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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.
Showing posts with label Moon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Moon. Show all posts
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Thursday, October 30, 2008
New Moon
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a pencil entry, in a much neater hand, dated 29/10/2008
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New moon, old faces
Three or four days a moon, when Luna hides her face, I get stuck in Fleshie. Every moon. It amazes me how few people notice, and get surprised when they see me, or, don’t see me, as tha case may be. They see tha monkey part of me, tha part I got from my sire. My dam was wild-born four legged, she was with-pup when they brought her to tha Melbourne zoo from tha deserts in America-land. Luna’s joke is how tha men in tha white coats with tha nets and tranq gun and army boots knew which one of my litter was tha Shifter. One night when tha moon rose, and hid her face, and ta-da I wake up cold and sore, on tha hard lumpy ground, and my littermates backing away growlin and whinin. There was me, all Fleshie and stumbling like a new-foaled-deer.
Then came tha bright lights, tha men with tha darts, tha nets. Then came wakin up in another pen, with tha biggest, meanest wolf I’d ever seen. Then came tha trainin. Talkin. Army indoctrination. Military trainin. Hand ta Hand, Claw ta Hand, knives, swords, all kinds of small guns ta big guns. Grenades, and launchers. Drivin. Artillery. Chemical weapons. Torture. Infiltration, sabotage and trackin. All tha great things that Humans have brought inta tha world ta take other Humans outta it. Humans and tha rest of us. Detailed files on tha habits, weaknesses and traits of tha other things that go bump in tha night. How ta kill, capture or evade. All because tha moon shunted me inta Fleshie one night in tha zoo.
And people wonder why I don’t like it. As if that wasn’t bad enough, after that fuckin goddess forsaken siege in Timor when I got blown ta shit but that 90mm, and tha vets put me back tagether, tha shrapnel they left behind would tear me up inside whenever I Changed. Whether I did tha Change myself or Luna did it fer me, that left over metal would shred meat as I Changed. For three years, every moon, every Change. Takes a lot ta scar a Shifter, and I got a lot of scarrin from that shell. Not all of it was to meat, neither, some of it was ta grey matter.
So between tha fear of that remembered monthly agony, and tha fact that Tox aint a safe place, I stick in my War-Form as much as I can. Things are better in my War-Form. I’m warm, got fur, claws, fangs, my ears swivel good, I can SMELL stuff. Tha up sides of bein Fleshie are pretty few. I can see in colour. That’s cool. I get a lot more female attention, and I can’t say that’s not good, neither, and if I was on tha mainland, maybe I’d be happier in it more often. Tha biggest upside? Her Ladyship prefers tha way I look like this. I like ta make her happy. Feels good. Even brings a smile ta Spirit Gals face, too, even though she kinda likes my War Form better, I think.
Its Luna's gag, ta force me ta learn ta accept my Fleshie side, i guess, ta better fit in with tha Fleshie world, seein as i walk half and half. Great. Thanks a lot, Luna. Three or four days, and im Fleshie, three or four days I really gotta watch my tail.
Or . . .not, as tha case may be.
a pencil entry, in a much neater hand, dated 29/10/2008
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New moon, old faces
Three or four days a moon, when Luna hides her face, I get stuck in Fleshie. Every moon. It amazes me how few people notice, and get surprised when they see me, or, don’t see me, as tha case may be. They see tha monkey part of me, tha part I got from my sire. My dam was wild-born four legged, she was with-pup when they brought her to tha Melbourne zoo from tha deserts in America-land. Luna’s joke is how tha men in tha white coats with tha nets and tranq gun and army boots knew which one of my litter was tha Shifter. One night when tha moon rose, and hid her face, and ta-da I wake up cold and sore, on tha hard lumpy ground, and my littermates backing away growlin and whinin. There was me, all Fleshie and stumbling like a new-foaled-deer.
Then came tha bright lights, tha men with tha darts, tha nets. Then came wakin up in another pen, with tha biggest, meanest wolf I’d ever seen. Then came tha trainin. Talkin. Army indoctrination. Military trainin. Hand ta Hand, Claw ta Hand, knives, swords, all kinds of small guns ta big guns. Grenades, and launchers. Drivin. Artillery. Chemical weapons. Torture. Infiltration, sabotage and trackin. All tha great things that Humans have brought inta tha world ta take other Humans outta it. Humans and tha rest of us. Detailed files on tha habits, weaknesses and traits of tha other things that go bump in tha night. How ta kill, capture or evade. All because tha moon shunted me inta Fleshie one night in tha zoo.
And people wonder why I don’t like it. As if that wasn’t bad enough, after that fuckin goddess forsaken siege in Timor when I got blown ta shit but that 90mm, and tha vets put me back tagether, tha shrapnel they left behind would tear me up inside whenever I Changed. Whether I did tha Change myself or Luna did it fer me, that left over metal would shred meat as I Changed. For three years, every moon, every Change. Takes a lot ta scar a Shifter, and I got a lot of scarrin from that shell. Not all of it was to meat, neither, some of it was ta grey matter.
So between tha fear of that remembered monthly agony, and tha fact that Tox aint a safe place, I stick in my War-Form as much as I can. Things are better in my War-Form. I’m warm, got fur, claws, fangs, my ears swivel good, I can SMELL stuff. Tha up sides of bein Fleshie are pretty few. I can see in colour. That’s cool. I get a lot more female attention, and I can’t say that’s not good, neither, and if I was on tha mainland, maybe I’d be happier in it more often. Tha biggest upside? Her Ladyship prefers tha way I look like this. I like ta make her happy. Feels good. Even brings a smile ta Spirit Gals face, too, even though she kinda likes my War Form better, I think.
Its Luna's gag, ta force me ta learn ta accept my Fleshie side, i guess, ta better fit in with tha Fleshie world, seein as i walk half and half. Great. Thanks a lot, Luna. Three or four days, and im Fleshie, three or four days I really gotta watch my tail.
Or . . .not, as tha case may be.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Tha Dance
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Pencil note, hastily jotted, as if on the move, dated 22/10/2008
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come dance by the fire,
come dance by the sea,
come dance for our loved ones,
come, dance beside me.
