[The very first night after Hazmat returned from the North. Sept 1996]

The Sept Compound(#2075RAM)
This clearing has recently undergone a bit of construction, though it seems 
  that at least some attempt has been made to keep the new structures 
  harmonious with the landscape around them. The central area is dominated by 
  a cookfire; in the southwest corner a shelter has been dug into the earth 
  and covered, while to the northwest, an open-air cabin of sorts has been 
  built. Except for the area around the fire, it seems nature has been allowed 
  to take its course. 
A faint trail leads off to the east, and a bit north.
Contents:
Brittany
Peter Follen
Spirit-of-Words
Whitewings
Windchimes
Current Compound Residents
Obvious exits:
Ash Grove  Groundskeeper's Shelter  Faint Trail  

Hazmat pads in, all boldness, nose snuffling at the ground as she follows the 
  faint trail into the compound.
Peter Follen clears his throat, still watching Brittany.
Brittany hmms, taking notice, finally, of Peter. "Yes?"
Peter Follen doesn't seem to have noticed Hamzat yet. ~I don't believe that we 
  have ever been introduced, although I remember seeing you at the Rite of 
  Keres last week. You are new here?~
Shadows enters the compound.
Shadows has arrived.
Hazmat sneezes, explosively, and lifts her head, broad ears cocked forward. 
  After a moment, she sits down and makes a half-amused growlfing noise. Leave 
  the area for a season, and all new people show up. Typical.
Brittany chuckles softly, and shakes her head. "I have been here for over a 
  year, actually, and am the former elder of the First Tribe. Other needs 
  require I spend much of my time away from the Caern, however."
Shadows slides into the Compound.
Peter Follen nods his head at the correction. ~I am called 
  Fallen-From-The-Sky, a half moon... recently joined the Children of Gaia.~
Hazmat rises again and pads aggressively toward Shadows, sniffing her.
Brittany repeats, "Brittany Jefferson, of the Virginia Jerrsons, firstborn of 
  the King, Halfmoon and one-time elder of the Silver Fangs. Forgive me for 
  not having made myself better known beforehand. After the battle with Those 
  Who Gnaw the Bones, I fear my mind has been spinning more than at rest."
Shadows lolls her tongue out at Hazmat, sniffing back. Hi. Her eyes go past 
  the new wolfdog to Brittany and her ears flop in friendly amusement.
Peter Follen smiles just a bit at the lengthy introduction. ~Not at all. Do 
  you have a Garou name by which you are known?~
Spirit-of-Words raises his head a bit from where he is resting to look over 
  the two new Garou. He tilts his head to one side, snifs at the air, and then 
  settles down.
Brittany, who thought she had made it far too short, is rewarded in her 
  estimation by the question. "I do, indeed. Sterling the Pure, as I was named 
  by mine own father."
Hazmat growlfs, only half-playfully, and shoulders Shadows roughly, tail 
  lifted, her manner dominant. Hey. You. I don't know your name. Who are you?
Peter Follen's smile falters a bit at that name. His only response, however, 
  is a very soft, ~Interesting.~
Shadows does not seem obviously submissive to Hazmat's dominance; but she is 
  friendly still, equal to equal as she introduces herself. Talks-to-Shadows, 
  I am. Seer of the Gnawers. Who're you?
Brittany says "If you have any advice on this situation, please, feel free to 
  set it forth? The more viewpoints, the more likely the answer sees the 
  light.""
Peter Follen pauses a moment, considering how his question will be received. 
  But he finally decides to go ahead and pose it; it won't be the first time 
  he's been hit by a Silver Fang. ~I wonder why you chose to keep a name with 
  such a negative image.~
Brittany blinks, then blinks again. "Not what I had in mind as supportive of 
  the overthrough of the next of Banes the revelers discovered, but at least 
  it is commentary. In what possible way could purity be seen as negative?"
Hazmat doesn't accept this 'equal to equal' thing, though, apparently, and 
  raises a forepaw, ears pushed forward, her stance all alpha. I'm called 
  Rabbit by wolves, or Watches-Pups. A Strider named me Tips-Cans, long ago. 
  I'm wolf born, Bone Gnawer, No-Moon. I was trained here at the Wheel and 
  Rited here with two of my tribemates. I assisted the Fianna in the Mirror 
  Realm, and I helped them bring fown Nightmare-ikthya. I went away, and now 
  I'm back.
Whitewings leaves, traveling down the path to the west.
Whitewings has left.
Peter Follen considers again how to phrase the question. ~Well, if I remember 
  correctly, 'sterling' --,~ here he shifts to English, as crude as it sounds 
  coming from a Glabro throat, to more easily discuss a scientific subject. He 
  clears his throat. "Sterling, as I recall, is an alloy of silver and lesser 
  metals, an alloy commonly used because it will not tarnish the way pure 
  silver will. One sacrifices the purity of silver to attain something that 
  looks more beautiful, but is in essenence less than, real silver." He stops 
  there, to see how his words will be taken.
