iron tooth.

-iron tooth-

"Ugh," the young Guardian says, obviously balking, "he's really not very nice."

Nevertheless, directions were requested and directions are given. Avery is directed to turn around, to drive out of the tiny town toward the Sept. Halfway back to the border of the Bawn, there's an inconspicuous turnoff all but hidden amongst impressive red sandstone formations. Turning onto this unpaved, unmarked side road, Avery then proceeds down about a mile's worth of narrow passes between stony outcroppings and blind turns around sheer rock faces. It is a consummately perilous approach for any would-be attacker, full of choke points and ambushes. At the last five hundred feet or so, the road becomes so narrow that she and the Guardian are obliged to continue on foot.

At last, they come within sight of Iron Tooth's den. It is sheltered in a narrow valley between two looming rock formations, its back to the cliff faces: a small house, low and squat, almost impenetrably built of strongly mortared stone. There is no sense of welcome at all; no welcome mats, no flowers in the windows, no open shades, nothing.

A pair of great stone wolves ward the door. Faint spiritual energy, malevolent and vicious, emanates from the statuary as Avery passes. She can be quite certain that those wolves might well come to life or vomit forth powerful guardian-spirits if needed. The front door itself is heavy and reinforced, several inches thick. It swings open as she and the reluctant Guardian approach.

Iron Tooth stands in the doorframe: enormous, scarred, beetlebrowed. He does not smile, and he does not greet them: merely glowers, waiting for one or the other to speak.

Behind him, what Avery can see of his home looks dark, shadowed, silent and still. So far as she can tell, there is no one else home.

Reverence of Dawn

Avery can't help but smile. She doesn't expect him to be very nice. Then again: 'nice' is a word that makes her think of that awful tattooed man whose skull she has in a hatbox, and what she said to him.

They drive, and then they stop driving and walk. Avery looks at the rock on either side, the stone house, the spirit-laced wolves at the door. She thinks of a Ragabash of low rank 'breaking in' to the den of a much higher-ranked Theurge and sets that thought aside for now. No sense leading herself to one conclusion at the expense of all others.

The door opens, and Avery stops her steps several feet from the entry.

"Rhya," she says, inclining her head deeply, not even using his deed name. "My name is Reverence of Dawn, and I have been charged with discovering the nature of Midsummer's Shadow's crime, finding him, judging him, and punishing him if necessary. To that end, will you speak with me?"

-iron tooth-

The house is stone. The surrounding terrain is stone. The wolf himself appears to be stone as well, slow and heavy of thought and motion. A rolling in his cheek: his tongue eking along his molars, his canines. He makes a clicking sound, then steps out of his house

rather than inviting her in.

"You don't need to do any of that," Iron Tooth rumbles. "I will do all those things in time. But if you want to make yourself useful to me, you may find him for me."

Reverence of Dawn

Avery says nothing for a moment, then, quietly: "No, Rhya." Her tone is soft. "I will carry out the challenge that has been set before me. It is my duty, my responsibility, and my privilege as a Philodox of his tribe, and I am doing them now." Not 'in time'. Not according to the dictates of a Theurge of another tribe. "If you cannot be of assistance to me to that end, I will not waste any more of your time."

-iron tooth-

Iron Tooth blasts a snort. "So, my personal tragedy has become a learning tool for the Sept? A challenge." He eyes her. "What are you, a Cliath going for her Fosternhood?"

Reverence of Dawn

[Empathy!]

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (3, 3, 3, 6, 6) ( success x 2 )

-iron tooth-

[Contemptuous toward Avery. Angry more than grieving, re: the loss of his mate -- but a slow-seething sort of anger, the kind that lends itself well to long-term plans of vengeance and the like.]

Reverence of Dawn

Avery is watching him carefully, standing just slightly in front of the guardian who is with her, hardly an unconscious choice. She focuses on why she came here:

"Yes," she says simply. "Rhya, I have been told Midsummer's Shadow broke into your den. How did he do so without your guardian spirits alerting you or neutralizing him?"

-iron tooth-

There's something shuttered about Iron Tooth's expression. "That's a good question, isn't it? I would love to know the answer myself. Perhaps you can ask the whelp if and when you find him.

"Speaking of which: I will allow you to indulge in this learning experiment of yours. By all means, discover his crime, find him, judge him, punish him. But when you are finished, I will expect you to bring him back to the Sept. To me. Is that understood?"

Reverence of Dawn

Avery's brows furrow together for a small moment. "Rhya, with all due respect, I cannot agree to that. Should you like to see the terms of my challenge altered, I must submit to Anvil of Justice-rhya. You should approach him instead."

-iron tooth-

A dead silence. A flat stare.

"You would be wise not to cross me, Cliath. Fulfill your challenge. But when you are done, it would be to your advantage to bring the useless sack of flesh to me. I'm good to my friends. Less so to my enemies."

