Contents:
Clever-for-Food
Obvious exits:
Stairs
Piddles trots on into the Rialto, sniffing for Clever.
Clever-for-Food, or at least her rear, can be seen by the closet. Growling playfully to herself, she has her visible paws planted and is tugging on something; her prey (never mind her front half) is hidden within the darkness of the closet.
Piddles pads up behind Clever and cold-noses her rear end.
Clever-for-Food lets go of whatever it is she was after and tries to spin around. She shoulders the doorjam and after a few more bumps, she's out. Hi! She leaps at the other loop. HiHiHiHi!
Piddles greets Clever as enthusiastically, if not as energetically. The big dog wags his whole back end with his tail. Hello! Hello! Hello!
Arlen has arrived.
Clever-for-Food continues her jumping at Pids, nipping a his ear, ruff, or anything else she can get her jaws on, wagging all the while.
Arlen heads downstairs, not particularly attempting quiet.
Elan comes in from the stairs.
Elan has arrived.
Piddles clacks his teeth at Clever's neck, cheek, and leg, randomly. The undulations of his body are starting to get erratic, since his tail is all out of sync with his back end's waggling.
Elan pushes open the door, and flops on a couch to watch the proceedings with interest.
Arlen leans against the wall, watching the two, and nods at Elan.
The cub makes the occasional dodge, but she's more interested in landing a play-nip in return than in protecting her own hide. She does not notice the homid pair's arrival at all.
Piddles bops at the cub lightly with a big paw, attempting to bowl her over and pin her.
Clever-for-Food side-steps with the tap, then spins to face it. Play growling, she lunges for the leg, though she overshot her spinning and she's out of line now.
Piddles rises up on his rear legs and drops his bulk across Clever's back, hooking one paw across her chest and gnawing at her neck.
Rumbling little growly rowls come from Clever as she's bore down to the floor. She twists her head, trying to reach something to bite, but between Pids' position and jaws, she's out of luck; the cub stops struggling and allows the weight to push her over.
Elan smiles to Arlen, watching the training/play. "Pretty familiar.."
Arlen nods, thumping her shoe against the wall. "Yeah.Best way t'learn how to fight, is just to play..."
Piddles looks over at the homids and perks his ears, then turns back to the cub. This one wants you to repeat the first six laws of the Litany. If you do it right, maybe I will be able to take you out a little.
Pack> Elan says "Yep!"
Pack> Elan says "She seemed to like playing with Dani, too."
Clever-for-Food wiggles happily under Piddles, then reaches up and tries to lick him before asking RulesRulesLaws, no puppies?
Pack> Elan laughs! That is her name for you, my friend?
Pack> Piddles guesses so!
Piddles licks Clever's ear. Right! That's the first. No puppies with other Garou. What's the second?
Same as last night, Clever's wagging and wiggling slows as her energy gets redirected to thinking. Be good? No peeing-no biting-no fighting-not your place?
Piddles nips at her ear. That's rule three. What's the second law?
Clever-for-Food pulls her head away from the bite. Big dog gets most! Big dog's big-big-big dog! Eats first?
Piddles wuffs next to Clever's ear. That's the sixth. The second... I told you about the otherplace when I told you about the second.
Clever-for-Food's tongue runs across her muzzle and she turns her head further to look towards the fridge, distracted for a moment. Otherpl-? Oh! She tries to scramble out from under the large Gnawer. Shadows!
Piddles holds her in place. And what were the bad shadows called?
Clever-for-Food's eyes stay on the fridge a moment longer, then she answers. Bite-can't bite! Bad and not bad, smelly dead bad things! She wiggles happily, looking pleased with herself.
Piddles relents, letting the pup up. Wyrm, he tells her. Wyrm. He angles his ears at Arlen and Elan and rolls his eyes in a long-suffering expression countered by his doggie grin.
Elan, counting himself lucky to have perhaps taught Clever not to eat raw plastic, grins at his packmate.
Wyrm! Wyrm! Clever explodes into action as she's let up, paws scrambling as she rights herself and throws herself into motion. Once she gets all four limbs working in the same direction, she races for the fridge. Hungry, hungry, hungry!
Piddles rises with a heave and pads over. Human-born are sticky about 'being polite,' WagDancer. They will tell you to ask nicely. Have they told you how they want you to ask?
