Post by Storyteller on Sept 15, 2016 2:19:26 GMT
It begins with a howl – a single, high-pitched, crystal clear cry to the crescent moon. The howls swell to a chorus, strangely harmonious, with an apparent score behind them. Looking around, a stranger would see a strange collection of singers. There are a few big dogs – they almost look like wolves – and a few Native Americans in tribal garb. There's a white guy in prep college gear. One person seems to be wearing a wolfman costume – some kind of basketball player, maybe, as the wolfman is massive. How can humans even be howling like that?
A Garou sees something different. A special Moot is being opened with rituals howls, calling on the spirits to attend, and for Gaia to grant her blessing upon the werewolves. Indeed, soon enough, the attentive eye will notice dancing shadows at the edge of the great bonfire in the centre of the clearing. Tree spirits have come to join their friends and allies, celebrating life and the creative power of the Wyld. The Garou present – and only Garou would be permitted at such a sacred occasion – are probably of a mixture of the Tribes. Certainly, the Mediterranean college boy seems worlds apart from the Native Americans in patterned shawls. The hulking Garou in warform – in mighty Crinos – is almost certainly a Metis, his fur patchy and his skin badly scabbed and broken.
The howls, in due time, die down. The Garou who had seemed to be leading the song – an open-faced, mixed race man in his 30s – turns as the chant ceases and extends his palms forward and down in the direction of a middle-aged woman. This seems to be a signal to her, and she steps forward to the bonfire.
“Welcome, children of Luna, welcome, children of Peace Tree, welcome, sons and daughters of the wolf!” she intones, evidently a ritual greeting. The Garou present respond formally in a mixture of human languages and the High Tongue.
“Today we see cubs step forward to join the ranks of Gaia's Chosen. They come to hold the line with us, to tend secrets with us, to sacrifice all with us. Their act is a recognition that we live at war, and that our present need is urgent. Their act is a declaration that there must be a future.”
“As we look to the future, we must look to the past, the history that still lives within us. Consider the first segment of the snake – the tail. Where have we come from? Once our true nature lay hidden; once our two selves, our flesh and our spirit, lived separately. Like the White Pine himself, let us contemplate so that we may understand and that we may heal.”
The Garou present bow their heads. Memories of their lives before the Change come unbidden. What does each recall at this sacred time?
A Garou sees something different. A special Moot is being opened with rituals howls, calling on the spirits to attend, and for Gaia to grant her blessing upon the werewolves. Indeed, soon enough, the attentive eye will notice dancing shadows at the edge of the great bonfire in the centre of the clearing. Tree spirits have come to join their friends and allies, celebrating life and the creative power of the Wyld. The Garou present – and only Garou would be permitted at such a sacred occasion – are probably of a mixture of the Tribes. Certainly, the Mediterranean college boy seems worlds apart from the Native Americans in patterned shawls. The hulking Garou in warform – in mighty Crinos – is almost certainly a Metis, his fur patchy and his skin badly scabbed and broken.
The howls, in due time, die down. The Garou who had seemed to be leading the song – an open-faced, mixed race man in his 30s – turns as the chant ceases and extends his palms forward and down in the direction of a middle-aged woman. This seems to be a signal to her, and she steps forward to the bonfire.
“Welcome, children of Luna, welcome, children of Peace Tree, welcome, sons and daughters of the wolf!” she intones, evidently a ritual greeting. The Garou present respond formally in a mixture of human languages and the High Tongue.
“Today we see cubs step forward to join the ranks of Gaia's Chosen. They come to hold the line with us, to tend secrets with us, to sacrifice all with us. Their act is a recognition that we live at war, and that our present need is urgent. Their act is a declaration that there must be a future.”
“As we look to the future, we must look to the past, the history that still lives within us. Consider the first segment of the snake – the tail. Where have we come from? Once our true nature lay hidden; once our two selves, our flesh and our spirit, lived separately. Like the White Pine himself, let us contemplate so that we may understand and that we may heal.”
The Garou present bow their heads. Memories of their lives before the Change come unbidden. What does each recall at this sacred time?