With tensions having been running high at the new moon moot, Dakota held off the challenge. No need to risk anything dramatic. So with the afternoon moving in on a sunny and cool day the Theurge called those to witness the challenge of Slug to the story tree. She's present in her Crinos form and wearing a leather drawstring bag around her neck and a bright red strip of cloth draped over her shoulders like a ribbony shawl. (RE)

It seems that the Sept's resident Forsetti has decided to join and take witness of this challenge. The large imposing man is currently standing next to Dakota, dwarfing her with his stature. He has broad arms folded over his bare chest, the rest of him covered in a bit of dirt and sweat. There is a loud snort from him, followed by a loud popping of joints as he works his shoulders.

War is on the mind of most Garou these days, and the challenger is no exception. He shows up at the appointed place at the appointed time, still dressed in his Mickey Mouse ears and cloak, but with a few additions. A road flare on a stick hangs out of his cloak, tapping his leg as he walks. He gnaws the end of a crooked lollipop stick jutting out from his thin lips.

And the Gnawer is accompanied by a raven, who makes a low pass over his head and clips the Mickey Mouse ears, before settling within the Story tree. Folding up her wings, Memory takes a moment to preen, before giving her full attention to the Garou beneath her.

Felix is, currently, =also= in the Story Tree; it has that temptingly convenient branch for starting the climb, and who is he to refuse the offer? The one he's ended up on has a good view of those below, not too many sharp needles in the way, and he's been idly enjoying a healthy Gnawer breakfast of pop-tarts, beef jerky, and Coke up there for a while now. His attention has turned from food to the arrivals more as he gets less hungry and they get more present. When Memory lands, she's offered a broken-off bit of raw frosted toaster pastry in greeting.

Song-of-Ashes is laying under the tree, head on his paws save when he turns a pleading eye up onto his packmate for a bit to be tossed down his way. The Uktena stays laying down even as others gather but the lupus regards each one closely with Memory absorbing most of his curious attention.

Pack> Felix says "Open your mouth, lemme see if I can drop it in."

Never one to turn down food, Memory hops a few branches over and collects the offered poptart, before returning to her earlier perch.

Pack> Justin says ".... Drop what. in?"

Pack> Song-of-Ashes was waiting for that comment.

Pack> Felix says "Talkin' to Watcher. An' wouldn't you like to know?"

Pack> Justin says "There is a squinty feel through the pack link. "... Watcher,if he takes his pants off .. you bite.""

There is a sharp look in Brom's eyes as he gives Slug a quick up and down look. His nose wrinkles up visibly and lets out a loud scoff.

Pack> Felix snickers. "I ain't the one who was makin' jokes about packmates an' peanut butter, man. That's ALL you. ...by the way, Slug's challenge thing's startin', if you're around."

Heartsinger greets the faces that arrive with a nod of her head but waits until everyone has settled themselves in. ~Thank you all for coming. Today we gather to bear witness to the challenge of Black-Light to myself for the rank of Adren.~ She steps forward towards the Gnawer elder as she carefully withdraws the pouch from around her neck and opens it. ~Ragabash are unique in that they can be Glorious, Honorable, and Wise in any amount - no one aspect defines them. It is their unique birthright from Luna that allows them to serve their duties in the way best befitting themselves and the situation. So a Ragabash must be able to act in any capacity. Your challenge is thus threefold.~ She empties the contents of the pouch and in one spread hand there are three stones. Each is the size to fit comfortably in a human palm. The first is a cut piece of swirled blood-red carnelian with the Glory glyph marked in pure gold leaf. The next is a polished black river rock painted in copper leaf with the Wisdom glyph. The last is marked with the Honor glyph in silver leaf over an small unbroken geode. ~Three challenges, three stones. Complete a challenge and win a stone.~ In her other hand she withdraws the red band of cloth. ~A volunteer is needed. In Glory, bloodshed is not always the goal, but only to succeed over a greater opponent using your cunning. Your first challenge is to retrieve this from where it is tied on your foe without being pinned.~

Song-of-Ashes pricks up his ears to his packmate and tips up his head, jaws opening and waiting. He does turn one eye on the speaker though and hears out the terms of the challenge. However, he shows no signs of getting up to volunteer. This lupus is no warrior.

Slug stands as still and somber as a man on the tracks staring down a freight train. Though his hands are unseen, his posture suggests that they're folded at his waist, his attention focused squarely on Heartsinger and little else. He nods, agreeing or acknowledging, sight lingering on the stones.

Brom rocks his shoulders back and forth once more, then gives a wide grin to the Gaian. "There is no one else here better to represent glory than a Get of Fenris. I can assure you, he will not get that rock off me. If he is. lucky, he will only have one or two broken bones."

Pack> Justin says "Huh. Should I head over and watch?"

Felix leans slightly forward on his branch, squinting down at his packmate as he takes aim, and then drops another bit of pop-tart toward the Uktena's mouth. Slug's attire gets a look from him as well, then, but it's followed by a grin in his case. Another bit of pastry drops toward the coywolf's maw, and then Dakota's starting properly, and he shifts to better focus on what's going on below. The stones get the best look he can manage from there, and he seems tempted by the request for a volunteer, moving as if considering jumping down. Brom beats him to it, though, and he settles back, with a faint smirk at the Get's boasting.

Pack> Felix says "If you wanna. Lookin' interestin' so far. Looks like it's startin' with gettin' a ribbon off Brom without gettin' pinned. Gonna be Honour an' Wisdom tasks after, assumin' he wins this one."

There's the quiet click of teeth as Song-of-Ashes shuts his mouth. The bits of poptart are likely engulfed whole as he's licking passing crumbs from his nose but seconds after closing his mouth. As Brom steps up the Galliard's big ears tip back apprehensively and he lays his head back down with a sympathetic look passed to Slug.

