All our base are belong to you.

=========================================
Pencil note, written in a tired looking hand, dated 20/4/2009
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Well, its done. We're here and settled. Funny, we've had tha Temperance fer a while now, a location that was spied out in one of tha quieter suburbs of this city. Away from tha broken hub where tha gangs battled fer who gets tha best rubble. Away from tha more powerful factions we'd come across in our scoutin's. Just a quiet place with a pretty front, a livin park out back, and no godlings tearin tha place up.

Tha Temperance is a bar, was just a bar, a place ta meet and greet without fear of tha Island's factions botherin no one. Just a place ta hang, knock a few back now any then. Her Ladyship selected tha location a while back, and we fixed it up, or got pro's ta fix it up, then she made it pretty and i helped hang stuff and unpack boxes. A quiet place. A safe place. A place ta go and still see tha world.

Never expected ta have ta run there, leavin tha Island, gettin outta there in tha hurry we did, at least we had tha fall-back of tha Temperance. It was just a place ta hang out befer, now its another home-away-from-home. Launchin point fer tha Viators. Meetin point fer tha Institute. Home of tha Temperance Adventurers Club. Just a quiet place, ta lick out wounds, and regroup. Lots of pretty things, including some of tha best and most special stuff we snagged from tha old Library. Too precious ta leave behind.

Too precious ta leave fer those who stayed, or rather, those who wouldn’t come.

Her Ladyship is fussin with tha furniture and such, I’ve stowed my kit behind tha bar, I travel pretty light, when I need, so does She, but I suppose havin ta go like this hit Her harder than it did me. Tha way it happened, at least. I miss my Family. I go through tha motions, I spent some time cleanin my weapons, only getting an echo of tha looks in their eyes, my kin and tha Fanger, that I ended with them. I stacked up my ammo and made a couple of caches here and there. Organisin tha bar took a little bit, too, but I’d mostly done that before, before fleein was even a consideration.

I looked at tha piles I had brought, and made. Things, stuff, tha trappins of Fleshie life. My clothes, some gear, my best weapons, cleanin and groomin supplies. Everythin I thought I’d have a want fer, if needed. Not that much ta show fer 13 years of walkin about in tha wide world.

My glass is empty, and tha heat of tha manuka vodka is good. It’s scent can’t drive away tha memories of tha past but it opens my nose to smells of tha garden outside these walls. Tha grass smells greener.

All after incinerators . . .?

============================================
Pencil entry, messily scribbled, there are food stains on the pages, dated 12/4/2009
============================================

Tha winds of change, they kinda stink, sometimes. This time, though, I got a wiff before tha real stink hit, and tha stink was of death. Time ta bug out. Time ta enact “Grr’s Evac plan #3”. Needed to get do some “shoppin” fer that. Why were we buggin out? Well, tha nasty critter that had gotten loose, run amuck and brought down tha heat from tha Septic Federal’s. Agent Men, wanderin about, huntin. Tha good citizens of Tox, well, they did what they do best, and after tha smoke cleared, and tha agents had been BBQ’d at tha stake, their helio shot down, and tha reprisal strike by ship ta ship missile on tha supply barge, I knew it was only a matter of time till they came back in force. I talked with some of tha Pack, who were determined ta stay, and fight fer their territory, angry pups who’ve never seen battlefield combat with a well trained and equipped military.

Between that, and the breakup of tha Institute, and everythin else that had been goin on there, tha waters were already lookin choppy, but like I say, tha wind brought tha scent of death, and even tha Messenger was absent. When tha Valkyrie depart, its time ta bug out. Didn’t have too much time, but enough ta do what needed ta be done. I collected tha tools of my trade, and set out shoppin. Huntin, is more accurate, though.

My first target was ta be tha easier of tha two, I just put my nose to tha ground, and sniffed about till I found tha right kind of scent. Male, Shifter, new to town. Alone. Spent a while till I tracked him down, then some more time observin. Stayin down wind, stayin outta sight, and sound. Casual, like, not makin it feel like a stalkin, in case his instincts were good. Turns out, though, he was just another turned Fleshie, stumbling about in his War-Form, like he was finding his paws. Poor bastard, well, him or me, I win out every time. I checked tha surrounds, didn’t want any witnesses for this, or tha whole jig was up. The look in his eyes was hardest, when tha first three round burst caught him in tha middle of tha pelvis. Silver hollow-points, make em myself. I keep a couple of 5.56 clips of them handy, just in case. Silver is a sacred metal, and is due tha respect my kin give it. I craft it with prayer and blessin, because there is only one reason for me ta use it. To take my own kind over tha Wide River.

Those three rounds hit him and shattered tha heavy bone of his pelvis, and hopefully, his spine too, I saw his legs bucklin even as tha second burst took him mid-chest, a little high and left of solar plexus, but, I wasn’t at too much distance, and tha MoA was only slight. Heart shot, rather than another spine hit, but, hollow-points make a mess, even subsonic 5.56’s. Tha trick is ta make a big hole, and not over-penetrate, leave that blood-metal in tha wound ta do its work. I kept whisperin my Prayer fer tha Departin, as he jerked and twitched, bodymass dropping him as his hips cracked wider, fallin in slow motion, impacts ta his chest, rib shards and silver mushrooms sproutin in his lungs and heart. His head turned to me, as he dropped, reflexes and canine hearin getting triangulation on tha second burst, even suppressed. That’s when tha third burst landed. His eyes landed on my position, in tha bushes by tha tattoo parlour, and he opened his mouth to try to howl for help.

Even lung-shot, my kin can let out a howl loud enough ta be heard by all those who would listen, fer quite a ways, and as it happens, I was ready, in case that happened, but, fallin as he was, mouth opening ta howl, my third burst found tha mark I gave them, mouth is as good as throat, and he ate at least two of tha three rounds. He crumpled, and lay still, back of his head a wet mess, where bone fragments and silver shards punched through tha back of his skull. I had ta move fast, in case I gotr spotted, but tha hours I keep, and picked, made that pretty easy, no one much is ever about when I am, so, I was in luck. I gathered my brass, slung my weapon, and double timed it over to him. I wondered what his name was, but, Coyote knows, and will add it to my tally. I reached him ,saw his tattered clothes and realised how young he must be, maybe his second moon as Kin, not even old enough ta know how ta deal with clothes. Too bad fer him. Dog eat Dog. I whipped out a poncho liner and rolled him onto it, tied him in, and threw him over my shoulder, and got my tail back to the Library.

I got him in, unseen again, I think, and stashed him in tha store room, before changing, and re-equippin myself fer my second item. A couple of hours had passed, not sure how much longer we had, and with tha time tickin away in my head. I got myself together, and headed back out. As I wandered, I got word that a supply ship had been spotted comin in, and we were expected ta make a show of gatherin intel. Well, that’s what we do, and it’d have raised more attention if I hadn’t. Her Ladyship was still out, makin her own arrangements. So, it was up to me. I passed tha crowd, squablin over booze and eats, as they stood about tha docks, all tha while, I was scanning bodies. Size and shape, needed ta be Fleshie, if this was gunna work. There were folks talking about tha critter, and that it had been loaded up ta be shipped off. I boarded tha barge, and poked about, myself, even whe nit pulled away, I kept lookin through what was left. Folks on tha shore yelled ta get back, that I’d get taken, but, I just waved cheerily, seemed ta me like them seein I was finding a way of tha island fer a holiday wasn’t a bad thing, would add to tha confusion, and if there were repercussions? Well, all tha better, blame tha Mainalnders fer what they were gunna find, later on.

I disembarked as tha barge turned tha corner near tha harbour, out of eye-line from tha docks. Double backed through tha sea wall, past tha Pit, and towards tha Park, tha fountain. Always one by tha fountain, or at least, in tha old days. I was in luck. All alone, again, bloody good fortune, pardon tha pun, and I set up quickly in tha rubble behind tha Vet Clinic, under tha toxic vat. I had my M-70 this time, and a different load. Folks think that bein in tha Institute is all about reading books, and filin reports. What they forget is that we larn everythin, we collect everythn, we never throw anything away. As Praetor, I had access, and knowledge.

I had tha anti-Fanger Serum, to de-Fanger folks, as used in tha Fanger-Lycan War, two strains, actually, because we had developed our own, too, a legacy of Shiny, Lyra tha Furf. I had taken that, and loaded it up into tranq darts, tha same kind that used ta get used on me, when I was in tha zoo, when I was learnin ta think like a Fleshie, in tha 7RAR-L. Tha same I’ve used on my own kin ta drop them when they go moon-struck. I had two of each strain, and had them on paw, just in case.

Tha female was not big, but she moved with tha fluid power that comes with tha Fangers, sex on a stick and as cool as a Melbourne eve. Her hair wasn’t dark, wasn’t light, so I was hopin it was tha right colour, but in tha end, that’s just icin on tha cake. I lined up as she fed from tha trough, tha fountain I helped build. At least she had tha grace ta use a cup, Her Ladyship would have been pleased ta know. I was pretty sure she didn’t have a clue I was there, again, I wasn’t that far off, and this could get messy if I bullocked it up.
Tha first dart hit her in tha back, about kidney height, she flinched, and spat her mouthful out and wheeled on tha spot and looked around fer what had hit her. Not seein anything, she reached back to grab at the dart, and struggled to reach it. I loaded up tha second kind, and drew another bead on her, and tagged her, upper right chest, above her teats, below collarbone. When she took that one, she staggered a little, off balance from reaching fer tha first dart.

When she plucked it and looked at it, tha look of contempt and spite that crossed her face was something outta tha movies. Classic Fanger rage face, fangs dropped, predator’s snarl, and she was on tha road ta revenge. She heard tha second shot, too, just like my kin had, and came at me, or at least, my way, a keening call made its way out of her mouth, as she ran towards tha vat I was under, I expect that she thought she’d zip under, and tear out tha throat of tha fool who tried to dart her, like some mortal. Well, I was hopin tha serum was fast actin, and that a mixed double dose would do tha trick, because tha next round I loaded was just a regular copper jacketed steel core. She had crossed tha park in good time, rounded tha tank, and was getting ready to vault tha chainlink fence I was behind, when she slowed. Makin tha jump, she only got half way up tha fence, and with a look of rage, and anger, had ta go hand over hand up it.

I took that as a sign my plan, and tha serums, had worked, and unloaded tha third round, mid-chest, iron sighted. Tha full military load cracked hard, kicked hard, and did it’s job. She was still goin up, but when that round punched through her chest, she just crumpled and sagged mid-air, and dropped off tha fence into a heap, behind tha vat. She wasn’t quite dead, makin that raspy, wheezy sound folks make when they are getting ready ta Cross, after takin one to tha lungs. I re-chambered, gathered my brass, and slipped around tha fence, at-shoulder, keeping her covered, in case tha serum wore off sudden-like whilst she was still kickin. I looked her in tha eyes as tha life went out of her, and whispered tha same prayer I had fer tha first target. She might have deserved ta die, but she wasn’t even my enemy, just needed her fer tha plan. Another name on Coyote’s list. Rolled her ta see that it was a through and through shot, then bagged her too, and after slingin my weapon, carried her as swift as i could without lookin like I was runnin with fresh meat, back to tha Library.

I got back, and again, as it often was, these days, found it empty, dumped tha almost-Fanger in tha store room, and got tha rest of what I needed. Clothes. Two sets, mine and Hers. I stripped tha two bodies, and changed them, hard work when ya think about it, harder ta do, even more so when they are all bloody and fucked up like these two were. I managed, I had to, time was tickin down on us something fierce. I dragged tha two bodies out, and Her Ladyship was there, ready, and lookin . . . grim. She nodded to me, and looks sadly at the two bodies, dressed like us, but, not us. Tha once-Fanger still had tha fangs, but tha thing that makes them be undead was dead in it, so, she was just in-between. She wasn’t even old enough ta go ta ash, just kinda looked dead and sickly. My kin had gone back to Fleshie form, reverted slowly after tha silver had done its work. I looked at them like so much meat, I had a job ta do, and I was gunna see my mission to tha end.

I reached up and yanked a pawfull of fur out, and tossed it at tha couches and look out my KA-BAR, and lookin away from Her Ladyship, stabbed myself through tha forearm. Whimpered, I did, it’s a hard thing ta do, without rage goadin ya, ta stab yerself, but I did it, and left tha blade in, and spun my arm about a bit, ta spray some blood about. Pulled it out again, and at tha same spot, sliced a chunk outta my arm, skinned a patch tha size of a dog food can lid, growlin as I sawed it off, and tossed it against tha fire place. Tha look in Her Ladyships eyes at me hurtin myself made me feel bad fer doin it, but, I could feel tha regeneration as I got to tha next stage, so, no harm done. Her Ladyship surprised me then, but, and said “I suppose I should offer the same evidence to our pursuers, don’t you think?” and before I could say anything, she bit her wrist and flicked it at tha wall and floor aways from tha bodies. I nodded, and bowed my head in thanks to her forwards thinking.