Clever-for-Food gathers herself then leaps up at the fridge, bouncing on her hind paws with her front against it. Silly, silly. Hungry!
Piddles lays his ears back in a manner that suggests he agrees with Clever's assessment of the rule. You need to know how, he tells her gently. You must be what they call "polite". Not demand. Ask. Say 'Please'? He demonstrates an appropriate plea by looking up at Arlen with *large* puppydog eyes, one paw half-raised and his tail thumping slowly.
Remaining standing on her hind paws, Clever turns her head to watch Piddles. She noses the fridge's door, then drops down to all fours again. As soon as all four are on the floor, she takes off in a bouncing run for Arlen. PleasePleasePleasePlease!
Arlen attempts not to smirk. "That is, in fact, a please," she murmurs, getting some hamburger out of her pack and handing it over to the elder Gnawer.
Piddles perks, evidently not having expected a reward, and wolfs the proffered hamburger down.
Arlen grins, watching Clever. "I think that'll do, for a pup," she murmurs to Piddles, and hands a goodly chunk to Clever, as well.
Piddles insinuates himself against Arlen's leg with a headbump and attempts to, with his Lupus Gift of Lightning Tongue, thoroughly clean off her hand.
Clever-for-Food snaps for the treat, taking no care at all for Arlen's fingers, sleve, hand, or arm. She gobbles it down.
Arlen, while not geared to youngsters, is evidently geared to dogs and/or wolves, as she makes quite certain not to let Clever bite any of her fingers off while she eats the meat. She lets Piddles lick the other hand, and then gives him an absent scritching. "Thanks."
Piddles sits back and thumps his tail. First law! he asks Clever again.
Clever-for-Food gives Arlen another hopeful look before answering, No puppies!
Arlen holds her hands up, to demonstrate her utter lack of food.
Piddles wuffs. Good. Second law!
Pack> Bailey bark.
Clever-for-Food rises and wags her way back to Arlen, then raises her head to sniff in the Fury's pack's direction. Bite the bad shadows!
Pack> Piddles woof!
Piddles wuffs. Good again. Third law!
Clever-for-Food lays her head against Arlen's leg, reminding her that the pup's still there. Her muzzle is parted into a smile, and for the moment she misses Pids' question.
Arlen reaches down to scritch the cub, and jerks her head toward the elder Gnawer. "Bigdog. Not me."
Piddles woofs. Third law!
Clever-for-Food gives up on Arlen's pack and wiggles in place. Third, third? Big dog eats first!
Piddles growls gently. Not third. There is a special order the human-born made and you must remember it that way, silly though it is. You had it a while ago.
Clever-for-Food flicks her ear in agreement to the silliness factor. She looks around, growing restless. No being bad, The cub guesses.
Piddles wuffs. Where are you not supposed to be bad?
Clever-for-Food drops her head to sniff at the floor; from her expression, she finds nothing of interest. Someone else's place.
Piddles paws the floor. Fourth Law? he asks, then adds, If you get all six right, we can go outside.
Clever-for-Food's ears shift backwards as she thinks hard. No biting after fight?
Piddles bounces on his front paws. Yes! Fifth Law?
Clever-for-Food blinks in surprise. She tries her food guess again, Big dog eats first-most-best?
Piddles flicks his ear. Not yet.
Pack> Elan grins.
Clever-for-Food heaves a sigh. Silly. She flops down, forehead furrowed and tail not wagging. No puppies?
Piddles nips at Clever's jaw. No, that is the first. It was another silly human-born law, the fifth one.
Clever-for-Food doesn't move away from the correcting nip. Her ears droop. No peeing somewhere else?
Elan smiles at Clever.
Piddles wurrrs. No. That is Third. He pounces on her suddenly, going for her throat in a dominance move. Fifth Law!
Clever-for-Food's not watching Piddles. Like a frustrated child, she's staring the other way; the elder Garou's jump is unexpected and Clever yips as she rolls with the weight, stopping once she's belly up and chin lifted. Don't know!
Pack> Bailey heys. what are you all up to?
Pack> Elan is watching Piddles pound the Litany into Clevercubbie.