Pencil note, hastily jotted, as if on the move, dated 22/10/2008
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come dance by the fire,
come dance by the sea,
come dance for our loved ones,
come, dance beside me.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
tha Dance, tha Song, i Know
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messy pencil note, dated 6/7/08
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much as i love livin in Tox (ha, tha livin part, especially) sometimes, a time away does a critter wonders. I managed ta slip away fer a goodly time and loose myself in warm breezes, and deep eyes.
i have rested, stuck in my Fleshie form by tha laughin grace of Lady Phoebe, in arms heated by tha Secret Flame, safer and more secure than in tha center of a brigade. I have slept and woken, and slept again, knowin no harm could come ta me.
it occured ta me this might be selfish. which isn't normal fer me. even that though was swift ta pass. there were still things ta do, but they were not Duty. there were things ta see, but it was no Mission. there were people ta shepherd but there were no Targets.
tha weight of my short years seemed ta slide away as again, She made it clear that it was who i was inside that was important ta Her, not tha scope of tha deeds i could manage. Tha feelins i have could not be greater, and seems in this chest, under tha scars, i got a heart big enough fer all of it, fer ALL those what i hold dear.
i'm blessed by bein able ta share these feelins, as best i may, in this world er tha Other. in tha spinnin Dance, in tha breathless Song, in tha looks shared by us that Know.
Always.
messy pencil note, dated 6/7/08
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much as i love livin in Tox (ha, tha livin part, especially) sometimes, a time away does a critter wonders. I managed ta slip away fer a goodly time and loose myself in warm breezes, and deep eyes.
i have rested, stuck in my Fleshie form by tha laughin grace of Lady Phoebe, in arms heated by tha Secret Flame, safer and more secure than in tha center of a brigade. I have slept and woken, and slept again, knowin no harm could come ta me.
it occured ta me this might be selfish. which isn't normal fer me. even that though was swift ta pass. there were still things ta do, but they were not Duty. there were things ta see, but it was no Mission. there were people ta shepherd but there were no Targets.
tha weight of my short years seemed ta slide away as again, She made it clear that it was who i was inside that was important ta Her, not tha scope of tha deeds i could manage. Tha feelins i have could not be greater, and seems in this chest, under tha scars, i got a heart big enough fer all of it, fer ALL those what i hold dear.
i'm blessed by bein able ta share these feelins, as best i may, in this world er tha Other. in tha spinnin Dance, in tha breathless Song, in tha looks shared by us that Know.
Always.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Why I talk like I do.
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Pencil note, scribbled in a passably legible hand. Dated 3/6/08
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I got ta thinkin, after some laughin yesterday. I don’t talk pretty, I don’t get some of tha tricky double meanins of words sometimes. I think I do awright but. Thing is, I learnt ta talk after getting yanked from Melbourne Zoo by tha DSTO goons who dropped me off to tha 7RAR-L. What’s tha big deal ya ask? How long did it take ya ta learn ta talk? When did ya start? How many kids were in ya class? Did ya family all come around ta see ya? Let me tell ya, that’s not how it went fer me.
They got a special program fer us ferrals, tha Four-Leggers, ta educate and train. It'd start with another , older Shifter cominin and establishin dominance, and communicatin like that, buildin a bond. Same one came in when I was Fleshie and did tha same till I got it. Then there was object ID: ball, box, chair. Kids stuff. Just like any Fleshie family would, I guess, except I was full grown. A man ta look at. Retarded, some mighta thought, some stupid enough ta say after I learnt what it meant. Eventually they got tha picture. As soon as I was good enough ta get taught other stuff say, sam Trainin. Took about a year ta get there. I got lots of exercise durrin that year too, mind, and Shiftin practice, so I could take all my forms as I pleased, Moon phase allowin. I'm a fast learner. I read slow, but I never had much ta read or time ta do it in.
When I 'graduated' from talkin school I had been house-trained and given tha basics of Fleshie social skills. Only as much as was needed fer a Drill Sergeant ta work with. All that "Sir, yes Sir" stuff, military indoctrantion, weapons and tactics and tha like. That’s when I got tha specialized anti-non-human trainin too. With that came folklore, myth and both sciency and arcane learnin. How did all thif affect how I talk? Well, I learnt ta talk proper in tha baracks, with tha other Snarls. I been told I swear a lot, well, what did ya fuckin think, I was gunna do? Stuck way out in tha bush 2 days run from a town, on a secret Army base inland north Queensland.
Tha other thing I got was movies. Unlike my Two-Leg cousins, I never grew up in Fleshie society, fer better or worse. That meant I didn't "get" a lot of thins about how Feshies did stuff, and they couldn't afford ta let me lose in public, we got kept on-base any time we weren't in-country. So I got ta watch a lot of movies. Some of them were even required learnin. Platoon, Full Metal Jacket, Rambo: First Blood, Sniper, Heartbreak Ridge, Hamburger Hill, Gladiator, Navy SEALS, Predator, Henry V, Black Hawk Down, We Were Soldiers, 300, Dog Soldiers, Galipolli, Tha Light Horsemen, Aliens, Soldier, Patton, Tha Battle of Tha Bulge. All kinds of good stuff in there. Taught me all kinds of thins about Fleshie society and how ta be a good soldier. How ta talk socialy. How ta interact with civilians.
So if ya wonder some time why I talk like I do, think who taught me ta, and how.
Pencil note, scribbled in a passably legible hand. Dated 3/6/08
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I got ta thinkin, after some laughin yesterday. I don’t talk pretty, I don’t get some of tha tricky double meanins of words sometimes. I think I do awright but. Thing is, I learnt ta talk after getting yanked from Melbourne Zoo by tha DSTO goons who dropped me off to tha 7RAR-L. What’s tha big deal ya ask? How long did it take ya ta learn ta talk? When did ya start? How many kids were in ya class? Did ya family all come around ta see ya? Let me tell ya, that’s not how it went fer me.
They got a special program fer us ferrals, tha Four-Leggers, ta educate and train. It'd start with another , older Shifter cominin and establishin dominance, and communicatin like that, buildin a bond. Same one came in when I was Fleshie and did tha same till I got it. Then there was object ID: ball, box, chair. Kids stuff. Just like any Fleshie family would, I guess, except I was full grown. A man ta look at. Retarded, some mighta thought, some stupid enough ta say after I learnt what it meant. Eventually they got tha picture. As soon as I was good enough ta get taught other stuff say, sam Trainin. Took about a year ta get there. I got lots of exercise durrin that year too, mind, and Shiftin practice, so I could take all my forms as I pleased, Moon phase allowin. I'm a fast learner. I read slow, but I never had much ta read or time ta do it in.
When I 'graduated' from talkin school I had been house-trained and given tha basics of Fleshie social skills. Only as much as was needed fer a Drill Sergeant ta work with. All that "Sir, yes Sir" stuff, military indoctrantion, weapons and tactics and tha like. That’s when I got tha specialized anti-non-human trainin too. With that came folklore, myth and both sciency and arcane learnin. How did all thif affect how I talk? Well, I learnt ta talk proper in tha baracks, with tha other Snarls. I been told I swear a lot, well, what did ya fuckin think, I was gunna do? Stuck way out in tha bush 2 days run from a town, on a secret Army base inland north Queensland.