Last step. I got a metal canister out of my supplies, and slopped tha sticky, stinkin mess out of it, all over tha bodies, makin a mess of it, makin sure I didn’t spread it too far off them, but, its good stuff, made it myself, real thick and sticky. Napalm. Covered tha bodies but not tha Library. I had told tha Library Spirit our plan, and I got tha feelin it was just as unhappy as we were about tha situation, and I got tha feelin it was thinking tha same thing. It had dropped a book, for me when I had first told it about my evac plans, tha book was “You Only Live Twice” by Ian Fleming, a spook book, but I didn’t get ta read it, maybe next time . . .

We set tha bodies, and with our small bags of things, look out tha grimy windows into to that grimy city fer what was probably tha last time. I reached inta my pouch and fished out my mirror and asked Her Ladyship if she was ready. She smiled, a fierce, determined smile and nodded, I offered my paw, she took it in her smooth as stone hand. “See ya on tha flipside, Library, its been swell, but tha swelling’s gone down” and with that, we flashed outta that place, leavin mystery and misadventure in our wake, misery and muck in our past.

Ejected from my Sim, removed from my groups, removed from my Faction

i was wandering about, Roleplaying, when all of the sudden, i wasn't on the Sim anymore, i contacted one of the Sim owners, who had ejected me.

this is due to a side project i have been working on, to re-include a number of our players who left the Sim due to GMing conflicts, the way some roleplay's had been handles and / or quashed or had for one reason or another been driven off.

this was leaked to one of the Senior GM's (Omega being the other one) who passed it on to the Sim Owners (remaining nameless). They then fired me as a GM, as the Assistant Manager of KTOX, (where i have essentially run the station for the last year) and ejected me from the Sim. They also threatened to ban me from the combat system, SL wide, if i didn't comply, and remove myself from all related groups.

Two years worth of work, dozens of pages of roleplaying writing, plotlines, story material and hours of GMing frustration, heartache and negotiations, and they've slammed the door on me. Good thing there -WAS- a backup plan, even though we were being very, very polite and not poaching anyone, or promoting our group to anyone who hadn't already left that Sim.

Nothing will be lost, except the connection to those groups, and the opportunities to interact with my friends there, all my work i bring with me, and will offer under a different title, in a different Sim.




None of this makes me feel like i haven't been stabbed in the back, and exiled.

Here are some of the conversations that occurred.





Its taken me till now to be able to write about this.
With everything else going on in my life right now, this was like the cherry on the cake. I am so grateful to my friends to be here for me and take my mind off it all as best they may.

I don't know how many more things like this i could cope with.




************************
[Sim owner]: You have been ejected from 'Toxia - KTOX Radio' by [Sim owner].
[Sim owner]: You have been ejected from 'Toxia - GMs' by [Sim owner].
GrrBrool Lykin: hi there, may i ask what is going on?
[Sim owner]: Your fired along with omega
[Sim owner]: please leave toxia grps
GrrBrool Lykin: may i ask why?
[Sim owner]: enjoy nor with your new group
[Sim owner]: I suggest you contact omega and have her leave the toxian groups befire you both recieve a dcs wide ban
GrrBrool Lykin: ok, as you like. i can see that something has been said. i'll comply with your wishes.
[Sim owner]: some how she is owner in omega inst
[Sim owner]: and needs to leave
[Sim owner]: without sending a notice
[Sim owner]: she even sends a goodbye she will get a dcs ban
GrrBrool Lykin: she is out currently, and will not be home for a couple of hours, if you could see to extend her that leeway, it would be appreciated, i'm sure
[Sim owner]: as soon as she comes on she needs to leave em ok?
GrrBrool Lykin: i will call her and let her know,,
[Sim owner]: no drama
[Sim owner]: tell her to just leave like grown adult
[Sim owner]: this conversations over
GrrBrool Lykin: i will pass on your message. thank you for the information.
[Sim owner]: You have been ejected from 'Toxia - The Omega Institute' by [Sim owner].
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************************
*RP NOTICE*
Sun Apr 12 16:51:25 2009
[Sim owner]

Omega and Grr were found dead in the libary today..
Their bodys were snatched up by some hazmat team and burned and removed from the sim. A new leader will be elected and put in place.
************************

A letter from Libertie Shieldmaiden: patriot

I received this message from a member, one of my Faction, it seems, who felt strongly about my, and Omega's being permanently banned from the Toxian City Sim, and fired from our various jobs and responsibilities in Toxian City. She's what we would call a fringe member, we don't have any control over what they do or say, but . . .all the same, it was lovely to hear someone sticking up for US . . .
*******************************
Greetings.

Something very important has happened.

Your leader and her 2IC have been exiled. Their crime?

Defending you.

Do not beleive the lies you have been told. Omega and GrrBrool are not dead. They have merely been exiled from Toxian City because it became evident they cared more about their people, you, than the sim owner found pleasing.


The sim owners have arbitarily put in place a new leader, one they beleive will look after their interests - not yours.

Omega has been told if she says anything to you, even so much as a "Goodbye" she will face a DCS-wide ban. I must therefore speak in her stead, having nothing to lose.

Omega and GrrBrool have been dismissed without reason, without explanation, without any sembalance of justice, logic or reason. They have been put on an estate ban - a permanant ban normally reserved for serious griefers and others who pose a clear and present danger to the sim.

Why have they been dealt with so harshly? Without explanation, without reason?

Because they were sticking up for you.

Day after day, players who break the mold in some way - an innovative background, an unusual avatar, a new plot line... these players are put on trial.

Omega and GrrBrool attempted to be voices of reason, counselling to allow creativity, innovation and freedom - within the sim's established rules. They spoke out against arbitary rulings based on subjective opinion. They pleaded for the "unwritten" rules to be clarified, for a clear and transparent set of rules for the players to follow, for an end to the inconsistent application of rules recorded and unrecorded.

They pleaded for things to be fair.

The sim owners have been more-or-less absent for some time. The caretakers they left in their stead have decided to interpret the rules their own way - often to the detriment of players. The sim owners are fed a version of reality that suits the caretaker's views.

The caretaker has seen an opportunity to get rid of these dissident voices once and for all - and has taken it.

So your leaders are gone. Because they stood up and defended you.

What to do?

You could drop notecards on the sim owners letting them know your displeasure. To do so would almost certianly earn you a ban.

All you can really do is vote with your time. Choose how to spend your RP time, under whose rule, under what rules.

Let others know, whenever you get the opportunity, why you have chosen to spend your time where you do.

If you do spend any time in toxia, remember:

Renting land anywhere but Toxia is grounds for banning.
Helping out or GMing anywhere but Toxia is grounds for banning.
Reminding the sim owners of something they said or did is grounds for banning.
Creating a character that does not fit the mold, is not easy to understand, is grounds for banning, even if that character does not seem to break the rules of the sim.
The grounds for banning change all the time and are rarely explained.

Now it's up to you - will you support what has been done or not?

Toxia is a small RP sim, not one of the most popular for a long time now. There are other options. Do your research and make your choice - and when you do, we'll be waiting.

The Lady Walks

=========================================
Pencil entry, dated 26/3/2009, there is a deep red smear in one corner
=========================================

Through the darkened streets She walked, crunching over the concrete gravel and spent casings. Standing tall and upright, but I could see Her shoulders were low, as if some weight were on Her, something, I couldn’t see what. But She walked on, and I followed. Knew I was there, I’m sure, I had made no secret of it, but, when She needs to stroll to think, I’m happier if I know there are extra friendly eyes Watchin. She don’t need much in tha way of protectin, there’s not much more I can do, that an Ancient Fanger, as She is, couldn’t handle. Still, makes me feel better knowin She aint wanderin all alone, and I think She finds it warmin that I tag along sometimes, either in arms reach, or like now, from across tha street.

I sing a little song to myself as we walk, Her where She would go, me, watching her “6”. It’s a song from home, called “Thorns”. One verse catches me, especially as She walks, and I think I understand what is happening.

No point complaining, I've been here before,
The same old same old you know the score,
Faces unfeeling, look down on me,
Eyes cut from stone shine with no sympathy,
This silent of silence, this river of pain,
And here I am walking down her streets again,
On thorns...

She walks through the city, not a straight line “walk with a mission”, just, walking. From tha Library I follow her to tha Garage, tha Ryders took off, just roared into tha night, and no one’s heard much from them since, there are still a couple of folks about, but they don’t wear the Colours, so I figure they’re strays. They don’t even look up from their scavengin as Her Ladyship passes, and pauses to look over the near empty stronghold. Its not till She is passed that they look up, and look to one another and nod at Her back. One stands, and they make to move on what looks to be an easy mark, a Lady, in fine clothes, walking in the dark, alone. Except, She aint. I saw them through the window, and as they step up ta make a move towards Her, I pad to tha open Garage doorway. Lookin in from my crouch, tall even with my paws close to the ground, I give a snarl to let them know She is not prey for them, they go silent, looked to the floor, and I move off.

The Pit, that fucking place. Power and terror, fear and rage. I’ll be glad to see the back of that place, some of my Timor dreams are matched by the ones I have from that place. She walks up the long ramp and pauses, staring inwards and shakes her head, not a negative, but disappointed, and walks back down, and away. I Watch from the back of tha Shelter, ready as ever to go in for Her, as I have in tha past, when She was confronted by tha Shadows, seeking reparation for Nareth’s being ett. Not this time though, tha Pit was as silent as tha Graveyard, which was Her next destination. We walked, Her down the middle of the street, me, dartin from cover to cover, past the Shelter, past the hospital, to tha Church of tha Righteous, and tha Graveyard.

Still, silent. She moves into tha Church, and down tha aisles. I could hear her heels on tha boards, and tha echo was telling. Tha graves were as still and silent as ever, tha muck and mist givin no sign of bein disturbed for some time, no couples scrumpin, no Fangers, fangin, nothing. Dead. Ironic, that. I hang back as I hear Her return, lettin Her walk as She will. South again. Past Haven, past tha Diner, to tha Park.

Tha Park where we did a great Work. Where the willing bled and a great betrayal was struck. She stands by tha Pool, now clotted and leaf-blown, tha Alliance of Her kin seem to have never givin it care and neglect shows, its healing power is diminished, and it smells. Her Ladyship stopped and sighed. I saw her look up to the trees that grew right around it, trees planted from seeds of Her garden, Goddess knows how old they would have been. Fruit that is blood-rich, and good ta eat fer Fanger and Fleshie alike. Plums that taste kind of like salty melon. Deep red and hardy enough to even grow in Toxia. Untasted, it seems, because tha branches are full of fruit, maybe tha season change did them good. It was a hard winter. She sighs again, and walks back towards tha Library.

I pause, from across the street, and as She leaves the park, I enter it, and go to the trees. I stare at the fruit, and at the pool, and back over the city. Was it all wasted? Were all the efforts fer nothing? We’ve lost so much, so many of our people have already fled. Tha comin of Cthulhu and Dagon was tha turning point, I think. Even tha rats are hard to come by. At least my Kin in tha Pack are thrivin, but, fer how long?

I looked to the trees, and made up my mind. I picked half of tha fruit, every second one, and put them in my pouch, dozens of blood-plums, lucky my pouch is a lot bigger on tha inside than it is on tha outside, or at least, where it goes is. I harvested tha fruits, because, if this place falls, or if we go, this at least won’t be wasted. I headed back to tha Library, and stroked tha walls, letting tha Library Spirit know that I was home, fer now.

A song with two voices

======================================
a CD lyric sheet, rescued from the dumpster, cleaned and pasted into the journal
======================================

Will I fall again into dismay?
Will I be ashamed of crying?
And I know it's never been the way that I described
But I am afraid of trying
She's the one who keeps me all excited
She keeps me begging for more
She's the one who deems me uninvited
Now it's over

Never leave me, and don't deceive me
I'll keep on crawling my friend
Never tease me and don't leave me here
It's all the same in the end

Now I find that I am weaker fair
That I am ashamed of lying
And I know things never feel the way that's right inside
And I am afraid of dying
'Cause you're the one who keeps me all excited
You keep me begging for more
You're the one who keeps me uninvited
Now it's over
Never leave me, and don't deceive me
I'll keep on crawling my friend....

It's only a symbol

You've got me falling away
And I am afraid
Take back what I said

Never leave me, and don't deceive me
I'll keep on crawling my friend
Never tease me and don't leave me here
It's all the same in the end [x2]

It's all the same in the end
It's all the same in the end
It's all the same in the end
It's only a symbol

-Seether: Never Leave

When the mighty treat with the magnificent

"I have a task for you, My Coyote" Her Ladyship came to me as i was sittin in tha Library, by tha fire. All she ever need do was ask. "Yes, Yer Ladyship, what do ya need?" She smiled, a flash of fang and a twinkle of an eye. "There is a document, a rather special document, that is in danger, and i wish for you to secure it for the Institute, GrrBrool." I nodded, awaiting further instruction. "When the British Empire encountered these people, it was at the height of its power. It was the mightiest force the world had known and one group of savages, on the far side of the planet, put up such a tenacious struggle, a treaty had to be struck. A copy of that treaty, is at risk of being lost."

