It was sunset of the Full Sprouting Grass Moon; the appointed time of the sept moot. The place was Moshup’s Footprint, also known as the Devil’s Hopyard. This moot was unusual. Welcoming a new pup as a full member of the sept was rare. That five of them, enough to comprise a new pack, were becoming Cliath at the same time defied odds. What would a new pack do to the balance of the three existing packs?

Upon entering the park the first thing seen was an abandoned picnic area. It was empty as the park was supposed to be closed. Just past that was an asphalt parking lot. There were a half dozen motor cycles and twice as many people standing around. A tall blonde woman with tattoos of concentric triangles on her arms wore jeans and a leather vest accompanied with heavy boots. She strapped metal canisters to the back of two children before putting a larger one on her own back. Two bearded men in similar vests directed others, mostly women in similar attire, on what to carry. At the last motor cycle a young woman dressed in jeans, a UCONN sweatshirt, and baseball cap bounce up and down on spring seat while watching an older man. The man for his part was showing her how to load a shotgun. His long grey beard reached half way down his chest. Around his eyes he was weathered and wrinkled. His white button down shirt contrast with his tanned skin. It also showed a lean muscular frame. He wore slacks with feathers on chains and covered in pink runic markings. The young woman pretended to watch while she bounced, the short wavy black hair that stuck out of her cap flopping with her movement. The group spoke to each other in a variety of languages code switching in and out of English.

Beyond them was a gravel road with a covered bridge and a waterfall in the distance.

Breanna hops out of the Uber, thanking the driver and tapping the app to give him a 5-star rating. Then she turns and begins to jog up the drive toward the parking lot, the grit on the asphalt surface crunching audibly under her Docs. The blue bandana she's tied around her hair is only a couple of shades darker than the cropped denim jacket she's wearing over one of her merch tees. The thrifted canvas backpack she carries had been slung over one shoulder when she stepped out of the Uber, but she slips her arm through the other strap to stop the bag from bouncing as she runs. Her ensemble is rounded out by a pair of cutoff cargo pants worn over bright purple leggings. Breanna tucks her phone back into one of the cargo pockets as she approaches the group gathered around the motorcycles, and plasters on her best meeting-new-people smile.

Copper eyes watch from the darkness as a car pulls up and deposits someone new. The eyes wink out in the darkness, reappearing further up the road a moment later. Rainfall resists snorting at the acrid, sooty smell it leaves behind. She's used to it. In some ways, it's more normal to her than the myriad natural scents that close back in when it rumbles out of sight, red tail lights glaring like emergency exit signs.

Rainfall had been given leave to wander the area, scouting the visitors to the moot, of which the new arrival certainly was one. She had that aura about her. Garou. The vehicles were the real draw, though, the noisy motorcycles and the quieter cars - source of the hum that had been a constant in the back of her head since birth. That humans made the noise had been a given, but that the noise was caused by swift machines was new and fascinating. Still, one had to be hospitable. She had to make a good impression on behalf of Touches-the-Stars. If the new arrival is meeting the visitors, she should too.

A gray wolf, more silver than slate in the moonlight as she breaks cover, trots out at an angle to Breanna, coming toward the group around the motorcycles with a soft whine to announce herself, tail and ears low, tailtip wagging in an ingratiating, puppy gesture. Though on two legs now, these are all wolves, and much older and stronger, and revered guests. Rainfall isn't sure what she is in all this yet, not since the moonbridge landed her here some weeks ago, well outside The City.

The man in the button down shirt handed over the shotgun to the young woman. His clothes were well kept if marked with ritual symbols. His weathered skin formed crows feet around his piercing eyes. His white beard was thick and sleek like a pelt. It ran the length of his belly. The spicy wood scent of cumin with the tang of sumac wafted from him. His head tilted as he sniffed at the wind.

The blonde woman smelled of a heady combination of bitter anise, sweet nutty malt, and the astringent bittersweet warmth of cloves. Her sleeveless vest smelled of real leather and matched the design of the others. It showed off her biceps and their tattoos of concentric triangles. Her jeans and boots were both well worn. A light sniff to the air caused her to call out, ”Perineum Walker on our six.” With that she shrugged the canister on her back into a better position and started to lead the children up the gravel road.

