Werewolf: Chapter 3 "Carolina Moon"

[Cynical Cat]

"I said I wouldn't burn it if it spoke and I didn't," said Alex. "But that's all I promised. Over in the Umbra it's hurt and hurt bad. It won't be troubling anyone else for a while and if its unlucky it won't get the chance to heal."

[LadyTevar]

With the death of the last RavenMocker, the Wyrm-taint faded away leaving only the scent of wood smoke and falling leaves. Inside the cabin, the old man chanted softly to himself, glowing faintly in the noon light. Rather than seeming threatening, it was a warm, soft glow that was as soothing as a mother's touch. Surrounded by this gentle light, the old man's breathing and voice were getting stronger and clearer.

It was still several hours before the glow faded and the chanting stopped. Only then did the old man stir again, looking around at his rescuers. "Wahl... I guess I owe ya'll dinner." He sat up slowly on the bed. "First... I'd like ta warsh off," he added, making a face at his own scent of sweat and (past) illness. "If I smell this bad ta me, I know you Garou hate it."

He stood up, seemingly unashamed of his boxers and wifebeater-tee. Obviously, he was used to Garou and the sometimes loose clothing morals. "If one o' ya'll would start peelin' 'taters, I'll have us a fry-up."

[rhoenix]

Sees-Faces watched the old man in silence, seeming to smile as the elderly kin to Garou seemed to throw off his infirmity, and get up. However, Sees-Faces' eyes lit up at the mention of food.

"Taters?" he asked, his expression brightening. His entire bearing seemed to relax, showing him for the young wolf he was as his tail wagged at the very idea of food, his mouth beginning to water. "Cooked meat, too? I can help!"

With that, he reformed in a matter of moments into his homid form, that he called "Joe-Smith", looking both eager and very hungry.

[General Havoc]

She just wasn't up to an argument over this. Whether the Raven-mocker was dead, or merely wished it was, it was gone now, and from the sound of things inside, everything was returning to normal, or whatever normal was around here.

She walked back in in time to catch the old man suggesting dinner. Sees-Faces was, predictably, very excited with the idea, but she didn't want to think about what his idea of "helping" with potato peeling would look like. She doubted that he grasped the fine distinction between peeled and shredded-and-hurled-into-the-walls potatoes. Alex on the other hand probably either thought that the job was beneath him, or would want to use his sword.

Which, predictably, left only one person.

Reverting to Homid form with a thought, she walked over to what passed as a kitchen, turned on the faucet in the sink, and started to peel the potatoes herself, shaking her head as she did so and smiling as she thought, but didn't say aloud, something that came to mind. One day, when the glorious tales of this adventure were told, someone would probably sing songs about peeling the mighty potatoes.

Well, as long as they didn't try to attack her...

[Cynical Cat]

Alex rummaged around in the fridge and cupboard, looking for vegetables for a salad. "Hey Sees," he said. "Have you ever tried to cook human food?"

[LadyTevar]

The fridge was well-stocked with veggies, all of them had the look of garden-grown produce -- the carrots still had the feathery tops and tiny rootlets, the taters had to have dark soil scrubbed off, and the lettuce was large leaves, not a full head. The pantry was full of glass mason jars in various sizes, all clearly and carefully labeled with what it held and when it was canned.

By the time the old man came out, all three Garou were human and looking busy. "Hmph... yer not what I 'spected," he said, passing by SeesFaces/JoeSmith and into the kitchen. "None of ya'll are Uktena then? So why'd ya'll come help lil-old me?" As he talked, he opened the freezer and pulled out a white box with large letters in red proclaiming 'Buzz Buttered Steaks'. Politely he squeezed by Sophie with a soft "Pardon me" and bent down to open the oven door.