Pack> Justin says "Ha. Poor Slug."

Heartsinger regards Brom's announcement appraisingly before nodding her head once and offering out the strip of red cloth. ~Think of this as flag football, only Garou style. No serious injury, please, we can't afford it. You can choose where the cloth is, Rules-Without-Fear.~

Pack> Felix says "I swear Get can't even take a shit without braggin' about how great they are. Heh."

Slug draws in a slow breath, one that fills him so completely that the Garou seems almost seems taller in the moment before he lets it go. He nods, either at her, or at him, then takes the stick off his waist and embeds it flare-side up in the dirt. He looks around the tree, up into the branches, among the dirt, and briefly at the Fenrir.

Brom reaches out and takes the red scarf from the Gaian, then stuffs it down the front of his pants. Shifting upwards to his glabro form, he flashes a wide grin to the Gnawer as he tilts his head to one side to crack the joints, then the other to pop the. other side. He slams his meaty fist into one open palm.

Pack> Justin says "You ever see that guy fight? I think it's okay for him to brag."

Slug shifts up to Glabro himself, his posture still easy, loose. He glances back at Heartsinger and asks, voice rough, "We haven't started yet, right?" He puts on his best smile, the expression coming across as forced due to the heavy scar tissue running down one side of his brutish face. He takes a few steps forward, and, assuming Heartsinger hasn't said it's go time, he offers his hand. "May the best man win?"

Pack> Felix laughs. "He put it down his pants. Nice. An' I don't doubt he can fight, but so far I met maybe two Get who can get through a conversation without announcin' how great they think they are. 's funny. When I'm in a good mood."

Heartsinger seems to suppress a roll of her eyes - this is a formal event after all - and looks between Get and Gnawer and leaves her gaze lingering on Slug. ~Firstly terms. *No rules*, save no damage I can't fix or trying to uproot the tree to beat one another with. Fight smart. You frenzy and you lose. If Slug is pinned or otherwise rendered unable to compete, he loses. If Brom loses the cloth, he loses. As you will, gentlemen.~ She says, hands out and head dipping in a Garou-like bow and she steps back to give them room.

Pack> Song-of-Ashes says "That doesn't seem like a wise place to put that."

Instead of taking the hand, Brom takes a step back and gives him a wider grin. As soon as the Gaian mentions 'no rules', his eyes practically glow and his skin begins to lump up and take a gnarled look to it.

Felix laughs when he sees the Get's choice of ribbon-placement, quietly singing a brief snippet of song: "Lad, I don't know where you been..." He reopens the Coke to take a sip, and watches the squaring up as if he wishes he'd brough popcorn, as well.

Song-of-Ashes looks even more worried at mention of the tree and he looks to what's right behind him. The Uktena plucks himself up and moves away to somewhere where there's more room for quick, evasive maneuvers.

Slug holds up his hands and shrugs, bowing his head. The Gnawer takes a few easy steps back, then turns on his heel and bolts off into the brush as fast as his long legs can carry him, arms pumping.

As Slug heads off through the brush, Brom watches him go with a smirk. He gives Dakota a nudge. "This is the part where he thinks I am going to chase him.". He takes a few steps to ensure he is not up against a tree and had a good three-sixty look of the area. He keeps his arms loose, swaying back and forth with fingers clenching in and out. He gives his belt a bit of a tighten with the large wolf. belt buckle upon it. "Let me guess. He is going to sneak up on me and use his opening doors gift to drop my pants and try and get it."

Pack> Justin says "Ha. He put it down his pants? Hilarious."

Pack> Felix is, as is not wholly infrequent, mentally quietly humming.

Pack> Justin says "I would put it down my pants also. If he is wearing tighties, Slug won't be able to just reach in and snag them without getting a fist full of nuts. Tying it on myself would mean it would be exposed and can get yanked out in a struggle."

Pack> Justin says "Though if I was Slug, I would nail him with the honey gift and get bugs all over him, cause him to freak out, then try and snag them that way."

Five minutes pass without incident, then ten more. The forest is as quiet and calm as it gets these days. The sharp hiss of a chemical reaction breaks the silence as the cap pops off the road flare and falls to the ground, burning with a bright and furious light.

Heartsinger crosses her arms as she looks to the gnarled-skin Fenrir. ~~ The Child of Gaia pulls back her lips in a toothy smile. ~Not every fight has to be done at close range with claws and teeth.~ She waits with patience, seeming unbothered with the lack of activity as the minutes pass. As the flare hisses to life she looks down at it but makes no move towards it. She just keeps her place on the sidelines.

Song-of-Ashes has half-closed his eyes at around the ten minute mark and by fifteen the coywolf is looking like he's asleep. At least until popping flare. He bolts up onto his paws with his hackles up only to see the only 'enemy' is the glowing stick. He hunkers down onto his haunches with a huff.

"Hey, you said no rules." Brom says after he mumbles a number of words to himself under his breath that sounded like German. He also had his hand down his pants for some reason. He shifts his hand left, right, then pulls his hand back out. With a smirk, he shifts upwards into the Crinos form, standing at his towering and imposing height. Along his body is rippled scars and missing fur. Where is the scarf though? There is a small red patch bound into his hip it appears, like that of an ox-head. Did he seriously just dedicate it to his body?

Felix starts looking fairly bored by the time ten minutes have passed. Arguably five, really, but by ten he's finished off the piece of jerky he had left as well. He's just started eyeing up other branches of the tree consideringly when the flare goes off, and he blinks, looking toward the sound, then squinting and glancing away from the brightness of the light, and around the rest of the surroundings instead.

