The butterflies engulf the trio suddenly, obscuring the view of the tall, green trees and the varicolored flowers and any sign of walls. This place looks like it goes on for miles... or, at least, that's how it looks before your view is occluded by capering yellow butterflies.

Derrick, mind filled with warnings not to touch butterflies or they'll never be able to fly again, stays very still.

Erik makes a strangled noise with Derrick's voicebox and puts his arms over his head but otherwise remains still.

Athena brushes her hand across Erik's shoulders, and then yanks it away quickly, averting her eyes and looking down.

After a long moment full of flutters of tiny wings, the butterflies disperse, leaving you with a clear view of your surroundings. Only the glass ceiling seems to form any sort of visible boundary. The golden light seems to be glowing off the plants and earth here.

Derrick takes a shuddering breath and asks Erik, eyes slightly wild, "Are you her, or are you him?"

Erik lowers his arms slowly. "I'm... Erik." He looks at his hands. "Er. Mentally, anyway."

Athena reaches out a hand to one of the plants slowly, gently. She glances over at Derrick. "I'm--" she stops, snapping her mouth shut.

Derrick says, "Right. Well, gimme my body back when you're done with it. Where the hell are we and where should we go from here?"

Erik's attention jerks toward the sound of his own voice from /outside/ his head, fascinated. He drags his eyes away with difficulty. "Er." Hesitantly, he looks at Athena's body, which seems to be housed by Derrick the alpha. "I don't know?"

Derrick shakes his head. "Jesus. I... you... sound weird. Well, we ain't splittin' up. So, 'Thena," he says, looking at Erik's body, "Pick a direction. We can boggle some more while we're goin'."

Athena glances up and then points over Athena-body's shoulder. She whispers, "That way. Can I have my knife, please?"

Derrick starts slightly, and removes the knife from its sheath, handing it silently to his packmate. "Right," he says, turning around, "Let's blow this popsicle stand." He turns on Blur, and says, in a slightly fainter tone, "Well, shit, it worked."

Athena stares at her blurred body for a long moment, or rather, where she thinks it is, eyes narrowed and confused. She holds onto her knife as if it's a security blanket and starts to trudge after Derrick, only tripping twice.

The three of you realize that there is a low hum in the background of your hearing, almost too low to hear, which is why, in your unfamiliar bodies, it took you this long to detect.

Erik brings up the rear in Derrick's borrowed Glabro body, wordlessly.

Erik frowns, head tilting as he walks along. "Er. Do you hear that?"

Athena stumbles to a halt, cursing musically under her breath and bears her head around towards Erik, single hand clenched, white knuckled.

Derrick tries to move silently, and trips over something. Perhaps a blade of grass. "Huh? What should I hear?"

It sounds mechanical, like a computer monitor, and somehow muffled as well. Traveling in the direction you picked seems to be increasing the volume. Over all that are occasional bird calls: cardinals' harsh notes, mockingbirds' shrieks, and the laughter of crows.

Erik puts a hand over his eyes and _listens_. Even in a body not his own, the Fianna is acutely aware of sounds, his brain and awareness attuned to them. "Listen."

Athena stills herself for a moment, drawing on the focus she's learned. She chirps quietly after a moment, a calling in owlspeech.

Derrick finally catches on, narrowing his eyes and concentrating. "Oh. Huh. Weird. Well, c'mon, let's do some more tripping. Well, and walking." He pauses to watch Athena first, eyebrow cocked.

Erik drops the hand and nods. His attention strays toward Athena and then jerks away, shoulders tightening in revulsion.

You paged Athena with 'You receive no answering calls.'.

From the tiny green clearing, you advance into trees. The farther you go, the louder the hum, the thicker and lusher the vegetation. Greens in all shades strike the eye, and brilliant flowers and fruits loll in your path. Apple trees, peach trees, pear trees, plum trees, cherry trees, all rich with fruit *and* blossom intertwine with stout oaks and sprawling beeches.

Derrick tries to decide if he's hungry, and if so, if it would be wise to eat any of this fruit. He runs a hand down one of the tree's trunks as he moves past it, trying to follow the noise.

As the signs of pleasant greenery increases, Erik dares to relax slightly. The fact that he's been under continual strain since Quiet tied them all together is a definite contributing factor to this unconscious decision.

Athena doesn't particularly relax much. In fact, the sight of the flowering and fruiting trees seems to make her even more nervous. Almost unconsciously, she checks for Wyrm.

You paged Athena with 'Boy, howdy, there's a Wyrm source ahead of you!'.

Derrick, finally, picks an apple, and holds it as he walks.

