The center of the caern is devoid of the thick vegetation that inhabits the rest of the forest. The ground is flat and well trodden, its rich, dark soil nonetheless still carrying the scent of the woods--moss and peat mixed with pine needles, detritus, and the dampness brought from life-giving rain. The wide, empty clearing is dominated by one living exception to the absence of vegetation: an impossibly gigantic and ancient tree growing out of the ground near the very center. The tree defies logic. Grown in the span of a single year, it nevertheless has the size, apparent age, and character of the greatest and most ancient of forest sentinels. It looms over everything, silent and watchful. The backdrop to this commanding presence is almost as remarkable. Spanning the entire length of the old caern's chasm and completely encompassing the southern half is a colossal remnant of the wasp nest built during the Wyld surge. The towering walls of the nest are as strong as the earth into which they're built, their surface smooth to the touch and colored in shaded swirls of beiges, browns, yellows, and reds in a hypnotizing, pleasing way. Oval shapes bulge from the wall in places, while others sinks inward, giving the whole thing a haphazard air.
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 simple white 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.
Consumes-Shadows is a massive, bipedal werewolf. His shaggy, dense coat shows the distinctly darker fur traditional of Shadow Lords. It is mostly a warmer toned black with brown ticking and a few lighter patches around his shoulders. His eyes show a pale yellow under a fierce, heavy expression - one, anyway. The blind right eye is buried in a couch of talon scars. There's a haunted look to his visage, like he has seen terrible things and was never quite was the same after. Hands and feet end in wicked, long black talons. The scars on the lower portions of his two forearms are dominantly visible, jagged and ash-stained. Numerous other small scars mark him, with the only other of note being a larger, superficial scar across his stomach.
It's mostly sunny and mostly warm, at least where the sun managed to get through the trees. In the shade it's a big chilly and damp but this is a forest and such is the nature of things. The big tree in the center of the caern is a bit more damp and cool given its size but Consumes-Shadows is there anyway. He's in his Crinos form, seated and leaning against the tree, with his eyes half-lidded but watchful on the boundaries of the caern.
Felix is finally back to his more accustomed homid form, all healed up. He's moving oddly through the treed area, climbing onto rocks and roots, leaping up periodically to grab branches -- or try, at least one is a bit too ambitious for the combination of his height and jumping prowess -- and swing on them, or, on one pretty near the edge of the caern proper, do a set or so of pull-ups. And THEN swing on it, or rather, off, throwing himself a few feet forward. All in all it gives the impression of a kid with far too much energy and not enough places to put it. Two out of three aspects of that impression are still accurate.
Consumes-Shadows looks towards the Gnawer who's doing a valid impression of his biological ancestors but doesn't seem concerned as long as nothing on the bawn is unduly broken. It's not immediately than the Ahroun says anything when he notices the Galliard but he doesn't let it go very long before chuffing out a low grunt-growl just to let the other know he's there. The way he is slouched against the tree one could almost mistake his brown-black fur as part of the landscape.
The shade makes it harder to pick out the Crinos at first glance, but the chuff certainly helps. "Hey," Felix greets in return, heading over toward the Ahroun and the massive tree; the latter gets a looking over as though he's seriously entertaining the possibility of climbing it, which he may well be, before he looks back to the former. "How's it goin'? Anythin' new?"
~All's been quiet so far.~ Consumes-Shadows says to the Gnawer. ~Which, while welcome, is equally disconcerting. You can hear them planning from here. We'll need to decide soon if we're going to play on defense or offense when it comes to the Tower but for the moment the sept was still licking wounds.~
"I like offense," Felix says, stepping up onto one of the roots and beginning to wander along it, balancing, "...never hurts havin' more control over what an' where. Plus I still wanna blow the place up. I know it ain't the subtlest or most precise, but it'd be fuckin' awesome. Might be good if we could try an' get all the info anyone knows together again, I was passin' on shit the other night some folks hadn't heard. Which, ain't like that ain't my job, but if people're tryin' to figure shit out without some bit someone else knows, well." He shrugs.