There's a small rustle in a bush on the far side of the clearing, then another. The bushes rustle and shake, seldom close together, sometimes with minutes in between them- then there's another lull. With the Story Tree between him, Heartsinger, and Rules-Without-Fear, Black-Light ( or presumably Black-Light ) comes creeping through the forest on his belly. The wolf's black fur is matted with something, littered with flecks of leaves, needles, and other bits of plant debris.

As they continue to wait, Rules Without Fear rumbles to the Gaian, ~I am about to go into the Umbra at this point.~ He says he watches the trees rustle as he shifts here and there, adjusting his stance as he patiently prepares. ~Come on, Slug! Are you not eager to lose your OTHER eye to me?!~

Song-of-Ashes sniffs at the air and follows the sounds of the rustling, his fur lifting over his shoulders again. He doesn't move from where he's sitting though and just tracks the sounds of the creeping Ragabash.

Heartsinger no doubt hear's the sound and glances here and there, but she remains quiet and patient. She doesn't respond to the Fenrir and only passes him a most serene look.

Black-Light gets about as close to the tree as he expects to get, then rises from the forest floor, his shoulders squashed, head low. The wolf darts out like a shot, his eyes wide, pupils shrunken. He dashes past Heartsinger and snatches the flare stick in his teeth, barreling toward the Fenrir. Light shimmers across his coat as he crosses through dappled sunlight in the clearing, his fur wet and... flowing? Wolf hair isn't normally that long, is it?

~About time! Whatcha gonna do with that glow stick?~ Rules Without Fear blurs forward in movement that belies his size. He is a brother of hummingbird and there is no one faster in the woods right now. He zips so quick that if you blink you will miss it. It appears that he is going to barrel down upon the ragabash, time himself, then tackle with a snarl

Oh, that's more like it! The Galliard in the tree brightens up as the challenger zooms back into the area, leaning to try to maintain a good look so he can work out just what's happening there, quick as they may both be moving.

With Black-Light running for Rules-Without-Fear and vice versa, there's little doubt that they'll collide. The Gnawer is smaller and faster thanks to the wolf form, while the bigger Fenrir with his troll's skin is slower. Hummingbird helps even the field and lend speed to the halfmoon's movements and the two meet in the middle. The Ragabash's lower profile helps him avoid a pounce and snatch from the Fenrir, though the halfmoon's claws find themselves plenty of weirdly long patches of fur. That close to the flare, lupine senses on both sides are assaulted with the stench and brilliance of the light.

Black-Light shifts his approach so that the burning end of the stick clutched in his muzzle is facing the Fenrir on the inside. The smell of something sickly sweet fills as the air as he passes, a small swarm of insects trailing in his wake. The Ragabash wheels around as they pass by one another, a matador and his wolf, gnawing at the stick like an overexcited labrador.

As he rushes past and digs his claws into the Ragabash, he pulls his hands up, finding them sticky and itchy. Letting out a frustrated snarl, he lands and swats the bugs away. ~Ha!~ He roars out in amusement as he watches the Gnawer round back. ~You take a bath in pig food? You smell like my kid's diaper.~

In the aftermath of first contact, Rules-Without-Fear is left with fingers and claws itching and his thick skin swelling like a allergic reaction. No sooner has he recovered to mock the Gnawer then the itch spreads like a plague across his body. From the warty seams of his trollish hide a sickly sweet oil runs. The insects swarm him. They're in his fur, crawling over his skin, biting and nibbling and stinging. They creep into his ears with a deafening buzzing, cluster around his eyes, even clog up his nose. Gaia only knows nowhere is probably sacred.

Song-of-Ashes watches the combat as he picks up a restless, circling pace around the clearing. He keeps his weight light on his paws just in case he has to make a break for it.

~Fruit,~ the wolf responds, the word muffled by the stick. He drops the wood to the ground and jumps across it, tail whipping around as he charges in. He comes in low and fast on the right, his eyes set on the Philodox's right ankle, his mouth hung open and dripping with spit.

Giving another swat at the air, it seems the Fenrir is no longer concerned with the stinging or biting as he had tapped into a gift to relieve him of pain. They are just annoying. Crouching down in a three point stance, much like a line backer would size up his enemy, he waits for the Ragabash to come forward. A wide, toothy grin forms upon the muzzle of the large Get as he lunges forward when the Gnawer makes his move.

There may not be pain, but thick skin and deadened nerves do little for bugs being in crevices and eyes. Rules-Without-Fear is half blinded by the bugs. As Black-Light darts underneath the Fenrir, Rules-Without-Fear finds him a slippery foe in the very literal sense with both the Philodox's own oily fur and whatever fruit the Gnawer smeared himself. That sweet residue is soon squashed over Fear's arms, undersides, and legs as the Gnawer makes a grab for the dedicated patch of fur. No cloth comes free, but the Fenrir does end up loosing a sizable chunk of fur. However, Black-Light finds his waist closed in the arms of the Get.

With a crushing grip, Rules Without Fear simply drops to the ground with his larger weight on top of the Gnawer. Splat. He pulls his knees in and his arms forward to essentially attempt to ball the Gnawer in against his chest and stomach.

Black-Light remains in Lupus as they get all tangled up, thrashing with all four limbs, scratching and wriggling like a dog that does not want to go into the bath. Beads of whatever it is matted all over his fur go flying in every direction as he struggles to free himself, growling and yipping.