She meant tha Maori, tha indig's of New Zealand. With wooden clubs and stone axes, they fought tha Red Coats and tha Royal Navy to a standstill, fought em so hard it was easier fer tha Poms ta shake their hand than try ta beat em down, like they had done ta every other culture they had ever ran inta, or since. They got a platoon of tribal leaders ta all agree ta terms, and they all signed. The signed with a representative, of tha Crown, ta share, on terms, tha land that tha Poms woulda just taken form anybody else.

Seems tha powers that be in Kiwi-land felt it was time ta do away with tha past, and purge some inconvenient records, like treaties they have had ta deal with fer a couple of hundred years. SO i packed some essentials, left some stuff behind, and took one of tha clandestine boats that Duckie gets in, off Tox, and to tha mainland. From there it was stowage-class, and undercover, pressurized cargo flights across tha Pacific, and eventually, ta Kiwi-land. Not comfortable way ta travel, but, beats bein snagged by tha government, any government, and handed back to tha 7RAR-L, in a cage or in a bucket.


I got into tha city, Wellington, little port town, hardly any toxic sludge or firefights in tha street, civil unrest though, looks like tha Maori population kinda objects to somethin tha Anglo run leadership is doin. Figures. Fleshies do this kinda thing all tha time, one tribe against another, even when tha original trouble was gone generations ago. Tha poor stay poor and tha rich get richer, usually its tha locals, tha ones who's land got taken over, that are still on tha bottom, and still pissed off about it. That and tha way that tha different tribes seem ta always settle out. This time, same as tha last time, tha Anglo's got tha tech, and tha Maori got tha balls. Good luck to them, again.


Not my problem, though, i was after a document, simple snatch and recovery. I found tha museum, it woulda been pretty impressive a couple of decades ago, but now it was old and shabby, not maintained well. Security on tha doors, cameras, some of tha glass frontage was walled up with steel plate to cover damage. I scoped it out for a while, tryin ta avoid bein picked off by either tha gangs or tha government dragoons, and planned my entry. I was gunna hit tha archives, tha briefin Her Ladyship had given me stated that it was under lock and key in tha basement, in a room i had tha number fer. So, insertion. I found a side that was sheltered, and in a service access only area, Changed inta my War-Form , and bounded up tha slopin wall, to tha roof. From there, i popped a lock, and slipped in, paddin my way through tha inners of tha place, till i made it to tha basement.

Didn't figure on guards, but. I mean, guards? in a Museum? who steals from a museum? Oh, well, apart from me . . . Just Fleshies, one skinny old dude, tha other some kinda fat young guy. I woulda thought they'd have some big hulkin Maori fellas or sheilas guardin it, with those awesome face-tats, but, nope, just those two. I came t them from tha side, after i scoped them out, and realised they weren't goin anywhere fast. One was leanin on a counter, tha fat one, sittin at a desk. Both smelt of coffee and bad food. Neither smelt of fear, they didn't know i was there, or didn't care. I'm guessin tha former. Didn't stop ta ask. I bounded in, and kicked tha old fella in tha back of tha knee. It kinda did that snap-crackle-pop thing old bones do, he made a noise, and then fell over, and passed out pretty fast, then his leg hit tha ground. Feel a bit bad about that, Fleshies don't heal too good, worse when they are old. Tha fat kid was just starin at me, and reachin fer tha tazer on his hip when i came over tha desk, all fur and fang, and flat-palmed him on tha forehead, off his chair, and popped him one to tha side of tha head. Out like a light too.

I searched em both, and checked their vitals, i even gave tha old fella a bit of Coyote's Light, and fixed up tha bones in his leg. Keys were tha prize though and i got them right smart, and off to tha store rooms. Fuck me, there were a lot of things in there, good thing i had a serial number, or i would never have found tha damn thing. There is was thought, Her Ladyship's intel was spot on. I popped the case, and took out tha document. It was in a plastic sheet, so i rolled it up, careful like, and slipped it inta tha hard plastic map-tube i'd brought, and piss-bolted outta there. Just in time too, on my way off tha roof, i saw a van, unmarked, but with spook-lookin goons roll up, and pop tha back doors of the place, looks like i got there just in time, or maybe that had made me, either way, i didn't stick around ta find out.

Back home tha same kinda way, in tha belly of big planes, and on tha smuggler-ships, but i made it, not a worry, and slipped back inta tha Library. I read tha treaty, or tried, its in wavy writin, and not proper English, old-talk, i guess, but its powerful stuff. When tha Might of the British Empire nodded its head to tha Magnificence of tha Warrior Nation of tha Maori. Now, its safe in Her Ladyships keepin, in tha Library, tha Institute. Where Sacred learnins aint burnt cause they aint popular no more.

Well done them. We're still gunna take em in tha rugby, but. This year . . .

OOC - Assignment: Secure this Document for the Institute, and history

http://www.nzhistory.net.nz/politics/treaty/read-the-treaty/english-text

On assignment: Chasing the Sun

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Pencil note, written as if in a cramped space, like the storage compartment of an airplane, dated 26/2/2009
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Ka mate, ka mate! ka ora! ka ora!

Ka mate! ka mate! ka ora! ka ora!

Tēnei te tangata pūhuruhuru

Nāna nei i tiki mai whakawhiti te rā

Ā, upane! ka upane!

Ā, upane, ka upane, whiti te ra!

’Tis death! ‘tis death! ’Tis life! ‘tis life!

’Tis death! ‘tis death! ’Tis life! ‘tis life!

This the hairy man that stands here...

…who brought the sun and caused it to shine

A step upward, another step upward!

A step upward, another... the Sun shines!

Madness

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Pencil entry, dated 16/2/2009
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Three things, all connected, all feedin off each other, all separate. Havin one, is bad, each time ya add another, it makes both worse.

Darkness and Madness, thats two.

There are things that mortal minds just ain't meant ta know. Tha terrible will and thoughts of tha gods are two. There are some sights what will do same thing. Some folks will snap at things other folks do fer fun. Some folks will bear all kind of punishment and die before crackin. In tha 7RAR-L the taught us, and trained us how ta resist and how inflict. Madness is a weapon if ya know how ta wield it. A deep trap, I know.

I know real fuckin good. I've been there twice now, in Toxia. First time was after a dose of Blue-Shadow's blood. Three days of halucinatin I was back in Timor, tha nights leadin up ta me getting shelled and blown ta shit. Then there was tha Horsemen. I lost my marbles good when I lost first Spirit Gal, then Her Ladyship to them. Her Ladyship goin to them, of Her own free will, goin ta War, what She opposed most, conflict and violence. Tha things i've struggled so much ta grow from, in Her service. It broke me as sure as Her fist did as she grieved tha Huntress, and put me down as easy as Her sleeper hold did.

But both thes were just mortal trauma. Tha madness that comes from tha Wet Sleepin God, that's somethin else entirely. Madness and terror are its servants. Call it instinct, backed by some fast readin. There is a reason tha dark of deep water fills me with tha fear. Things live there. Put me in a river or a lake, or even a bay, I’m right. I can swim ok, its nice even. I've hunted salt water croc's bare pawed. Not my cup of tea, I respect those buggers.

I guess if I saw a shark comin fer me I could fuck it up too, if I didn't loose a limb to quick. That’s tha thing though, things from tha Deep, they come from below. They lurk and slither, and slink in. There is a reason tha Wet Sleepin God, his fuckin minions like Dagon and even tha writins about them lead ta madness and terror. Because they are things that no one who walks on land should ever have ta fuckin know. N o wonder tha Navy is full of bloody nut-jobs. A critter needs dirt under his paws.

Darkness

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Pencil note, dated 10/2/2009, written in a messy, shaky scrawl
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Three things, all connected, all feedin off each other, all separate. Havin one, is bad, each time ya add another, it makes both worse.

Tha Messenger is beset by Darkness, tha Devourer that she struggled with in her dreams has broken free, after weeks of personal battlin, it broke free. We had been seein tha wounds she woke with, tha haggard looks, tha drinkin ta passin out, all tha signs, and there was so little we could do. I made her a dream-shield, kinda spiritual armour fer her, but, too little, too late. It came through, and weíve all but lonst hope that we can bring tha Messenger back. Tha Devourer ambushed Featherpants, and took his white wing, and left him fer dead.

Tha Spook, Dee and tha Tonkster were there in a jiffy ta medi-evac him outta tha hot zone, and leter on, it was on them that it Dropped his gnawed on wing as a psych shock. Good tactic, that, but they had me ta turn to, and I donít take layin down.

Thing is, if it could down Featherpants, millennia old Angel, Darkstorm and ya ya ya . . . what tha fuck was I gunna do ta beat it. That worried me tha most. How ta fight a monster of tha Darkness. How ta gain tha tactical advantage. That was my best hope. I went to tha weapons locker and checked my options.

Now, tha Library donít approve of weapons, firearms tha least, so we keep them under lock and key. I had ta keep in mind what we knew. It was an ephemeral thing, but could go solid. It was made up of darkness, but hungered for tha physical worldís pain. It held tha Messenger within it, and was usin her as a gateway, but it couldnít do it without her. Alive, I figured, but weak. Non-lethal means then. I settled on tha Telsa Mace, a lightin caster, bright, pure, ephemeral and if used right, non-lethal. I backed that up with some flare-torches I rigged up takin apart magnesium flares, tracer rounds and tha like. Wanted ta leave tha Willy Peteís fer last line of defence work. Ordered some spares, just in case.

I patrolled and made it always out front oi Fishco before I got contact. I was makin tactical advances on alley ways, havin reports thatís where it hit most often. I've seen it in a few too. There's a long tunnel alley between tha arena and Fishco, wrecked residential on one side, tha old Vet Clinic on tha other. It was in there, chitterin away. Feedin on some poor bastard. It knew I was there, so I unslung tha lightnin rod.

Alley-Furf and tha Spook happened by and I gave them each a flare. It hates light, Scale Lady worked that out with her M-38 flare rounds. Tactical advantage. We harried it, I challenged it ta come to us, no way I was gunna get riled inta chargin inta its home ground if I didn't need ta. Thatís a green move. Folks get dead in war if they take it personal. Tha mission, always tha mission. Our tactical advantage seemed sound, and we put it to good test. Tha combined effects of tha pure brightness of tha lightnin, my magnesium and tracer round phosphorus torch, and tha flares tha gals had seemed ta work good.

We had waited till it had decided we were too cowardly ta come in after it, and it sure wasn't comin out in a hurry. So it laughed and turned its back on us and went back ta savage tha faceless wonder it had snagged. Thatís when we hit it, when it wasn't lookin and had discounted us. In war, there aint no honour. Honour is fer after. Durrin, ya do what ever ya gotta ta win. It really didn't like tha lightnin. My prayers and such didn't amuse it much neither. Tha combination of sparks and fire, well, we almost broke it, but it did somethin tellin. Somethin usefull ta know.

It grabbed my lightnin rod and held on as I zapped it. I was doin it harm, and I let it, till it faded out, but it took tha shock. Why? Ta hurt tha Messenger, I expect. Maybe test my nerve. Well, I might not have done tha same with a auto-shotgun, or a chainsaw, but tha lightnin stick I knew what I was dishin out. It needed her hurt, weak, but not dead.

Small victory on tha field, big victory fer tha intel. Job well done.

War and tha Blood-Song

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Pencil entry, dated 30/1/2009, it is messy, as if written balanced on a thigh
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Not a real war, more like a border skirmish, folks still die though, no matter what they call it. Tha Pack called an end of peace on tha K.A. Tha K.A. seemed ta launch a preemtive strike on tha Pack. As we had been expectin, it was revolvin around tha two sets of "cures" we been hearin about. Tha very idea that someone was makin "cures" ta both tha fanger HVV or tha lycan genes creeps tha fuck outta me.

I get that some folks don’t wanna take tha Embrace, or tha Gift. I get that folks on either side wanna have tha ability ta take out tha other, its a weapon whether ya think it if or not. Unmaking someones race by injectin them is a bio-weapon, especially in an evironment where lead flys as much as it does in Tox. I sure as fuck don’t want anyone un-makin ME. Cause bein a lycan lets me talk and walk in two legs. That's assumin that’s how it works. I guess it would be even worse if it took away tha canine in me. Bad enough three of four days a moon.

So it was war. Not the pissy street scuffles where one heavy faces off against another where all can see, but proper war. Ambushes, sniper coverage, wave assaults and bombardments. Tha Pack put a satchel charge up at the K.A. HQ and set it off, takin out a whole wall, their theumaturgical library, and generally upsettin tha aesthetic. At least this time none of them wanted ta come after me fer my pelt. Seemed it was fairly clear that it was a Faction War, rather than a race one, Tha Continuum signed up with tha Pack and I think tha Ryders might have signed on with tha K.A. but that’s just a rumour. Tha Righteous and Shadows stayed out of it, this time.

