightening in my stomach, my heart thudding loudly in my chest. The weight of everything—everything I hadn’t dealt with—pressed down on me, making my skin feel too tight, my body restless. Things had changed. Somehow, I had changed, and I knew that they’d only keep changing, whether I wanted them to or not. My reflection stared back at me, unblinking, unfeeling. Was it really me? Was this the person I’d become? I couldn’t even recognize myself anymore—not in the mirror, not in my actions, not in my decisions. "I can’t keep stagnating," I muttered, my voice tight, barely more than a whisper. "I can’t fall behind just because I want to..." I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to steady my breath. The anxiety clawed at me from the inside, scratching at the edges of my thoughts. It wasn’t just the scars, or the changes I saw in the mirror. It was everything. Every decision I’d made, every feeling I’d buried, every fear I couldn’t face. I couldn’t stay here, not like this. My hands shook harder as I reached for the scissors again, my mind screaming at me to stop, but my body—my body moved on its own. [[Cut it free]] [[Cut it short]]

I cleaved off my bangs, cutting away the excess hair around the back of my neck. I even took the length on the back of my head down to just a few centimeters. My hair fell down my body and onto the tiled floor beneath my feet as I continued to cut more and more. I cut and cut until finally, I was all done. The cold metal once again rested on the counter as I brought water to my hair and slicked it back. I noticed the bandages wrapped around my hair—a makeshift hair tie from years ago that I always kept rewrapping time and time again. I don't think I had let my hair down since nearly four years ago. It had to be plenty long by now, so in one fluid motion, I listened as the bandages were cleaved in half by the scissors in my hands. My hair was no longer confined, but instead danced out and around me. The long blonde strands fell down past my hips and gently swayed around my knees. "It's time... I stopped running," I said, looking into the mirror, my eyes gleaming with determination as I stared down the person in the reflection. I could still feel the rage hidden within my body, buried beneath the surface of my soul, yet burning like a roaring bonfire, refusing to die out anymore. "My life is starting again... And I'll be damned if I let it slip away from me ever again," I said, watching the teeth in my mouth expand and sharpen into fangs. I could feel the muscles in my legs tense and relax with every breath as I stared into the mirror. My hair, reaching my ankles, swayed with the anger surfacing. With a gentle exhale, I released the anger pent up inside me, feeling it slip past me and back into my soul. My hair, once more, retracted to its proper size as the temporary transformation subsided. Even just a little bit of anger was enough to push me into a transformation that changed my body. It was a bit startling, but the new abilities were a boon I knew I'd have to adapt to eventually. <<set $hair to "long">> [[The next morning]]

taking shape. I could feel the air against the newly exposed nape of my neck, and the fresh, edgy look reflected back at me. My hair was no longer long and flowing; it was choppy, untamed, just like I felt inside. I noticed the bandages wrapped up in my hair, remnants of my past, holding it back for years. A makeshift hair tie that had been with me through so much. Without hesitation, I snipped them away, the fabric shredding easily beneath the scissors. The weight of my hair had been holding me back in more ways than one, and now, without it, I felt lighter, freer. The mirror reflected a different person now—someone more focused, more determined. I could see the glint in my eye, the raw determination that had been smoldering beneath the surface. I wasn’t just staring at myself anymore; I was looking at the person I was ready to become. The anger that had been simmering for so long was still there, burning quietly beneath my skin, but now it felt different. Controlled. Not something to be feared or hidden, but something to be channeled, something that could propel me forward. I stood there, watching as the edges of my new cut framed my face, the choppy layers blending together like a wild wolf’s fur. My body had already changed before, my muscles tensing in response to the anger bubbling up inside me. But now, with this new look, I felt like I was finally matching the energy inside. My hair was a reflection of my state—sharp, raw, untamed. "Now this feels right," I whispered to myself, my eyes narrowing with resolve. "No more running. No more hiding." I could see the rage, still buried deep, but now it felt like a force I could harness, a part of me that I could control. I let out a long breath, exhaling the tension from my body as my hair settled into its new shape. The transformation wasn’t just physical; it was a statement. I was done with the past, with hiding in the shadows of who I used to be. <<set $hair to "short">> [[The next morning]]

The next morning, I stirred a bit, my arm feeling numb as I moved. I looked up, and to my shock, I saw Gavin staring out the window. His eyes were distant and pained, fixed on the view outside. I stood and walked over to him, noticing the red stains around his eyes again. He had been crying. I gently sat down in the chair next to him, my eyes falling on the scar on his wrist. "You got it that night, didn't you?" I asked, my voice heavy with the weight of the question. Gavin could only nod in confirmation. "Do you want me to look at it?" I prompted, but Gavin shook his head. "Why not?" The words left my mouth even though, deep down, I already knew the answer. "It's just my reminder of that night..." Gavin said quietly, his voice raspy and broken. Today was the day I had to head to the national park alone. "...I don't want it to heal. If it does... it means he's really gone..." Gavin whispered, leaning onto my shoulder. His eyes were glossy with unshed tears as his voice wavered. "I can't lose anyone else... not again." He shuddered into me as he spoke, the pain in his words cutting deep. "Gavin, I'll come back. I promise," I said, taking his hand firmly in mine. My fingers closed around his, holding on tightly. "If this doesn’t work... if something goes wrong... I want you to do whatever you think is best." I reached into the stash of money I had saved and handed it to him. Then, with a heavy heart, I unclasped the moonstone pendant from around my neck. "I may get lost... but with this, I swear, I’ll always be by your side," I said, gently clicking the necklace around his throat. Gavin leaned forward, collapsing into my arms as I hugged him tightly to my chest. "I promise... I’m going to try my best to come back to you." [[Twin Fang Valley]]

[img[https://p4.wallpaperbetter.com/wallpaper/294/435/828/canada-fir-lake-mount-wallpaper-preview.jpg]] The wind rustled my hair as I walked down the rocky path. The public trail, accessible to everyone, was dotted with a few hikers here and there. Thankfully, for most of the time, I was alone. It felt strange to be by myself again after spending a week and a half constantly with Gavin. I trudged up the wooden steps to the peak of one of the hills overlooking the valley below. From up here, I could see the parking lot where I’d arrived, buses lined up, and the recreational buildings scattered along the car-filled streets. "...I don’t know why, but... this feels wrong." I muttered to myself as I looked down at the small groups of people walking along cement sidewalks and the buzzing electric buildings funneling visitors in and out of the park. The smell of exhaust and burning rubber lingered unpleasantly in the air, filling my lungs all too easily. Thankfully, higher up in the mountains, the air was clearer, and I could breathe without my lungs tightening from the stench of gasoline. "Was I... No, I still am... I’m no different from them. I’m just aware now..." The words escaped my lips as I thought about it—the constant use of cars, the forests turned into cities. I knew I was no different from the masses. Was that okay? It didn’t really matter. I let the cold air slip between my fingers when I caught a whiff of something different. It wasn’t cheap gas or the stench of rotten garbage. It was pleasant, almost intoxicating. I followed the scent instinctively, only to feel the familiar line of stones at the edge of the path. The smell wasn’t from one object—it was the environment itself. The crisp air and the natural scent of the trees around me were so much better than I had realized. Something deep within me pushed to step further off the path, but I knew I couldn’t—not yet, at least. Following the trail back down the hill, I spotted a metal sign ahead, pointing to the park below. But my attention was drawn to another sign advertising the mountain hiking trail. "Gotcha," I muttered as I turned down the path, heading toward my destination. After a few meters, I was greeted by a warning sign: "Rocky and steep terrain ahead. Watch your step." "Figures," I said with a small huff, moving past it. A few minutes later, I understood what the sign meant. The path diverged into two routes. One was a well-worn forest trail, trampled by countless feet, and the other was a rocky cliff face that required climbing. "I mean, I’m not stupid," I said, opting for the man-made grass path. It led me into a small ravine, and after a brief hop up, I found myself back on the main trail. [[Deeper in]]

Once I had made it a decent way into the trail, I pulled the map out from the back of my jacket and unfolded it carefully. The sharpie-drawn path Gavin had marked for me stood out against the faded paper. "Not like I even know how to use a map, but... First river stop, then just follow it inward, I think," I muttered to myself, my finger tracing along the makeshift route. With a resigned shrug, I folded the map back up and shoved it into my pocket, pressing on deeper into the trail. A few yards ahead, I came to a halt as a glint of sunlight caught my eye. The shimmer of a river winding through the woods pulled me toward it. I jogged over eagerly, my nose filling with the earthy, clean scent of untouched nature. A contented sigh escaped me as I leaned back against a nearby tree, letting the peaceful environment wrap around me. Hiking in winter was miserable, but the rare sunshine breaking through the canopy made it a little less awful. "Fifteen bucks for a damn granola bar... It better taste like ambrosia for that price," I grumbled, ripping a chunk off the overpriced snack and chewing it with mild irritation. I knew I’d need the energy for the trek ahead—an hour-long hike to the lake if I kept a straight line, much better than the three-hour hike along the proper trail. Besides, the official path was closed to the public. My eyes flicked to the barrier up ahead—a tall, metal gate adorned with a bright yellow warning sign cautioning against entering due to wildlife activity. I walked up to the barricade and, with a quick hop, vaulted over it. It was surprisingly easy—just one bounce, and I was on the other side. This was it: the point of no return. I slipped off my jacket and folded it into its compact, bag-like shape, a clever feature Gavin had suggested for "wolf-friendly" transportation. Clicking the strap around my waist, I crouched down to the damp grass and slicked some moisture onto my fingers. This would be fine, I reassured myself. It was just a wolf. If people stayed away and I stayed alert, nothing would go wrong. [[The River]]

To say things felt different like this was an understatement. The world appeared both duller in color and sharper in detail than I was used to. Where things would normally blur together if I moved too fast, now I could focus on every tiny detail of anything I passed with ease. Even the smallest objects were as clear as glass when I looked at them. Not to mention the sheer endurance I had—it was like my energy was limitless, just as it was in my monster wolf form. I could sprint for minutes on end before needing to slow to a jog, and even then, I only needed a short breather before returning to a full sprint. I avoided the water, though. Even as a human, the smell of wet dog was unpleasant, but with a nose this sensitive, I didn’t want to imagine how unbearable it would be. I leapt over rocks and obstacles effortlessly, feeling the wind rush through me as the trees blurred past for what felt like thirty minutes of uninterrupted running. It was exhilarating—I felt like I could cover miles in no time at all. Eventually, I reached the second landmark I was supposed to find: a small pond surrounded by the ruins of old wooden buildings, remnants from the gold rush era. The structures were collapsed and weathered, the wood splintered and dark with age. I spotted the main trail a few yards ahead, though there was no one in sight. The distant rustling of animals echoed around me, a reminder that I wasn’t truly alone. I moved cautiously through the ruins, my steps slow and deliberate. The rotted wood creaked beneath me, gaps and holes scattered through the planks. An old iron stove caught my attention, its surface worn with rust but still intact. I couldn’t help but smirk to myself—it was amusing to see something so old still standing, even if it was far from functional. What truly piqued my curiosity was a locked wooden cellar door, its hinges rusted but holding firm. I pressed against it with my paws, but it didn’t budge. It wasn’t worth lingering over, so I left it behind after a few moments and turned tail—literally—heading back up the hill. From there, I continued deeper into the forest, weaving through the shady treeline at a slower pace. This time, I let myself relax, savoring the smells and sounds around me. The crisp air carried the scent of pine and earth, occasionally punctuated by the faint rush of water or the crunch of snow beneath my paws. It was a breathtaking distraction from my larger goal, one I didn’t mind indulging in. When I finally picked up my pace again, breaking into a run, it felt easier. Moving forward with a clear mind and steady rhythm, I pushed through the forest, more in tune with the world around me than ever before. [[Edge of the top]]

"Holy shit..." I muttered after another fifteen minutes of running. The air was noticeably thinner now, but I’d managed to reach about a third of the way up the mountain. My eyes scanned the breathtaking view stretching out before me. The blue sky shimmered under the sunlight, streaked with faint white clouds lining the horizon like soft brushstrokes. Below, the sprawling valley unfolded, an endless expanse of forest. The green treetops were dusted with patches of white snow, creating a mosaic of winter’s touch. It was stunning, but my gaze locked on what I had come here for. [img[https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a8/d4/da/a8d4da5625ae386ab11a085a748e1a62.jpg]] Far below me, nestled within the vast green landscape, was the lake. To my surprise, it truly looked like a fang. The water curled upward into a sharp, pointed tip, widening at the base to form a deep blue expanse. The center of the lake was dark, almost like an abyss, its depth an enigma. I didn’t waste much time before bolting down the mountainside, running at full speed for another five minutes. The descent was wild—I nearly lost my footing and tumbled several times—but eventually, I reached the lake. Standing at its edge, I shifted back into my human form, panting slightly but exhilarated. The shimmering water reflected the sunlight, its surface dancing with tiny ripples. I took a few steps closer and picked up a stone, tossing it across the lake with a satisfying plop as it skipped once before sinking. A laugh escaped me as I leaned back onto the warm, sunlit grass. It felt incredible to lie there after running for nearly an hour straight. My chest rose and fell with steady breaths as I stared up at the sky, the peaceful serenity of the moment washing over me. SNAP! The sound jolted me, sharp and sudden. Instinctively, I bolted upright and shifted back into wolf form, my body slipping silently into the cover of the dense treeline. Every sense sharpened as I crouched low, my ears swiveling toward the source of the noise. Footsteps—heavy and deliberate—approached from behind where I had been resting. My eyes narrowed as a hulking man emerged from the woods, his imposing figure framed by the sunlight filtering through the canopy. Behind him, a younger woman followed quickly, her movements more hesitant but purposeful. "You're being paranoid, Everett. Humans can’t get to the lake—not anymore. You know this," the woman said, her tone imploring. "It doesn’t matter, Carrie," the man—Evert, apparently—grumbled. His voice was rough, with a sharp edge of irritation. "The signs didn’t stop those teenagers from running rampant through here last time." I held my breath as Everett’s eyes swept over the patch of reeds where I was hidden. For a moment, it felt like his piercing gaze had landed directly on me. My muscles tensed, ready to move at a moment’s notice, but he turned away, continuing his conversation with the woman. [[Pain]]

I let out a sharp yip of pain as I leaped out of the way, narrowly avoiding the snapping jaws that clamped down dangerously close to my tail. My heart pounded as I spun around, my gaze locking onto a growling husky stalking me from the tall grass. The dog’s mismatched eyes were sharp and focused, its predatory posture unnervingly similar to my own. With a snarl, I bared my fangs and lowered myself, growling back at the husky. It crept out from the brush, circling alongside me. My heart thundered in my chest as I felt the tension crackle in the air between us. We glared at each other, locked in a standoff, neither of us willing to back down. "ROXIE, CUT IT OUT!" a man’s voice rang out, breaking the tension. The husky immediately perked up, its growl vanishing as it turned and bounded away from me, tail wagging. I instinctively leapt back, still on edge, watching as the dog ran up to the massive man who had emerged from the trees. "It’s one of the wolf-kin... Dammit, Roxie," the woman from earlier groaned in frustration. Her sharp eyes flicked toward me, but my attention was locked on the man. His piercing gaze met mine for a moment before he hoisted the husky onto his shoulder with ease. "My apologies," the man said suddenly, his voice deep and steady. "I didn’t mean to track you... let alone cause you harm." To my shock, he bowed low, his massive frame sinking to one knee in a gesture of deference. I froze, stunned, as the woman beside him followed suit, bowing just as deeply. "Please accept our forgiveness, Sacred One," the man said solemnly, his eyes lifting to meet mine. His words carried a reverence that left me utterly confused. I couldn’t think of anything to do but slink backward, retreating into the brush as my instincts screamed for me to stay cautious. "She scared it off... Roxie, you idiot," the woman muttered, rising to her feet and shooting an exasperated glare at the husky, who seemed entirely unfazed. The man stood as well, his expression hardening with frustration. "What am I supposed to do? I can’t keep diving into the Umbra for every little mistake we make. I’m still recovering from Leon’s corruption, and Snow-Eye is already weak enough as it is." My ears perked at the mention of Leon. "Not to mention that new Garou who’s fallen off the face of the earth..." he continued, running a hand through his hair. "I can’t just make a run into the Umbra now. We’re needed out here more than we are in there." His voice was gruff with irritation, his words heavy with responsibility. [[Follow them]]

I kept low to the ground, slinking after them and trailing their every step as they moved along the lake. My eyes stayed locked on the husky’s wagging tail, every movement sharp and clear in my vision. "It’s following us," the woman muttered, glancing over her shoulder. "Let it be, Carrie," the man replied dismissively. "It has every right to be mad at us. I’d let it bite Roxie back if it meant teaching that mutt some karma." He shrugged, seemingly unbothered. The husky, perched contentedly on his shoulder, let out a happy bark, oblivious to his words. The pair eventually came to a stop at a hidden alcove on the far side of the lake. The woman kept glancing back at me, her expression laced with confusion and curiosity, but I didn’t falter. My resolve held firm—I wasn’t going to back down now. I had to know more, no matter what it took. When the man sent the woman and the husky ahead down the trail, he stayed behind, turning back toward me. My steps halted instinctively, and we locked eyes through the thin veil of grass separating us. He said nothing at first, his lips unmoving. Then, suddenly, I felt something—a faint scratching in the back of my mind. It grew quickly, morphing into a sharp, relentless ringing that reverberated through my skull. I let out a pained whine and buried my snout into the dirt, trying to block out the sensation, but it didn’t help. "I’m sorry." His voice echoed in my mind, clear and unmistakable, but his mouth never moved. The sound was... inside me. It wasn’t spoken aloud, yet I heard it as clearly as if it had been. As quickly as the sensation had started, it faded away. He nodded to me, a strange solemnity in his expression, before turning and disappearing into the shadows of the cave. I stayed rooted to the spot, stunned. He had spoken to me in my head. I couldn’t explain it, but then again, my existence as a sentient, shape-shifting wolf wasn’t exactly ordinary either. It wasn’t the most shocking thing I’d encountered, so I pushed it to the back of my mind. Still, curiosity gnawed at me. I retreated farther up the hill, shifting back into my human form, and crouched there, watching the alcove from a safe distance. Fifteen long minutes passed as I wrestled with myself, debating whether to follow them. The urge to uncover the truth finally overpowered my caution. Steeling my nerves, I rose and carefully climbed down the cliff’s edge. My feet were unsteady, my breath shallow, but I pressed on. Finally, I reached the entrance of the alcove and peered inside. [[Hole at the back]]

I mustered enough courage to step forward into the water-strewn alcove, the air around me heavy with dampness and the faint hum of something ancient. My bare feet trailed along the rocky shore, every step crunching softly against the smooth, wet stones. At the back of the alcove, shrouded in shadows, was the only thing I could see: a small, black hole in the earth, framed by a massive stone etched with a sigil glowing faintly like pale moonlight. "Moon bridge..." I whispered, my voice trembling with both determination and trepidation. "Alright, Gavin. I’ll be back as soon as I can." I placed my hands against the cold stone, shoving it aside just enough to reveal the hole’s mouth. Swallowing hard, I lowered myself down, my body pressing awkwardly against the jagged edges of the opening. My hands clung to the slick stone walls, my fingers searching desperately for grips as I slid deeper into the narrow passage. For a moment, it was just darkness—silent and enveloping. Then, my foot slipped on a wet rock, and everything changed. "SHIT!" I screamed, my voice echoing into the void as my body plunged downward. My hands clawed desperately at the stones, but they found nothing to hold. The cold air whipped against my face as the sensation of falling overtook me. And then, in an instant, it was no longer just falling. A blinding, surreal blue light consumed me, radiating with an intensity that felt almost alive. I shielded my eyes, my heart racing as the sensation shifted from plummeting into endless air to... something else. When I dared to open my eyes, I was breathless. I was suspended in a swirling, infinite abyss. The air shimmered with glowing ribbons of light—violet, turquoise, and emerald—curling and twisting like the northern lights but denser, more tangible. They seemed to hum softly, their colors bleeding into each other as if the fabric of reality itself was melting. All around me were floating islands, drifting lazily like massive leaves caught in a cosmic current. Some were dense with forests, their trees shimmering with crystalline leaves, while others were barren, cracked and glowing faintly from within like smoldering embers. "Am I falling? Or flying?" I muttered, the words lost in the vast, unending expanse. As if in answer, the lights around me twisted and rippled, and my body was propelled forward—or downward—through the abyss. The islands whirled by, spinning in their strange orbits. I was transfixed, hypnotized by the beauty of it all, until— "What are you doing?!" The voice exploded in my head, sharp and panicked, yanking me out of my daze. My eyes snapped to a distant island, and there, engulfed in flames, I saw it—a massive centipede-like creature, its iridescent body writhing as it burrowed through the ground and erupted back into the air. The creature lunged toward me, its legs stretching out with unnatural speed. Before I could react, its body coiled around me, its shimmering exoskeleton radiating an unsettling warmth. "You jumped into a single-use Moon Bridge without even thinking about the consequences?!" The voice thundered in my head, vibrating with both fury and disbelief. I barely had time to process the words before the centipede tightened its grip and launched us both toward a floating island. Its massive legs dug into the earth as it yanked us through the air in a disorienting spiral. The world bent and warped around me. Colors bled and swirled like wet paint running down a canvas. Gravity seemed to tilt and twist, pulling me in every direction at once. I felt weightless and impossibly heavy, like I was being stretched and compressed in the same breath. The centipede hurled me upward, and for a moment, I was airborne. Then, with a violent tug, it yanked me back down, my body spinning wildly as the kaleidoscopic abyss around us churned like a living, breathing storm. [[The island]]

"Ow..." I groaned as I rolled onto my side and looked up—or maybe down. I wasn’t sure which. What I did know was that my eyes were scanning the glowing tethers of translucent light as they danced all around the small island. "What were you thinking?! You were basically asking to get lost in the Umbra, jumping into a single-use Moon Bridge! You don't even know how they work, and you think it's a smart idea to just jump in?" The centipede hollered at me, clearly annoyed. It kept my feet bolted to the ground, and I could feel gravity pulling my chest upward but my hips to the left—a confusing sensation that made my mind grow hazy with each movement. "Focus!" The centipede smacked me firmly across the jaw, the sting snapping me out of whatever funk had overtaken my brain. "Okay, okay! Jesus... Yes, I jumped in. No, I didn’t know what I was doing! So help me!" I shouted back, my irritation rising. The centipede sighed, its tone calming slightly. "Well, at the very least, you’re still conscious enough to be aware of your thoughts. I suppose I don’t have much choice but to get you through this myself. Come." The spirit lifted my feet, guiding me to walk on its body for some reason. The two of us quickly reached the edge of the island and looked over it. "If you’re going to get through this, we’ll need to make your perception work well enough to get you to the other end. I need you to follow exactly what I say. Do no step anywhere without my knowing," the spirit commanded, its tone sharp and authoritative. "Now, you’re going to jump across this gap onto that next island ahead of you. But in order to do so, you need something to ground yourself to the island. Think of something you can use to grapple yourself to it, mentally and physically." "Uh... think of something that can grapple... Well, I mean, all I can think of is a..." Suddenly, I felt a heavy metal object drop into my palms. My fingers instinctively gripped the smooth, thick rope wrapped around my hands. "...A grappling hook?" I stared at the thick red rope and the sharp, gray metal spike in my grasp. "How did I even...?" "Good. Now swing that hook and think of grappling to that island. Imagine it and pretend you’re already on it," the spirit commanded firmly. Before I could process what was happening, it hurled me into the air. [[Swing for it]]

"I'm flying through the air..." The thought drifted through my mind as I was sent cascading through the void. The spirit watched me, its expression horrified. "Ground yourself quickly!" it shouted desperately as I tumbled like a ragdoll through the open expanse. Panicking, I scrambled to spin the hook in my hands, but I lost my grip, sending the grappling hook flying in a random direction. "NO!" the spirit cried out, scuttling after the hook and lunging for it. Though it managed to catch itself on a tree, it nearly fell into the abyss around us. "This is it... I failed to keep my promise... I failed Gavin... I... I'm sorry," I murmured, my voice filled with despair as the open air around me swirled into the abyss. Black winds spiraled around me, engulfing me in their cold, suffocating grasp. "NO, DON'T—" the spirit’s voice echoed after me, but it was too late. I was consumed in one swift motion, like prey swallowed whole by a predator. "I'm lost... I'm lost in a black abyss. I'm spiraling, and I can't stop it..." The cold sensation gave way beneath me, and when I opened my eyes, I saw something horrifying. "What is that?" I whispered, staring at the geometric nightmare below me. Shifting, irregular patterns of fleshy walls undulated in a grotesque mass of bone and organic matter. It twisted and congealed into a sickly black spiral. Worm-like creatures writhed through the grotesque landscape, and fleshy tubes, filled with thick gray pus, pulsed in a heartbeat-like rhythm. Suddenly, I jolted as the rope in my hands snagged on something. Shocked, I looked up and saw the faint glimmer of light above me. But when I glanced downward, horror overtook me. For a brief, gut-wrenching moment, I saw it: the masses of flesh gave way to a rotted, skeletal hand, its corpse-like muscles outstretched toward me. Black bile dripped from its decayed fingertips. "Run... Run our labyrinth, and you will never suffer again~" The voice slithered into my mind, sending sweat crawling down my skin. My heart pounded violently in my chest. I clambered up the rope as fast as I could, like a spider frantically ascending its web. I pulled harder and harder, desperate to escape. "I'm climbing... I'm climbing up to him. I'm climbing up to see Gavin. To find that pack and give Gavin the life he deserves!" The words erupted from my mouth as if summoned from some primal place within me. A sudden burst of golden energy surged through me, shoving the monstrous hand back. It recoiled with a screech of pain. "He wasn’t telling me to ground myself literally—he meant it metaphorically!" I realized, the clarity grounding me in logic as I continued my ascent with renewed determination. [[Back in the Umbra]]

I jolted up with all of my strength as the golden light shot out once more, propelling me upward through the black abyss. I could see the light. I could feel the rope beneath my palms and the strength surging through my limbs. I was going to escape—not just for my sake, but for Gavin’s. Finally, I stretched out my hand as far as I could, feeling the warmth again. Suddenly, I was ripped forward, out of the cold darkness, and sent flying back into the Umbra. But this time, I was in control. I pulled myself toward the centipede, who looked at me, shocked, as I jolted the rope with all my strength. "Where were you? How did you even—" the centipede started, but I cut it off. I surged forward again, this time with clarity. There was no complex gravity to confuse me—I was in control. I ran toward the edge of the island and leaped into the abyss. My grappling hook sank into the rock of another island, pulling me toward it. "YES! You figured it out!" the spirit shouted, leaping from the island and racing after me, cheering as it kept pace. "How do I get to them?" I called out as I lunged toward another island, rope in hand. "Follow me!" the centipede commanded, ripping forward, and I followed without hesitation. I was in control, leaping and diving through the air, matching the centipede’s pace. "You understand now! This realm is based on fact and perception. If you ground yourself in something, believing it to be true, the Umbra will concede to your will if it’s strong enough," the creature explained, its voice filled with excitement as it darted ahead. So that’s where this strength came from? Was it my willpower or physical strength? Who cared. It didn’t matter. In this realm, I could move, and I was moving. But then I saw it—a massive gap ahead of us. Fear struck me like a blow, slowing my steps. There was no way I could make that jump. Even with my enhanced strength and grappling hook, it seemed impossible. "I’ll boost you! You’ll make it with plenty of strength to spare if I help!" the centipede shouted. I hesitated, my mind racing. Gavin. Gavin had lost everything, yet he still set aside his own well-being to help put me here. "You’re going to make it! Just accept his help!" another voice echoed in my mind. Gritting my teeth, I pushed aside the doubt and picked up speed, determination flooding every fiber of my being. [[I will make it]]

Grabbing the edge of my rope, I spun it around as fast as I could. I lunged up, landing on the centipede’s back, and sprinted forward. The boost in speed sent me surging ahead so quickly that when the two of us leapt into the air, I traveled farther than I had expected. Suddenly, I felt the centipede’s tail lift me by the back and shove me forward with all its strength. I was sent flying through the air, straight toward the island. With all the power in my arms, I swung the hook as hard as I could, and it sank into the grass of the island. I pulled myself forward, but as soon as I touched the ground, a rush of cold swept past me. The earth beneath me seemed to give way, turning to mud that swallowed me whole. But I had too much to lose. I couldn’t stop now. Letting the ground engulf me, I surrendered to the cold as it rushed up past my shoulders. "I can’t fear what happens. I can’t give up so quickly," I told myself, steeling my resolve. The ground rose to my mouth, and then I felt something flood into my throat. I coughed violently, spitting liquid out as it burned my lungs. When I opened my eyes again, I was shocked to feel water stinging them. I was underwater. Panic briefly seized me, but then it clicked: I was in water, just like at the lake. Was the moon bridge the lake itself? There wasn’t time to wonder. Desperately, I flailed my arms, following the trail of bubbles as I swam upward. I exhaled sharply, kicking harder and harder as the light above me grew brighter and brighter. "GUHUUUUUUUUH?!" I gasped, bursting through the lake’s surface. Something heavy dragged at me. I grabbed the rope, yanking it upward, and watched in shock as the grappling hook splashed out of the water. But I needed to swim first. Gripping the hook tightly, I paddled toward the dark shoreline, illuminated faintly by the moonlight. I swam with everything I had until my feet finally found the rocky bottom. Staggering forward, I clawed my way out of the icy water. My hands scraped over gravel as I dragged myself onto dry land, collapsing onto the cold rocks. Gasping wildly, I coughed up water, the sting burning my throat as it spilled out of me. I rolled onto my side, coughing harder and harder until my lungs were finally clear. My vision blurred as I lay there, trembling. Then, through the haze, I saw a bright yellow light shining in the corner of my vision. Before I could make sense of it, everything faded to black. [[Waking up]]

Suddenly, my body jolted upright as something poked me in the back. Startled, I shot up and slammed my head into something above me, causing me to drop back to the floor with a hard thud. Coughing from the dust swirling in the air, I blinked rapidly until my vision cleared. Looking around, I noticed the damp, dark, rocky walls surrounding me. Staggering to my feet, I turned toward whatever had stabbed me in the side, only to see the grappling hook hanging from a strange metal pipe above me. [img[https://media.sketchfab.com/models/ce133ca3fac846108d5a243c990628c1/thumbnails/3b71f4069e324e54aafeed4c8d9e7ed7/df06699894564970b5774acfabca7a17.jpeg]] Turning back around, I finally noticed metal bars forming a cage door in front of me. I rushed to grab them, shaking the door violently, but it didn’t budge. "Son of a bitch! Come on!" I growled, tugging harder on the door, but it was no use. Exhaling slowly, I closed my eyes and concentrated, focusing on the simmering fire of anger within me. As I funneled my emotions, I felt that familiar roaring bonfire of rage ignite deep in my soul. My arms tensed as the energy coursed through me, and I gripped the bars again, attempting to rip the door off its hinges. This time, however, pain flared across my skin as I pulled harder. The burning sensation intensified until it became unbearable, forcing me to let go. I stumbled back, glancing down at my arms to find slight black burn marks on my skin. "What the hell...?" I muttered, watching in shock as the marks faded, my skin rapidly healing before my eyes. Standing up again, I scanned the room, searching for another way out. With no other options, I sat down on the ground, frustrated. My eyes drifted back to the grappling hook hanging from the pipe. Curiously, I reached out and tugged at it. That’s when I heard a faint groan from the metal above. Looking up, I saw that the pipe holding the hook had a vent attached to it. "Oooohhh... okay, I see you..." I murmured, a plan forming in my head. Grabbing the rope again, I summoned my rage once more, letting the raw energy surge through me. With a powerful pull, I ripped the hook back, tearing the pipe open and creating a small hole in the vent—just large enough for me to crawl through.sing the rusty metal to give out and rip open a small hole for me to climb into. [[Human Form]] [[Wolf Form]]