The witnesses could see that where the two connect, Rules-Without-Fear's warty troll skin looks to be growing thicker and nastier. It's like the gift just keeps going versus stopping and it's making him look like something with a severe case of tree man illness. His arms, chest, belly, and legs are all impacted with the giant masses of warty tissue growing outward and as much as he tries to drop down the skin just isn't moving. He can hunker and try to keep grappling, but his own gift seems to be steadily locking him in place. The Gnawer looks equally troubled in his own way as his pelt continues to grow under the fruit's juice, tangling where it's caught in claws or rubbed on the ground. He's inching free from the tree-Get and finally gets enough traction to pull himself free, though he leaves a fair portion of his fur behind him where it's gotten caught.

There is a frustrated growl as the large Get drops his gift of troll skin as he shifts down into the glabro form. It seems for now he is willing to let the ragabash go as he swats more at the inspects in a furious manner, giving a loud spitting motion as well.

Black-Light comes away nearly bald around the middle- though his fur, in it's state, continues to grow and grow, rapidly replacing what's been lost in the middle while getting bushiser and fuller everywhere else. The all-black lupine looks like a threeway cross between a labrador, a poodle, and an Afghan. He turns, eager to trot away- then back around again as the Philodox shifts down into Glabro. He loops back around, nearly tripping over his own fur, and lunges after the back of Brom's pants in a scene straight outta Coppertone.

Felix laughs, watching them, and only harder when Black-Light goes for that last move. Definitely not bored anymore.

The bugs are relentless in their assault of Brom and his now tender, exposed skin. While he may not feel pain from their stings and bites he is quite thoroughly infested. The poor Philodox only becomes aware that Black-Light is there when he's all but pants (and non-too-gently) by lupine teeth. There's a mighty ripping sound as Brom turns to try and grab Black-Light. There's too many bugs in his eyes for Brom to see well enough but his hands do find the Gnawer's scruff.

At the feel of his pants tearing, Brom is thankful he is wearing boxer briefs beneath the denim. As the back of his pants rip apart, the red scarf falls out from between his legs to the ground below. Still battering at the bugs, he scrambles in a bit of a flail, then trips over the torn jeans to hit the ground.

Black-Light comes away with a mouthful of Wranglers, but thankfully, no underwear. His posture snaps to attention when he hears the rumple of cloth hitting the ground, and, without even checking to see if it might be a trap, he scoops it off the ground and runs away, looking much like a sentient wig.

Heartsinger lets out a short, sharp bark like the blurt of a ref's whistle. ~Black-Light has obtained the cloth. He has succeeded in this test of Glory.~ She turns a more sympathetic look onto Brom. ~Thank you for participating. Go... put some lotion on that.~ Poor bastard is oily, depants, and covered in bugs. ~His second challenge, once he's caught his breath, is Wisdom. It's a little less rowdy, I promise.~

Felix manages, just barely, to get enough control of the laughter to give a loud, piercing whistle of approval as his tribemate manages to snag the red cloth and continue to run, even if it does currently look like Slug might be descended from Cousin Itt. Which makes him laugh some more, as does Brom's only-mostly-pantsless state.

Song-of-Ashes wags his tail with great enthusiasm as the challenge round is concluded and sets up a quick, congratulatory howl. As he takes a good look to the Gnawer elder as well as the halfmoon, the Uktena questions, ~Do they... need a bath first? That is strange fruit.~

Brom pushes himself upwards with a frustrated grunt, then lets out a wry grin to Slug. "Congrats, asshole." He says as he reaches down the front of his briefs and plucks out a grasshopper. Flicking it off to the side, he continues to swat at the insects as he. lumbers through the woods to find the lake and dunk himself.

Black-Light comes back around only when victory is declared, chewing on the cloth in his mouth as though it's a ball he can't quite keep hold of. Panting, he shifts up to Homid with it still in his teeth. His skin is much, much hairier than it should be, and smeared with a vibrant array of colors. "Thank you," he says to those assembled, offering a curt bow.

Song-of-Ashes just grimaces at the appearance of Slug and the array of colors. ~Ugh, bawn fruit. I should have known. You feeling okay? Need to go get cleaned up too before we continue?~

Heartsinger just grimaces at the appearance of Slug and the array of colors. ~Ugh, bawn fruit. I should have known. You feeling okay? Need to go get cleaned up too before we continue?~

Slug looks up and down the length of his arms, hands held up, palms out. Even his hands and fingers have grown hairy. "I need to be cleansed. Nothing else will stop this, delaying it will only make it worse. Nowhere to go but forward. Let's keep going."

~No no, I can Cleanse you.~ Heartsinger says with a glance towards where the Fenrir went and utters a low howl to call him back but not alert everyone in hearing distance. ~We'll continue after. I don't want things escalating with either of you. Clever move, but definitely dangerous if you don't have someone around to fix it.~

Felix has it down to the occasional snicker, and sips his drink, watching the... well, intermission, it would seem.

Slug reluctantly submits at the Gaian's urging. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained," Slug says. "I've been hit with it before, but this is... different. This is... " he holds his hand up and looks at it, wriggling his fingers. "Kind of like acid."

Grumbling, Brom heads back, still swatting at the flies and bugs that are flying about him. "Call them off, Slug." He says with a loud huff. "This is bullshit."

~I think the gift has to wear off, Brom.~ Says Heartsinger to the Fenrir with a note of pity before she herds them into a circle and then sets about the Cleansing with the efficiency of someone who's done this a lot. She even revealed she keeps a cache at the compound. She doesn't dare skimp, so unfortunately for them and everyone watching it takes awhile to complete and frankly isn't very exciting, but she does it and does it right. Only after she's thoroughly checked them both to ensure any overgrown flesh or hair has sorted itself does she declare, ~There. All fixed.~

Slug wriggles his fingers as though trying to wave the Gift away. "Does it work that way? Is it just like, a scent you leave on someone, or..." he focuses his eyes, and tries, all the same. He goes through the Rite of Cleansing with the airs of someone that's done it many, many times before, and promptly sits on the ground once all is said and done.

