Emerging through the low tunnel into the semi-subterranean building, only the anosmic would miss the intense odour of cedar that permeates this low, warm place. The square qasgiq spreads out thirty feet wide in both dimensions, while the log roof is low, being only ten feet tall at its pinnacle. The walls are made from hand-split cedar planks, chinked with daub, and are lined with benches. The floor is better timber, each piece having been shaved to fit with its neighbour. In the centre, a rectangular fire pit goes deeper into the ground. The pit is made of tightly laid stone masonry, and can be covered with heavy planks when it's not used.
Here, near the middle of the building, there are often a variety of fat-oil lamps burning, for both light and warmth. The smoke escapes through a small hole in the roof, which can be covered in the worst weather. Many other things hang from the roof, held up by pegs: herbs, food, inflated animal bladders, and in the winter, drying laundry. The only ways out of the main room are through the barely-five-foot tall tunnel leading in, and through a narrow oval hole in the east wall. It leads to a ten foot square room, with an unfinished floor. There's a wide bench on one wall, but the side room is otherwise spartan.
Compact is the word for him: wiry, maybe 5'6" in his beat-up black combat boots, with a sense of compressed energy and imminence like a coiled spring -- or a cocked gun. Never quite still for long, balance flowing through the balls of his feet. There's a striking intensity to his narrow blue-green eyes, the colour contrasting with his fair skin and spiky copper hair; just below the left is what at first appears to be a faint mole, but closer inspection reveals as a small, long-healed scar. His features are appealing, with high cheekbones and a good jawline, but it's the confident mien and roguish smile that most often seem to draw people in.
He's in a well-worn biker jacket of the traditional sort, all fairly closely fit black leather and silvery zippers and snaps. Beneath it, he's got old black jeans with a rip in one knee and the cuffs half walked off and a faded plain black t-shirt which fits rather snugly, in a flattering sort of way. There's a couple leather-and-bead bracelets on one wrist and a length of ball-chain disappearing beneath his collar; his nails were apparently painted black some time ago, since they're starting to show chips. Late teens, most likely, and when he speaks it's in a mellifluous, southern-accented baritone voice.
A thick braid of silky-black hair falls down this teenager's back, tied off near her waist with a strip of leather. Several strands have been left free to frame her round, rosy cheeked face, tangled up with small beads and feathers. Her face is round like that of a full moon, eyes an alert shade of deep brown set beneath thick, slightly arched eyebrows with her nose flat at the bridge.
Her youthful features have already been marred by a countless number of scars, one thick one in particular that wends its way over her flat nose and down her left cheek, ending under her jaw. Numerous pink scars pucker most of the left side of her face and neck leaving her cheek, nose, chin and the area around her left eye disfigured. (app:1)
She stands around 5'2" (157 cm); her frame is stout and composed of feminine curves and sinewy muscle. Dressed for comfort, she wears a free flowing short-sleeve pullover shirt made of coarse breathable linen. Her durable trousers are tucked into dark brown, knee-length leather boots.
Shaggy brown hair and darker brown eyes frames this young boy's face. Justin has a slightly tanned complexion with a hint of Puerto Rican from his mother's side, Caucasian from his father's. He has a fairly lanky build that could use a bit of bulking upas he is built like a high school track runner. He wears loose fitted 'destroyed' blue jeans, simple tank tops, and worn down sneakers that are about five months in need of replacement, and during the cold, a thick green military jacket from his Grandpa. He looks like your average, ordinary American young teen that plays outside and is fairly active. Tall at five foot ten, he is a few inches higher than most his age for now.
It can take a minute to properly identify just what this canine is. To those in the know, though, his species isn't quite so vague. As a coywolf, Watcher physically resembles his coyote heritage more than his wolf as a whole. He's smaller and leaner than a wolf, with the longer ears and lighter build one would expect to see on a coyote. He's got a thick coat, though, and it lends him a bit of false bulk that usually makes him just look a bit shabby. His paws are also larger, ending with curving claws. His muzzle is a bit broader though not so heavy as a wolf but contains the same array of sharp teeth. Overall, he's a tawny grey-ticked coloration with a darker saddle. His undersides are lighter and he has yellow eyes.