The crack from his back was audible, although the old man only grimaced as he pulled a large cast-iron skillet, black from long use. "Sorry 'bout that. Age, y'know." The iron skillet was set down on the largest burner and he pulled out frozen squares of chopped steak, each with a perfect pat of yellow butter atop. Six patties just did fit, butter-side down, in the skillet. The heat was turned on, and the old man turned his back to the stove to let them start cooking.

[Cynical Cat]

"We got a cryptic message that you might need help," said Alex. "And this situation might be relevant to another matter we're involved in." He moved over to the sink to wash the carrots. "Please excuse me for a second Sof. Thanks."

The kitchen knife danced in his hands as he began to work at the cutting board. "Now as a general rule one should never trust who indulges in cryptic double speak. They're either liars, deceivers, or opportunists and in general even worse than people who just speak in homilies, but we were running rather dry on clues. So we came and saw that you were in trouble. We took action." He shrugged. "What else would we do? Let some Wyrm corrupted spirits take you?"

[LadyTevar]

The old man grinned widely. "Blunt but well-spoken. And handy with a knife too, 'seems. Well, who'e'er gave you the cryptic message, thank 'em if you see 'em again." He paused to adjust the heat on the skillet and move the beef patties around to cook evenly. They were slowly shrinking as they cooked, filling the kitchen with the smell of hamburger-steak. "Anyhoo, 'less ya'll said while I was still feverish, I don't think I got ya'lls names. I'm Soaring Eagle, Uktena Kinfolk."

[rhoenix]

The usual somewhat disquietingly friendly grin was absent from "Joe-Smith"'s face as he faced the elder kinfolk directly, speaking solemnly in the Garou tongue. "I am Sees-Faces-In-Stars, Stargazer Theurge. I am honored to meet you, elder," he said with a respectful nod.

After that was done, he returned his attention to the dinner at hand, and his grin returned. "Can I help with dinner?"

[Cynical Cat]

"If you wish," said Alex. "It was your life he was gambling with. I would not be so . . . congenial if someone were to play such games with the life of a person close to me." He sliced and diced. "I am Alexander Stormwalker, Shadow Lord and child of Grandfather Thunder."

[General Havoc]

Oh boy...

The old man was Uktena, kinfolk of course, but still. This was where things were likely to get messy. Perhaps it was silly superstition and the usual clan mistrust, but Sophie had been warned, repeatedly, about what Uktena and Wendigo thought of non-native tribes in general, and Glasswalkers in specific. Several of the Chicago Glasswalkers had the scars to prove it. Not that she thought that likely here, but a less than thrilled reaction would not surprise her.

Well, there was nothing for it now, and besides, she hadn't come all this way to pretend that she was something else.

"My name's Sophie," she said, trying not to look up from the sink, watching the old man from the corner of her eye. "Philodox Glasswalker." She tried to sound as nonchalant as possible.

[LadyTevar]

"Now don't that beat all," Soaring Eagle said, shaking his head as he turned bad to the frying beef patties, grabbing a paper towel and laying out the finished squares to drain before putting six more down in the pan. "Shadow Lord, StarGazer, and GlassWalker, hmm? Odd pairing, but wha'er works for ya'll. Mz Sophie, if you'd slice those tater's thin, I'm almost ready fer 'em. Sees-Faces, would you mind setting out plates and forks on the table there?"

[General Havoc]

Well he didn't sound hostile at least, but then they had just saved his life after all, not to mention even if he had been hostile, no thinking kinsman would pick a fight, or even give cause for offense, to a werewolf, no matter how odious they found their company.

Live and let live, she supposed.

She did as she was told with the potatoes, slicing them as thinly as she could. Fine cuisine was not her forte, her cubhood "experiments" with various substances and the stove notwithstanding, but even she knew how to slice a potato.

[rhoenix]

Pacing himself carefully, "Joe-Smith" counted the number of people in the room to himself (though in Garou), and got the correct number of plates, and set them in front of each chair at the table. Once that was done, he took his time placing forks by each plate.

After spending his time making sure each setting was just right, he grinned at the elder kinfolk, and the other two of his new pack. "Done!"