Once he is cleansed, Brom lets out another snort as he continues to smack the bugs away. Afterwards, he takes off again, snagging his torn pants along the way that he forgot the first time.

Song-of-Ashes has sat himself back down at the base of the tree as battle ends and Cleansing begins. The Galliard is back to looking a bit bored and lazy as it passes and periodically looks upwards to his packmate in the event there's more tasty crumbs to fling down.

Felix pokes in his jacket pockets while the Cleansing goes on, and finds half a Snickers bar. Half of that gets dropped down to his packmate, in a couple bite-sized morsels, and the last quarter or so he eats himself. No further food after that; instead he finds the tin that houses his smokes and goes with one of those. Song-of-Ashes does not get one dropped to him, thankfully.

~The joy of gifts.~ Heartsinger says with a shrug of black-furred shoulders as she puts her supplies aside and watches the Fenrir go. She crouches down from across Slug afterwards and unfurls a clenched fist. The gold-branded carnelian is set down between them. ~Glory is complete. Next is Wisdom. As a follower of the Lady of Riddles, I trust you're familiar with this next challenge. A contest of three riddles asked and answered between you and I. Answer all three to continue. Should you stump me, then you'll pass even if all three haven't been completed. You can ask first.~

Slug scratches the back of his head as he glances at those assembled, then pulls his leg right up close to him and leans on it, tip of his chin on his kneecap. "During the last riddle contest I had time to write a bunch'a good ones. Hmmm..." he clears his throat. "I change minds and hands, but seldom hearts. Enough of me can change the world, but with me alone, you'll starve."

Heartsinger pulls back her lips in the impression of a smile as she scratches at the white streak under her jaw that runs down her throat. ~Ooh that's a good one, I like it. It could be a number of things, physical or mental.~ She crouches there thinking on this, muttering here and there under her breath as she ponders aloud. Finally, after several minutes, she looks up and says, ~Money. It changes hands and it can certainly convince someone to change their mind, even if it's not what their heart feels. While you can use it to change the world, if it's all you have and rely on then you're starving for real meaning.~

"An' starvin' for food, too, if you ain't also into a real high-iron, high-fiber diet," Felix adds from the peanut gallery; it would seem her answer makes sense to him, though he looks to Slug for the verdict.

Slug bobs his head in affirmation, doing his best to quiet his disappointment. "Yes," he says. "That would be the one." He looks on expectantly, waiting with the patience of a saint. A furry saint.

~I may have to borrow that one of your's sometime.~ Heartsinger says, ~That's a good one. Then answer me this: Many say there isn't enough of me. The young squander me, the old cherish me. When I'm lost, you struggle to obtain me. On wings I pass no matter your will, but I'm your slave to kill. What am I?~

Slug gets that faraway look that might cause one to confuse him with a Theurge on occasion, mulling things over. He wets his lips with a flick of the tongue and opens his mouth to speak, but before the first syllable can come out, he stops himself, then answers, "Time?"

~Yes!~ Heartsinger says with pleasure at his success, even going so far as to clap her open hand on a knee. The other remains closed around the remaining stones. ~Your turn again to see if you can stump me.~

Slug allows himself a broad and genuine smile, infected by her happiness. "OK." He clears his throat, then begins, "I am best kept by one man, seldom two, and never more. I am often born of mistakes, and shared at your peril. What am I?"

Felix's puzzlement clears at the answer, and he continues observing quietly, for the time being. Smoking in a tree. Possibly it's good he's not the one having to prove his wisdom, especially since Slug's follow-up question sends him right back into the land of furrowed brows and pondering.

Song-of-Ashes has been listening with patience, though it becomes clear relatively early than even being an Uktena that he seems to lack the attention span for riddles. Lupus and a lot of words rarely mix. He really is trying to pay attention and learn though, honest! There's just a lot of interesting smells that keep wafting past.

Heartsinger drums her claws over her knee as she considers the next riddle, though this one comes quicker to her than the last one. ~That one is a secret. Literally a secret. Or blackmail, depending on the nature of things I suppose. My answer though is secret.~

Slug snaps his fingers and sighs, but still, he smiles. "Yeah, that'd be it. Too bad Kevin never figured that one out." He tips his head at her. "Your go, miss."

Heartsinger flares her nostrils and lifts her chin with a hint of pride. ~Well I did beat him at riddles to get my rank.~ And as her turn comes back around, she asks, ~What has rivers but no water, forests but no trees, and cities but no buildings?~

Slug snorts, but he falls short of going off track. He sits and stews on the question, drumming a steady beat with his fingers. "Could be a painting- no. A map? It's a map, isn't it?"

~It is a map!~ Heartsinger says with a nod of her head. ~Though a painting is a good argument too. So two and two. This is your last chance to stump me, though even without that if you get my next riddle you'll succeed.~

Slug grins again, then drags his hand through his lengthened hair. "Ok. Here goes. I don't rust, but am sometimes tarnished. Some serve with me, some without, but those who have me, you seldom doubt. What am I?"

Heartsinger scrunched up the tip of her muzzle as she considers the riddle. This one seems to have her a bit befuddled. ~Well... that could be a lot of things. Well, I can only think of one thing that really makes sense. Honor.~

"You got it," he says, showing her a thumbs up. He takes in a long, slow breath, and braces himself for the final riddle.

~That one rang a bell close to home.~ Heartsinger says with a puff of breath before she poses her last riddle. ~With fangs of steel I sit and wait; with piercing force I crunch out fate; grabbing victims, proclaiming might; physically joining with a single bite. Yet on my own I cannot act; only by master's hand can my duty enact. What am I?~

Slug reasons that one out aloud, waving his hand in a circular way, as if swirling a glass of non-existant wine. "It could be something metaphorical, like... slavery, or something, but that doesn't seem right. I kind of want to say shackles or cuffs, but I gotta go with..." he crunches his fingers together. "Bear trap? The Spirals love those."