Erik focusses his attention on the humming sound as he walks along with the others. He remains silent.

Athena stops.

Athena says quietly, "It's bad ahead."

Derrick pages: SW, yadda. *ping*
You paged Derrick with 'Boy, howdy, there's a Wyrm source ahead of you!'.

Erik stops a moment after Athena does. Hearing his own voice through another's ears still spooks the Fianna visibly. "Oh." His eyes, avoiding the tall, skeletal body that Athena is inhabiting, shift toward Derrick/Athena.

Derrick doesn't stop quite immediately, but once Erik's voice penetrates his consciousness, he stops, and says, "Huh? What's..." He trails off, nose twitching once, and says, "Oh. Wyrm ahoy. Well. That'd prolly be what we're lookin' for..."

Athena shivers, her form quivering upwards. Her hand, still clenched awkwardly around her knife, brushes against the wound in Erik's body. ~Guess so. Guess so.~ She ducks her head.

The vegetation reaches a thickness that rivals kudzu, and moving forward is slow going. Derrick shoves aside a thicket of branches (looks like a vast forsythia bush) and disturbs a nest of wasps.

Derrick hisses, and shifts down into lupus, turning off his scent. People, should I check ahead?

Erik, busy watching the pack alpha in order to avoid looking at, well, /himself/, stumbles back at sight of the wasps. He nods.

Stay here for awhile, then, he mutters, and ghosts forward, sticking to cover, to investigate.

The wasps circle irritably for a while, but settle back quickly, almost sedately.

Erik settles into a crouch, shoulders hunching. After a moment, he shifts to lupus form. Derrick's lupus form, of course, and despite himself there's a definite /good/ feeling about having a full pelt of fur for once.

Athena shifts her weight irritably, the cold nipping at her extremities and the extremities themselves doing nothing to help her already volatile nature.

Erik glances sidelong at Athena shifting around in his body, but he doesn't look directly at the deformed shape. ~You'll get used to it,~ he rumbles, ears folding down. ~Or, well, hopefully not. Not enough time to have to get used to it. Er.~ He shifts his own weight awkwardly on four paws.

You paged Falcon's Wing with 'The growth is easier to get through in lupus, and the going is faster for you. You break out into a clearing full of grass nearly man-high. In the center, overgrown with vines both flowering and fruiting, is a metallic sphere, propped up in an entangled metal frame. Glowering at the edge of the clearing is a tall, dark shrub glistening with evil red berries and purplish-green leaves.'.

Athena glances down at her furred packmate and says gruffly, ~Not your fault.~

Falcon's Wing pages: SW. If you're one of the folks who does area SW, can I triamgulate to figure out what's most Wyrmy. Yadda. (Wihtout touching them berries and leaves)
You paged Falcon's Wing with 'Oh, yeah, that shrub would be the Wyrm.'.

Erik ducks his muzzle and watches the spot where Derrick/Athena vanished, his ears still back and down.

Falcon's Wing fades back into view after a rather short moment. There's this bush that's all Wyrmy, and a weaver thing in the middle of the clearning that probably should be examined. C'mon, he says, turning back the way he came.

Erik chuffs once and pushes to his paws, trotting after the pack's alpha.

Athena trudges after, glaring down at her abruptly missing hand, the crippling suddenly more offensive than the deformities.

The overgrowth is easier to get through in lupus. You break out into a clearing rippling with man-high grass. At the center, overgrown with vines both flowering and fruiting, is a metallic sphere, propped up in an entangled metal frame. Glowering at the edge of the clearing is a tall, dark shrub glistening with evil red berries and purplish-green leaves. The shrub shivers, despite the absence of breeze. The grass sways toward the sphere, caressing its surface with desirous fronds.

Falcon's Wing begins making a beeline for the sphere, and then stops. Think we should deal with that plant first, yes?

Athena crouchs down and mumbles, ~Think we should figure out what they're doing here first. Weaver, Wyrm, Wyld.~

Erik chuffs his assent, quietly.

Falcon's Wing stares at the plant balefully. Well, then why don't I figure out what's in the weaver thing?

Athena feels around for a stone to toss at the green plant.

Erik remains in wolf form, muzzle lifted as he samples the scents upon the air.

Falcon's Wing makes his way, stiffly, over to the thing in the middle, shifting to glabro as he does so.

A stone comes to Athena's hand easily. The scents are rich and dazzling, holding no hint of predators other than yourselves... well, and that plant. It oozes a rich sweetness that dizzies the head.