Whether it was just tha smell of blood and cordite, or maybe tha spray of “cured” blood in tha air, but I felt my hackles raising all week, building up. I could hear the blood song, tha Hunt, and tha drums of War beatin in my head and chest. Always building, building. My temper got shorter and tha length of reactions got longer. Tha others in tha Institute couldn’t see it, couldn’t feel it, it was just something affectin tha Shifters. Pensive felt it, but didn’t know what it was, but I did, and I knew what was comin. It was always building, building. Tha thing that cut me deepest, was Spirit Gal. She has been starving, starving herself and lookin to tha needs of others, Nareth Realmwalker mostly.

Starvin herself like tha Maker does. And here was me, brimming with power, brimming with life and tha blood-song singin in my head. I was so full, I thought I’d burst. I needed to let it out, or I’d explode. So I channelled it at her, givin up my all, or at least opening tha door so she would take, and use, and grow, and feed. She is Family, She is Sister-Lover. I will not see my Family starve when game is abundant, and tha plentiful game fer her, right now, is me. Except it ain’t. She spurned it, and me, I think I scared her, so I ran, I ran and raged and ran some more.

I came back to tha Library, and tried ta keep control, I stayed away from folks, and tried not to break anything. Quillis found me, and Spirit Gal did too, and they backed me into a corner, up against tha window, I could see tha marks I put in tha wall of tha Library, tha marks I inscribed with my own blood, imbued with Dimentox’s power, to offer my respects to tha Library, and return its protection with my own. They came, and they started fightin over who got to deal with me. Quillis grabbed me just as I was boltin fer tha Great Forest. So she came too. She’d never been. Figures, it’s a scared place, and she’s, well, old but hardly what I’d call devout, or even a believer.

Tha very purity of tha place repelled her, and she started pukin up black muck, and leakin. Purgin. We couldn’t stay long, too much, too soon. But I took tha time to show it to her, from tha Clearin, and went, and found my sword, which was still there, in the leaf litter, where I dropped it, slowly getting buried and removed from tha place, it was marin its purity, bein a thing made by hands and not by wind and water, rock and fire. I took it, and Quillis, and returned. Spirit Gal looked at me with burnin hatred, so I cleared out. As Featherpants says “let them hate, as long as they fear”. I will not abandon my Family, I will not see them starve.

Not that I needed to worry. Nareth came, and Spirit Gal went to her. Went to her and later, after, when they both smelt of each other, of sex and blood, Spirit Gal had fed, as had Nareth. My Family would not starve. I was not needed for that. Not what she wanted, tha Crystal Coyote, too delicate ta touch, too fragile ta use or drink from, better to leave on display, and look at from afar. Tha useless vessel, too brittle, too wild, too jagged ta drink from. But I could still guard, and Watch. So guard and Watch I will do. I tracked Spirit Gal to tha place of dead and stone, and Watch. This I can do, at least.

Her Moon- OOC - not in the journal

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the following piece is a of a sensitive and sensual nature. If you may be offended, please stop now.

it is not a story as recorded in Grr's journal, but was written as a glimpse into his life, as seen by the Library Spirit and its inhabitants.
==================================

The icy night air snaps at Grr's furless form as he bounces into the building he has thought of, if not called as home for almost a whole year. Hands tucked into armpits he briefly shakes first one bare foot then the other from the slush that coats them and frowns "fuckin un-natural." In the dimness of the library and wearing the shape of a man, Grr does not smell Her. He would not have heard Her even had he been in a more natural skin. He saw Her hair, pale skin and scarlet dress. Colour, the only redeeming feature of being in this shape. Even had he wished to, pulling his eyes from Her would have been difficult.

The army field manual stated that vampires were naturally attractive, that that was as much a feeding adaptation as his mottled golden fur allowing him to blend into dry grass and desert was. Her prey would be drawn to that beauty as easily as his would oblivious to him. "do come in from the cold GrrBrool, I wouldn't want you to catch your death" He walked over and dropped to one knee beside Her. "ah, I do so love the New moon". He rolled his eyes as She spoke, their joke. "Yer Ladyship..." was all he said, voice and enunciation clearer without a mouth full of fangs.

There were many reasons a casual observer might have found the scene amusing. The tall man in beautiful, if a little worse for wear clothes, the delicate seeming woman, regal in Her finery, one kneeling before the other, unshod even as snowflakes melted in his hair. Or at the way She looked carefully, observed and reached forwards to preen him, plucking a brier from his coat and straightening his long copper-gold hair. A casual observer would see this and perhaps think "what a mismatched couple."

A keen observer would see far more startling reasons to think this. The extra set of buttons at the back of his trousers at the belt line, who goes out with bare feet in the snow. The deathly stillness of Her countenance and pallor. His inhuman golden eyes. This was a couple of beings who were traditionally foes. Yet here the were. Grr leaned into the preening and opened his eyes "well I suppose there are two good things about bein Fleshie". She pauses for a moment and smiles, "and what would they be, my Coyote?" A flash of a broad smile, not innocent but guileless, crosses Grr's human face. "colours and tha look in yer eyes, Yer Ladyship."

Her laugh was musical and long. "thank heavens for small blessings then". A blush creeps over his face and he drops his gaze for a moment but as he does She extends a hand hand and lifts his chin, Her fingers as cool, smooth and hard as porcelain. As his gaze lifted they exchanged a look. For a moment not woman and man, not Lady and Praetor, for a moment, as She locked eyes with him, two predators saw into each other. A serious exchange that again, the casual observer would miss. Yet when She allowed the slightest curl of a smile to cross Her lips, he lifted his head high, the blush faded and broke out into a broad, lopsided, toothy smile.

Taking Her hand from his chin Grr held it for a moment and looked at it. Turning it over in his own, he studied it as She looked on bemused. "what is ... " She began as he pulled the hand to his chest, pressing it flat to his breast. "yer hand is cool, Yer Ladyship, not as cold as air or stone, for ya have fire in ya, but let me offer warmth." With this he shuffled forwards until he bumped his thighs . He placed his hands on the arms of Her char, and tilted his head, leaving his eyes on Her, and offered his neck to Her."Warm yerself?, my Lady?" A more than casual observer, would see this not simply as a thrall offering blood-service to a mistress, but, given the man's hidden, animal self, an act of deep trusting submission, as left her hand on his chest, and bared his throat to her. Knowingly, willingly. She sighed, wistful, or perhaps simply content.

"What a mismatched couple." some might think, but as She cradled his head, and leaned forwards, to place Her red lips against his neck, tracing the lines of his throat with the gentlest of kisses, before pressing Her mouth more firmly against Grr's throat. He winced for a moment, then breathed deeply, and relaxed into the embrace, with an undulating moan. She held him, one hand on the back of his neck, fingers twined through his long loose hair, the other on his chest and drank in his warmth, scent and as she swallowed, the very water of his life.

Holding him, the Lady kept Her lips to his throat, gently massaging the back of his head, still leaving Her other hand upon his chest. Grr knelt at the chair, human looking hands upon the armrests, eyes open, Watching. He saw the expression upon Her face, the gentle rapture of feeding. He watched as colour crept into pale skin. Swaying gently at her touch, and from the Kiss, Grr was focusing on the woman in red to whom he had offered his throat. The hand upon his chest slid upwards, and with a quiet tinkle, finds the bronze amulet that hangs around Grr's neck, and a solid bronze circlet. The slender ring has no latch or catch, and runs continuously around his neck. Her lips still pressed firmly to his neck, She swallows slowly, it is apparent there is no rush, no frantic need, only an intimate, shared moment.

Pulling her lips softly from his neck, She pauses to inspect the mark, and deftly licks with the tip of her tongue, each of the punctures, then licks the skin around them free from bloody smudges. Releasing the hold on the back of his head, She runs Her fingers through Grr's hair once more, straightening a loose strand, still cupping the amulet in the other hand. "I am very pleased to have you at my side, my coyote". Grr blinks several times, and wobbles slightly. She has not drunk deeply, but it is not mere biology that makes him swoon. "i would stay at yer side, Always, Yer Ladyship, or any other place ya would have me" He flashes another broad grin, eyes twinkling between swift blinking as he strove to remain still. She matches his smile, and hooking a finger through the circlet, draws his face to Hers.

She kisses him deeply, and Grr moans again, feeling the chill fading from Her lips, as the heat from his own blood flows through Her. Hotter than human, fueled further by Her own particular nature with each successive beat of Her heart.Their kiss is as passionate and filled with longing as any may be. A brief eternity passes, and She pulls back, he waits, and with a sly smile, She asks "at my side or and place I would have you, is it?". The thought registers in Grr, and
he straightens as he kneels beside the Lady, grins, and not needing words, nods enthusiastically. She releases the grip on the token he wears, and stands, taking his hand leading him away, upstairs.

They move silently, Her pace making little sound on the stone floors, more from ages of practice than any attempt at stealth, Grr's bare human looking feet are rough, but he moves with a simple animal grace, holding hands as they cross the floor, up one set of stairs, then another and across the open floor to Her private office. They slip inside, and the door is closed. They look about the sparse room and move to the couch. Reaching it, She releases his hand, and unbuttons his jacket, and pushes it off his shoulders. With no shirt under it, the broad crisscrossing scars that cover his torso and arm and trace down into his waistline are plain to see. Grr starts to look
bashfully at his body, but She clicks Her tongue and smirks, tracing one scar to another, and reaches up to unfasten the shoulder of her gown. Any sign of shyness is washed from Grr and the dress starts to slip away. Without moving his gaze from the Lady, now a pillar of white, standing in a crimson pool of fabric, red hair spilling over shoulders and back, he unfastens the belt that his too-large-trousers on. They slip away and he steps out of them.

Standing like this, in the dimness of an office, in a winters night, two naked people, one petite, pale and blemish less, the other tall and lithe, in prime condition, but covered in wide, jagged scarring, again, a casual observer might think "what a mismatched couple". They could not be further from the truth.

Grr sways slightly in the cool night air, his skin raised in goosebumps as they stand together, hands just lightly touching as they simply look at one another. Through the closed blinds colourful lights of the Haven twinkle through gaps, the faint sounds from outside add to the setting, in only the slightest of ways. The light that does enter plays off their skins, and still, both watch, and drink in the sights of the other. She reaches up and traces the line of his temple, running fingers through his hair behind his ear. In kind, he dips and rolls his head at the touch. His hands are already on Her as She, takes the half step closer to him, tracing waist and back. Skin meets skin, freshly fed coolness to feverish metabolism's heat. It was not the chill that gave either the stiffening nipples, however, nor the dark that dilated their pupils.

They kissed, and the affection was obvious to any who might have seen, predatory, hungry, but deeply caring of the needs and feelings of the other. Kisses becomes an embrace, the embrace wobbles, and they sit down heavily on the couch. Grr caresses the Lady, but She pushes his hand aside, and puts a hand again on his chest and none to gently pushes him back into the chair. Again, a casual observer would see nothing unusual here, yet a keen observer would notice the shove, slight as it was, moved both Grr and the couch. Once pinned, he squirms once, then stills, as She traces a fingertip over his chest, eliciting a gasp, and more squirming as he is tickled. This amuses Her, and it is continued, working lower and lower. It was not by accident that She brushing Her breasts against him whilst this was happening, thighs and knees to begin with, and as his twitching and squirming built, higher and higher, until She felt his arousal, in very tangible fashion, bumping and rubbing against Her.

At that touch, Grr jolted and let out an almost strangled sigh. His Lady chuckled and asked "oh, My Coyote, should I stop, was that uncomfortable?" The look of shock that crossed his face was exactly as hoped, and his desperate head shaking the reward She was seeking. Pulling back slightly he moved to follow, but the next action She took froze him in place. Dropping arms over his thighs, palms resting on hips, She pulled his legs in with Her elbows till they rested against her flanks. Cool breasts lay on his thighs and his breathing had picked up, but only until She smiled, not Her pleasant, social smile, nor the threatening snarling smile, this was a wicked, and enamoured grin, with bright flames burning in Her eyes, and fangs bared. Grr's breathing stopped. Not fear. He felt no fear in Her presence, vulnerable, yes. Exposed and aroused, yes, but not fear, never fear. He too, was rewarded. She descended and with the barest brush of fang, showed that there was more to Her hunger than blood.

