stay the course.

[Lukas] (for the record, this is Wed night, cuz Sam is out of town at the mo)

[Sam Modine] Sam's only just getting home this evening. He's driven through the night but the anticipation as Katherine's car had been put away and he'd called a cab with a little of going away money from the elder Modines has made him just the least bit anticipatory. The Fenrir is in decent spirits despite the hardships of the trip and the long nights of travel. But he's refreshed too, there's been some catharsis and maybe he's got a few new nuggets of wisdom from his time away.

The driver is paid for the fare, not as outrageous as he'd figured to get from the city's heart to the Caern's. "Hey!" He waves at the staff working to fill the orders of a midweek dinner rush and heads upstairs, hungry but unwilling to interrupt while the restaurant when it's at it's busiest. Up the stairs instead long legs carry lean body. One hand still hanging slightly back behind on the railing golden blonde locks reveal themselves through the door, a wide look of the relief that comes with a successful trip heralding the homecoming of Mjollnir's Heart.

"Hey," To whomever's already in the common room before he drops his jacket and duffel bag off in the bedroom Sam shares with the swiftest of their number. If none of his packmates have already congregated there he'll knock on Lukas' door, call out to Samson and make a phone call to Caleb, if or when they've already assembled here on the second floor though the Modi will simply smile, and remark.

"So I've got news from back east if anyone's interested."

[Caleb Delacourt-Alden] Caleb had already begun his trip to the Brotherhood when the phone call from Sam had come. He'd responded with a simple "on my way," before the line went dead and several minutes later the Silver Fang's vehicle pulled up before the ad-hoc dormitory.

The balmy weather of approaching summer put the theurge in a good mood, since the humidity was reminiscent of his precious swamps. Still, he managed to dress in that safari-chic as usual despite the weather.

Soon enough he was coming up the back stairs and finding himself a place to sit.

[Lukas] "Yeah?" Lukas sets aside the magazine he's reading -- The Economist -- and looks up. "Welcome back," he adds.

(keepin' it short cuz ken's outta here soon!)

[Sam Modine] "Yeah," He responds.

"New York is in pretty good shape. You remember Resists-Coldest-Night? He's got his pack and this other new one from up in the Catskills on a full on leech extermination. They're actually making headway." This is good news, vampires had been more than a thorn in the side of the circle and every other pack in the city the entire time they'd known it. It's more than a morale boost for their eastern brethren to be making such gains. "I only just missed your Margrave, he'd been in the states for something or other out there, got some of the Fangs up on end a bit but Katherine and Edward's King seems to be willing to work with him." Sam concludes, "We're winning."

"Boston's...still Boston. Blood cults and Wyrm Mongers. The Gnawers and my people are doing what they can but they're just working without numbers, you know?" Unlike if The Modi had been saying this two months or even a month ago it doesn't sound like a suggestion they go back, rather just what it is. Passing the news on to his comrades. "Anyway, the Caerns are both holding strong up there, just seems like they keep fighting down a stalemate."

"How are things here?" That's the last of it, it seems for now. If there's more or anything pressing he'll get to it later, instead taking the opportunity to defer to Lukas.

[Caleb Delacourt-Alden] Caleb slowly shook his head. From Louisiana as he was, leeches were always a problem. They were better off as piles of ash on first sight rather than to ask questions. The truth of the matter was the less he had to deal with them, the better.

"The same, I would imagine," Caleb said in response to the question of how things were here.

[Lukas] "There was some question over whether or not we still deserve the patronage of the Talons," Lukas was ever one to get right into it, "after all the shit that's gone down in the past few months, culminating in us allowing our Alpha to die alone.

"Originally, I was in favor of relinquishing our claim to the Talons of Horus as a gesture of shame and contrition, and possibly reforming under a different totem. I spoke to Mrena though -- after her death -- and her counsel on the issue was this: if we no longer deserved the Talons, the Talons would have deserted us. Since they haven't, for us to desert them now... well; it's bad form.

"In light of that, I'm inclined to retain our bond to the Talons so long as the Talons would have us. But I'd hear your thoughts on the issue."

[Sampson Musembi] Sampson comes in response to his packmate's call, but the response is.. delayed. He enters the room quietly from what was previously Mrena's room, smelling of the unique Umbral air. Tonight he he sits on his haunches, fur short and black and glossy in the light of the room, sniffs at the messages, the lingering hints of jaws and cheeks rubbed on walls, furniture, maybe more.

