As Luna hangs in the black sky, a slim curved sword against black velvet, Moon 
  Otter and Winter Rain patrol along the easternmost outskirts of the bawn.
Moon Otter is somewhat irritable tonight despite the slenderness of the moon. 
  Still, there's a certain sense of comfort to be found in routine, and 
  trekking through the woods seems to be sufficient this evening.
Winter Rain lags behind the other wolf, padding off to one side. She stops 
  suddenly and chuffs to catch the Lord's attention. New track, alpha. She 
  does not recognize these wolf scents.
Moon Otter doubles back to examine the tracks. Perhaps they are Stonejaws? No. 
  It is not the same scent.
Winter Rain rumbles, vaguely disturbed; a jester might make a joke about 
  feminine intuition, but it's clear she dos not like these scents. She 
  directs an inquiry to the Lord, investigate?
Moon Otter flicks an ear in agreement. He starts up an outwardly spiraling 
  dance from the scent in an attempt to pick up the trail.
The trail is obvious... perhaps unnaturally so. These wolves are not careful, 
  and their scent reeks of musk. Behind Otter, Rain's sharp bark gives sudden 
  warning, right before a large wolf steps part-way from the shadows. He is 
  male, with fur blacker than even Otter's and faintly shiney in the dim 
  moonlight. Greasy. Rain's hackles rise as the shadows move and it becomes 
  apparent that the Greasy-Fur has at least three comrades who do not emerge 
  from the darkness.
Moon Otter is busily concentrating on the odd scent of the trail, not noticing 
  the incoming quartet until Winter Rain's warning bark. He turns quickly, to 
  see what's alarmed his packmate.
Greasy-Fur steps toward the obvious alpha of the pair, Otter, and bares rows 
  of needle-sharp, dripping teeth. Food, he growls happily, and his three 
  packmates emerge from the shadows, tails wagging in expectation of killing 
  prey. Killing Garou prey. Even without the gift to sense Wyrm, their 
  corruption is clear. One is hairless, with grasping, waving tendrils around 
  its crablike mouth. Another, a female, bears sbakelike scales and a 
  scorpian-like tail. The third and final fomor is the size of a Hispo and 
  appears to have a bad case of mange.
Moon Otter, initially weighing ideas of a nasty metis visiting pack, quickly 
  discards the idea as they close in with malicious intention. He belts out a 
  loud howl, mauling the lupine nature of the call for aid as his form blurs 
  into the more massive Hispo and he circles Greasy-Fur, sizing up the 
  opponent while keeping tabs on the others.

You paged Kichkinet, Midnight, and Spirit-of-Words with 'Otter's Howl for help 
  goes out. I'll give you guys a heads up to @tel in after another "turn" or 
  so, okay?'.

Winter Rain speeds upwards into the warform as Scorpion-Tail and Crab-Mouth 
  close in on her. Greasy-Fur wastes no time in lunging at the Hispo'ed Lord, 
  his needled teeth snapping at Otter's throat. Giant, on the other hand, 
  blinks his eyes a little stupidly and seems uncertain what to do exactly.
Winter Rain contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
You shift into Crinos form.
Moon Otter contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Moon Otter shifts into Hispo form.
Moon Otter tuckes his head down and tries a feint/charge in hopes of having 
  Greasy-Fur overshoot his mark and put the Lord into a better position to 
  attack the wolf's left hind leg with the powerful jaws of the Hispo.

You paged Kichkinet, Midnight, Spirit-of-Words, Barks, Steps-on-Cracks, and 
  Vincent with 'The guardians all have Speed of Thought, so they'll get here 
  way before the three non-guardians. FYI. :)'.

Greasy-Fur, in his drooling hunger and eagerness, overshoots his mark and 
  screams as the Lord closes his jaws over his weak leg. The noise rouses his 
  brother, Giant, who barrels toward the Lord, matching mass for mass. Rain, 
  meanwhile, fights bravely against two at once, her white fur soon streaked 
  with blood and ichor. The scorpian barb catches her across the face, 
  provoking a yelp from the Talon.