Piddles gently releases Clever's throat and licks her muzzle. Submit to bigger dog. First law: no puppies with other Garou. Second law: fight Wyrm. Third law: no pissing in someone else's place. Fourth law: no biting after fighting. Fifth law: submit to bigger dog. Sixth law: food to bigger dog. You did well. He looks up at Elan and Arlen. We take her out now, you think?
Elan sratches his stubbly chin. "Yeah. Yeah. I wanna take her to the Church, too. Let her live with Dani."
Clever-for-Food huffs thoughtfully at the list. Knew 'em, She tells the other Gnawer, then starts wagging anew at the lick. Once he looks away to talk to the others, Clever tries to return the gesture.
Arlen says "Da - Oh, yes, the new cub. Certainly. If Pete has objections, well, be can object to you later. Right now, it makes considerable sense to me."
Piddles lets Clever lick him and then lets her up. He slurps Arlen's hand gleefully. I suppose it's too early to show her Umbra now, he says, drooping his ears a little.
Clever-for-Food bounds up. Outside? OutOutOut?
Elan leans forward to scritch his packmate. "Soon."
Arlen rises from her crouch. "Well, then."
Piddles headbumps Elan. Which way out? And what rules for Waggles, here?
Elan grins at his packmate, again reaching down to pet. "Clever can go anywhere in the Church she wants. Otherwise, she is not to leave except with one of us with her. We'll expand her range as soon as we can."
Clever-for-Food's not, by any stretch of the imagination, paying attrntion to the talk. She's racing between the group and the stairs (no small feat when the two are so close together already), working herself up.
Piddles cocks his head, flagging his ears. I actually meant, for on the way there.
Elan shrugs. "Well...we can't leash her. Um,... the minute open that door, she's gonna be gone like a damn shot.."
Tongue flopping out of the side of her muzzle, Clever excends her path to include the first few steps. Up she goes, then she leaps down, spins, races, then climbs once more to start over.
Not the most polite person in the world, Arlen. "Why can't we leash her? It's not as if she'll be angry at us for the rest of our lives."
Elan shakes his head. "No leash." He gets up to go over to the fridge. "Big Dog ain't gonna mind a sacrifice for the cubbie." He begins to root in there.
The opening of the fridge is a sure way to grab Clever's attention. She spins a full circle, then heads for Elan, barking happily. Hungry! Hungry!
Arlen shrugs, murmuring, "Think of it as a disguise," but nods to the Gnawer, crossing her arms patiently.
Piddles cocks his head at Arlen. I remember the leash, he notes simply.
Elan pulls out some cold cuts and makes sure the door stay closed. "Pid, tell her that if she runs off, she don't get this food right here." He starts for the door. "Come."
Clever-for-Food dances around Elan. She moves from his left to his right, behind him then directly under foot. The cub leaps for the meat every few steps. Hungry!
Piddles snaps, clashing his jaws together under Clever's nose. Behave. Do not run away once we're outside, or you get NO FOOD. Understand?
The only effect Pids' snap has on Clever is an altering of her path so she doesn't jump directly into it. No running! she agrees happily.
Elan pushes open the door, almost hiding the meat in his hand. But she must know it's still there. He watches to see how this is going to work as he walks up the stairs.
Elan leaves up the stairs into the theater above.
Elan has left.
Stay close! Pid woofs forcefully.
Arlen nods faintly to Piddles. "My apologies for bringing it up."
Piddles woofs at Arlen. No problem.
Clever-for-Food scrambles up after Elan.
Clever-for-Food leaves up the stairs into the theater above.
Clever-for-Food has left.
Arlen leaves up the stairs into the theater above.
Arlen has left.
You go into a dimly lit hallway and then up a spiral staircase that leads you to another hallway and eventually out into the theater auditorium.
The Rialto -- Auditorium(#3319RJ)
The roar of the crowd. The smell of greasepaint. "Now is the winter of our discontent..." An old, darkly nostalgic quality hangs heavy in the air of this empty old theater. Once black-painted windows no longer refuse the light of sun and moon, now broken and open to the city sky.
Largely gutted now, this once gilded and opulent theater spreads like an old grand dame holding desperately to a past now gone and largely forgotten. The plush seats which once held nearly a thousand people are, for the most part, long gone. Time's indifferent hand has dulled the once ornate proscenium arch and faded the velvet red of the main curtain, leaving the wide stage in dark shadows before the gaping and toothless mouth of the music pit.