The sphere appears to be of solid steel. At the far side, there is a single small valve that looks like a pressure vent. In a direct line with that vent, and coning outward from it, the grass is thicker and greener, and things meant only to be ground cover, like moss, stand a foot high.

Falcon's Wing pages: Like, it can be turned?
You paged Falcon's Wing with 'You'll have to tear vines and other growing things off it to turn it.'.

Erik sneezes -- once, twice, three times --- at the dizzy scent from the bush and shifts upward and into Derrick's human form.

Athena cradles her knife in the crook of her handless arm, and then awkwardly tosses the stone towards the bush.

Falcon's Wing starts tearing vines off the sphere, a somewhat dubious expression in his eyes.

Erik hesitates, then moves to help his packmate tear off the vines. He clearly has no ideas of his own at the moment.

Athena is doing her best to try and figure out what they should be /doing/ there. What the Wyrm is threatening-- probably the berries are poisoned, but the plant is just sitting there. What the Weaverthing is doing encouraging the wild growth. How they connect. She's no Erik-- well, actually, she is, but she seems to be the same inside. Still, she thinks.

The vines and other growing things are thick and tough and full of juice, but they come free under the powerful hands of the Garou. The shrub shudders and rattles its branches threateningly at Athena, a few ripe berries plopping to the ground and making little sizzling noises.

Erik stops suddenly, frowning. His eyes go to the bush, then the sphere. He takes a step back, brow furrowed.

Erik pages all: Burns a few circuits in thinking.
You paged Erik with 'You do notice in your examination that the branches of the shrub are all stretching toward the sphere. In fact, the shrub as a whole is tilted that way.'.

Once Derrick and Erik have mostly cleared it, Derrick takes a step back. "'Thena, Erik, what's up with this thing? I mean, if I turn it on, am I gonna be screwin' something up?"

Erik rubs at his forehead. "Wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait." He takes a deep breath. "The mission /is/ to find her sisters that are trapped." He eyes the bush with a frown.

Falcon's Wing looks at the plant dubiously. "And not to futz with Wyrm things? I had some weird idea turnin' thing on'd help, somehow."

Erik moves gingerly toward the Wyrmbush. "It's reaching for the sphere," the Fianna says slowly. He points toward the stretching branches. "See?" He frowns. "This could be part of the mission... but how?"

Falcon's Wing says, sounding confused, "And if this thing's Weaver, why's it encouraging Wyld growth?"

"Because..." Erik searchs for half-formed ideas. "In the uncorrupted Triat, the three work together."

Athena frowns. ~But what is it doing?~

Erik moves over toward the sphere and lays his hand against it, palm flat against the surface. "Perhaps it is not all Weaver," he says, slowly.

Athena is staring at the bush, mostly, still perturbed by it.

Falcon's Wing suddenly blinks. "Maybe we should stick you under it, if it encourages Wyld growth."

Erik pages all: Is the valve on the same side as the Wyrmbush, i.e., facing it?
Limbo pages all: Not exactly. But close.
Erik pages: Close enough that if it was opened, the bush would get hit by the Wyld-flow?
Long distance to Erik: Limbo nods.

Erik moves around the sphere toward the valve and crouches down next to it. "If we turned this on, full," he says, sweeping his hand -- the left, oddly enough -- from the valve to the bush -- "it... it might balance out the taint in the bush."

Falcon's Wing says, "Well, then," Erik's suggestion entirely agreeing with his natural impatience, and turns it on.

The valve, in the tradition of valves that vent pressure and not much else, hisses slightly, then a bit more, as swirling Wyld energies vent out in a cone. The shrub rattles and stretches into the flow. Random energies rattle through the trio mischievously, and Derrick is in Erik's body, Athena in Derrick's, and Erik in Athena's.

Derrick says, melodiously, "Holy shit," and stares accusingly at the sphere. "Maybe try this again?"

Athena stares at her hands, moves over, takes her knife out of Erik/Derrick's hand, goes over, and reaches up hesitantly towards the valve again, looking at the other two?

Derrick nods mutely.

Erik abruptly snarls, and in a rage-fueled motion he's up and in Crinos -- Athena's Crinos. A clawed fist slams down on the sphere. ~We have the break the damned thing.~

Athena ducks back away from Erik's fist, eyes wide, body awkward again.

Derrick holds out his only hand. ~Whoa! I want back into my own body, here. Y'think breakin' it'll cure all of this, including US?~

Erik continues slamming the darkfurred fist down on the surface of the sphere, as hard as he can, teeth bared. ~Breach the container, yes!~

Derrick says, teeth bared, ~/WHY/?~

Athena blurs up into Derrick's crinos and starts raking her claws sideways across the surface of the sphere, sharpening them in preparation to plunging them into the metal.