Heartsinger lets out a soft breath and slowly shakes her head, ~I follow your train of thought but it's not quite so mauling. It's a stapler.~ She says, her free hand acting out the process of squeezing a stapler.

"Was guessing it would be more dramatic with all that violence," Slug chides, winking at her. He stretches his arms out above his head, levers himself up to his feet, and sticks his hands into his pockets. "That the end of the challenge, or... are the stones a two outta three kinda deal?"

Felix lets out a quiet breath when Heartsinger shakes her head, but waits, watching to see her reply to the Ragabash.

Heartsinger chuckles as she shows the tips of her teeth in a Crinos smile while getting to her feet. ~When is our life ever two our of three? Eventually, the third always catches up to you. You see, Wisdom isn't about always knowing the answer. It's about learning from your mistakes, sharing the knowledge - or good riddles - that you have, and about knowing what's between the lines. All too often that's where the answer is. Well, there or right in front of your face. Above everything else, Wisdom is never accepting that there's not another way. So I propose you this last riddle, Ragabash: The terms, in my exact words, were 'answer all three to continue'. What did I mean by that?~

Slug sucks in a breath through his teeth and looks up at the tree tops, rolling his shoulders, eyes on the clouds. "I think that I acted kind of badly the first time I challenged, and part of this was to see how I'd act this time if I thought I might have failed. Or the phrasing itself was a riddle... or, more to the point, you said "answer" them, not "answer correctly". The answer itself wasn't as important as showing I had Wisdom enough to give a thoughtful reply, maybe not *the* answer, but *my* answer."

In the tree, Felix sits up slightly at Heartsinger's last question, eyes brightening a touch. A bit of ash falls from the cigarette, unheeded; he's much more interested in the challenge participants just now. Slug's remark on the phrasing gets a ghost of a nod, more as if it had confirmed a suspicion than is being confirmed, and he takes another absent drag, looking for the Adren's verdict again.

The Theurge's face brightens and she utters a whuffing series of lupine laughter. ~Correct.~ Heartsinger reaches down to place between them the second stone, the black river rock polished to a shine and marked with the Wisdom glyph in gleaming copper. ~When I was a cub, I thought Wisdom meant knowing the answer to everything. I came to find it's not the answer itself, but the time spend finding it and what the answer means to you and those you share it with. Growing and learning, examining even a simple question so you can know all its faces, and even admitting when you don't know; those are all paths of Wisdom. The answer is always in the question if you look at it the right way.~

"The value is wisdom is in seeking it, and knowing that above all you know nothing," he muses. "Or something like that. Knowledge is like power. Some think it's all that matters, some horde it, lord it over others..." he shrugs and looks back down at Heartsinger, then to the stone. "When I first challenged as an Ahroun, I challenged to make myself stronger. Now I challenge to see if I am worthy."

~Those sound like the words of a wise Garou to me.~ Heartsinger says to the Ragabash with a nod of approval. ~Wisdom - just when you think you know the answer, it slaps you and reminds you you're an idiot who has a lot to learn. The best you can do is straighten your tie, smile, and try again.~ She looks to the Garou present and then back to Slug. ~So I give you the last challenge. Honor. Most would say it's the hardest road, needing a balance between Glory and Wisdom in order to manage. However the Ragabash is seen as the Fool, the questioner of all of those Ways we all so doggedly hold to and treasure. It was the Ragabash who helped form those laws, honing them through questions and ferreting out their flaws and it is the Ragabash who reminds us why they are there. Now, this sept is... unique. There may not be another one out there that holds together so many tribes and so many beliefs. That peace, others say, comes with a price. We're soft, spineless, prone to coddling the weak among our numbers and accepting those the Nation casts aside, at times even to the detriment of the Litany itself. So I ask you now, Questioner, to convince us why one of the laws we have ignored in the past is still a law the Nation holds dear. Argue now the merits of the law: Suffer Not Others To Tend Thy Sickness and remind us why it remains even now at the end of days.~

Song-of-Ashes was nibbling at a flea at the tail end of the riddles, though the lupus did smart up and pay attention to the *actual* challenge terms and lesson that went with it. His ears splay at the wordplay and he puffs out a huff and glances up to Felix as if to say 'humans, yeesh'. Then there's the announcement they're all not apart of the challenge and not just spectators and he turns his eyes on Slug with renewed interest.

Slug takes a few moments to stretch out his back and pace around in a small circle, his eyes on the dirt. "A fitting challenge for a lawbreaker," he murmurs, adjusting his cap. "In times of war, with the Queen looming in her tower, and Renegade lurking in our shadows, can't save everyone. We can't feed everyone. The Garou who cannot fight for themselves makes their packmate fight for two, the wolf that cannot run slows the pack. To suffer and force others to serve you doesn't just hurt you, it hurts your Sept, makes them less able to protect themselves and your Kin, and forces you to watch as those you love struggle, maybe in vain, just so that you might live one more day. We should all know when it's our time, and know when we must go- for the good of all."