At the right side of the stage, from the auditorium floor, a door leads toward the back of the theater. To the left of the stage, an old exit sign still glows above a reinforced door. In the back of the auditorium, archways lead back to the lobby and the boarded up front doors.
Contents:
Arlen
Clever-for-Food
Elan
Odd-smelling package
Obvious exits:
Stage Door Alley Door
Elan pushes open the alley door, letting in the light. He gives Clever just the merest nibble of meat as he goes through.
Elan leaves through the exit door into the alley.
Arlen leaves through the exit door into the alley.
Clever-for-Food leaves through the exit door into the alley.
You leave through a door out into an alley and quickly find yourself on the street.
East Elson Commercial Sector and Waterfront
Motels, movie theaters with posters of scantily-clad women, and even a few posters of nudes, and bars are interspersed with stairways leading to dilapidated second stories or downwards into basements. Women saunter along the western streets of the district, around Third and Fourth Streets. In the area around Second, a profusion of graffiti markings of black knives or the words 'The Blades' are scattered along buildings and sidewalks. A little further eastwards beer cans are scattered around the entrance to one bar with, if one looks through the window, several pool tables in enthusiastic use for several hours a night and even occasionally during the day.
Contents:
Clever-for-Food
Arlen
Elan
SCPD Patrol Car
Pedro(#4101Jep)
Obvious exits:
Fountain The Rialto The Underground North West South
Once outside, Clever stands stock-still for a moment. Bright, excited eyes dart about as her nose works, trying to take in every single scent.
Piddles strides up next to Clever, ready to pounce off after her at the slightest provocation or sign that she's making a break for it.
Elan whistles for Clever, showing off the meat.
Arlen lurks in the background, perfectly ready to act as backup. Or just to eat an apple, later.
Food or ... everything. It's a hard choice for the young Gnawer, and for the moment she doesn't make it. She remains fixed in place, breeze tugging at her dirty fur, her head swinging back and forth to track scents and sounds.
Piddles noses Clever. Don't run away, he grumbles. Come on. New place, new people.
Clever's whining grows louder and she peeks back at Elan over her shoulder before turning back to look at the park. Her paws' pace picks up, yet she only inches along and -not- towards Elan.
Arlen parks her bike, briefly, and moves towards the cub, giving a amazingly dog-like bark of "Go!"
Elan moves over to grasp Clever's muzzle. "Come." He looks to Piddles. "Ask her why she ain't coming? She lookos like she's gotta pee."
Piddles wuffs and grabs Clever's scruff. Leave park for another time. Come now.
Clever-for-Food starts a little at Arlen's 'bark', looking to her and distracted enough to let Pids grab her. Play! The cub tries to plant her paws, protesting being pulled along.
Elan grimaces and simply tries picks Clever up in his arms. "Play soon."
Piddles keeps his grip on Clever. Not now. Play soon. Not in park.
Well, Clever does not seem too hot on /that/ idea. As soon as Elan wiggles his arms between herself and Piddles and lift her, Clever starts struggling in earnest. Blunt clawed dig into the Gnawer's shirt and she tosses her head back and forth, paying no mind to any head-butting (or face-butting) of Elan that might happen.
Elan tries to calm the Gnawer cub. "Clever...clam down." He hopes that, at least the tone of his voice will convey his intentions.
Piddles growls at the cub, one of the least forgiving noises either Clever or Elan has ever heard him make. None of this. BeHAVE. You will play soon enough.
The homid Gnawer's tone does nothing at all to settle the nearing-panic cub. Her own growl starts, though it's of a much different tone's than Piddles. She kicks all four legs and twists as she tries to escape the 'trap' of Elan's arms.
Joey comes down the street from the west.
Elan grimaces and takes his arms from around the cub, making sure to keep one hand on her. "Behave." Again, the cold cut is proffered.
Pack> Bailey woof.
Pack> Piddles arf.
Clever-for-Food drops the short distance to the ground, her fur in disarray from the struggle and her brown ears flattened. Her growling cuts off as soon as she's released and she turns to face Elan directly; her tail is low and does not wag at all. She does not near to get the meat, instead the cub eyes the homid Gnawer with distrust.
