Cyrano limps out of the underbrush, grass and loose dirt flying out from behind him, and onto the highway. As he hits the yellow line, he stops suddenly and looks down at it. *secret yes many secrets the world secrets*

look cyrano
A lithe coyote spirit jaggling which seems to be in constant motion, like a moth dancing about an unseen flame. His rusty blood red coat is of a nearly uniform colour, except for the lighter band near the tip of his tail.
Complementing his coat are his vivid amber eyes, examining everything within line of sight over and over.

Hope-Star cautiously pads out onto the road and nudges the coyote. Yes, and one secret is that things come and hit you if you stand in the road. Come on. Woods are better than flat spirits.

Thomas pages to Cyrano, Piddles, Hope-Star, and Therru: Please do me the kindness of assuming that this is enough later that Thomas could've gotten a cab and got himself over here.

Thomas emerges from the cab, thanks (and pays) the driver, and takes a few brisk steps toward the woods, blanket over one arm, before he notices the squirrels. He stops. He stares.

Cyrano snuffles the flat black thing. *secret many secret in the same place yes oh yes together* He lifts his head and eyes the cab.

The woods are alive this evening. A mob of squirrels scuttles, with little or no fear of predators, across the grass. A faint reddish glow lights an area just off the road.

Hope-Star immediately bursts for the woods when the large yellow vehicle pulls up. She trips and stumbles over the edge of the asphalt, falling in a small heap and staying there and as still as she can while Thomas is emerging from the cab. She hasn't noticed the glow yet, too intent on trying to keep the coyote (and veil) intact.

Quiet approaches from the northwest, traveling along the old railroad tracks.

Therru comes along the railroad tracks, appearing out of the thick forest to the east.

A line of ten grim rabbits hop along toward the light. A fox darts by, ignoring rabbits and squirrels and people, apparently in some haste. As more small life filters through a pair of thin, reedy birch trees, the reddish glow intensifies, glimmering not quite like firelight. A little too pink for firelight.

A carnival of bats swoops through the sky, aiming toward the light as well.

Therru is trotting along the railroad tracks, her head canted slightly so she can see ahead, and a mouse's tail dangling from her jaws. She checks instinctively, sensing people, then fades off the side of the tracks, her curious gaze following the animals.

Quiet pages all: WHo all comes on the scene when and why? :)

Cyrano pages all: I think I was one of the first on the scene. I'm in the middle of the road.

Hope-Star stares suspiciously from the shadows at the side of the road at the unlikely man and his blanket. She whuffs softly as the cab pulls away, eyes gleaming in the tail-lights. They widen as, in the wake of the cab, the red glow in the forest persists, and her ears twitch around wildly, but she doesn't get up immediately. Coyote! Come on, there's a man in the road.

Thomas turns his astonished gaze from the rodents to Cyrano.

Cyrano tries to peer out from under Hope's... protection. *wrongsider onlyshape here with other secrets oh my*

A half-dozen opossums emerge lazily from the weeds at the edge of the tracks. They freeze, eyes glittering, then dart with surprising speed across the road and into the undergrowth.

Quiet doesn't appear to the road, but she becomes audible in the undergrowth. Mostly not because of her own pawpaddings, but because of the troop of raccoons that she follows. The raccoons seem absolutely unbothered by the lupus trailing them, chattering among themselves as if they haven't a care in the world. Quiet looks more than slightly bewildered as she tags along.

Therru, unobstrusive in the shadows, swallows the rest of the mouse, seemingly for the purpose of letting her jaw drop open as she studies this strange gathering.

Thomas's gaze shifts, finally, from the rustling assemblage of assorted wildlife to the glow in the woods. "What the hell is that?" he murmurs softly, and bends over to pick a stray twig up off the road, snapping it idly between his fingers as he studies the inexplicable light. He makes no other move, however, as some lingering concern of startling the animals keeps him still, despite all evidence of the caution being unnecessary.

Hope-Star gives up on hiding; Cyrano stands out too much. She scrabbles wobblingly to her feet, ears splayed, as she begins backing edgily away from Thomas. Secrets, yes. Is _this_ what you were trying to show me? She gives a sudden startled bark at the man's voice, finally and belatedly recognizing him.

Therru's ear swivels around at the sound of Hope-Star's voice and she ventures a step from her hiding place.

Thomas startles violently, dropping both twig and blanket, at the sound of the bark. he takes a step back, then says cautiously, very quiet, "Eris? Is that you?"

Cyrano finds his feet and spins about in a quick circle. *the light pretty yes and the secrets all together something happens even the oneshapes know they wait and see*

Hope-Star's ears splay at the human's question, and she gives a long, sad whine in answer. Then she tosses her head, whirls, and starts trotting into the trees.

A herd of deer break from the woods, three does, two fawns, a tiny white fawn, and a twelve-point stag. They disappear between the birches.

Quiet's ears swivel, the speech of spirits carrying as meaningful yips to her ears. She flattens her ears further and moves up along the covey of raccoons. They continue chittering at each other as if sharing the latest gossip, totally unconcerned. Quiet veers away to shadow the edge of the treeline and try to see what's going on without breaking cover.

Curiosity and cowardice vie visibly, painfully in Thomas's expression and posture, and even he seems surprised when, almost against his will, the former wins. He takes a few steps toward the altered fire.