I stayed in my human form, gritting my teeth as I stared up at the pipe. There was no way I was going to pull off a perfect escape. Still, I wasn’t about to give up. Grabbing onto the jagged edge of the torn vent pipe, I hoisted myself up. With fingers and thumbs, it was much easier to climb, thanks to the hook helping me as well. The metal scraped against my arms and legs as I struggled to pull my larger frame into the narrow shaft. Every movement felt awkward; the space was too tight, and the hard edges bit into my sides. I pressed forward, pulling myself inch by inch through the vent. The confined space amplified the sound of my breathing, and the groan of shifting metal seemed deafening. A pang of guilt hit me—if I was caught, it would be because I hadn’t been quieter. Slowing my movements a fair bit helped in the end, though. Finally, I reached the grated exit. I gave it a tentative shove, but it wouldn’t budge. Using my shoulder, I rammed it hard, causing the grate to pop loose. I grabbed it quickly before it could fall and placed it back into position as best as I could. Usually, I would’ve been able to run, but pushing the grate back in took a few extra precious seconds. Dropping down into the room, I landed with an ungraceful thud on the floor, the old wooden boards creaking beneath me. That’s when I heard a door slamming open and closed behind me. My eyes darted around the dimly lit space—a bedroom. I needed to hide, and fast. My heart hammered in my chest as I scanned for options. The bed. It was low to the ground but wide enough for me to squeeze under. I dove toward it, sliding under just as the door creaked open. I slowed my breathing as much as I could and listened to the person moving through the room. “Damn it, Carrie... Can I not get a damn break?” the man groaned as the bed shifted under his weight and creaked a bit. That voice—it was familiar. The man was the same guy I ran into earlier in the forest, Everett. I watched as he kicked off his shoes, stood back up, and left the room, the click of the door following suit. I took the chance, crawling out from under the bed and listening as he moved down the hall, another door closing behind him. I quickly slipped out through the bedroom door and into the hallway as quietly as I could, shimming my way down as best as I could. The wood creaked just a bit, but hopping over the squeaky sections got me far enough to reach the front door. When my hand touched the knob, I felt the hair on the back of my neck rise. “What the hell?” I heard Everett shout as he opened the door to his bedroom. I slowly pushed the door in front of me, but the sudden loud whine from the rusty hinges was a dead giveaway. I heard his footsteps rushing toward me, but it was too late—I was out the door, leaping off the man’s entire porch and booking it into the night. “The kid escaped!” I heard Everett yell. Suddenly, a howl pierced the air, freezing me in place. My blood ran cold as I stared in shock at the source of the sound. A massive five-foot wolf with black and white fur stood at the edge of the field, howling into the air. Its stunning golden eyes dropped to meet mine, locking me in place. [[Dodge]]

I focused my mind on the thought of being a wolf once more, after my trek through the valley and forest it wasn't hard to transform into the smaller wolf form all that much. Thankfully I was able to climb up the pipe as a wolf, it was like climbing a rock wall but I managed. I slipped up into the pipe with ease, my tiny fluffy body was much smaller then the wider vent shaft. so I was able to trot down the shaft at a faster speed. I made my way through the shaft with a smaller amount of effort and stopped at a grate. I nudged at it as best I could but without the dexterity of human hands it would be to inconvient to bother trying anything else. So I backed up and sling shot my body through the metal barricade. I landed on the soft sheet beneath me as I stood up and shook off. I had ended up in some kind of bed room by sheer luck of the draw. Moving down from the bed I padded over to the open door and slipped through it. I was met with a fairly open home, a small kitchenet with an older wooden stove. the smell of roasting meat and herbs quickly filled my lungs and It took almost all of my will power not to drool. but the sound of footsteps wasn't hard to ignore. So with the adept speed in this form I was easily able to scamper under the nearest funiture. A lucky couch placement seemed to be my savior in the moment. I watched as a pair of heavy leather boots stomped into the room and listened as a gruff sigh filled the air. "Damnit.... Why do I even bother anymore, Carrie is never gunna be happy about anything I do." The man seemed to say as he walked over to the stove and opened it. that damned heavenly smell filled my lungs once more, Why was I drooling so much? Suddenly the man set the food on the table and walked into the area I just came form. Wait a second, the area I just came from with the open and broken vent cover lying on the bed? "What the hell?!" the man shouted confused, but I was far too quick bolting out the door he came in through after prying it open clumsily with my teeth. I could hear him rushing out to the door behind me as I booked it off the porch I landed on and into the field of grass around me. "Shit, the kid got free!!!" I heard the man shout before suddenly I heard a howl peirce through the air. I froze in place as the fur on my back shot up and stared shocked at the source of the sound. A massive 5 foot wolf with black and white fur howled into the air with stunning golden eyes that moved down to me. [[Move]]

Fear coursed through me, every instinct screaming to get away from the massive wolf. Staring it down was pointless—I wasn’t going to take the hero’s route here. Deciding that running was my best option, I bolted. Before the wolf could make its move, all it saw was the blur of my tail as I sprinted away at full speed. I barely made it far when I ran straight into the burly man again. He scowled angrily, but I ducked low, sliding beneath and between his legs before he could react. I lunged back onto his porch, vaulted over the railing, and leaped through the air. Landing in the grass off to the side, I took off in a full sprint. The wind curled around me, rushing through my fur as I ran faster than I had in the forest. I didn’t dare look back—I just kept pushing forward, faster and faster. I couldn’t let them catch me. Not now, not when I was so close to escape! Bounding through the open grass, I spotted a stack of crates near the center of the homes. Using them as a springboard, I leaped into the air, hoping to use my smaller size to keep ahead of my pursuers. But my frantic thoughts were interrupted. The massive black-and-white wolf slammed down in front of me with a cannon-like thud, its fur gleaming under the moonlight. I froze, barely able to jump back in time to avoid the full impact of its body. Despite the distance I gained, the wolf’s sudden appearance left me shaken. I hadn’t heard it approaching—hadn’t even known it was chasing me so closely. When it lunged for my throat, I dodged just in time, my smaller form granting me the edge. But the sight of its teeth splintering the log it caught into tiny shards sent a chill down my spine. I couldn’t win this. I ducked and weaved, dodging the wolf’s relentless onslaught of attacks, but its sheer speed and power made it nearly impossible to keep up. My movements were growing desperate, erratic. I was on the losing end, and I knew it. When its glowing golden eyes locked onto me again, I felt the air leave my lungs. Its next strike came razor-close to my throat, missing by a hair but still leaving a deep gash. Blood oozed from the wound as I stumbled, losing my footing. I fell from the roof I’d scrambled onto and hit the ground with a violent thud. My body ached from the impact, but I didn’t even have a moment to recover. Mere milliseconds later, I felt the wolf’s full weight pressing me down, its massive paws pinning my throat to the ground. [[Pinned down]]

I barely reacted when I felt the wind shift behind me. I turned just in time to see the man winding up his arm for a massive swing aimed straight at my head. Panic flooded my system as I ducked under his grip at the last second. I could feel the pulsing air as his arm whipped through the space where my head had just been, the terrifying force sending shivers through me. "Holy fuck..." I bolted backward, adrenaline kicking in, and sprinted toward the hills. I managed to reach a stone pillar in the center of town, but before I could catch my breath, something slammed into my back with the force of a cannonball. I crashed into the pillar, coughing up blood. Behind me stood the black-and-white wolf, its golden eyes locked on me like a predator eyeing its prey. I ducked under its attack again, horrified as I watched its headbutt slam into the stone column. A massive chunk of the pillar shattered like fragile glass under the sheer force of the blow. I couldn’t win this. The only option was to run. I dashed down a narrow alley and dove between some crates, desperately piling items into a makeshift barricade. But the wolf lunged over it effortlessly. Its gaping maw snapped open like a bear trap, aiming for my arm. I barely moved out of the way, but the force of its bite was so intense that the air pressure alone sliced into my skin without the wolf even touching me. I managed to slip under the wolf just before it landed. Grabbing one of the crates, I hurled it down onto its back, buying myself a single second of reprieve. But it was only a second. The wolf lunged forward again, slamming its head into my back with another bone-rattling headbutt, sending me sprawling to the ground. I rolled away just in time to avoid the full weight of the massive wolf pinning me down with its powerful paws. I twisted my arm free from its grip, but not without tearing open the skin on my hand in the process. Pain seared through me, but it wasn’t enough to stop the wolf. I didn’t realize until it was too late—the wolf’s maw was open wide, primed to clamp down around my neck in a single, lethal motion. [[Pinned down]]

In my human form, I winced but kept my glare locked on the massive wolf pinning me down. I didn’t dare move. The glint of violence in its golden eyes was unmistakable—a challenge daring me to try and resist. Behind me, I heard heavy footsteps as the man ran up to us. He stopped a few feet away, his glare as sharp as the wolf’s teeth. “So...this is how you decide to make your escape? Running for your life from a Glabro-form Garou in his own Caern? Real smart, eh, Einstein?” the man growled, stepping closer with a sneer. “Do it,” I said, my voice steady despite the tension. The man paused, clearly taken aback, and his gaze bore into mine. For the first time, I let my guard slip just enough to let him see the determination burning in my eyes. “If I’m going to die, it won’t be without one hell of a fight,” I added, defiance lacing my words. “And how’d you plan to manage that with a Ragabash at your throat?” he countered, his voice dripping with disdain. “War form,” I replied, the fire in my voice unwavering. “I may not know much about Garou, but I do know that the big wolf form is deadly. In the time it’d take for him to chomp down on my neck, I could transform just enough to bury my claws into his throat and take his head clean off his shoulders.” The shock in their eyes was palpable as I raised my hand, pressing my fingers lightly against the wolf’s neck. Neither of us backed down. I turned my gaze fully onto the massive wolf, meeting its growl with a cold, unyielding stare. “Do it,” I challenged, my voice like ice. “Let’s see who’s faster.” A dark determination burned in my eyes, a bonfire of rage and resolve. They had challenged me, and now I was daring them to do the same. “All of you, stop it!” A commanding voice broke the standoff. Turning, I saw a woman descending the hill toward us. Her tone was sharp and filled with authority. “That’s the new Garou, you idiots!” she snapped, glaring at the group. “Everett, if you’d bothered to listen to any of the spirits, I wouldn’t have to come deal with some stupid kin-fetch bugging me!” The man and the wolf both looked at her, the former in shock and the latter with something resembling begrudging submission. “Chief, I get it,” the man muttered, “but can you just tell him to let the kid go?” The wolf’s growl softened, and it backed away from my throat, though its piercing golden eyes never left me. “And you,” the woman continued, turning her sharp gaze to me, “don’t get me wrong. I get putting on an act in the face of death, but you would’ve been killed either way.” She walked over with purpose, pushing past the man she’d called Everett, and hoisted me up by the shoulder with surprising strength. “Chief, drop the Glabro form and say hello to our newest cub,” she ordered. The wolf shifted, its form rippling as it transformed into a bulky, silver-bearded man. His golden eyes were just as striking, even in human form. “Cub?” the old man scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain as he brushed past me. “Gaia surely has let her standards drop if this is who we’re left with.” [[Don't back down]]

"Like you’ve got room to talk—your entire generation is the reason Gaia is dying in the first place!" The words spilled out before I could even think. This man had tried to kill me, insulted me to my face, and now had the audacity to stand there and act righteous? No way. If I was going to die here, I’d rather go down with my dignity intact than let some old bastard talk trash about me. The old man froze in place, his back stiffening as my words hit him like a slap. Slowly, he turned around, his golden eyes blazing with fury. He stalked toward me, each step deliberate and heavy, like a predator sizing up prey. When he was close enough that I could see the faint lines of age etched into his face, he stopped and leaned in, his breath hot and sharp against my skin. Our eyes locked, his gold to my purple tethered together in a clash of wills. It was a battle of dominance, neither of us willing to back down. His lips curled back, baring teeth like a wolf ready to bite, his growl low and threatening. "You’d better choose your next words very carefully," he hissed, his voice dripping with venom. The sound of his growl wasn’t just noise—it was a vibration that crawled into my chest, threatening to crush the air from my lungs. The weight of his presence was suffocating, like a storm bearing down on me, daring me to blink first. But even as my instincts screamed at me to submit, I refused to look away. My pride, my anger, my defiance—they burned brighter in that moment than my fear. <<if $nature == "Nuetral">> [[Facts]] <<elseif $nature == "Unwilling">> [[Tear him down]] <<elseif $personality == "Willing">> [[Reason]] <</if>>

"The fact is… you need me. I know the truth. I know about Leon. I know about him because I was the one who killed him!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, my voice echoing through the air. Everyone froze in shock. Even the old man faltered for a moment. In his eyes, just for a split second, I saw it—a flicker of terror. "I killed him because he became corrupted," I continued, my voice calm but firm, cutting through the stunned silence. "I came here to do the thing Leon never could. To be the Garou he never was in the first place." My gaze locked with the elder’s, unflinching. I could see the myriad emotions warring in his eyes—anger, disbelief, and reluctant understanding. "Face it… you need me." The elder drew back, his movements stiff with reluctance. His posture radiated anger, his aura practically crackling with tension, but logic seemed to temper his fury. "You’re only getting out of this because, on some level, you’re right," the old man growled, his voice low and threatening. As he turned to walk away, he cast a glare over his shoulder. "But know this… next time I have a reason to kill you, you won’t get this second chance." A threat and a warning rolled into one. Such a pleasant pack. I stood there, watching him disappear into the distance as the brunette woman from earlier approached. Her face split into a wide, amused grin. "Chief hates being wrong. It’s rare to see someone hit him where it hurts. And the fact that you did it without any rage? Hah! He’s pissed," she said, letting out a chuckle. She stuck her hand out toward me. "I’m Carrie. Pleasure to meet you, young blood." I took her hand, giving it a firm shake, though my attention flicked to the side. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the man named Everett jogging after the elder, his expression tense. "So, how long have you been a Garou now?" Carrie asked, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "The kin fetch said you weren’t that old." "How long have I been a Garou?" I echoed, my voice flat. "A week and a half." Her jaw dropped. She stared at me, wide-eyed, like I’d just claimed to wrestle a dragon barehanded. "What the hell kind of motivation do you have to fight so hard? I mean, god damn," she muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. I hesitated for a moment before responding, my voice soft but resolute. "I had two reasons. I wanted to fight for the Earth and…" I trailed off, exhaling slowly. "I need… a phone." [[Car drive]]

"Fact is, you can’t hide behind that mask of faux pride, old man. I know about Leon. I know the Garou failed to protect Gaia. I may not know everything, but I know damn well enough to see that the Garou are nothing like they were made to be," I growled, stepping closer and pushing up into the man’s face. "Maybe Gaia should’ve made a better species than the Garou… Oh, wait—she did, and our species killed them." For a fleeting moment, the man faltered. His mask of cold calculation cracked, and I saw it—something primal and raw, a roaring flame of anger so deep it was like staring into an abyss of pure fury. "You… are a…" he started, his words trembling with barely contained rage. His voice wavered, stuttering as if the sheer force of his emotions made it impossible to string words together. But I didn’t back down. I held his gaze, unflinching. His burning rage met my cold, dark determination in a silent battle of wills. "Chief," I heard Everett’s voice cut through the tension, his tone cautious and tinged with desperation. "I think Snow Fang wants us in the point. We should go." The old man—Casimir, I now knew—relented with an audible huff, his frustration radiating off him in waves. Without a word, he turned sharply on his heel and stormed off, Everett following close behind like a shadow. As their figures disappeared into the distance, the brunette woman approached me, her expression caught between amusement and concern. "Damn… I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone push back against the Chief that hard before," she said with a low whistle. "I mean, don’t get me wrong, some of what you said is true, but… don’t you think it was a bit harsh?" "I’m not here to play nice or help anyone feel better about themselves," I replied, my tone flat and unwavering. "I’m here for the sake of another." I paused, glancing at her briefly before continuing, my voice firm. "Speaking of which… I need a phone. Now." [[Car drive]]

"I came here to seek you out, I trudged through everything I've been through and shrugged off every single bruise cut and scar I've taken to arrive here. I let myself fall into the umbra to find you and come back from horrible nightmare realms to get here. If all garou treat there new finds like this..... I don't think I should've bothered showing up." I saw to his face, I didn't raise my tone but I kept my gaze locked to him. ".....For a runt..... Maybe...." The mans eyes flashed for a few seconds before he back off abit. "Carrie take the cub to a hut and treat them, Everret come with me. We need to have a discussion." I heard the old man speak as he turned away from me. "Hey!" I shouted one last time and the old man looked at me with a cocked eyebrow. ".... At the very least..... I respect what you've done.... I know about what the garou do for people, I can still put my pride aside to admit that maybe what your doing does have some good impact." the old man glared a bit harder as he shrugged to himself before walking off. I watched as the younger brunette woman walked up to me with a stupid smirk plastered across her face. "For a cub you have stupid amounts of either pride or stupidity talking to an elder like that." She said as She punched my shoulder. ".... I wouldn't know.... After all I've only been like this for maybe a week and half now." That response left the woman flabergasted as she looked at me. "A week and a half and you able to Traverse the umbra and locate a pack? Holy shit kid.... You must have some insane luck on your side." She said with a grimacing shrug. "No... I had.... I.... I need a phone." [[Car drive]]

My hand rested against the fabric of the car door as we cruised down the quiet highway. The faint hum of the engine was a soothing backdrop to my thoughts. The phone call with Gavin had been a massive relief, lifting a weight I hadn’t even realized was crushing me. As we made our way to pick him up, I glanced over at Carrie, who was focused on the road. She looked exhausted—her face drawn and her eyes heavy. It was 4 a.m., after all, but the moment she’d learned about Gavin, she insisted on leaving immediately to get him. [img[https://s2.best-wallpaper.net/wallpaper/1920x1200/1807/Road-trees-snow-winter-night-lights_1920x1200.jpg]] "So… Monroe is really gone?" she asked softly, her voice carrying a wince, as if even saying it aloud hurt. I nodded, unable to say the words. "Damn…" she murmured, her grip tightening on the wheel. I caught the faint shimmer of tears in her eyes. "I… I can’t imagine what Gavin’s going through." "How’d you know Monroe?" I asked after a moment. "We grew up in the same pack as kids," she said, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "Green Mill was our home. Him and Victor… they were like family to me. I can’t believe they’re both gone." She wiped at her eyes quickly, as if embarrassed to show emotion. "I never knew Victor met someone. I guess there were things Monroe never told anyone. Victor, though… I knew him as a fighter, but to settle down, have a wife and a kid…" She trailed off, her eyes fixed on the glowing streaks of light blurring past us. "If it’s any consolation, Gavin’s mom left weeks after he was born," I said, my voice quiet but steady. Carrie let out a small, bittersweet laugh. "Knowing Victor, that sounds about right. He always wanted to fix the broken. That woman probably had so much going on that no one else knew about, except maybe Victor." Her laugh softened into a sigh. "I always thought Monroe would be the fighter between them. Victor, though… he was gentle, kind—a healer, not a warrior. And Monroe? The calm, calculated tactician." I nodded slowly. "I didn’t know Victor well, but I know he loved his son. That much is clear." I hesitated, then added, "I just wish I knew where Gavin’s mother was. Maybe then he could have someone who can truly take care of him." Carrie gave me a sharp look. "What do you mean by that? From what you’ve told me, everything you’ve done so far has been for Gavin. You’ve protected him, put yourself on the line for him—hell, you’ve almost died twice to keep him safe. Believe me, I wish Leon hadn’t fallen into corruption either, but you can’t blame yourself for what happened." She paused, her gaze flickering between me and the road. "Why do you blame yourself?" I didn’t answer right away. The question hit a raw nerve. "Everyone I care about gets hurt," I said finally, the words heavy in the air. "I cared about Gavin enough to stay close to him, and because of me, his uncle was killed. Gavin paid the price for a curse no one should ever have to bear. It happened to my family… and now it’s happened to someone else. For years, I stayed alone because it was the only way to keep people safe." Carrie’s response was immediate, cutting through my self-pity like a knife. "Well, that’s bullshit, and you know it." Her bluntness startled me. "It’s not fair to yourself to take on the actions of others as your own guilt," she said firmly. "Don’t get me wrong—it’s fine to grieve in your own way. But you know what’s more selfish? Running away and hiding. Imagine what that did to your family when you just up and disappeared." I flinched at her words but couldn’t argue. She sighed, her tone softening. "At the very least, you went back for Gavin. And I think you’re missing the biggest thing in all this." I turned to her, confused. "If you hadn’t gone back, Gavin would’ve been killed," she said, her voice steady. "It’s because you went back that he’s alive. You saved him." [[Reunion]]

"River!" Gavin cried as he tightened his grip around my shoulders. His face was red and stained with tears as he shook against me. "…I… Thank you… Thank you, River..." Gavin's voice was shaky and broken as I held him close. "Thank you… for coming back..." [img[https://dells-lakeside.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/IMG_0482.jpeg]] My heart seemed to shatter under the weight of his words. We didn’t move for a good few minutes, both of us too shaken and relieved to be back together. "…So this is him?" I heard Carrie’s voice ring out behind me as she stepped into the doorway just a bit. Gavin looked startled and quickly slid behind me and back onto the bed, covering himself. "He… He looks just like Victor..." she said with a broken laugh. Gavin perked up at the mention of his father’s name. "You knew my dad?" he asked, stepping out from behind the bed. "Yeah, I did," Carrie replied, her voice soft. "And… I… I knew your uncle too. We grew up together, the three of us." A single tear rolled down her pale skin. "…Believe it or not, for a while, I dated your uncle..." My eyes widened as I looked at Carrie. That was the real reason she was so shaken. It wasn’t just because she had lost a friend but someone she once loved. "Your uncle… He was the greatest man I ever knew," she said, her voice breaking, no different than Gavin’s after he had been crying. I heard the rustle of fabric as Gavin stepped forward and gently took Carrie’s hand. "Uncle Monroe mentioned you once. You’re Carrie Dierdre, aren’t you?" Carrie seemed to crumble at the sound of her full name. She dropped to her knees and embraced Gavin. The child hesitated for a moment, but when I gave him a reassuring nod, he wrapped his arms around her in return. "He really did love you, from what I know… I’m sorry you had to find out this way," Gavin said softly as he held her close to his smaller frame. Carrie’s brown hair shook slightly at her neck as she trembled in Gavin’s arms, but she quickly composed herself. When she stood up, there was a glint of resignation in her green eyes. "It’s alright… Anyways… We should crash here. I don’t have the energy to drive us back. You don’t mind me crashing here, do you?" she asked, looking at me with a pleading smile. But Gavin was the first to respond. "Please do," he said, leaving both of us a little surprised. Carrie let out a gentle snicker as she picked the boy up and carried him further into the room. "Thanks, kid," she said with a small smile. [[New home]]

All of us were so exhausted we slept until nearly 2 in the afternoon, and even when we did wake up, it was very begrudgingly. I was the worst of us all—my body was sore, and my muscles ached with every movement. Carrie wasn’t all too surprised after hearing about how far I had pushed myself yesterday. Thankfully, overnight, my injuries had managed to heal with the help of my Garou transformation slipping in while I slept. However, exhaustion was still etched into the core of my being as I picked up the backpack Gavin and I had been living out of for the past week and a half in the hotel. [img[https://www.axiomlandbase.in/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/Karol-Bagh-Delhi-1024x477.jpg]] "You two aren’t going to live off of one backpack of clothes. Hell no," Carrie said, dragging me along while Gavin happily walked alongside us to the nearest shopping mall. "Look, these aren’t too bad," she said, passing me a pair of jeans, which I groggily looked over in my hands. She let out a frustrated huff when I handed them back to her but lit up like a firework watching Gavin hop around in a nearby dressing room, trying on an oversized sweater. "…Hey, see what you saved?" she said with a knowing smile, nodding toward Gavin. I hated to admit it, but she managed to crack a smile from me. We spent the afternoon relaxing and shopping for new stuff. Gavin was ecstatic about his new wardrobe of comfortable clothes and a couple of new books. The books were something I bought for him myself, wanting him to have something to enjoy. However, I could feel the pain in my pockets as I forked over nearly one grand in pure cash to the cashier. It was both suspicious and painful. "You spent more money on buying him a handheld gaming device than you did buying yourself a prepaid phone… That’s an interesting decision," Carrie snickered as we gathered back in the car. "All that matters is that he’s happy," I said, glancing back at Gavin’s napping figure in the back seat as we drove down the highway. I reached into my pocket and counted the remaining bills—seven grand left. I had spent three grand in the course of a week and a half. Months of pawning items, gone in days. Yet, for some odd reason, I smiled to myself as I looked at the remaining cash. I knew now that my money was being spent for the perfect reason. "Besides… I want him to have something to play with while he gets used to the Caern," I added with a shrug. "What about you?" Carrie asked, glancing at me with a curious look. "Do you plan on staying as well?" "Yeah, I do, at least while Gavin needs me to. Once I know he’s safe and comfortable, I’ll figure out what to do from there," I replied in a distant tone. "You’re still considering leaving the kid, even after all this?" Carrie asked, disappointed. "…No, I mean… Kind of… I don’t know. I know that I’m not leaving him now or anytime soon, but eventually… maybe," I said with a pained tone as the thought of leaving him weighed on me. "Then maybe it’s time you consider not running away. Ever again. Maybe it’s time you give up on your superstition and just settle into a home again—a new home," Carrie suggested firmly. [[First Transformation]]

[img[https://bearfoottheory.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/Alaska-2.jpeg]] "So let me get this straight: Leon hunted down Monroe and Gavin, and then attacked their house after becoming Wyrm-corrupted?" Carrie repeated. "Yeah, that’s the gist… though he kept mentioning the Wyrm when I knew so little," I mumbled against the window as it fogged up with dew from my breath. "Makes sense for an Ahroun; he was always a bit predisposed to violence," Carrie cursed to herself as she turned off the side of the highway and onto a smaller road. "Ahroun? What’s that?" I asked, noticing Carrie quickly perk up. "Right, you're still new to this... So, when I say Ahroun or Ragabash, I’m referring to the phase of the moon a Garou first transforms under. For Leon, he transformed under a full moon, so he’s an Ahroun that’s his auspice. The phase of the moon at the time of the first transformation is referred to as an auspice. For example, there’s me I transformed under a half-moon, so I’m a Philodox. That’s my auspice," she explained quickly. "Do you remember what moon phase it was when you transformed?" Carrie asked, causing me to run through my thoughts, trying to remember. <<if $personality == "Survivor">> [[first 3rd]] <<elseif $personality == "Leader">> [[second 3rd]] <<elseif $personality == "Guardian">> [[last 3rd]] <</if>>

<<if $nature == "Unwilling">> [[Ahroun]]] <<elseif $nature == "Neutral">> [[Frythe]] <</if>>

<<if $nature == "Unwilling">> [[Philodox]] <<elseif $nature == "Willing">> [[Galliard]] <</if>>

<<if $nature == "Nuetral">> [[Ragabash]] <<elseif $nature == "Unwilling">> [[Theurge]] <</if>>

Ragabash are the tricksters of Garou society, uniquely tasked with challenging tradition and questioning established norms. Known for their wit and cunning, they often point out flaws in others, sometimes with a lighthearted or impulsive demeanor. Whether through clever wordplay or biting sarcasm, they excel at exposing vanity and pretension. Ragabash can be playful pranksters, using humor to unsettle the status quo, or sharp cynics, openly mocking the very traditions that have shaped the Garou. Their ultimate goal is to provoke thought, disrupt complacency, and force their peers to confront uncomfortable truths—whether through humor or calculated irreverence. "Oh shit.... Well I guess having a wildcard in the pack would be nice, Always good to have an unknown variable on our side... I guess...." She said with a painful shrug. "The blank new moon ain't cursed enough, guess we have to test you just yet..." She scowled under her breath as she spoke. <<set $moon to "Ragabash">> [[New pack]]

Theurges are the mystics of Garou society, gifted with the greatest skill for communing with and understanding spirits. They may be eerie, wise, or an enigmatic blend of both. Some are dreamers or visionaries, lost in the mysteries of the spirit world, while others are ritualists who approach their work with methodical purpose. Their connection to the spirits may arise from traditional practices honed over centuries or through bold, experimental approaches. Some carry strange talismans imbued with meaning, while others enchant the spirits with subtle, deliberate gestures. Their role is vital, as they bridge the material and spiritual realms, guiding their packs through unseen worlds. "Huh... So your a theurge.... I never took you for one. I guess its becuase your so new I doubt you've ever interacted with any spirits before." Carrie spoke outloud as she said to herself. "So you transformed under the cresent moon. The wolfs slivered eye eh?" She teases. <<set $moon to "Theurge">> [[New pack]]

Galliards are the storytellers and lore-keepers of the Garou, preserving their history and upholding the spirit of the Litany through oral tradition. They bring the tales of the Garou to life, whether through dramatic performances or quiet, heartfelt storytelling. Some Galliards thrive in the spotlight, reveling in the art of embellishment to captivate their audience, while others take a more subdued approach, recounting events with meticulous attention to detail. For some, the joy lies in the performance itself; for others, it’s the power of sharing meaningful and gripping stories that drives them. "Oh, well I hope you're ready to learn a lot of stupid old stories becuase lord knows chief has some..." She says with a slight wince. "I just hope you can make em interesting once you learn our history, we have a lot of pained historys." She says with a slight disappointed sigh. "A three fourths moon, or gibbous moons always have the most complicated..." She said. <<set $moon to "Galliard">> [[New pack]]

Philodox are the judges and mediators of Garou society, entrusted with the critical role of resolving conflicts and upholding order. They are the interpreters of the Litany, deeply knowledgeable about its laws and traditions. Their approach can vary—some are calm and compassionate, seeking fairness and understanding, while others are stern and unyielding, prioritizing adherence to rules over individual circumstances. Whether they draw wisdom from centuries of legend and lore or adapt their decisions based on evolving facts, Philodox strive to balance justice with practicality, embodying the essence of impartiality and measured judgment. "Ooooh hey twinsies!"She said bashing her hand into my shoulder. "It'll be nice to have someone with another level head instead of a spiritualist nut or headstrong warrior for once." She joked out loud with a shrug. "Us half moons have to stick toghether~" She teased. <<set $moon to "Philodox">> [[New pack]]