This hall is lit with very dim light- the light coming mainly from a few banked fires and fat-oil lamps burning for both light and warmth. The smoke from the fires curl lazily upward to the small hole in the roof while numerous dried herbs hang nearby. Esther is here, hanging up some damp shirts off to one side of the hall, a make shift clothesline if you will. She, herself, is only half clothed with a leather loincloth covering the bottom half of her while she hums softly under her breath.
Heading into the Hall is the infamous Coyote pack. Any time they show up, nothing good can be happening. Justin is in the lead, wearing a pair of baggy jogger shorts and a simple flannel tied about his waist, leaving the rest of him bare chested from the muggy weather outside. His shaggy brown hair is in need of a good cutting. "I'm glad we could get out of the city for a bit. Fresh air is nice once in awh--" He pauses at the sight of a half-naked Esther, squinting his eyes before his grin widens. "... nice."
Of course something good's happening: they're arriving! ...what, that doesn't count? Felix is behind Justin, and snorts softly at the adjustment of his remark. "There's benefits," he agrees, and lifts his chin and a hand to Esther in greeting. "Hey."
It's questionable of the lot of urrah should be eye-deep in Pure One territory, but at least one of them has a right to be there. He comes weaving his way in between his packmates, the Uktena in his native form with his jaws crammed full of three, fat, gutted rabbits. Three-Mountains seems to pay no attention at Esther's state of dress, only uttering a cheery muffled whuff of greeting on his way to depositing his catch near the fire pit.
Esther has her back to the door, luckily, when the Coyote pack enters. She's reaching up to pin a cream colored shirt on the line, a clothespin between her lips, when she hears a familiar voice. Pulling the shirt with her, she turns around ever so slowly to eye the pack and just as she opens her mouth to say something about them being in a certain territory, when the Uktena steps up with the rabbits. Her smile brightens as she steps his way though she tosses Justin a 'look'. Really, she shouldn't be so worried about being half naked, surely Coyote pack has seen girls sans clothing before. "Oh, those look wonderful!" She tells Three-Mountains as she crouches near the fire pit. The wrinkled shirt held to her chest, for now.
Well, at least ONE of the pack is getting some action. It is surely not Justin, nor Watcher (unless he is holding out), so, the Ahroun is definitely going to get an eye-full of boob while he can. He gives Esther a 'look' back, practically fucking her with his gaze before he flops down on the floor with a cackle. "I wanted to bring three McRibs but Watcher wouldn't let me defile the 'pure' territory with my Mickey D's. Esther, this here is our new packmate, Felix. Galliard and Gnawer."
Possibly why Felix gives Justin a 'really, dude?' glance at the look he gives Esther. Or maybe he's just more of a gentleman, although there's probably too much amusement there to entirely qualify. Still, at least he doesn't stare, taking the time to look around at his surroundings until he's actually introduced, at which point he flashes Esther a bright grin. "Nice to meetcha. Interestin' place you got here; ain't been lucky enough to visit anythin' quite like it before."
Three-Mountains gives his tail a gleeful wag, seeming quite pleased at the praise from the Wendigo. They are all over! He remarks. They smell the season change coming. Justin's words bring the Galliard's ear to twist around and he regards his long time pal with a snort. The coywolf gives himself a shake before fluffing his fur, and form, into his Hispo form. ~They are tasty and easier to catch but Silvertip-rhya would be very unhappy. She has very sharp teeth. I do not want to make her angry.~ He glances then to Felix, ~It is nice in winter! The fires are warm and comfortable at night.~
Esther clears her throat lightly as her gaze returns to Justin though just briefly as if to challenge that look he gave her. She can't hold it long unfortunately and turns to look to Felix. "A pleasure to meet you, Felix and thank you for bringing these and not those horrid, processed, fake burger things. And thank you. We do love it here." She straightens, quite pleased he mentioned the Hall. "I am Esther Kaganak, rited The Storm of the North Who Strikes the True Enemy's Heart, Fostern Ahroun Wendigo, and welcome to our home." Looking to Three-Mountains again, she nods in appreciation. "No, I wouldn't wish to make Silvertip upset. Espcially not here.. "
"Fake rib things!" Justin protests before he flops backwards upon his back, staring up at the ceiling. Of course he flustered her. He is a lady's man that can't get a lady. "So what's going on Esty? The moon is too full to do anything awesome. Figured we'd drop by and say yo to you. Hey, there's vampires in the city by the way!"