Clever-for-Food pages all: Aie. She'll back up a step or two if she can, too. Sorry.
Elan offers the cold cut, apology in his eyes.
Piddles bumps his head against Clever. Come. We need to hurry. The big dog stands ready to guide her by her scruff, if necessary.
Clever-for-Food leans in, stretching to take the meat without actually stepping closer; hurt brown eyes remain on Elan's as she takes the cold cut. Snack eaten, the pup lean against Piddles for a moment, then dips her head acceptingly.
Joey drives from over the bridge, into the city. Her normal jeans are replaced with leather pants, and black gloves hide her hands on the grips of her motorcycle. With the final addition of a sleek black helment and its shaded visor, she looks vaguely like one of the Wild Hunt reborn to modern time: faceless, sexless, and implacable. Both she and the bike gleam with damp from the less than perfect weather. Stopped briefly at a red light, Joey turns her head to look around. The motor roars back into life as the light turns green, but sullenly, as she only accelerates enough to go the half-block to pull near the curb where Elan tries to feed two dogs.
Piddles licks the cub's ear affectionately.
Elan pulls out another cold-cut to demonstrate that, yes, there is more food. He moves a bit to see if Clever is goig to come, then turns to see the motorcycle. He glances back at Clever, unwilling to take his eye off her.
Clever-for-Food's eyes go to the new slice of meat, but she does not start walking, she does not move away from Piddles. Slowly her tail finds its wagging pace again and she ducks away from the lick only to dive her muzzle down towards the other lupe's near forepaw.
Piddles lets Clever grab his forepaw. I will take her on further, while she is willing. You talktalk.
Elan tosses the coldcut to the other, larger, dog and glances to the bike once more.
Clever-for-Food makes a quick recovery. She nips and licks at Piddles' paw, looking up belatedly as he gets the next slice of meat.
Joey lets the bike idle in neutral, holding it in place with one boot planted on the ground. She flips up the visor, water dripping down as the kinfolk exposes her face. Her voice is tinged with slight antagonism, masked under a husky teasing. "You out feeding the hungry now, Prettyboy?"
Elan chuckles a bit. "Always, yep." He glances to Arlen, and the other two.
*Joey is looking at you.*
Joey gives the dogs a once-over, then shrugs. "I remember you having one with you, when I met you. You own some, or something?"
Bonetrail comes from the north, from Regan Street.
Elan nods. "Yep. Ten or twelve."
Pack> Elan says "Oh, thank god."
Joey laughs. "Jesus Christ. And you're out feeding more?"
*Bonetrail is looking at you.*
Joey sits on an idling bike, all in riding leathers. SHe has on a black helmet with the vsor flipped up, talking to Elan.
Elan nods. "Yep. I like dogs and, well, can't stand to see a stray starve. Especially in winter."
Piddles nudges Clever along after chuffing a seemingly random noise -- actually a greeting -- at Bonetrail.
Clever-for-Food 'walks' (to use the term loosely) along with Piddles, her head down as she continues to attempt to land playful nips at the other lupe's paw. She has not noticed the new arrival yet.
Bonetrail pads southward along the sidewalk, his feet carrying him in a weaving meander, going from the shadows of the grim buildings to the very curb and back. His nose is to the pavement almost the entire time, steadily working over some scent. The familiar canines down the block bring him up short though, and he returns the greeting a little more loudly and forecfully before walking closer. His tail is level and his steps stiff - clearly asserting some dominance that even a human might be able to notice.
Piddles whines and drops his tail slightly, wagging it and his whole back end. This is one of our elders, little one, he tells Clever. Greetings, rhya.
Clever-for-Food's head shoots up from her fun with Piddles' paw. Hi! The young cub goes from a stand still to a full-out run towards the elder Garou in a single pace. HiHiHiHi! she greets him excitedly, ducking her head and tail lower as she nears.
Piddles makes his way after Clever a little hurriedly. This is one of our new cubs, Clever-For-Food, Bonetrail-rhya.
Joey exchanges one last comment with Elan, then drives on.