The others, except the first, looked around to see to whom she referred. Some snorted at her, a smaller few waved or nodded, and one, the bubbly young woman still on the motorcycle, proudly held up an iphone. She smiled happily and tried to balance the phone while holding the shotgun.

The older man stilled with concentration. ”She is not the only one,” he said. At once his torso seemed to elongate while he shrank in height. His shoulders narrowed and shifted forward and his legs shifted to digitigrade proportions. The clothing was pulled at first then blended in and finally was absorbed within his new pelt. After the transformation finished he was sleek with a small hindquarters. His chest was less the common barrel and more pointed with the sternum. His lower coat was a gold reminiscent of harvest wheat. Upon his back was a dusty saddle patch. Gone was his beard, instead his chest was covered in a patch of white. Again he sniffed the air and turned towards Rainfall.

Like the rest of his form his muzzle was long and slender. With his elongated ears he had something of a fox quality to his head. The eyes, the eyes were different. They were a piercing vibrant orange. He loped towards Rainfall. As he approached the tail and head posture signaled a welcome. He produced a sharp series of whines in the language of the wolves completing a warm welcome. His tone was sharp like that of birds trying to mimic a wolf, devoid of reverb. ”Welcome, little one. I was told to expect you, such journey and much courage.” He flicked his head toward the other and asked, ”Is this your friend?”

Natalie parked in the lot, empty but for several motorcycles. She took a deep breath to center herself, hands still on 10 and 2 of the steering wheel.

“Relax, it’s just new people. They might know your new secret, and sure, they might be biker werewolves–because of course that’s a thing–but it’ll be fine.”

She stepped out of the car, squinting in the sunset as she approached the group. She walked up with open body language to the tall blonde biker who smelled of anise and leather–why could she smell her?–and asked,

“Hi, are you here for the…” she paused, only wanting to convey secret werewolf gathering to another werewolf and not a random biker “Meeting?”

The blonde woman tried to step close and sniff Natalie’s neck. She grinned wider than seemed friendly and licked her teeth from canine to canine. ”Oh of course,” she chuckled. Her body shook with the strength of it. ”I’m Liz and I’m an  alcoholic,” she joked darkly as she tapped on the keg on her back. She took a deep whiff in and let out a throaty laugh. She called back over her shoulder to others, ”Dibs on dessert!”

”Now don’t you worry yourself none darling.” A drawl crept into her voice. “We’ll set you up right nice. We don’t bite… much. You just come this way and get introduced to the Hammer and then all the others. So, what’s your name? I really am Liz but friends call me Stain.” She stared directly into Natalie’s eyes as she spoke.

Still a little surprised at understanding speech directed to her, Rainfall watches a bit dumbfounded as the older garou shifts to speak with her, wagging her tail a bit harder for a moment before it stills again. Strange of him to talk of courage when it felt like pure cowardice. "The moon bridge was a new experience," she hedges instead. Likely the less said the better. "I'm Rainfall. Happy to know you, elder. Don't know the other pups yet, we haven't met. Hope to soon, if we are to be pack."

She glances around at the other two-legged garou, the female she'd followed from the road in particular, before swiveling to watch Natalie approach. They both seemed nervous. Pups too? Her nose works, lightly testing the air. The first one smells strongly of The City. The second is harder to get a read on. She yips softly and moves a bit further out of the shadows into moonlight, curiosity getting the better of her. She supposes she *could* shift homid... but why would she want to if it isn't necessary.

Breanna manages to stifle an eye-roll at the mouthy blonde; she wouldn't have gotten very far in her career if she hadn't long since learned to ignore people being shitty in the comments. Thus resolved not to feed the trolls, she returns the few friendly waves she's offered and heads toward the young woman seated on the motorcycle with the shotgun balanced across her lap. As she approaches, part of her attention tracks the older gentleman as he shapeshifts and moves to greet the other wolf emerging from the brush line. It's still a little odd to be able to understand their conversation of yips, whines, and ear-twitches, but she makes a polite effort not to eavesdrop and focuses on the friendly young woman.

"It's lovely to meet you. I'm not sure which names we're using here, but you're welcome to call me Breanna. I guess it's pretty obvious that I'm new to all this, but I'm eager to learn more and to find out how I can help. Are we waiting for many more folks?"