"Horrid, processed, delicious fake rib things," Felix says, grinning again, and since Esther went proper, replies to her with, "Felix T. Sinclair, rited Lets-Them-Eat-Cake, Cliath Bone Gnawer Galliard, at your service," punctuating it with a cheerfully flamboyant bow, "...and thanks." He continues checking the building out, then, prowling from place to place for closer looks instead of flopping down with Justin.
Three-Mountains lays down next to the fire pit and just faintly between Esther and Justin, though he doesn't look bothered at all and quite contentedly relaxed. ~Yes, vampires. Strong ones not afraid of us. They killed many humans when we tried to save them, just to make us angry. They made the humans sick in the head. We tried to help but the vampires beat us then burned the humans and building they were in. Have you hunted vampires?~ He asks of the Wendigo warrior with a curious cup of his ears.
Esther remains standing near the fire as she eyes Coyote pack almost suspiciously. The flickering flames keeps her in a silhouette to the boys, something she probably did on purpose as she stood between them and the fire. Though Three-Mountains, whom seems to be the least threatening of the pack and the more gracious, she smiles at but looks to Felix again with a nod. "You're welcome." A pause which pulls her lips down into a frown. The girl has a youthful, firm body, curvy, filled out and she would be beautiful if it weren't for the puckered scars on the one side of her face. "Vampires." She hisses, shaking her head as she looks to Three-Mountains again. "I.. haven't. Do you need another warrior to help?"
"Well, Slug is supposed to tell Emma about it. I don't know if he did yet. They kinda manhandled us the other day and it was embarrassing. But, yeah, if Slug and Emma doesn't hop to it, then I got no problem taking point, or letting you take point since you out rank me and shit." Justin says as he props his head up with his arms crossed under his head.
Felix gets to where he can get a glance through the opening to the other room, and apparently that settles most of his curiosity for the moment, as he wanders back and drops down crosslegged on the ground near his packmates. "Seems like it'd be real comfy in winter," he agrees belatedly toward Three-Mountains, and leans back on his hands. "How long's it been since then?" he asks Justin, "Reckon we oughta try an' find out if he got 'round to it? Be nice to know if anythin' more's goin' on with that."
~He did not sound very willing to help.~ Three-Mountains remarks with a limpness to his ears. ~Not soon enough until he explored more. They are very strong vampires. One attacked us with shadows. It will take many of us, their leader has many following him. I do not like leaving them. We have enough enemies. If he has not told the older Garou then we should act. The Litany demands it.~
Esther glances Felix' direction when he finally returns from his wanderings about the hall then settles down to sit cross legged before the pack, a frown still pulling her brow down. "Well, I wouldn't lead as I don't know where they are or their tactics. Anything. I might be higher rank," She nods to Justin, "But I'm unfamiliar with vampires, but I'd be more than willing to help and I'm sure Silvertip would.. too if she were around. And Three-Mountain's is right, the Litany demands action."
Justin nods his head a bit from his sprawled position. "I'll go ahead and text him later tonight and ask him what's up. He said he can track them I think. But they are powerful so we may need some big dogs. I'm gonna get Thane also. This is up Blitzkrieg's alley. I know they'd love to do it."
"I reckon it's still doin' somethin' if the planny people are plannin' shit," Felix says, "but if they're not, it ain't. So we better find out." It sounds like agreement, by tone, and he unfolds his legs, moving them to in front of him, soles on the floor. "Sounds to me like either way we're gonna want a whole lot of us involved."
Three-Mountains pulls himself up onto his paws and curls up his lips in a silent snarl. ~Then see what he says and we will plan. We will know then what Garou can best help.~ Talk of battle appears to have gotten the mix breed worked up and he begins moving for the exit. ~I am going to see if I can find larger prey. The moon is full, it is a good time to hunt. Others can come if they want.~ And then he's skulking out of the hall.