Time stopped, or it seemed to, from Grr's perspective, and the world seemed to fade away, as the Lady took her time, and made him sing. The noises Grr made, the warbling, undulating moans and squeaks pleased Her, and this in turn pleased him. Sweating now, against the cold, he ran finger tips over Her arms, shoulders, ears, and the back of Her neck. Trembling touches, twitching touches, clawing gently at Her with human looking hands. With a last, shudder inducing motion, She pulls away, and up, causing Grr's taught body to drop back to the couch as though he were a puppet with his strings gone slack. Grinning still, She stood up and stepping forwards, straddled him, putting hands on his shoulders. Looking each other in the eyes, She asked "My Coyote, is this what you seek?" As if the answer was ever in doubt, the formality, the askance, the offering and ritual, gave the scene an air of the sacred. And sacred it was. Down through the ages, this offering has been made, and understanding is as clear to Grr, as is his need, and desire. Sacred. "Goddess, yes."

Sliding against him, eyes on each others, She presses Her lips to his, Her breasts to his pumping chest, and both strive, bend, meet and join. Both cry out gently, weather from the sensation, the delight taken in the other, or as further offering to some greater power, none could say. What was true, in all regards, was that as these two came together it was as was meant to be. More than two beings of such different origins. More than Lady and Her man. These were two flames that burnt all the stronger for being together.

New Faces, Old hearts

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pencil entry, dated 28/1/2009
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Tha day i met with Strong Gal and Snappypants at tha Shelter, and we talked about redemption, i met some new meat. A cybernetic chick who looked half-done, and a Feather lady. They seemed real interested in tha Library when it got brought up, so i told em to come around and look me up. So look me up they did. Tha bot-girl didnt seem ta have any memories for anythin other than that week, and tha Feather was cheery but not to sure of herself, like she's been sent here fer bad behaviour. They both seemed nice enough.

Redd and Tonks. Both real polite, and eager. I got tha feelin that Dee, who Featherpants Named "Double" Dee, on account of how her name gets spelt. (That and she's not a nice rack, i think, Featherpants has always got an eye fer that kinda thing. ) Anyways, i think that she "woke up" before she was done, whether she got abandoned or not, i dotn think she was quite "done". She's fine, she dont seem ta be bothered much by it, except she worries about how she looks. That and she worried about what it meant that i called her a construct ta someone. Worried that she weren't real, or worth anythin, cause someone made her. Spent a long while tryin ta do herself harm, cause of it, and doubtin her feelins. All come back ta that.

Tonks, Tonky, is a cheerful Feather, real eager ta help out, and do stuff. Young. Do Feathers get made, or born? Do they know time like tha rest of us? She's sure younger seemin tha Featherpants, younger than Tobe. Nice kid, i guess thats kinda their job, but. Bein nice, at least, early on, it seems. Turnin people inta pillars of salt and layin waste ta cities dont come till later, apparently. Seems she's got a taste fer fur, too, as her mate, Pensive, Pennie, a cousin of mine. Another good kid. He had his First Change leadin up to tha Full Moon, and tha Hunt. Tonky got recruited, but i think Pen is holdin back ta run free, fair enough too, we run a strict house, and he's new. Bitten new, i think. I dont right remember.

Then there's Kryss tha Scale Lady, we only got to know each other recently, i think she musta arrives whilst i was bonkers, so, i missed out on tha meet and greet. She's some kinda nagha thingy, snake lady. Demon of some kind, but more like a Shifter. She's interestin, like a Fanger, but, like a Shifter too. She can change shapes, but, she aint a were. She was born, or, kinda yeah, born, but tested, they got a culture about it, which is interestin. If it weren't fer tha scales, you'd think they were lika a Pack. If it weren't fer tha bein alive, ya might think they are like Fangers, tha way their culture works, and, endures. Old. Not just lastin, but, old, their elders are, so Scale Gal says.

Just more recent was Doc Basalia. Formerly of tha Ryders, Fleshie Israeli trauma surgeon. She runs real close with Stilleto tha K.A. Fanger. They work on bloodlines and specialised in tha infective agents of tha Fanger Makin Embrace and tha Lycan Change Gift. This is gunna be tricky. One of her first lines was ta point out that she dug chicks and "was that an issue". Can't say as it was, I prefer females, so we got common ground. Spirit Gal had a giggle at her, askin if it mattered if she -did- mind. Seems tha Doc prefers to be on top. She learnt quick that our Matriarchy is already strong. Strong and stable. The Triumvirate is joined again.

Dee. She's a real person, she's more than just flanges and wires and meat and programs. And tha Maker proved that. I figured if she was, and she hit on him, he'd get all indignant and cat-bum faced. So I told her it was a test. He did, she passed. She's a person. Lucifer's soul detector can't lie. Not if it means he has ta point out how much he needs it and how much he suffers. He's too wrapped in it for that. Perfect tool for tha job.

"artwork" as coloured by Grr in his Fleshie form

Chief Joseph

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a carefully torn out page of a book, pasted into the Journal dated 22/1/2009
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You sound like your forefathers, Coyote
xoxoxo, redd

Tell General Howard I know his heart. What he told me before, I have it in my heart. I am tired of fighting. Our Chiefs are killed; Looking Glass is dead, Ta Hool Hool Shute is dead. The old men are all dead. It is the young men who say yes or no. He who led on the young men is dead. It is cold, and we have no blankets; the little children are freezing to death. My people, some of them, have run away to the hills, and have no blankets, no food. No one knows where they are - perhaps freezing to death. I want to have time to look for my children, and see how many of them I can find. Maybe I shall find them among the dead. Hear me, my Chiefs! I am tired; my heart is sick and sad. From where the sun now stands I will fight no more forever.
Chief Joseph - Thunder Traveling to the Loftier Mountain Heights - 1877

Disciplinin tha Alchemist

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Pencil note, dated 17/1/2009
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We had just been dealin with one of Featherpants' meltdowns, and low and behold, tha Shadow-Wives were in attendance. In fact, we had a whole gaggle of Shadows come callin. Spirit Gal had been talkin to Featherpants before he blew and and stomped off yellin somethin like ""Fuck This Institute and fuck Toxian City, I think I'll tender my resignation to Omega next time she is here". Not happy, but, thats been tha way of things for a while. Since he went ta Hell ta fetch back Blue-Wife. Bad trade if ya ask me, but, love is a funny thing, it seems. I'd have gone into it, or looked after him, but we had a situation brewing, more like about to boil over, that i needed to see to.

Blue-Wife snaps aloud "quit that, I will sting you in the ass... I am warning you" I look over and see Blake, standin about like a lump, grinnin. Blue-Shadow reacts, and tells Spirit Gal she's goin ta back up her sister-wife. Blake is oblivious to tha trouble "oh lookie here imma shadow . . ." Blue-Wife frowns, then grins wide and asked "hows the skin rot?" Spirit Gal leans up against me and groans. Blake got the Shadow-Wives in a foul mood, and they cursed him with some kinda flesh eatin bug, gave him a right cankerous wound. We sorted it, tricky in a Fanger, but he just dont learn. "oh much better, i thought it was sexy how you spit in the wound" great, just what we need.

I saw Blue-Wife flick her tail out, lashin at him trying to jab him in the ass, he just chuckled "hey hey heeyyy now" So i get involved tellin him "Blake, dont antagonise our guests, or you'll be in tha same shit yer always fallin in" Tha Shadow, Mei pipes in askin Spirit Gal "isn't your lot supposed to be non-violent? And non-irritating?" Don't know where she got that idea. With all tha crap goin on in tha city, we've stepped up our security, and close quarters battle trainin, and its been one of our long standin operatin procedures to NOT be irritatin. Better intel gathered that way. Blue-Shadow steps up to Blake and talks to her wife. "How about we deal with him easily?"

Blake tries to squirm his way outta it nowm he sees tha trap hes stumbled towards "im just joking...i know who not to provoke.." Bollocks he does. Tha drongo couldn't negotiate his way outta a wet paper bag with both hands. Blue-Wife ain't mollified none "he's too dumb to be taught... just like a retarted puppy... all you can do is drown it in the bathtub" Blue-Shadow follows up with "make him drown himself its easy" What did tha dumb as say to that? Did he back off, shug it off no, more fuel to the fire. "i love it when you talk dirty, not that i need to breathe.."

Now Shadow Kytara decided to get involved "Hey Blue, is that dinner?" she smirked as she headed out. Blue Shadow was firin on all four cylinders by now, "Fill your body with cement so you can't ever come up you can just rot under the ocean" Doesnt sound like a fun plan ta me, but Blake just goads them along "give yall something to do huh?" Spirit Gal sighed heavy like and took my paw in her hand. "How are you, beloved?" She looked up at Double Dee and smiled. Blue-Wife shrugged "I already cursed his skin to rot off once... didn't seem to detur him. I don't actually mind... he's just another loudmouth like the rest of this city. No manners, no brains, no balls"

Figured i needed to call fer some order, so i told them "Shadows, behave, we'll look to ours, awright? Blake, shut the FUCK up" as he was comin out with "ya'll seem to have the balls" he grabbed at his crotch lookin between her legs

Kytara hadn't left after all, "Aww, that's a shame. Probably doesn't taste very good then." She chuckled as she heard me startin ta give Blake a dressin down. HE just wandered up to the window and looked out. Blue-Wife smirked and shook her head "like I said... retarted puppy", "Needs a brain transplant" said her Sister-Wife. He must have been feelin lyrical, casue he just started philosophisin "this city is humourless ..no wonder everyones so bitter..." grins, and walks off. Right into my trap.

"Blake, you start this kind of shit with them every time you cross their path. do you require me ta get tha chain of command involved? you will NOT keep provoking tha Shadows, as a member of tha Institute, do ya understand?" he gives me a "yes Praetor" as Blue-Wife calls back at me "should have let me leave the curse on" but i'm startin ta see red at his lack of sense. "you grinnin at me, boy? or do ya think ya'll enjoy what tha "or else" is? Spirit Gal and Double Dee ar etalkin, but stop about then. a still settled on tha Library.looks down momentarily. Blake looked at tha floor.

Blue-Wife looked at her sister-wife and fretted a tad "lets go hmmm? this place has too many memories" she nodded and said "I need to sleep" but i was on Blake like a pup on a bone. "because this is exactly tha kind of fucked up shit that tha other Factions spend their whole fuckin lives wadin through, and we got plenty better things ta do than puttin out tha fires that tha people who are meant ta be workin, but aint, are lightin in tha magazine, Do. You. Understand. Me?" i can smell blood as Blake bit his own tongue, eyes still to the floor, frownin. "and if ya intend to stay in tha Institute then you will put this shit behind you. Am. I. Understood?" He mumbled "i understand Praetor"

I kept on it, because lettin a bloodied deer go aint right. Finish tha job. "because as Coyote is my witness, if -i- can, after all tha fucked up shit that i have gone through with tha House of Fuckin Shadows, then you can pull yer fuckin head in, and toe tha line. Do we have an understandin?" He said we did, so i decided it was done "Good, dismissed. get out of my sight, and do somethin useful for Her ladyship." He scuttled off. Tha Shadow females had all pissed off too, leavin just me, Spirit Gal, and Double Dee. Spirit Gal wandered over and stroked my arm soothin me. Double Dee winked. I relaxed some, and unlocked my posture. I bleew a raspberry, with if ya never seen or heard is somethin else, from a Shifter in War-Form.

Spirit Gal smiled "One should never think that you are tame, Beloved. It would be a serious mistake." Aint that tha truth. I gave her a big, sloppy kiss, makin Double Dee squirm and blush in shock, and head out for a run, to go stomp some snow. Dickhead.

the Fang that bites no more

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Pencil entry 14/1/2009, faint blood smears
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Right. Time for some geurilla tactics. I can rememeber Ardere tauntin me when i was broken in tha head. Suggestin ta have me put down, stirrin tha pot when i needed ta settle. She was doin it fer tha joy of seein me squirm and suffer. Wasn't much i could do, cause she was right on tha money. Her and Pontifex, they were close, i gathered, these days. I dont know where Angel Lady had gotten to, but it seemed Big Red prefered darker meat with a lighter skin, these days. Not that i give a damn, he made his choice, and lives as he likes, servin no one but himself, and free ta worship tha thing that was tha Godling, Nareth.

But i hear tell that Ardere had been tradin harsh language with Spirit Gal over havin me fer tea. and not tha Russian Caravan, white and one, Tim-Tam's and lammingtons tea. Grr-tarter, Grr-sushi. She wanted ta fuckin eat me. tha idea really bothers me. Kill me? well, i cant see why, but, hell, shes a demon, who can say. Torture me? well, again, demon, its what they do, no reason i expect, other than i was broken, and she liked seein me suffer. Eat me? fuck that right off. i'm an apex predator. no one eats me! (well, not like that, anyways.)

As it happened, i came inta tha Library and caught Pontifex, and Spirit Gal, castin a bindin ritual on her, somethin about bindin her to his will. Right in tha fuckin Library. Made me mad ta see, but Featherpants waved me down. The did it. With wheelin circles of lights and swirlin stars. Durrin it all, Spirit Gal yanked out Ardere's last fang, just sorta reached in and plucked it, it was broken, i guess thats part of it, how to bind a demon, take its fangs. Or something. I found out later that Omega had taken the other one, yonks ago, and had given to Nareth. Turns out she still has it too.