Ahrouns are the warriors of Garou society, often looked to for leadership in times of conflict. They can be ferocious creatures of pure instinct, unleashing fangs and claws in a frenzy, or calculated tacticians who strike fear through precise, methodical approaches. To their packmates, Ahrouns may be revered as inspiring figures of bravery and fearlessness, or they might be viewed with disdain as reckless and bloodthirsty combatants. Their innate drive to protect and dominate can sometimes lead to clashes with other leaders within the pack, testing bonds and hierarchy. Regardless of how they are perceived, Ahrouns stand as living embodiments of Gaia's wrath and the unyielding will to survive. "Casimir.... I guess it makes sense, you killed leon and were able to stand up to chief with only wits and speed. But you should know... A lot is going to be expected of you once you become a full garou." She said with a hesitant warning. "Even chief himself wasn't ready to hand all the responsibilites when it came time." She winced. "The full moon is always the heaviest yet always the brightest." <<set $moon to "Ahroun">> [[New pack]]

Frythes are the steadfast guardians of Garou society, devoted to the protection and safety of their packs and families. They are defined by their unwavering loyalty and sense of duty, often placing the well-being of others above their own. Some Frythes are vigilant sentinels, always watching for potential threats, while others are fierce defenders, ready to leap into action without hesitation. Their presence may inspire comfort and trust within their pack, or they might come across as overly cautious or controlling. Whether through physical prowess, strategic foresight, or an unshakable moral code, Frythes are the shields that stand between their loved ones and harm. They embody the unyielding strength of a guardian, ensuring their pack's survival and unity in even the darkest of times. "You.... You transformed under a super moon... that's nearly impossible the amount of known Garou who are surviving Frythes are.... less then maybe one percent of all garou ever. I mean it makes sense, you ran back to protect them but the circumstances leading up to it." She said her knuckles turned white from how tight she was gripping the wheel. "Your loyalities can't be swayed, your going to be powerful but.... that power is risky becuase your so willing to give things up for.... him." She said as she looked back at Gavin sleeping in his seat. My eyes shown with something unseen in the moment, A dark determination blazed in me. <<set $moon to "Frythe">> [[New pack]]

"Anyways... What's the deal with the man I confronted back at the pack—the older dude with the beard?" I asked, glancing over at Carrie. "...That's our pack leader, Casimir," she replied, her tone shifting to something more serious. "He's older, and he was here when the pack reformed, made up of members from all over Colorado. At the Caern, you saw those old houses, right? They all belonged to former packmates that Casimir knew over the years. Every single one of them was killed. Casimir is one of maybe six remaining Garou from that generation in Colorado. He's known as... The Moonless Genocider," she added with a pained wince. "Moonless Genocider? That sounds cliché as hell," I muttered, shrugging in confusion. "He got that name after witnessing his mother's death... He killed an entire fleet of Fomori by himself. Nearly 150 of them, wiped out in a matter of minutes," she said, her voice heavy with the weight of the story. "He killed... all those things... by himself?!" I felt my blood run cold as the words sunk in. I remembered the night of my first transformation—the flames licking at my skin, the uncontrollable rage as I tore Leon apart. I thought that was raw power. But this? This was something else entirely. The blood on my hands felt like nothing compared to Casimir's. That man wasn’t just strong—he was the definition of a monster. "Are Garou... am I... are we really that powerful?" "Yes," she answered without hesitation. "Though Casimir acted on pure rage, Everett—the other man you met—knows how to harness it more strategically. Everett lives to protect us from spirits, but recently, he’s taken on the responsibility of protecting our few kin as well. Casimir uses his rage for short, deadly bursts, while Everett channels his into longer, more calculated plans," she explained with a faint smirk. "You’ll probably be learning from both of them for the general Garou stuff. As for me? I’m mostly here for emotional and moral support. I’m not the best fighter, but I can fix a broken arm on the rare occasion our healing factors don’t take care of it." "Carrie... just what am I capable of now?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper as a grim sense of unease settled over me. "River... you’re far beyond any human," she said, her expression turning somber. "You have the strength to overturn buses with one arm, the senses of a predator and hunter combined, the intuition of a human, and the instincts and ferocity of a wolf. You’re so far beyond being a normal person... you’re what humans are terrified of when they walk alone in the forest at night. The flash of light they catch between the trees? That’s you. You are predator incarnate," she paused, her eyes locking onto mine. "And if you don’t learn control... you could kill everyone you love." [[Arriving]]

"So... walk me through this again. If I manage to complete this frankly insane-sounding trial, I go from being considered what's basically a child to an adult Garou?" I asked, my frustration evident. "So to even be considered a full-fledged Garou, I need to risk my life entirely just to fill some role?" I slicked my hair back in exasperation. "It's called a Rite of Passage, and yes, in order to become a true Garou, it's something you'll have to do," Carrie explained matter-of-factly. "It's essentially a trial to prove you're strong enough to go from being a cub to a full adult Garou, regardless of your actual age. Speaking of which, your transformation is... odd," she added, clicking her tongue thoughtfully. "Most Garou shift during their preteen or teenage years because of sexual maturity, but you... you changed in your early adult years." "What—wait, is that weird?" I asked, confused. "I'm only 20. That's not bad, is it?" I glanced at her, searching for reassurance. "...River," she said carefully, "sexual maturity for us occurs between eight and fourteen. You're six years late." My eyes widened in shock. "How someone staves off transformation for that long is unprecedented. Your circumstances have so many unique quirks it's a wonder you're a Garou at all." She glanced at me as she drove, and for a moment, our eyes locked, her expression unreadable. "I mean, being from $tribe, and not to mention you're a $moon... that’s already a confusing mix of tribe and auspice," she muttered, running a hand through her hair as we pulled into a random parking lot. "Come with me. There's something I want to show you before we head back to the Caern. Don’t worry—we’re isolated out here, no risks." She turned off the car and stepped onto the snowy pavement, motioning for me to follow. I quickly checked to make sure Gavin was still sound asleep in his car seat before jogging after her into the nearby forest. We walked along a hidden path deep within the woods. "Focus yourself and concentrate on your vision," Carrie instructed firmly. "So far, you've only transformed under extreme emotion or high-stress situations." "That's not true. I've transformed into a wolf, and it wasn’t hard," I countered, earning a surprised look from her. "Then this should be easy," she replied, her tone shifting to encouragement. "Imagine having the eyes of a wolf and go from there." Closing my eyes, I listened to the sounds around me, the swirling whispers of the forest blending with the wind. Slowly, I felt a change—a quick spike of wind whipped through my hair, grazing the back of my neck like a fleeting touch. When I opened my eyes, the world had transformed. It looked almost like the Umbra, but different. "When you dove through our Moon Bridge, you entered the Deep Umbra. This is the Surface Umbra," she explained. "A place where the Umbra and Earth exist together in perfect harmony." Another gust of wind blew past us, carrying a flock of bird-like creatures that rushed overhead. "You can see them now, can’t you? The spirits of Gaia," Carrie said, her voice steady. "That’s what these things are?!" I shouted, instinctively shielding my face as the wind whipped around me. "Oh, for fuck’s sake—CUT IT OUT!" I barked, and to my amazement, the spirits scattered, veering away from us. Carrie grabbed my hand and led me deeper into the forest, the surroundings twisting and shifting until we stood before a floating island surrounded by swirling purple waters. [img[https://c.wallhere.com/photos/60/96/Magic_tree_glowing_landscape_colorful_fireflies_trees_fantasy_art_AI_art-2190509.jpg!d]] "What... is this?" I muttered, my voice filled with awe. "This is our burial site for fallen Garou allies," Carrie said softly, her sadness evident. "The entire island is a sacred burial ground. Everywhere we've walked has been a different plot." I froze, startled by the revelation. "Relax," she added with a small smile. "Garou burials are different from human ones. We seek to return to nature, so walking in it as they become part of it is considered respectful—at least to us." She stopped at a tree whose leaves shifted colors, cycling between vibrant green and bright pink. Catching a falling leaf, she held it out to me. The leaf pulsed in her hand, shifting and shimmering as if alive. "These leaves... each one grows and falls for a different Garou born and lost. When a leaf falls, it means another has passed. This one... I think it’s Monroe’s. I can sense him on you, River. You carry his will now," she said, placing the leaf in my palm. To my shock, it blossomed into a radiant purple flower. "You carry on what he stood for. In Gavin, Monroe’s will has blossomed," she said, gently closing my fingers around the flower. "That night, did you say anything to him before he..." Her voice trailed off, her eyes searching mine. "I... it doesn’t matter. Whatever I would’ve said wouldn’t have changed anything," I muttered, staring at the flower as it began to wilt. "But in that moment, I did promise him I’d try. I just... I wish I could’ve thanked him," I added, my voice breaking slightly. As I opened my hand, the petals caught the wind, lifting into the air before gently settling onto the water, sinking into the purple depths below. "I think he knows now," Carrie said with a smile, watching the petals disappear. "A new seed will take form, allowing you to carry on his will, River." The wind stirred my hair, and for a fleeting moment, I swore I saw him in the leaves—Monroe’s face, smiling peacefully as he walked into the water. [[Housing]] [[In Remeberance: A Dedication]]

We walked back to the car, and I spotted Gavin standing by the door, staring at the path we’d just taken. I gently hoisted him onto my shoulders as we continued down toward the lake. This time, the route took us through a hidden path, secluded from humans. Defunct signs and "Employees Only" barriers marked the area, but we bypassed them effortlessly, walking along a rocky trail until we reached the lake's edge. Carrie’s eyes shimmered as she gazed over the water. When I focused, I saw it too—the lake’s true form. A massive vortex spiraled upward into the sky, its waters alive with the swirling movement of birds all around it. I watched as Carrie stepped onto the lake’s surface. Her feet floated atop the water as if it were solid, and with each step forward, she became enveloped in a shimmering blue aura. The misty light swallowed her whole, leaving only ripples behind. “Gavin, close your eyes and don’t open them until I say so,” I instructed. Gavin buried his face in the crook of my neck as I took my first step onto the water. It shifted beneath my feet, unsteady yet supportive, as I moved forward. My heart pounded as the wind whipped around me, and suddenly, I felt something bulge beneath me. For a brief moment, I saw the yellow eyes of a creature staring up from the lake’s depths. Then, before I could react, I was swallowed whole. I clenched my jaw, biting back a scream as freezing mist surrounded me. Just as quickly as it began, it was over. I found myself standing on solid ground, rocks crunching beneath my boots. “Gavin, you can open your eyes now,” I said, setting him down on the shoreline. Turning around, I caught sight of a shadow swimming deeper into the vortex before disappearing entirely. My shoulders tensed as I watched it sink back into the water. Finally, Gavin and I made our way back to the Caern. The sky was a dull, hazy blue, the sun dipping low on the horizon. Wooden houses lined our path, their rustic charm accentuated by strange symbols and decorations on their porches. “River... this place is crazy,” Gavin murmured in awe, his wide eyes taking in the fusion of magic and rustic cabins. “It’s like a lucid dream...” There was a sense of wonder in his voice that made me grip his hand a little tighter. As we walked further into the makeshift village, an older man approached us—Casimir. His silver-streaked hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, complementing his broad shoulders and the snug fit of his shirt. His ripped jeans cut off just above his ankles, revealing leather shoes that seemed well-worn yet sturdy. Casimir’s sharp eyes shifted to Gavin before he fully approached. “Welcome, both of you—especially you, Gavin Rivera,” he said, extending a hand toward Gavin. Before he could make contact, I caught his wrist, meeting his gaze with a cold stare. “I’d appreciate it if you let me do my job without interfering,” he growled, his tone irritated. I opened my mouth to retort, but Gavin tugged on my hand, stopping me. Begrudgingly, I stepped back, allowing Gavin to approach Casimir. The boy shook the old wolf’s hand firmly. “Please, allow me to extend our gratitude for seeking us out so willingly,” Casimir said with a solemn nod. “We accept you with open arms. Follow Carrie—she’ll show you where you’ll be staying.” “What about River?” Gavin asked quickly, his voice tinged with concern. Casimir’s frustration was evident as he replied, “Your guardian will be situated in separate housing for the pack’s safety.” “No.” The single word caught us all off guard. Gavin’s voice was steady, his expression unwavering. Casimir and I both stared at him in stunned silence. “I respect your decision and your concerns for everyone’s safety,” Gavin continued, “but River is my family. If you insist on separating us, then I must reject your invitation. I’m either with River or not here at all.” His tone was firm yet passionate, filled with a maturity beyond his years. Casimir’s expression faltered, a flicker of conflict crossing his face. “What if I stayed in a house closer to Gavin, and he could visit me whenever he wanted?” I suggested without thinking. Both Gavin and Casimir looked at me in surprise. “As much as I hate to admit it, I understand your reasoning, but Gavin should have a say in this. Not you, not me—him.” Casimir regarded me with an intrigued gaze. “I’ll stay in any house within neighboring distance of Gavin. Is that fair enough?” After a long pause, the old wolf sighed in resignation. “If it’s acceptable to Gavin, then yes, I can agree to that arrangement.” Gavin nodded quickly, his happiness evident. “Follow Carrie. She’ll take you both to where you’ll be staying—separately,” Casimir instructed, nodding toward Carrie. She rolled her eyes in frustration but gestured for us to follow her down the path. [[New House]]

I pushed open the cabin door with my shoulder, grimacing as I took in the sight of my new home. Out of the two available cabins, I had chosen the one closest to Gavin, convinced that proximity was more important than comfort. In hindsight, that decision had landed me in a dilapidated junk heap of a house. [img[https://i.ytimg.com/vi/JPaHtwmAGns/maxresdefault.jpg]] The living room was a mess of cobwebs and rust-covered metal furniture. As I surveyed the chaos, my frustration boiled over. “Son of a—” I muttered, gripping a rusty metal cabinet. I tugged it away from a blocked door with all my strength, but the unwieldy thing tipped dangerously. “Shit!” I yelped, struggling to stop it from crashing down. Just as I braced myself for disaster, the cabinet stopped mid-fall. “As much as I’d enjoy watching this little comedy of errors play out, I can’t let my newest ward get crushed on my watch,” a voice drawled. The cabinet was effortlessly lifted and set aside. I looked up to see the man who had come to my aid—Everett. I remembered him clearly as the wolf who had apologized to me earlier. “Now get up,” Everett said gruffly, grabbing my hand. With a swift yank, he pulled me to my feet and nudged me forward. “Come on already,” he continued, leading the way deeper into the house. “If this place is going to be livable, I’m not letting you slack off. You’re doing as much as I am.” I followed him to what seemed to be the bedroom, where we got to work. For the next half hour, we cleaned, organized, and replaced what we could. A new mattress on a sturdy wooden bedframe replaced the old, decayed one, and we threw on some handmade sheets. Everett worked quietly, screwing shelves into the wall with practiced efficiency, while I tackled other tasks. Finally, I mustered the courage to speak. “Excuse me... Everett?” I asked hesitantly. He grunted, not looking up from his work. Taking it as a signal to continue, I pressed on. “I wanted to introduce myself. I’m... River.” Saying my name aloud for the first time in years felt strange, as if it didn’t quite belong to me. “I’m assuming Carrie’s already told you everything about me,” Everett growled, setting his screwdriver down and picking up a bag from the floor. “She’s a blabbermouth like that.” “No, she didn’t say much, actually,” I admitted, trailing after him as he headed back outside. “That’s why I’m asking you now.” To my surprise, I saw a small couch sitting on the porch. “Grab that end,” Everett ordered. “Lift on my word.” I quickly did as he asked. “All right,” he said bluntly as we hoisted the couch. “I’ll say this once, so don’t make me repeat myself. I’m thirty-two years old, a theurge, and this pack’s protector. Got it?” “Got it,” I said, nodding as we carried the couch into the living room. Setting it down, I added, “Well, I’m twenty and a $moon. I wanted to ask you about some things... I don’t know much, to be honest.” [[What is a pack]]

"Look I get where werewolves but I still don't get how this whole pack thing works? like Carrie makes it sound like a group of strangers coming toghether or something." I said confused. "Well thats how they start, All packs are formed of different garou from different tribes and backgrounds coming toghether for a common goal. Generally to protect an area of some sort of combat something. but overtime packs either fizzle out or in our case, more members join and eventually the pack becomes a small unit. that unit goes from being strangers to family." Everett said as he dusted off the mantel. "Our pack existed durring the gold rush and faded out, but our chief Casimir and a couple of his old childhood friends brought it back toghether with some other colorado garou and rebuilt it our glory days.... The days we had nearly 20 garou all in Lake View and Green mill. But issues and interpersonal conflict arose and people split off forming there own packs... Others were killed. Things changed and we got weaker, the pack got weaker." He said on a side tangent. "But that doesn't matter, I like to think of a pack as.... found family, if you find a true pack a genuine one. Every sibling you have will become a friend or eventually family. We don't function like wolves normally, we function as a collective group. Once it was to protect green mill and Lake View.... now its to try and survive another day." He said with an exhuasted sigh. "Found family... I know that feeling, at least I think I do now..." I say as I look out the window and across to Carries house, I could only imagine what the two where doing right now. ".... You've got guts kid, protecting a child you didn't know.... I can respect that, but don't think you've won me over with that act. I'm going to put you through hell so you can survive, it ain't easy being garou and I want you to know what it's like out there." He said with a growl. "But first I'm curious.... What kept you going once everything went to shit?" <<if $personality == "Survivor">> [[Surviving]] <<elseif $personality == "Leader">> [[Redemption]] <<elseif $personality == "Guardian">> [[Protecting Gavin]] <</if>>

"I just got my life back," I said, my voice steady yet laced with emotion. "I’m starting to realize that I don’t have to keep suffering just because I felt guilty for what happened before. I’ve finally understood that I have just as much right to be happy as anyone else. And because of Gavin... I’m starting to feel that happiness for the first time in forever. It’s something I want to hold onto and keep experiencing." I shrugged with a small, content smile. "Call it selfish if you want—I don’t care. Gavin makes me happy, and I know I do the same for him. That’s all that matters now." Everett tilted his head slightly, his piercing gaze cutting through my words. "So, you’re living on to experience a fleeting emotion now?" he asked. "Carrie told me you protected the kid with your life, no real reason behind it. Now you’re telling me that reason turned into chasing happiness from the kid?" I met his scrutiny head-on. "You said a pack is a found family," I began, my voice unwavering. "And if there’s one thing I know about family, it’s that they make you happy. Gavin makes me happy... so Gavin is my family now." I stood firm, my stance reflecting my resolve. "I chose to protect him that day, maybe out of nowhere, maybe just an act of kindness. But I knew in that moment—and I still know now—that if I were sent back to that moment, I wouldn’t hesitate. Not ever." Everett’s expression didn’t shift, but his next question came sharp and sudden. "How far would you go to keep that happiness safe?" I faltered for a second, caught off guard by the bluntness. "I mean," he continued, his tone even and unyielding, "you killed Leon because he threatened Gavin. From the way you’re talking, it sounds like you did it just to protect your happiness. Is that really how far you’re willing to go to keep someone who makes you happy safe?" His words hung heavy in the air, piercing straight through to my core. "...I’d give my life," I said at last, my voice steady and certain. "Yes, Gavin makes me happy. But he’s also the living embodiment of my happiness—everything I’ve fought for and care about. If it ever came down to it, between me and Gavin, I’d choose him. And honestly... I’d be happy with that choice. Knowing someone gets to stay safe because of me? That would be enough." [[Gavin's Sake]]

"I made a promise to Monroe the night he was killed," I said, my voice cold and unwavering. "That man gave his life to protect Gavin, just as I did when I fought off Leon the first time. He made the ultimate sacrifice to keep his nephew and a random stranger safe. Even if his intention was only to protect Gavin, he still saved my life in the process. I owe him everything, and I intend to repay that debt. Protecting Gavin is the least I can do." I could feel the weight of my words as they hung in the air, my gaze fixed on Everett. "That promise is the reason I endured my first transformation. It’s the reason I risked my life finding you all. And it’s a choice I don’t regret—not for a second." Everett chuckled low, a sharp smirk forming on his face. "Heh, alright... then let me ask you this. Would you kill Leon again?" "Yes," I said without hesitation, the firmness in my voice startling Everett. "Even after everything you’ve said about guilt and second chances?" he pressed, raising an eyebrow. I nodded, my expression unyielding. "If Leon ever dared to threaten Gavin again, I’d do whatever it takes to stop him. Yes, I feel guilty for taking a man’s life. But if it comes down to protecting Gavin, I wouldn’t hesitate. I’d take his life as many times as I have to, all to keep Gavin safe." Everett’s smirk faded slightly as he studied me, his eyes searching mine. "You’ve got conviction, I’ll give you that," he said after a pause. "But understand this—protecting someone you care about sometimes means more than brute force. You’ve made your stance clear, but the real challenge will be living with that choice if it ever comes down to it again." I took a slow, deep breath, his words settling in my chest like a cold weight. "I’ve already lived with the choice once," I replied. "And I’ll live with it again if it means keeping Gavin alive. His life is worth more than my guilt. That’s something I’ll never forget." [[Gavin's Sake]]

"...I was given a second chance to finally make things right with my pathetic excuse of a life," I said, my voice trembling slightly, though my chest felt solid, each word reverberating within me. "For once, someone gave me a shot—despite everything I’ve done, everything I’ve suffered through. I swore I wouldn’t give up on myself anymore. I want this second chance. I want to use it to live a life I can finally be proud of." The weight of the admission pressed on me, but it also lightened something deep inside. "At least this way," I continued, "maybe I won’t feel horrible every time I hear my own name or look in the mirror. Maybe I’ll be able to look at myself with some pride, knowing I did something good with the second chance I was given. What exactly I end up doing—I don’t know, and I don’t care. What matters is that I do something positive." I grit my teeth and met Everett’s steady gaze, a fire of determination burning in mine. “Well, shit,” Everett said after a moment, leaning back and folding his arms. “You fight to live. I can admire that, kid. But don’t fool yourself into thinking a second chance is all you need. You’ve got to work for it—and it seems like you already understand that. The kid is proof enough of that.” His lips curved into a half-smile, though his tone remained measured. “I think you haven’t quite realized what you’re doing to redeem yourself yet, but you’re on the right track. That much is clear. Still... it’s like you said: in the end, it doesn’t matter to you all that much. I think that’s a little foolhardy. But it shows you’re willing to keep fighting, no matter the cost. That, I can respect.” Everett stood up, brushing his hands together as though shaking off invisible dust. He looked me over, his sharp eyes taking me in with an unreadable expression. “Before we start training tomorrow, I want to leave you with a question,” he said, pausing as he reached the door. “Don’t answer me now; I just want you to think about it. Do you think you deserve that second chance?” The question struck me like a blade, cold and precise, cutting through my resolve for just a moment. After a beat, I found my voice again, though quieter this time. “...I don’t know the answer to that,” I said honestly, the weight of the question hanging between us. Then, I added, “But I do know it doesn’t matter.” Everett stopped at the door, his back to me, waiting. “All that matters is that I do something with it,” I said, my tone growing firmer. “And I am doing something. Whether it was finding this pack or protecting Gavin—it doesn’t matter what it was. I’m here, and I’m doing it.” [[Gavin's Sake]]

I'm not editing this becuase I'm doing this in honor of a friend. I don't know much of his passing if anything besides the reason being self inflicted. I only wish to convey my feelings to a dear friend who I told about this project and wrote this entire section for. So in honor of the man I once knew under the nickname "Dorito" I write this passage for him so that for what little I knew of him he can be remebered in a positive light. He was a genuinely kind person who expressed interest in my hobbies and activaties, he was even one of the few people I told properly when I started making the demo for this game. I write this in honor of calling you a friend and that I hope wherever you are now, on some level you can rest from it all. Rest from the stress and fear those final hours you must've felt, rest your heart and mind and that in another life you can live to your senior years to your bestest lenghts. I don't write this to take pride in knowing you, but to take pride that I was one of the people you liked talking to, though I never knew you all to well I do know this. life will always be precious, life will always meaning and its a cruel fate when we take it from ourselves. I understand you have your reasons, I only wish that in the moment it all ended you were happy. I write this in honor of a man I knew and called a friend for what little connection we shared. I hope that in your final moments, you were able to smile for the moments of good in your life and that I hope that maybe, just maybe your reading this from wherever you are and that your happy there. You were a good friend, a good person, what happened to you and drove you to the end of your life is a cruel bastard. I only hope that know you rest. in memory of the day I found out of the death of a dear friend and mutual, "Dorito" December 10th, 9:04pm: A man I refuse to let go without a good final sendoff. For those of you who read this section I offer a word of advice, Life is precious and those connections that are fleeting are still important to us. If you have a friend you haven't talked to in a while, message them and check in on them, Every life is precious. [[Housing]]

I was shocked when my door was suddenly bashed open and Gavin rushed in, the boy was wearing a massive grin as he approached me. [img[https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a3/6d/3c/a36d3c9c9557e2562c24d74d04f76b05.jpg]] "Aunt Carrie gave me something, look it!" Gavin happily shouted as he pushed a necklace in my face. It was just below my own necklace I gave him—a fang made of a shiny, intricate metal with a curved slash in the middle. "She said it's a minor fetish. Supposedly, it acts as a talisman that summons the spirits of family members to protect you. It's just like the necklace you gave me!" he said happily. "....But.... she did tell me that they summon the person who means the most to me.... So....." I was shocked as Gavin's arms wrapped up around me and hooked both necklaces around my throat. "... I don't need protection, you do.... And you gave yours to me when I needed it most.... So it's only fair if I do the same in return~" the child said with a happy smile. I felt the cold metal of the necklaces stinging against my skin as they came to a rest on my chest. "But she gave this one to you, kiddo. You sure you don't wanna keep it?" I said as I looked over at Gavin, watching him settle into my lap on the couch. "No, I'm sure, River..... Uncle Monroe asked you of all people to protect me... And if protecting me comes at the risk of your life... I want you to have every boon you can on your side..." he murmured into my shoulder as he yawned. "Besides.... I'm not a Garou.... I don't.... fi-" He couldn't finish his sentence before curling up into my bed and falling asleep. I gently pulled the blanket I had been given over him. I heard the door to my house close as I did so. "He's a sweet kid.... I only wish I could do more for him," Carrie said with a pained crack in her voice as she spoke. "He's lost so much... And with Monroe gone... I mean, we don't even know where his mother is," she said. "...Maybe... but I refuse to give up on him. I still have a heartbeat, so I can still fight for him," I say as I stand up and look her down as I walked next to her. "I.... Maybe a part of me is clinging so hard to it that it's bordering on obsession, but I don't care. Gavin is my purpose until I find something more life-changing." I grab the necklaces hung around my neck as I do so. "Come on... I think it's time we solidify this change for you," she says, waving me to follow after her. [[Carrie's house]]

Her house was cozy, almost. Plush rugs lined the floor with intricate and tribal patterns scribbled all over them. Heavy-set curtains with a fireplace coughing up occasional embers into the metal grate. Thankfully, it wasn't much of a fire hazard since it was so heavily separated from anything flammable. Her walls were old, worn brick with tapestries hung from the walls and paintings with yellowed edges. It looked like the inside of a fairytale cottage almost; it was just missing the magical spark in the air. [img[https://inspiredetail.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/11/30-Top-Rural-Style-Decor-Ideas-to-Update-Your-Home-7.jpg]] "When I was still a kid... My mother taught me how to sew... Not to know anything maternal but to know how to weave together stories. When I can't cope or deal with something, I sew. If I can't understand something, it's like second nature to me," she says as she pulled out a massive plastic tote box filled with fabrics and old threads. "It's one of the few things I liked about my mom... She taught me the one thing I know that keeps me sane..." she said with a scowl as she moved the tote aside and dug in even further. "But... that's not why you're here... You bought new clothes, I know that already, but when you're here... you should have something more befitting a Garou... At least when you feel like it," she said as she pulled out an old cardboard box. "These clothes... They belonged to the three of us, me, Victor, and Monroe," she said as she pushed it over to me. "Originally, I made them... By hand to represent our connections but... They're sitting here collecting dust, so I might as well give 'em a purpose now," she said as she opened it. I could see 4 different stacks. Each a different set of clothing with different styles. A myriad of different colored shirts with inscribed patterns and sigils. Which should I choose? [[The Punk]] [[The Vagabond]] [[The Woodsman]]

Digging further into the box, I uncovered a worn leather bomber jacket, the rich black material cracked in places, giving it a rugged, lived-in look. I held it up by the shoulders, letting the jacket unfold, its weight surprisingly light despite its durability. The leather was supple, the kind that only got better with age, each scuff and crease telling a quiet story of use and wear. Silver zippers lined the front and cuffs, their shine dulled over time but still catching the light with an edge of rebellion. Beneath the jacket lay a pair of ripped jeans, frayed at the knees and faded into soft, washed-out charcoal. The tears were natural, not forced—the kind of wear that only comes from actually living in them. I ran my thumb across the fabric near one of the knee holes, feeling the threads worn loose, rough to the touch but not yet falling apart. They were well-loved and perfectly broken in. Underneath it all was a plain black T-shirt, its cotton fabric soft and slightly oversized. A simple design, no logos or patterns, just a classic tee that could blend into anything. It added a casual ease to the outfit, tying everything together with an understated simplicity. <<set $style = Punk>> [[Damn good]] [[Something else]]

I reached into the box and carefully pulled out a deep brown pea coat, the weight of the polyester fabric resting solidly in my hands. The material felt sturdy yet smooth, well-crafted with an attention to detail that gave it a timeless quality. I turned it over, running my fingers along the seams and edges, feeling how the coat carried a certain heft—like it was built for durability as much as style. Beneath the coat, a pair of neatly folded khakis caught my eye. The muted tan fabric was crisp yet soft, a perfect complement to the darker shade of the coat. I set the pea coat aside gently, my curiosity leading me deeper into the stack. Beneath the khakis, a charcoal turtleneck sweater lay waiting, its fine knit texture begging to be touched. The sweater was sleek and substantial, its thick weave promising warmth and comfort against the cold. Holding the full set together—coat, khakis, and sweater—I took a moment to appreciate the balance between form and function. The fabric of each article was heavy yet refined, exuding an understated elegance that gave the ensemble a quiet confidence. It wasn’t flashy or overdone, but something about it felt deliberate, as though it had been crafted for someone who needed to move through the world with survival in mind. <<set $style = Vagabond>> [[Something else]] [[It'll work]]

Toward the bottom of the box, I found a thick, forest-green cardigan. The knit fabric was heavy and textured, stitched with a subtle, repeating cable pattern that ran down its length. It felt sturdy but soft in my hands—clearly made to last. I held it up, letting its weight settle across my arms. The sleeves were a little loose, meant for layering, and the deep pockets on either side made it as practical as it was comfortable. It was the kind of sweater you could pull on during a chilly morning and not want to take off for the rest of the day. Beneath the cardigan lay a long-sleeved, earth-toned shirt in a durable, moisture-wicking material. It was simple, without any unnecessary frills—just a clean, practical design in muted brown. The fabric was lightweight but tough, meant to hold up whether you were hiking through thick brush or just working around the house. The sleeves were slightly tapered to keep them snug against the wrists, perfect for staying out of the way while getting your hands dirty. Finally, I found a pair of pull-apart cargo pants—a deep, slate-gray color. The material was thick but flexible, built for movement. Zippers ran across the thighs, allowing the pants to convert into shorts when the day got too warm. Large pockets lined the sides, the kind of pockets that could carry tools, snacks, or just about anything you’d need while spending time outdoors. They were practical, sturdy, and versatile without drawing attention to themselves. <<set $style = Woodsman>> [[I'll make do]] [[Something else]]