[LadyTevar]

"Tha'll do fine, son," Soaring Eagle said, glancing back at SeesFaces with a smile before removing the last of the beef patties from the skillet. "Pardon me, Mz Sophie," he said, reaching over for the bowl of sliced potatoes and dumping them all into the beef-fat in the skillet. A billow of steam rose as the raw potatoes hit the fat but Soaring Eagle kept piling the sliced rounds until they nearly overflowed the skillet. Then he bent down (not without a pop an crackle of old bones), pulled a beat-up pot lid from the broiler-drawer under the oven, and slammed it down over the taters.

"There now, I'll check it inna bit and turn 'em over. I've sweet tea, milk, water, n' cola in th' fridge. Once th' taters cook, we'll sit down and eat, then ya'll kin tell me your tale. You're lookin' like there's more to it than jus' a friend checkin' up on me."

[Cynical Cat]

Alex poured himself a glass of water. "What will the rest of you be having?" he said while standing at the fridge.

[rhoenix]

Having been introduced to "sweet tea" by Hattie, Sees-Faces wrinkled his homid nose at the thought. "Water, please," he said to Alex, as he seated himself at the table.

Afterward, he closed his eyes, delicately sniffing the smells of dinner being made with a smile.

[Cynical Cat]

"We didn't even know your name until this night, but the aforementioned cryptic message said you might be of some help to us and that sooner was better than later," said Alex as he took a seat around the table. "So, do you know anything about an old mammoth bone fetish?"

[LadyTevar]

Soaring Eagle turned and looked at Alex in puzzlement. "I know o' a few bone fetishes," he admitted, puzzlement turning to curiosity. "I'm guessin' this 'friend' you keep mentioning said I'd know 'bout it?"

[Cynical Cat]

"Yeah, him," said Alex. "He implied you might be helpful."

[rhoenix]

"He didn't say that you might need help, though," Sees-Faces grinned at the elder.

"I don't know what its name is," he continued, looking a bit more serious, "but I know I made me suddenly see myself in a house consumed with fire."

[LadyTevar]

"A house on fire?" Soaring Eagle repeated, "You say the fetish made you see one? What else do you remember seeing?" He turned and lifted the lid off the skillet, releasing the scent of frying potatoes. Giving the rounds in the pan a quick stir, the elderly kinfolk added salt and pepper before putting the lid back on.

"Sometimes, fetishes have tasks for you to do, to prove yourself, before they accept you, but those are usually powerful fetishes to begin with." He met Alex's eyes for a moment, then closed his. "I unnerstand if ya'll don't want to tell me how you got it, but the more I know, the more I can help. Anything this friend told you, anything odd that's happened to ya'll. It can lead us where we're going."

[rhoenix]

"Joe Smith" squinted his eyes as he stared off into space, trying to remember, and then put it into Homid words. "...I remember being scared for children trapped inside. I remember feeling like I was searching for them, like it was the most important thing in the world right then. When I came out of it, it still felt like my fur was on fire."

Shaking himself, he sniffed delicately at the potatoes. "Do you have the tomato-blood-stuff that Homids like? It's great on taters," he said with a grin.

[General Havoc]

"There was more than just the fetish," said Sophie, chiming in at last. "The man who sent us here, he... told us a story." That wasn't really how it had happened, but the details weren't important just this second. "About a woman named Moriah. Have you ever heard of her?"

[LadyTevar]

For a moment there was silence, before the old man sighed heavily. "Now that's makin' a lot more sense. Ketchup's in th' fridge."

He turned back to the stove and stirred the potatoes again. Judging them done, he grabbed a bowl from the shelf and quickly lined it with paper towels before dumping the golden-brown rounds out of the skillet, setting it back on a cold burner and turning off the active one. He layered the beef steaks over the potatoes, to regain heat, and set the bowl on the table.

"Dig in, an' I'll tell ya'll 'bout Moriah Tallman."