Hope-Star changes as she reaches the safe cover of the forest, calling curtly over her shoulder, "Not Eris. Sepdet. Long time no see, Rhymer. I don't know how much Mr. Cox has been teaching you, but maybe you can tell -us- what that light is." Her voice holds a slight note of challenge, but she keeps it soft, as she trudges warily after the troops of animals.

Sepdet pulls up short again, at the call, and sniffs the wind worriedly, debating for a moment before replying to the howl. Apparently (at least, to Thomas) speaking to mid-air, she says in a low voice, "Coyote said there was something odd happening in the woods. I don't know what's going on. The animals..." she trails, off, bewildered and worried, peering into the uncanny glow ahead. "I don't like this at all."

Cyrano trots off the road. *go toward the light* he entices, and yips sharply.

An owl swoops in, some small dead thing clasped in its talons. It is followed by a second, and then a third, and they all make for the trees.

The raccoons hurry after the squirrel mob and opossum troupe, passing into the light.

Quiet watches the raccoons go before finally coming out of the dark. She moves to Sepdet's side and regards Thomas with a level-eyed gaze. This one is one of my mate's?

Cyrano bounds along, first at Sepdet's side, then Quiet's, then underfoot.

Thomas peers at Sepdet's form, half obscured by leaves, then locates Quiet by the howl. Looking back at Sepdet and moving forward again, he says quietly, "It's like fire, up ahead, but altered. As though someone...had changed the color of it. Not--I don't think--anyone I'm, ah, familiar with." He glances worriedly at the animals, adjusting his glasses. "I don't know what the problem is with the animals."

Sepdet murmurs a soft, ~Kin. And yes, a mage-student, last I heard. He seems trusty.~ She moves forwardagain, cautiously. "Not a mage, eh. Great. Well, let's see." She goes quiet again, concentrating on moving her feet without stumbling or making too much noise.

Quiet relaxes a little at the word ~kin.~ She pauses to study the light, letting Sepdet move slightly ahead.

Therru eases a little closer to the wlves she knows, trailing Sepdet like a clumsy shadow.

l thomas Shock of wheat-colored hair over a deeply lined face, fair skin still holding the lingering remains of a tan, pale lashes framing incredibly sharp blue eyes. Thomas is short - perhaps 5'9" - and stocky, and looks to be in his mid forties. There is a small, pale, triangular scar under his right eye, half-hidden by the wire-rimmed glasses that he wears. He is, for the most part, relaxed, though his eyes still follow movement with a hint of their old wariness. He smiles more easily, now, but sometimes in his expression is the veiled, hunted look of one whose nightmares and memories coincide.
He is wearing worn black jeans and a light-weight blue denim shirt, the unbuttoned cuffs occasionally slipping back to reveal glimpses of scar tissue at his wrists.

Thomas stares at the skunk walking by and adds to himself, "I wish Eris would get here."

Drawing closer to the light increases the amount of sheer chatter and noise discernable. All sorts of animals seem to be having hundreds of animated conversations somewhere beyond the pair of birch trees.

Cyrano also seems to increase his kinetic activity as the group draws closer. He /tries/ not to be underfoot but just can't help it. He whines and yelps and bounces as he goes.

Quiet picks up the pace after her momentary pause. It sparkles, she says to Sepdet. Not us, or his type either. She is momentarily distracted by the coyote spirit and flattens her ears. Did the fire pull that one to this side?

Thomas says, bewilderedly, "It's as though they all have a meeting to go to or something." Then he jerks back as Cyrano darts past him. "What the--?"

Sepdet shoots a sympathetic dark glance back at the uneasy man. "It's a coyote. He follows me around sometimes, even this side." To the spirit, she gives a quick nudge with a bare foot. "_Careful_. Try to be careful?" She heads for the birches and tries to peer around and see what in the world is going on, still moving cautiously, but no longer worrying quite so much about noise.

Therru, lost in curiosity, moves into the open, her determined pace towards the strange light unconsciously echoing that of the smaller beasts.

Sepdet blinks as the scrawny wolf-shape of Therru moves into view as well. She holds up a hand as she makes for the trees.

Thomas blinks as Therru emerges. "It's a convention," he murmurs, bemused. "I forgot my badge..."

Cyrano looks quite apologetic for a moment, then lolls his tongue and dashes off again.

Therru flicks her ear back at the human voice, but does not turn to look.

Approaching the trees brings you into a full-on view of the scene. Arrayed around a fire leaping with purples and magentas and pink-reds are hundreds of forest denizens, packed, predator shoulder-to-shoulder with prey, in an auditorium of tall, thick-boled trees. Set up in a mockery of a human courtroom, the animals look down a small hillock upon a clear "floor" and a large boulder. Atop the boulder, in the shadows, is a chair, and in the chair is a shadow distinct from the other shadows, unmoving. On the open floor, several animals bustle about, bipedal and draped with colored sashes.
A multitude of birds chatter overhead, and above their din a number of crows can be heard making loud, mocking commentary. The audience on the ground seem to be waiting patiently, if a bit noisily. The scent of animals is fresh and heavy in the warm air.

Cyrano skids to a halt . *here the secrets are all together yes this is the placetime for it to happen* He crouches low, haunches high, and looks.

Quiet frankly stares.

Sepdet freezes at the level of the trees and grips one for support, swaying slightly. "Duat." Dark eyes go very wide as she peers out across the glade.