Reverence of Dawn

"That is perfectly understood, Rhya," she tells him calmly. "If you are willing, I have further questions."

-iron tooth-

An impatient wave of the hand answers Avery.

Reverence of Dawn

Her questions are, at least at first, quite simple:

"What is your mate's name?"

"Where is her family?"

"Does she have any friends within or outside of the sept?" Followed, of course, by a who are they if the answer is yes.

"When did you meet her?"

"Was she a good mate?"

There the questions about the lost mate, the tragedy, end.

--

And begin the questions about Midsummer's Shadow: "I have heard rumors and hearsay only, and the words of Anvil of Justice-rhya and the packmates of the accused. What, as you see it, is the nature of his crime?"

Reverence of Dawn

[For the record: Truth of Gaia is still active!]

-iron tooth-

Iron Tooth's mouth twists when his mate's name is asked. "What does it matter?" he snaps. It is not the anger of grief; it is something far more callous than that: genuine apathy. "She is dead. The dead have no names."

And if Avery presses --

"She was called Ilyana Zhevenkova. I don't remember where her family is from. Some backwater Siberian village, no doubt. While she lived she sometimes visited the kin of my packmates. For the most part she stayed at home and kept my house as she should.

"She was promised to me when I reached Fosternhood. I met her a month after. She was a pretty thing. I was young enough to be swayed by such things. I brought her home and we were mated, and that was that.

"As for her worth: she was quiet, she knew her place, she never caused trouble. She did what she could to make my life better. But she was a skinny, frail creature. I used to be charmed by it. How small she was, how easily I could lift her." A pause here. A narrowing of his eyes; some subtle expression coloring those flat, dark eyes. A flickering of remembered lust. Perhaps just a hint of -- fondness, even, would be too strong a word. But something of the same lineage. Then it fades. "Foolish of me. It only meant she was weak. Dissolved into tears at the slightest criticism. Never bore me any cubs at all.

"Truth is, Cliath, I would have been glad to be rid of her if she had succumbed to illness or accident. Whoever is promised to me next will be far superior, I have no doubt. But the problem is, she did not fall sick. She did not die by an act of Gaia.

"She. Was. Taken from me. And that, my young friend, is the nature of Midsummer's crime. He saw, he coveted, he dared steal from me. He took what was mine and he broke it. I'll see him flayed alive for it."

Reverence of Dawn

what does it matter?I don't rememberpromised to mea pretty thingweakglad to be rid of herwhat was minebrokeit

He is horrible. And Avery despises him. She is repulsed by him; he is a holdover from a sickening time in their history, a shuffling remnant of what was weakest and most damaging about their kind and has forever altered the course of their existence, a fragile ego clinging to grotesque, masturbatory fairy tales of what it means to be garou. It disgusts her how happily so many garou hold to these ideas, call them ideals, teach them to their children, perpetuate them, keeping their entire race on a path meant for extinction.

She despises him, and she disdains him, and it says something of her own slight coldness that she sees him as pathetic without pitying him. Pity might indicate compassion.

All the same, when he has finished answering, she says: "Rhya, thank you for your time. I have one last question." And by god is it a delicate one.

"Was there a body, or any parts of a body, remaining in your den when the break-in and blood were discovered?"

Reverence of Dawn

[ARGH LINE BREAKS]

Reverence of Dawn

what does it matter?

I don't remember

promised to me

a pretty thing

weak

glad to be rid of her

what was mine

broke

it

He is horrible. And Avery despises him. She is repulsed by him; he is a holdover from a sickening time in their history, a shuffling remnant of what was weakest and most damaging about their kind and has forever altered the course of their existence, a fragile ego clinging to grotesque, masturbatory fairy tales of what it means to be garou. It disgusts her how happily so many garou hold to these ideas, call them ideals, teach them to their children, perpetuate them, keeping their entire race on a path meant for extinction.

She despises him, and she disdains him, and it says something of her own slight coldness that she sees him as pathetic without pitying him. Pity might indicate compassion.

All the same, when he has finished answering, she says: "Rhya, thank you for your time. I have one last question.

"Was there a body, or any parts of a body, remaining in your den when the break-in and blood were discovered?"

-iron tooth-

It is a blunt, terrible question to ask a grieving mate. But then: Iron Tooth is hardly grieving, and the question hardly seems to touch him.

"No," he replies flatly. "I suppose he carried the corpse away to be rid of it. For all I know he ate the remains like the inbred dog he is. What does it matter? He cannot hide his crime, and we're not humans who require evidence.

"Find him for me, Cliath. You'll be generously rewarded."

Reverence of Dawn

[Nix the part where Avery says 'one last question'!]