Later on, a few days later, i chucked both Pontifex and Ardere outta tha Library, cause he was disciplinin her there, ta appologise fer beein a sandy vagina to Kit-sis, and to Spirit Gal. Discipline looked ta turn to torture, and me and tha Library got jack of it. Pontifex has been spoutin a lot of jibberish, and i wouldn't be surprised if hes got a few roo's loose in tha top paddock too, lots of that goin around. i dont judge him fer that, and frankly, it didnt bother me none that he was bendin tha bones of Ardere, but it bothered tha Library, and Nareth, and she was right, he didn't have tha fuckin right to be doin that, there. Lots of skanky dark holes fer that kind of behaviour.

Then, when i was doin a set at Haven, Ardere was there, workin tha pole, and i had a bunch of tha Institute lettin their hair down, i got an idea, and asked Spirit Gal if she still had tha tooth, she did, and she gave it to me. Once together, always together. So I got to work, and set about a Workin, ta give myself a bit of an edge on Ardere. Tha Rite of tha Ashen Tongue. Any time she lays paws on me, she tastes ashes. See how fond of eatin me she'll be once i set that up.

Tha Hunt, Tha Sacred Rite

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Pencil note, dated 13/1/2009
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Full moon last night.

I Hunted along with tha Pack.
I shared my kills with tha other Packless.
I returned, and found one of my mates.

The Moon will be pleased, and so would Coyote.

i think Spirit Gal was too, eventually, heh.

After the Hunt - OOC - not in the journal

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the following piece is a of a sensitive and sensual nature. If you may be offended, please stop now.

it is not a story as recorded in Grr's journal, but was written as a glimpse into his life, as seen by the Library Spirit and its inhabitants.
==================================

the Hunt had finished, and Grr returned, unclothed, golden fur splattered with flecks of blood and melted sleet. He padded past Denenthorn standing watch in the doorway, and towards Tonks, who offered him praise and thanks for looking to the needs of his less fortunate or skilled kin, dropping parts of his kill at the snow at their paws, teaching them, showing them the way of the Hunt. He nodded to Denenthorn and they shared a wry joke, and exchanged eye rolling at Lei's whining and moaning about how the Pack was pathetic, but at the same time, would not lift a paw to better them.

Grr had other things on his mind, though. in the warmth of the Library, his unclothed body began to steam, frost thawing and melting away, and he padded over to the fireplace to drive off the rest of the chill and damp. He looked for his clothes, discarded when the Hunt arrived, and he heard its call at the windows and door. Kicking them behind a chair, he wiped the remainder of the rat-blood off his paws and looked upstairs. Upstairs to the room beside Her Ladyships office. Upstairs where Spirit Gal was sleeping.

A yearning need was tugging at him, calling, and he slowly made his way up, bare paws making barely a sound other than the click of claws on stone and polished wood. Denenthorn walked to the hidden doorway and lay against it, guarding the returned Childer, but Grr, his thoughts were of the living, tonight. Passing the foyer, reaching the spiral staircase, he wound his way up, all four paws clicking and padding. Reaching the top, he padded close to the door, and checked it. Locked, but not to him.

Slipping inside, Grr padded to where the sleeping woman lay, her breathing was even, and the scent of sleep was in the air. Clothes lay draped over a simple chair and a pair of golden earrings lay on a dresser against a wall. Reaching the foot of the bed, he gently lifted the heavy quilted cover, and poked his head very slowly under. A movement, and a foot slid one way, Grr froze, then after a moment, continued to slide under the covers, an inch at a time, claws reaching under as he pushed his lean furred body into the bed. Breathing in the scent, he crawled further forwards.

For a moment there was stillness, then flesh touched fur and a another frozen moment passed. Stillness. Anticipation. The leg move again, access is gained, and taken. With the alacrity of a commando raid, Grr, clawed his way further up the bed, towards the source of the heat, the scent, agaisnt the sleepy legs of the stirring woman. She was waking at the sudden motion and sensation, but groggily, the press of soft warm fur of Grr's muzzle and neck ruff strangely familiar in her dreaming.

Suddenly, she realises something is happening and sits up, in a panic, and tries to pull away, but Grr is on her now, paws reaching up and pinning her thighs. She cries out, in the daze of sleep and panic, and a pulse of prana lashes out, in defence. Stunned for a moment Grr slumps in the bed, his paws gone slack on the womans thighs and she tries to pull away, but he recovers quicker then she expected, such was his need. With a grunt, he levers himself forwards, gripping her thighs again, and presses his muzzle forwards, and manages one long lick before stilling again.

A quick gasp as tongue hits its mark, and a pause, "Beloved? Grr?". The quilt is lifted and a light is switched on, the light plays over Grr's fur, dappling the caramel coloured fur, still flecked with blood. Blinking, dazed he tries a grin, but with his ears pressed back by the covers, and most of his muzzle wrapped by thighs, it is only his eyes that express his delight. Then his tongue speaks for him, in action rather than sound. Regaining his bearings, he pulls back at her hips, pulling her towards him, and himself to her. She smacks her palm on the top of his head several times, trying to object to the intrusion, the shock, but his insistance is . . . insistent.

"you startled me, Beloved, are you alright?" she asked. The only reply Grr made was a low rumble, an an intensifying of his licking and lapping, all along thigh and behind her knees, edging further and further upwards again, after the initial lick. With a pull of both his warm leathery paws, Grr presses to her mound, need taking precedence to subtlety, and laps vigorously, letting the curl of his tongue caress and part her, nose pressed, snuffling firmly and growls softly.

Before he got very far, Grr felt a firm palm press on his head, on the ridges of his pointy skull and the woman spoke. "Beloved, wait, what if . . .." Grr continued licking, tasting, but lifted his head, forming a crest in the covers through which he peaked. Looking over her belly and breast, covered though they were in a nightie, his eyes glinted in the shadow, even as his matted muzzle rested between her thighs. He had stopped, for a moment, then with a throaty and cheerful snort, and a shake of his head, he continued, nuzzling into her groin, pressing his nose into her mound as he parted her with his agile tongue.

She made a noise, pleased but at the same time, anxious. There was a brief moment, a decision was made, Grr could feel it. She sighed and pulled the covers over his head. Grr took this as a sign and continued, under cover. As he chased his hunger, she lay back in her bed, and with a chuckle resigned herself to having been caught. Grr's tail poked above the back of the bed, wagging he had hunted, but now he had far deeper hungers to satisfy. The quilt undulated as Grr went about finishing what he started, and soon the woman was making noises as animal as his.

As she lay back, trembling, gasping to catch her breath, hands grinning the sheets in now slack fists, she felt him, fur against her thighs, shoulders against her knees, and the huffing breath, waiting. There was a stillness in the night, no gunfire, or screams, only the faint faraway crackle of the fire in the hearth. The building was still, watchful, but calm. This was the feeling they shared, flesh on fur, entwined, longways, as it were, for a moment. This dreamy warmth ended abruptly with another cheerful snort that she felt for than heart, sending tremors of delight once more. It signalled a rush of motion.

With a paw on either thigh still, Grr gripped, pulled and twisted, lifting the slight woman and rolling her. In a daze still, she was momentarily confused and wondered what was happening, but she felt Grr clamber onto the bed. With a gentle but insistant shove, she was dropped first onto all fours, then knocked onto her elbows. The room barely had time to stop spinning when she felt Grr behind her, a press of fur to the backs of her thighs, along the curve of her back, and along the backs of her arms, as his own planted and wedged her in place. It began.

It began with a soft searching, a fast paced and shuddering entry, followed by a pause, and Grr hugged the woman close, still not having said a word, waiting for both acceptance and confirmation. He gained it as she throatily gasped "oh, Beloved, yes" No further signal needed, he moved within her, and they shook. She felt the burning need, tempered by a compassionate heart, struggling. Always holding back, always tender and gentle, she felt the struggle, and acted.

Growling slightly herself, she turned her head, and bit his forearm as it gripped the bed, wrapped around her own. This tipped the scale, and Grr let instinct loose. Wild and free. Hungry and inhumanly strong. The coupling became rough, and fast. Driving forward over and over, Grr had pushed the woman further down, so that her shoulders were on the bed, his paws against the sides of her chest at her armpits, so that his fur was brushing that delicate flesh. Need and hunger. Primal and passionate.

Something new. something she had never felt, and had only pondered. A pressure, a parting, a fullness, followed by a rush of heat, a shuddering throb, and a mixture of Grr's whining, whimpering and deep throated growling and utterances, words and non-words. Sounds that might have had meaning, or simply been the language of the gods. Then stillness, they lay together, joined, tied both physically and spiritually. the fierce heat of Grr's metabolism, combined with not only the rush of the Hunt, but of the fires of their passion, combined with the fire that lived within the woman drove away any chill in the air.

Pulses continued for a long, long time, and when the feeling of fullness did not abate, the woman turned her head, and kissed Grr, who was still crouched, supporting himself on digigrade knees and along his forearms. She could see that his eyes were half lidded, his tongue lolling out as he panted, staring into the Other, and with every third or fourth breath, they shared another pulse, and his nostrils flared. "Beloved? . . . Grr?" No answer, but the slightest contented smile and a rolling "hmmmmm" she felt throughout her body, covered in her own, personal furred blanket.

Slowly Grr stirred, and after many long minutes, Grr was able to withdraw, and did so gingerly, having regained enough rational thought to consider his partner. The moment he had, again, in a rush of sensation , he clambered off and behind his mate, and soothed her in the way most natural to him, with licks. This was almost too much for her to bear, and only after a moment, she pulled away, rolled to her side and grabbed at his fur, pulling him up to lay with her.

As they filled her little bed, limbs entwined, and touching each other, fingertips running through fur and tracing scars and tattoos, and claws tracing skin and curved, Grr uttered his first distinct words, and his last for the night. "Spirit Gal". They lay, sleeping or gazing, until duty and the ruckus of the city stirred them on another cold, Toxian winters day.

Nareth returns

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Pencil entrty, dated 12/1/09
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Tha Huntress returned! Well, no, not tha Huntress, that was clear from tha onset. This was Nareth, Childe of Omega, sacrificed in tha Pit to open a door to tha Godling, Labyrinth. Tha Huntress was a bold and fierce creature, without pity or mercy. Tha Nareth who returned from tha dead, from BEYOND death, was not tha same creature. Spirit Gal found her wanderin tha streets in tha snow, out by tha Hospital. I swore to Raven i would ensure Nareth made it over tha Wide River and found peace. But. She was beyond my reach, and i couldn't help her.

At first we thought it was a trick. Tha godling Labyrinth come back ta finish tha job. A ghost, a trick from hell. Wouldn't be tha first time. Then it dawned on me, that it looked the same, smelt tha same and 'felt' the same. She said that tha moment, back in summer when she had tha choice to go to tha Pit, die, and let Labyrinth into tha world, or not, "this" Nareth chose not to.

Some kind of time magic. Guess that kind of thing happens when ya deal with gods. I wonder when in my life i'd like a big reset button. Can't think of any in particular. Maybe runnin from tha 7RAR-L sooner, but maybe it all happens when its meant to. Maybe i make all tha right choices, when i make em. Fuckin unlikely. Too complex. I think i just don't notice.

She was back, but she didn't know when or where. Summer one minute, decided not to get ett at tha Pit, then she was back, in tha snow, weak and confused. Like tha rest of us. I knew. KNEW. That this wasn't tha Huntress no more. Same Fanger, same soul. Different spirit. This was tha Realmwalker, who chose not to be, rather than die and end her Hunt.

This was someone new. Old, still Her Ladyship's only Childe. Not tha Huntress. For Her Ladyship's sake, i'll see to her recovery. For Raven, i will make sure her soul finds peace. For myself? If she turns out to be Labyrinth, i take her fuckin head.

Journal

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Pencil entry dated 12/1/2009
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I can't say how good it feel to have this journal back. I need it cause it reminds me of what i've seen, what i've done, who i've met and who I am. Twice now in Tox i've lost my marbles, and having this little book, means i can read back, and put everything in order.

This last time, i lost this book too. Tha Messenger had it, stashed and safe. This journal has my life in it, I guess you could say. . .

Tails of recovery

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Pencil entry, dated 5/1/2009, starting off messy, and clears a little, as though writing is remembered
==================================
So much has happened, two times tha moon has hid her face before I write this. Tha last thing I wrote, it was about dealin with tha Horsemen, in Spirit Gal and in Blue Shadow. Then it all went FUBAR. We’re talking serious Charlie Foxtrot. So bad I lost my marbles, I cracked, shell-shock. Its all a bit of a blur, I remember parts, maybe all of it, but it’s all a mess, I can’t say when what happened, and even workin out who said what is hard. Tha faces all blurred, and tha settin seemed ta change. Sometimes its Toxia. Sometimes its Timor, sometimes somewhere else. It took me back ta my old life. Like that’s what kicked in ta keep me alive, tha trainin. Guess those bastards in tha top brass of tha 7RAR-L knew their stuff. I shot tha Messenger. She took two ta tha chest, off-centre, but still. She had run me through, tryin ta snap me outta it, did a fair job, but I managed ta get off a burst. I shot one of my own and she was worried I’d be angry at HER. Kin, pack, Blood. I belong with these people.