Thomas looks almost distressed in his amazement, following close behind the shifters.

Therru checks her stride only for a moment, seeming suprised but not amazed. She lopes forward, looking for a place among the assembled... audience.

A harried fox approaches at a scurry, her glittering golden sash flashing in the firelight. She rises on her rear legs, reaching for shining, silvery birchwood doors that hang inexplicably on the far side of the birches. She spots the crew in the opening. "Well," she says crossly, "come in or out, don't just stand there. Were you raised in a barn?"

Cyrano's tail twitches.

Sepdet stammers, doubtfully, after a long pause. "Is the spirit world leaking through...?" She trails off as the usually skittish Uktena waltzes right into the group, staring after her in equal amazement. At the sound of the voice she leans her forehead against the smooth bark of the birches with a weary sigh, before trailing far more warily after Therru with a desperately polite grin plastered across her face while her eyes try to make sense of what they're seeing.

Quiet's transparent lupine form does nothing to belittle the adren's unacustomed bewilderment and amazement, but she follows close to Sepdet. Her normally horizonal tail is lower than usual in her confusion.

Cyrano shoots upright and trots along, momentarily bringing up the rear of the party.

Thomas steps forward to find a place, mesmerized. Right at the threshold, he hesitates, looking at all the animals, shakes his head helplessly, and finds place to sit, rather diffident, and very careful of where he puts his feet.

The fox nods curtly as the last trail through, and closes the pair of doors behind them.

A small horde of rabbits pile atop each other to make room for the last people in.

Sepdet stands straighter. "Now, _just_ a moment," she says sharply, as the doors start to shut. She glances over at the raccoons and the coyote, understanding them best of the animals here, and back at the fox. "I ask pardon, but I also ask _what_ is going on. We look after the animals." She gazes at the not-fox with sudden challenge in her dark eyes. "Are you?"

Cyrano looks up at Sepdet, eyes sparkling, but for once says nothing.

The fox looks Sepdet over coolly. "The Tribunal is about to start," she says, not exactly in response, drops to all fours and trots toward the front.

Thomas's mouth forms the word 'tribunal' silently.

Sepdet's hackles might well be raised if she weren't in a twolegged shape, but after a dubious moment she backs up to the birches and leans against them, folding her arms. She does not sit. "You knew this was going to happen, didn't you?" she mutters accusingly at Cyrano.

Cyrano binks innocently and lolls his tongue.

Down at the front, a silvery grizzly makes its casual, yet somehow stately way to the very center. It rears up on its hind legs, a motion much like a crane levering a load of stone skyward. A noise like someone scratching a needle across a record sounds around the room. Only after the animals begin to fall silent, with the crows the last to cease their sharp laughter, is it clear that the sound was the bear clearing its throat.

Therru glances over her shoulder at Sepdet, her expression a mix of mild suprise and reproach.

Sepdet rolls her eyes and turns her attention warily towards the rock and the fox, after a quick scan to make sure she knows where Quiet, Therru, and the poor mystified human are sitting.

When the echoes in the cathedral-high room finally die off, the bear steeples its claws in front of its chest. In a booming voice of purest gravel, the bear says, "Welcome to the Tribunal. I know that all of you are looking forward to this evenings' judgments. Please know that the Lady and all of our staff have enjoyed the feast of welcome we received here, and look forward to enjoying the area's hospitality until our moon is done."

Polite applause, in the form of squawks, chortles, and a few assorted stompings sound.

Cyrano stands still, fairly quivering with contained energy.

Thomas glances at Therru out of the corner of his eye, like an uncertain dinner-guest trying to figure out which fork to use.

Therru thumps her tail politely on the ground.

Thomas sinks back in on himself a little. He doesn't have that fork.

Quiet pages all: LOL.
From afar, to Thomas, Quiet, Cyrano, PiddlesGM, and Sepdet, Therru grins gleefully.
Quiet's head turns a quarter-turn, cocking as the animals make their applause. Her eyes are shadow-dark and sharp on the tableau at the center. She's controlled most of her body langauge into a tense neutrality, though the quirk darting twitching of her ears easily gives away her uncertainty.

A muffled whisper from "offstage" catches the bear's attention. It looks over, its ears twitch and perk, and it turns back to the audience, fairly clapping its paws together. "And it seems the Lady has chosen to give the role of judgment to some surprise guests this evening!" One paw extends to the group nearest the door. "Please welcome some very special people! A group of the local Garou has chosen to grace us with their presence!" Hoots, howls, and much stomping accompanies the rather surprising pink spotlights that shoot out of the fire to pinpoint Sepdet, Thomas, Therru, and Quiet in full view of all the hundreds of turned heads.

Sepdet has assumed all the patience of a Strider that she can muster, holding her post as diligently as a guardian statue at a stone gate. She nods bemusedly, but glares daggers at Cyrano as if this were all somehow his fault. "Evening," she says very drily.

Cyrano yelps along and looks quite pleased.

Quiet's ears flatten, the pink spotlight turning her yellow fur a disturbing color of orange.

From afar, Quiet sets her doing. :)

WHO Quiet
Player Name On For Idle Doing
Quiet 02:19 2m Help, I'm trapped on a game show!
34 Players logged in.

Therru's ear splays sideways, and she ducks her head, looking like a very gawky and unwilling audience draftee-- er, volunteer.