Bonetrail turns himself so the pup greets his shoulder and flank, his gaze going over Clever in a formal show of distant superiority. He isn't fazed by the cub's excitement though, and the way his tail begins to move, he just might be willing to play. Later. For now he lets Piddles know that he knows this little bitch well enough, since she has been denning with weasel's pack. She knows my scent too. This is with a mix of certainty and questioning that make it clear he expects the cub to introduce herself as well.
Piddles wags his tail, accepting the elder's information, but looks less than hopeful that the cub will remember to introduce herself. My packmate and I were taking her to the Church to stay with our other cub.
Clever-for-Food fails to respond to the elder's cue, instead sniffing low along his side and works her way back towards his tail, angling her own body to allow him the same access. She wiggles happily as this more simple 'introduction' is performed, her paws raising and lowering as if she was about to take off at a run again.
Bonetrail grunts and bares the teeth along one side of his muzzle, using one wide paw to bat at one of Clever's ears. He obviously expects some formality first, and if the pup needs to be taught he will gladly do it. There's a note of quiet severity to the way he /doesn't/ look at the cub.
Still dancing in place, the cub is still distracted enough by his scent (or a passing car, or a bird, or a dust mote) that the wack lands. Clever blinks and bounces around to face him, and though she ducks her head her smile does not fade in the least. I'm me! She offers with a wag. Then after a pause, CleverCleverClever!
Piddles chuffs and ducks his head, almost a homid mannerism of coughing to hide a chuckle.
Bonetrail knows you are clever, but you still manage to be as stupid as a squirrel. With that, he lunges in, snake-quick, to nip the ear he was just batting, any hint of playfulness gone. A growl has started at the back of his throat, quiet and threatening, and he makes it obvious that there will be no more playing until the cub knows how to introduce herself.
Clever manages to get all four of her paws working together as she tries to back away from the teeth, but she's too late and the nip lands. The pup yips. The dirty fur along her hackles and spine raise and lower in a wave as her brown ears lay back, and a tightening of the cub's eyes protest his words and his actions. She halts after that pair of steps back, hunkering down closer to the ground and watching him. Not stupid like squirrel!
Piddles sits down to watch the elder and the cub.
Bonetrail moves forward even as the cub steps back, stiff-legged, his tail swaying slowly behind him - a fair warning for potential violence. The growl stays where it is, lurking in the back of his throat, still just a warning, and he lets Clever know that if he weren't a Gnawer of Bones she would be bloody and whining now. But he is Rat's Child, and will give her one last chance to do what is expected of her... of /any/ pup that has been taught /anything/.
Clever-for-Food backs no further, and instead crouches lower to the dirty pavement, following his movement with her eyes. She takes a breath in and throws out the information in a single burst of feelings and gestures, I'mMeGnawerGarouFour-Leg-Can-Be-TwoCubMe!
Bonetrail immediately turns away, his stance loosening noticeably. That is good enough for now, so I won't bite you for real. Next time you run across an elder's feet, you do what you are doing now, and let them know how you are called, what tribe is in your blood, and which moon sings for you. Others won't be nice like I have been. The bigger Gnawer even lets his tail begin to wag a little, and he lowers his forequarters in the gesture for playing.
Okay! Clever agrees brightly, the confrontation as good as forgotten. After a good wiggle, the pup throws herself forward at the larger Gnawer, aiming play bites at his ruff, shoulder, and ear. Her tail fans behind her, increasing its speed until her whole rump is in motion with it.
Piddles exhales the breath he hadn't quite realized he was holding.
Bonetrail bounds back after a few nips, his tail thwacking behind him - and in Clever's face if she follows too closely - and wheels in a tight circle, moving to stand behin Piddles so that pup will attack the ahroun. He even bats at Piddles tail with each of his front paws, to get him up and in the way.
Bonetrail goes home.
Bonetrail has left.
Piddles bounces up, his stubby tail vibrating, and woofs!
Clever-for-Food does follow too closely, though the pup seems to little mind being wacked by the tail as she bounds after Bonetrail, worrying his heels. However his plan works and soon enough she has transferred her attention to Piddles.
Piddles runs in the direction of the Church, just fast enough to stay a little ahead of the pup, periodically scooping back around to chase her tail for a bit before pulling out ahead again.
Again, clever falls for the plan and soon enough, the two are running for the Church.