"Yeah this'll work for me." I say with a thumbs up as I sling the clothes over my shoulder. I look over at Carrie with a knowing nod and she nodded back slipping the box back under the bed. <<set $fashion to "vagabond">> [[New morning]]

"This I can make work in some damn good outfits... Been a while sense I've actually owned clothes for a more fashion sense." I say with a cheeky grin as I Watch Carrie put the box under the bed. <<set $fashion to "punk">> [[New morning]]

"It's practical... I like that." I say as I swing the cardigan over my shoulders and stow the rest of the clothes under my elbow. Carrie nods with a greatful look as she pushes the clothes back under the bed. <<set $fashion to "woods">> [[New morning]]

My eyes caught onto a smaller stack; it was stuffed off to the very corner of the box with no really noteworthy articles in it as I picked up one of the articles for myself. A long red cardigan sprawled itself out in my hands with faded brass buttons lining the edge, cuffed sleeves with intricate spiral patterns lining the edge. It even had a silver-looking pin on the collar. "Oh shit... That’s... That was Victor's jacket. I didn't know I had it... I made it for him before he left me and Monroe for his first deployment. He sent it back halfway through with bullet holes in it and said he refused to let such a gorgeous piece of clothing get ruined... Hahah, how cliché," she said as she gently fondled the edge of the jacket. "I think... Yeah, it still does..." she said as she unfurled one of the edges and revealed faint golden embroidery on the edge. "VCM?... Victor, Carrie, Monroe...?" I said as she nodded to me. "It was the smallest thing I had ever embroidered. I even swiped real gold-lined thread to make it from my mother's stash..." she said with a fond look as she stood up and draped it over me. The jacket was two sizes too big and had a fur-lined collar, but something about it was comforting to wear. As if the massive jacket wasn't big enough, I picked at the pin and adjusted it to sit right on my neck. I cuffed up the sleeves to stop at my wrists. "It's actually really comfortable," I said as I stood up and looked myself over in a mirror. "Keep it," Carrie said with a pained shrug. "I mean, don't get me wrong, it's nice to keep a reminder of Victor, but that jacket needs a home. Gavin has Monroe's jacket, so it only makes sense you have something equal to that," she said as she buttoned down the jacket to my body. "Just keep it safe, alright?" she said with a worn smile as she, too, looked me over in the mirror. "You know, even if you aren't Victor... I still see a lot of him in you. The determination and loyalty... Victor was the gold standard of what a real Garou should be. I can only hope you take after him in those aspects," she said with her pained smile. "Good night, River." She waved to me as I walked out of her house and arrived back at my own. I gently hung the jacket on the side of my bedpost as I sat down next to the sleeping Gavin, looking him over. Finally, I slipped in beside him and fell asleep with an arm wrapped around his shoulders. <<set $Victor to "true''>> [[New morning]]

I felt my eyes crack open just a sliver, the warm sunlight lazily spilling across my back. My clothes from the previous night clung to my shoulders as I sat up, stretching against the stiffness in my muscles. The faint crackling of fire and the mouthwatering smell of bacon drifted through the air, pulling me fully awake. My stomach growled in agreement as I shuffled over to my bag, hastily throwing on a fresh set of clothes—a light tank top and gray joggers—before heading into the hallway. The scent of food guided me like a beacon, growing stronger with every step. "Alright, flip it now! Don’t let it burn!" came a familiar voice from the kitchen. As I stepped through the doorway, a plume of steam hit me in the face, momentarily blinding me. I waved it away and squinted, spotting Gavin standing on a step stool in front of the wood stove, spatula in hand, and Carrie hovering behind him like an enthusiastic coach. "That's it! Give it a good second... aaaand FLIP!" Carrie cheered as Gavin flipped an enormous slice of bacon with surprising precision. The two of them grinned down at the sizzling stove, their joy radiating through the small kitchen. Carrie leaned over, cracking eggs into the pan and sending another loud hiss through the room. “Oh, River, you’re up!” Carrie said, noticing me at the doorway. Her tone was light, almost sing-song. “Go get cleaned up—shower’s down the hall!” She didn’t give me a chance to respond before sweeping Gavin up into her arms and twirling him in the air, both of them laughing. Before I could argue, Carrie turned her attention back to me, shooing me with exaggerated gestures. “Go shower, stinky!” she commanded with a mischievous grin. “So much for the fresh clothes…” I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes as I made my way to the bathroom. [img[https://i.pinimg.com/originals/dd/b9/55/ddb9556148a47faaf53ba76e5e04a60c.jpg]] The water startled me at first, ice-cold as it poured from the old showerhead, but after a moment, it warmed to a comfortable heat. I sighed deeply, letting the water wash away the dirt and tension from the last few days. “Alright… maybe this wasn’t such a bad suggestion,” I admitted to myself as I reached for the small caddy hanging by the curtain. The soap was a hand-pressed bar, rough but fragrant, smelling faintly of burnt wood and coffee. It wasn’t the most luxurious option, but it got the job done. I grabbed a bottle of shampoo from the caddy, its label faded from years of use. <<if $hair == "longl">> I pulled the hair off from my shoulders and back and ran some of the liquid through the bangs and let is cascade down my skin a bit as I did so. It took a few mnutes to completely scrub it free of the nasty stuff but when I did it was sleek and soft. An almost addicting feeling to run my hands through as I did so. <<elseif $hair == "short">> I grabbed the bottle and dumped some of the soap and slicked it back into my which I scrubbed down to my neck. Short hair was suck a blessing being quick and easy to scrub down completely and condition just after. It was nice to see that the Garou at least knew that it was important to have a difference for shampoo and conditioner. <</if>> Once my hair was taken care of, I moved on to my skin, scrubbing down with the soap bar. Its rough texture was a little abrasive, but it left my skin clean and faintly scented. The rustic aroma lingered as I stepped out of the shower, grabbing the towel hanging on the bar. Drying off, I could hear Gavin’s and Carrie’s laughter echoing down the hall. Their carefree joy brought a small smile to my face. Despite everything, moments like these made it all feel a little less heavy. I slipped back into my clean clothes, grateful they had stayed fresh despite Carrie’s earlier insistence. [[Breakfast]]

I trudged out to the kitchen and walked right into the room, my nostrils filling with the potent smell of bacon grease and salty hashbrowns. I could feel my mouth drooling as I stepped into the warm kitchen to see Gavin and Carrie prepping the table with wood-carved plates and weirdly detailed wooden forks and sharp, glinting knives. "Ooh, River, finally! Come on, come on!" Carrie said excitedly as she dragged me to the set-up table just in front of the open window. Sunlight cascaded through the window and onto the faint, smudged wood beneath my fingers. My jaw dropped at everything decked out on my plate—hashbrowns, thick and crispy bacon, fluffy eggs topped with cheese, and browned toast lined with butter. "Come on, don't just stare—dig in, fiesty~" Carrie said with an elbow to my side. It didn’t take any further warnings before I was face-deep in the plate. A fast-food egg sandwich was okay, but goddammit, I missed home-cooked food. Clearly, both Gavin and I agreed as we wolfed down the food like vacuums, with Carrie only rolling her eyes. "I swear I only agreed to this because Gavin told me you two had been living off fast food the last few weeks. You’re lucky he's so damn cute~" she said, winking at Gavin. "What do you mean, agreed to?" I said, looking up confused. "Make you and Gavin food from here on out, genius!~" she said with a gruff snicker. "I refuse to let you feed this child straight fast food, and it’s important for him to learn how to cook for himself," she said as she bit into her own toast. She dangled her fork in my direction. "Besides... it’s nice to actually eat with real people again. Everett is always so busy, and Casimir is just... a gruff man," she said with an annoyed sigh. I felt a bit awkward as I heard this but tried to ignore it. I quickly tried to come up with a change of topic. "So... what happens for me now?" I said to Carrie, who quickly perked up. "Oh, well, you'll start training with Casimir and Everett on mostly the basics. Hopefully, you'll be more with Everett. He's much better than Casimir is at actually handling things," she said with a playful grin. "But don’t you worry, I’ll be watching Gavin the entire time, and I’ll make sure something is here for you at the end of the day," she said with a cheery smile. [[Outdoors]]

I walked out of the house as Carrie had told me Everett would be stopping by as soon as he was available. I looked in shock to see a wooden chair and mat outside my door, sitting there waiting for me, with a note hanging off one of the knobs on the chair. [img[https://i.pinimg.com/originals/e3/33/f5/e333f57393a080723af58d7702b846f4.png]] "It was gathering dust in one of the old storage sheds. Figured you could make use of it instead of it going to waste. -Everett." I looked over the inked paper with a bit of a shrug. I set the note back inside as I glanced at Carrie and Gavin cleaning up. Walking back out, I looked over the chair. It was whittled down and made with a nice polish, glinting under the sunlight. As I inspected it, I could hear footsteps getting closer and closer to me with every passing second. "What do you think? I made it with an old friend back in high school," he said with a smug grin on his face. To think the man was expressing emotion to me was a bit surprising. "I'm damn proud I was able to make it at that age—top of my class in woodworking~," he said, puffing his chest out. "Uh... yeah, it's cool," I said with an awkward shrug, only to be met with an annoyed growl in response. "It's more than cool. I engraved this chair with the help of our old packmates. It's inscribed with their pack names and dates of birth. This chair is a connection to our old allies, and it's just 'cool'?" he said with a roll of his eyes. "Well... I didn't really know that... to be fair," I said. He quickly blinked a bit before sighing. "Right, it keeps skipping my mind that you're so new to all of this. Most cubs are raised with a pack, but not you... I guess it makes sense you wouldn't know all this. But that's why I'm here. I understand things have been physically difficult for you up until now, but I'm going to teach you what you need to know about Garou to help protect Colorado as best you can," he said as he puffed up his chest again. "So tell me, what do you know?" he asked with an expectant look. [[Training]]

"How the hell are you even alive?" Everett looked at me with shocked eyes filled with terror. "Not only did you jump into a dead Moon Bridge, but you tried to confront a Black Spiral Dancer completely on your own when an adult Garou was killed in the previous battle?!" He stared at me, and I could feel my heartbeat spike in anger as he commented on Monroe's death. "...I did what I could. You weren't there, so how would you know?" I said with a slight growl to my voice. Everett quickly pulled himself back and sighed. "I guess you're right... I suppose it only makes sense emotionally to have such a powerful reaction. Though I guess that's what I get for attempting to use logic on the mind of a cub," he said with a confused scratch on his neck. "But that's gonna change. I'll teach you what I do best for this pack: thinking." He quickly pulled himself together and huffed. "Now come with me. I want to show you something." I followed after him as we walked down the grassy paths for a bit. "Obviously, you know this is our Caern, but I should explain what exactly this place is. This place is known as the Spire View Caern. Originally, it was a focal point during the gold rush for Garou all across Colorado—hence the dozens of houses. But obviously, time passed, and the pack faded as well until Casimir and his generation brought it back to strength." We came to a stop in front of a small stone obelisk. "This is our so-called Spire. It's a relic from the days of the biggest gathering of Garou in Colorado history. They were known as the Crescent Moon Lodge. Any pack that bore one of these spires was considered part of the lodge itself. Casimir and his generation attempted to bring the lodge back, but strife and conflict kept things from happening, and unfortunately, a lot of Garou have gone solo out of fear of being killed," he said, pointing to the spire. "We took on the moniker of the Moon Spire Pack thanks to Casimir and his generation. Basically, this pack only exists because of Casimir and his old friends," Everett said. "They followed through with the Litany in attempts to reestablish a connection to the Garou Nation as a whole, but... Garou are difficult people to talk with, so it failed. But that doesn't matter. So long as we have Casimir, we still have a chance at surviving," he said hopefully. "But... I thought Garou were supposed to protect the Earth? Why aren't you guys doing anything directly?" I said, confused. "Well, there are two reasons. One is that the Litany exists. The Litany is basically the set of basic rules for Garou to follow. Break the Litany, and you break the laws, just like humans. If I had to summarize the Litany, it's this: don't tell any human you're Garou, and don't be stupid," he said with a slight smile. "The second is... the pack hasn't had enough connections or people to actually influence anything," he said with a tinge of regret. "It's time you learned the biggest threat We've been facing these last few years." Everett said. [[The cove]]

On the shores back near the vortex water portal, I followed Everett up to a massive plank of wood with engravings on it. "I'm assuming Carrie taught you Umbral vision already?" he said with a tint of hope in his voice, and he sighed with relief when I nodded yes. "Then have at it. Just look at the board, and I'll explain," he said, stepping to the side. When I opened my eyes once more, I was met with glowing golden sigils on the board, the thin golden lines spilling out into the open air. "This plaque is a recollection of the threat to Green Mill and Lake View—a tribe of Black Spiral Dancers known as Zillah Saskia," he said with a wince. I watched as a massive sigil spiraled out into a woven image of a massive wolf bound to a pillar of wood. "During the gold rush, the native wolves had conflicts with colonizing wolves. But some took pity. The Aborigines agreed to teach the Garou of genuine nature and offered kinship. So those of genuine and kind nature were accepted as Garou and helped to form the Crescent Moon Lodge in tandem with the native Garou of this land. But human colonizers and those Garou who truly denied the truth... they slaughtered and segregated the original Garou of the land," he said with disgust. "Some preferred not to intervene and watched from the sidelines as the native Garou were slaughtered and killed by the English colonizer Garou. Hell, even their kinfolk killed each other in the infighting. And soon... the War of Rage happened as well. Aftershocks drove the cruel colonizers into a frenzy, and they killed almost every single native Garou and every other shape-shifting species in Colorado. But because of that death and destruction, those who were native... they were resurrected with a vengeance." I watched in horror as the piles of corpses emerged into masses of flesh and misshapen Garou corpses with sickly black masses oozing on their screaming heads. "That only left a select few genuine Garou and colonizers. The genuine were inducted back into the horrid masses of the colonizers once more. A good majority had their kind natures stamped out, and some hid it... They didn't have a choice—it was concede or be killed. But what goes around always must come back. And so the false Crescent Moon Lodge was slaughtered, and more evil corrupted Garou arose from the ranks of corpses. They sided with bad humans and built cities into massive polluting spires of death and corruption. No one could dare stand against them. Casimir and his generation did the only thing they could do... they ran. They ran and brought back this pack in hopes to combat the Zillah Saskia. But as you know... we're failing," he said with a frown. I watched as the golden lines withered and became blackened, showing more and more monsters rising from corpse piles. Finally, I shook my head, and the vision was gone. "So... we failed because history happened, and now we're the ones who have to live with it?" I said, annoyed. "Yes and no. Yes, we're living with it, but also no, because a good majority of Garou who remain hidden refuse to take any action. I mean, unfortunately, even this pack has become a bystander in the path of the Apocalypse," Everett said with a pained shrug. "So we have to do something about it?!" I shout as I look at Everett. "That we do." I heard a deep grumbling voice from behind me. [[Casimir]]

Casimir approached us from behind, leaving Everett a bit shocked as he looked at the older wolf. "I wholeheartedly agree, child. What has happened is unfair and unjust. And you're right, we do need to do something. But I refuse to let this pack go into a losing war unprepared... And that's why I've decided you will undergo your Rite of Passage," he said with a smirk. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, chief. He's only been here a day. You can't seriously expect him to undergo his Rite of Passage without any formal training, can you?" Everett protested, confused. "Exactly right... So I'm taking a different approach. No time like the present, after all," Casimir said with a shrug. "What do you mean?" I asked as I stepped forward and looked towards the older wolf, ready to hear him out. "... Clearly your motives lie with the child. I respect that. And I'll make you a deal: I'll give you the means to assure Gavin a home with us forever. If you succeed in your Rite of Passage, there's no need to join us yourself. Just complete the passage, and that'll be enough," Casimir spoke from his chest. "So what's the trial? I mean, surely it's gotta be something impossible, knowing Garou so far..." I said with an annoyed growl. "Simple. You're going to go out and recruit the only three Garou I know of and bring them here," he said with a playful smirk. "You at the very least bring back one of these three Garou, and I will personally see to it that Gavin is trained and completely protected so long as he is here." I growled, frustrated. "So what, you want me to recruit people to your cause? To give you a fighting chance?" "Exactly. What you said is correct. And I intend to attempt something to change the tides of Green Mill and Lake View, but I need more people to get it done," he said, staring back at me. "...What would you do if I brought back all three?" I asked. "I'll allow you to stay with Gavin here for the rest of your life, no strings attached," he said, to my shock. "You wouldn't need to fight with or for us, but you could stay here for the child's sake," he said with a firm nod. "... I do that... and nothing else, right?" I asked, with Casimir nodding in response. "Then I think it's time I get to work." [[New gear]]

It was hard being homeless for a while, I wasn't used to the culture of Colorado when I first moved here. The numerous homeless people walking the streets of lower denver 24/7 or the phent addicts running the lightrail like it was there second home. I made my first home in a homeless camp a mile from the capital building in an old abandonded warehouse run down with rust and decay. I slept outside in the frigged cold every night by myself. [img[https://i.pinimg.com/736x/cf/07/7a/cf077aa0812c44d6629c5c9f9204701f--alternative-roots.jpg]] The cold was merciless. During snowstorms, I holed up in a flimsy tent I’d stolen from a military surplus store, shivering through the nights. The streets were dangerous, especially with drug addicts stumbling around like zombies, their desperation palpable. I didn’t pay them much attention, though. Locked away in my tent, I avoided people as much as I could. When someone got too close or tried to hassle me for money, the gun I carried was enough to send them on their way. I was a hermit, and that’s how I wanted it to stay. Occasionally, someone would take pity on me—a kind stranger offering food or spare change. I never accepted food. I didn’t deserve kindness or handouts. After All what kind of River needed handouts when it was a body of water? Instead, I pawned off anything I was given, trading it for booze or whatever useless junk I thought I needed to pawn off. It was a miserable existence, but it was mine, and that was enough. I was a face in the crowd but it didn't take long for my fate to come rearing its ugly head, People saw me as to young and a liabilty so I was run out form the camp and left on my own once more. It stun even being rejected by the lowest people, my own people but it was something I was all to used to now. I spent weeks moving along the Light rail lines attempting to locate anywhere similar to the warehouse but my luck was horrid. I couldn't find anywhere, the cops sniffed me out and booted me once more, I was sent to the next line. [[New camp]]

I finally settled down in Green mill after two full months of searching. I had run into so many people that terrified me—drug addicts lying comatose on the side of the road with medical waste sticking out around them like briars on a rose, criminals holding old apartment buildings down like a castle. Where was I supposed to go? Where was the homeless child with no parents to his identity and a past of broken glass supposed to hide? So it was in that loneliness I made my peace. I found a hole and curled up in it, an underpass in lower Green mill closer to the old town district. I set up my tent near a man-made river close to a hobbled-up grouping of homeless people. I was older now, in my teens, so I went from being a child who people took pity on to being another disgusting face to be scared of. The people I was once so afraid of I was no different from anymore. It was easier this way—I didn't have to care about anyone. Even the homeless group I attached to didn't care. The old veterans stuck on the streets, injecting themselves with whatever they could swipe, scoffed at me in disgust. And I didn't call the police when I found them lifeless in the snow the next morning. I walked away. I stayed away from them as they did to me. I stayed away from the young pregnant woman on the side of the road holding up a cardboard sign begging for money. I didn't react when she was found dead a week later with bruises and blood stains on her clothes. Why should I care? My mother was gone, and she had no relationship with me. I was no different than the people on the sidewalk, striding past us, attempting to ignore the pit of guilt in their stomachs for not doing something. But I was no different. I glared them down and held them away from me, not wanting to get close to them. I refused to bite the hand that fed me, but I never acknowledged the hand either. I didn't want or need help. I put myself here. I chose to leave my home behind of my own will. I chose to abandon my father and wallow in a pit of my own despair because I felt guilty. I became so used to hiding it was like second nature to me—to be a hidden face in the shadows who stared up at the sun with anger and hatred. I scorned the people who had families. I scared kids who thought me an animal on the sidewalk. I glared and threatened when someone got too close. I held my gun like it was a trophy of death at my hip, wanting these people to know I could care less about them. I scoffed as I looked at the mothers from foreign countries holding cribs with infant children in them. Was it any fairer to me if those kids got to have families? Who knew? I didn't, and I didn't want to care in the first place. When one asked me for money, I growled and barked like a rabid dog until she was running from me in fear. I wanted to be left alone, and in the end, I'd do what I could to make sure I stayed that way. [[Homeless]]

The streets of Green Mill became fairly predictable after a while. I could know where each one ended and a new one began, which alleys led to whatever destination the fastest. It was so easy for me to skirt around the town like it was the back of my hand, as if the knowledge had ingrained itself into the very fabric of my own soul over time. Each passing day, a new wrinkle in my brain contained a wealth of knowledge on the town and its homeless population. [img[https://wp-denverite.s3.amazonaws.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/4/2020/11/201124-HOMELESSNESS-ENCAMPMENT-FIVE-POINTS-RINO-ARKINS-COURT-TENTS-COWX-WEATHER-WINTER-KEVINJBEATY-06.jpg]] Old Lady Mary and her meth addiction, overdosing nearly every other week on so much of the angelic substance being ingested into her body. Then collapsing on the side of the street as she was eventually hauled off in the closest ambulance to be taken back down to the local clinic in hopes of restoring her heartbeat back to a somewhat normal state. I had seen her passed out a few times in her tent, foaming at the mouth, though I never quite cared enough to call the police. Even once, I contemplated closing the zipper of her sleeping bag over her head, letting the overdose take its course and put the old hag out of her misery. Though I never got the courage to do so, I couldn't take another life, even if it was a mercy to them. I lamented the kids on the side of the highway holding up their cardboard signs with whatever gospel words were written on the ruined board, being handed handfuls of old dollar bills or even whole bags of food. But I guess I was being a hypocrite for all of that. It’s what I get for pawning off every single object I got that wasn't essential to my survival. Why should I be comfortable out here? It’s a punishment nonetheless. My lament for the innocence of others was only a whip I should take to my flesh, not anyone else, as is the pain that I am meant to be crucified for. A punishment fitting matricide, indirectly or not, it would always be my fault for watching the black ash crust off my mother’s charred corpse in the morgue and not even crying for her. The once soft white skin that cradled me in her arms as she told me tales of legendary heroes saving princesses from castles. I was the dragon. I was the flames that licked and consumed her flesh. I didn't deserve her, and I only deserve punishment for my actions. Even repentance and splaying my flesh out on the side of the road would never be enough. [[Feast of Isolation]]

I think I remember the only day where I had bothered to break my facade. I had wandered over to a local church only to see it filled with cars and banners strung up referring to a free prayer and potluck event for that day, celebrating what they called "The Feast for The Mother." Funny enough, it was the day before Mother’s Day, so I begrudgingly hauled myself into the church and looked in through the door. I could hear the choir singing a few rooms away with a pastor shouting words of gospel as they sang. [img[https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5ee1fb2cdc04f138730fb371/1592407047401-FVQSV6XD6RQ8A44N5AC4/What+to+Expect+(2).jpg]] "If this is what people have to do to have an excuse to be good people..." I muttered to myself as I walked into the sermon. I took a seat as far in the back as I could, looking onto the standing crowd of people singing their hearts out in an angelic chorus and luminous harmony of voices. It reminded me of the nights I'd duet with my mom in my bedroom if I still had the energy, only to fall asleep in her arms minutes later in exhaustion. "....If this is what makes them happy... Who am I to judge..." I said as I leaned against the curved wooden pew in front of me. "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for attending today’s sermon. And welcome to all the new faces who arrived in celebration of the life lost weeks ago." My ears perked up as the minister mentioned the death. "The loss of a mother is always painful for the children and spouse, but we are not here to bask in sorrow but to celebrate the legacy of a mother’s love!" The priest cheered as the crowd whistled and clapped. "Saint Mary was once touted to be the one who carried the deepest sorrow at the loss of her son, the child of the Merciful One. To care for the child of God was to love God himself. And to witness his crucifixion was to bear witness to an agony so deep it could've broken her. Yet she still held onto the love for her son and became who she is known as today—a mother and matriarch who inspires our mothers today." The priest spoke aloud. "I hope that the mothers we have lost today were carried up to the heavens on Lady Marie's blessing herself. For it is those who give their lives to raise their children that are truly worthy of praise, as it is their wills that guide kids down the holiest path shown by God’s golden light." I had to grit my teeth just to feel the sensation of numbness stinging itself up my back as I stood up. I could feel my skin prickle and crawl as I felt the warm tear slick down my face. I was shedding a tear for a mother I killed—a twisted agony I should live through every day for. I left the church promptly and returned to the streets as fast as I could, back into the stinging cold and faint clouds. [[Cloudless nights]]

The nights I spent in my tent with the door open were somewhat nice, attempting to dredge up the kind memories of my mother—her eyes glowing with the serene love she held for me on the nights I cried from nightmares. I couldn't imagine what it would've been like to not have that. To have the love of someone who created you twisted against you and abused into you like a knife. Anything like that made me sick to my stomach for the victims of that kind of abuse. I considered myself lucky that my mother was so kind. "Mom... wherever you ended up because of me... I'm so—" I had to bite my tongue, tasting the hot metallic tang of blood in my mouth. It was the pain that kept me from mourning her. If I mourned her, I'd come to accept her death, and I couldn't be allowed to move on. I spat the blood from my mouth onto the cold gravel beneath my tent as I stared out at the starry sky above. Glittering with a lustrous attraction that allured my eyes every night. My mind wandered, wondering if maybe one of those stars that shined was my mom. A glittering reminder of the once pleasant life I once held—the days with my mother walking around the malls, even as she complained of the smell of chemicals. The long walks in the local park as she pointed out each and every different species of bird that flew past us. She tied herself to nature. It only made sense that’s where she would return to in the end. Whether she was a glittering star shining as bright as Polaris, or a molecule of a memory buried in the ground, it didn't matter all too much. I needed to pay the price for taking her life, and it was her memories that kept me down that path. The path that, maybe the day I surrender to the endless abyss, I can crack the faintest smile, knowing that hopefully, I avenged my mother. Maybe one day my life would mean something in honor of her. In honor of the one who truly created me and raised me to want to be better. Now, the only reason I cling to the dying sparks of life—a husk of my former beaming, happy self. I could only hope that if my mother was watching me, she understood why I subjected myself to what I do now. [[Modern Day]]

I followed after Casimir, with Everett trailing behind us, keeping watch at the rear. "So, if I bring these three Garou to our side, I get to stay with Gavin permanently and keep him safe—no strings attached," I said, wanting to confirm the deal once more. "Yes, yes, it's pointless to keep repeating it," Casimir replied, waving his hand dismissively, clearly annoyed. "Since you've agreed, I need to introduce you to something important about being Garou." He led us to a rust-covered shed, its surface coated in dust. Reaching out, he grabbed the door handle and pulled. With a sharp creak, the door yielded, revealing the supplies within. "Since you're not one of us currently, I'm only giving you the bare essentials—nothing more. Don't get a big head about it. I just want this to go smoothly," he muttered while rummaging through the shed. "Chief, River is an ally. Shouldn't we at least give them a fair shot?" Everett asked as he watched the elder dig through the supplies. "I'm giving the pup gear in general. They should be grateful I'm humoring them at all," Casimir retorted gruffly. I grimaced at his snarky tone, as if I wasn’t standing right there. At last, Casimir pulled out what he was looking for—an old messenger bag. He dusted it off and tossed it over to me. Inside, I found an old radio and a peculiar-looking map, traced with light blue lines leading to different points. "Oh, you're giving them access to the network?" Everett asked, peering over my shoulder with interest. "I'm not lending them one of the two vehicles we have left. It's easier to reestablish the network than to let them drive for hours on end," Casimir grumbled before turning to me. "This map is linked to the network of Moon Bridges we set up years ago. You'll use it to get around on foot for now. To travel through the network, just approach the lake with the map in hand and state your destination. The Umbra will handle the rest." "So, is this map a fetish?" I asked, examining it closely. "Technically, yes," Everett chimed in, scratching the back of his head. "But it's less of a fetish and more of an item linked directly to the caern itself." [[Who to find]]

I made my way quickly to the lake, Casimir walking beside me while Everett had already headed back to his house. We stood at the water’s edge, watching as it flowed over the cliffside and cascaded into the hidden caern below. "Alright, the three wolves you're after are all vastly different from each other," Casimir began, pulling out the notebook I had used to get here. "Carrie gave you the rundown on how this works, so I went ahead and filled in the details for you." He flipped through the pages, stopping at each relevant section. "I’ll go in order of age, just to keep things simple. First up is the Ahroun I heard about through an old contact on the native reservation in Old Greenmill. Rumor has it, the guy was a beast in battle, but my source says he's now a crippled version of his former self. Be careful—Ahroun are always dangerous. They're Gaia’s fiercest warriors, and even at his weakest, he’ll be a threat to you. If you want to go after him first, head to the reservation." "Second is a Theurge from one of the founding bloodlines of the Crescent Moon Lodge. They’re descended from one of the original Garou families from the Colorado Gold Rush. Supposedly, they serve as a caretaker for senior Garou now—an honorable aspiration, I suppose. They’re hiding in plain sight, back in downtown Lakeview. Smart choice on their part, but also risky. Warriors like this tend to have fierce loyalty to old traditions, so tread carefully when approaching them." He pointed to the relevant section in the notebook. "Finally, there’s the Philodox I’ve heard about—a young woman raised by a nomadic Garou group that settled on the outer edge of Greenmill. She’s the closest to us in terms of location, but she’s built a life for herself in the human world. According to my contacts, she’s often seen around the public strip mall in Greenmill. If you're familiar with the area, that’s your best place to start looking. She might be tricky to find if she’s fully integrated with humans, but you can’t afford to give up." Casimir shut the notebook and handed it back to me. "That’s all the intel I have. It’s up to you where you want to start." [[Next steps]]

I lifted the map, my eyes scanning the three major locations marked as I tried to decide where to go first. Suddenly, voices emerged from behind me. "River?!" I heard Gavin howl before he bolted toward me, latching onto my leg. "You were just gonna leave without saying goodbye?!" he whined, looking up at me with puppy-dog eyes. "I wasn’t leaving for good, Gavin. I was gonna be back by tonight," I reassured him, kneeling down. "I’ll be home in plenty of time to see you before you fall asleep, okay?" I wrapped him in a hug. "Still, it’s not fair for you to just leave out of the blue without telling us," he pouted as Carrie chuckled behind him. "It’s alright, Gav. $pro2 will be back tonight. You’re being paranoid," she said, though I could hear the clear lie in her voice. She was trying to downplay the risks, and I understood why—even though I planned to return, there was always a chance something could go wrong. "That said, River, you shouldn’t leave unprepared." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a black metallic object. When she passed it to me, I flipped it open to reveal a butterfly knife inside. "Just be careful," she warned. "These are technically illegal in public spaces, but it wouldn’t be fair to send you out there completely unarmed." That’s when I felt Gavin tug on my pants. Looking down, I saw him holding the grappling hook I had left in the house, cradling it carefully in his hands. "You shouldn’t leave this behind either," he said, offering it to me. "You left it in your room. It feels important, so you should take it with you." His pleading expression left no room for argument. I took the hook from his palms and secured it around my hips. "Thanks, Gavin," I said, ruffling his hair in reassurance. "Remember, bud—I’ll see you tonight, okay?" He nodded before finally releasing my pant leg and stepping back. Carrie told him to head back to her house and set up a board game for them to play, sending him running off before she turned back to me. "You know who you’re going after first?" she asked. [[The resevior Ahroun]] [[The Downtown Theurge]] [[The Greenmill Philodox]]