There is a loud laugh from the woods as Justin strolls out. "That is utter /bullshit/ and you know it. We can't feed everyone? Motherfucker, we're Gnawers and yet do you see us starving on the streets? No. St. Claire has been /great/ to us. We live in a church with working water, electricity, a bathroom and a fridge full of food. So what if a Garou gets old or even crippled. That doesn't take away what they've learned. Chop both of my legs off and I'm still one of the best tacticians here in the Sept. I can /teach/ you what I can't do. In the bible, Jesus once said, and I quote: Buy a man a fish and he can eat for a day. Teach a man to fish and he can eat for a lifetime." The young Ahroun gives a smirk as he kicks back against a tree. "This is two thousand sixteen, not the stone ages. Just because we get old and hurt, doesn't mean it's the end. I bet Dakota here who is a rites whore could teach you well until she is two hundred, and even if she gets to the point she can't teach, you want to pull the plug on her after all she has done for this Sept, just like that? We aren't trash to throw out. Fangs and Get may do that, but not us Gnawers. No. We take care of our own until their last breath."

Heartsinger says quietly, ~We'll all break at least one law in our lives.~ Then she crouches down by the two won stones and turns her ears to the talk but doesn't take part.

Felix, by contrast, looked rather pleased with the wordplay being confirmed, and somewhat thoughtful about the further discussion of Wisdom. Briefly. The implication that they're supposed to be the other side of the argument gets a grin, and he gets comfier again, twisting to rest his back against the tree's trunk and cross his legs along the branch. He listens to Slug's opening, taking a drag of what remains of his cigarette, and then Justin's, which he nods to. "Not to mention it ain't so obvious, with us; we get better from a lotta shit, sometimes when folks ain't even expectin'. An' like he says, what we got in our heads, that stays useful even if our body's dyin'. Not to mention, take your pick -- either they've earned rank an' respect in which case, first share of the kill for the greatest in station, feed that fucker, or they haven't or they've lost some, in which case respect those below you, all are of Gaia -- feed that fucker."

Justin leans over and gives Felix a fist bump.

Song-of-Ashes listens to the words of the Gnawer elder and his ears slant back. ~In the pack, when a wolf is too weak to hunt or tend the pups, then it is their time to die and make room for the new. But Garou aren't wolves. We are very few and very important. Shouldn't we keep others alive when we can? That seems to be the lessons we are taught. Garou must survive. The Alpha is always howling that.~

Felix reaches downward from his branch to meet his packmate's fist with his own, barely seeming to need to look.

"The Gnawers have what we have because of the charity of our Sept. If the work put into our Bawn came at the cost of defenses built on the Bawn, would you take it? When you don't have enough for everyone, you've got to make a tough choice- not always a fair one, but the best one that can be made." He jerks his head up. "What Ahroun would not fight to the death so that his pack might escape their's? What Ragabash would not question his own worth? It isn't a choice to be made lightly, but all of us made choices with other people's lives- if a wounded Garou decided to end his life for the good of his Sept, isn't that honorable? If a Garou asked you for mercy, would you not give it?"

Song-of-Ashes shifts his eyes away from Slug though his ears remain trained in his direction. ~If they choose to die, then I will not force them to live. What if they want to live? Doesn't the law suggest we should kill those who can't contribute? Didn't Garou once tear apart sept members who could no longer fight so their spirits returned to Gaia to be reborn? How can we do that now? If these are the last days, the warriors will not come back in time.~

"I'm an Ahroun and if I get to a point that I can't physically fight, then I would ask that I use my smarts to help aid my brothers and sisters in the battlefield. I wouldn't want you to pull the plug on me, or snap my neck, or cut my throat or whatever. I want my last breath to come when death itself is ready for me." Justin says as he folds his arms over his chest. "That is not a decision any of you assholes should make for me. Even if I go crazy in the head, you better still take care of me because I'm your friend, your packmate, your Septmate, because I /earned/ it with my claws and my heart that I gave to this Sept. We got kinfolk who can put a diaper on me and stick a bottle in my mouth if they gotta." He leans back against the tree Felix is in. "And if we don't got enough, then we figure out how to get it. Those laws were made when food was scarce and no one knew what the fuck they're doing. Now? You can use Grub Hub to get food delivered to you. You can use Uber to drive my crippled ass around if you can't do it yourself. The point is, there is ways to figure it out. You don't pull the plug on family, not unless they ask you to."

"But you ain't sayin' 'let someone die if he's ready'. You're sayin' 'if you get broke bad, die whether you're ready or not'," Felix says, "Now, what kinda guilt trip is that to lay on someone anyhow? Tellin' him he ain't no use an' is just a burden with nothin' to offer 'cause his body ain't what we'd wish? How sick's sick? Should Metis be offin' themselves soon's they learn that law since they ain't in perfect condition? If someone can't fight too good, or at all, should they kill themselves? Shit, we got people in perfect health ain't so hot on the front lines, in this nation. We ain't got so many folks to just start tellin' 'em they ain't needed for nothin', there ain't nothin' they can do."

"Maybe," Slug says to Song-of-Ashes. "But the law says, "Suffer Not Others to Tend My Sickness." He clears his throat. "I don't hear it like you kill every Garou who's down an arm, or a leg. I hear it and I think that you, not anyone else, but *you* judge *yourself*, because you know more than anyone else. Can you still fight? Can you still think? Can you contribute? Does your pack look at you and see a valued packmate, or do they look at you like an obligation, a shameful reminder of the Garou, the person you once were? I've known Garou that were blind, but could fight. I've seen Garou that were deformed and scarred all to hell, but they were useful still. The law doesn't mean that you shouldn't *try* to fight on, just that you realize the time might come when you are the weakest link in the chain, and if you aren't willing to remove yourself, because of pride, or fear- then you'll risk all that you've fought so hard to protect."

Justin points out rather bluntly, "Samantha is fucking useless even alive and breathing. Maybe we should ask her to kill herself since she can't do shit to actually /help/ us. She's more a burden than a one legged Silent Strider."

Pack> Justin says "Man, that was a sweet burn."