Impaled on the pink spotlight, Thomas does his inadequate best to appear inconsequential.

After a moment, the spotlights flicker off, leaving only the ambient pinkness behind. The bear seems... to be smiling. Or at least amused. At any rate, it clears its throat again, which effectively kills the trailing applause, and says, "Without further ado, we'll bring on the first of the three representative cases this evening." It ambles somewhat awkwardly off to the side.

A slender, wraithlike grey roof rat, hung with a red sash, approaches the Evening's Special Guests. "Would you care to extend your judgments from here, your honors, or would you care to move down to the floor?"

Quiet looks about her, then shakes her fur out. With dignity, she moves forward to follow the rat down to the floor.

Therru, evidently deciding that there is safety in numbers, scoots back towards Sepdet and Quiet, looking at the rat with complete bewilderment and no hunger at all.

Sepdet sets her hands against the wood again--trees,being quiet, make more sense right now. Then she relinquishes her prop and picks her way after Quiet, as Therru joins ranks with them. The Strider also takes great, great care not to stumble and fall on anyone tonight. "Um," she says, looking over at Thomas.

Sepdet gives Thomas a doubtful smile: care to join us?"

Cyrano hops back and forth on stiff forelegs, but keeping quiet somehow.

Thomas rakes a hand through his hair and gives Sepdet a feeble, helpless, meaningless smile as he rises to join the assorted garou. "I'm not--" he mutters abortively, then breaks off, as he realizes that what he is not is painfully apparent to all, and apparently not an issue.

A very young coyote nudges Cyrano. "Ooooh, you brought 'em? Points for you!" An older coyote cuffs the youth and nods to the excited spirit.

The rat turns, suffused with the glow of the honor of leading the judges, and ceremoniously leads the group to a bare patch of ground to the left of the Floor. From this angle, the shadow in the chair still seems genderless and featureless.

Sepdet has, luckily, a lot of practice peering at things out of the corners of her eyes without actually looking like she's staring. She keeps stealing glances at the chair as she takes her place between Quiet and Thomas, unfolding her arms and hooking her thumbs in her belt. She tips her head up at the shadow attentatively.

A pair of young pumas drag a wriggling burlap sack onto the floor. They bite through the hemp rope binding it, then upend it. A middle-aged human male tumbles head over heels out of it, wearing a pair of thin, worn boxer shorts and a undershirt stained with something brown. His bald pate glimmers sweatily in the bizarre firelight, and he scrambles to his bare feet. He looks around, wild-eyed, as the animals begin to growl and hiss at his appearance. The watery blue eyes fix on Thomas and Sepdet, the only visible humans. "What the hell is going on?" he cries, making for the pair. "Help me! This is a dream, right? A crazy dream?" He halts when he realizes that they are among wolves, his eyes, if possible, going wider.

Sepdets breath catches for a moment at the sight of the human before she nods up and down, her not-quite-human face probably less than reassuring, as she flashes teeth in bright smile. "That's right. A dream. Isn't that life all over?"

Therru flicks her ear sideways and tries to press against Sepdet's leg, squeezing in beside Quiet.

Thomas leans back ever-so-slightly at the man's desperate approach, unconsciously leaning toward the animals, away from the human. At Sepdet's words, his eyes flicker over to the Strider, then back to the balding man, but he doesn't speak.

Quiet's ears swivel forward.

An owl announces hollowly, "Name: Vincent Brown. Occupation: farmer. Accused of shooting five wolves and one cougar on sight, leaving one maimed and the others dead. Of random violence against his domestic animals, including drowning one litter of kittens and killing the puppies of five separate litters by thrashing them against a barn wall. Of poisoning raptors."

The white fawn who ran by earlier stands nervously to one side, obviously taking an important position for the first time in its young life, and says, voice slightly quavering, to the judges, "You may question him and render judgment at such time as you deem it appropriate. Guilty or not."

Thomas actually flinches, just a little, at this litany of offenses, and whatever spark of pity might have been in his eyes is gone, now, but he still doesn't speak.

Therru steps slightly away from the others, assuming, perhaps wrongly, that she will need a human voice to speak to a human.

Therru shifts into Homid form.

If the younger Uktena is wrong, then her elders make the same mistake. Quiet blurs the same time that Therru does, shifting upward into a half-crouch before she stands.

Quiet shifts into Homid form.

Vincent Brown falls to his knees and gabbles nonsensically at the sight of these animals becoming human.

Therru looks at her elders, obviously waiting for them to speak first.

Sepdet eyes the man quietly, watching his response before she frames any questions of her own. She passes Quiet a worried look as the woman stands up next to her, and quietly reaches for the woman's arm to brace herself. "Aiya," she says. "I don't suppose my singing would calm him down in the least."

l therru
Therru usually stands with the right side of her face turned from anyone that might see it, with her long brown hair falling over her shoulders like a shadow to hide in. All the same, the first thing you see are the scars. The right half of her face vanishes into a mass of burn scars, mottled red and white, which run down across her neck. Her right eye is gone. Her remaining eye is brown, as is her skin, and the left half of her face is blunt and square-jawed, not particularly attractive. She is of mixed blood but looks mostly caucaisian,about five feet, four inches tall and in her late teens, her once bony body starting to fill out into its promise of wiry strength.
At present, she is dressed in filthy jeans that are a little too tight on her and considerably worn at the knees, and a long-sleeved white man's shirt, lightly dabbled with rust-colored spots and dust. She is barefoot. Her body language is very understated and when she speaks, which is not often, her voice is harsh, almost cawing.

