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.