Tha other thing I got was movies. Unlike my Two-Leg cousins, I never grew up in Fleshie society, fer better or worse. That meant I didn't "get" a lot of thins about how Feshies did stuff, and they couldn't afford ta let me lose in public, we got kept on-base any time we weren't in-country. So I got ta watch a lot of movies. Some of them were even required learnin. Platoon, Full Metal Jacket, Rambo: First Blood, Sniper, Heartbreak Ridge, Hamburger Hill, Gladiator, Navy SEALS, Predator, Henry V, Black Hawk Down, We Were Soldiers, 300, Dog Soldiers, Galipolli, Tha Light Horsemen, Aliens, Soldier, Patton, Tha Battle of Tha Bulge. All kinds of good stuff in there. Taught me all kinds of thins about Fleshie society and how ta be a good soldier. How ta talk socialy. How ta interact with civilians.
So if ya wonder some time why I talk like I do, think who taught me ta, and how.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
"Stand-up, hook-up, shuffle to the door"
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Pencil entry dated 19-05-08, in a even messier hand than normal
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Tha streets were empty, Tha Library slept and I was at a loose end, so I hit Haven. I sat fer a while, just soakin back inta tha groove of Tox after runnin wild in tha bush fer a day or two. I had answered tha call of tha Hunt, and it was good. Fresh, lean and rich meat. Fur and hoof in my jaws. Tha sacred connection tween me, my prey and Tha Goddess. Funny how folks seem ta ferget there's a big wide world out there. Too scared of tha wolf beyond tha treeline maybe. Anyways, I had come back and after readin tha exec summaries and seein as there weren't any pressin disasters ta avert, I had my self a sit and even got myself one of my "Magic Hair Attractin Potions". Just sittin, chattin. I met Marvin tha Charmin Bot, nice guy, stiff upper lip, even fer a Bot. .. Folks came and went, and I ended up behind tha bar, familiar ground, even though i've not spent much time there recently. More important stuff ta be doin.
In walks Her Ladyship, kind of lack luster, preoccupied I guess she looked. Severus followed not too far, so I figured that's what it was, that She'd had her fill and was riding the buzz. That one has a way, eye-catchin' if a bit sooky. She kinda came in and just slumped though. I started fixin Her favorite tipple, Hungarian Absinthe, full treatment, but she just sat there, and muttered Severus' name tha once. She didn't even seem ta notice me and that bothered me more than anythin else. I wasn't bein ignored, I can tell when someone has spotted me but is ignorin me, a predators gift, ya could say. She seemed, in a trance, and with tha scents Severus was waftin off, as he loitered, I thought maybe he had done a number on The Lady. I know if there is any thing She hates more than snivelling, its loosin control, so I stepped to, and got around tha bar ta see Her.
She was kinda pale, even fer Her, I was worried about shock or trauma, but it didn't look like it. I tried ta reach ta Her and She snarled at Choi. I started ta see what was wrong. She was starvin, but fightin tha need ta feed. I stepped up, and took Her hands in me paws and spoke ta Her, tryin ta get through ta Her. I spoke, nothin, I touched, nothin, I looked deep, deep, nothin. I had only one trick left ta me. Its somethin that’s bothered me fer as long as i've been fortunate enough ta know Tha Lady. I know its fuckin pissweak of me, but its a matter of pride, of respect. I had ta put both aside, because that’s what I needed ta do. It was a choice between my stupid hang-up and tha well bein of Tha Lady. You do tha math.
So I called to Her by name. I sucked it up and spoke Her name ta her face. Big fuckin deal, right? Wrong. What’s in a name ya ask? Well, I guess its just a matter of different folk usin tha same word fer two things yeah? Well, i'll put it like this. I call tha females of my kind bitches, my mother a dam but I know not ta call anybody else that, they don't take kindly to it. When we did a Joint Op. with some Yank Shifters one time, two of tha big blackfella's called each other "Nigga" but ya can bet yer last beer that none of their Fleshie support woulda fuckin dreamed of sayin it out-loud. Well, Omega ain't just a name, not just tha last letter of a Med language. Its a rank in a pack. Tha lowest. Tha one ya beat on ta show ya can. Every pack has one. Its one step above Outcast. Tha Toxian Pack called their Eldest "omega" but that ain't right. You fuck up badly enough but not -quite- bad enough ta be killed or cast out, ya get a turn ta be "omega" and still may get killed or crippled by tha fightin that filters down.
It's Tha Lady's name. I know no one else in Tox even considers that, it's just me. But i've never said it. I just couldn't. Until last nights. It was just my stupid hang-up. She needed help. I needed to. So I stood-up, hooked-up and took tha plunge. I called Her by name. Names have power. She's tha only one who makes tha effort ta say my full name. Most can't do it right. Fleshies can’t. Tears up their throats too much. So I told myself that as She does fer me, so I do fer Her. I called her name and She looked me in tha eye. I reached Her. It was gonna be ok I kept tellin myself. I managed ta get Her to stand and outa tha Haven.
I walked Her, hands in paws back across tha street and back inta Tha Library. I told Her that it was safe, that She could be who She was, what She was, with me. I locked eyes, hopin ta hold Her attention there as I did what I had ta. It ain't pretty, watchin me Shift, tha pain, it takes tha pretty away. Last thing I want is ta spook Her now, but at least I got her away from pryin eyes. I keep her stare. I make the start of my Shift. Now don't get me wrong, I ain't a shrinkin violet when it comes ta tha rough and tumble. I've been shot and stabbed more times than i've had hot showers, clawed, bit, and near blown in half by artillery. Pain and me got a long history. It was that arty strike that left its little presents lodged in my chest and spine. Shifter healin can be fast, and in my case, sometimes too fast. I healed over tha shrapnel, it fused with my bones, and they told me in rehab they couldn't cut it out without killin me, and I was too valuable a resource ta risk it just fer my comfort. So now when I Shift, I get all cut up inside as tha shrapnel gets dragged around. Bastard.
Where was I? Oh, Her Ladyship. I kept my eyes on hers. They don't change much, my eyes, when I Shift, and I kept tha pain in as best I could so she'd not know, faught ta hold hands but not crunch down, not ta cry out. So I made it. Why change? I'm not blind, i'm feral, i'm not stupid, I knew what Her Ladyship needed and that "an animal" wasn't on tha menu. I can see tha look that changes from one phase of Tha Moon to another. She'd never ask, Lady Omega, she doesn't want ta cause me hurt, ta Change. But it was what She needed and need outweighs comfort. Its tha way of Nature. She was kind of daunted, dazed maybe, strugglin ta keep control. I brought Her over to Her chair, sat Her down and kinda knelt there. She put Her hand on my cheek, and I put mine on hers. I kept talkin ta Her, gentle reassurance. Lettin Her know it was ok, that I knew what I was doin. That I was doin it on purpose. I heard Severus chortle. Too busy preenin and poutin ta act ta fix tha problem. I offered Her Ladyship my throat, submission to those of higher station, supportin my Alpha, Omega. I felt Her hunger as she began the Taking.