Forgotten Church(#1801RAJLM)
The old church is dark, dimly lit by outside light coming in through scum-encrusted windows during the day, and tomblike during the night. There is a coatroom in the back of the nave, with separate doors leading off to mens' and womens' restrooms, and two staircases, one going up to the balcony and bell-tower, and the other leading down to the basement. The double doors leading out to the street are at the back of the coatroom.
The hard wooden pews in the sanctuary are, for the most part, still intact. There are even Bibles and hymnals left in the shelves along the back of each row, although many of them look rather chewed on. The altar on a dais at the front of the church is empty, and the lectern that once stood next to it has been knocked over. Rotting red cloth hangs at the very front of the church; there might once have been a design on it, but it has long since faded or been eaten away.
Contents:
Gargoyle
Obvious exits:
Street Basement
Clever-for-Food has arrived.
Piddles leads Clever inside after forcing a door open with his nose. The door closes with a boom behind them, and Piddles allows the pup to catch him.
Clever-for-Food makes only an abortative jump at Pids, quickly enough distracted by her new surroundings.
Piddles perks his ears at her interest. This is where you'll stay now, instead of where we were before. There is another cub here, and more people come here more often. More people to play with! he concludes, trying to catch her attention to his commentary.
Clever-for-Food vanishes between two rows, her back, then her rear, then her wagging tail slipping into he shadows. Stay!
Piddles chases after her by going over the pews. Same rules. You don't go outside unless someone Not-Cub goes with you. Okay?
Okay, okay! Clever looks back at the following Gnawer. Food soon? Hungry! She blinks, then turns around to face Pids. Please, please!
Piddles arfs! You come with me, I get you food. If you *ever* want to be two-leg, you *don't* change up here, you understand? You go downstairs where food is to change.
Clever-for-Food agrees once more. Okay! She tries to push past him within the row.
Piddles bounds from the pews to the floor and dashes for the stairs.
Clever-for-Food races with the other Gnawer, yipping 'Food' each time her paws touch the floor.
You go down to the basement.
Forgotten Church Basement(#1279RJLM)
This basement is only partly below ground level, and there are windows evenly spaced on the walls, right below the ceiling level. The main part of it is a large open area with a small kitchen in one corner and a large, ratty carpet in the center, covering the cement floor. There is a rather large window in the kitchen; it looks as though it might actually open onto the street. On the wall opposite the kitchen is a large bin, and there are folding tables along the wall perpendicular to it. On the other wall there are a few folding chairs, many fewer than one would expect from the number of tables.
A hallway next to the kitchen leads off to two offices and what once might have been a classroom.
Clever-for-Food appears in the doorway leading to the stairs, arriving from above.
Clever-for-Food has arrived.
Piddles gallops down the stairs and hits the main floor Changing.
+shift homid
Piddles contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
You shift into Homid form.
Piddles rises to his two human legs and continues into the kitchen.
Clever-for-Food follows right after, but does not change once she hits the landing. She scouts around, quickly locating the kitchen and it's fridge.
Piddles scritches Clever as he opens the fridge and rummages.
Clever-for-Food attempts to push her head in, sniffing around if she's allowed.
Piddles shoves a hotdog -- out of the wrapper -- into Clever's mouth and goes on rummaging.
Clever-for-Food sits back onto her hindquarters, finishing the hot dog in three bites. She licks her mizzle, then rises to return for another.
Piddles backs out of the fridge with a stack of food. He tugs Clever out of her nose-first dive with his foot, then closes the door. "Come on," he says in his amiable homid voice. "Two-leg. Be two-leg," he tries, not sure how much English she actually comprehends.
Not much, by how quickly she shifts (not at all). She follows next to him, her eyes fixed on his armfull. Food, food, Good!
Piddles hms briefly, then drops a piece of bologna to distract Clever long enough for him to put the food up high on top of the fridge. Then he drops to lupus.
+shift lupus
Piddles contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
You shift into Lupus form.
Pack> Elan argfle!!
Shadow Eyes appears in the doorway leading to the stairs, arriving from above.
Pack> Bailey arf!
As usual, Clever is easily enough distracted by the food at hand as opposed to the food Pids is holding. She gobbles it up, then licks the floor.