The other wolf made the very human gesture of smiling and yipped. ”Elder? I guess I am, by age at least. I am Running-Justice. Welcome to our home. With the three of you I think we may have everyone if Watchtower does their task. There are two of your possible pack mates right here.” He indicated the others by tossing his head.

He circled Rainfall with a limp in his step. He sniffed at the air and scratched the dirt. He put one of his large ears to the ground. Lifting his head he continued, ”There is one over by Leaf and another by Stain. The others of my pack are gathering at the waterfall. You will meet the rest of the sept at the moot.”

The young woman on the motorcycle listened and nodded. She bent her knees and went with the fall into the bounce. Rebounding, she straightened her legs out.  She kicked her right leg around and did a spin. Her slight frame stood gracefully. Smoothly in one motion she slung the shotgun over her back. She gave a lopsided grin.

She extended a hand for shaking. ”Hi, I’m Luce, Lucy, Lucibelle, Belle, Belly, Bellyflop, but the gang just calls me Leaf. Welcome, it is always nice to see new people. It is a blessing, we desperately need more. Don’t let my friends scare you, we have to be tough to survive. I think Watchtower should be here by now but they don’t come by vehicle which is fair.” With a relaxed flick of her wrist she indicated the others that had arrived. “And some of the other pups are here. If you want you can head to the waterfall with us. We like to pre-game a little before everything starts. ‘Family’ stays back and has a good night when we head up the trail.”

Breanna grins, giving the offered hand a firm, friendly shake. "Don't worry, I don't scare easily. There's always gonna be somebody with an opinion, and that's not my problem. I am looking forward to meeting the other newbies, though!" She nods as Lucy -- or Leaf? -- finishes her explanation. "I'm happy to join you. Lead the way!" Picking up on Leaf's energy, Breanna finds herself bouncing on her toes a little as she steals glances at the other two new arrivals, wolf and woman.

"Happy to meet you, Elder Running-Justice," Rainfall says with a nod of her head, ears tipping back and tail giving a gentle wag. From the way her forepaws dance, it's clear she's excited and a little nervous as she looks in the directions he indicates, noting the two other new arrivals, the one that smells of City and the one that had her own vehicle. Intriguing things, these metal contraptions that belched smoke and moved so fast... But that was for later. Touches-the-Stars had even said she might someday learn to control one! Focus... "I'm eager to meet the others," she says to Running-Justice, "but if we are expected soon, I can meet them later?" She takes a step toward Breanna and Natalie, waiting for Running-Justice.

“Wow, you’re super intense!” Natalie exclaims, trying not to startle too obviously. “But nice to meet you, Stain. I’m Natalie.”
She glances around at the group of people exiting the parking lot, trying to take everything in at once. “So, how does this all work? Where are we going? And should I expect to be sniffed?”

Stain grinned and gestured up the trail as she turned. To Natalie she said, ”Come, we are going to the waterfall to set up the family before we head in. Our pack is in charge of security during the rites. Once at the caern the high theurge will open the ceremony and call the directions. There will be some partying then we get down to the main event of the moon. Don’t you worry non, we have a really special surprise for you pup.” She turned back to Natalie and gave another predatory grin. ”After that there is recognition of deeds to those that deserve it, then we all empower the caern.”

Not far up the trail was the waterfall and a number of tables. Half the group set up a picnic consisting of steaks and porcelain jugs as well as the two pony kegs. They settled into comfortable positions and started chatting at each other in several languages.

Running-Justice padded in with Rainfall. He walked around the table as demonstration and yipped an explanation, “This is where our family will wait and patrol from. They all have the wolf in their heart but we never know in whom the wolf will wake. We have hopes one may wake from these three younglings. Once you three are gathered we can do introductions and then head to the caern for the moot itself.”

Leaf jogged over to the table, almost dropping the shotgun twice. She carefully placed it in front of a boy who could have been no older than six. She turned to Breanna and patted the table. ”So here we are, ‘the kids table’. I was here not long ago myself then I had my first change.” She looked at the new members of the sept and asked, ”Who wants to start the introductions?”
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:31, Tue 15 Aug 2023.