[Sam Modine] "You're right." Sam's response is simple, nodded. "She is too."

He falls back into a seat and keeps his eyes on their current leader. "We've got a responsibility to uphold, a duty." And maybe it was fate that the flock hadn't left them even after their failure to save the young crescent moon. That alone is a dishonor the Modi would believe, to spit in the face of a great destiny.

"You'll lead us then? I mean until something changes?" This to Lukas, of course. The implication is he'll get no argument this time, but instead a quiet deference from the lanky full moon.

[Caleb Delacourt-Alden] "Lukas and I have already spoken on this matter, and I agree with him. To leave the Talons of Horus now would indeed be bad form, if not downright insulting to them. They have stuck with us thus far, and despite what we lack as totem benefits go we have managed so far without them. Indeed, in years past before the inventions of modern technology many packs didn't even have the convieniences we do now."

A light roll of his shoulders as he sat back on his armchair. It seemed that like Lukas, the armchair was his 'spot.'

"As far as leadership goes," he said with a nod toward Sam, "I support Lukas in this if it's what he wishes. The only thing left would be to determine whom would be beta between us."

[Caleb Delacourt-Alden] ( Okay, be back in roughly an hour or so. )

[Sampson Musembi] He'd chosen a spot to flop rather equidistant between his packmates, hadn't stayed to the outside edge of the gathering as sometimes is his choice.
A second later, his homid self is folded, all knees and elbows and ears again, dressed in whatever gift of Nike running clothes he's dedicated to replace whatever gift of Nike running clothes he shredded last battle.
They all sort of... look the same.
His head however whips over when Caleb says something in particular. There's a frown, sudden and severe. "What we.. lack? Do I hear criticism of Talons of Horus then?" Now he stands, and moves to the side, stares out the window at one end of the room, or rather at the curtain which keeps them in privacy.
There is a whole world beyond the curtain.

[Lukas] "No one's criticizing the Talons. We're criticizing ourselves for being unable to hold this pack together. We came to this city as eight; of those original eight, only three remain. That was our failure. Caleb bolsters our numbers to four, but Caleb was recruited by Mrena, so we can share none of that honor. And then all four of us failed, terribly, when Mrena met her end alone -- we, whose Totem stresses unity and numbers above all."

A pause. Then, an answer to Sam of sorts: "If we remain bonded under the Talons, I will lead this pack until a stronger Alpha joins or arises.

"If we no longer follow the Talons, then there are a number of possibilities: reform the four of us under a different banner, join a different pack as a block, break apart and join several different packs, etcetera. But I admit even were we to dissolve our ties to the Talons -- which seems to be something we'd rather avoid anyway -- I'd rather keep my bonds to the three of you."

[Sam Modine] Sam cannot imagine anymore being bonded to any other set of people. Even as they're bonded under a different avatar he still can't imagine Edward and Katherine and Dylan coming back to find themselves abandoned, nor is there even the consideration of another set of arrows steel and claws at his side in battle then those of the three other men here.

"You've got my support." The Modi reveals verbally after already stating as much without words.

"And I would rather find some fresh blood perhaps. There are at least a few of the locals that seem to want to better the place. And If we can find those the Talons would accept I think it might serve as something of a morale boost of sorts." They've got his vote, one derived from the subtly creeping realization that Edward is not the end of his own vision. That through himself, through Lukas and Sampson it can live on, even changed.

They are a pack of respect. Young turks who would overthrow rule only because they see a better future for the whole nation. A most auspicious group of men and beasts to be sure. This Sam concludes should not be the end of them.

[Sampson Musembi] "I am Owl's son. Talons of Horus is... a special totem to us, a tie to our ancestral home. As for our numbers, we always change. Talons are Change. Wyld chaos in flight and war.

So! Hold us as you will, Lukas. Add to our numbers where you see honor.
You are our Alpha, Gaia help us all."
The last is said with as much of a shit eating grin as he can manage, not nearly as hungry a grin as two weeks ago.

[Lukas] "Yeah," Lukas replies to Sam, "that was actually part of Mrena's last counsel, too.

"She said -- and I'm paraphrasing -- so long as we remain true to our ideals of unity and brotherhood, then even the recognition of our transgressions is a sort of keeping of the faith. She said since the Talons have not abandoned us, we should cleave to them, should seek out others who share our vision, and bring them into the fold.