Andrea shakes her head a little at Sepdet, her eyes going to Thomas before returning to Vincent. "I doubt it." Her voice has the air of someone used to being listend to. "Mr. Brown, control yourself, unless you wish to be judged without defense."

Vincent Brown whimpers, but calms down enough to toss a quick look upward at the judges.

Therru says in a low and harsh voice to Quiet and Sepdet, "Did he hear and understand the charge?"

Andrea changes her attention to Therru and frowns a little. She nods toward the man. "Ask him."

Therru ducks her gaze from Andrea, but not before she glances pleadingly at Sepdet and, desperate, also at Thomas.

Sepdet cocks her head at the human, a gesture that would be rather cute on a human girl her age, and purses her lips. "I doubt it," she echoes Quiet under her breath. Then, canting her voice to its most soothing (although there is a rough curious edge to it that isn't just from her rusty English), "Mr. Brown. You're accused of slaying wolves, Cougar, and winged-hunters without provo-prov--provocation," she stumbles a bit on the difficult word, "and murdering animals from your own farm. How do you answer these charges?"

Thomas looks behind Sepdet to try to catch Andrea's eye, mouthing, 'Does this happen often?'

Andrea shakes her head slightly at Thomas, her lips twisting in the slightest of wry smiles before she sobers again.

Vincent Brown blinks at Therru, then Quiet, then Sepdet, turns pleading eyes to Thomas, then looks back to Sepdet. "What the hell?? It's my farm! This is some kind of crazy dream, it's gotta be." He looks down at himself. "Whatthehell??" he exclaims as he, apparently, realizes for the first time that he's here in his skivvies. "It's a dream. It's a dream. A dream. Yeah. Mildred, wake me the hell up..."

Thomas says flatly, "You're awake. And in trouble."

Sepdet's face crimps up into a scowl at the man's response, and her voice is far less soothing when she speaks again. "So. You were on your own farm. So you are saying that you can drown puppies, shoot animals, or strangle children, as long as it takes place on your own property?"

Cyrano pages: Oooo.

The man blinks slowly at Thomas, then runs a hand through his hair (singular). He gets to his feet slowly and walks toward Thomas. He stops a few feet in front of Thomas and cants his body to exclude the others. In a low voice, he says, "Look, man, you're obviously the one with sense here. All this craziness. They must've drugged me with that LDS or something. Just get me out of here and home. I've got a mess of money. The hallucinations, the crazy little girls, the whole thing, if you can just get me home safe, yeah, I'll make it worth your while." He nods knowingly, toning his voice to that 'you're a man, you understand' sound.

Therru's voice, as coarse and cawing as those of the crows, but with no such laughter, echoes softly across the auditorium. "/Your/ farm. /Your/ dogs. /Your/ kittens. /Your/ wolves. /Your/ cougar. /Your/ wife. /Your/ children."

Andrea's eyes go colder, the man's words digging him into his own grave.

Sepdet looks sideways at Quiet. "And here I was thinking we should try to go easy on the poor stupid Man. That tonight might well scare him badly enough to make him change habits," she says grimly, last traces of sympathy rapidly evaporating.

Thomas looks from the man to Therru and back again, disgust drawn clear in every line of his body. "You," he says coldly, "Are exactly where you see yourself. But I don't want you to think you don't have options. I'm sure you could choose between being shot, or poisoned, or beaten against a wall. You might even be able to offer some other kind of satisfaction, but the more you talk, the less I believe it."

Vince backs away, his obvious last shot spent. He eyes them all shrewdly. "You're just saying that it's real. It's not. It can't be. This is all too crazy." He shakes his head. He explodes toward Therru, taking two steps toward her, fist up and threatening. "*MY* fucking farm. I do whatever I want there, you're right, you little bitch!" He rounds on Sepdet. "You'd shoot 'em too, bastards getting into your sheep, goddamn dogs fucking around like that goddamn whore I married. Mewling goddamn squirmy things, makin' noise so I can't sleep at night!" He backs up, eyes still narrowed, this time with rage. "Who're *you* to judge what I do, you pansy ass sonuvabitch and your buncha witch-sluts? I bet you done some real pretty things in *your* life, every one o' you. An' you done it cause you *had* to or you'd go crazy, right?"

Therru takes one glance around to catch the eyes of as many as she can, ignoring the defendant. She jerks her head upward in an unconscious reversion to wolf-speech, miming the sharp, spine-cracking snap given to a prey animal. Then she sits down, her judgement given.

Thomas's voice lashes out, suddenly vehement. "Listen to me, you arrogant, murdering, delluded bastard. You're being given something half the world can only dream of. You're seeing magic, don't you understand that? You're witnessing something on the order of a miracle. You don't deserve it. The worst thing that could happen to you is for you to go right on the way you've been, but that's too high a price for the rest of the world to pay, just to punish you."

Thomas pulls his glasses off and puts one hand over his eyes.