Moon Otter kicks in the speed as Giant's brain finally slips into gear. It's a 
  move seen often enough among playing pups. A rapid, high speed turn around 
  the slower one, claws churning up the ground for traction, body leaning into 
  the curve in an attempt to circle the larger fomori and wind up charging 
  right back at Greasy-Fur's already wounded flank.
The three guardians -- Midnight, Soren, and Scott -- arrive swiftly upon the 
  scent with the aid of their totem's gifts. The musky reek of stranger wolves 
  is heavy in the air even before they arrive, the sounds of a fight strong in 
  their ears. They arrive to find Rain and Otter fighting bravely against four 
  obviously deformed wolves who stink of Wyrm, insanity, and hunger. There are 
  four fomori. Greasy-Fur, the alpha with rows of needle-teeth and oily black 
  fur. Giant, the size of a Hispo at least. Crab-mouth, a hairless, ugly wolf 
  with waving prehensile tendrils around a crablike mouth, and Scorpion-Tail, 
  who, as its name impiles, has a scorpion-like tail, complete with barb.
Giant turns slowly, snapping at the irritating little Lord who injured his 
  alpha, and Greasy-Fur recovers with startling speed, screaming through his 
  obvious pain to meet Otter's attack. Rain, fighting the other two, is 
  covered in blood, not all her own, but her movements seem to be slowing. She 
  sinks her teeth into Crab's shoulder.
Kichkinet contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Kichkinet shifts into Crinos form.
Kichkinet shifts into his birth-form and leaps airborne, attempting, 
  apparently, to leap over his septmates and into the midst of the enemy.
Vincent asks Steps-On-Cracks as the pair run, ~You bring a gun?~
Steps-on-Cracks concentrates on the ground, and not tripping over anything as 
  she runs. ~Yeah, I have a gun.~
Midnight contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Midnight shifts into Hispo form.
Barks stays near the starnge Garou who speak of guns, since she can't even see 
  the speedy Gaurdains anymore, and these woods are strange.
Moon Otter keeps his momentum going as he lunges at Greasy-Fur head on, just 
  like before, as if to strike once again at the already wounded side. At the 
  last second, he breaks to the other side, slashing at the hindquarters again 
  and putting the fomori alpha's body between him and Giant.
Midnight's gifted speed carries him forward in tandem with the leaping 
  Kichkinet. The Get's powerful form, writ large in the dire wolf form, 
  prepares to strike in unison with his packmates on a singled-out 
  target--Giant.
Spirit-of-Words doesn't slow down, moving to circle around and hit the flank 
  of Giant, hoping to hamstring him, timing the attack to land at the same 
  moment his two pack-mates attacks do. At the very last second he uses luna's 
  gift to slip up into the hispo form.
Vincent says, ~Good,~ in reply to the Bone Gnawer. ~One smart Bone Gnawer is 
  worth any two big Get in a fight.~
Barks decides she shouldn't listen to the Urrah anymore, and starts howling 
  really loud, a quavering, martial ululation from the ancient tradition of 
  freak-the-prey.
Kichkinet lets out a yowling cry in some language, garbled by his Crinos form 
  as he descends from the air toward Giant, aiming toward his back like an 
  airborne cowboy.
Greasy-Fur twists as Otter attacks him again, jaws closing around the base of 
  the Lord's tail and holding tight. Giant utters a bonehead-stupid-startled 
  'urf' of surprise as the pale Wendigo lands on top of him. He's further 
  surprised by lower attacks from Get and Fang. Where did they come from! No 
  fair! The bigger they are, the harder they fall. Giant hits the earth with a 
  literaslly ground-shaking *thud* and rolls over in Midnight's direction.
Meanwhile, Winter Rain bears the smaller Crab-mouth to the ground, clawing out 
  the fomor's throat, but Scorpion-Tail lashes again, its barb catching her 
  across the back, opening her up nearly to the bone. Howling in Rage, the 
  Talon turns to meet her other opponent, leaving the dead Crab-mouth.
After darting in his initial attack on Giant, Midnight releases a rumbling low 
  growl of combat and challenge.
Kichkinet's ululating cry continues as he springs free of Giant, leaving his 
  packmates to finish the monster. He turns toward the embattled Winter Rain, 
  grabbing for Scorpion's tail.