"I'm going after the Ahroun... it's my next best bet if I'm gonna manage any of this," I said to myself, shaking my head, a bit concerned about what exactly I was doing. "Oh, well, if you're going to Ahroun, he's not hard to find, actually. Most Garou know of him since he was a vet like Victor was back in the day. When you do start looking for him, the best bet would be to hit up the Veteran's Association of Green Mill, a few minutes out from the reservoir itself. Or, if you want to take a more local approach, you can always poke around local hotspots and see if you stand to learn anything from them," Carrie said as she looked at my map once more. "Can't say I'm familiar with Indigenous people and the reservoirs. I know their conditions are horrible, but I'll need to see for myself when I get there," I said as Carrie handed me back the map. "Those people are actually nice if you're respectful. Try not to say something stupid and ruin this for yourself by pure accident," she said with a teasing snicker. "...Thanks, no pressure now, I guess," I said with a disappointed shrug. "Relax, River, they're still people. You're being overly paranoid about talking to someone. It's like going to any other place—just don't act dumb and be kind," she clarified. "Though, if the rumors about this Ahroun guy are true... I'd be paranoid around someone like him. They tend to have a bite-first, talk-second mentality. So just watch your back on this Garou. I don't wanna have to explain to Gavin why you're on bedrest for a broken limb or some sort." "...Your jokes aren't helping the mood," I said, stone-faced. Carrie only grabbed me by my shoulders and shoved me into the water. [[Snowy dessert]]

"I'm going after the Theurge in downtown Lakeview. If I'm lucky, I might be able to track him down relatively easily. But knowing my luck, I doubt I’ll get much of a lead anytime soon," I said, wincing as a dull ache flared in my shoulder. "Oh, Casimir told me about that lead a few days ago… The family you’re looking for is the Concords—at least, that’s what Casimir said. They’re supposedly the best bet for finding any remaining Garou in Lakeview," Carrie said with a shrug. "And if Casimir wasn’t being an ass, he should have… Yep, right here." She murmured as she flipped through the book before stopping on a page. "It’s a list of contacts who might know something—people who owe Casimir a favor. Just tell them the ‘Moonless Butcher’ is calling in his dues, and they’ll help you out." "If you're heading to downtown Lakeview, you should meet up with our contact, Samuel. The guy knows everything about Garou history and might be able to point you in the right direction. He works at Almer’s Bistro and Bar—drop Casimir’s nickname, and you’ll get in touch with Samuel directly." She patted my shoulder before stepping back. "Oh, and in case Casimir didn’t mention—if you need to return to the Caern, just walk into a body of water with the map out." She gave me a reassuring smile before turning away. "Good luck, River." I swallowed my nerves and turned toward the water, glancing at the map spread out in my hands. Taking a steadying breath, I stepped into the lake and looked around. "Ahem… Uh… Downtown Lakeview Memorial Park?" I said aloud. The water beneath my feet surged suddenly, pulling back before shooting up around me. I barely had time to shield my face before I was engulfed. The ground vanished from beneath me, and I felt myself spiraling through a dark tunnel. Then, in an instant, I was back—surrounded by floating purple islands and the dreamlike structures of the Umbra. "So, you have returned so soon, young one," a familiar voice echoed behind me. I turned slightly as the spirit spoke again. "I am glad to see you already working toward your goals. To ensure you are not killed, I shall accompany you on this excursion." I felt something skitter up my back and loop itself in tandem with the grappling hook at my hip. "I will remain in disguise as your hook, but I will be with you. I only ask that you take care not to damage it—for to do so would harm me," it continued to ramble. I half-listened, tuning out its voice as my focus shifted back to the task ahead. [[The park]]

"I suppose I should go for the easiest one, the Greenmill lady," I said with a shrug as I looked over to Carrie. "Oh, well, if you're going after that one, it's still gonna be hard to find her in general if you don't know who you're looking for. But if you get lucky, you'll catch up on a scent or spirit trail. It just kinda depends on your luck more than anything," Carrie said with a slight wince to her shoulders. "I can only hope, I guess," I said in response. "Just don't go out there and get yourself killed from some stupid mistake," Carrie said as she punched me on the shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Besides, I'm just looking for someone, what's the worst that can happen?" I said playfully as I turned to the water and stepped into it, the water rippling out around my feet as I moved forward. "River, I know this is new to you, but you're still only a few weeks into this. You really don't understand how bad things are in Greenmill. No matter what happens, you can't reveal that you're Garou unless you want to risk your life," she said with worry in her voice. I stopped and turned to face her. "Carrie... I wish I could tell you I won't, but I can't promise it. Honestly, things are a bit more complicated when it comes to my life. Yes, I'll do my best to keep my head on my shoulders, but sometimes I just let go. And I'll get injured if I have to, so I can't promise complete safety. I can at the very least say I'll try," I said with a pained shrug as we met our gaze. I could see the worry in her eyes as I waved to her. Finally, I spoke the name out loud, and with that before she could counter me I was sucked up by the water. [[Pond time]]

The floating islands twisted and turned as I dove headfirst through another water hole, suddenly plunging into cool, rushing water. Light refracted around me, shimmering across my skin as I emerged on the other side of the moon bridge, standing knee-deep in the shallows of a hidden pond. "This is it?" I muttered to myself, scanning my surroundings. "It appears so," the spirit’s voice echoed in the back of my mind. "I wasn't expecting a moon bridge to be constructed in such an exposed location. Though… I can sense a faint spirit nearby, so I suppose it serves the Garou’s needs." I waded out of the water, shaking off the moisture clinging to my shoes as I took in the faintly illuminated park. "I assume we need to find the contact I was told about?" "How do you even know that? It’s like you’re watching me 24/7. Creepy as hell," I said aloud. "I wouldn't bother speaking out loud," the spirit mused, amusement lacing its tone. "I can hear your thoughts perfectly fine. And no, I’m not always watching, but I pick up on the important details when necessary." "Still creepy," I thought, rolling my eyes as I made my way up the sidewalk, my gaze flicking between the wilted trees and the evergreens dusted with patches of snow. "For someone trying to play the mysterious guide trope, you’re doing a lousy job. You haven’t even told me what to call you." "You may call me Thymos," it said, pride swelling in its voice. "A name bestowed upon me by ancestors millennia ago. I find it quite fitting." I reached a fork in the path and continued toward the park’s entrance, where a parking lot stretched beside the main road. "To think the land has changed so much from when I once roamed its lush forests in the darkness of the night," Thymos murmured. "Yeah, that’s what happens when time passes. Things evolve, people expand, and the world keeps moving forward," I replied, glancing around as I walked. "You don’t seriously expect everything to stay the same forever, do you? Judging by the way you talk, you must be hundreds of years old." "Correct," Thymos admitted. "Believe it or not, I existed when Gaia’s heartbeat still pulsed through the earth, fueling nature’s every breath. An intoxicating sensation I miss far too much." I stepped onto the sidewalk, cutting across the street. "Where should I go?" [[Explore around]] [[The Street]]

I shrugged, knowing I had to make my way to Almer’s Bistro and Bar but unsure of which direction to take. Instead of stressing over it, I figured I might as well take the opportunity to explore. The area around me was more suburban, lined with apartment complexes and quiet streets. A couple walked their dog nearby, and a man strode past, deep in conversation over the phone. The brisk midday breeze rolled past my shoulders, tousling my bangs as I continued down the sidewalk. The street was lined with firs and evergreens, their fresh scent making the air easier to breathe—vastly different from the smog-choked congestion of the main city. The sun hung faintly in the sky, casting soft, warming rays against my skin. Spotting a bench, I walked over and sat down, the stiff wood pressing into my back as I leaned into it. I let my head fall back, closing my eyes with a deep sigh. For the first time in what felt like forever, I had a moment of peace—a rare reprieve from the high-octane chaos my life had become. For now, at least, I could simply exist. [[Speak to Thymos]] [[The Street]]

slipping out from the area I had been moving within, I walked out onto the street and looked down it. Road signs coated the seats as I saw a man curl down a side street, following the pathing of what seemed to lead to a wider area. I strode down the street as I was met with a small complex. A café and a few mom-and-pop stores lined the streets. A good few people walked around as I looked it over. A nice-looking bakery wafted the smell of blueberry muffins and fresh coffee, hooking my nose almost instantly. An addictively sweet smell came from just outside the door as I looked out to see a platter with free samples on it. I had to bite my tongue to resist the urge to walk over and snag my jaws around one of the samples. [[The Cafe]] I spotted what seemed to be a psychic shop on the farthest end of the street, with purple silk curtains glittering with fake sparkling crystals in the windowsill. My eyes locked onto the trail of smoke floating from a window on the side. Incense stained the air. I could feel the sweat prickling down the back of my neck as I imagined the sheer heat of the rooms. [[Psychic]]

"Hey, Thymos?" I murmured. "Yes, cub?" The spirit responded instantly, its voice carrying an almost expectant edge. "Now that I've had a chance to sit and think, there's something I'm curious about," I said, speaking into the open air. "Ask away. I will answer as best I can," Thymos replied as I exhaled, sinking further into my thoughts. "What was Gaia like? I mean, everyone talks about her as if she was the greatest being to ever exist, but to me, she just sounds like a distant memory—one that’s fading." I hesitated before continuing. "Don’t get me wrong, from what I’ve learned, she seemed like this powerful, all-encompassing force. But if that’s the case, wouldn’t she have been… I don’t know, terrifying? Demanding? Spirits seem to be a mixed bag from what I’ve seen, so I can’t help but wonder." For a moment, Thymos was silent, but I felt something—like a twitch, a ripple in the air around me. "Gaia..." The spirit finally spoke, its voice softer now, laced with something ancient and raw. "My mother. The Earth's mother. She was never an active force in the way many might expect. She did not rule or command because she created the Triad—the Wyld, the Wyrm, and the Weaver—to tend to the world in her stead. She trusted them to maintain balance." A pause. "But, as you know, that balance was never meant to last." I listened in silence, feeling the weight of each word. "In her prime, she was… magnificent," Thymos continued, its voice carrying the warmth of nostalgia and the sting of loss. "When she spoke, her words were the breeze rustling through the trees. When she showed affection, it was in the warmth of the sun or the cool embrace of the night sky. She loved nature, nurtured the flowers as they blossomed, watched over the birds as they sang, and gifted them the branches they perched upon to build their nests." Another pause. This time, I could almost feel the sorrow seeping through the spirit’s words. "But as time passed, she grew weaker. Wounded. And so, she withdrew. Where once the sun cast gentle rays upon the land, now thick, choking clouds blot out the sky. Where once lush forests thrived, now only concrete and poison remain, snuffing out roots before they can take hold. Still, she never lashed out. Never begged for mercy. Even as she created the Garou and the Fera to protect her, she remained silent when her end finally came." Thymos let out a deep, slow exhale. "She simply… faded. Quietly. As if she had never been there at all." A heavy stillness settled between us before the spirit spoke again, its voice barely more than a whisper. "And with her death, the spirits began to fall. Those who did not succumb to corruption were left broken shadows of what we once were. Because we were her children, and now… We are alone now." His voice cracked abit as he spoke. "....I'm so sorry Thymos, I never would've known." I thought to him. "It's alright child, its good that you asked. It's important to me that you know these things and that you strive to be better then those around you." He said with some hope blossoming his tone. "Thanks for humoring me Thymos." I say as I stand up from the bench and sighed relieved now. "Time to get moving again." <<set $thymos += 1>> [[The Street]]

I felt the pit in my stomach growl at me angrily as I swallowed the hunger and trudged over to the café. I snatched up one of the samples and munched it down. I was met with a sour citrus followed up by a quick rush of sweetness from the crystal sugar. [img[https://www.thegosportglobe.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/winter-587509_1920.jpg]] "Damnit... So good," I groaned as I swallowed it down and pushed open the door. Instantly, my nose was assaulted with a combination of sweet breads and bitter coffee as a hiss of steam obscured my vision. "Son of a—?!" I was suddenly caught by the wrist and tugged in. "Careful there, stranger. Most new people get blasted by the pressure brewer, so don’t be too embarrassed," a cheerful young waitress beamed at me as she slipped past me and under the steam as it receded. I walked a bit further in, and my eyes traced the outline of the counter, where an older woman was working the till by herself. A young man wearing headphones stood behind her, pouring out a few cups on his own. The mahogany wooden counter was lined with old polaroid photos, and behind the counter was a chalkboard with a menu written in bright blue with prices on the side. I glazed over the menu, settling on possibly getting a coffee for the sake of trying something, as it was a rare excuse I got to have actually good coffee. Walking over, I placed an order for a vanilla red eye with a splash of milk to take the edge off. Plopping my butt down, I pulled out my phone from my messenger bag and opened it up. "Normally, Gavin is better with this sorta stuff than I am, but maybe I can try it on my own," I hummed to myself as I opened up an internet browser. "She said to look for Almer's Bistro and Bar... So I guess I should start there," I said as I pulled up the location on my phone. It was a 30-minute walk from where I was. Not too bad—I just had to hope the guy I was looking for would be on staff when I got there. Finally, I looked up when the waitress brought over my coffee, and I sniffed it. A bit of the bitter roasted coffee slipped into my lungs as I inhaled the artificial vanilla smell. I took a quick drink and felt my throat close up from the sheer flavor intensity, but after a second, the bitter espresso edged off with the help of the milk. [[People watching]] [[The Street]]

I shrugged my shoulders dieciding it might be worth a shot to explore the town a bit and see if theres anything useful. what else could be more useful then a tool shop, its in the name "Tool" after all. I figured as I walked down the street and tugged open the door. the inside was lit up with led's and had a couple rows of different tools all sprawled out a few select customers where browsing over. "Howdy stranger~" A round old man waved from behind the counter. "Anything your in need of today, we have new services on offer like key replication and blade sharpening!" He spoke jovially. "Oh... uh no not really, just kinda exploring." I said in response as I scratched the back of my neck. "No problem then bud, if you need it bathrooms are in the back and I'm right here if you have any questions." He said with a smile as he rolled back on his chair and turned to a work bench where a drill laid with some wood scraps. I walked past the old man and down the isles hoping maybe I could find something of general use for me but I couldn't find much. What I was hoping for was very to different to what I should've expected. it turned out to be more of a general surplus store then anything else, I found some old powertools held in dusty plastic cases unopened and some miscellanous objects strewn across the shelves. "Not much to this is there...." I muttered to myself as I looked over the final shelf. "Hey kiddo, sorry to be a nag but what's that you got strewned over your hip there?" I heard the old man ask. "Oh.... its embarassing to admit but its a grappling hook..." I muttered slightly embarrased as I walked out form the edge I was looking over. "Now why on gods green earth would you be walking around with a grappling hook around your waist? I mean if it was just rope it could pass for a belt but with the hook. it's just down right baffling." He said with some bluster to his voice. "Good luck charm... I guess, I dunno I just have used it for... Rock climbing and I carry it around as a good luck charm." I had to lie really quick. "Well... anyways the hook is chipped on the end." He pointed to which I quickly pulled it up and as he said a piece of the hook was indeed chipped with a small portion of the metal missing. "Overall that hook looks like it was a rush job...... maybe you should get a new hook for it all toghether." I looked at him confused. "Lucky for you, we do sell wench hooks and pulley hooks. Maybe theres something in there that can replace it." He said as he stood up and waved for me to follow him. In the isle closer to the back of the store he pointed to a bottom shelf, where like he said a couple different hooks remained. "If it's rock climbing you do... Then this'll be your best bet." He picked up a wierd looking tripple sided hook with bent ends on it. "Here it's a triple solder treble hook, flatter on the top but extremely curved on the edges for friction." He said pushing it into my hands as I looked over the item. "And sense we rarely get climbers in here.... I'll bring the price down by half if you want." The man said. So begrudingly back up at the counter I payed for the hook and with the old man's help the hook was attached. it had a great deal more heft to it this time. "Have a good day stranger!~" The old man waved to me as I left the store. "That was odd.... I was just pseudo convinced and forced to buy something at the exact same time...." I muttered confused on the side of the store. <<Set $newhook = True>> [[Albino Rhino]] [[Gas Station]]

I felt the air rush past me as I pushed open the door, the smell of incense burning my nostrils as I took in the sight ahead. My eyes hooked onto the candles burning just below a sunroof, their smoke gently wafting out. A counter lined with shining crystals stood in the dim room around me. The sheer number of different scents was dizzying—sage mixed with the lingering burn of years-old beeswax. I had to steady myself against the wall just to keep conscious enough to walk further in. [img[https://dynamic-media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-o/25/a4/fb/4e/cozy-corner-in-our-main.jpg?w=1200&h=1200&s=1]] “…It’s been a while since I’ve sensed a wolf enter this sacred place.” A voice crooned from behind me, and I spun around, my eyes locking onto a figure buried beneath a hood and veil. “Though I take no offense, wolf, please… come in further. I sense the tension in your soul and spirit, bound so tightly to your flesh.” The figure murmured, their voice slipping through the air like silk. "Be careful, River… this isn’t a normal psychic—it’s a mage," Thymos cautiously warned me. “I’m flattered by the caution, but please, don’t be alarmed. I am no more a threat than the air you continue to breathe.” The figure smiled, and my gaze traced their mouth. Their grin was almost sadistic, their teeth like the thorns of a rose—beautiful to look at but dangerous to touch. “Fear not, young wolf. My paradigm only permits me curiosity about the passing world. My view of existence is much like yours—I see it for what it truly is. And yet, we are still different. Where you see death and destruction, my blind eyes perceive waves—ever-shifting landscapes sculpted and reshaped at the whim of mankind. Yet… within you, I sense a flame. A flame of passion and destruction, two forces that walk hand in hand. To possess such a complex nature is rare, even among the supernatural like you and me.” Their wispy voice drifted as they reached beneath the table, slowly pulling out a velvet pouch. With deliberate care, they retrieved a deck of aged tarot cards, the edges frayed and well-worn. The air around us grew thick, charged with unseen energy as they shuffled the deck with an almost hypnotic rhythm. “I do not give gifts freely, nor do I offer trinkets without purpose. But what I can grant you is insight—an echo of the past, a glimpse of the present, and a whisper of the future.” They placed three cards face down onto the silk-covered table. One by one, they turned them over with deliberate intent. “The first, the Five of Cups.” Their fingers traced the card’s sorrowful imagery—spilled goblets, a figure cloaked in mourning. “Loss, regret… a deep grief that still lingers in your bones. You have suffered wounds that never truly healed, wounds that shaped the person you are today.” Their hand moved to the next card, flipping it to reveal the Two of Pentacles. “And here, the present. A delicate balance, the potential for change. You stand at a crossroads, burdened but adaptable. Your choices now will determine the path ahead.” Finally, they turned over the last card. The Tower. The sight of it made my chest tighten. A spire struck by lightning, figures tumbling from its heights. A symbol of upheaval, of destruction and forced confrontation. “The future is chaos,” they murmured. “A reckoning. Whether it be within yourself or against another, you will face a challenge that will shake your very foundation. The question is… will you break, or will you rebuild?” Their gaze—those sightless, knowing eyes—held me in place for a moment longer before they gathered the cards and tucked them away. Before I could speak, the world around me shifted. I blinked, my breath hitching. I was outside. Standing on the sidewalk, the cold air biting at my skin. Spinning around, my stomach dropped. The shop was gone. Where it once stood was now a boarded-up building, dust-covered and abandoned. "It seems we’ve caught the attention of a very powerful person… I can sense the weight of those words," Thymos’s voice resonated in the back of my mind. "If they weren’t lying, then whatever’s ahead of us… it won’t be easy." [[Continuing on]]

I closed out my phone as I looked back up to watch over the café. A young man sat in the corner of the room, typing away on his laptop with his glasses hanging off the edge of his nose, his headphones humming a gentle lo-fi tune. Then my eyes moved over to the mother and son sitting in a booth. The young boy was babbling on and on about his school's new playground as his mother smiled at him and joked with him over stupid little comments. I felt my eyes well up a bit as I remembered my own mother. The heat of my coffee helped keep the edge off. I could barely remember her face anymore, and even her name was a distant memory to me nowadays. Only the sound of her voice and the touch of her skin were what I could remember. [img[https://thumbs.dreamstime.com/b/woman-walking-city-store-walks-past-shop-window-fashion-clothes-129310470.jpg]] I leaned against my palm as I closed my eyes and thought back to myself. I could remember the soft cushions of our couch, my hands placed on the sides as I bounced up and down on the plush seats. "Mama, hurry up?!" I desperately pleaded as I wiggled around. That’s when she turned the corner and walked toward me, a book in her hands. "Alright, alright, River!~ Stop being a squirmy worm and sit still." She teased as she ruffled my hair, her soft white hand gliding over my head as she tugged the bangs out from my eyes. "You have too much energy today, wiggle butt~" she snickered to herself as she sat down in the space next to me, and I jumbled myself onto her lap. "Hahahah, River, stop it! You’re gonna tear my shirt, you goofball!~" she laughed as she suddenly straightjacketed me with her arms and held me still. I laughed and giggled in her arms as I turned around and looked at the book in her hands. "Wait, no way?! You got the prequel to it? I thought they were sold out of it when we were at the bookstore, Mama!" I said, surprised. "No, River, it's not a sequel to The Butterfly. It's a storybook from when me and your dad were kids. It's called The Golden Castle," she said as she dusted off the cover and opened the withered book to reveal an inked drawing within. "It was my favorite story to read growing up, and now I want to share it with you," she said with a soft smile. "But, Mommmmmm! I wanna read The Butterfly..." I whined as she snickered and patted me on the head. "Tell you what, River—let me read you this one book. If you don't like it, I'll go out and order The Butterfly sequel. Deal?" she said, to which I vigorously nodded. "Alright then. Sit still, and let’s get started," she said as footsteps walked down the hall toward us. "Nadia, hun, you there?" Suddenly, I felt my hand slip off my palm as I was jolted awake by the sensation of falling. I looked around, confused, as I noticed my now-empty coffee cup. I must have drunk it while I was daydreaming. How odd, I thought as I slid the cup off to the side and stood up. I was ready to go now. <<set $memory +=1>> [[The Street]] [[Continuing on]]

Making my way back up the street from the place I had explored, I pulled out my phone once more, bringing up navigation. I opened the map and began weaving through the streets as I walked. Out of habit, I tapped open my texting app, only to be reminded stupidly that I hadn’t given my number to anyone. Not that I expected any of the wolves to have modern phones in the first place. With a sigh, I reached into my bag and pulled out the radio, flicking it on. A wave of static crackled through the speaker. I grabbed the worn dial at the top and twisted it slowly, watching as the small numbers flickered past. Only four channels were active. Of course, no one had told me which one to use. I figured my best bet was to pick a random one and see what happened.I mean, really what’s the worst that could happen? [[Channel 1]] [[Channel 2]] [[Channel 3]] [[Channel 4]]

I flicked over to channel one and pressed the talk button, sending out a quick beep—just to see if anyone was listening. To my surprise, Everett’s voice crackled through the speaker. “Hello? River?” His voice was a little rough, and I could hear the faint sound of running water in the background. “Hey, Everett. Hope I’m not bothering you—I was just messing around with the radio,” I admitted. “It’s alright,” he replied. “I’m guessing Casimir didn’t bother telling you the station setup. I’m on channel one, Carrie’s on two, Casimir’s three—if you can actually get him to answer—and four is pretty much unused.” I nodded to myself, making a mental note. “Got it.” “Did you mean to call me, or were you trying to reach someone else?” he asked. [[No, I want Everett]] [[Channel 2]] [[Channel 3]] [[Channel 4]]

I flicked over to channel one and pressed the talk button, sending out a quick beep—just to see if anyone was listening. A familiar voice crackled through the speaker, laced with amusement. “Hehe, heya, River. Looks like Cas didn’t teach you about the channels~” Carrie teased. I sighed. “Hey, Carrie… Not my fault, to be fair. I’m just working with what I’ve got.” She chuckled. “Fair enough. Anyway, Everett’s on channel one, I’m obviously on two, Casimir’s three if you can actually get him to answer and four is usually dead.” I nodded to myself, making a mental note. “Got it.” “Did you mean to call me, or were you trying to reach someone else? ‘Cause Gavin’s not with me right now,” she added. [[No, I want Carrie]] [[Channel 1]] [[Channel 3]] [[Channel 4]]

I flicked over to channel three and pressed the talk button, sending out a quick beep. A brief silence followed before a sharp, irritated voice cut through the static. “River. What do you want?” Casimir sounded like I had just interrupted something important. “Uh… hey, Casimir. I was just figuring out the channels,” I said, trying to keep my tone neutral. A short exhale—probably a suppressed sigh. “Figures. Everett’s on one, Carrie’s two, I’m three. Channel four’s useless. Got it?” His words were clipped, straight to the point. “Yeah, got it.” “Good. Don’t use this channel unless it’s important.” There was a pause, then a dry, begrudging addition—“Anything else?” [[Try for talking]] [[Channel 1]] [[Channel 3]] [[Channel 4]]

I sent a click through, hoping someone would respond, but after a few seconds, I was still only met with static. Just as I was putting the radio back in my bag, I heard a beep. “H-Hello? Who’s there?” A small voice peeped through the radio, and I instantly recognized who it was by his tone alone. “It’s River. Gavin, it’s me, bud,” I explained. “River! Oh, whew, that’s good. I was wandering around when I heard something go off in an old shed. Lo and behold, I found you! Heheheh,” Gavin cheerily spoke. “What are you doing wandering around by yourself, Gavin?” I asked, concern creeping into my voice. “Hey, I’m just exploring near the houses! It’s not my fault the radio went off… but I guess I did pick it up… but that doesn’t matter!” he protested. “Were you trying to get in contact with someone? ‘Cause I can try and get someone else for you,” he added, a bit of confusion in his tone. [[No, I was hoping for Gavin]] [[Channel 1]] [[Channel 2]] [[Channel 3]]

"I know we’re not the most... connected people, but I was hoping you could enlighten me on some of the Garou’s history?" I muttered, thinking that keeping things professional might make him more willing to talk. "What do you need to know?" he gruffly responded. "Well... I know the Garou showed up here during the Gold Rush, but could you tell me more about the actual history?" I asked. "Fair enough. The Garou don’t remember exactly when they settled in Colorado. It’s obvious some arrived during the early American settlement days. The first properly recorded date we have is spring of 1833—exact month unknown. Green Mill became an established settlement in 1859, a year after the Gold Rush started. So, the Great Moon Lodge could be considered to have formed about a year after that... meaning 1860 is when the lodge was officially established," he explained. "What exactly is the Great Moon Lodge? Everyone mentions it, but no one’s actually told me what it is," I said, confused. "It was the major governing body of the Garou, made up of some of the first settlers and a family of native Garou from the area. Simple as that. They acted as the diplomatic representation for Colorado as a territory. Obviously, they’ve long since fallen apart," he said quickly. "Oh... wait, the guy I’m going after is descended from one of those families?" I realized. "Yes, the Concord family. They came from Ireland early on, about a year or so before the Gold Rush, according to the documents," he confirmed without hesitation. "Right... that actually helps clear some things up. It just means he’s possibly important," I muttered to myself, piecing things together. "Right. Now get back to work." And with that, I heard the click of the channel going dark. Luckily, I had already arrived. [[Almer's]]

"No, I was actually hoping to talk to you, Everett," I said as I walked down the sidewalk, my thoughts briefly drifting. "Huh... okay. What do you need?" he asked expectantly. "I don't need anything. I was just hoping to talk to you. I mean, we barely know each other on a basic level, so I thought this would be a good chance to get to know each other better." "Oh... uh, okay. No one's ever just... well, got it. Is there something specific you want to know about me?" Everett responded, a hint of curiosity in his voice. "Well... I guess, why don’t you start with the basics?" I suggested. "Okay... well, my full name is Everett Houston Aldrich. I was born here in Green Mill with my parents, but they moved out to Florida a couple of years ago since both of them were kinfolk. If Carrie didn’t tell you, I’m a Theurge, and I’ve been with Casimir and this pack since I was a teen." "Wait, your parents moved away? If you're Garou, wouldn't it have made sense to go with them?" I asked. "No, not exactly. It’s not like my parents and I don’t get along, but I was old enough to make my own choices. Over the years, I’ve come to see Casimir as family, and with the way things were—and still are—I couldn’t just up and leave. I was needed here, and my parents were okay with that," he said with confidence. "Once it was down to just Casimir, Carrie, and me, I had to step up as the spiritual medium. No one else had a good rapport or connection with the spirits, so I took on that role." He spoke with a hint of pride. "...You know, for what little I know about spirits and the Umbra, I think you're the first one to really talk about them. If you don't mind me asking... why doesn’t the pack have a totem spirit?" I asked curiously. "Oh... Snow-Eye. Well, we did for a while, but Snow-Eye had so little power left that she had to pass on. She couldn’t stay connected to us without risking permanent death. So, she’s gone... for now. If she ever comes back, it’d be a miracle. She was a spirit contracted by Casimir’s old friends, but with them gone, she didn’t have much excitement or passion left for us," he explained with a hint of frustration. "We still need to find a new totem spirit, but without recruiting new Garou, there isn’t much drawing spirits to us. Maybe this mission will help drum up some support for us," he added, a tinge of hope in his voice. Finally, I arrived at the crossroads leading to what looked like a bar. "Alright... well, I’ll do my best to get you guys some support," I said before clicking off the radio. I took a deep breath. Time to finally get to work. [[Almer's]]