"I didn't want her flout her last wishes without good reason, but I didn't want to singlehandedly set our future either. Since none of us seem desperately inclined otherwise ... are we agreed, then? We stay the course, hold to the Talons, and rebuild?"

[Sam Modine] "I'd have expected nothing less." This delivered as the greatest of compliments to his fellows, Caleb even gets a hand clapped over his shoulder and shaken in cameraderie, despite he newness of their knowing he seems to have passed the Fenrir's greatest test with his courage and his seeming prowess in the battle to avenge Mrena.

To Sam? That's enough to work from, the rest will come.

"What's next?" Sam's hands roll as though to move the conversation along. They certainly must have more business that needs attending and if they're decided then it might be best to keep moving.

[Sampson Musembi] "I have heard that those who leave a totem, as we often do as Striders in our travels, keep the bans all their lives, when there is need to leave and yet a feeling of unfinished or unsatisfaction in the leaving.
However.
I am not inclined to leave, no, though... I am Strider, and Owl calls often.
The road calls, often."

Another glance at the window, but this time, he pulls his eyes to aim at Lukas instead, forces his attention from Everything Over There to his alpha.
Still alpha. Still pack.

[Lukas] What's next?

"I would like to hold Mrena's Gathering for the Departed at the next moot. I don't think any of us know the Rite yet," an indication of what a young pack this is, perhaps, that they've yet to lose a single one of their number, "but there's enough time for us to learn.

"The most charismatic and spiritual of us should be the one to lead it. Sampson, if you don't mind, I think it should be you."

[Lukas] (ooc translation: sampson's got the highest charisma+ritual *LOL*)
to Sam Modine, Sampson Musembi, the devil

[Sampson Musembi] (BRB)

[Sam Modine] "I agree. I never really got all the way through one before she went." A thoughtful bob of his head has the ends of straw colored hair bouncing about his neck. "I'd hate to mess something like that up."

He nods, a proper gathering would be a good thing for them, unifying. Necessary.

"You can learn it in time, I hope?"

[Sampson Musembi] (god you poor fugly unlovable unritual peoples. *LOL*)
to Lukas, Sam Modine, the devil

[Sampson Musembi] Sampson's head jerks up as Lukas offers a great gift to him. "I will do so! The honor of her death rites touches me, Lukas, thank you. I will learn it in time!"
There is a poignant moment, which means a rather normal moment for a Silent Strider. Unlike Sampson though, it's a quiet one.
And... seriousness ends. Enough of that.
"Two things done. We are efficient tonight, Oh Great Leader our Leader."

[Lukas] Sampson gets a level, quelling look. Then, "While we're on the topic, we should discuss what we need to bring up at the moot.

"Originally we had some ... suspicions over the nature of Hatchet-rhya and Ryan-yuf's relationship. Ryan's dead now. Do we still broach the topic? I have my own thoughts, but -- I want to hear yours first."

[Sam Modine] "Honestly?" Sam replies. "I don't have much in the way of an idea of where you're going with this." His hands touch together at fingertips with forearms laid lazily over his knees. :But the Bone Gnawer was the last thing that ever defended our Alpha. Not us and not anybody else."

There's a long pause as he thinks. "If it's some sort of personal dirt I'd rather let it die with him. There is Glory and there is Honor in the way he ended and I don't think it's our place to change that." His eyes go back to meet Lukas. His opinion delivered he waits for the rest to weigh in.

He is after all as mentioned the least informed in the room on what they're talking about.

[Sampson Musembi] Lukas gets a totally innocent look. Ahrouns always quellin the raggies. Keepin them down.

Then Lukas brings up a point of nasty soreness. This time, there is no order or emergency stopping him from discussing the matter.
"That depends, Lukas. Is garou on garou action acceptable to the litany in a Fostern Fianna Filodox Truthcatcher? Is it acceptable for possible Litany breaking Fostern Fianna Filodox Truthcatcher to determine his own guilt or Litany-breaking status and that of the garou he lusts or loves after? Is it acceptable for a Fostern Fianna Filodox to hide his lusty love under a bush as if he were a ragabash Shadowlord cub to know no better?

