Chapter 2: Into a Starlit Skay

I look around to see where there are rocks and stones nearby, and a few bushes are also quite handy to jump behind if I get shot at.

Human beings are sometimes overly aggressive when they see a wolf, but I like to stay in this form; it is so much more stable and agile than that of the two-legged creatures.

So I sit down for now and let the others come closer, yawn, scratch my head with my hind leg.

"The old world? Funny. I assume we share the world, even though we managed to capture the wyrm's servants in our part, especially the Great Brother."

He scratched behind his ear again.

"That's why you're called the Wyrmcomers, you brought more wyrm servants with you. But that's hard work, which is good against laziness."

The various shades of gray of the timberwolf evoke memories of clouds and snow.

"I'm Speaking Death, philodox of the Wendigo, wolf-born. Gawonii Catawnee for the pale-faces."

"So, what brought you here, Speaking-with-land? The fight, the land, the joy?"

Another wolf walks out of the shadows as Lan and Speaking Death exchange introductions. "Old world or not. A wolf is to be trusted. Unlike a man." The new wolf turns his attention to Connor, sniffing the air to assert his breed. This one might be too at ease with the tools of men.

"Why are we here? Why else if not brought here to serve the spirits of Gaia?" he stop soft a moment. "And I belie that will start with those Wyrm-tainted murders. You have heard of them haven't you? I say a dead human is a good human, but these... these murders, they smell of something else. They are the harbingers of something darker..."

Before he gets lost in memories of long gone days when the Garou still stood a change against the Wyrm, the days before they let the humans take over and bring unbalance to the Triat, he stops to introduce himself. "My human herd calls me Spirit Walker, for that is what I do. My human prey fears me as the Stalker in the Night, for that is how I hunt. Ragabash of Red Talons, I walk the hidden paths of this land."

From the treeline broke a shadow, approaching downwind. As the Garou toke note of it, they saw it was a wolf... a massive monster of a wolf. Perhaps the largest they had ever seen. Its fur was red and its enormous muscles flowed under it like corded cables. There was an aura of animosity around it as it seemed to radiate its inner rage. All who saw it would mark it as an Ahroun. And by its perfect, immaculate red fur, a textbook Red Talon.

He didn’t trot into the gathering; he stalked, head low, tail held high in unmistakable dominance. His golden eyes fixed on the assembled Garou with feral intensity. Red Talons were Garou first and wolves second, but never human. Monkey etiquette did not matter to them, they were wolves and acted like wolves. Massive paws spread as he advanced, claws seemingly leaving twigs undisturbed that wouldn't have supported a normal wolf. It seemed to be a master at stalking.

It did not do as humans did. It did not walk up and introduce itself. It did as a wolf did and circled the group following instincts; reading scents, postures, and unspoken hierarchies. His ears pivoted, tracking every motion and heartbeat. His nose picked up the most minute detail of their scent which told the tale of who they were and where they came from.

Only once the Red Talon had taken the full measure of the other garou did he stop his pacing. His broad chest expanded as he rose slightly on his forelimbs, lifting enough to display the true enormity of his frame. His lips parted—not in threat, but in the Red Talons’ feral tribal approximation of a formal greeting among Garou, baring fangs in dominance. And when he spoke the Garou tongue it came out as a deep, resonating growl.

"I am Breaks-the-Iron-Horse. I am Ahroun. I am Red Talon. I hunt the great iron monkey machines that spread poison to the wyld… and kill them."

He seemed ready to meet a challenge..

"Jaysis, I never thought I'd see a Dire Wolf!" Connor stared up at the enormous wolf. He could sense the Rage coming off of Breaks-The-Iron-Horse. If they were all here for the same reason the Red Talon was most likely going to make things far more complicated.

Without stopping to think much about what this human might be running away from, Spirit Walker turns to the giant red furred wolf. "Brother, the prey has shown it self. It is time to hunt. That is the will of the spirits"

"KILL!"
The Red Talon leaped forward in a fast run expecting to be followed. That ape had spied on them and would do nothing but ill on Garou if he got away. It had to die! With snarls he bounded forwards, foam beginning to froth at his maw, his massive paws eating the distance...