Midnight pounces back in on Giant in a swift, hispo-powerful attempt at a 
  quick-throating of the fomor wolf.
Spirit-of-Words does give the fomori a moments respite, and tries to teach it 
  the foolishness of turning it's back to the Fang. He moves again with 
  luna-born speed, ripping into the back of the creature with tooth and claw 
  as it rolls away from him and and leaves itself exposed.
Spirit-of-Words contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Spirit-of-Words blurs and shifts into Hispo form.
Moon Otter doesn't hesitate a second. With Greasy-Fur's hindquarters 
  malfunctioning, he begins a shift to crinos, positioning himself for a 
  killing blow to the alpha fomori's throat from behind. Reason seems to 
  become lost as primal instincts kick in and guide claws towards vital areas.
Spirit-of-Words pages: I spend a rage last round, I'll spend another this 
  round. The pose is fairly self-explanatory of what I'm doing. If it starts 
  to turn towards me, I'll wait until it is more or less facing me, and kick 
  on lambent to try and blind and confuse it.;)
Vincent begins the low-throated howl of a pariah dog. All the power of his 
  dark dealings with Weaver spirits shows itself in his Hispo voice. Chilling 
  regularity and forcefulness are harnessed to let the Gaian warriors know 
  that help is on the way.
Giant goes down swiftly, his size and strength no match for two Rage-fueled 
  warriors of Gaia. He continues to struggle and try to fight even as his pelt 
  is flayed open and his innards spilled, to fight even as his eyes glaze 
  over. His attacks are not entirely useless; a huge paw breaks a few of 
  Midnight's ribs, and Spirit gets a claw-slash that comes within an inch of 
  missing his eye. If Giant were of the Mother, one might admire his tenacity, 
  even in the face of death. Greasy-Fur, fighting Otter, seems to feel the 
  moment when Giant finally dies, and the death gives him grief-fueld rage and 
  speed, his needle-teeth opening up the Shadow Lord's flank and side, just 
  before Otter's jaws close around his throat. Between Kich and Rain, 
  Scorpion-Tail stands no chance and is quickly torn apart.
As the Gnawer, the Walker, and Barks finally arrive, the fomori are dead and 
  dying, and the Garou covered with blood and righteously-earned wounds.
Barks trots around in a circle, disappointed to have missed the fight, but 
  excited by the blood-stench in the air. Good Guardians, very good, very 
  strong and brave and fierce.
Kichkinet holds up the tail of the scorpion-fomor in one hand and holds it 
  high, howling victory. His snow-white fur is spattered with scarlet, though 
  little of it except for a long cut on one arm appears to be his.
Vincent takes a moment to survey the scene, circling around for a bit. He 
  makes himself sure there are no hidden watchers or lag-behinds, checking 
  with his Gift of Sense Wyrm around the perimeter.

Winter Rain pages all: Rain killed Crab. Otter killed Greasy-Fur. Midnight and 
  Spirit fiished off Giant and Rain and Kich finished off and killed Scorpion. 
  Kich also helped kill Giant.

Winter Rain's howl of victory is broken off suddenly. Coughing, the Talon 
  sinks to the ground, dwindling back into her breed form.
Winter Rain contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
You shift into Lupus form.
Kichkinet flips the amputated tail over his shoulder into the trees, looking 
  down at Winter Rain as though to assess her wounds.
Steps-on-Cracks arrives on the tail end of combat, not quite in time to see 
  the final fomori go down. While the others move about she stands still, 
  watching, a careful distance between herself and the bodies. It doesn't 
  appear that the Gnawer is too much upset by missing out on the excitement of 
  the fight, in contrast to Barks.
Moon Otter manages to wrench out Greasy-Fur's trachea with a sickening sound. 
  The mangled meat drops from his maw and the jaws lash out once again for the 
  creature's throat with the sounds of crunching bone. Otter looks up from the 
  near-decapitated corpse, meat dropping from his jaws as he looks for the 
  next thing to kill.