Of course, I am only a ragabash! I am no philodox, to know better the ways of the Litany! Why don't you ask the Truthcatcher what is right and what is wrong?
Oh wait! Maybe!
He Doesn't Know."

[Lukas] Whatever Lukas thinks is, for the moment, concealed. He only recaps:

"So what Sam's saying -- and correct me if I'm wrong -- is that since the matter is past and done and one of the possible transgressors honorably dead, we should let the matter lie. Because it doesn't matter anymore, and as a personal favor, since Ryan-yuf died well with Mrena.

"And what Sampson's saying is that the matter is not past and done, because the living transgressor -- possible transgressor -- is the Truthcatcher of the Sept, a position that requires impeccable honor.

"Is that about right?" He looks between them. "What would you say to one another's points?"

[Sam Modine] [Intelligence//What precisely are we talking about?]

[Sam Modine] Oh.

Ohhh.

Ew.


Sampson speaks and graually Sam seems to put disparate pieces of a puzzle together as to what the other two are implying. "That's sick!" In response. Call it what you will but Sam's interpretation of the Litany is not incredibly liberal when it comes to social politics and perhaps it's rose colored blinders but before there'd never been any suspicion of such a thing on his part. "Well I suppose Sampson makes a point. If what the two of you say is true the Fian' should be held accountable for his actions. But I still wouldrather leave Ryan out of it. Yes, as you put it as a personal favor to him." He nods. "Is there a way we can accomplish both?"

[Sampson Musembi] "That Personal Favors are not given to excuse Litany breaking. We are Talons of Horus, and such a thing is dishonorable.
It does not matter who died, if he broke the Litany. It matters, that he died in battle against the Wyrm-- and if he is guilty, then his guilt! Is met and expunged with his death!
But!
That is for the Truthcatcher to decide! And YET! The office is..." His face twists in disgust. " I have no word for it now. "Polluted by a lover of another garou."

[Lukas] (gonna give ken a chance to catch up and post)

[Caleb Delacourt-Alden] "We are agreed," Caleb said to the other three men with a firm nod. As the sole remaining theurge of his pack, it ultimately fell upon him to keep the pack together spiritually no matter what. Without his counterpart things would be more difficult, but father never said life would be easy.

"I agree with you, Lukas. Sampson would be the best to learn and perform the Rite - a good person to learn it from would be the Bleeding-Heart, the mistress of rites. I have learned from her before and she is a wise woman." Nodding over to the Silent Strider. For some reason the entire notion of an Egyptian-hailing Garou leading a death-rite seemed appropriate no matter the man's charismatic attitude and auspice.

The next topic: Hatchet and Ryan.

Caleb's eyebrow quirked. From what the others said, he had his suspicions as well as the rest of them but since he knew neither man very well he had usually been silent on the issue. With the death of the Bone Gnawer however, Caleb merely shrugged. "Given the grief that Hatchet-rhya is most likely dealing with no matter his relationship with him, I say to let the dead rest in peace. To bring up such a notion before the Fianna could lead to bloodshed, and I think at this very moment we've seen enough bloodshed for a bit of a while.

"That said, a Philodox acting in a breach of the Litany? I do not claim to be a Half-Moon, but the Litany is vague on notions of homosexual interactions between two Garou. Since no metis offspring could be created from such a pairing, I would vote to let it lay for now." The matter of two male Garou participating in these acts didn't turn Caleb's stomach the way it might of Sam's or even Sampson's, but being that the cajun was a straight man it's just simply something that he couldn't comprehend and therefore would just let it be. If two men wanted to fuck each other, that's their business.

"Keep in mind however that it is quite possible for a man or woman that acts upon any carnal instincts to open himself up to the Thrall of the Defiler if carried too far. Of course that is generally more seen among metis.

"And indeed while we are children of the Talons of Horus, any acts among ourselves that prove dishonorable are to be dealt with. Our totem does not stipulate that we must police other Garou and their packs. That is a sept office if I am correct, and even so each pack must tend to their own before brought to the sept."

Caleb fell silent then.

[Lukas] With Caleb weighed in, Lukas nods and sits back.

"I agree. We're unanimous on the notion of letting the dead rest in peace. Whatever Ryan-yuf may or may not have done -- and I stress that as of now, we have no proof that what was between them was ever physical -- he died in combat, and he died, as Sam says, defending our Alpha. Even were it not for his hero's death, he deserves silence from us.