The pale gray wolf waits to see if anyone else wishes to speak first, but when silence falls, and stays, she dips her head, tail wagging faintly, and tries to sound braver than she feels. ~My name is Rainfall. I'm from The City, but I was sent here on something called a Moon Bridge after I Changed a moon or so back. I was born this shape, and since I came here, I have been honored by Touches-The-Stars who is helping me understand things. I am happy to meet everyone.~ She pricks her ears in Breanna and Natalie's directions alternately, wondering about the two homids.

Hopping up to sit on the edge of the picnic table (on the table itself, not the bench), Breanna offers a warm but closed-mouth smile, out of deference to the canine instincts of the four-footed folks in the group -- imagining that a show of teeth is not quite the first impression she's aiming for.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Rainfall. I'm Breanna. It's been a couple of months -- moons, I suppose -- since I Changed, but I'm still getting used to all this and finding my bearings. Maybe we can all help one another adjust.

"And how about you?" she asks the other newcomer brightly, as Natalie approaches the picnic area. "Do you find all of this half as baffling as I do?"

"Hi Breanna, I’m Natalie. I’m also still kinda waiting for things to make sense.” She shrugs, her expression open and a little self-deprecating. “Then again, it’s only been a couple moons for me, too."

A man in his thirties with deep set eyes and a trimmed beard turned to the newcomers. He wore the vest and jeans like the others but he had an air of regality that permeated his presence. He had something of a natural born leader in him. “Listen up pups, I say this once. The second time I’ll just write it, with silver, on your back. I am Hunts-his-Doom, the Zadakh of this pack. We work fast and we work deadly, we need to.”

”The blonde woman over there that could snap you in half is Sings-the-Stained-Earth. She is our talker and my Uldakh.” The woman in question was a muscular Nordic looking woman with an undercut and tattoos.

”Next to her is our soul, Sights-with-Lightning. He knows more about the shadows and dreams than many. He has used lightning to destroy Unrealistic Body Standards with an old RPG-26 Vampir.” He had similar features to the leader but his eyes were larger and more open and his beard was a longer curled mass, looking for his part like an orthodox priest. He had a canvas bundle slung over his shoulder. Whatever was inside it smelled angry and wanted to cause pain.

The alpha nodded to the old wolf. He was lean for a wolf but made up for it with his ears. Before he had had a long beard and pants marked with ritual runes.  ”Running-Justice is our arbiter and helps us keep with the traditions. He is often our contact with other packs.”

Hunts-his-Doom cast his eyes to the young woman who had not stopped bouncing and fidgeting. She looked like a dark hair generic college student. “And that is Hides-the-Last-Leaf, our Taldakh. She is new as well, only having become Cliath last moon.” He let the silence linger for a moment.

Sings-the-Stained-Earth addressed the others with a smile. “Don’t you go letting him scare you. We are only mostly violent. Those are our formal names, you can just call us Doom, Stain,  Lightning, Justice, and Leaf.”

She clasped her hands and rubbed them together. ”Let’s get going, we still have to get to the Kitchen.” With that the pack said their good byes to the kinfolk and made sure they were suitably armed and armored. Departing, the pack went off a dirt trail that broke to the left over a bridge that spanned the river. The trail went up and then curled around a rock face.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:24, Fri 25 Aug 2023.

Breanna slips down off the picnic table and shoulders her bag, following the others as they climb the trail. She tries to strike a balance between allowing the established pack to lead the way, and demonstrating that she isn't the sort to lag behind or slow the group down. As they hike, she also keeps an eye on Rainfall and Natalie, offering encouraging smiles as needed.

With whatever fragments of her concentration remain, Breanna tries to open her senses up to the forest around her, taking in whatever information her newly-discovered Garou nature is able to impart. That's how she's trying to process the introductions as well: simply absorbing and collating information, and suspending judgment until later. Except, of course, for Leaf -- she's already growing fond of the young werewolf, and hopes to get a chance to speak with her more later. But for now, Breanna is more concerned with not tripping over a root and making an ass of herself.

The lupus' ears dip at Doom's introduction, tailtip flicking in a hesitant wag while intimidating introductions are made, glancing to each of the named garou in turn before her attention shifts back to Breanna and Natalie, unashamedly curious about the two here who are to be part of her new pack.

Pack... Rainfall stifles a whine in her throat before it can be heard, new and uncomfortable emotions surging up before she can fully chase them back down. Not now. It was so much easier before, just to live in the present. Stay here. It is time, after all, to find out what a moot is.