Song-of-Ashes considers the argument of the Ragabash and flicks his tongue over his nose. ~So not to kill the weak, but for the weak to know when they have done all they can and to make way for the next - like the wolf and their pack. I understand.~ And the Uktena seems satisfied in this.

Felix takes another long, slow drag, and exhales the smoke, then nods. "That's a way of puttin' it I reckon I could go with," he decides, "as long as we ain't makin' the decision that someone else ain't followin' that law. 'cause if we are, ain't we just back to killin' the weak again, abandonin' our wounded? Is it still law if we ain't enforcin' from outside, just on our honour an' judgement?"

"If you believe a Garou is weak but can be made stronger, it is your duty as a leader to make them strong, or persuade them to make themselves stronger," Slug says to Justin, pausing to light up a cigarette. "If a Garou knows themselves to be a weak point, they gotta figure out the right thing to do for themselves." Slug nods at Song-of-Ashes, then turns to Felix. "If a Garou kills needlessly, he does not Respect Those Beneath Him. If he throws away his troops, He Takes Action That Causes a Caern To Be Violated. If he kills the packmate or tribemate of another, he fails to Respect The Territory of Another."

Justin rolls his shoulders upwards in a shrug. "Either way, no one is taking me out of the game but myself. If you make that decision for me, you're an asshole."

Song-of-Ashes offers no further dispute and looks away enough that the curve of his neck is visible, physically conceding his argument. He does, however, retort to Justin, ~We are a pack. We die together.~

Felix pinches out the sorry butt of his cigarette, tucking it into his jacket pocket. "I get what you're sayin' with the laws there, an' I can go with that. But what I'm lookin' at now is, not is it wise or honourable to do somethin' about it when you've decided you honestly got nothin' left to offer but trouble, but whether it oughta be a =law=. You get caught breakin' any of the other laws, you're gonna get a smack to get you back in line. Pay for fuckin' up an' start doin' right, that's how it's meant to work, ain't it? If I think I got somethin' left to offer an' someone else don't, an' we've just agreed it's me who's gotta judge, then how can I be punished for breakin' the law, or even determined to be doin' it? An' if I can't, then should it be a law?"

Heartsinger has been listening closely to the back and forth among the other Garou. One is out, another maybe? At the counter from Felix the Theurge looks intrigued and turns to regard Slug curiously.

"Laws don't just exist to be enforced," Slug says, peering down at the embers of his cigarette. "They exist to remind us of what's most important, of the biggest decisions a Garou could make. Many of us grow up as men, we don't see things as Garou do, as wolves do, and we must be reminded that things aren't always as we'd like them to be, like we see them on TV, like we've read in books. It's important for the children of men to understand The Ways of the Wild, The Ways of the Pack- just as it is important that a child of man, or a Child of Gaia, should do their best to teach, to talk, to make a wolf or a Metis understand the compassion of a man's heart. The laws mean Garou, all Garou, talk and make one another see what they see, if only for a moment."

Felix pulls the Coke bottle back out of his pocket, and takes a few sips while Slug speaks, and another while he considers the reply. After several seconds, he nods slowly, then grins. "Yeah, a'right, sure. Still ain't sure it's really a =law= if there ain't no way to enforce it, but the point of the Litany bein' to remind us what matters an' try an' keep us all on the same page on that shit...? Yeah, okay. I'll buy that for a dollar."

Slug smiles at Felix around the filter of his cigaratte and bows his head, the smoke wafting up into his eyes. "Well, I'm glad I could make you see things a little differently."

Heartsinger turns her eyes on each of those present and lets the silence hang for a solid minute to give anyone one last chance to retort. When none are forthcoming, she places the final stone - the silver marked geode - next to the others. She rises up from where she crouches and turns her eyes to Slug. ~Well spoken. Your trials are completed and you have proven yourself worthy of the rank of Adren. There is a final step, but one more symbolic than one I can judge you upon.~ She gestures down to the stones. ~As a Ragabash, you choose your path. A new road lies ahead of you. What path will you choose - that of Glory, Wisdom, or Honor? And of the remaining two you do not choose, I suggest to you your first task as an Adren and as a leader among the Garou. Teach two others beneath your new rank a lesson befitting the path.~

Slug turns on Dakota and smiles, the broad and just slightly open sort of smile that crinkles one's eyes at the corners. He kneels down on a single leg and bows his head to her, then offers his hand, palm up. "Considerin' myself, and the Totem I follow... I believe I'll be choosing Wisdom, and hoping I'm wise enough to teach the other two lessons that I should have learned a long time ago."

Heartsinger reaches down to take up the stones and places the copper-branded black river stone into his palm. The others she places back into the pouch and offers it out to him. On the leather has been carefully burned in glyphs that spell out a name. ~I welcome you, brother. Your history has been full of darkness of both misfortune and your own choosing, but through it all you have prevailed. You, who Finds His Way On The Lightless Road.~

Slug takes the pouch by the neck and from the bottom, holding it with care. The black stone goes into one of his pockets, one hidden beneath the poncho, close to his body. "Thank you," he murmurs with a gracious bow of his head. "When I find someone in need of either lesson, I aim to teach them."

Felix grins down at the new Adren, and lifts his bottle in a small toast. "Congrats," he says, "Nice work an' all."

Heartsinger gives her short, dense black and white fur a shake before taking to her homid form and stretching out her arms. "Then I'll leave you go celebrate, ruminate, or take a well deserved nap. Thank you, too." She says with a tone strong with sincerity. "I know I wasn't your first choice but it was an honor to carry out your challenge."

"There's nothing wrong with being a second choice, or third. Sometimes it takes you a long time to settle on the right person," Slug says with a wink. And with that, the very tired Gnawer lopes off in the direction of the closest bed.