"As for challenging Hatchet's fitness as Truthcatcher due to his possible transgression -- Sampson is for it because he believes the Litany was broken; Caleb is against it because he believes it was not, and because he believes it's none of our business. Sam? You seemed uncertain. What's your final say?"

[Sam Modine] "Perhaps," this is nodded in return to Caleb speaking. There's some wisdom there and it goes much to Sam's original point.

Lukas speaks up, offers Sam the chance at having the final say. The issue to him had been allowing the Ahroun to be allowed the honor the Fenrir believes he's earned in death. That much has been settled. The question now is on the past transgressions of the living. Hi has him sit back for a moment, really thinking this through. He takes some time to just be silent and once again leans forward and looks across to their newest Alpha. "We have no proof?" After whatever silent or spoken assurance to that is given there's a brief pause.

"Then we do as we always have. We keep an eye out for dishonor and should Buried-Hatchet-rhya prove himself not fit for the position we shall find means to rechallenge him for the position and take care of it through the proper channels." The Modi's throat is cleared. "Until then, He's nothing but a Garou who's fought hard at our side, offered us aid when we needed it and arbitrated our disputes in Katherine's absence even when he wasn't bound to."

Finally-

"I vote we keep this to ourselves for now."

[Sampson Musembi] It is NOT true that no one speaks or that ther eis no spoken assurance of no proof. Samspon speaks.

Every hair on Sampson's body rises at once as Caleb begin speaking of Hatchet, for here is a deep, deep breach.
The Strider, Ragabash though he is, is an honorable man, and more than that, he's quite a Traditionalist.

"The Traditions which I follow are the older ways. It is what drew me first to this pack in the first place, for as much as my no moon soul makes me push, the Litany and garou traditions ground me firmly.
I am sorry to say, that I cannot reconcile my honor with staying in a sept with a dishonorable Truthcatcher. I could never trust his word with this accusation unanswered. I have seen what I ahve seen. I have seen the love for a woman on the face of a man looking at a male garou, so much that he cried out when the one he loved stood to leave.

Hatchet is a Philodox. He is Fostern. He holds a sacred office of Honor in our sept.

Nearly immediately, my alpha ordered me, though my alpha also had reason to comment on an inappropriate relationship, to not accuse him jsut then, though I chose a ragabash's way instead. My goading could not get a rise out of him, and he SHOULD have, for I poked him hard as a Ragabash does to defend himself. He became angry, and yet did not speak. He SHOULD have attacked me. He SHOULD have demanded I challenge him. He SHOULD have taken righteous indignation over the veiled thrusts I offered, for I know my auspice's moon well.


We are none of us Philodoxes. It is not for us to prove or disprove. However, the suspicion of this level of crime is NOT for us to hide. It is NOt for us to convict him etiher, but we are of Talons of Horus, and it is not for us to act the pack of Cunning and overlook a Litany Transgression fo this magnitude.
We are a pack of Honor.
Honor.
Mrena is dead, and not one of us were there.
Can we serve in a sept where the Truthcatcher may be making mockery of Honor??
I cannot.
Ragabashes exist to show flaws, to mock to expose weakness. I cannot agree to cover this dishonor, and stay to smell the stench of it."

Sampson braces himself for the pain of what may come next. His eyes turn to Lukas, waiting for the Alpha to speak.

[Caleb Delacourt-Alden] The way Sampson thus had spoken was as if that the Silver Fang, Shadow Lord, and Get of Fenris did not have equally ancient traditions hailing back to before the tribes even knew that the Americas existed. Even long before the Vikings began to navigate the world on their long seafaring vessels, even long before the Balkans and Carpathians came down from their mountains. Even long before the Iron Curtain was established in Russia expelling many of it's Silver Fang inhabitants.

"So are you implying that should we choose to overlook whatever breaches of Litany, slim though they may be given what Balance-Without-Fault would rule - as being one of the only other Philodoxes present, he certainly would be the one with final say - that should we choose to keep silent or overlook what has happened between these two Garou, that we ourselves are making a mockery of Honor just as you would accuse Buried-Hatchet of doing?"

An eyebrow quirked, and the cajun looked on intently at the Ragabash. It was not his lot to question and bring light to matters as the No-Moons do, but Caleb still had to ask, for if they kept silent on the matter then would it mean that they themselves mock the path of acting with honor as well?