Needful, but not rough, gentle as She could, all told, she drank deep. I've heard that tha Taking can feel different ta all kinds, and that it's as much ta do with tha intent of tha Fanger as anything else. I felt tha bite, no more than than tha pressure and tha moments flash of, connection. Its a shared thing. I can't say it hurt, not coming so close to a Change, ain't much that can compare ta that. I don't know if I can say it felt good, neither, more right ta say it felt, relaxin, accomplishin, fulflllin. Maybe that was me, maybe it was Her. Maybe it was Coyote givin me a pat on tha back fer makin up fer one more life.
I can't believe She'd had ta go so long without. That was tha last thing I remember thinkin till I felt Her let me go. I could feel myself slippin off ta unconsciousness, I revert, see, ta my native Four-Legs, and I was a little worried but my last thought was why? I don't know what'd have happened if i'd not been back. I know She woulda been ashamed if She'd gone too far, and lost it, but where had her Red and White been? I passed out, like a pup, and didn't feel nor hear nothin fer a long while. I dreampt. Not of Timor. That’s important. I usually dream of tha blood, mud and tears. I usually dream of tha Medic tent and tha cage. Since I been in tha Institute its been better, but, that’s a lot of memory ta get over. Not this time though. I was runnin, long grass, Autumn. Forest on one side, rocky mountains ta tha other. I dreampt of tha Hunt. Of bringing down Deer, sharing the Feast, taking a bone to the Cubs to gnaw and worry. The feel of the bite of the alpha for Her share of the Feast. Seeing the pack strong, fed, together. The chill of winter ruffled my fur, and I woke to the sound of soft voices and fire.
I was in tha Library. The moon had wheeled an hour on her way. I sat, stretched and looked about, and was rewarded with a fond touch from Her Ladyship. She looked much better, shades in her tones were darker. She was talkin ta Lari, i'm not sure what, i was kinda out of it still, but i'd slept well, and recovered. Much better than when i had been New-Mooned, maybe second time i was ready fer it, maybe i healed faster. Her Baby, they were talkin about Lari's baby, how it was due real soon. Lari was gettin kinda fidgity, and Her Ladyship and she had a soft laugh about somethin. I heard Nareth's name, and then they both smiled. I can only hope its good things, and that tha baby is comin along well. She;s been so tired recently. will be good ta have her and her pup about, a bright spark of life in Tox. Somethin good. Eventually, i realised i was missin too much, bein in my Native, so, i excused myself, and Shifted back to my War-Form, which, combined with havin awready had a touch of tha Taking, made fer a bit of a strain. All good in tha end, tha Light was back in Her eyes.
Stand up, hook up, shuffle to the door
Jump right out and count to four
It my main don't open wide
I've gotta reserve by my side
If that one should fail me
I'll be the first on on tha ground
Thats what matters, i was there, i helped, i took tha plunge, because it was tha right fuckin thing ta do. And it was.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Pencil doodle
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untitled pencil doodle
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(adapted from Karen Kalacher's online store http://www.cafepress.com/ozmia, with thanks for their talent!)
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Her
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Pen entry on damp loose paper, the ink has bleed somewhat during the writing process, but only smudged occasionally, numerous sections have been crossed out into oblivion.
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been wonderin if i should write somethin here about Her. Her tha person, not Her tha Goddess, although, i suppose tha two could be exchanged, from time ta time. Been wonderin, rather than just doin, because i wonder if i'd be puttin her at risk, by writin about Her here. SO i guess i'll call Her, well Her, and leave it at that.
where ta begin? i wonder. Well, i guess it all begins in tha Haven, when i was doin a lot of tendin there, well before i left Tha Pack, just ta pass tha time, and scope out tha scene, and She was there, on and off, time ta time, sometimes in front of tha bar, sometimes behind it. We had some chat, knew some of tha same peoples, and basically, that was it. I was runnin fairly average in those days, feelin a bit lonely fer company, as tha lass i had had my eye on, and paws from time to tiem, had up and scooted, kinda leavin me hangin. So i wasn't really lookin around fer prospective partners, just kinda mopin and keepin my fur on, day ta day.
Dunno if She had made eyes back then, or not, i was kinda inward and at tha same time, all outward, ya know? Anyways, things were flowin on pretty normal like, tha usual Tox bollocks, and i was keepin my eyes peeled and ears swivlin. Spring came around, and i was hit pretty hard by tha love bug, all mopin and huffin, which, i can tell ya, weren't faked, when tha Season calls, we follow . . . Thing was, i guess, bein a bartender, i get ta talkin and empathisin with folks, and She had had a pretty down experience herself in tha matters of tha heart, and pants.
So there i was, mopin, watchin all these couples gettin tagether, moonin all over each other, havin a grand old time, and just gettin deeper and deeper in a funk, and She was real nice, and hcatted with me, and told me it would all work out. Real Priestess-like, ya know? got ta tha heart of tha thing. Well, it was hard goin fer me, but, at least no one was gunner fer my head or anything, so, i shrugged, and got back ta the Scoutin buisness. Then Tha Pack all went over ta tha way of tha war-beast and i made myself even more alone. Nice one Grr, ya tool, just when ya need company the most, ya make yerself an outcast ta boot . . .
My friends at tha Haven were all real good ta me, lettin me know that i'd made a call fer good, not just because i was poutin, or anythin. She was one of tha stronger voices, healin my burnt heart like any good Den-Mother would, she has tha touch of tha Goddess to her, like i told ya awready. We had some good long talks then, even took her out mutie-fishin, when my temper got ta me. Got a couple of good ones that time too, had ta unload a few clips from tha M4, and a few from tha Sniper too, but it was a good fishin day. We got ta talkin again and sharin some outlooks. I caught some hints, but though it was all just good bar-side flirtin, and her friends and mine started givin us both tha hard word.
I guess i still didn't get it, must have wool in my ears, i tell ya. Anyways, after quite a few of these chats, well, and some pokin from tha other bar-flys, this one time, when we happened ta be closin up, all alone and She all of a sudden, well, she lent over and kissed me. I guess it kinda snuck up on me, who'd have thought. All of a sudden i saw Her as more than just a hot friend who seemed ta understand where i was comin from, what i was runnin from, and where i was headin. I saw her as someone who might want ta share more than just time at tha bar.
She's got tha cutest swishing butt too . . .
Pen entry on damp loose paper, the ink has bleed somewhat during the writing process, but only smudged occasionally, numerous sections have been crossed out into oblivion.