Midnight's breath comes with a slight catching wheeze. That one fought well, 
  he indicates as he motions with his muzzle toward Giant. He turns quickly 
  though at Winter Rain's suddenly broken off howl. He pads forward, the 
  blooded fur along his massive torso darkening slightly. Does she need the 
  Touch?
Spirit-of-Words pulls back from the fomor, shaking the bits of gore and blood 
  away from him and surveys the scene. With a firm nod of satisfaction he goes 
  over to join his other pack-mates.
Winter Rain doesn't appear to be hurt too badly, apart from the gash along her 
  back, until one notices the yellowish look to the edges of the 
  barb-inflicted wound. It's worse around the little barb-wound on her muzzle. 
  The Talon snarls weakly and tries to get to her feet, fighting the poison.
Kichkinet whuffs. ~A healer. Anyone? Can you deal with the poison, Midnight?~
Barks trots over to Winter Rain, and negins to change...
Barks contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
Barks shifts into Homid form.
Midnight shifts upward into glabro, ~I know the Touch of healing, yes. But 
  admit that it is a gift new to my and.~
Midnight contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Barks has a hot look in her eye as she unlimbers a scalpel. "Time to cut?"
Midnight shifts into Glabro form.
Kichkinet sees that others with better qualifications are approaching Winter 
  Rain, and steps out of the way. He begins to explore a bit further out into 
  the nearby woods, looking for other fomori or signs of where they came from.
Vincent pads forward. I am also learning this Gift, and will assist, if I may.
Vincent contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Vincent shifts into Glabro form.
Steps-on-Cracks's eyes take in the scene warily, from a distance. Most of her 
  attention is focused on either Moon Otter or Barks.
Winter Rain snarls again as the human-form approaches her with a human tool. 
  Eyes glazed over, she bares her teeth in threat and falls over onto her 
  side, legs spasming.
Moon Otter looks rapidly over those who came to the scene, assessing whether 
  they are threats or not as sinew and gore dangle from between fangs. Then he 
  spies Winter Rain's condition and limps over to her side.
Spirit-of-Words watches quietly, obviously unable to do anything to help.
Vincent says, ~Calmly, warrior. Calmly. Seers come to heal.~ He approaches 
  with soothing words, as if ready to lose an arm if the wounded Talon reacts 
  badly to this approach. ~Allow the Mother's Touch. Be calm.~
Winter Rain spasms again, hacking up bile, a milky film forming over her amber 
  eyes. Her back arches in a way no wolf's should and she howls once more, her 
  name-howl laced with pain and rage, and then collapses back, motionless.
Soren glances over at the Glass Walker and almost rolls his eyes as he stands 
  at Barks side. ~Holder her down so that Barks may cut. I will give the Touch 
  as best I can when this is done. Winter Rain has fought with honor.~ 
  Considerations of comfort or calmness don't seem important to him, 
  apparently.
Kichkinet, out scouting around in the woods, misses all of this.
Vincent says, ~Quickly, Guardian. This is not normal poison.~ He holds down 
  the wounded lupine with steady hands. ~No hesitation.~
Winter Rain lies utterly still, not resisting, milked-over eyes staring at 
  nothing, tongue slack from her foam-streaked, blood-soaked muzzle.
~Cut her, Barks,~ says Soren in agreement with Vincent.
Barks digs in with a will, slicing away the poisoned flesh. She works with 
  surprising skill for a feral, though her deformed hands make it hard to 
  weild the knife well. Gobs of flesh begin peppering the ground as the Uktena 
  flings them aside.
Winter Rain shows no reaction to the field surgery. She doesn't move, doesn't 
  twitch. After a moment, one might realize that she isn't breathing, either.
Kichkinet comes back out of the woods. ~Looks all clear... hey, fillet of 
  Talon.~
Vincent says, ~Who knows of herbs? Something to draw out bad blood? Willow 
  bark. Moss. Quickly.~ He begins to squeeze the wolf's sides, apparently the 
  first steps in CPR. ~Quickly.~
Kichkinet nods. ~Got it.~ HE bolts back into the woods.