Shadow Eyes pads down and sits on the last stoop, watching.
Piddles wuffs to catch Clever's attention. Become two-leg. More teaching, yes.
Clever-for-Food makes a face. Be silly silly two-legs-not-four?
Piddles arfs an affirmative. More teaching, even while you eat.
'Eating' gets the cub. Clever shifts up, wacking a hand at her jeans as they and her shirt reappear.
Clever-for-Food contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
Clever-for-Food shifts into Homid form.
Piddles contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
You shift into Homid form.
Piddles smiles, close-lipped, and walks over to the fridge to retrieve the food from the top. He brings a pizza box, some cold cuts, and a small, partly picked-over chicken. As he walks to a table, he tosses a cold cut to Elan.
Clever-for-Food remains on the floor after she shifts, in a position not too different than the one she held in lupe, Her eyes follow Pids' every movement, especially once he's holding the food.
Shadow Eyes snaps it out of the air, and licks his lips. Mmmm.
Piddles makes a beckoning motion, but gestures for her to stand with a piece of cold pizza.
Clever-for-Food's brown eyes dart left and right, then she scuttles over to the closest chair. Gripping it tightly for support, she makes her way to her feet, though now she's out of range to get the pizza. A soft whine sounds from her throat as she loosens one hand to reach.
Piddles walks closer and sets the pizza into her hand. "Pizza!" he says, pointing at the food. "Pizza!"
Shadow Eyes munches on the cold cut, then settles back to watch from the shadows.
The pizza doesn't stay in Clever's hand long. As soon as Piddles places it there, she lets the hand (and the slice) fall, letting go of the chair so she can follow it down. Both palms down flat, she lowers her head to snatch it up.
Piddles sighs and grins, letting her eat that piece her way.
Not only does Clever eat it, she's kind enough to lick the sauce and bits of topping off the floor with her now-shorter homid tongue, leaving it cleaner than how they found it.
Piddles waits for her to finish, then gestures her back up.
Clever-for-Food seems to know the gesture, at least. Using the chair again, she rises to her feet.
This time, Piddles takes a cold cut, rolls it up, and, holding it with his fingers, takes a bite. Then he reaches down, take hold of Clever's hand, sets the roll of bologna between her fingers, and holds her hand in that shape while bringing the food to her lips.
Clever's blue jeansed bottom wiggles as she watches the food come closer. Her fingers take the proper position only once Piddles places them that way. Her mouth opens and she lowers her head to meet their hand, then gulps the meat. She bounces a little, one hand gripping the chair as she makes happy noises.
Piddles then proceeds to something similar with a piece of pizza (announcing, again, "Pizza!"), only this time, he prevents her from shoving it wholesale down her gullet. He lets her have only the very tip of the piece of pizza, one hand gripping hers, the other ready to brace her forehead to keep her back. Thusly, he prevents her from gulping too large a piece and choking. He looks over at Elan. "Pids'll worry bout da choooin' later, yah?"
And it does take his hand on her head to keep the Gnawer cub from trying to shove the whole thing into her mouth at once. She snatches as much as she can, then tries to jerk it out of her own hand to gain even more; she swallows it pretty much whole. His announcements of the name seem to pass right over her head.
Piddles sighs, and continues to work at giving her small pieces of the pizza slice until the slice is gone.
Two slices of pizza and cold cuts both here and on the way over, and the girl still acts like she hasn't eaten in weeks. A rather canine whine rising from her homid throat, she looks to the rest of the food.
Piddles picks up a drumstick and holds her hand around it correctly, then, using the same bracing-the-head routine, endeavors to demonstrate the wisdom of incisors.
The elder Gnawer has a harder time with this one. Clever keeps trying to get her mouth a far around it as she can.
Piddles works at it, hoping desperately that with his superior strength he will prevail.
Shadow Eyes vanishes up the stairwell to the sanctuary.
Well, either his strength or Clever's desire for the food wins out. The cub finally lets him position her head however he wants so she can get at least some of the food. Problem is, now she's slowly sinking back to the floor, muscles unaccustomed to holding this position getting tired.
Piddles lets her kneel, or crouch, or sit, as her muscles desire, and keeps at it until she has consumed the meat on the drumstick.
Back to home.