Sepdet's eyes widen a little at Thomas' vehemence, although he voices some of her own sentiments. She folds her arms again. "Humans," she says flatly, "do those things." Then she takes a step away from Quiet, dark eyes cold and inhuman, small brown form in dirty clothes looking up at him in distaste. "Well then, man. You were not being deprived of food nor comfort--else you would not have this money you boast of. So you were not defending your family from starvation. You were simply killing for the joy of it. Whereas these animals here will kill you, not for the joy of it--that is something humans do--but merely to defend themselves, and _their_ families."

Andrea meets the frothing human's gaze steadily. Her voice is less angry than sad, but firm nevertheless. "You could have saved yourself. If you had spoken of the need to kill to save others or to feed yourself, we would have understood." Her gesture takes in the animals watching with their pupilless black eyes and the three Garou, stopping just short of Thomas. "We have killed, yes. To eat, to defend ourselves, to defend others. We three," she again indicates the Garou, "have killed even more than that, in a war to save that you destroy so carelessly. But you." Her hand now rotates so that she's pointing at the man. "You have killed because things inconvinenced you, because you did not see those you killed as living beings with as much right to life as you had. Humans call one that treats humans like that a sociopath and locks him away from doing such again."

Vince's eyes show their bloodshot whites all around the small, darker centers. His crimson face pales, reddens, and pales again, and he backs away until he senses the glares of his captors at the far side of the Floor. He stands, pale, fists clenched, in a somewhat flat-footed defensive posture.

The fawn says, "You have all made judgment then?"

Therru nods from where she sits cross-legged on the floor.

Sepdet nods curtly and steps back to her place, face sagging with a trace of sadness but not pity.

Thomas stands with one hand over his face, his shoulders hunched, his head bowed, but he does not disagree.

Andrea turns with a nod to the fawn. "He should die, cleanly. The life-cycle will carry him back to suffer as he has made others, without torture at our hands."

The pumas move like lightning, catching Vince and flinging him onto his back. They bind and gag him. The fawn says, "The sentence will be carried out after the other judgments are rendered."

A quartet of coy-dogs roll a violently squirming bundle of blanket onto the Floor. They each grip an end in their teeth and run in different directions, miraculously exposing a pair of humans. One is a chubby boy, about twelve years old. His dark hair is long and tousled, his jeans and t-shirt are rumpled and stylishly torn. He has a fingerless glove on one hand. The other is an elderly woman. She looks bewildered and startled, her housecoat clutched around her and one hand absently checking her curlers.

Thomas takes a moment to realize something new is happening, then looks up, startled and disturbed as he hooks his glasses back over his ears to see the new defendents.

The owl intones, "Name: Nora Caracchi. Occupation: none. Accused of confining over one hundred cats in small, uncleaned cages, neglecting them, and starving them." Then, a little more harshly, "Name: Jared Oliver. Occupation: delinquent. Accused of shooting birds from trees with an airgun and leaving them maimed or in pain. Of trapping small animals and locking them in freezers and microwave ovens. Of breaking the back of a dog. Of dousing a cat in gasoline and setting it afire."

Therru flinches at the last charge.

Nora Caracchi pats at a stray blue-white lock of hair, attempts to straighten her housecoat, pulls her awkwardly splayed legs together -- not trying to get up from the floor -- and says, "Oh, dear."

Therru slowsly rises to her feet, staying behind Sepdet and Andrea.

Sepdet's face twitches at the descriptions, although again, she holds a trace of sympathy in her dark eyes for the humans suddenly ripped out of their world. Without emotion, she asks simply and softly, "You hear the charges, Nora and Jared. Are these things true?" She looks searchingly from one to the other face, her own very tired now.

Jared Oliver picks himself up and dusts his jeans, looking around him. He frowns, very nearly pouting.

Thomas's face is gray and drawn, and he willingly lets Sepdet do the talking.

The elderly woman eyes her veined legs for a moment before sighing. One blue slipper dangles from her toes. "I, uh, oh, dear," she looks up at Sepdet and squints. "I'm sorry, dear, what did you say? I'm afraid my hearing aid is a bit off." She adjusts something at her ear and taps the side of her head, testing. She receives a squeal from the small device and she nods then.

The kid scowls at Sepdet and the others, crosses his arms and stands hipshot, regarding them with as much attitude as he can muster. "Ain't gotta say nothin' to you an' yer friends in the funny suits. Want a lawyer."

A coyote near Cyrano nudges the spirit. "Betcha can't nip the comb outta his pocket!" indicating the edge of a piece of colorful plastic in Jared's back pocket.

Cyrano eyes the other coyote with disdain, as if he'd never think of such a thing. But after a moment he disappears.

Sepdet bares her teeth in something which is not a smile. "You are charged, woman, with locking animals in small cages and letting them starve to death in their own shit. Please defend yourself." To the boy, she says sharply, "You are not getting one. The animals you killed did not."

Therru walks out from between Sepdet and Andrea, holding her face (unnaturally for her) looking directly ahead. She approaches Jared silently, easily, her body language suddenly, inexplicably, that of the dominant wolf.

Nora repeats, "Oh, dear." She adjusts her hairnet. "I... I... well... I always took in animals, you know. And when my husband passed on I couldn't keep the... the... the... car. So I had to move. It was so small. But it was... was...," her voice drifts off. "The kitties, they were hungry and it was cold, summer, you know. And the apples were humming. So I took them in, but some, you know, that word. So I got little towns for them and they were so happy."

Jared glares steadily at Therru. "Whatchu lookin' at, Scarface?"