Moon Otter crouches and noses his packmate's side once, twice. Resigned to 
  Gaia's will, he takes a step back from the Red Talon. The Shadow Lord tips 
  his head back in a loud, snarling howl, calling upon Griffin's favor for one 
  of his fallen. The howl dies off, and Otter swings his head over to regard 
  Kichkinet with a less-than-pleased look.
Steps-on-Cracks moves now, though only to take two steps closer and into 
  better view of the unfolding drama.
Kichkinet can be heard making noise out in the woods nearby, apparently 
  debarking a tree.
The Red Talon remains lifeless despite the Walker's efforts.
Vincent covers the Talon's muzzle with both hands, at first refusing to give 
  up, blowing his own air into her lungs. He works methodically, rapidly, and, 
  it is increasingly apparent, to no avail, it seems.
Kichkinet trots back out of the woods, a small bit of moss in one crinos paw, 
  a large handful of bark in the other. He presents them to the Walker.
Soren watches the cutting and the speaking, his jaw clenching and working. 
  ~Move aside.~ The one-eyed Get moves forward and squats at the kneels at the 
  side of the Red Talon, his eye(s) shutting and his breathing easing into a 
  pattern. ~Helbredende kraft fra Henne some er Verden's Moder skjenke ditt 
  lys paa meg.~
Barks examines her butchery. "Poison deep. No more cut. No flesh left." She 
  watches Vincent push on the wolf's side, blow in her muzzle. "What you do?"
Barks gets out of the Get's way, much more comfortable with chanting than with 
  squeezing and puffing.
Moon Otter apparently has put up with the mutilation of Winter Rain long 
  enough. He roughly swats Vincent, not enough to do any damage though. Leave 
  her alone.
Barks scuttles back and away from the angry Lord. quite happy to let the Urrah 
  get the abuse. She shifts back to wolf, her bloody scalpel blurring into her 
  fur to form a silvery patch at her neck.
Kichkinet kneels beside the Talon's head, bark and moss still extended toward 
  Vincent.
Barks contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
Barks shifts into Lupus form.
From his satchel, Soren pulls a small leather bundle and swiftly draws out a 
  smooth, small blade. ~Helbredende blod renser helvetes morke...~ Despite the 
  foreignness of the demi-garou words, a strength seems to rise in the 
  crescents voice and his hands glow dimly in the night's darkness. With nary 
  a wince or cringe, he slices into each palm, deep enough for blood to well 
  up easily, the knife darkening as he switches it from one hand to the other.
Vincent eventually gives in to the obvious, and backs away, shaking his head 
  at Kichkinet. ~Too late. From the moment she was stung, too late.~ He 
  watches Soren work. ~Only one hope, now.

Soren pages to Kichkinet, Moon Otter, Dead Rain, Spirit-of-Words, Barks, 
  Steps-on-Cracks, and Vincent: For your edification, the language is 
  Norwegian (Soren's nationality and heritage). The first is translated, 
  roughly, as "Healing power from Her is the World's Mother pour your light on 
  me." The second: "Healing blood purify the darkness of hell."

Kichkinet grunts, drops the plant matter on the ground, and looks last to 
  Soren.
Winter Rain remains dead.
Soren extends his hands over the gaping, cut wounds, his own blood richly, 
  almost otherworldly red as it runs down on the dead wolf... Ineffective.
Kichkinet sighs, bows his head and lays one hand on the dead wolf's forehead. 
  ~Griffin guide you and Raven watch you, warrior.~
Soren's wounds, cut with knife of steel, heal quickly as he withdraws them. He 
  growls a sigh and steps away, taking his satchel and the knife with him. 
  ~That one died with honor.~ He says nothing more as he takes himself apart 
  from the others.
Vincent says, ~Go swiftly to the lands of Good Hunting.~
Moon Otter slowly shifts to the war form and tenderly scoops the mauled body 
  into his arms. ~You tried,~ he growls to Soren and Kichkinet--the ones who'd 
  used traditional methods to attempt a cure. ~Thank you.~ He turns and makes 
  his way into the dense woods to the south.
Barks whimpers a bit, softly. She scrunches down into a hardly noticeable 
  bunch, with her muzzle between her forepaws and surreptitiously gnaws at one 
  of her claws.