=====================================
been wonderin if i should write somethin here about Her. Her tha person, not Her tha Goddess, although, i suppose tha two could be exchanged, from time ta time. Been wonderin, rather than just doin, because i wonder if i'd be puttin her at risk, by writin about Her here. SO i guess i'll call Her, well Her, and leave it at that.
where ta begin? i wonder. Well, i guess it all begins in tha Haven, when i was doin a lot of tendin there, well before i left Tha Pack, just ta pass tha time, and scope out tha scene, and She was there, on and off, time ta time, sometimes in front of tha bar, sometimes behind it. We had some chat, knew some of tha same peoples, and basically, that was it. I was runnin fairly average in those days, feelin a bit lonely fer company, as tha lass i had had my eye on, and paws from time to tiem, had up and scooted, kinda leavin me hangin. So i wasn't really lookin around fer prospective partners, just kinda mopin and keepin my fur on, day ta day.
Dunno if She had made eyes back then, or not, i was kinda inward and at tha same time, all outward, ya know? Anyways, things were flowin on pretty normal like, tha usual Tox bollocks, and i was keepin my eyes peeled and ears swivlin. Spring came around, and i was hit pretty hard by tha love bug, all mopin and huffin, which, i can tell ya, weren't faked, when tha Season calls, we follow . . . Thing was, i guess, bein a bartender, i get ta talkin and empathisin with folks, and She had had a pretty down experience herself in tha matters of tha heart, and pants.
So there i was, mopin, watchin all these couples gettin tagether, moonin all over each other, havin a grand old time, and just gettin deeper and deeper in a funk, and She was real nice, and hcatted with me, and told me it would all work out. Real Priestess-like, ya know? got ta tha heart of tha thing. Well, it was hard goin fer me, but, at least no one was gunner fer my head or anything, so, i shrugged, and got back ta the Scoutin buisness. Then Tha Pack all went over ta tha way of tha war-beast and i made myself even more alone. Nice one Grr, ya tool, just when ya need company the most, ya make yerself an outcast ta boot . . .
My friends at tha Haven were all real good ta me, lettin me know that i'd made a call fer good, not just because i was poutin, or anythin. She was one of tha stronger voices, healin my burnt heart like any good Den-Mother would, she has tha touch of tha Goddess to her, like i told ya awready. We had some good long talks then, even took her out mutie-fishin, when my temper got ta me. Got a couple of good ones that time too, had ta unload a few clips from tha M4, and a few from tha Sniper too, but it was a good fishin day. We got ta talkin again and sharin some outlooks. I caught some hints, but though it was all just good bar-side flirtin, and her friends and mine started givin us both tha hard word.
I guess i still didn't get it, must have wool in my ears, i tell ya. Anyways, after quite a few of these chats, well, and some pokin from tha other bar-flys, this one time, when we happened ta be closin up, all alone and She all of a sudden, well, she lent over and kissed me. I guess it kinda snuck up on me, who'd have thought. All of a sudden i saw Her as more than just a hot friend who seemed ta understand where i was comin from, what i was runnin from, and where i was headin. I saw her as someone who might want ta share more than just time at tha bar.
She's got tha cutest swishing butt too . . .
Saturday, April 12, 2008
being Home
===================================
Pencil entry dated 12/4/08
===================================
today when i padded inta tha Library, i found Lorne and Brit standin about. Lorne had just got in too, and i have no idea where Brit goes when she aint there. I asked how they were goin, and as soon as i had closed my yap, Brit hit me with a cheery barrage of questions.
Still not a person?
When do i change?
Does it hurt?
Can i change one part at as time?
What can i change?
All in tha one breath, stumped me fer a bit, till Lorne spoke up tellin me that Brit "often asks all her questions at once", so, what could i do, i tried ta it as best i could, i don't mind talkin ta Brit about anythin, she's well, so open, and tha truth is, i think that she shoulda been told a lot more, sooner, she's not a pup anymore, but i get tha feel she's like one, inside.
So, i told her about my three forms: Fleshie, War and Native, i told her about tha bloody prankster that Luna is, and that how these days it hurts ta change, cause of tha shrapnel that i carry about in me body, and why no one has been able ta fish it out of me yet.
She got all worried about me, which was real sweet, cause, well, i'm this big hulkin scarred war-vet Shifter, right? well, i tried ta ease her fears, let her know i was awright, and that it was just a few minutes a month, that i didn't Shift all that often in Tox, it bein safer fer me in my War-Form and that even if somone tried ta magic them out, because of tha way i've healed about tha chunks, i'd been told i could die from it, and thast, anyway, feelin pain like that did a couple of good things fer me.
First up, it makes any other pain i get dealt on just wash right over me, which is a bonus, i guess, givin tha dangers of scoutin in places where yer often not wanted, and capture is always a risk, but second, it gives me an insight when i'm medicin folks, lets me tie inta their pain, and gives me a better chance at helpin em.
Twas after that, that Lorne spoke up, told me it was good "I always could see the good in somethin", and we got ta talkin about me havin been put on tha books of tha Institute, and he approved. This really meant a lot ta me, Lorne bein tha first Omegan i got ta talkin to way back when, and knowin that he and tha others thought it was a good thin ta have me. I'm still not sure what i'm gonna bring ta tha Unit, but, hell, anythin i got and anythin i not got yet is what i'll give.
Nic came on in, as Brit was practicin her "swoonin" and they had a giggly good time, which is always warmin ta my heart. Ya spend enough time stalkin through tha bloody jungle on "double-slow silent-hunt" huntin down escaped kiddie witnesses ta massacres, and well, its good ta be around folks who aint either terrified of ya or don't know yer there till yer on them and SHOULD be terrified of ya. Not that i think many of tha Omegas would be terrified of me, considerin who and what most of em are. Still tha good thing is that they have brought me in, and welcomed me more than just ta sit by their fire, but ta be part of somethin, somethin good.
So, i got a bit restless, and figured it was time ta take a run. Gotta keep tha claws ground down ya know. Well, i got tha distinct feelin that Nic was givin me tha once over, which, well, made me blush, i could feel that hit me ears, so, out i ducked, givin proper respects ta tha Library on my way out. Out inta tha night, and off i ducked. Quicker than tha arrow from tha Tartars bow.
Still not a "person", i guess, but, at least, they like me and want me ta be around. . .
Pencil entry dated 12/4/08
===================================
today when i padded inta tha Library, i found Lorne and Brit standin about. Lorne had just got in too, and i have no idea where Brit goes when she aint there. I asked how they were goin, and as soon as i had closed my yap, Brit hit me with a cheery barrage of questions.
Still not a person?
When do i change?
Does it hurt?
Can i change one part at as time?
What can i change?
All in tha one breath, stumped me fer a bit, till Lorne spoke up tellin me that Brit "often asks all her questions at once", so, what could i do, i tried ta it as best i could, i don't mind talkin ta Brit about anythin, she's well, so open, and tha truth is, i think that she shoulda been told a lot more, sooner, she's not a pup anymore, but i get tha feel she's like one, inside.