Therru walks closer, until she is much closer than she would ever normally get to a stranger. She turns her head to look with her good eye, staring impersonally into the boy's gaze, then, in an eerie parody, turns her blind side towards his face. Still with that strange detatched authority, she turns her head to look from the good side again.

Sepdet sets her jaw and locks eyes on the old woman's face, fixing her with that unnervingly intense, frank stare that makes cubs shudder and wolves raise hackles. "Were they happy? Or did they starve and die?"

Thomas whispers something, almost inaudibly.

Thomas whispers "I am not a Euthanatos."

Andrea listens for now, impassively.

The kid meets Therru's gaze as long as he has an eye to meet, at which point he sighs with theatrical exasperation and looks away, toward Sepdet. "I didn't do it," he says, a touch sullenly. "I wouldn't hurt an animal." Jared reaches for his comb, as if by habit, still carefully looking away from Therru. When it's not there he curses and looks at the ground.

Cyrano ducks behind a nutria casually.

Sepdet is busy trying to milk the truth out of the possibly mad (or possibly lying through her teeth) old woman, holding her gaze like a twelve-year-old holding a magnifying glass over an anthill. Her expression is not yet hostile, merely inscrutable.

Therru turns away. "He's lying," she says in her cawing voice. And that seems to satisfy her, for she walks back to the others without another glance.

The old woman fidgets with the hem of her housecoat, her hands fluttering as much as her mind. "Well, I fed them all the time, you know, they had nice cream and, you know, food. I got this terrible pain in my leg though," she rubs at her left leg idly, "I went to the doctor for it, you know, the pain, they said it was probably a clot or something, but I'm sure the police will take care of it. I couldn't go home though because there was yellow ribbon around my house and they wanted to take all the kitties away."

Jared spins after Therru. "How do *you* know? You don't know anything at all!" He flings his hands in their direction. "None of you know anything. You're *old* farts."

Sepdet reaches out a hand for the woman's shoulder to clench it, words falling urgent and hard like small slaps. "Look at me. Listen. You did kill them. Many, many of them. And they were not happy. They died, miserable and hungry and afraid, during those weeks and months when the pain in your leg made you forget them. You forgot them, and they _died_. This is what you were doing."

Andrea's face tightens but she continues to just listen.

Therru turns her attention to Sepdet and the woman in the housecoat, stillness descending over her body as she discards authority again.

Nora's face looks blank as she meets Sepdet's gaze, but as the words fall, her face screws up miserably. "No!" she cries, "I'd never forget my kitties! Never never never!" Tears trickle from the corners of her eyes. "They were my life! I couldn't! I didn't! I didn't mean it...!" she wails at last, drawing up her legs painfully and curling into a weeping ball.

Jared nonchalantly looks around for an exit while everyone is focused on the old woman.

Sepdet pats the human's shoulder once, sighs, and steps away, glancing back up at the other Garou and Thomas. "Guilty," she suggests quietly. "But also ill. She loves animals, but she is mad. Her heart will punish her, if only she can be kept from doing more harm." Then she turns towards Jared, brow furrowing.

The kid takes a slow step in the direction of the door. As his foot sets down, he winces and rocks back onto the other foot. He dances from foot to foot for a moment, wincing and looking somewhat pained.

Thomas looks vaguely in Jared's direction.

Andrea says quietly, "I get the impression that she is being kept in the homes for humans and other humans are making sure that she has no responsibility for other lives any longer."

Nora rocks a little, moaning.

Therru nods at Sepdet, her face quite still.

Thomas seems to take a moment to catch Andrea's response, but when he does, he flinches slightly, and looks neither at her nor Nora.

Sepdet nods quietly, attention now focussed on the child. "You are not much younger than me, Jared," she notes thoughtfully. "And I have killed too, but I do not gladly kill things weaker than me. That is a coward's deed."

From afar, Thomas takes offense on the part of cowards everywhere... :)

Andrea leaves the punk to Sepdet for the moment and goes in to kneel by Nora. "Is that true, Nora? Are you being kept in a home now, where they don't let you keep kitties?"

Thomas turns to look at the white fawn. "What happens to them?" he asks. "When we say 'guilty,' what happens?" He doesn't want the answer and he's afraid he already knows it, but he asks anyhow.

Nora sniffles and looks up at Andrea. "No kitties, no kitties," she says sorrowfully. "They say I don't do it right anymore."

Long distance to Thomas: Sepdet chuckles.

Jared attempts to look cool, while still shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Yeah, right, sure. *I* put a guy in the hospital once. I punched him in his Adam's apple and he needed seventeen stitches. Yeah, right, you've killed people."

The fawn looks from Thomas, to the audience -- significantly -- and back to Thomas.

Therru looks indignantly at Sepdet. "What... You should not compare yourself with that. You have never tortured." Her grating voice is even less understandable than usual in her outrage.

Thomas drops his eyes, inutterably tired.

Sepdet shrugs out of her vest, casually baring the scars that almost killed her a month ago, so that her forearms are more scar than skin. "When I must. And I have been tortured by things which could snap your head off in one bite. For every bully, there is a cure." She looks at him closely. "So. I do not kill those weaker than me gladly, as I said. Do you have any way to defend yourself, besides lying?"