Brittany smiles, then. "Rare to find a skilled metallurgist in a Caern so far 
  west, save the Forge. The simplest reason is that, quite simply, it is my 
  name. Brittany Sterling Jefferson. There is more to it than that, of course, 
  but somewhat embarassing. Suffice it to say that the name has more merit 
  than you might think, and I hold it as an honor."
Shadows is an alpha herself, and she's not so easily going to accept this 
  newcomer, so up close and personal already, as her superior. Raising her 
  ears, she says, Imust have arrived after you went away. I came from the Sept 
  of the Green after growing up there and spending seven years as a Cliath. 
  I've held a safe place in the city, I've formed a pack, I've made talens to 
  protect the Sept, and I'm here now.
Peter Follen dips his eyes at that. ~I meant no dishonor,~ he says, reverting 
  to his natural tongue. ~I was simply curious. My thanks for taking the time 
  to explain.~
Brittany shakes her hand, laying a hand on the Gaian's shoulder. "There is no 
  dishonor in ignorance, Peter, only in remaining so when the chance to learn 
  opens before you. There was no disrespect."
Hazmat bristles, grey eyes locking on Shadows'. I made a safe place in the 
  city, too. I followed Rat, and with my pack we went into a Realm and freed a 
  city-place for Rat and Cockroach to roam free. I rescued Hope-Star's brother 
  and then, when he showed his Wyrm-taint, I helped bring him down. I survived 
  an attack by Nightmare-ikthya, who tore my daughter from my womb. I taught 
  cubs and when almost *all* other Gnawers abandoned the Wheel, I was one of 
  those who remained loyal. These past two seasons, I have kept a young pair 
  of Talon kinfolk safe, so that their pups did not go hungry. I kept the 
  Umbra around their territory free form the Wyrm and Weaver. I am ~Hazmat.~
Peter Follen nods once. ~Well met, Sterling of the Silver Fangs.~
Brittany then asks, "What brings you to our Sept, Peter?"
Peter Follen says, ~I came here on the chance that I might be accepted. Rumors 
  about the Wheel Renewed have spread northward, and I hoped that I might find 
  my place here.~
Brittany says "I trust that you have found the WHeel quiet accomidating to 
  your needs, then?"
Touch Deer enters the compound.
Touch Deer has arrived.
Peter Follen says, ~Indeed. Last night, the Alpha accepted me as a full member 
  of the Sept.~
Kichkinet enters the compound.
Kichkinet has arrived.
Kichkinet blinks as he steps into the small clearing, surprised to see a crowd.
Brittany half-turns, to face both Scott and Peter, and asks, "Did you, 
  perhaps, have knowledge of these Banes that the Revellers encountered? 
  Tactical suggestions, or, I hope, Talen-making skills to offer forth?"
Peter Follen says, ~I know a little. Soulcatcher and Shows-The-Way have told 
  me something of the banes, but no more than Spirit-of-the-Words should know, 
  having attended the Revel himself. I did assist Soulcatcher in the creation 
  of the Bane Arrows which, reportedly, did quite well against the beasts.~
Touch Deer walks into the small clearing with an air of bitterness and 
  frustration about him; his mouth is set into a grim line, and he does not 
  smile as he spies friends such as Spirit-of-Words. He gazes around, as if 
  looking for someone.
Shadows's ears prick forward in interest. You spent all the time in the Umbra? 
  Teach me? Implicit in her asking is a submission to the ragabash's wisdom.
Brittany nods, slowly. "He mentioned them, but not, by name, the maker. I am 
  pleased to find one of our moon who found the spiritual balance to master 
  the craft, or, at the least, attempt such. If the endevour is not too great, 
  I feel more of the same would be a suitable task for you to embark upon, 
  should no other come first."
Touch Deer frowns as he doesn't seem to find the person he is looking for, and 
  he stalks off quietly back the way he came.
Hazmat's posture relaxes, ears splaying in sudden good humor. She walks her 
  haunches under her and sits down, huffing out a breath. Not *all* the time. 
  Not during the daytime, of course. But okay, I will.
Touch Deer leaves the compound.
Touch Deer has left.
Peter Follen says, ~I am afraid I can only assist; I was never taught the 
  actual Rite to bind the spirit to matter. However, should Shows-The-Way wish 
  it, and Soulcatcher be willing, I would be honored to assist in the creation 
  of more talens.~
Shadows rolls on her side playfully. Why have you come back? She tries to 
  think if there are Gnawers newer than herself that Hazmat might not know.
Kichkinet cocks an eyebrow, obviously out of the loop somewhat, but not 
  willing to ask questions that would be redundant at the moment. He sits a 
  short distance off, watching and listening.
"I believe it not only wished," The Fang Philo begins, as she glances to her 
  wounded Kinain, "But nigh requisite at this point. Additional hands only 
  convey so much work without a tool to lend, after all."
Hazmat starts scratching busily behind one ear. Because it was time for me to 
  come back, she answers Shadows.