But I been tryin ta put it all back tagether, so I went fer a walk, and visited tha Shelter, ta see how Strong Gal was farin, still on garrison duty, her mate, Snappypants not trustin her delicate self out on tha mean streets. Fer good reason too, but, been causin a lot of strife in tha Institute fer it. I know what its like ta be tha beast in tha cage, but at tha same time, sometimes tha bars keep tha bad out, as well as tha beast in. I rocked up and I heard them talking, as mates do. What they were talking about bothered me but didn’t surprise me much. All’s not been well in our Family, and we need ta regroup and tend our casualties.

Snappypants was sayin "normally Denny would be laying on the sidewalk bleeding his excuses just there but since he has served as your adopted dad I did not wish to present you with said spectacle. I will not stand insults like that though baby, I only hold myself back for your sake. Mine... and what he said was just rambling" ta which Strong Gal lisped bewilderedly, "But...his words.... were...untrue..... the words he said, He knows differently....." I padded in, scentin tha air, tha reek of tha plague rats was still gone, I been back since, I even did some food-prep with Strong Gal, taught her how ta make my spice cookies, but still, tha memories were strong, and scent is tha strongest. But they cleaned it good, and it’d been, well, over a moon at least. I smelt no one else, so I poked my head around tha corner Snappypants shook his head slightly "no baby, he does not know better, most of the people that are not us really don't know. they have not been in a similar situation themselves, either because it would be impossible for them or simply because it didn't happen. do not worry yourself with what they come up with and what ideas they have and don't ever think anyone but the two of us can have any educated opinion about our marriage and its state or blessing" he caressed her hair and tailed his fingertips down her neck and buried his head in tha crook of her shoulder.

I announced myself, never enter tha territory of another unannounced unless yer their fer hostile intent, casue they might get tha wrong idea. Good logic. Course, if ya ARE there fer hostile intent, get in quiet and do yer job and get out befer they know they’re dead. Better logic. "err, am I bein an intruder?" I asked, still in tha hallway, lookin around tha corner. Tha walls are thin, but still offer some cover, at least, line of sight cover. Strong Gal looked up and shook her head a negative. She cuddled with Snappypants and waved ta me. "You can come in...we are talking about Denny...who was not kind."

Snappypants looked over ta me too and grined slightly noddin a greetin. Old, he is, old like Her Ladyship, but not as quite. Here’s some more advice. Anythin that lives that long is GOOD at livin that long, that means they’re dangerous. Because there’s plenty out there that looks ta make ya dead, and they evaded, defeated or over come everythin that’s come their way, fer a LONG time. "no intrusion there Grr, has been a while since I last set my eyes on one of the specimens of your kind I do not mind having in my immediate surroundings" he grinned wider and gestures me over. I’m glad him and Her Ladyship make exception fer me. My kin and theirs, we aint exactly bestest of friends. Natural enemies some would say. Predators chasin tha same prey, just not fillin tha same niche. We distress them, cause we’re monsters that tha Fleshies can see, and it makes them wonder about tha ones they –can’t- see, like tha Fangers.

I padded over and hopped onta tha short heavy table in tha lounge, and copped a squat. "I been . . . .broken, in tha head, but, I’m better now, not best, but, better, and . . . I wanted to come and see ya both" even now, its hard ta make sense of it, and harder ta make words ta tell of it. Strong Gal said ta me, "Merry Christmas....and....yah...Merry Christmas." She thought a moment, then answerd her mate "I thought Denny would know better than his words." She asked me if I was well, but I was starin at tha kitchen, and tha floor as tha smell seemed ta come back. "I remember comin, err, before, tha . . .before tha , when there were rats" Strong Gal nodded to me and said "And we made cookies one day not so long ago....they were good cuz you don't cook them." Snappypants caressed his mate’s hair and kept tha ever-present grin on his face listenin to Strong Gal's description "not best you say but better. better is a whole step from worse Grr, glad to hear you are recovering and I hope it is speedy to that best part, mind you"

I looked ta Strong Gal, she’s delicate, fer all her strength, she don’t see things tha way they are either, but not tha way I did. She sees things better. Brighter. She sees new friends, where I saw a target rich environment. She sees a spot fer a picnic, where I saw kill-zones. "cookies, yeah, we baked . . . did you like them? its hard ta get all tha right stuff fer em, but, they're good solid food, tops fer tha body." I asked her, then pondered a bit, and offered my own worries about Featherpants. "Denethorn . . .he's been . . .real cranky, so, I guess we both been burnt by tha fire of his mind recently then .. ." Strong Gal smiled real bright hearin cookies are good tucker, but frowns again about Featherpants "He called Ethan vile things... and.... then he said our marriage was cursed and mentioned divorce!" Her mouth curls into a pout and she blinks wide-eyed before cuddlin Snappypants.

That’s fuckin bat-shit crazy, that is, I know Featherpants and Sanppypants don’t see eye ta eye on a lot of things, especially where mate and adopted pup are concerned, but, that’s daft and I couldn’t get it right in my head "but . . .yer .. .yer mated . . I, why? that don’t make no sense .. ." Snappypants smirked slightly but recovered his grin turnin to Strong Gal "he was either drunk regardless of what he said, or just hurt about some other matter. maybe his girl ran away or he didn't get a girl he wanted... or he was just miserable and could not see straight. really princess, do not trouble yourself with him at this time, besides I told him to stay away from you until he manages not to upset you with his presence"

Bombshell! That’s just fucked up. I know he’s been goin through some fuckin aweful times, he went ta fuckin HELL, and brought Blue-Wife back, at tha cost of parts of his soul, but, I seen him since, I remember it, with one of my kin, courtin, it looked like. He seemed on top of things, at least, getting on with it. But, Snappypants went on "how IS that recovery going though Grr and are there any issues you could need assistance with regarding the recovery?" I try ta answer, but I’m still flash-banged from hearin about what Captain Featherpants said. I look ta Snappypants and then ta Strong Gal, on his lap, in his arms "Mr Brit, you always put tha Corp . . .no, Strong Gal, you always put Strong Gal's good first, right, as she's yer mate?" She looked up at him and back ta me, then kissed him on tha head and said "My beloved always takes care of me, It's why I stay close to him."

Back ta me, and how im recoverin, "ahh, its all . . .my head, I was seein things wrong, like my past was overlayed on my now, and, Her Ladyship, she reminded me, she sang down tha moon for me" Snappypants nodded in response ta my initial question about Strong Gal's good, then tilted his head like he was tryin ta follow my story. I talk funny, at tha best of times, I been told. Go figure, my brain aint wired fer Fleshie thinking, I can do it, butm, it aint tha way I was born, I had ta learn. He asked me "she sang down the moon for you... would you like to elaborate on that one Grr?" turning ta Strong Gal he said soft like ta her "that sounds like more or less of a romantic story" Strong Gal looked up and her eyes went wide. "How can someone sing down the moon?" She touched her mate's hair more as she heard him speak, "Oh yes, please...I wish to hear the story."

So I started my telling. "well, when I was broken, I could talk, and think, but if I touched what was broken, I couldn’t talk, if I thought about it? I couldn't say, I was trapped in my head. but I could sing. my breed, we're called tha singin dog, we sing to tha mood on tha nights when she's lonely. I think in tha way back, we upset her, so now we sing to make her happy. so even with my brain broken, I could still sing my heart. Strong Gal listened, but looked up and asked "You mean the moon...is a she?" I looked over and could see she was strugglin to understand. I just rolled my head side to side cause it was a strange question but I remember, "yep, she’s a she, tha Lady Phoebe, or Mother Luna, she's a she . . ." Snappypants runs his hands down Strong Gal’s back "I think it is a mannerism but the moon is often referred to as a she. now if it is a female indeed or the big orb floating in space is called a she for example's sake is rather irrelevant. what is important is, is Luna has an effect on Grr and his ancestors it seems what the sung communication goes" then thinking on my words and turned ta her "there you have your answer" She looked out tha window ta see tha thin crescent of tha Moon that hung there, givin me back tha gift of Change, which, right now, let me wear my furm, and be warm.

So I went on "I sang and I sang, and no one understood me, except tha Spook, Dryl, she sang a little back to me, but, she had ta go away, and I couldn't give her enough song, folks asked me what was wrong, they told me I was crazy, tha nasty angel lady said they should put me down, they laughed, or cried, but couldn't listen to my songs. they HEARD my songs, but they couldn’t listen to them" Strong Gal blink blinked a few times, like she was rememberin and puffed her cheeks. "I thought you were just singing...." Someone wandered in and got a bowl of chilli and sat eatin. I went on with my story. "I know, its awright, Strong Gal, I don’t mind none, but, there were times I just wanted ta die, I was . . .trapped, and broken, and no good ta no one"

Snappypants looked over his shoulder and nods in his usual greeting at tha eatin one, then turns back to me "sometimes we have to break hard, so we can rise and know we are whole again but it is rather healthy not to have the need of that often..." he hushed to hear the story continue, so I did "I stood my Watch, like I was ordered, I guarded War, like it pleased Her, I stood and I starved, and I sang. Then War went away, Death went away, Pestilence went away, and there was just me, broken, locked in my head, singin fer help. then . . . then . . .. Her ladyship came back ta me, I didn’t rightly know when, or how, but, She was back, and She loved me. So tired, She was, so, I fed her, and she held me, and loved me, not cause I fed her, but because I would, because I will Always, Always, be there fer Her, as long as Coyote gives me breath and blood ta live, and, maybe longer, because tha Wide River hold no mystery from me"

Strong Gal ran her fingers through Snappypant's hair rememberin something . She buried her face against his hair, a few blinks and she pulled back ta look at her mate. Snappypants blinkd once at the 'fed her' part and looks my neck and wrist, then looks back down trying not to stare for too long. Don’t know what he was expectin ta see, he leaves his bites on Strong Gal, plain enough, but, I got fur, and I heal, real fast. "but I was still broke, even fer all tha love and care, fer all their guilty thoughts, and such, my head was broke. they fought, tha folk in tha Library, about how ta make me better. They wanted ta magic me, I had folks rummage in my thoughts, pokin and proddin, and all I could do was sing" Snappypants nodded letting his head hang a bit "sometimes people come with the best of intentions and all but examine you to death searching for an approach that really touches your being" he smirks and clenches his fist momentarily like he knew what he is talking about, from personal experience.

"but, eventually, Her Ladyship listened to my songs, she heard, and she listened and I sang ta her, a song of us, and she knew." Strong Gal asked me what I meant about them tryin ta magic me. As Bohny tha Feline came in talking ta tha new folks "they were wanting ta use magic, and MAKE me better, ta fix my head like they thought it should be, I only got a small brain, Strong Gal, and a thick skull, and it was pretty messed up in there, I don’t think even if they tried, none of em seemed ta get that I aint a man, dressed as a dog, im a wolf, given tha shape of a man. As Bohny chatted, then wandered off, I was watchin her, old instincts and memories bubblin up, she wandered off, and I muttered, watchin her tail go "she's got good breedin hips . . . .err . . ."

Snappypants tried to keep focused on my story with all the interruptions but I saw him cover his mouth after my comment about good breedin hips "that reminds me of something" he trails the sentence off "but don't let me interrupt" he looks back at the new lookin couple millin about who just got assigned a room "there might be an issue with the beds squeaking but there is an oil can under the sink" Tha fella chuckled and shrugged. "That's fine. At least it's a bed" I grinned and added "not fer internal use" which sent them both giggling and blushin. Tha female was real pale and not bothered at all by tha cold, dressed in, well, not a lot. Fanger, my guess. Strong Gal asked ""You may wish to find some clothing for your beloved....or she will freeze...or someone will think she is like um... maybe... yah..... she needs clothes before she dies of cold." But it sounds like they both knew who, and what, tha female was.

Back ta my story, like I told them, small brain, easy ta get off track, when their aint a task at hand "err, Sergeant Menjou . .no . .. no, Spirit Gal, my Spirit Gal, she saw somethin I was lost without too, and she, she helped me, so much, she took me, or, showed me tha Path, at least, ta tha Forest. tha First Forest, tha Great Wood and, I , we, we went there, I took her. I ran, I RAN, through ta trees, in tha wild, oh, Strong Gal, tha feelin, tha wildness, tha purity, it was . ... primal. I hunted, I cast off all my army stuff and ran barefurred and hunted." Strong Gal keeps listenin ta me, as she directs her charges about and I can see she’s obviously followin what I mean, which is good, we connect more often than we don’t, I thinkwhich is odd ta think, sometimes, I’m all fire and earth, and she is water and air. I keep goin "I killed, and brought my kill back ta Spirit Gal, and we ate, under tha forest sky, we shared my kill, she's, she . . .we're mated too, I’m very lucky ta have tha both of them, they, I need them, tha fire, tha air, tha night, I need them both like fire needs wood and air, like it needs dark ta shine."