Andrea pats the woman's shoulder. Her voice is low as she rises, but she is obviously speaking to the fawn. "Killing this one will not save more lives. She suffers now, and has few enough years left. I would ask for mercy." Her voice goes dispassionate. "Even those that would cry against the cages can see that she is now in such a cage herself."

Jared eyes Sepdet's scars, condescension lighting his gaze. He shifts slowly from foot to foot though, his confidence and attitude dribbling away in a steady stream. "What is this anyway, the Scar Brigade?" seems to be his only proffered defense.

The animals nearest Andrea shuffle and most of them finally make soft noises of agreement.

Therru looks at Andrea, her body-posture indicating agreement.

Sepdet makes a move toward him with both hands, casual, quick, but does not touch him: a snake that chooses not to strike. "Look around you. This is real. These are real. They judge you for what you have done. They say you have tortured, maimed, and hurt many of their kind, for sport. Tell them why they should not wish to do the same to you, with more reason."

Jared makes a face of disgust at Sepdet. "Because they're just dumb fucking animals. I dunno who put you up to this shit, but he's gonna pay."

Thomas pushes his glasses up, fixing Jared with a brief look. Then he turns away, sickened, weary with horror. "He's not going to change. God /damn/ it."

Therru addresses Sepdet, although her voice seems to be directed to all. "His eyes are as the man who scarred me. If he is not stopped, he will continue."

The fawn blinks huge blue eyes. "Have you made judgment then?"

Andrea says quietly, "He is as a son of the first man, at heart. My judgement for the first holds true for the second."

Sepdet's shoulders slump at their words. "They are not dumb; they have brought you here to answer for your deeds. And you have given no answer." Deliberately, she steps back, and changes to a wolf before joining her friends. Yes. I am sorry; he is very young to be so tainted.

Sepdet shifts into Hispo form.

Therru shifts into Lupus form.

Andrea shifts into Lupus form.

Hope-Star dips her eyes tiredly at the faun, indicating that her judgement holds with the other three.

Therru turns her back on the boy, her posture that of one who abandons the corpse of something unfit to eat.

Quiet pages all: Quiet's brain starts bothering her about Veil. I don't suppose the fae make them forget? :)

Thomas nods without looking up, his teeth gritted in frustration and helpless anger.

The bear steps forward and scoops Vince up with one paw. One of the pumas slashes Vince's bonds, not coincidentally carving lines in his flesh. With the other paw, the bear hoists Jared by the back of his shirt. The creature booms, "The Tribunal has spoken!" and casts the pair into the audience. The mass of bodies parts, then crashes in over top of the pair. The screams don't last for long amidst the tearing, snarling, hissing, and howling.

Nora rocks.

Therru pages all : Therru does not think these are fae, not in the usual sense.

Hope-Star pages all: I don't think anyone is going to believe poor Nora. And I knew Jared was dead, when shifted. :/

Eyes closed, Thomas shivers uncontrollably until long after the noises have ended.

Hope-Star pads over to Thomas and leans against him silently while the grisly work is being carried out.

Quiet pages all: Er, whatever they are, then. :} Just worried about Nora, but I know Septdet's probably right, practically speaking.

Quiet stands and watches, mood grim.

Cyrano trots to the front of the house, muzzle smeared with gore, and sets on his haunches.

Therru does not watch, but can hear. She sits alone, staring at the wall.

Thomas's hand lowers to rest gingerly on Hope-Star's shoulder as though touching a memory.

The bear turns to the judges after a few moments of watching the work. "The Lady thanks you for your services here this evening, friends. We are in your debt, and it will be remembered. We will return the woman to her place of living safely."

Quiet dips her muzzle, shallowly.

Cyrano cocks his head. *wrongsiders good surprises all in one place yes?*

Hope-Star dips her eyes grimly at the bear and does not reply. She licks Thomas' hand once. I think I need to get this human back to his den; violence makes him hurt. May we wish you well, Gaia's children, and depart?

The fox passes silently past the edges of the fading, bloody melee, and opens the doors.

The bear dips its head and he gestures toward the exit. The shadow on the chair moves at last, making a graceful motion of farewell, letting a dark-furred, slender, cat-like paw flicker into the light.

Thomas pages all: Indeed, indeed. Thomas goes home, shivering and cursing all the way. Somewhere in the middle of which he probably realizes that, in fact, he cannot possibly have had a date to meet Eris, since Eris is gone, which, as Therru's player says, will just make his evening perfect. :)

Quiet gives Nora one last nosebump before she turns away. She indicates an affirmative to Sepdet, then says she will go to her city den tomorrow, if she is needed. Still sober, the Child of Gaia leaves the area to head back to the island and her pack.

Epilogue:

Fri Nov 7 Obituary

ST. CLAIRE, WA - Nora Caracchi, the "St. Claire Cat Lady," has passed away at the age of 86. One of the co-founders of the local Humane Society in her youth, Mrs. Caracchi received numerous awards for her efforts on the behalf of animal welfare in the area over the years. Her fame turned to notoriety six years ago, however, when local health inspectors discovered her house packed full of 107 cats living in inhumane conditions during one of her illnesses.

Diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease at that time, Mrs. Caracchi resided at the Methodist Home until her death. Her extensive collection of stuffed animals will be donated, per her request, to local hospitals and their childrens' wards.

Mrs. Caracchi is survived by a daughter, Leah, and a nephew. The family asks that in lieu of flowers, donations be made to the Humane Society. Viewing and funeral are private.

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