~As you said, that's what Galliards are for.~ Consumes-Shadows says to the other. ~Still, important to keep things going and not expect someone else is out there doing it. I'm inclined to blow it up myself and I would were it not for the fallout concerns. Innocent lives can be largely removed if it's done in the middle of the night on the weekend. The concern being after government investigations after. I keep debating ways we can ship her off to Seattle considering that's the territory she wants and let Renegade deal with her. If we'd get lucky they'd kill one another but if we kill her that'll help make others thing twice about coming out way.~
"Slug had a pretty awesome idea, conceptually speakin'. No idea how the fuck we'd do it, but. We were talkin' about the telepathy thing, an' I was wonderin' if the Queen an' wraiths here were only telepathic with each other or also the ones at the other towers, an' he was musin' on whether some kinda brain-whammy, his words, on the Queen might spread to the others, and then thinkin', what if we could give the wraiths somethin' like an ear-worm that makes 'em think one thought over an' over, faster an' faster, until they can't do nothin' else, an' I was thinkin', that's like a virus kinda, yeah? What if we could infect 'em with somethin' like that that they'd pass on to each other, fuck all their brains up? Like I said, no fuckin' clue HOW, but it'd be an awesome way to use their telepathy thing against 'em, if we could." He does about half a cartwheel into a handstand on the root, and promptly falls over, turning it into a sort of roll into a seated position. It's not particularly elegant, and as dubious as it may be that he intended that whole thing, he manages to give off a very convincing 'I meant to do that' aura as he gets comfy.
Consumes-Shadows holds thumb and foreclaw close together as he remarks, ~Mouse was asking the other Theurges to craft weapons or similar bound items out of the remains of those wraiths. The idea being she can't defend against her own flesh and blood, considering she made them. I'm no Theurge, but I'd wonder if their bits such as brains and what not might provide a link towards that. Feed her false information.~
Felix nods. "Yeah, Nolan was sayin' maybe skulls or jaws, but brains'd make even more sense," he agrees, "'cause I asked them an' Lin if maybe there's Gifts or talens or some shit to jam telepathy, or if we could break in on it... rock if we could turn it into a problem for 'em instead of an advantage. Plus if they CAN telepathy all the way to the other towers, might be good if we could cut 'em off before we do shit so the others don't know what gets done." He stretches a little, then leans back on his hands, sighing. "Hey. Less important thing, I reckon, but -- you been out here pretty much 24/7 for, what, four months now, right?"
Consumes-Shadows tips his head consideringly. ~Thankfully, to my understanding, the Queens do not get along. Best I can compare them two is three queen bees born in the same hive. They're competitors who had to spread out to build their own hives, spawn their own drones, and whoever has the biggest castle and army is the best. I don't expect them to play together or else we'd all be wiped off the map. If we can figure out just how to take them down, it's information we can use to help any survivors in the other cities to retake their caerns. If the caerns still exist.~
There's a dark flash in Felix's eyes at the 'if' on the caerns, and a brief tension through his muscles, released in a quick (and decidedly more graceful than his sitting) pop to his feet. "That's why I was sayin' if they talk to each other we'd wanna stop 'em -- so they dunno ahead of time what it is we did that worked, for when the others do it," he says, pacing a bit again. "From what Alicia said it sounded like they'd hafta work together a little, if the whole revolution thing was part of a ritual that'd get fucked by us gettin' rid of one of 'em. But, you're right, they can't be bosom buddies 'cause they'd sweep through shit a lot easier if they concentrated forces an' all that instead of hittin' different spots. Which I guess is good for us. Sure be nice if we could turn 'em actively against each other."
~It would be nice to let them kill one another.~ Consumes-Shadows says with a regretful sounding sigh. ~But we don't have that luxury of time anymore. So instead of schemes we're going to have to resort to killing. We'll see how the Theurges can help us and formulate a plan from there.~ The Ahroun then waves a hand, ~In regards to what you said before, yes roughly. Just after Christmas. Day after, if I recall properly.~
"I'm down with doin' the killin'. Just would sure be efficient if they'd do it to each other for us." Felix grins, and pauses, turning to the Ahroun again at the last comment, "Right. So, okay, y'all got a gym in the Vault, right? But not out here." A gesture to the surrounding trees, "Obviously. So how're you handlin' workin' out instead? Me an' J set us up a gym in the Library, I been liftin' there, but..." Another gesture to their surroundings. "Ain't exactly got access to it lately."