So, i told her about my three forms: Fleshie, War and Native, i told her about tha bloody prankster that Luna is, and that how these days it hurts ta change, cause of tha shrapnel that i carry about in me body, and why no one has been able ta fish it out of me yet.
She got all worried about me, which was real sweet, cause, well, i'm this big hulkin scarred war-vet Shifter, right? well, i tried ta ease her fears, let her know i was awright, and that it was just a few minutes a month, that i didn't Shift all that often in Tox, it bein safer fer me in my War-Form and that even if somone tried ta magic them out, because of tha way i've healed about tha chunks, i'd been told i could die from it, and thast, anyway, feelin pain like that did a couple of good things fer me.
First up, it makes any other pain i get dealt on just wash right over me, which is a bonus, i guess, givin tha dangers of scoutin in places where yer often not wanted, and capture is always a risk, but second, it gives me an insight when i'm medicin folks, lets me tie inta their pain, and gives me a better chance at helpin em.
Twas after that, that Lorne spoke up, told me it was good "I always could see the good in somethin", and we got ta talkin about me havin been put on tha books of tha Institute, and he approved. This really meant a lot ta me, Lorne bein tha first Omegan i got ta talkin to way back when, and knowin that he and tha others thought it was a good thin ta have me. I'm still not sure what i'm gonna bring ta tha Unit, but, hell, anythin i got and anythin i not got yet is what i'll give.
Nic came on in, as Brit was practicin her "swoonin" and they had a giggly good time, which is always warmin ta my heart. Ya spend enough time stalkin through tha bloody jungle on "double-slow silent-hunt" huntin down escaped kiddie witnesses ta massacres, and well, its good ta be around folks who aint either terrified of ya or don't know yer there till yer on them and SHOULD be terrified of ya. Not that i think many of tha Omegas would be terrified of me, considerin who and what most of em are. Still tha good thing is that they have brought me in, and welcomed me more than just ta sit by their fire, but ta be part of somethin, somethin good.
So, i got a bit restless, and figured it was time ta take a run. Gotta keep tha claws ground down ya know. Well, i got tha distinct feelin that Nic was givin me tha once over, which, well, made me blush, i could feel that hit me ears, so, out i ducked, givin proper respects ta tha Library on my way out. Out inta tha night, and off i ducked. Quicker than tha arrow from tha Tartars bow.
Still not a "person", i guess, but, at least, they like me and want me ta be around. . .
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Walkabout
===================================================
Musings of the life of Grr.
===================================================
Its been almost a full turn of the moon since The Pack changed its colours. Almost a full turn of the moon since a devoted member laid down his markings and broke ranks. Its been almost a full turn of the moon, so short a time, and yet to one, an eternity. This is no melodramatic posturing, but a struggle between instinct and belief for a being to whom time is measured by the day, the moon and by season. To a being born to two legs or spawed in the heavens, the below or the beyond, this might seem trite, primitive or pitiful, but to one born and bred of four-legs, belonging to family can be a driving need.
Even amongst his own kind, the Lycans of Toxian City, GrrBrool felt the need to remind his cousins in The Pack that they had a sacred bond to each other and all their Kin. Love them or hate them, they were Kin, all the Furred Peoples. He knew it was natural for fighting to occur, it kept the Order of the Pack, those of high station were to be followed or overthrown. He knew that outsiders were to be challenged and driven off. He knew of the Hunt, and the need and rightness of it. To one born to four-legs this was natural and instinctive. Moreover he took the Role of Leader, when it was offered him very seriously, and used it to instruct and guide those under him. Acting as teacher, healer, councilor and guard to those beneath him, and adviser when needed to those above him.
The life and training that governed his past from the time he underwent his First Change influenced his perceptions of all that went on in Toxian City since his arrival so long ago now to him: days, moons, seasons ago. The Pack had been strong, but the House Of Shadows, for as long as he had known was stronger and always at the throats of The Pack. His Family, as they became almost as soon as he arrived, needed marshaling, and due in no small part to their very nature, his cousins and Kin were all too easy to goad into bloody and brutal combat which more often than not left The Pack's position weaker than when it started. Two bloodbaths at The Pit brought back horrific memories to GrrBrool of his years of service in the 7RAR-L and he knew he needed to safeguard his Kin from annihilation.
He had always been an infiltrator and mediator, and put his Scout Leadership to good use in this, forming good relations with the other Factions, the watchers and the leaders. He kept watch in the dark, the very Hours of the Wolf, looked in the hidden places and started loitering in Haven, listening, learning and befriending the Others. Always however, the wellbeing of his Kin and The Pack was foremost in his mind. His credo, from his Army years "Kin, Pack, Blood" was as true in Tox as in the jungles of Timor as in the mountains of Tarjikistan.
Always Family was on his mind and in his heart, from the time he was born in the Zoo, where all he knew was his Dam, his litter mates, the keepers and the public, to the years in the 7RAR-L where it meant the difference between life and death under a hail of artillery shells and opposing claws, to the many moons in the Pack where his Kin were often feral and directionless, Alphaship changing with the phase of the moon at times, GrrBrool always strove to better The Pack, to keep it safe and strong, but above all, true. True to the Wild, true to essence of Natures cycles and true to their beings as creatures blessed as Skin Changers.
He weathered the fighting, from rival Factions, marauding monsters, from within as his Kin succomed to their baser, brutal sides driven by lusts for pain and suffering, and from the scorn of the general populous for his Race as a whole. "Animal", "beast", "mutt", "dog", "wolf", "Lycan", words all, some true and proud, regardless how they were offered, but all hurtful to a thinking being who knows the short distance from word to blood. He defended his Kin, his Pack from these thoughts, setting himself as the example, noble predator, spiritual and thinking, (though few might call him wise) at one and at peace. For a while, it was true. Then one New Moon came, bringing with it the winds of Spring, and change, and all that came crashing down.
His particular Lunar cycle brings with it not the forced change into his between-form, the one he wears almost always in Toxian City, but his Fleshy body. The change is never a comfortable one, shrapnel lodged in his body from the life changing assault he was nearly killed in, in-operable and resistant to his regeneration, and each change rolls muscles over the pieces, and bones shift and flex against them. Each change brings pain, so he never looks forwards to the New Moon, even though it makes for easier travel through regular human society, for the few times he ever needs to, without fear of an accidental change. It is a harsh measure of time, but life can be harsh, and never asks either way.
Yet with this change brought the winds of Spring, and to GrrBrool, a very real sense of need. Dulled somewhat in his Fleshy form, he still felt its pull, but was unsure at first what it was. Until all the couples started appearing, first one or two, the usual in Toxian City, any given night there might be a canoodling couple, that was nothing new, but again and again, beings around him started Coupling. Words and deeds were exchanged before his eyes, over and over the same story presented itself to him. The pain of his return Change hammered it home, it was Spring, and he was un-Mated. He had felt the touches of this twice before, two denizens he had grown fonder and fonder of, and who then vanished before he could make his feelings properly known. All he had was The Pack, and the friends he had made. He needed, longed for, Family, belonging, and he began to realize, a Mate.