"We, all of us, are not suggesting to try and cover it up as though a scandal. For myself I wish to let the dead rest, and the dead cannot if we call Buried-Hatchet to account for it will inevitably mean bringing the Bone Gnawer into the situation. We follow a totem of Respect, of Honor. What honor would we bring then by disturbing the rest of the departed; what respect?

"Among my own kind tolerance is something ill-come by in many forms, but in this I maintain my original stance. We do not know the truth of the matter, unless some of us have watched the two of them together in secret. They are were and are not our packmates. Charaching is something to be dealt with mercilessly, but in light of recent events I think we have more to worry about other than whom Buried-Hatchet is sleeping with at the present time. Aside, metis offspring as I have earlier said, cannot come from such a pairing. If it were possible, then I would agree that it must be revealed for all. Since it is not? Let it lay. We have our own to tend, or then do we as a pack come to be the fictional Big Brother that is written of in George Orwell's novel, [i]1984{/i]?"

[Lukas] The Shadow Lord scarcely moves. He sits relaxed in his favorite spot on the couch, one foot propped against the edge of the coffee table, his back slouched down until his head rests against the cushions, his hands laced over his stomach.

His eyes are alert and sharp, though. They flick to Sam; to Sampson; to Caleb. He doesn't say anything this time -- waits to see what more might be said.

[Sam Modine] "Sorry."

To Sampson. There's a finality in the tone, these are his last words of debate on the subject if that tone is to believed and when besides have they ever known Sam to be anything but straightforward. There's no angry tension in him or beyond that any pique in his Rage but it would seem hie's to the point where he'll participate no more in the debate following the words.

"I'm with Caleb on this." Beat. "Let it go."

[Lukas] A quiet interjection: "Let Sampson speak." And the cool eyes are on the Strider now, waiting for a rebuttal.

[Sampson Musembi] "Do you not say on one hand, that we do not cover it up? And yet what is a cover up but a refusal to expose truth?
It is my duty as Ragabash to expose weakness to the light of Helios, of Luna.
Is the Sept of Maelstrom not weakened by the lack of truth in its Truthcatcher?
Is the pack of Buried Hatchet not weakened by the lack fo truth in its alpha?
Is the Sept of Maelstrom to be allowed to be weakened in order to protect the potentially uncovered sins of a garou who died in battle?
Is the pack of the Unbroken Circle weakened if we have no truthcatcher to strengthen the Honor of the Sept?
We are not supposed to hold, in one pack, the honor of the Sept, it is true. The one who IS supposed to hold this honor--

May be a charach.
I cannot let it go.
My soul cannot fit into this road, my packmates."

Ahhh, sadness. His face is horribly tense, as a new grief threatens.

[Caleb Delacourt-Alden] "A cover up," Caleb began, "is when you work to keep the truth hidden. We are not looking to expose the truth nor to bury it deeper in secret." A deep inhallation of breath, as Caleb idly looked to see if he's brought any cognac with him. Alas for he hadn't thought of it in coming up the stairs.

Sitting with steepled fingers, Caleb scrutinized the Nandi runner over them and cocked an eyebrow.

"I will not begin to tell you what the duties of a Ragabash are, because I cannot know them, but we are close in moons, Sampson, so I may have some knowledge of truth and secrets in a different manner than a Philodox or a Ragabash.

"Omission of truth is not lying, so then how could it be that Buried-Hatchet will be weakened as a Truthcatcher? Perhaps, as he views it, his actions were not a breach in the Litany at all. We each interpret the Litany in our own way, yet Philodoxes know it in their hearts more than we. Perhaps to him it is not a breach - are we to tell a Philodox his business, as we have no Philodox of our own at the present?

"Buried-Hatchet's pack is not our concern until such a time as it is made our concern, and I believe that whatever strengths or weaknesses Weasel's Gang may possess that if we speak the business of another man's pack for all to hear that we will be seen as schemers and plotters, looking to overthrow another pack by deeds that we each are unsure of even occured.

"The Sept of Maelstrom will be protected with or without one man, whatever his office. The sins of two men are still the sins of two men. Would you then go to another sept and say to them that if they have had Garou in the past that have charached, would that then mean that they are weak? -Yuf, I think you would have the makings of many challenges on your hands.