~Well, we did.~ Consumes-Shadows says to Felix with a snort. ~Now that's going to be considered no man's territory at least until things are cleared out around here and I can readdress security, though it may yet be safer to move house. On the topic though... this is a big place. You were already doing some of it, though I'm not a personal fan of monkey-climbing trees. Running, helping upkeep the land... you'd be surprised how often trees fall and block paths we use or useful game trails. Wolves don't use free weights. They run, jump, hunt, fight. The forest can be a pretty useful boot camp course if you look at it right.~
"Well, I do a lot of that stuff," Felix says, "...though I ain't had a lot of trees to move. Might work, if I can find some. Just pretty sure I ain't gonna get much stronger doin' bodyweight shit than I already am. I ain't real heavy. 'less I ain't lookin' at it right."
Consumes-Shadows rises up to his feet and gives his shoulders a roll. ~Know how much strength it takes to climb a mountain? Lift an entire tree? Move boulders? Walk ten miles? How about I strap a bunch of rocks around you and make you try and outrun a hunting Garou?~ He says with a wide, toothy grin. ~I have two Fenrir in my pack. Challenging each other to stupid contests is pretty much a requisite to consider the day well rounded. I'm sure we can work up some ideas here in the bawn to keep you occupied.~
Felix tilts his head, considering. "Reckon it'd depend on the mountain, but I ain't lived by any before, so nah. Definitely depends on the tree but I don't reckon I ever lifted a whole one. Lots, for anythin' I'd consider a boulder, 'cause I've moved bigass rocks an' that's sure as hell work. An' yeah, 'cause I've done a shitload of walkin'. Though less real long ones since I learned to drive. Takes more stamina than strength though, or that's how I remember it. Just gotta keep goin'. ...what would you strap the rocks with?" He sounds more curious about that than doubtful, though he doesn't look particularly thrilled with the idea of the Fenrir being involved.
~Not that I'm saying you have to deal with my pack.~ Adds Consumes-Shadows. ~It's just we keep ourselves tested to keep on our toes. As for the rocks, more hypothetical. Rope, I'd suppose. The point being, you don't need a gym. You just need to make use of what you have. How often do you spar? And I'm not talking fisticuffs. I'm talking actual Garou fighting.~
"You ain't seen our gym," Felix says, with a quick grin; the tone's just slightly wry, possibly enough to remind a listener the one in question was kitted out by Gnawers. "Well, not so much I couldn't do it more. I prolly do more fightin' practice in homid'n anythin' else."
~Well all considered as to what's going on,~ Remarks the Lord. ~You'd best develop some new preferences. So how about this. You're itching for ways to blow off steam, right? You spar with me. We'll use all the forms, work on new ways of fighting. We can even work on the other side of the Gauntlet. Umbra-skin feels different, especially if you're fighting spirits. We can even see about assembling a little challenge course if we get the free time.~
Felix grins at the offer, and his stance shifts in what seems like it might be a subconscious manner, maybe from the topic -- just a small adjustment of weight that leaves him in a much more securely balanced and 'ready' position. "I'd be down with that," he says, "Thanks. When d'you wanna start?"
Consumes-Shadows huffs out the rough equivalent of a Crinos laugh. ~Whenever you're ready, Gnawer. Before we get into a rowdy rendition of thumb wrestling though I should see about acquiring dinner. Fighting on an empty stomach is good when you need some Rage. When you need to keep it stilled, not so good and the moon is still heavy. Care to venture back to Edgewood or shall I just find you out here?~
"I'm always ready," Felix says cheerfully, as patently not-literally-true as any 'always' claim, "...and always hungry, so =that= plan sounds good too. I oughta warn you, though, my thumb's got two belts an' a lucha mask. I reckon we're gonna need plenty of fuel."
~Beer then.~ Consumes-Shadows says before taking to the Lupus form for quicker travels. ~Let's get to it then while there still may be something worthwhile in the fridge. I'm not in the mood for raw venison again.~ And with that said, the black wolf is jogging off towards the trail leading out of the caern.