Then The Pack turned. More than just a change of leadership, a new agenda by a new warlord calling themselves "Alpha", as Wulf and others had done, but a turning, from what GrrBrool thought of as a natural and right family of his Kin, into the darker side of that. Not content to exist in relative harmony with their neighbors, but to expand aggressively, to hunt beyond need, to Hunt the weak and the solitary for the thrill of the kill and all the other, darker aspects of their natures, seemingly for the sake of it. This was everything that had driven GrrBrool to the lengths he had to escape the 7RAR-L and come to Toxian City in the first place and it horrified him, that seemingly as a whole, his Family, his Pack, would take such a Path.
He knew what he had to do. Without hesitation, GrrBrool found a quiet spot, the Library, of all places, and wrote, he wrote a letter, painfully, with a clumsy hand and a broken heart, but he wrote, and posted his resignation from The Pack. This was the third time he had lost his Family, once from the Zoo, second escaping the 7RAR-L and now this. Topping his longing for a mate, he was now adrift, in exile, but his own choosing perhaps, but again, instinct took over, he treated The Pack with the fear and hesitation any wild outcast would have, fearing his former family's reprisal on an outsider. He avoided the Den, and any Pack member he came across. He took to wandering the streets, not patrolling, as he once did, but aimlessly, out of habit, stopping to soak up the company of any friendly group he came upon.
The Ryders and Omega Institute offered him the most comfort, after his companions at the Haven bar, where the remainder of his time was spent, drowning his sorrows in service to others, even as bartender. Still he was driven to find a Mate, but this seemed even more hopeless now that his ties to The Pack were cut. The majority of his kind in Toxian City were now potential enemies, and he was in his minds eye, a pariah, deserter and outcast.
He watched and listened as the other goings on of the City washed over his life, new conflicts between The Pack and seemingly everyone filled him with hurt, knowing that once he had had a voice that occasionally soothed over the conflicts between his hot-headed Kin and the rest of the city. He stood back whilst beings came to him demanding answers, the only response he could give was that that was the way they were, what they were, and that he was not part of it or them, for that reason.
Long dark times they have been for GrrBrool, a flash in the pan for some, but a day, a moon, a season, time is flexible to a being like him. In that time his eyes were opened to the natures of some of the other inhabitants of the City, and many a fire-side discussion was had in the Library, or over a damp cloth at the Haven bar. Knowledge can also destroy, not all wisdom brings joy. On more than one instance, he was sent running, for fear of his fur, but always he crept back, needing that feel of Family, unable to abandon all those he called friend, willing to bear harsh words and scorn for that sense of belonging.
Two things happened suddenly, that brought new insights to GrrBrool. A Plague was visited upon the Vampire population, supernatural in nature and cunning. GrrBrool feared it would cross species and be visited upon his own Kin, for a time it seemed to be contained, but soon, news came to his ears, and eyes, that something was also afflicting the Furred Peoples of Toxian City too. At times in this period GrrBrool would have welcomed a visit from Death, had it been offered, but the nature of the disease that was now hitting the Furred Peoples was no simple creeping death, but was driving its victims to slathering rages, blinding them with ravenous hungers and crushing their minds. It was the worst possible contagion he could have been presented with. Yet he could again, not abandon his Kin, and donned his MOPS gear, the anti Nuclear, Biological and Chemical suit issued by the 7RAR-L to protect its troopers from just this very kind of weapon, and several times, went out and about, searching for stricken Kin to tend, as best he could.
The second thing that happened, much to his surprise, was to find out that one of his friends from the bar, herself a loner, without Faction or Family, thought that she might feel more for GrrBrool than just as a friendly bartender. Even as he stripped off and got into his MOPS gear, swearing he hadn't thought he would be wearing camouflage again so soon after putting it all away, well before the current dark times, he was looking into her eyes, feeling perhaps for the first time, that this was not just a fun tumble in the making, but something that might run deeper. A feeling not unlike Family, like that which he was beginning to feel for those he shared the fireside with.
Two darknesses had risen, and also two points of light. GrrBrool is still on his walkabout, but now he feels something more than sorrow, loss and the abandonment of a pack-creature without a pack. He feels he has someone at least, to come back for. Its been almost a full turn of the moon, GrrBrool has something to live for. Its been almost a full turn of the moon, who knows what it will bring.
Musings of the life of Grr.
===================================================
Its been almost a full turn of the moon since The Pack changed its colours. Almost a full turn of the moon since a devoted member laid down his markings and broke ranks. Its been almost a full turn of the moon, so short a time, and yet to one, an eternity. This is no melodramatic posturing, but a struggle between instinct and belief for a being to whom time is measured by the day, the moon and by season. To a being born to two legs or spawed in the heavens, the below or the beyond, this might seem trite, primitive or pitiful, but to one born and bred of four-legs, belonging to family can be a driving need.
Even amongst his own kind, the Lycans of Toxian City, GrrBrool felt the need to remind his cousins in The Pack that they had a sacred bond to each other and all their Kin. Love them or hate them, they were Kin, all the Furred Peoples. He knew it was natural for fighting to occur, it kept the Order of the Pack, those of high station were to be followed or overthrown. He knew that outsiders were to be challenged and driven off. He knew of the Hunt, and the need and rightness of it. To one born to four-legs this was natural and instinctive. Moreover he took the Role of Leader, when it was offered him very seriously, and used it to instruct and guide those under him. Acting as teacher, healer, councilor and guard to those beneath him, and adviser when needed to those above him.
The life and training that governed his past from the time he underwent his First Change influenced his perceptions of all that went on in Toxian City since his arrival so long ago now to him: days, moons, seasons ago. The Pack had been strong, but the House Of Shadows, for as long as he had known was stronger and always at the throats of The Pack. His Family, as they became almost as soon as he arrived, needed marshaling, and due in no small part to their very nature, his cousins and Kin were all too easy to goad into bloody and brutal combat which more often than not left The Pack's position weaker than when it started. Two bloodbaths at The Pit brought back horrific memories to GrrBrool of his years of service in the 7RAR-L and he knew he needed to safeguard his Kin from annihilation.
He had always been an infiltrator and mediator, and put his Scout Leadership to good use in this, forming good relations with the other Factions, the watchers and the leaders. He kept watch in the dark, the very Hours of the Wolf, looked in the hidden places and started loitering in Haven, listening, learning and befriending the Others. Always however, the wellbeing of his Kin and The Pack was foremost in his mind. His credo, from his Army years "Kin, Pack, Blood" was as true in Tox as in the jungles of Timor as in the mountains of Tarjikistan.