Erik speaks, using Athena's fist to beat at the sphere. ~The Wyld energies have to be released. The valve isn't big enough.~

Athena adds, "It's weavering them. Controlling them." She slows, her sharpening getting thoughtful.

Derrick says, ~Oh, that makes, in fact, sense,~ and shifts up into Crinos. After a long moment, he shifts back down to glabro, shivering, and starts punching the thing.

Athena stops and begins to quote, quietly. ~Wyld created. Weaver contained. Wyrm destroyed. I don't know...~ she trails off.

The pounding dents, scratches and dings the sphere. It takes an incredible amount of punishment, but then one of Derrick's wild, one-handed blows knocks off the valve. There is a shriek of rending metal as it tears, and time slows as the three of you watch it drop to the ground. The metal around the new orifice bulges, tears, stretches... and then the world explodes.

Erik lets out a yelp just before the explosion and falls back.

Derrick yelps, and buries his head in his arm, trying not to be blinded and/or deafened.

Athena covers her face with the backs of her hands, razor talons pointing /outwards/.

The sensation is like millions of tiny grains of sand driven through your body, though it is not all pain. You smell colors, you taste the explosion's sound, you can feel your bodies shift and contort. And you hardly notice when you land, sprawling painfully, on hard turf, in your rightful bodies, in Crinos.

Derrick groans. ~Jesus fucking...~ He trails off, and bolts to a sitting position. ~Huh!?~

Sings-in-Shadow lies on his side, eyes squeezed shut and curled fetal.

Athena pushes herself to her feet, crawling blindly at first, looking for her knife /again/.

On the plain ahead of you, the former location of the Weaver fortress is a ball of swirling light, and it is spreading out in a lazy wavefront, sweeping over gray, barren earth.

Derrick, facing that direction, widens his eyes. ~Holy guacamole.~

Sings-in-Shadow remains curled into as small a ball as a ten-foot-tall Crinos can manage, his arm over his head and his muzzle tucked close to his chest.

Athena notices her surroundings enough to be very very tense, and the she sights her knife and pounces on it, scooping it up and slotting it away into its sheath before crouching back on her heels to stare at the spinning wyld energies.

The wavefront ripples gently over you all, and grass bursts through the hard-baked dust and colors paint the landscape.

Derrick looks at his hands wonderingly, then the landscape.

Sings-in-Shadow shudders as the Wyld wavefront passes over him and uncurls slightly, opening his eyes. His tail remains tucked between his legs, ears flattened.

*/That was pretty stylish/* a familiar, bemused voice says.

Athena shivers uncontrollably and then looks around.

Derrick whirls to his feet. ~Ma'am?~ he asks, looking in about 25 different directions for her.

Sings-in-Shadow looks up as well, ears cocking toward the voice.

The blonde peasant woman emerges from trees that have sprung up from nowhere and smiles. Overhead and around in the new forest, women's voices can be heard, wordless exultations.

Athena raises her shoulders warily, listening to the happiness and looking for-- what it is. What was freed.

Sings-in-Shadow pushes to his feet, slowly, his ears lifting as he gazes around, in wonder, at the change in the environment.

Derrick says, directly, ~So. Who are you, anyway?~, attention completely focused on the woman.

The woman looks thoughtful, rocking on her heels, fiddling idly with a pocket of her rough peasant dress. */I'm afraid I'll disappoint you./* she says finally.

Athena catches a glimpse of a group of golden-haired, thick-bodied women running barefoot from tree to tree in the distance.

Derrick cocks his head, slightly, and then grins. ~I like you, so, well, if you're not Owl, I can live with it, you know?~ He hastens to add, ~Not that I'd be offended at a Spirit anyway. Um. And stuff.~

Sings-in-Shadow sighs quietly. ~I somehow think we're not right for Owl anyway,~ the Fianna rumbles, sheepishly.

Athena slowly pushes herself to her feet and dips her head respectfully. ~You could not disappoint me, Lady. Who are your sisters? They are so beautiful.~

She smiles at the alpha again, a bit broader, her plain face lighting up at the compliments. */Shall I tell you a story? So that you understand what you are undertaking in becoming my children?/*

Derrick, immediately, sits down. ~Yes, please,~ he says, quite earnestly.

Sings-in-Shadow echoes Derrick, padding to his packmate's side and crouching down. ~Please.~

Athena crouches down again, deferentially slipping down into her birth form.