"Nah... I’m not really hoping to talk to anyone. I’m just kinda walking to that Almer bar you mentioned," I muttered into the mic. "Makes sense. Boredom leads to fucking around with things," Carrie said with a slight chuckle. "Anyways, I’m glad you did call—I was actually hoping to talk to you." Her voice carried a tinge of sorrow. "What’s up?" I asked. "I wanted to ask you about Monroe..." she said hesitantly. "Oh... well, I’ll tell you what I can, but you know him a million times better than I ever will," I replied. "I’m not too curious about much... but I was hoping to know—while you were staying with him and Gavin at their house, what was Monroe like? Was he social and outgoing, or was he cold and introverted?" I took a moment to think. "Well, from when I was there... I wouldn’t say he was either. Monroe was calculated and perceptive. He knew what he was doing and what he needed to do to survive," I said, more to myself than to her. "It seemed like he did everything he could to give Gavin a semblance of a normal life. From what I could tell, everything he set up was to keep himself and Gavin safe. He honored Garou culture a lot, too." "Makes sense... He and Victor were both raised in such a traditional household. Both of them were meant to be warriors, but they each walked that path in their own way," she said, her voice laced with pain. "They were total sweethearts—they only wanted the best for each other. They didn’t deserve what happened to them. Victor put his life on the line that day." Her words carried a weight that made my stomach twist. "Carrie... how did Victor die?" I asked carefully. "Monroe never told you? Well, I guess that makes sense, considering how fast everything happened," she sighed. "You know Victor was in the military, right? He served in a Marine division made up of Garou—a special task force meant to help keep things under control overseas. From what we know, Victor was assassinated during a raid on their compound while deployed in Iraq. It was horrible. I barely knew Gavin at the time, but Monroe... he couldn’t hold it together after that." I swallowed hard. "I... I never would’ve guessed. I can only imagine how they fell apart." "The whole family was already hanging by a thread. Their parents were long gone, and with Maria—Gavin’s mom—leaving Victor, the two of them were already on their last shreds of will," she murmured. I exhaled sharply. "And Gavin had to sit there and watch it all happen on his own," I said, my chest tightening at the thought of the pain he must’ve endured. I looked up and saw the bar just ahead. "Oh... I’m here. I think we’ll have to finish this later," I said, but nothing came from the other end. Just silence. [[Almer's]]

"Nah bud, I'm happy I'm talking to you. It's nice to know your okay at the very least." I say to Gavin. "Thanks river.... but.... this all still scares me.... Being here, I mean.... I don't..... I can't process it all.... It feels like I've had to grow up in... I dunno what feels like a gajillion years in an a day!" I could hear him shout mad. "I don't mind Aunt Carrie, She's sweet... But it... She isn't uncle Monroe..." I heard him whisper into the mike. "Gavin, I know the pain all to well. Your so young you can barely process any of this and I don't blame you. but the thing I want you most to remember is that I'm still here, and so long as I am at the very least I am on your side. I might not be Monroe or your dad but I'm doing what I can for you. I just hope that helps." I say to him attempting to offer any comfort. "I know what its like to feel alone. to know the agony of going to sleep every night feeling like the darkness is whispering over your shoulder saying that you'll forever be alone and that no one will ever love you like the one person did. They were what felt like your whole world only to be ripped from them in a matter of seconds. to lose what feels most important to you after losing perosn and person in your life is like stricking a match in a dead fire. Your attempting to kindle ash and smoke when the truth is you need a new log, something new to reignite that flame of life.... I know this probably makes no sense to you but.... I'm trying to give you a chance I wasn't, to have a life with people who can love you and keep you safe." I attempted to qauntify my feelings to him knowing that it was pointless. "I'm not Monroe, Gavin I can only try and live up to the promise I made him in hopes to keep you safe. I don't know how well I'm doing.... But for your sake I am trying." I could hear Gavin rustling on the other end of the line. ".... I miss him everyday River. Not uncle Monroe, sure I miss him but.... My dad. He... He was kind, he cared for me and every letter and box from him was.... amazing. And it's all gone. Every single reminder of him is gone, and I'm afraid I'm going to forget him." I could feel my chest cramp up as I stopped walking and looked down at my radio. ".....You won't Gavin.... Trust me, you won't. I.... I know that all to well, the fear of forgetting someone. But there are things you can do to remember them. Remember the legacy they left behind for you." I say as I run my fingers down the scars on my wrist. "It doesn't need to be hard. It can be the small things, remembering stupid jokes..... or conversations you had. You might forget how they look, or how they sounded.... But what matters is don't forget there impact and legacy. What they left on this world is what I... You need to remember." I muttered as stray tear slid down my burned skin. My once ruined eye now realising water over my numbed skin. "Ok.... I'll try River... I have to go, I don't want aunt Carrie to worry." I heard him get up and whisper a goodbye as the radio went silent. I spent the walk attempting to numb what little sense of emotion was in me the rest of the way. [[Almer's]]

I adjusted my bag over my shoulder, pulling it snug against my hip as I walked down the pebbled road. Chunks of loose pavement skittered beneath my shoes with every step. I swallowed the nerves in my throat as I neared the swinging neon sign ahead. The cold metal handle felt stiff under my grip as I pulled the door open and stepped inside. [img[https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_daxfly__Pk/V0kATrX0PTI/AAAAAAAAGrg/YUap4aUq_64gzz-6VMkq1nTQSOWtzuaXgCKgB/s1600/shakers%2Bmilwaukee%2Bcigar%2Bbar.JPG]] The bar and bistro was dingy, the air thick with the scent of stale liquor and grease. A glass counter lined with sad-looking deli sandwiches sat near the entrance—the bread looking more like a deflated balloon than anything remotely edible. It was pathetic to look at. I walked past the counter and pushed open the low gate leading into the bar area. My footsteps clicked softly against the worn floorboards. The place was nearly empty—just a couple sharing a half-eaten sandwich and chips, and a drunk slumped over a stool in the corner. The scent of beer and something stronger lingered in the air, clinging to the back of my throat. I stopped at the wooden counter and leaned against it, waiting. Behind the bar, a heavy-set brunette worked with a cigarette propped lazily between her lips. She barely spared me a glance before speaking. "Only 21 and up at the bar," she gruffed, turning away. "I'm not here for a drink. I was hoping Samuel was on shift..." I said quickly. She scoffed. "Tough luck. Sammy doesn't work afternoons. Come back later if you wanna spin tales with the psycho." Her tone carried an edge of annoyance. "I can't wait," I replied sternly. She smirked, unimpressed. "Well, hot stuff—tough. Shit. ‘Cause you're going to." Her gaze locked onto mine, unflinching as we stared each other down. "The Moonless Butcher would beg to differ," I growled. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Now, let me say that again. I want to speak to Samuel," I warned. She exhaled sharply, rolling her eyes. "Psh... alright. Just—ugh, give me a second." She turned on her heel and disappeared through a door. I let out a slow breath, trying to steady myself. My gaze drifted to the half-drunk can of Boarman’s sitting beside me. My fingers clenched over my wrist as I fought the familiar urge curling in the back of my throat. My head felt dizzy just thinking about it. The door swung open behind the bar, and the woman returned with a sigh. "He'll be here in five. I'm supposed to offer you a drink. What do you want?" It was just one drink. It wouldn't hurt anyone. Hell, I was already anxious—one drink would take the edge off, keep my mind clear. "Is there a limit?" I asked. She shook her head. My hands trembled slightly beneath the counter. "Can you do an espresso martini?" I asked, half-expecting her to scoff. It felt like a pompous request in a place like this. She snorted. "We don’t got espresso, but I got booze that tastes like coffee. If you don’t mind something that could knock you on your ass." I hesitated, then nodded. "...I'm experienced. Go ahead." My voice wavered slightly. She chuckled and got to work. After a few minutes, she slid a martini glass toward me, a cold foam layer floating on top of a deep brown liquid. The scent was strong—coffee-like but deeper, almost sour. I lifted the glass, taking in the aroma. "You used... Kahlua," I muttered. She nodded. "It’s what we had. If you got complaints, you're welcome to toss the drink and wait sober." Then she turned away, leaving me alone with my decision. [[Take a swig]]

What is a man but a slave to his instincts? How pathetic was it? That I was so chained to my addiction, so powerless before a mere liquid in a glass. The slight burn in my throat as I swigged it down in one swallow. The flavors merged into a sludge in my stomach, a numbing sensation spreading through me. A sedation to my nature. Maybe it was better this way—being so drunk I couldn't think. Just another catatonic zombie, passed out in a back alley. "Stop it!" A sharp burn ignited in my scars as Thymos shouted at me. "Stop wallowing in your self-pity and trauma. For Gaia’s sake, you're doing something important. The least you could do is push through your issues and focus on the greater good!" The spirit’s voice cracked through my mind like a whip. "Believe me, cub, I know the desperation to give in to your darkness. But if I can resist it for hundreds of years, you can manage for a few days!" I felt my hand slip down to the rope slung over my hips, my consciousness fading into the numbing warmth of inebriation. Maybe the Centipede was right. Maybe it didn’t even matter anymore. It was too late for me—I was nothing but a washed-up husk of a child screaming for their mother. "And so is Gavin?!" The spirit’s voice slammed into my head like a hammer. "That child lost his uncle, his mother, and his father before even before turning thirteen. And you think you've had it rough?! That child is counting on you to keep yourself together, and now you're unraveling this easily?! It's pathetic!" The anger in me flared. How dare it claim to understand me? That stupid spirit knew nothing of me, of my past. How could it say Gavin had it worse than I did? Then, the sting of guilt wrenched through my chest. My mother—what she gave herself for. The reason I sprinted back into that house, braved the fire, let myself become Garou in the first place. The rage in my stomach burned, pulsing through my veins like a second heartbeat. The numbness faded, replaced by something sharper. "There you go," Thymos murmured with pride. "That’s the cub I believe in." A sudden tap on my shoulder snapped me back. I turned to see a large, gruff man standing behind me, sunglasses covering his eyes. "This way to meet Mr. Samuel, please." [[Follow after]]

I steeled my nerves, debating whether this was even a good idea. Following a bigger guy in sunglasses through a dingy bar into an alley? That was the perfect setup for a kidnapping—or the start of a horror movie. But for Gavin’s sake, I had to take the risk. [img[https://c1.wallpaperflare.com/preview/833/172/913/graffiti-car-mini-cooper-alley.jpg]] So I followed, paranoia gnawing at me with every step as we exited the bar into the alleyway. My eyes locked onto a Land Rover parked deep in the shadows, an older man lounging in the driver’s seat. He perked up the moment he saw me. "Oh shit, you must be the puppy Casimir told me about. Good to meet’cha, charming. Name's Samuel, but my friends call me Sammy—and so will you." His grin was too peppy for my comfort. "Now, I understand you're calling in a favor on Casimir's end, which is all good and fine. But you should know—my favors come in tiers, and with this, Casimir is fresh outta sway with me. Got it?" "Uh… yeah, right?" I took a small step back. "I just need some info." "Okey dokie." He clapped his hands together. "So what is it you need to know? Or who are you looking for—assuming Casimir wasn’t feeding me bullshit over the phone?" I grunted to myself. Of course, the guy had a phone but still insisted on using an outdated radio. "I’m looking for someone from a family that originated here. The Concord family, specifically. Rumor has it there’s a kid here, supposedly a senior caretaker for a family member. I need to know who they are and where to find them." Samuel leaned back in his seat, nodding slowly. "Concords, huh? They go way back in Colorado history. Surprised Casimir wants a Concord for your little sleeper cell of eco-activists~." His smirk was sharp as he turned to his laptop and started typing. I rolled my eyes. So Casimir had played us off as something completely different? Why was I not surprised? "Well, if my data’s right, most of the Concords left years ago. Only three members of the family remain. Tracking past movements? Easy. Modern day? That’s harder—since their name mostly shows up in history books and niche conspiracy theory circles." His fingers tapped at the keys. "Now, the matriarch is still here, and assuming she’s the grandparent in question, that only leaves…" He squinted at the screen. "Her son, Damien Concord. And he had a kid a few years back. A couple years older than you, if I had to guess." He suddenly shoved the laptop toward me. On the screen was an Insta-Snap page for a nursing home called Sweet Hugs. How… peachy. One of the older posts, from two years ago, showed an old woman in a wheelchair looking pissed as all hell. Behind her, a man beamed like he had just won the lottery. "Emily Concord. Recorded as a resident at Sweet Hugs nursing home as of 2023," Samuel said with a smirk. I narrowed my eyes. "That wasn’t as hard as you pretended it was, was it?" He shrugged, clearly amused. "Yes and no. Some things I keep recorded. Other things? Just public info." Before I could respond, he leaned back with a satisfied grin. "But hey, that’s not all Casimir asked me to do for you. So, in accordance with our deal, I need your handgun." He held out his hand expectantly. "Wait, what?" I frowned, confused. Without warning, he snatched my bag off my hip, dug around, and pulled out my pistol before casually tossing it into his car. "For the work you guys do, that puny C1912 ain’t gonna cut it. It’s a World War II relic—practically a paperweight. This, though?" He slipped something heavier into my bag. "This will be a tad more effective~." I grabbed my bag back, staring at him suspiciously. "And I don’t get to look at it until you’re gone?" "Nope. It’s a present." His grin widened. "Now, anything else?" I shook my head. The man behind me grunted as he walked past, slipping into the driver’s seat. "Pleasure doing business, puppy. If you’re ever on the market for more hidden info—call me~." Before I could respond, he flicked a business card into my hands. Then the engine roared to life. I barely had time to jump back before the Land Rover peeled out, tires screeching against the pavement as it shot down the alley and disappeared into the city. I exhaled, tightening my grip on my bag. What the hell did Casimir just get me into? <<set $revolver = True>> [[Sweet hugs]]

I ended up having to grab a cab to the care facility because it was a near three-hour walk but a simple half-hour drive instead. I had to pry open my bag, and the first thing I was met with was a note. "Understand what I've given you is nearly impossible to obtain legally in the market, but I owed Casimir a lot, so this is my way of repaying that debt. But be careful, the recoil on this baby can kill from impact alone~" — Signed Samuel. Underneath the note, I went pale as I stared at the behemoth of a shining silver magnum revolver sitting in my bag. On the side was engraved "Coltsmen .600 Magnum." I could feel the sweat forming on my brow as I looked down at the mortar of a gun sitting in my bag. I had seen videos of these guns turning someone into a fine mist and punching holes in gorillas the size of watermelons. A few speed loaders lined with a couple of rounds sat beneath the gun. But this wasn’t a normal gun. A handgun could kill a human—this mortar could kill a rhino in a single shot. "Why the hell... why would he...?" I muttered, pale in the face. That’s when the driver turned back and gave me a puzzled look. "Nothing, sorry, just got a surprising text is all," I quickly lied. The driver shrugged, turning back to the road as he took a small turn onto the highway. Casimir had called ahead to have me given a gun that could stop an elephant? Why? I wasn’t even part of his pack. I had to close my bag and sigh as I looked out the window for the rest of the ride. Once we arrived, I was so distracted that I pulled out a $50 bill and handed it to the driver without thinking. I was met with a large, single-floor complex gated off. Then it hit me—I was about to walk into a senior living facility with a loaded gun capable of turning a person to mist. Thankfully, past the sliding door entrance, I was met with a set of lockers for visitors. I set the bag in there while taking some money and my phone before approaching the help desk. A young woman looked up at me with a soft smile. "Hello there, welcome to Sweet Hugs Senior Care Facility. Is there anything I can do for you today?" "Hi... I'm here to see Emily Concord," I said with a fake smile as I realized I had no actual connection to her. "Oh, and what's your relationship to the patient?" Instantly, I screamed profanities in my head. "...Nephew. I'm her nephew on Damien’s side. Distant family and whatnot?~" I had to lie through my teeth. She frowned, clearly not believing me. "Sir, I appreciate the theatrics, but without a scheduled visit or PROPER relation to the patient, I can't let you through." I quickly played along and smiled. "Oh, it's alright. I'll have to call Great Aunt Emily next time and see if I can finally convince her to let me visit. She's impossible to get ahold of half the time, hahahaha..." I turned tail and walked back to the lockers. Shit, I needed to do something. [[Districation]] [[Bribery]]

I growled in annoyance as I headed back to the lockers when the hair on the back of my neck shot up. Suddenly, I had to duck just in time as a plastic cup whipped past my head with the force of a freight train. That’s when I heard the sound of an old man shouting and complaining. I looked back to see a man in his late 80s yelling up a storm at the receptionist. She was hurriedly pleading with him, desperately trying to calm him down. I felt a twinge of guilt watching the mess unfold, but then something sparked in my head. I grabbed the cup from the ground and promptly doinked it against the back of the old man’s head, using just enough strength for my Garou instincts to give me a boost. I managed to duck out of sight as the old man’s fury shifted to a random guest leaving through the front door. The poor receptionist went pale as she now had to chase after a grown man with a vendetta against a stranger. Once she was gone, I knew I had to take what little opportunity I had to slip past from my hiding spot. But out of guilt, I stopped by her desk, scribbled a quick apology note, and slapped a hundred dollars down in hopes that it might keep her mouth shut. Then, without hesitation, I turned around and booked it through the door leading to the main room past the receptionist’s desk. ".....Sorry," I muttered as I made it through the door. [[The main living room]]

I decided to bite my tongue. Maybe I'm not the best liar, but with enough money, anyone can be bought off. So back at the lockers, I reached in and pulled out every single dollar I had in the bag—all $700—stuffing it into my pocket as I turned around and walked back to the desk. "I'm sorry, but I forgot to ask—if I needed to call ahead of time, what number can I dial for you guys?" The receptionist gave me a disappointed look as she pointed to a business card, which I reluctantly snatched up. "You know... I've always wondered how much these places pay?" I said out loud as I rested my hand on the counter and glanced out a miscellaneous window. "Sir, I'm sorry, but—" She suddenly went silent as I shifted my fingers to the side, exposing the first $300 between them. "...Well, we certainly don't get paid enough..." she murmured, looking at me confused. "Oh no, it's such a shame. You guys do great work. I wouldn’t want you to go underpaid... But I mean, the service I’m getting right now just isn’t too great. But I’m sure if they paid YOU more, maybe you’d see my name on the list?" I said, cocking an eyebrow as I made eye contact in a desperate gamble. "Yeah... it is a shame..." She trailed off before suddenly straightening up. "Oh, I’m sorry, you're Joseph Concord... Go ahead and head to the main hall. Remember, your grandmother’s room is B17." I pushed the money over the desk, and she swiftly snaked it under the edge and into her pocket. "Best hurry... wouldn’t want her waiting too long." She turned her head back to her computer. Taking the subtle warning, I slipped past her and through the doors leading to the main hall. [[The main living room]]

Walking into the main room, I was instantly met with the putrid smell of burned rubber combined with expired milk. How it was so rank, I never wanted to know. Begrudgingly, I walked down the hall. I had to know who I was looking for—I had her photo. So I pulled it up, thinking to myself. That’s when something caught my nose, a scent different from the others. I could smell the sensation of seniors rotting in their beds, but this was entirely different. It was a deep cherry matched with a bitter chocolate. Damn it, it was so addictive. I inhaled the scent and let my body lead the way. I followed it down the hall, further into a smaller cabinet-looking area with a bold yellow STAFF ONLY sign on it. "For fuck’s sake....." I growled, annoyed. But that scent got closer—rapidly closer. That’s when I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Excuse me, are you looking for someone?" a heavyset blonde woman asked me. I stammered a bit. "Yeah... I’m... looking for... Emily Concord." I said as she looked me over. "Oh... well, Mrs. Concord is in the game room," she said, pointing to the other end of the room. I could smell the decay wretched up from that direction, so I had to stoic myself as I sighed in disappointment. "Right... thanks," I muttered as I stepped past her, feeling her eyes drilling into the back of my head. Walking into the room, I almost keeled over from the stench. It smelled like defecation and voiding. A more flowery description, but it was horrid. Walking past the old plastic chairs filled with wrinkling seniors, I saw her through the crowd—a massive scar tracing up her chin. I could see the trauma of war etched into her skin. I wormed through the crowd, but we locked eyes before I was halfway there. The toothy, snarling grin she gave me sent a chill down my spine. [[The old wolf]]

"I figured it was only a matter of time before someone saught me out to get me back in the fray~" Her sandpaper of a voice grated to my ears as she snickered to herself. "Though I would've hoped it would be a older leader, with actual expreince and not a fledging puppy." She growled annoyed. I opened my mouth to speak before she promplty barked at me. "Well no point in dawdling, Hurry up and get me out of this Wyrm infested shit hole!" She said loudly as she slammed the table. [img[https://media.istockphoto.com/photos/seniors-home-dining-at-christmas-picture-id183360320?k=20&m=183360320&s=612x612&w=0&h=ePTVbOEMtnzo0cnVVuSWLcXBw8aomuefhUXJg5W7UbE=]] "I...Nyup!" I had to dodged under the table as she attempted to swing at me. "Get up here and grab the chair already! Stupid whelps have no use!" She snarled at me. "I'm not here for you, you old bitch!" I barked back before bitting my tongue at the look of sheer rage on her yellowing face. "Don't you dare disrespect your-" Thats when suddenly she was grabbed by her chair and pulled off by a nurse. "Don't think I'm done with you, My grandson will be all over ass!" She threatened and flung up a storm, even other seniors ducked out of her way. "Grandson... Care taker.... He works here." The thoughts connected outloud. I felt my shoulders drop, as my eyes followed the woman. "I want Joeseph now-!!!" She kep fussing in the hall. "... Thanks for that you old coot..." I muttered to myself, Guess I was looking for Joeseph Concord. I walked after them but stopped when my nose caught that smell again. I could feel my mouth water. "Fucker......~" I growled annoyed as my attention was drawn to the scent. I followed after once more ending up in the same hallway but this time I ended up in kitchen area. I promptly shoved the door open and saw a old lady whisking away at a stand, She startled a bit as she dropped the whisk she was holding as she looked at me surprised. But that's when it was snatched from the air. "Mrs. Angela you need to watch yourself better." A young man chirped behind her, But we both froze up when we locked eyes. ".... Mrs. angela stay put." The man said before within seconds I was being yanked out from the kitchen. Then promplty I was placed back down in a closet as the man turned to me. "What are you here for?" The man said as he looked at me concerned. [[Explanation]]

The man known as Joeseph stood there a bit conflicted as he looked me up and down. "... I hope your kidding." He muttered concerned. "Not for a second of it unfortunately." I said with a shrug. "ugh.... Well as flattered as I am, If you couldn't tell. I have a different charge to handle.... unfortunately." He growled annoyed. "I have to look over my grandmother." He said with a disinterested sigh. "I thought Garou could choose they're pack." I said following him up. "Well.... Yes we can but I mean... I can't just abandon my grandmother. She's.... A relative, So I'm kinda tied here." He said as he turned to me. "As much as I apprieacte the offer, unless something changed rapidly. I'm stuck here." He winced as he looked at the door behind him. "....And could you clarify what would need to happen?" I say curious. "Well my grandmother would need to be put in a higher grade facility and... I'd need an excuse to leave this place one that my father would have to approve of." He murmured to the ground. ".... Figures." I say with an unsurprised shrug. "Though.... you said your grandmother would need to go to a different facility. What are the critia for that?" "She'd need to either have a stay paid for or be transferred for a security or medical reason." He said. I stopped to myself as I attempted to dredge up some sort of idea in the back of my head. "I got nothing.... as much as I want to come up with something." I said. He winced to himself, "Well.... At the very least we can keep in contact. you came all this way and played through to find me." He said as he puleld out a cell phone, I handed hi mine to which he promptly inserted his number and my phone vibrated with a notifaction of a text. "There, You have my number..... Well why your here, I can give you a tour. Maybe show you this place isn't to entirely bad. as bad as it smells, But if you have to go I'll make sure to put it on hold for the next time you visit." He said with a faint smile. <<set $Joeseph += 1>> [[Go for the tour]] [[Back to the Caern]]

NEXT UPDATE BIAAATTTCH!!!

I opened my eyes as I looked around me to see the cabins and shook my head to the side to clear the brain fog. I looked up as I pulled out my phone and pulled up my text messages. Maybe there was a chance to catch up with someone else or I could go back to someone I still need to recruit. Pretty much anything was on the table, unless I still need to find them. If that's the case I should work on chasing down whatever leads Casimir and the pack can give me. <<if $Joeseph == 1>> The text from Joeseph appeared on my phone as I looked over remebering the idea of the tour he had. Maybe that was something I could finally tackle? [[Go for the tour]] <<else>> [[The Downtown Theurge]] <</if>> <<if $Roy == 1>> I had the lovely vet wolf on stand by in my phone,Waiting for me to return and help drag his but out of that dumpster fire and back here so he can explain to Casimir. I can always diecide to nip him in the bud. [[The VA]] <<else>> [[The resevior Ahroun]] <</if>> <<if $lyra == 1>> I know for a fact I need to wait a few more hours before she's ready to pack and relocate. Maybe not even till tommorow so I should take what time I have to hang out and update the others. Maybe I could go after another person in that time? [[Gavin time]] <<else>> [[The Greenmill Philodox]] <</if>> (If you have all three events completed above then thats all you have from here folks, Next up comes the second half of the recruitment arc for chapter 1!!)

I felt the ice-cold water slam into the back of my head as I was promptly spat back out the other side of the water. A strange tingling sensation crawled up the back of my spine. [img[https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/6316614c27c2cc4b428c20ab/1680471654045-9F05V7A37SX9RBUTG6B4/IMG_6987.jpg?format=1500w&content-type=image%2Fjpeg]] "Rough landing, cub?" I heard the spirit question me. "You could say that..." I said as I stood up, brushing off the droplets of water from my clothes and flicking my shoes dry. "I wish she hadn't done that, but what does that change?" I muttered, walking out from the water and looking onto the rocky, snow-covered area around me. Off in the distance, a metal fence was erected with barbed wire, the faint stream moving at my feet as I stepped back from the water further. "Such a peaceful area... The Indigenous were always my favorite kindred. They cared for and respected the land like no others~" the spirit daydreamed. "...Biased much?" I said to the spirit as I felt it settle around me like a roped hook. "Bias isn't relative in this situation. Plus, it's not bias so much as it's a preference—something most people fail to understand more often than not... I mean, you can't tell me that from what you've learned of them, they deserved any of this." I felt the pain of a long debate tugging at the back of my head. "No, of course they didn't. But what exactly can I do? I mean, I can sling a vote into the box in hopes things change, but one voice doesn’t have much outcry against millions of others... But you're right. They never deserved any of this," I growled, annoyed. "It's too much of a conversation to have now, but the point still stands," the spirit agreed. "And please, stop addressing me as 'spirit.' My name is Thymos. How many times must I remind you? I hope not again." [[The resevoire]]

Trailing myself down the hill, I wasn’t all too surprised when I came across a few lower-end residential homes before walking straight into a mini-home neighborhood. I had to skirt through there relatively quickly when I started getting stares from kids, confused as to why I was walking their streets. Cleaving through the backsides of a couple of cars and weaving through plants a bit further down, I finally seemed to reach what looked like a less occupied dirt street. The isolated road had me feeling a bit paranoid, being alone on the street in the middle of the day, so I figured—why the hell not take a bit of a risk? Dropping into some shrubs and shifting into Lupus with the strap of my bag in my maw, I belted down the road at a full, breakneck pace. It was nice to throw caution to the wind for a bit, bidding my time hiding in shrubs and bushes when the only car passed. Finally, I got to run like a madman and give my wolf self a stretch. After a few minutes of sprinting down the street in wolf form, I shifted back into human when I arrived at what seemed to be an extremely small local market area. "Rinky-dink bar, gas station, lumber store? And a... is that a playground or an outdoor gym?" It wasn’t hard to figure out it was both when I looked over the sign reading: "Funded by the gracious members of Green Mill’s Historical Preservation Committee." I shrugged a bit as I looked over the sign, ignoring the aching, obvious cantered thought itching at the back of my head as I walked past the park and to the edge of the street. The sun hung lazily over the somewhat dusty, snow-covered plains valley all around me. If I had to guess, it was probably connected to Green Mill off the beaten path by a few minutes through a mountain road of some sort. Shrugging my shoulders, I thought to myself about which place I should visit first. I didn’t think it really mattered. If I wanted to, I could always do both—granted, that’s if I really chose to. [[Hardware Store]] [[Gas Station]]

"Eh, might as well stop by and grab a water bottle seeing as I didn't get much before I got here." I shrugged to myself as I Walked into the gas station and felt the ac pelt me as I heard the bell ring over head when I walked in. I saw the lone teenage-ish looking guy sitting at the cashier to which he nodded to me, I nodded back and walked down the aisles. Transeni and Mugi bottled water lined the shelves of the single cooler section. [img[https://gasstationforsale.ca/wp-content/uploads/2021/08/15.jpeg]] "Figures they'd line the shelves with name brand waters to try and up charge as much as they could for - What the hell.....?'' The water's price tag was covered up and marked down to a $1.50 for a good 20 ounce water bottle, Most people would jack the price up by a dollar or more to make a quick profit. I grabbed 2 bottles and checked the backs seeing the exact same price on both. "God damn..... Fucking steal." I say as I scooped up 3 of the bottles and walked to the front, I set both bottles on the counter as the young guy looked up at me. "... So this all?" The young man poked me with the question as he looked me up and down. "nuh... No just this.... Please?" I asked slightly tensed from the aura of interagation the man was giving me. "Pfffft. Your not from here are you?" He sad with a sudden snicker as he plugged in the numbers to an old looking cashier. "No... I'm from downtown Green mill, I'm not too familiar with the area...." I say scratching the back of my neck nervously. "Well clearly you've never been to Arahavo before. Mostly every homeless person here is know by name and there little section of the freeway, But your face sure as shit new to me." He said with a smirk. "Lemme guess, That's why you were day dreaming in the corner about the bottle prices? Heheheh yeah we've been marking prices down too keep y'all from going ass up in the snow." The man teased. "But your different.... Aren't you, I can tell your homeless. the bags under your eyes and just recovering sickly pale skin. tell tale signs but you've got a gleem of hope in your eyes saying you've got something kicking you off the curb." The man said with a sarcastic grin, leaving my happy ass floored as to described how this man was so easily reading me. Am I a book's protagonist or something, Is it that easy to see what's going inside me head?! "Chill dude. It's all good, sense your new to the area no one's gunna bug yah too much if you don't be a thorn or OD on the side of the road. We don't care what you do so long as you don't make it our problem." He said with a casual eye roll "Uh... Well ignoring how easily you read me.... I'm actually hoping to find somewhere, The veteran's assocation? I know its down a road somewhere but would you know where?" I say proding hopefully. "Nah, But I know the owner of the joint. Vasquez, Old bastard generally spends his day locked up in his office but the second he's off, he's shit talking his old CO at the bar. My best guess is that he's there right now If you hurry over you can probably bug him for whatever you need." The man says with an idle snap of his fingers recounting the info directly to me. "Uh right... Thanks, I appriecate all the info." I say as I grab up all my water bottles and bolted out the store with a hand wave. [[Hardware Store]] [[Albino Rhino]]