Always Family was on his mind and in his heart, from the time he was born in the Zoo, where all he knew was his Dam, his litter mates, the keepers and the public, to the years in the 7RAR-L where it meant the difference between life and death under a hail of artillery shells and opposing claws, to the many moons in the Pack where his Kin were often feral and directionless, Alphaship changing with the phase of the moon at times, GrrBrool always strove to better The Pack, to keep it safe and strong, but above all, true. True to the Wild, true to essence of Natures cycles and true to their beings as creatures blessed as Skin Changers.
He weathered the fighting, from rival Factions, marauding monsters, from within as his Kin succomed to their baser, brutal sides driven by lusts for pain and suffering, and from the scorn of the general populous for his Race as a whole. "Animal", "beast", "mutt", "dog", "wolf", "Lycan", words all, some true and proud, regardless how they were offered, but all hurtful to a thinking being who knows the short distance from word to blood. He defended his Kin, his Pack from these thoughts, setting himself as the example, noble predator, spiritual and thinking, (though few might call him wise) at one and at peace. For a while, it was true. Then one New Moon came, bringing with it the winds of Spring, and change, and all that came crashing down.
His particular Lunar cycle brings with it not the forced change into his between-form, the one he wears almost always in Toxian City, but his Fleshy body. The change is never a comfortable one, shrapnel lodged in his body from the life changing assault he was nearly killed in, in-operable and resistant to his regeneration, and each change rolls muscles over the pieces, and bones shift and flex against them. Each change brings pain, so he never looks forwards to the New Moon, even though it makes for easier travel through regular human society, for the few times he ever needs to, without fear of an accidental change. It is a harsh measure of time, but life can be harsh, and never asks either way.
Yet with this change brought the winds of Spring, and to GrrBrool, a very real sense of need. Dulled somewhat in his Fleshy form, he still felt its pull, but was unsure at first what it was. Until all the couples started appearing, first one or two, the usual in Toxian City, any given night there might be a canoodling couple, that was nothing new, but again and again, beings around him started Coupling. Words and deeds were exchanged before his eyes, over and over the same story presented itself to him. The pain of his return Change hammered it home, it was Spring, and he was un-Mated. He had felt the touches of this twice before, two denizens he had grown fonder and fonder of, and who then vanished before he could make his feelings properly known. All he had was The Pack, and the friends he had made. He needed, longed for, Family, belonging, and he began to realize, a Mate.
Then The Pack turned. More than just a change of leadership, a new agenda by a new warlord calling themselves "Alpha", as Wulf and others had done, but a turning, from what GrrBrool thought of as a natural and right family of his Kin, into the darker side of that. Not content to exist in relative harmony with their neighbors, but to expand aggressively, to hunt beyond need, to Hunt the weak and the solitary for the thrill of the kill and all the other, darker aspects of their natures, seemingly for the sake of it. This was everything that had driven GrrBrool to the lengths he had to escape the 7RAR-L and come to Toxian City in the first place and it horrified him, that seemingly as a whole, his Family, his Pack, would take such a Path.
He knew what he had to do. Without hesitation, GrrBrool found a quiet spot, the Library, of all places, and wrote, he wrote a letter, painfully, with a clumsy hand and a broken heart, but he wrote, and posted his resignation from The Pack. This was the third time he had lost his Family, once from the Zoo, second escaping the 7RAR-L and now this. Topping his longing for a mate, he was now adrift, in exile, but his own choosing perhaps, but again, instinct took over, he treated The Pack with the fear and hesitation any wild outcast would have, fearing his former family's reprisal on an outsider. He avoided the Den, and any Pack member he came across. He took to wandering the streets, not patrolling, as he once did, but aimlessly, out of habit, stopping to soak up the company of any friendly group he came upon.
The Ryders and Omega Institute offered him the most comfort, after his companions at the Haven bar, where the remainder of his time was spent, drowning his sorrows in service to others, even as bartender. Still he was driven to find a Mate, but this seemed even more hopeless now that his ties to The Pack were cut. The majority of his kind in Toxian City were now potential enemies, and he was in his minds eye, a pariah, deserter and outcast.
He watched and listened as the other goings on of the City washed over his life, new conflicts between The Pack and seemingly everyone filled him with hurt, knowing that once he had had a voice that occasionally soothed over the conflicts between his hot-headed Kin and the rest of the city. He stood back whilst beings came to him demanding answers, the only response he could give was that that was the way they were, what they were, and that he was not part of it or them, for that reason.
Long dark times they have been for GrrBrool, a flash in the pan for some, but a day, a moon, a season, time is flexible to a being like him. In that time his eyes were opened to the natures of some of the other inhabitants of the City, and many a fire-side discussion was had in the Library, or over a damp cloth at the Haven bar. Knowledge can also destroy, not all wisdom brings joy. On more than one instance, he was sent running, for fear of his fur, but always he crept back, needing that feel of Family, unable to abandon all those he called friend, willing to bear harsh words and scorn for that sense of belonging.
Two things happened suddenly, that brought new insights to GrrBrool. A Plague was visited upon the Vampire population, supernatural in nature and cunning. GrrBrool feared it would cross species and be visited upon his own Kin, for a time it seemed to be contained, but soon, news came to his ears, and eyes, that something was also afflicting the Furred Peoples of Toxian City too. At times in this period GrrBrool would have welcomed a visit from Death, had it been offered, but the nature of the disease that was now hitting the Furred Peoples was no simple creeping death, but was driving its victims to slathering rages, blinding them with ravenous hungers and crushing their minds. It was the worst possible contagion he could have been presented with. Yet he could again, not abandon his Kin, and donned his MOPS gear, the anti Nuclear, Biological and Chemical suit issued by the 7RAR-L to protect its troopers from just this very kind of weapon, and several times, went out and about, searching for stricken Kin to tend, as best he could.
The second thing that happened, much to his surprise, was to find out that one of his friends from the bar, herself a loner, without Faction or Family, thought that she might feel more for GrrBrool than just as a friendly bartender. Even as he stripped off and got into his MOPS gear, swearing he hadn't thought he would be wearing camouflage again so soon after putting it all away, well before the current dark times, he was looking into her eyes, feeling perhaps for the first time, that this was not just a fun tumble in the making, but something that might run deeper. A feeling not unlike Family, like that which he was beginning to feel for those he shared the fireside with.
Two darknesses had risen, and also two points of light. GrrBrool is still on his walkabout, but now he feels something more than sorrow, loss and the abandonment of a pack-creature without a pack. He feels he has someone at least, to come back for. Its been almost a full turn of the moon, GrrBrool has something to live for. Its been almost a full turn of the moon, who knows what it will bring.
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