Reverence of Dawn

Avery feels her rage spike when Iron Tooth refers to a member of her tribe as an inbred dog. A part of her wants to go for his throat. The rest of her is too wise to allow that.

"Rhya, whether carried away or devoured, I ask you for something of your mate's -- hair from a comb, perhaps -- and use what rites are available to us to discover where they lead me. The dead may have no names, as you said it, but I would prefer to exhaust every possibility."

-iron tooth-

Iron Tooth looks irritated. Inconvenienced, even. He grimaces, and then he turns and thrusts open his door.

"Wait here," he says over his shoulder, through the closing door.

The Adren is gone for a handful of minutes. In that time, the Guardian standing silent and cowed beside-and-behind Avery shifts her weight nervously from foot to foot. Occasionally she darts glances at Avery. Finally she dares to whisper: I told you he isn't very nice.

Presently the door opens again. Iron Tooth tosses something at Avery: a simple, thin bracelet, pretty and well-cared-for, but merely plated gold by its weight.

"Her mother or aunt or something like that gave that to her. She wore it frequently. If anything might help you find her remains, that might. But I wouldn't hold out much hope."

He starts to close the door. This time he stays behind it.

Reverence of Dawn

A spike of elation to equal her rage, then. She doesn't think she can trust him, but it is something to start with. She shushes the guardian softly, and

elegantly, easily catches the item thrown at her when it glitters through the air. She looks at it, feels it in her hand, then looks back to Iron Tooth for a moment. "My thanks, Rhya," she says. He closes the door, and Avery folds the bracelet into her hand, turning to the guardian.

"Walk ahead of me. If you know someone who has the rite of the questing stone, we go to them next."

-iron tooth-

Guardian though she is, the girl seems grateful -- if a little ashamed -- to dart ahead of Avery. They walk back the way they came, down that narrow, winding, rock-crowded path back to the car.

There's a tiny hesitation. Then, sounding like she wishes it weren't true, the Guardian (whom we should really name. Let's called her Bright Spear.) volunteers:

"Um. I know that Rite, Rhya."

Reverence of Dawn

It's only a slight precaution, but it's one she's glad makes the guardian feel more at ease. The guardian who is, after all, helping her so greatly. Avery smiles and places her hand on Bright Spear's shoulder as they approach the Juke, which has dust and even some mud all over its undercarriage and wheels now. "Perfect," she says. "Then we shall go immediately. If you are hungry or thirsty I have water bottles and some snacks in the back of my car, but we will waste no time."

A sidebar, as they approach: "And I am not your Rhya yet, Bright Spear."

-iron tooth-

"Snacks. Awesome. I hope you have Rice Krispie Treats. And, your rank says you aren't my Rhya yet? But you kinda are." Bright Spear grins at Avery as they come around the last bend to find the Juke where they left it. "Just get used to it."

--

In the car, Bright Spear immediately helps herself to snacks. She's not shy about this: she grabs whatever is sugarladen, rips it open, sinks her teeth in with an almost-indecent moan. "You have no idea," she says through a mouthful of food, "how long it's been since I've had junk food. They're so uptight about stuff like that for us junior Guardians. Like it's gonna corrupt our bodies and spirits or something."

Whatever tidbit she laid her hands on is already gone, devoured. Bright Spear looks about for a place to stuff the trash, then buckles herself in.

"You got any string in this car? And can I borrow an earring from you? Or if you're wearing a necklace I could just use that as a Questing Stone. Who are we looking for?"

Reverence of Dawn

There are two containers in the back of Avery's car: a cooler and a fabric-covered box. In the former are bottles of water, a couple of energy drinks, and some juice. In the latter are granola bars (crunchy as well as chewy), some dried fruit, some beef jerky, and a couple of other nonperishables. Nothing quite as decadent as a Rice Krispie treat, for which she apologizes to Bright Spear before they even get there, but some of the granola bars have chocolate chips in them.

Before they get there, though, she's smiling to herself at the guardian insisting she's already sorta her rhya. She quietly insists that she's not, but the truth is, that's only her being respectful of the fact that she has not attained her rank yet. She knows what Bright Spear means, and it is encouraging... especially after an encounter like that.

--

Her mouth quirks to the side as Bright Spear digs into the chocolate-chip-peanut-butter 'protein' bar that gives the sort of burst of sugar she probably hasn't had in a long time. "That is barely junk food," she says, because after all, these are snacks her cook put together in case she ever gets lost out in the wilderness! It's supposed to be healthy! ...ish.

"You have to be careful what you buy at the store sometimes, if you can," is all she says. "But some peanut butter and chocolate isn't going to turn you into a fomor."

There is a little trash receptacle anchored to the back of the center console. The wrapper goes there. Avery is turning the ignition. She pauses, foot on the brake, to remove her pendant and hand it over, along with the bracelet.

"Ilyana, of course."