"I have lived here in this sept for longer than you have, Monsieur Musembi, and yet whatever disaster has struck the Sept of Maelstrom has endured and lived on."

A slow intake of breath as he shook his head. "If you cannot follow this path, then follow where the Talons of Horus lead you and your own heart may lead, but I stand firm and will not bow."

[Sam Modine] There's no bottom to the depths of a Fenrir's stubbornness once piqued it's been said. This is no different. Sam has already spoken his last on the subject and remains silent. Impassively looking between the two as the debate becomes more spirited. Once every few seconds a look is thrown to Lukas and how he's gauging it as well.

But there is no more voiced. A ballot for this member of the Circle has already been cast.

[Lukas] "Okay. Enough."

Lukas unlaces his hands from over his stomach and sits up; sits forward. There's something of irritation or disdain shadowing his face, controlled.

"Here's how I see it. First, we have no Philodox in this pack. We can argue until we're blue in the face about whether or not homosexual Charaching qualifies as a Litany breach. Until we get a ruling from a neutral Half-Moon, it means nothing.

"Second, even if it is a Litany breach, we have no proof of what Hatchet-rhya may or may not have done. This isn't bible school; the thought is not the same as the action. A longing glance is one thing; actually fucking the man is another. And with Ryan-yuf dead, I'd say we're pretty unlikely to ever get proof.

"I agree with Caleb in that we have more important things to do than police other packs. I'm not a goddamn Judge of Doom. Sam isn't a Hand of Tyr. It's generally not our business. At the same time, I agree with Sampson: this is a special case because Hatchet is an officer of the Sept, and his office in particular requires the strictest adherence to the Law.

"So this is what we're going to do. First, we're going to find a neutral Philodox and -- discreetly, naming no names -- have the issue of homosexual Charaching clarified.

"If it is indeed a breach of the Litany, we confront Hatchet directly, in private, with a Philodox present. If it turns out he has broken the Litany, then and only then do we bring this before the Sept. And then we let the Half-Moons and the elders of the Sept decide what, if anything, to do about it.

"Are we clear?"

Lukas looks around at all three faces until he's certain his words have sunk in, his eyes sharp and clear. Only when he's received some sign of acquiescence or agreement from all does he go on.

[Sampson Musembi] "Exactly. I am clear. Your plan satisfies."
He is clear, and he waits, watching Lukas rather intently.
The plan pretty much satisfies everything, in fact. The Wanderlust eases back-- some.

[Caleb Delacourt-Alden] Caleb's eyebrow raises another trifle. That may be perhaps the shortest sentence he ever heard Sampson utter.

Turning his attention to Lukas, he nodded a touch. "That seems a fine arrangement to me."

[Sam Modine] "Works." Sam nods too.

Moving on, it would seem. "What's next?"

[Sampson Musembi] (Ok time for bed. Night guys! its nearly 2 am here!)
to ..., Caleb Delacourt-Alden, liar, Lukas, Sam Modine

[Lukas] Moving on...

"I haven't quite finished." Lukas isn't even trying very hard to hide his irritation now. "Sampson, you'd leave your pack because you disagree with Caleb over something both of you have only an amateur's grasp of? Really? And Caleb, you would stand firm and not bow even if it means losing your brother? How can the both of you claim to honor the Talons' unity when you're so eager to splinter the pack for the sake of your pride?

"Let me remind you of our name. Unbroken Circle. We didn't pick it out of a goddamn hat."

A beat. A held stare, ferocious, ten endless seconds on each of the men. Then -- finally -- Lukas lets the subject drop.

"Next: Andrew. Caleb has a bone to pick with his honor -- he should probably be the one to talk about it."

[Caleb Delacourt-Alden] ( Night share! *waves* )

[Caleb Delacourt-Alden] Caleb nodded in acquiescance to Lukas' words. There was no more needed on the subject - the Ahroun's decision on how to procede made sense to him. Thus, the topic of Andrew:

"I have spoken of this subject to some of you, but for those I haven't I'll start from the beginning." Sitting forward in his chair, Caleb sat a bit straighter in his chair while looking between the three men.

"Before I came to join you three fine gentleman," the theurge said, "I had been propositioned to pack with another theurge. A Bone Gnawer by the man of Erick Wujcik. For time's sake, I will make it short and say that inevitably the two of us bonded under Hummingbird.