Peter Follen dips his head. ~Of course, Sterling-rhya. But Shows-The-Way is 
  the leader of the fight against these banes.~ That seems, to him, to be all 
  that needs to be said.
Shadows wrinkles her nose at Hazmat's nonanswer. Most of the Gnawers still 
  avoid the Wheel.
Brittany hmmms, and nods. "The territory falls within his realm, then. If he 
  does not ask for such assistance, I have need of a similar, yet different 
  project. Should the request strangely not come, could you try to fufill my 
  need?"
Hazmat isn't, it appears, being evasive; that answer was an honest as she 
  could give it. She doesn't seem pleased at Shadows' news, though. Still? Why?
Shadows rolls to her feet again and scratches her cheek, asking a question in 
  return, Who was among the Gnawers when you were here?
Peter Follen nods. ~I would be honored to make the attempt, but bear in mind 
  that I do not know the necessary Rites myself. I can only assist. I am, 
  however, quite familiar with the Spirit.~
Tatiana comes out of the shelter, putting the finishing touches on her braid 
  as she walks.
Brittany colors softly. "Forgive me, then, Peter, for such a request. Could 
  you, perhaps, pass it along to the one who does know? The need, while not 
  dire, is somewhat pressing, and I fain would not wwait overly long. Present 
  needs certainly overwhelming mine own, of course."
Hazmat quirks one ear sideways, now watching the other Gnawer carefully. 
  Cub-Keeper. Dances in Pit. The twins. That girl who always caused trouble 
  and nothing else. Chugs by the Gallon. A few others who didn't do much of 
  anything. Why are the Gnawers still not a part of the Wheel Renewed?
Peter Follen says, ~I can do so as well. What, precisely, do you require?~
Kichkinet's eyes move across the group as a whole, but his ears are swiveled 
  toward Hazmat and Shadows.
Brittany says "Similar in style and shape, but only half as long. Quarrels, 
  for my hunting crossbow. I brought none with me, sadly, but I can have them 
  delivered as soon as they would be needed.""
Shadows doesn't recognize the name Cub-Keeper, but flicks an ear at most of 
  the others, chuffing in amusement at the description of who she assumes is 
  Becca. Mostly the same people. Why did they stop before? They were not 
  coming out here when I arrived. She adds proudly, My pack is different.
Hazmat scratches behind an ear again, growling irritably. It was partly Dances 
  in Pit's fault, and Chugs and that girl. But mostly, I blame Shadowspeaker, 
  the Ratkin Seer.
Peter Follen considers for a moment. ~The crossbow is a more complicated 
  machine than a bow. Convincing a Gaian spirit to enter such a thing will be 
  much more difficult than an arrow.~
Shadows flinches suddenly. What did he do?
Kichkinet's nose twitches slightly.
Brittany says "I would not know, for such matters I was never trained in. I 
  had thought the conveyence, not the delivery device, the more important, but 
  spirits are a notoriously capricous lot. Do whatever questioning you must, 
  and pass along to me the maker's decision, if you please?" Her hand strays 
  to the pocket watch she withdrawls, golden chain dancing in her hand. "I 
  fear it is time for Fredderick's lesson, and I must be off.""
Hazmat's growl deepens, and she switches to Garou to make her words more 
  vocal. ~He manipulated us, wore the guise of Mother Rat to get our 
  sympathies, and then used the rat spirits to provoke the Wheel. He caused 
  the rift between the city and the woods, and I guess he's happy because it 
  *still* isn't healed, is it? He's not like Biggs. Shadowspeaker hates Garou. 
  He hates *all* Garou.~
Peter Follen says, ~I will do so. Good evening.~
Brittany bows respectfully to the others, and makes her way from the compound.
Shadows tilts her head. I have not spoken with him much. I'm a little afraid 
  of him. There's a new Ratkin in the city, as well. He seems very different 
  from what you have described of Shadowspeaker
Brittany leaves the compound.
Brittany has left.
Hazmat calms slightly. Not all Ratkin are bad. But Shadowspeaker is dangerous. 
  Watch out for him.
Orion appears out of a patch of twilight shadow, looking about the clearing 
  slowly, warily.
Tatiana props her back pack up against a tree and sits down next to it.
Peter Follen waves to Orion from where he stands by the fire.
Shadows huffs out her breath. Will you be coming back to the city, too?
Hazmat pauses to bite at a flea and then gets up, shaking herself. Eventually. 
  But first I have to go see Swipes-at-Salmon, in the woods. I have news for 
  her.
Orion shuffles quickly to Peter's side, still glancing about at those already 
  here. "Good evening, Peter," he says, nodding.
Shadows lolls her tongue out in high amusement. I like her. I wasn't sure if I 
  would.
Kichkinet dips his head toward Orion in greeting
Peter Follen says, ~Good evening, Orion. How are you this night?~
Hazmat's tail waves slightly in agreement and then pads out of the compound, 
  weaving her way among the Garou already gathered there, pausing to sniff at 
  this or that person on her way to the park.