I grabbed the cold, spray-painted handle of the bar and gently pushed it open, only to be shotgunned point-blank in the face with a cloud of weed smoke. I had to step off to the side, coughing for a few seconds before plugging my nose, squinting my eyes, and edging into the bar. [img[https://www.tripsavvy.com/thmb/nCUscOdREX1y4MPf58o2B3JEUmA=/600x0/filters:no_upscale():max_bytes(150000):strip_icc()/7.-jeremy-s-ale-house-56a5ee905f9b58b7d0df33c0.jpg]] Only three people sat around the joint: one older man sitting at the bar by himself, another younger man smoking from a bong, and an older woman flicking away on her phone. I glanced around, hoping maybe one of the three would have a lead on the Veterans Association. But I couldn’t assume shit until I finally dug my heels in and started asking around. Just as I prepped to do exactly that, the bartender emerged from the back—my instant savior from the silence. "Alright, Vasquez, this is the last one I’m serving you. You need to be down at the VA in 30 minutes, so finish your shit, and I’ll see you tonight at Dominique’s for poker." The bartender wiped a random glass and set a beer in front of the man, who was idly poking at a sandwich on a paper plate. Instantly sinking my teeth into the juicy coincidence, I slipped up to the bar, flipped the bartender my ID, and turned toward Vasquez. He looked at me, slightly confused. "You work at the VA?" I asked him. "…It was obvious you were eavesdropping, so it’s pointless to answer you seriously. But yes, I do. Why? Someone your age should be speaking to a recruiter." He grumbled, tearing a chunk out of his sandwich with his teeth. "As absolutely horrible as that idea is, if you have questions." "I’m not looking to join up. Ever, frankly. But that’s not what matters. I was hoping you could help me find someone." I said, keeping my face straight. "Kid… I’m not gonna drop everything I’m doing just to give you information that should usually be illegal to share in the first place." He bluntly rejected. "Uh… I can pay you?" I tried. "Nope." He shot me down without hesitation. I could feel my throat clenching up as desperation clawed at the back of my mind. "Look, if you really wanted to find a guy, wouldn’t it make more sense to go straight to the internet or something?" "I can’t. I don’t know much about him." And that seemed to seal the deal on my fate. The man abruptly picked up his sandwich and swigged his beer. "Then I sure as shit ain’t gonna help you." I grit my teeth, watching him walk around the bar and head toward the door. <<if $nature == "Nuetral">> [[Beg]] <<elseif $nature == "Unwilling">> [[Bargain]] <<elseif $personality == "Willing">> [[Shout]] <</if>> [[Beg]]

"Please! If I don’t find him, the only person in my life could end up homeless—like me! My life is already a broke mess, but I can’t let the only person who gave me a reason to get up in the morning down anymore! I have an eleven-year-old waiting for me in the cabin I call home, deep in the forest, hoping every day that I wake up and somehow manage to live up to the monumental task given to me the day his only family died—to save me!" I felt my heart pounding, my breath ragged as the words poured out, unfiltered, unchecked. "I don’t care what it takes to keep that child from ending up like me! If I have to rip the muscle from my own bones, if I have to crawl through hell and throw myself at your feet in some suicidal attempt to convince you—I will!" The heat of my desperation surged forward, my voice shaking the room. "Veterans make sacrifices so others can live happy lives! You know what it feels like to watch others suffer, no matter how much you try to make things better! You know the risk, the price of just trying to do the right thing for their sake, and yet somehow, you’re still the one getting screwed over for it! I inhaled sharply, my throat burning. "I know I’m not the best person. Hell, I know I’m going to burn in whatever hell is waiting for me the day I die—cold, alone, in the streets. But I don’t care if it means that, for a single moment, that child can smile under the sunlight and live a life with even a shred of joy!" My hands clenched into fists. "If it meant he could have something better, I’d crucify myself on a cross with my throat slit!" The words rang out through the bar, hanging in the silence. The bartender had stopped mid-wipe, the other two patrons frozen in place, all staring. Even Vasquez stood still, his back half-turned, his body tense. Slowly, he turned to face me, stunned that I’d shouted so publicly, so unrestrained. I exhaled shakily, my body trembling from the outburst. "I’d drop to my hands and knees, covered in blood, sweat, and bile… my eyes gouged from my skull, on the brink of death… if it meant that child ended up with a life one-billionth better than mine." The silence stretched. “…Fuck…” Vasquez muttered, running a hand down his face. He sighed, shaking his head. "Alright, alright. Just… get out of here before I get kicked out permanently." His voice was gruff, but there was no anger in it—just reluctant acceptance. I inhaled deeply, forcing myself to pull it together, then jogged out of the bar, still slightly embarrassed by the scene I’d just made. Behind me, Vasquez grumbled under his breath, his voice laced with annoyance and embarrassment. "Hell of a way to put me on the spot, don’t you think?" [[The path]]

as we drove in his broken down pick up truck he finally broke the tension. "So you wanna tell me what you know about this mystery person you think I can find for yah?" He said slightly akwardly. "We'll The biggest thing is I know he lives near the resevoire. He's retired like you I think.... supposedly he's dangerous and kinda vicous?" I didn't have time to finish my sentence. "Roy Tyrall..... I.... I know him, He's the only other Vet in the area. He's been in his house for.... Years now by himself, I haven't seen him leave his house in at least 3 years. I'm surprised anyone would know about him. How is Roy of all people so important to you?" He looked at me with an interested glint in his eyes. "Someone I know wants to talk to him.... If they can get in contact with him through me.... Well my whole speech is rendered moot and thats the goal in this all." I say as I looked out the window. "Hell of reason to spill your guts out in front of a stranger in a desperate gamble." He murmured to himself. "Everything I do is a gamble for his sake... My kid's I mean... Not my kid, The kid I'm.... You get the gist." I say embarrased. ".... I can't gaurentee that Roy is even going to listen to a single peep of you. He'd rather load up a rifle and put a bullet down range then listen to reason anymore.... Maybe it's a good thing he can't anymore. Too bad the reason he can't is so bad." The man said to himself. "I heard he was a husk of his former self... Did something happen to him?" I say curious. ".... What didn't happen is the bigger question with Roy.... from his file and.... other reasoning. I know he lost almost his entire squad on deployment and well the biggest thing.... Nearly every nerve in his body is singed and his left arm and leg are entirely...... gone." I felt my heart slam in my chest as I listened Vasquez's explantation. My own hand almost instinctively moved up to the burn scars on my own neck and face. tracing the scarred and leathery skin aged from years of faux recovery. Suddenly the car stopped off the edge of a gravel road. I looked up confused, The man got out of his seat and opened the doors. "Roy is up the hill 10 minutes from here, The Va's office is another 10 minutes towards the highway. follow either path and you'll end up where ever you need to be. If things don't go the way you're fantasizing they go come find me and I'll try and recover your broken ego. Other wise your on your own for this." The man said with a gruff snort. ".... But if..... there is a slim chance in the Devil's eye you manage this.... tell him Vasquez is still open handed." He said with a growl as the car started back up when I got out and he drove off. ".... Wouldn't be the first time I handle this by myself." I say outloud as I looked up at the pathway ahead of me. [[Brandishing]]

My feet moved quickly as I navigated the snow-speckled, rocky path toward my destination. I knew that whoever this man was, people were afraid of him. I had to be careful. But to be this far out, away from civilization, was concerning in its own right. [img[https://imagecarrier.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/12/161208ap1747_IMCR.jpg]] The climb up the path wasn’t difficult in itself, but the eerie solitude gnawed at me. Then, through the shade of the trees, I spotted numerous spray-painted signs, each scrawled with crude warnings. I hesitated, my gut twisting. But I had come too far to turn back now. Whatever lay ahead, I had to see it through. Leaping over a ledge onto a massive stone, I barely had time to react before my legs nearly slammed into a bear trap. I jerked backward with a sharp gasp, heart hammering in my chest. The jagged steel jaws gleamed beneath me, inches away from snapping shut. "Shit…" I panted, horror clawing at my ribs. If I hadn't been in Glabro, if my reflexes had been just a fraction slower, that thing would’ve crushed my legs in an instant. "Maybe he is a threat… More than they described." I muttered, rubbing the spot where my bones would have been shattered. I pressed forward, a billion times more careful. The deeper I went, the worse it got—another five traps, each one meticulously placed to catch the unwary. My mind raced. This wasn’t paranoia. This was preparation. "Can’t say this is my… FUCK—" I nearly plummeted straight into a pitfall lined with wooden spikes, my body lurching forward before my hook instinctively snagged the ground at the last second. My breath caught in my throat. "This is getting too risky… Maybe you should leave and come back with a plan." Thymos suggested, his voice laced with warning. But something in me burned hotter than fear—a stubborn, simmering rage. My grip tightened on the rope at my hip. "No." I tore it free, spinning the hook before launching it at a nearby tree. The metal bite found purchase, and I pulled myself up, using Glabro’s strength to swing through the trees. Vaulting from branch to stone, I only stepped onto the ground after vigorously testing each spot with my grappling hook. What Vasquez said would take minutes stretched into a painstaking hour of calculated movement, but finally—finally—I caught sight of it. The house. It sat shrouded in overgrown plants, its roof dotted with solar panels. A rusted, beat-up car rested behind a massive steel-wire fence, the entire property exuding an aura of quiet, calculated survival. I pulled myself over the fence and landed hard, my hook still clenched tightly in my hand. [[Duck]]

Only upon hearing the click of a cocking mechanism did I barely duck under the bullet that whipped past my head. The gunshot itself was eerily quiet; I could recognize the type of bullet, but the gun was suppressed. Weaving quickly behind the car, I had to listen to the sound of something clicking back and slamming forward. [img[https://www.publicdomainpictures.net/pictures/250000/velka/cabin-in-the-woods-15172479132jz.jpg]] "Bolt action," Thymos quickly stated. Promptly running out from behind the car gave just enough of a chance to dodge the next shot lined up. "For a paraplegic, he shoots fast!" I said as I slammed into a stone wall at the edge of his house. "He was shooting from the top window on the left side of his house. Ten feet above you—he can't get you from here, but we can both assume he has something planned if you go for his front door," Thymos hissed to himself. "You'll have to take him by surprise if you want to stand a better chance at confronting him." "I thought this was supposed to be a conversation, not a fight to the death!" I shouted as I heard banging coming from within the house. Whoever this dude was, he knew what he was doing. "Fuck... I'm not exactly used to fighting a tactical ex-veteran!" I shouted to myself as I looked at his front door. "What am I supposed to do?!" <<if $revolver == True>> [[Gun it]] <<elseif $newhook == True>> [[Break the window]] <<else>> [[Loop him]] <</if>>

I felt the cold steel already pressed into my fingers as I gripped the barrel of the massive hand cannon stowed in my bag. Ripping it out, I quickly dropped a full cylinder of bullets into the chambers and spun it shut. Like the cowboys in westerns! The thought rushed through my head as my feet slammed against the ground, propelling me toward the front door. "What are you doing?! You'll get shot!" Thymos howled, confused. But instincts weren’t the only thing I had to rely on. Lunging for the door, I heard the gunshot—but I didn’t reach for the knob. Instead, I pivoted off my heel and jumped back, narrowly dodging the bullet. Then, using the split-second opening from the bolt-action reload, I gunned for it. The hammer was already locked back, the weight of the gun digging into my ring finger as I pulled the trigger. A click. Then the gun kicked back so hard, my entire arm snapped backward from the sheer force. Even boosted in Glabro, the recoil nearly sent the weapon flying into my forehead. But to say the hole it punched through the door wasn’t massive would be an understatement. The door itself almost gave out, a bowling ball-sized hole gaping through the wood as the bullet ripped through whatever was beyond it. I didn’t hesitate. Kicking the door in, I stepped through, hammer cocked again, my aim locked onto the man now sprawled on the ground—pale-faced, stunned. My fangs bared as I glared down at him. "Drop... the gun... now." I growled, my fingers grazing the trigger. "Go on, then... kill me. Just make sure you get me in the head. I'd rather go out quickly," he growled back, defiant. I cocked an eyebrow, confused. "...I'm not going to kill you. If you hadn't shot at me, you'd realize we're similar," I said, my slit pupils glinting dangerously as recognition dawned in his eyes. His left side was riddled with blast scars and claw marks. A massive tribal-lined tattoo stretched over his olive skin, deep freckles covering his nose bridge and jaw. His short, scruffy beard framed his face as he stared me down. In a single heartbeat of a glance, we both knew exactly who and what we were. [[Confrontation]]

Gritting my teeth, feeling the adrenaline pumping through my body at an already insane pace, I grabbed the hook from around my palm, swinging it like a madman as I lunged out from my hiding spot. My eyes locked onto the closest window. My claw-like hook shot through it, shattering the glass like a grenade. Feeling it hook onto the wall, I grabbed the rope and yanked myself toward it. Transformed strength boosted my agility as I slipped through the window, earning only a minor cut on my shoulder before crashing onto a garbage-covered couch. I barely had a chance to make eye contact with the man in front of me—his rifle trained on me. I couldn't dodge this time. The bullet tore through my shoulder, but adrenaline is a hell of a drug. It let me gun the man down in one fluid leap, my hand closing firmly around his throat as my claws sank into his skin. I growled. "Fucking do it!" the man shouted as I finally had a chance to stop and look at him from above. His left side was riddled with blast scars and claw marks. A massive tribal-lined tattoo stretched over his olive skin, deep freckles covering his nose bridge and jaw. His short, scruffy beard framed his face as he stared me down from where he was pinned. He was in Glabro too, but with my hooked weapon pressed against his throat, I was the one in control. "…Drop the gun… now…" I panted, locking eyes with him. "I'm… not here to kill you, you paranoid psychopath… Look at me." I growled, my annoyance growing as the pulse of my bullet wound throbbed in my shoulder. After a second, the agony in his eyes was replaced with surprise. "You're…?" he growled, confused. "Yeah, I'm Garou. Now can we talk, or am I gonna need to keep a blade to your throat to get you to listen?" I warned. [[Confrontation]]

"Shit, shit, shit?!" I shouted desperately, with no time to think before I was sprinting for the hills. "What is this supposed to be?!" Thymos shouted, confused, as I nearly weaved between trees in the yard, gunshot after gunshot chasing after me. "I can't just bum-rush a man with a gauged rifle scoping me in like a fish in a barrel!" I said, sliding behind the same car I had ducked behind earlier. But I didn’t stop moving. Instead, my feet picked me up once more, and I was running again. I circled his yard three times before something clicked empty. "He's out!!!" Thymos didn’t need to repeat himself. I understood immediately. Gun and hook drawn, I cannonballed through the man’s weak front door, my entire weight crashing through the rotted wood. If you can’t outgun a soldier... My feet swiveled, and my gaze locked onto the man—dumbfounded, a fresh magazine clutched in his hands. Outfox them! With that, I closed the gap and choke-slammed him out of his wheelchair and onto the floor. My gun pressed firmly against his temple as a warning, my hook clawing dangerously close to his throat. "...Drop... huff... the fucking rifle, or I’ll give you a real reason to shoot me," I commanded, pushing my arm into his shoulder and driving my heel into his wrist, pinning his one good arm down. I watched as his fingers slackened around the trigger. "...Just do it already... put me out of my misery," the man growled in surrender, his head lolling to the side. I cocked an eyebrow, slightly confused by how easily he had given up. "...For an Ahroun, you give up way too easily," I commented. His eyes snapped open in surprise. His left side was riddled with blast scars and claw marks. A massive tribal-lined tattoo stretched over his olive skin, deep freckles covering his nose bridge and jaw. His short, scruffy beard framed his face as he stared me down. "You're...?" he stammered, confused. "Yeah... I'm Garou. Just like you," I affirmed. [[Confrontation]]

The two of us glared each other down from opposite sides of his garbage heap of a living room. Trash bags lined the walls, and the tension in the air was suffocating. The bloodstains on the floor from our earlier debacle were still fresh, and I had to patch myself up with whatever remained of a dusty old militia med kit. [img[https://i.pinimg.com/originals/29/52/0e/29520ebfef294f4996781f32b2119c06.jpg]] "Why are you here?" the man abruptly asked as I finished bandaging one of my scrapes. "Oh gee, now you decide to ask? How thoughtful!" I shot back without thinking. "You trespassed through nearly half a mile of traps and warning signs thinking we'd have a peaceful chat over some tea?!" the man spat with disgust. "Says the psycho who put them up on public land!" I snapped. We proceeded to shout at each other back and forth for a good minute or two, both of us too stubborn to back down. Only once I had vented gallons of pent-up rage at him did I finally huff to myself, letting my Glabro healing factor start setting my body back to normal. "I'm here on behalf of the Lakeview Garou pack. They want you to join up with them," I finally said, tying off the bandage and slipping back into my shirt. "What?" The man blinked at me, stunned. "People want me? To help them?" He sounded like he couldn't believe I had just said that. "I'm gonna pretend you asked why," I muttered. "The pack's numbers are low. Outside of me, there are only three other functioning Garou in that pack. They need someone with your skills on their side. And unfortunately, the slim pickings led me straight to your bear traps and pitfalls..." I growled in annoyance. "I don't help humans," he muttered. "But Garou... What exactly are they trying to do?" "I think they're trying to take Green Mill and Lakeview back to a better state than they used to be. At least, that’s what I’ve been told so far. I don’t know if they have any drastic, massive plans. I'm just a voice piece for them," I said, dusting off my shoulders. "…Do they need me in person, or can I offer my support through connections and information?" he asked. "I can only assume in person, but I’m sure anything you can give them will help," I shrugged. "Here. Take this and give it to your chief. That’s all you’re getting from me. Don’t come back, and don’t expect me to do this ever again. My signs say shoot on sight for a reason," the man growled, throwing a book into my lap. "Uh... No." I glared at him. "Look, they need help. I’m supposed to bring you to them. So the very least you can do, if you're gonna reject me, is tell the boss in person." "I'm not just gonna listen to a whelp for no—" I grabbed his shirt collar and yanked him forward, our faces inches apart. "I'm coming back," I growled, my voice a low, dangerous snarl. "When I do, you’re going to be dressed and ready to leave this garbage dump and explain to my boss exactly why you're refusing. If you don’t, I will burn this trash heap to the ground, drag your charred body in front of him, and make you beg for the chance to join up." I let my claws press just slightly into his skin, watching his eyes widen. "So, pick. Do you wanna play nice and get what you want at some minor inconvenience? Or do you wanna pick a fight with someone who has fully functioning limbs and nothing to lose?" My grip tightened slightly. "I think it's obvious. But by all means... give me a reason to go back to prison." Five minutes later, I was walking out of his house with a map of safe passage and a phone number saved in my phone for when I decided to return to his lovely abode sometime soon. [[The road]]

Back down the safe path, I looked at the grass where small tracks were imprinted into the road. I could see the difference between where a car had once been parked and where bikes had slipped past. Chugging down one of the bottles of water stowed in my bag, I took a deep breath, checking over the now-healed paper cuts that had once lined my body—to my chagrin. It felt a lot better to be out of that hellhole of a living arrangement. As the setting sun cast long shadows down the road, a thought suddenly hit me. "Oh fuck, I forgot to tell him about that Vasquez guy... Oh well, I’ll do it when I drag him out of that pit next time," I muttered with a shrug. It was around six o’clock, and the evening was creeping in with every passing second. There were still things I could do—maybe head back to the VA and check in with Vasquez, see if I could dig up more info on Roy. Or I could just go home and crash for the night. "I think whatever decision you make, you should still take pride in the progress you’ve made so far. Bringing Gavin to the pack, surviving your first real shootout—those are some serious accomplishments," Thymos said with a quick cheer in his voice. "Thanks, Thymos," I said, exhaling. "I can’t deny the compliment, but there’s still more work to be done. Though... a good collapse and some food sound just as appealing." I sighed, rolling my shoulders. I needed to figure out the next best step. [[Back to the Caern]] [[The VA]]

NEXT UPDATE BIAAATTTCH!!!

"....Do you have kids, Mr. Vasquez?" I said as something twitched on my forehead. I felt a vein throbbing on the top of my head. "If I did, why does it matter? If you threatened 'em, I'd call the cops on your ass," the man said as he looked at me. ".... I wasn't threatening you... I asked because I have one. I have a child I'm taking care of, who's counting on me this very moment. I have an 11-year-old orphan living with me in a desperate attempt for him to live a normal life. You fought in a war to keep people safe, you made the ultimate sacrifice yourself. But so did his dad. So did my child's dad... His father made the ultimate sacrifice as he died out on the battlefield with a bullet hole in his chest, thinking of his son and how he was leaving him," I said as I stared the man in the eyes. "Think I'm lying if you want. Think that I'm someone desperately searching for another veteran in hopes that maybe, if I find him, I can restore some semblance of control. That maybe, if I manage to find a needle in a haystack, I could do the only thing that matters to me anymore," I said as the light in my eyes dulled a bit and I stepped forward. "My life doesn't matter. Frankly, I'd jump off a bridge and crawl out of the burning inferno pits of hell with my feet nailed together on a rusty railroad spike, with my hands covered in barbed wire—all if it meant that child would have a good life. My life is a small price to me. I live through my own personal hell every day. And if that means I can spend that hell and my suffering to give an 11-year-old boy, whose uncle died because of me, a second chance... There's no point in denying what I'd do for that boy in a heartbeat," I said, lifting up my jacket, revealing the numerous entrenched scars across my wrist and pale, sickly patches all along my body. "Now... my suffering and agony aside... I'll ask one more time. I need you to help me find someone. Will you help me?" [[The path]]

"Do you have kids, Vasquez?!" I snapped, my voice sharp, my breath heavy. A vein pulsed in my forehead, my fingers twitching at my sides. "If I did, why the hell would it matter? If you’re threatening 'em, I swear to God, I'll—" "I'm not threatening anyone!" I roared, stepping forward with a reckless abandon that sent a chair scraping backward under my boot. "I asked because I have one! An eleven-year-old kid who’s counting on me! A kid who lost his father on the battlefield, a father who took a bullet to the chest thinking about his son the son I’m raising! becuase of a promise I had to make!" My voice cracked, but I didn’t stop. "You wanna call me crazy? You wanna say I’m grasping at straws, desperately chasing ghosts, trying to make sense of all this bullshit? Fine. Think whatever the hell you want about me! But I don’t have the goddamn luxury of second-guessing myself. I can’t afford to sit around and wonder if I'm making the right choices, because every second I waste is a second that kid gets closer to losing what little he has left in this world! He's watched his uncle die in front of him and his mother walk out on him at birth! You think he has much left at all?!" I slammed my fist against my own chest, the impact dull compared to the fire burning in my throat. "I don't care what happens to me! I don’t care if I get shot, torn apart, burned alive again, Burried alive with my throat slit! I'll crawl out of my grave with my bare hands through broken glass if it means that kid gets to live the life his father died hoping he’d have!" My jacket fell open as I yanked at the cuff, exposing the ugly web of scars slashed across my wrists, the sickly patches of skin stretched over my body like a road map of past failures. I pointed at them, snarling through gritted teeth. "You think I give a shit about what happens to me?! You think I won’t gamble away my flesh if it means giving that boy a chance?!" I took another step forward, my body shaking with the weight of my own words. "So here’s your choice, Vasquez! You help me or you sit there and watch as I throw myself into hell over and over until I either find the man I’m looking for or I die trying!" My breath was ragged, my vision tunneling in on him. My hands clenched into fists so tight, my nails threatened to break skin. "One. Last. Time," I growled, my voice barely above a whisper but carrying more weight than any scream ever could. "I need you to help me. Will you help me?" [[The path]]

I yawned to myself as my eyes adjusted to the hazy darkness ahead of me, the pang of my hangover from last night still gently throbbing in the back of my head. I sighed as I scratched the back of my head. That's when I caught scent of it—the distinct smell I've come to know all too well. Looking past the dumpsters in the back alley, I finally saw it. The crimson, viscous liquid poured out from the bag. "He's fresh..." I said with a wince in my one good eye. I looked over at the bag from here. I would be an idiot to actually touch it. Knowing DNA scanning and all that, it was fairly common nowadays, even if it took days to do. I still didn't want to risk it. "Wonder who you had to piss off this time... Definitely not a homeless dude. We don't chop up. We cut and leave for dead, not mutilate and maim," I said with disgust as I saw the bag shift from the weight of a severed limb sticking out like a bulge in the plastic. I sighed as I turned away and trudged back out of the alley. My eyes traced along the people walking the streets alongside me as I walked out. I could feel the dozens of eyes scrolling past me as I walked, the path below my feet crunching faintly with snow, lining me with white noise. Of course, no one here would ever acknowledge the underbelly beneath this all. The eyes staring up at them from the black, inky abyss of crime staring them in the eyes. But of course, they'll keep their faces buried in whatever cheap solution keeps the dopamine flowing in their heads to numb the sensations of fear creeping up their backs. Hell, I do the same all the time. My solutions just come with the answer settled at the bottom of a bottle. It's not like I'm a saint. I couldn't be a righteous hero rallying the people around me in a desperate bid to reclaim a life in the face of obvious terror. "Just be and let be," I muttered to myself as I looked at the cash hidden away in my pocket—my next planned escape. [[Pawn shop]]

My eyes weren't all that interested in whatever lazily glowing neon signs attempted to grab my attention on the side of the road as I walked further along, minding my business. Though I felt the cold metal of the flask clinking in my pocket, one sign did catch my attention—a hazy blue and red flashing in a patterned repetition. "Pawn shop open," I muttered to myself. Always a quick solution to build up cash if I had something rare or just enough junk to make a quick buck. Either way, it was another source of financial flow for me. So, turning in the snow, I pressed across the street, waiting as a car passed ahead of me before I finally walked across to it. [img[https://media.socastsrm.com/wordpress/wp-content/blogs.dir/1479/files/2019/01/pawn1.jpg]] Pushing open the door, I was met with the smell of must and old coffee. It felt like an appropriate smell for a joint such as this. Walking along the counters, I looked over the useless, pledgy junk encased in it. Hidden away were any items worth more than $50. Figures—anything worth a profit. Not much of this was worth my attention. So, post-quick transaction with a random old man behind the counter, I was ready to go. As I turned to leave, that's when the same pang of a hangover washed over me. This one was big, though—not a flash, but a good stab in the back of my neck, dropping me to my knees in pain as I grabbed my forehead. "Mother?!" I attempted to curse as I was dropped to the ground, but that's when something snagged my eye. It was almost a faint blip, a quick movement just out of the corner of my eye beneath a table. A box labeled "junk," lined with dust and its lid wide open. What was this? Why was it buried away? Slowly, my hand reached out and grabbed the edge of the box, dragging it out. Curiosity itched at the back of my consciousness. "Junk is definitely right... This all just—" That's when my hand grazed something, and that same stabbing pang jammed itself into my neck. "Take it!" I heard the voice scream as my fingers spasmed shut around the item. I grabbed my head and recoiled as I leaned back, trying to get my bearings. Staggering up from the table, I looked around—the man was still on the ground, but my head was throbbing, and a book was now in my hand. My thoughts slowly cleared a bit as I got my wits together. [[Ask about it]] [[Hagel with him]] [[Steal the book]]

I bobbed up from the water in a small pond-like structure, my head slipping out from the water and into the open air as I walked out onto a patch of grass surrounding the pond. Moving out from where I was placed, I flicked my shoes dry as I looked around the abandoned park. [img[https://i1.wp.com/architecturalafterlife.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/01/dsc02253.jpg?resize=768%2C513&ssl=1]] A dirt-covered jungle gym was overtaken by a massive tangle of vines. My feet trudged out as I landed onto the rocks that made up the weird underpath for the park. It wasn't all too charming, as I could smell the mold all around me, but it was nice to see nature blossoming in an impossible place. It was like an odd mural to the endurance of nature—to blossom and grow no matter the place. "Mother Gaia would be proud," I heard the centipede spirit murmur to me from my back. "Jesus Christ... Right, Thymos, I keep forgetting. But you don't need to jump-scare me every damn time you wanna speak to me," I said, shaking off the nerves from my neck. "Oh please, I can't help your unnatural fear of me any more than humans need to sleep. I might scare you on occasion—who cares?" the spirit grumbled as it settled around my hips and into the hook. "But I'm curious, why were you so benevolent to Carrie back at the Caern? She only wanted you to be safe," Thymos spoke as I walked out from the park and down the alley it was hidden in. "I wasn't benevolent, whatever that means. I was being realistic... If you have been watching me for as long as you claim you have, then you know exactly why I said that," I murmured to myself. "I understand your tendency for self-sacrifice, but I'm curious as to why? It influences you so much stronger than it would anyone else. What could possibly have triggered you to go to such extreme lengths to protect someone?" he responded to me. "...I won't tell you why. That's something for me to live with," I growled. "Oh... now I understand... I apologize for." I heard him speaking. "Don't say it... It's already unfair that you can just read my thoughts and memories. I don't want pity any more than I want to find this woman," I said as I shut out the spirit from my head. [[The strip mall]]

I had to clear my head as I trudged down the streets I was familiar with one more time. I hadn't thought I'd return to this place under these circumstances. But then again, none of this was normal, so I just had to go with the flow. I watched the sun above me lazily cast down rays of UV onto my exposed skin as I tugged at the jacket over my wrists. I felt the heat pooling over my back as I adjusted the hood on my shoulders. "It feels easier just to keep hidden. It's just better this way. No suspicion and a hidden face," I thought to myself as I strolled the streets. My face was down to the ground, scanning the pavement as I kicked pebbles off to the side of the road. I wasn't very well known when I was here anyway. Maybe some stranger saw the fight with Leon in the alley, but it was the mid-thirties on a cloudy day. Even the homeless population tended to hide in whatever warm locations they could manage to find. I wished that when I came back, I would have gone right back to my tent and gone back to being a face in the crowd, but I couldn't now. I had to keep my head up and my eyes watching things around me as I walked. It was annoying, feeling the need to be present in the world that had made me suffer so much. "Made me suffer... No... I made myself suffer..." I muttered to myself as I shuffled my head back down. "She's dead because of me... This is all still my fault. I can't forget that." I grit my teeth as I looked at my shaking hands. Looking up as I felt a breeze slip into my jacket and tug my head up from the ground, I finally saw the hazy glowing sign for the Green Mill strip mall. My feet trudged over the cement sidewalk and through the crosswalk. Finally, I concealed myself under an awning away from the sun as I pulled my hood down, letting my hair fall down a bit as I did so. "Where to start looking is the first question, I guess," I muttered to myself as I looked around. [[Clothing Store]] [[Music Store]] [[Gun store]]

I hummed to myself as I walked over to what seemed to be a chain clothing store and pushed inside. The inside of the building was aerated by a muggy heating system that pushed out chemically heated air. I could feel the must crawling over my nose as I sneezed up some dust and shook my head clear. It was a little frustrating, but I could manage nonetheless. Turning into the store, I walked around and glazed over some of the aisles of clothing, looking them up and down. A few neon graphic tees or cheap hoodies made from nylon with scratchy insides—nothing worth my while, really. I didn’t know why I was even in here. I guess it was just to kill time, even though I was supposed to be out there looking for the girl. But who cares? I have the rest of the entire day to try and find her. My eyes kept looking over the numerous different options as I stopped at a mirror and looked into it. <<if style == Vagabond">> [[Lonely reflection]] <<elseif $style == "Woodsman">> [[Rugged complection]] <<elseif $style == "Punk">> [[Pained relection]] <<elseif $Victor == "true">> [[Familial reflection]] <</if>>