"Things were fine, of course, until the night Erick told me that he was going to speak with Andrew Dances-on-Fire over the matter of a Kinfolk woman of the Child of Gaia's tribe. Erick Barcode is no young boy to be guided by the hand, so I nodded and let him do what he needed to do.

"The end result was that my former packmate was killed in what I believe to be cold blood over this very same Kinfolk woman. I spoke to Milo Maevsky about the matter at Lukas' advice to try and see more of what kind of man Andrew Dances-on-Fire is, since the Lupus tried to claim the Shadow Lord Milo's sister or some such. After my talk with Milo, he has agreed to stand with me on this matter and tell his part.

"I have also questioned Andrew, and most of what he had to say was 'Yes, I killed him.' Killed him, not in proper combat before the Master of Challenges. Without even a presiding impartial Philodox. In a back-alley next to a liquor store of all places.

"Andrew is supposed to be a theurge, but in his actions he behaves as a Full-Moon. Indeed in a challenge he even had to be taught the required Rite in order to even engage in that challenge by our late alpha, of whom was the other party of that challenge. That is it, in a nutshell."

[Sam Modine] "You already know my feelings on the cow-herder." Sam's lip turns upward throughout the story, old bitterness rising to he surface. "If he's a murderer then it's our duty to drag him by the hackles in front of somebody who can arbitrate justice."

The Fenrir's voice is sure, strong. Personal bias drips in all of it but he claimed at the beginning of his chance to speak nothing else. Still, rather than suggesting a lynch mob in kind he keeps the Rage down and asks after a similar solution to the last one.

Find a Judge.

[Lukas] "It's easy to put all the blame on Andrew and talk about how we'll drag him before the judges," Lukas replies, "but it doesn't actually help matters.

"We need to know what happened, as exactly as possible. We need to know what Erick might have done to provoke the encounter. I don't mean to cast mud at your slain packmate, Caleb," a glance at the Theurge, "but if we're going to bring this before the Sept, we need to seal as many loopholes as we can."

[Caleb Delacourt-Alden] "It's a bit too late to use a Death's Dust talen," Caleb said. "I lack any skill in making fetishes that may help us to that end, or making any fetishes."

The most Caleb could do is try to locate the Ivory Priesthood, but such a sect within his people he would not talk about willingly. Even among his own they were distrusted.

"Even if Erick may have provoked the encounter, a theurge weighs Wisdom heavier than any. Where is the wisdom of killing another Garou when a mere sound beating would of sufficed?"

[Sam Modine] "Caleb," Softly. The Modi's hand reaches out to touch his newest packmate on the shoulder. Long bony fingers pat there twice before settling. "There isn't any but as you've already argued tonight, Should we be the ones going forward to ask for punishment we must above all things make sure it's just."

He speaks well tonight, after all it's near all he's been doing for a week. Speaking, learning, consoling and then trading stories at no fewer than three Septs on the way home and finally talking through the night with his father and catching up on nearly six years of lost facetime. "I don't like him any more than you, so I suggest both that we follow Lukas' directive on this one and hear the Lupus out, then seek the advice and the counsel of Hatchet-rhya or whatever Philodox you'd like, really." Finally. "If it's just you'll have your and your friend's satisfaction. If we are not we save ourselves face by not doing this at a moot in front of the whole sept."

[Caleb Delacourt-Alden] ( Alright guys I need to jet. Continue later? )

[Lukas] "It's not about whether or not it would be right for Andrew to defend himself by accusing Erick of wrongdoing," Lukas adds, "but that he might, and that it might buy him leniency.

"If you don't know anything about what happened except that it happened, then there's two things to do. At least one of us should go to the Battleground Realm and watch the battle for ourselves. I'd suggest that Caleb and Sam do this together -- Sam for his martial expertise, Caleb because he's the one with the grievance.

"One of us should also talk to Andrew-rhya directly, to learn as much as we can. I'll do this myself, since he's likely to be better disposed toward me than either of you.

"If either of you want to seek the advice of a Philodox, though, I'd suggest not choosing Hatchet for the moment. I'll find a neutral philodox and broach the question of the Litany first, though. It wouldn't help for one of us to be seeking Hatchet's counsel if later on we end up dragging him before the Sept." A shrug. "Looks like implicit acknowledgment of his ability to do exactly what we're accusing him of being unable to do: interpret the law."