The woman begins: 'There was a tree. It was a tall, strong tree, healthy and full of sap and life. A boy came to it one day and said, "Tree, what shall I do? I am bored." And the tree said, "Come climb my branches." And the boy did, and he learned joy, and solitude, and about the world around him, for he could see far and near, the distant horizon and the tiny birds in the nest in the high branches.
Later the boy returned and said, "Tree, what shall I do? I have a lover, and nowhere to love." And the tree said, "Come rest in my shade." And so the boy and his lover did, and learned about each other and tenderness and pleasure.
The boy turned toward manhood, and came to the tree again. "Tree, what shall I do? My love and I have no food, and we are starving." And the tree said, "Come eat of my fruit." And they did, and they learned of hunger and satiety, dearth and plentitude.
The man returned to the tree. "Tree, what shall I do? I have a family, and no shelter from the rain and snow and cold winds." And the tree said, "Come, take my wood, build a house." And the man did, and learned of safety and home and security.
And the years passed, and the man grew old, and his family left or died, and his health failed. He returned to the tree, whose stump stood weathered and lonely. "Tree, what shall I do? I am old, and tired, and empty." And the tree said, "Come, sit on my stump, and we shall watch the sunset together."'

She pauses. "Your lives... you will always be there, for anyone, for comfort, for strength, for teaching, for protection, and there will be little gratitude. Do you see?

Sings-in-Shadow pages all: *squeal of glee*

Derrick nods faintly. ~Giving Tree. Gotcha. Figured that one out...~ He trails off. ~Awhile ago.~

Sings-in-Shadow's muzzle drops open slightly in wonder, sunke, brilliant green eyes wide and wonder-filled as he nods.

Athena looks calm. ~I was firstborn in my family. Eldest daughter. I have taught, protected, since I could remember. And I am here now. I have my pack.~

Derrick reaches out, not looking at Erik, and gives him a scritch.

The woman has grown... taller... and darker... and her feet are covered in moss. */I accept you, children, for your determination against the storms, your guardianship, your bending with the breeze. I am the Grandmother of Trees in the soul of the Fir, and you shall learn of my ways. Pass unhindered through my forests, stand staunch in your defense, even against hurricane's winds./*

Sings-in-Shadow ducks his head and pushes it against the scritch, an automatic gesture. The gangly metis shivers with a mingling of awe and worship at the spirit.

Athena sits very still, eyes glowing almost silver and face radiant.

Derrick's eyes widen. ~Wow,~ he breathes, quietly. ~Thank you, ma'am. We'll... You know. Try. I mean, not like we're perfect. But wow. Like, talk about not expectin' the result... Wow.~

The woman stretches upward into a tall fir that glimmers faintly in the moonlight. Around, among the trees, there is the sound of women singing, and the words come clearly despite the apparent distance...

I can feel the grass grow through the boots on my feet.
I can hear the Land's age in each tree that I meet.
The flowers rejoice in a dance slow as time...
There is poetry sung in a fern's sunward climb.

The Land's very heart is revealed through her trees:
In the spring, She weeps emerald; In autumn, She bleeds;
In summer, She casts back the cloak winter lays...
And grows green in the sun, through Her long summer days.

I dance through the trees as they gnarl and climb,
Take their rough hands in mine as they blossom and twine.
With the trees I find peace such as no one else knows...
As they whisper their dreams where the forest wind blows.

Oh, teach me to stand strong, but to bend with the breeze.
Teach me the patience that nurtures each leaf.
Like a tree, I'll be calm and I'll live without strife...
In the wisdom of beauty, and greenness, and life.

Limbo pages all: With the Trees, copyright 1990, Julia Ecklar.
Sings-in-Shadow pages all: Erik just blissfuls, IC and OOC.

Derrick stares at the singers, like one trying to learn something of a foreign language, and starts smiling, slowly, quietly.

Athena rises slowly to her own feet and raises her hands above her head, clasping them together, emulating a tree for a moment.

Sings-in-Shadow seems to have fallen into a state of bliss, shuddering with the ectasy of it, shivering like a leaf in a strong wind.

A last whisper follows the song: */Your packmate... is well, and will return to you soon. I have need of him elsewhere./*

Derrick's eyes tense slightly. "Just hope he comes back *sometime*," he mutters, and then gives into the singing, listening blissfully.

Derrick blinks as he stops hearing noises, and says, "Huh. Um. Huh," craning his neck about slowly.

Sings-in-Shadow remains in a trance, eyes still wide with wonder. Low, melodic growls rumble from the Fianna's throat, echoes of the songs.

The End.

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