I yawned to myself as I turned my head and was met with something I hadn't seen in a while—a record store. It was something I used to listen to all the time with my mother. She was always an avid collector of vinyls and would play me her favorite songs whenever she wanted to cheer up me or herself. It was a nice memory that glazed itself through my head as I walked into the store. It smelled of old liquor and hot rubber—an odd smell I wasn’t too hateful of. It was kind of peaceful in its own way. [img[https://secretmiami.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/291996680_1290197378053273_2349927710530736815_n-2-2-1024x742.jpg]] So, I walked into the store to see numerous wooden and metal shelves lined with old and new records from all sorts of different bands, some from the early ’70s to even modern day. "An odd mixture of them, but I guess since it's sorted by alphabetical order, age is less of a factor," I murmured to myself as I walked along the shelves and gently perused all the old objects, my fingers gliding over the combined new and old cardboard covers. I could see anything from classic jazz to retro funk. It was nice, but I was after a specific band in that moment. Finally, after roaming the shelves long enough, I found it—the soft velvet blue shining under the dim LEDs from above my head as I slid open the cover. Pacific Royal's—my father’s favorite band, and one of the few times we all would get along. He would always pick the same record and play it whenever he cooked dinner for us. It was tradition for him. He was always happy whenever the record was playing. I even remember the nights he and Mom would spend together, slow dancing in the living room to their newest album whenever one was released—an old habit the two kept close to their chests. Hell, even for a couple of my younger birthdays, my parents would specifically let me pick out any record that attracted my young eyes the most. I'd always end up picking the ones with shiny or niche covers that had a gimmick. My own favorite was Grippy Nails. Their most niche vinyl had zippers on the cover, and I had fun just pulling them back and forth whenever the record was playing. So in the moment, I decided to pull a slight surprise and scooped up as many of Pacific Royal's albums as I could hold, walked to the counter, and loaded up. Of course, it was tedious having to carry a second bag, but I thought it’d be a nice surprise for later. <<set $record = "true">> [[Gun store]] [[Clothing Store]]

I pushed open the door and looked into the gunpowder-reeking store, just glancing around. My eyes glossed over each and every little attachment as I stepped in and pushed past the door. I heard the sensors beep as I walked into the store and onto the carpeted floor. I could see glass cases with numerous handguns to submachine guns, all lining the white wood shelves. I could see each and every semi-auto to full-auto gun across the shelves as I walked around. [img[https://www.miamigunsinc.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/11/gallery_img1.jpg]] It wasn't a half-bad gun store, even having some nicer-end attachments for different brands from all across the world. I wondered if I could do something about my own gun while I was here. It was a thought I debated over as I reached into my bag and fiddled with the gun resting in there. I walked over to the counter and hoisted up my bag as I watched the woman helping a veteran with an assault rifle at the checkout area. I looked over the different scopes and attachment stocks for rifles and shotguns alike. Seeing such a wide variety of attachments was odd for me. On my first handgun, I only had a barrel shroud and an enhanced grip made from polymer to help keep things stable. Finally, I clicked open my messenger bag and reached in to pull out the gun hidden within. <<set $revolver = True>> <<if $revolver == "True">> [[Hand Cannon]] <<else>> [[Handgun]] <</if>>

The thick polyester grey turtleneck clung tightly to my body, its rough fibers scratching against my skin as I shifted my shoulders beneath the weight of my cotton jacket. It wasn’t an expensive coat—just something I picked up along the way, plain black with worn cuffs and a few stray threads unraveling at the seams. It did its job against the cold, but the sweater underneath was what really trapped in the heat. Too much of it. The heavy fabric clung to the contours of my frame, wrapping around my throat like a noose, and for a second, I felt like I was suffocating. I exhaled sharply, my breath fogging up the mirror in front of me as I tried to ignore the way the turtleneck pressed against my neck. It was too similar. Too much like the ones I used to wear when I had no choice—when covering up wasn’t just about warmth but about hiding the raw, twisted scars that marred my skin. The memories clawed their way back up before I could stop them. The nights curled up in whatever shelter I could find, shivering not just from the cold but from the fevered heat of my own body as burns healed in jagged, ugly patches. The feeling of fabric against scorched flesh, every movement sending fresh jolts of pain through my nerves. My fingers twitched as I reached up, thumb brushing over the raised ridges of old scars hidden beneath the sweater’s high collar. It was easier to forget when I didn’t feel them—when I didn’t have the weight of the past sitting against my skin like a brand. My jaw tightened, and I fought the instinct to rip the damn thing off. Not here. Not now. I forced my hands back down to my sides, curling them into fists as I looked away from my reflection. I turned my attention to the clearance rack beside me, pretending to scan the coats like I gave a damn. The heat pressing against my skin, the phantom sensation of fire licking up my arms—it didn’t matter. I wasn’t that person anymore. I had a goal. I had Gavin. And I wouldn’t let the past keep me shackled in place. I rolled my shoulders, adjusting the collar of my turtleneck as I took a deep breath. Just keep moving. That was all that mattered. [[Cafe]]

The thick grey wool cardigan resting over my shoulder shuffled off to the side a bit as I looked in the mirror and stared it down. The black and grey patterning across the jacket wasn't the most flattering for someone walking in the city. But I doubted anyone really cared what they wore unless it was truly that important to them. The jacket covered me down to my wrists and throat, keeping everything locked up tight. But the heat and sweat slipping down me was a tad annoying. Bottling myself up as I felt heat countering the cold was nice, but sometimes the heat was just too much. From the few hours I had been wearing the jacket, I had to open the front and even take it off on the train. But I promptly put it back on when I noticed a child staring at my burn scars not covered by my tank top. Maybe I should've switched to a long sleeve—still confining, but at least it wasn't as hot and bought me more time. I gently tugged off the edge of my jacket and exposed some of the scarring up along my neck, the rugged and chafed skin of burns blotching itself up and down my body. Thankfully, my face was mostly covered by the long bangs I had draped over the entire side of my face, so it was less pressure. I still didn't enjoy covering myself up a hundred percent, locked down like a cuffed lock. I hated it more than the rage I felt for Leon, but I couldn't bring myself to look myself in the mirror. My clothes started to feel like an iron maiden, digging into me like a parasite wiggling into the flesh of a decaying carcass—the rotting stench of death and misery permeating the air around it. I could feel my heart rate quicken until I ripped the jacket back over my shoulder and focused my gaze on some clearance coats off to the side, not looking in the mirror any longer. I didn't have time for this. I wouldn't make time for it either. I had a goal, and that's all that mattered in the long term. [[Cafe]]

The rigid black leather jacket held itself firmly over my shoulder as I gently brushed some of the excess snow off me. It wasn't the best jacket for the winter, but it was a tad thicker and helped when it really counted, so I suppose that's all that really matters in the end. I was pretty fond of the baggy, ripped jeans though. They held out in the cold besides the massive gaping holes in the knees and shins. Though I was always used to that. I used to patch up any holes that appeared in my clothes with other old clothing and try to keep them whole for as long as I could. It wasn't ever really about comfort, more about surviving the nights when it would drop below 0, hoping and praying that what you had would keep you alive. So I suppose the fact that I was wearing clothes now with holes in them as a fashion statement was a tad odd. But the wear and tear kept them on the softer side, and the bagginess did lend itself to freedom of movement. The cuffed sleeves exposed the pale pinkish scars lining up my arm and wrist. A painful reminder of a past I had to ignore now. I wasn't fond of letting the sleeves roll down past my elbows because it restricted my movement even more, but the obvious cost came from my scars. Thankfully, the burn scars stopped just a few inches below my shoulder, so unless I completely exposed my upper body, it wasn't much of an issue to keep those covered. I reached my hands up and gently slid my fingers under my bangs, tracing over the scratchy and rugged skin. It felt like softer sandpaper. It still wasn't pleasant, but enough time allows me to ignore it more often than not. It was always easier to ignore and keep moving than to actually sit down and confront myself. Plus, with Gavin, I had a real goal to go after now. And that has to take whatever importance in my life existed. Gavin couldn't suffer like me. I knew that much. [[Cafe]]

Snow-covered streets with boot prints lining the salted sidewalk to keep ice from freezing over. I could remember my first night here in Colorado well, it was a painful sight. It had been a few years since I left home at such a young age. I was nowhere close to being ready for the weather that night and the sheer cold of it. I remember my ripple windbreaker and the ice-cold molting on my skin as I desperately tried to find an outdoor heated area or a bathroom to hide in. But I couldn't find anything, I had to shack up in a dumpster for my own sake. Nothing but the bag and ripped clothes on my back. Now looking at myself, it was shocking to see my hair so much cleaner and softer than the greasy, disheveled mess it once was. To think I now had clothing that kept me safe and warm from any cold air slithering past me and up my spine. The red cardigan jacket rested over my shirt as I fiddled with the fur-lined accents. I could even make out the shining golden glint of the embroidery done by Carrie. It was odd to have something so comfortable. I remembered the cold night I spent sobbing in the dumpster as I contemplated my actions just to survive the cold. I wasn't proud of my choices that day. Having to steal food from someone and outpace the cops isn't easy to do as is. But to do it whilst emaciated and lithe from hunger—I'm surprised I could even so much as muster a sprint to run away from the cold. Shaking in the dark and hollow dumpster lined with garbage that I convinced myself would insulate me to some degree. It's nothing like the bed I have back at the Caern. Sure, I have to deal with Casimir and the expectations to find these people, but I'd manage. Hell, I even have Gavin now. I have someone who looks up to me and trusts me, the way I so desperately wanted to shout and cry for help from someone. I was terrified I'd die that night, to think that I forgot about my mother to the point of selfish survival. A painful thorn still buried in my back. But maybe that thorn wasn't too painful anymore, just a little less important. I had Gavin to look after now. I have to make sure he's safe. I have to make sure he doesn't end up like me after all. I think that's a goal worth fighting for. I could at least try and give him a second shot with people who can supplement the loss both he and I know so well. I could at the very least feel the cold metal chains shifting on my throat, A symbol of my current promise to keep. [[Cafe]]

I pushed open the door to the gun shop, the strong scent of gunpowder and oil hitting me as I stepped inside. The soft beep of the entry sensor followed, but the clerk at the counter barely spared me a glance. The place was fairly standard—glass cases displaying handguns, shelves lined with attachments, and the faint hum of an old heater trying to fight off the chill in the air. I walked past the cases, letting my eyes skim over the different modifications available. Suppressors, scopes, extended magazines—all laid out neatly behind locked glass. I had been debating whether or not to upgrade my gun, and considering the way things had been going lately, it seemed like the smart thing to do. After a few moments, I made my way to the counter, shifting my bag off my shoulder. The woman behind the counter, probably in her late 30s, was finishing up a sale with an older guy talking about his rifle’s recoil. I waited, tapping my fingers lightly on the glass until she finally turned to me. "What can I do for ya?" she asked, leaning on the counter with a casual look. I unzipped my bag and pulled out my M1911, keeping my movements slow and deliberate. I popped the magazine out, checked the chamber, and then set it down on the counter. "Looking to get a suppressor and a scope fitted," I said simply. The woman gave the gun a once-over, nodding slightly as she picked it up. "M1911, huh? Solid choice. You keep it in good shape, at least," she muttered, flipping it in her hands and checking the slide. "You wanting a full-sized optic or just a basic red dot?" "Just a red dot," I replied. "Nothing fancy, just something to help line up shots quicker." She nodded, setting the gun down and turning toward the shelves behind her. "Good call. No need for a long-range setup on a sidearm." She grabbed a compact red dot sight and a suppressor, setting them next to my gun. "This suppressor’s standard for a .45 ACP, should work just fine with this model. Won't make it silent, but it'll drop the noise down enough to keep your ears from ringing if you're shooting indoors." "Sounds good to me," I said, watching as she started fitting the attachments. She worked with practiced efficiency, securing the rail mount for the sight before twisting the suppressor onto the threaded barrel. "Alright, that should do it," she said, sliding the gun back over to me. "Give it a test next time you're at the range, make sure everything feels right. Anything else you need?" I shook my head. "Nope, that’s all." She rang me up, and after exchanging cash, I tucked the gun back into my bag. As I turned to leave, she gave me a small nod. "Stay safe out there." "You too," I said, pushing back out into the cold. [[Music Store]] [[Clothing Store]]

I pulled out the hefty revolver and clunked it down on the counter after checking that the cylinder was completely empty and the safety was double-locked in place. I couldn't budge the trigger or move the hammer whatsoever. It was good that guns like this were so heavily modified to lock down so well. It was just so I could feel safe when others were handling the gun—not to mention, with it being so powerful and deadly, I didn't want to risk it. Even unloaded, I was still paranoid. Finally, when the lady finished up and swiveled over to me, her jaw promptly hit the floor when she saw the gun I had set out for her to look over. "How the hell do you have a Coltsmen .600 Magnum? These things are illegal to even possess unless you have years of experience, dozens of permits, and exclusive military certifications!" she said, flabbergasted. "...Family heirloom. Officially, I'm not legally supposed to have it, but my father had the certifications and spent a small fortune on the training alone for the gun. He passed a few weeks ago, and I'm here to get it cleaned and see if I need to check for damages," I quickly lied. Damn, I knew being on the streets made it slightly easier to deal with cops, but how was I this good at lying? "Well... officially, you're supposed to go to the manufacturer for checkups and remodeling on guns like these, but... oh, what the hell, I'll live a little," she said with a playful smile as she picked up the massive revolver. "Well, first and foremost, I don't even need to look it over completely. See this stamp here? It means the gun was made within the last ten years... And it's odd. The barrel has no residue. So either this gun was never touched and left on a shelf, or your father had professional standard cleaning supplies from the manufacturer," she said with a shrug. "The gun itself is in pristine condition and has seen little to no use up until now. The rifling is still untouched and plenty stable—no shredding or scratching from shooting bullets. But that's rarely a concern with these guns. It’s more about the person shooting the gun itself," she said, looking at me hesitantly. "Oh, I haven't shot it... Again, family heirloom. I don’t want to damage it from my stupidity," I said with a quick excuse. She shrugged and opened the cylinder. "Well, you're smart for that. The gun’s undamaged and untouched. No need for repairs or anything like that. Plus, there’s nothing else I can do for it even if there was," she said with a shrug. "If you need ammo, just order it off the website," she quickly explained. "Oh... well, thanks for that," I said, happily picking up the gun again. "You're not gonna report this... right?" I asked, a little worried. "Oh no, it’s more fun to just work on 'em than report 'em," she said as she waved me out of the store. [[Music Store]] [[Clothing Store]]

I shook my head clear as I walked away from the clothing store and turned around to catch a whiff of cheap coffee and old pastries in the air. It wasn't too good, but it was alluring to my snack-hungry stomach. Maybe breakfast alone isn't enough for a Garou? Who knows. So following the soft crunch of the snow beneath my boots, I trailed off and followed the scent. I twisted down a left and right turn to finally have my face collide into a swinging glass door. [img[https://assets.simpleviewinc.com/simpleview/image/fetch/c_limit,q_75,w_1200/https://assets.simpleviewinc.com/simpleview/image/upload/crm/lackawannapa/eden_a_vegan_cafe_interior_020-c55536cc5056a36_c5553789-5056-a36a-07c84775f9bbf0d6.jpg]] "Oh shit?! Look out next time!" I heard a high-pitched voice murmur above me as I opened https://assets.simpleviewinc.com/simpleview/image/fetch/c_limit,q_75,w_1200/https://assets.simpleviewinc.com/simpleview/image/upload/crm/lackawannapa/eden_a_vegan_cafe_interior_020-c55536cc5056a36_c5553789-5056-a36a-07c84775f9bbf0d6.jpgmy eyes, two women quickly bursting past me, embarrassed from it all. "....Rude..." I muttered to myself as I rubbed off the blood from my nose. It wasn't a horrible nosebleed by any means, but it was inconvenient to me in the moment. So I gritted my teeth and simply pulled open the door, getting wafted in the face with the smell of almond milk and burnt coffee. "Vegan Macchiato with double sweetness for Jordan!" a barista shouted out as I was surprised to see a whole line of people standing in front of me. And even more of a pool of impatient customers waiting off to the side, looking annoyed. More shouting and more disgruntled people leaving with coffee in hand, I finally was in deep enough to look at the menu and signs. Tons of advertisements for vegan-friendly dairy drinks and substitutions for different people. The common works, but it seemed that this place exclusively focused on the allergens and lactose issues people faced. How inclusive. It took a few minutes for me to finally get deep enough into the line to see a panicked teenage boy frantically taking order after order on a rinky-dink tablet. All while the seemingly never-ending line behind me didn't shrink whatsoever. I could tell the kid was on the verge of falling to pieces as the blonde-haired bowl-cut woman with brunette sunglasses made more and more demands of him. "And that better be gluten-free and dairy-free!" she yowled like a dying horse. "Miss, I already told you, coffee doesn't have glut-" he tried to respond before the woman shrieked like a banshee at him. <<if $moon == "Ahroun">> [[Pimpin]] <<elseif $moon == "Philodox">> [[Dealings]] <<elseif $moon == "Ragabash">> [[Socialize]] <</if>>

People like this always just wanted to argue and fight with someone about something menial because it gave their sad, pathetic excuse of an existence some sort of purpose. So, slipping out of line, I decided that I hadn't dealt with enough shit these last few weeks and needed to cross off one more petty side hustle off my shit list. "You know... I always heard that almond milk has the same cancerous chemical as diet soda does in it," I cooed to myself within earshot as I could see her throat halt her verbal onslaught. "And you know, I don’t want it with almond milk! I've always wanted soy instead!" she howled after a second. "Miss, if you don’t mind me asking, it's clear you know what to order? I'm new to this place, and I'm terrified I'm gonna order the wrong thing. Could you give me a recommendation?" I finally pulled myself directly into the spotlight. "...Oh... Well, if these buffoons can get it right for you... Usually, I get a dairy-free latte with a pump of substitute sweetener. Always get the Minero brand, not Allamack—the flavor is night and day!" she instructed me like a drill sergeant. "Oh, well... I mean, can you guys do that?" I said as I feigned innocent ignorance and looked at the cashier boy on the verge of tears. He could almost instantly read my actions and affirmed me. "Yes, we can! We pride ourselves on all of our alternatives and additives for dietary restrictions!" he piped up with corporate jargon. "Well then, since you, Madam, gave me the recommendation, I'm only so inclined to pay yours and mine~" I said with a fake seductive tone. Instantly, the woman took happy and boastful pride. "...Well, if you insist," she purred as she nodded and walked to the bathroom. I could physically see the tension leave the boy’s shoulders like a snake was at his throat. "Thank you... I was about to have an asthma attack if she kept going..." the boy whimpered, embarrassed. "Relax, I get it. Here, an extra 10 for the troubles. And no rush. But maybe expedite the lady’s order... The sooner she’s out of here, the better for you and everyone else~" I gave a sarcastic shrug to him, getting a happy smile outta the boy. "You handled that pretty well. I'm almost impressed, Garou." [[introductions]]

I inhaled and exhaled, annoyed, as I attempted to ignore the she-beast's screams and demands of sheer horror. But as I locked eyes with the panicking young man on the verge of tears, I finally snapped. I could feel the rage of every cashier and customer service worker pulsate in my bloodstream as I quietly slipped out from the line. My feet traced the ground as I walked up behind her like an oncoming storm. "YOU USELESS PATHETIC SHRIMP DI— CRACK!!!" She continued to holler until the loud crack of my hand met with the front of her face. The woman physically stumbled back and dropped onto her fat ass as she looked up at me, horrified. "Who do you think you are?! Don't you know who I am?!" she screamed, horrified, as she attempted to record me with her phone. But another quick kick to her wrist and deadlifting her off the ground by her collared shirt shut her up real quickly. "Now that you're calm and listening, here's what is going to happen. I'm going to put you down. You're going to turn around and walk away, because if you don't, you're going to have a very distinct flashback of the very first time your shrimp-dick excuse of a husband spanked you in the bedroom because your overinflated ego needs an alpha. But in reality, you're just a pathetic obese pig with an attitude issue and daddy issues. So go ahead. Give me a reason to go back to prison... I. Dare. You." I say as I glare her down with a sadistic glint in my eye. She blubbered and yowled for a second, but when we made eye contact, it didn't take a wolf to smell the defamation of urine in her pants. "You... You. You horrid." She blubbered and contorted in on herself as she pleaded and begged me with her eyes. "...No? Okay then... If you really wanna play that way... Oink, piggy~" The second her feet were on the ground, she hauled ass like a rubber hose cartoon character. "You handled that pretty well. I'm almost impressed, Garou." [[introductions]]

I rolled my eyes as she kept hooting and howling at the top of her lungs. She was starting to annoy me with how loud she was being in the moment. But then my eyes snagged the gleam of her phone in her back pocket, almost about to slip out from her purse. "What's wrong with a little devil’s advocate..." I shrugged to myself as I quickly slipped out of line in the crowd and walked out from the line. Little did the woman or anyone else see, my fingers had managed to snatch up her phone from her purse. Days of pocket thieving did pay off, after all. I couldn't believe I had to fall into old habits just to get a single order of coffee, but I suppose if I'm playing the lesser of two evils, I wasn't too hard-headed about it. It wasn't hard to find another gruff and annoyed male customer shit-talking the café, grabbing his bag and readying to leave. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to just let something— SLIP. And with the loose grip in my palm, I easily dropped the neon pink phone case into the man's backpack. And finally, once the lady continued her rampage and attempted to snatch up her phone from her purse, to my delight, I watched as the color drained from her face. I could see the fury in her eyes as she caught the neon pink blur exiting the door with the annoyed man. "Have fun~" I snickered in my head as the woman shrieked like a banshee, flipping her smocks into sports mode. She took off like a bat outta hell, bum-rushing after the man with no hesitation as she shouted numerous profanities and slurs in his direction while she ran after him. I couldn't help but snort to myself as both Karen and Jim were about to have one hell of an interaction. "You handled that pretty well. I'm almost impressed, Garou." [[introductions]]

"Name’s Lyra Dawson. It’s a relief to have that banshee of a human out of my café. Usually, women like her only frequent us in the mornings, but the church rushes on Wednesdays and Sundays always bring the annoying ones to our doorstep," she said with an annoyed shrug. [img[https://live.staticflickr.com/27/51872212_1e9a2c6259_b.jpg]] She spoke to me all while her shining auburn hair cascaded down her shoulders in untamed waves, and her sharp green eyes seemed to pierce through my soul like the bullet of a gun. Her arms were covered in numerous claw-like scars over deep chocolate brown skin. She had her hair pulled back in tight braids in a high ponytail swinging out the back. "We don't get Garou customers often, but when we do, I usually sink my teeth into 'em first~ So, what can I get for ya, hotshot~?" she growled teasingly. "Uh... Woah... Awfully flirty right off the bat?" I said. "Eh, what can I say? I'm a social flirt. I mean nothing by it, of course, stranger, but it's just a nice way to make people feel flattered. And when people are flattered, they spend more money in my café~" she said with a playful wink. "So... it’s a business tactic?" I said, confused, as she just burst out laughing to herself. "Relax, your majesty! It’s all a prank, a ruse, you know, a fib. Sure, sometimes I do it for business, but it’s also just who I am," she said with a happy smile. "Oh... Oh, okay, that makes a lot more sense... So, uh... how long have you been doing... all of this?" I said, pointing out of the back office and into the café outside us. "I’ve been doing it since I was a teenager. It was my first job after I left the commune and took up human living full-time," she said with a shrug. "Woah, woah, woah—commune?" I flicked back, confused. "No, not like a cult. A commune for me is a group of all-natural people who live like the stereotypical '90s and '80s hippies. You know, peace, love, and titties~" she teased. "Oh... So you grew up in, like, a... caravan?" I said, trying to think of something. "Nah, a trailer park. Except said trailer park was abandoned by humans and turned into an entire ass eco-friendly community run by families and my Garou family," she followed up. "It’s really just a green urban homestead. Nothing complicated—it’s what I grew up in as a Child of Gaia," she said. "...Child of Gaia? As in the pack type?" I said, slightly confused. "Oh, you're new to all this. Yeah, I was born to a Child of Gaia mother and a Kinfolk father. I was basically born to a hippie mother who was obsessed with the outdoors and harmony with nature," she said. [[Backstories]]

"....So to recap this... You need me to actually join up with a pack to help reclaim Green Mill and Lake View, respectively, from a mysterious threat? I mean, it's cliché as hell for Garou, but what else should I expect?" she said. "But anyways, yeah, I'm happy to help out~," she said, causing my jaw to hit the floor. I was expecting a fight, a deal, a desperate shouting plea. But nope, she just broke me outright and beat me to the punch. "Just a few things I'll need to pack up, and obviously, you'll need to explain this to my mother so she knows as well, but otherwise, I am good to help out," she said with a happy thumbs-up. "Woah, woah... What about your job, your life, your coworkers?" I said, confused. "Eh, they knew I was on the way out of here anyways. Besides, if I'm moving into a Caern rent-free, my freelancing is plenty to afford everything else," she retorted. "Oh, okay. Well, that makes sense. But how long will it take you to unpack your apartment?" I said, confused. "I don't have an apartment. I live in a cabin back at the caravan with my family. It's not as far as you think it'd be," she explained. "Once we get the basics cleaned up and packed, we'll just get it to my new place, and I'll be all set to help out," she said with a chirp. "Okay, that's nothing. I can help with all that. Hell, I can call one of the pack. They have a van we can use to drive it if we need to," I said. "Nope, sorry. Unless you feel like making a mile-long hike to and from a van, no cars," she said. "My group has a strict no-gasoline rule. Hell, for my entire life, all the fuel we use for electricity comes from makeshift solar rigs and kinetic power bikes," she said with a shrug. "Modern life commodities are still kinda odd to me, but I'm adjusted." "Oh... Well, I'm sure we can figure out... something?" I said, digging into the back of my brain and attempting to storm something up. [[post shift]]

[img[https://media.istockphoto.com/id/174632088/photo/new-stores.jpg?s=612x612&w=0&k=20&c=goFFdGsGLIhpHVMpf3Zp7W5CiwuFTycIch9MwqQIfpE=]] "Wagons?" I suggested. "Probably your best bet, yeah. But again, the hike," she retorted. "Damn, this is inconvenient as all hell to try and solve," I said, confused. "Eh, best to handle it when the time comes. In the meantime, my shift is up. Why don't you tag along with me to the light rail? We can keep trying to figure out the next few steps on the walk there," she said as I nodded and followed along. "So, River, tell me a bit about yourself. I'm curious about that hell of a tale you spun back at me," she teased as we left the café. "Well, I mean, you know what I've told you. Leon and Gavin, the pack and Caern. All that," I said. "No, no, I mean the stuff you didn't say. Like what you like to do, or where you're from." "Oh hell... Well, I don't like to talk about myself much, but since you asked—I'm in my twenties. I was born to human parents, I think, and I was born in Las Dominas, California. I think that's about it?" I said. "Really? What about your family? Or why you moved here?" I went stiff as she poked at it. We stopped walking for a second as she saw the look on my face. "Ah, touchy. Got it, I won't poke you about it then." "No, it's... I can't talk about my family, but... but I didn't move out here so much as I relocated here from Oregon because I was homeless. I kinda wandered different states for a while until I just settled here in Green Mill and Lakeview. The two were kinda just home for me after a while, but originally, I was living in Green Mill full-time. I won't say why exactly I'm homeless, but... just know that the reasons are, like you said, touchy," I explained as she listened to me. "I only moved to the Caern temporarily. I don't know if I can stay there full-time yet, but for Gavin's sake, I'm trying my best. You making it easy on me is certainly a boon in the matter," I said with a half-smile. "Well, I'm glad my convenience is helpful. Besides, my mother always said she awaited the day I joined a pack. It only took 24 years and my mom going through 29 hours of painful-ass labor for it to happen~," she said as she punched me on the shoulder. [[Walking]]

"So, what was it like growing up with a Garou mother?" I asked curiously. "Well, my mom wasn't the best person. She could be dismissive, but it wasn't her fault. Half the time, she had her head so buried in the Umbra that it was impossible to actually get her to listen to anything. It was always her job to commune with the spirits, and she was so intertwined with it that she couldn't understand the human world all too well after constant exposure," she said with a shrug. "We never fought or anything, and she was there when I needed her or genuinely wanted to be around her, but it's the small things that add up the most, you know?" She winced. "But my dad is amazing. He's the entire reason I'm here in Green Mill and the entire reason I'm helping to run a protest league here. He's helped inspire me to do so much—I owe him my life," she said with a beaming smile. "What about you? Do you know which of your parents was Garou?" she asked, catching me off guard. That's when it sank in—one of my parents was Garou, and I never knew. I was like this because one of my parents was a werewolf. I stopped in my tracks, contemplating. "Oh, they never told you? Makes sense. Sometimes the Garou don't want to get their kids involved and just try to keep them safe from the dangers of the Garou world," she said with a chirp. Was it my mother? My mother was a kind, compassionate woman with tons of passion—I could see her being a fierce fighter and warrior. But the same went for my dad. Both of them had their strengths and weaknesses in this limelight. I couldn't tell from memory alone. I'm sure if things were different and this still happened, maybe they would've told me who was what. "Wait... could both of my parents be Garou?" I asked curiously. "Nah, not unless you're hiding some sort of massive physical disability. If they were, you'd be a Metis, and that would be obvious by some sort of deformity. And if you were born a wolf, you wouldn't be so well-adjusted to humans. So you're definitely a Homid. The things I just described are the birth forms of Garou," she clarified at my confused expression. [[Light rail]]

If you belong to the Bone Gnawers, you’re the kind of person who survives where others fail. Cast aside by society, you thrive in the underbelly of the urban jungle, finding strength in the scraps others leave behind. Your tribe values adaptability, resourcefulness, and a deep connection to the downtrodden. To you, honor isn’t found in pomp or ceremony—it’s in the fight to protect those who have nothing. The streets are your domain, and your kin trust you to rise above hardship, no matter how bleak. [img[https://i.pinimg.com/736x/c9/07/3c/c9073c56d4ceb9fa776b97c32be6f438.jpg]] [[Waking World]] <<set $tribe to "Bone Gnawer">>

As we reached the light rail station she stopped at the stairs and looked at her phone. "Still got a few minutes before the trains arrives. Oh speaking of which gimme your phone." She said holding out her hand expectantly. To which I pulled out my phone and handed it to her, She quickly fidgeted with it for a second before handing it back to me. "There you have my phone number now. So I'll text you once I have everything packed and I'm ready to go so you can explain to my mom and dad. But of course once all that happens I'll need one last favor from you when the time comes. But don't worry I think you'll like it." She said with a koi smile. "... Should I be worried by that look?" worrying to myself outloud. "Oh not at all munchkin~ trust me, it's a fairly interesting activity if you've never done it before. But sense I'll be with you 100% of the way you have nothing to worry about. I can gaurentee I'll have my eye on you when it happens." She gave me a thumbs up with her little speech. "Well I guess its only fair. If its what I have to do I can manage no matter what happens." I say thinking of Gavin. "...So long as I'm not risking my life... Right?" I say fearfully. "Eh... Maybe a bruise and quick arrest but nothing more." She said causing the hair on the back of my neck to raise. "But sense I'm there, you won't need to wolf out to keep outta police clutches." She reassured me. "The more you talk about this, the more worried I become about this whole event." I said embarrased. "Look its not till after you help me move and even then it's not till the day after." She explained forcing the change of subject. Eventually her train did arrive, And with that she turned to leave and I waved her off. At least thats one gaurenteed recruit. <<set Lyra += 1>> [[Back to the Caern]]

NEXT UPDATE BIAAATTTCH!!!