Strong Gal gasped happily, "you married Joah????" I just rolled my head side ta side lookin at Strong Gal, she was real excited by what I said, but I didn’t quite know why. Snappypants blinked like he was wonderin how he would explain. I tried, "I walk tha Path with her, wherever it leads, I took her ta tha Wide River and froze and burned fer her, and she'd do tha same. i shared my kill with her under tha open moon, does that mean we're married?" Snappypants gets a real nervous look in his eyes and looks from Strong Gal ta me and back a few times She looked thoughtful fer a moment then said "Well.....if she is your beloved...and you are hers....and you love each other...and are going to stay together...and are dating and god approves, I think it means married....yah?" She looks to Snappypants fer confirmation. Snappypants intentionally looked away checking tha soup and cookie supply before hearing her reply. Yup, fear, ha. "well, I would say that is rather accurate... if all of the above applies at least" he looks over to me biting his lower lip "congatulations then" he worked hard ta give me a happy face, but something was worryin him, not about me and Spirit Gal, but about how he was gunna explain ta Strong Gal tha details, I think.

"err, ta, mate, its nothin new, ya woulda seen me holdin her down when her and Strong Gal here got lust-dusted a whiles back." Strong Gal asked, "Lust-dusted?" and turned, rubbin noses with Snappypants and still playin with his head fur. "well, yeah, there was somethin tha two of ya got exposed ta, somethin that made ya beg fer kisses, and cuddles, remember?" Snappypants reminded her too "when you trashed Deb's bike and Joah and you were rather intensely asking for cuddles and kisses after getting exposed to that stuff in dust form" Sorted. So, I went on "but, err, anyways, Spirit gal reminded me of tha wild, and that let me heal, she made tha big step, and took herself in with it, and put herself at risk ta help me. . .. she, she cant walk between worlds on her own, and, well, she had only hope that when we got there, I wouldnt eat HER, but, love is thicker than madness, yeah? and she healed my spirit there. and in time, we came back here, where my Family is," Strong Gal turned beaming at Grr. "So she saved you....." Nodding, she beamed again and lisped at me "Beloveds do that for each other."

"that she did, Strong Gal, and so, I came back, still broken, but only in tha head, my spirit was mine again, and Spirit Gal was mine again, and that made tha world a better place. but, I was still broken, and I still was trapped in my head, and that’s when Her Ladyship listened to my songs. she listened as I sang of War, tha horror of it, tha pain that comes when ya cant leave it, and at tha same time, tha love I have fer Her. I sang Our song, and that’s when she KNEW, she thought I was askin ta die and be like Her at Her hand, at first, ta be unmade and then eternal, but, that aint it. I wanted Her ta know I would Always, ALWAYS be Hers. fer as long as I have breath and blood, fer as long as my debt ta Coyote lasts, and beyond. And then . . .then . . She sang to ME. She sang, ta ME."

I could feel myself startin ta cry. Big scary werewolf, big tough dog-soldier. Its ok, aint nothing wrong with havin emotions, I am wild, I am free, and holdin that locked up aint good, "She sang of peace, of tha end of War, sang of a long future, song of joy, and . .. She sang, ta ME". Strong Gal hopped up and dashed fer a paper towel thingy ta let me dry my face on, sweet thing she is, I got FUR, but, never poke a gift Fleshie in tha eye. She told me "She sang because she loves you...." Snappypants was tappin his figers on the chair listenin and focused real close on my tale blinking in surprise at tha tears, I saw his eyes open wide but he locked up shop not makin any move or lettin him express himself freely. Bottled up. Maybe that’s why he’s lived so long, but he said "and through this you started healing on the inside again?" I nodded at him, and went on, with hardly a blubber. "She sang down tha moon. Strong Gal, that’s what my kind do, in tha cold of tha night. when we are alone and empty, we sing, and tha moon listens, and comes ta kiss tha ground, and we sing to each other, and find our mates. She sang ta ME. and yeah, She reminded me, She let moon touch ground, and I . . .I .. . un-snapped, with her love, and Spirit Gal's"
Strong Gal goes soft in tha eyes, softer, even, I guess, and "oh’d" softly. She nods understandin and said, "I'm glad you are getting well again." With a glance to Snappypants, she lisped, "I would perish if my beloved did as well."

He looked reall worried fer a second there again, and I aint quite sure why, or I wasn’t at tha time "that is a touching story Grr and it is good to know there are those that care and will go out of their way to reach for you" I thought I needed ta say more though, cause tha tale wasn’t done. "I . . .I almost killed Spirit Gal, ta free her from tha Thing, I burnt with Sacred Fire, and it worked, fer a little while, I took her ta tha Wide River where the dead go, and nothin can die, and . . .it wasnt enough. then tha Things took Her Ladyship, MY Omega, and I stabbed Her, pinned Her through tha heart to tha wall of tha Library, thats when I snapped. thats when it all went crazy. thats why tha Library kicked me out. But, they came back, and they came back fer me. I wasn't left behind again. I wasn’t left in tha crater. with tha bodies, in tha blood, in tha mud" I started ta loose it again, I remembered tha siege at tha Firebase, tha Indo Felines comin over tha wire, tha barrage, tha whistle and tha fire, tha blast, and tha pain, and what came later, in tha hospital . . . after they eventually found me. I musta been starin off fer a while, I realised I was scratchin at tha scars on my chest, that poked through my open jacket.

Strong Gal asked Snappypants "Is this why you do not wish me to go back into the library?" Snappypants stays silent regarding Brit's question for a while then responds "the events Grr described or part of them were definitely a fragment of the reasons I did not wish you on the road alone during those days" he looked back ta me "as I said, not best is fine as long as you are on your way to best and better is a good waypoint towards that". he nodded over to the newcomers "welcome to the shelter" I snapped back tat ha here and now "but they did, both of them, and all my Family, they all loved me, needed me and were there, and now, now I’m better, not best, but better" I looked over my shoulder and waved "g'day folks, warm and safe in here, food in tha pot, chilli taday, its good" then blinked, shook my head and grined "see, some things come natural, some things, tha things close ta my heart, take some doin . . but yeah, im on tha road ta redemtion . . ." Snappypants repeats rather mumbled "redemption" he mouths the word slowly and goes absent minded for quite some while. I looked Snappypants right in tha eye, noddin "I speak true, Mr Brit, I only had a short span, but I need just as much as those with a longer one, and I think ya understand, too, better than most"

Strong Gal asked me "Grr...is...um....the library safe again?" one of the neew folks perked right up and asked where it was, and I told Strong Gal "far as I know, if Blue Shadow aint bled anywhere, I . .. I need ta talk to tha Spirit, yeah mate, its my home, and Strong Gal here's . .. err. Brit's . . OTHER home" She goes on, telling tha new folks "there is a beautiful library...." She looks to Snappypants and back, "But I cannot go there....these days It has a pretty fireplace...and it is warm.... We used to canoodle in front of the fire place way lots....it's very good place to canoodle." Snappypants took a while to respond and then waited for a moment until there was a silent span again looking back at me "I reckon such a thing has nothing to do with the time we have been given but with our drive for it, that can build up rather magnificently in days and weeks and months and doesn't need aeons. I understand you well. maybe better than most would think, Coyote" he turns to Strong Gal and his previous expression fades into a warmer one. looking over at the couch he grins slightly "good we have not found any rat pieces there in a while"

He called me Coyote, too, fer all his stuffy ways, and bein a Fanger and all, I like Snappypants, he is true ta himself, and sees deep. "a critter's gotta eat, and, tha Felines all seem ta prefer fish in cans . . ." Strong Gal lisped, "It would have been like your dream buffet then...cuz they all exploded from the inside out...everywhere." She looked at tha walls, ceilin, and floor. Snappypants shruged in memory of that "whether it tasted good or not, that sight was rather appalling. even the sight of hundreds of chicken exploding uncooked all over the place is not rather good for appetite" he shook the image off "good thing the chilli smells better, too" he points at the pot on the stove. We talked a bit on tha best ways ta make use of city-meat, burgers and peanut satay, they were my favourite ways. Back ta Strong Gal’s question, I told them both "ha Library is safe. though, too safe fer some, these days, tha Library Spirit was well rankled that tha Horsemen could out-strip Her fer power" Strong Gal nibbled her lower lip and peeks at her mate again. She puffed her cheeks slightly and looks thoughtful, then shaking her head, she said, "I'm glad...it is safe again."

Snappypants gestures goodbye tat ha new folks, I think they will be stopping in at tha Library soon, seemed, clever too, we should look ta recruit em, if they last long. He looked over at Strong Gal like he was half keepin track of what she just thought and not said. I wonder how close their bond is, they seem ta know each others minds pretty close "maybe I will take you again sometime soon"

I grinned and shook my head as they left "kids .. .ha . .. was I ever that young? hell, im still probably younger even . . " Strong Gal nuzzling Snappypants, smiled sayin, "I'd like that....to go again with you...." She smiled real warmly at the thought and cuddled playfully. Then ta me, she said, "I'm glad you are well again...better.....I would have been very sad.....very sad....if you would have lost your way...." Snappypants added "or if you had perished..." he nods several times after the statement. "after all, you are very set to your sense of duty and no-one can really keep his track constantly without exception, you are rather of the reliable sort when you are not in the worst state, just as long as it is good, better or best" he caresses Strong Gal's hair slowly "we should do that soon"

"well, we'd like that, Strong Gal, Mr Brit, we'd like ta see ya both there, and yeah, Kin, Pack, Blood. Duty ta all three" That got her thinking, and she puzzled over my Words. Tha motto I learnt as my first words. "Kin... Pack.... Blood. Kin is family? Pack... is...... um Blood.... like sharing as I do with Ethan?" Snappypants blinks up at her question and looks ta me with a slightly amused grin on his face "interesting question I would say, though I think the initial meaning was meant to be a bit different" So I tried ta explain so she’s understand. "kin, thats my own kind, tha other shifters, Pack, thats family, like you . . . and blood, that’s, those I would fight for, shed blood for, and beside, my brothers and sisters in arms" Strong Gal, sharp mind she’s got in there, asked me a real good question, something that’s hard ta explain ta civilians. "what is the difference between family and blood?" I give it a shot, in terms I think she’ll follow "Family, is all of those I would protect, who protect me, my future, my dear ones, my Beloveds"

Snappypants coughed unnecessarily to conceal the plural form of the "Beloved" word like he was hoping it went unnoticed, then nodded "family is important to any animal, including humans mind you" he didn’t seem to exclude himself from the animal description and nudges Brit with the side of his cheek, that’s good, that’s what I hoped, and expected ta see, that’s why they are good tagether.
"Blood, are those I respect for their strength, and their sacrifice, their fulfillin of duty with their bodies ahh, yeah, not tha same . . .that, that’s what I would call Pack, in yer case, Strong Gal, you and Mr Brit there, a pack of two." Snappypants grinned wide and repeated me mouthin it slowly "Mr Brit" he turns to her and nudges her again "you see, I am your pack" he looks back to me "you see, I do only work in a pack that big, I could not have a larger pack than that" he looks back ta her "nor will I ever need to" She wonders fer a moment "That is not very many... Perhaps Gweneth is part of the pack." She looks to him and shrugged, "When she is near.... she came when it was important for her to be here Maybe two....is enough... Beloveds rather than a pack, maybe." Ahh, see, this is what Snappypants was wonderin over. "I understand that, its in tha nature of most two-legs ta make a small Family, but, well, I was never like that, I was born in a litter of six, my kind, we'd have big Families, lots of uncles and aunts ta look ta us, and care fer us, but, in tha zoo, there was only us . . ." Strong Gal muses some more. "I only had Pars...then....Denny and the people in the library....then...Ethan." Trailin her fingers through his head fur, she lisped, "And....our marriage is not cursed....and....we will not divorce....... and..... Ethan will always be my beloved...and my one and only. Denny is not usually unkind."

Snappypants shifts a bit uncomfortable in the sofa "Gwen is like adopted family but not pack, it is more like a child, that now is old and is not supposed to live at home anymore staying out there to hunt and be on her own" he shrugged and looks to his mate "you like beloveds more? beloveds it will remain" he shakes his head again "stop thinking about what Denny said, he was just rambling, baby" This is my cue ta tell em how I felt about tha two of them. I was reall worried, when I first noticed Strong Gal, well, becoming Strong Gal, but, I think I see what and why, now "I think yer marriage is one of tha best things thats ever happened in this city" and I can leave it at that.