"I know I am pure, for Falcon would not have it otherwise."

Bawn: Foothills of the Mountains(#2986RA)
The hills that rise here are roughened by the frequent rains, and rocky places show through the grasses and shrubs that grown in the clearings. Trees grow as often from shallow soil on rocky hillocks as from real loam. Occassional boulders show through like the bones of ancient creatures, covered with spreading patches of moss and lichen. The land is rough, and the weight of the ancient hills gives the place a chilling quality. The stones seem to resent intrusion.
No visible delimiter marks the eastern edge of the Bawn, only scent-marks and occasional scratches on trees. To the west, the hills become softer and the covering forest thicker, while to the east, the rocky slopes of the foothills become mountainous in truth, and the tree cover thins. I-90 to the north and the railroad to the south provide the remaining edges to this region.

Padding through thick undergrowth, up and down over ruts and bumps in the rough ground, comes a large male white wolf, nose to the ground as though following a scent. Once or twice he loses it, and has to circle round before picking it up once more. After some time trekking, he comes to a tall tree, on the trunk of which is a faint mark gouged in the bark. He regards this, sniffs the tree, and then, as though having found what he has been looking for, his head tilts up to the sky and a howl echoes through the moist autumn air. Guardians! Guardians! A visitor comes to your sept and would speak with you!

The visitor's howl almost fades into silence when an answering howl sounds, alerting the newcomer that a guardian is on her way. It takes a few minutes for her to get to the scene, but finally the gray and white Gaian appears, posture almost challenging, tail high, as she slows, looking over the Silver Fang warily.

Lightning sits on his haunches having howled, and waits patiently for some response, though with some tension in his posture. When the second wolf appears on the scene he stands up again and slowly walks in her direction. Greetings. You are a guardian of the Sept of the Hidden Walk?

The Gaian stops once she's within a few paces of him. Yes, this one is Walks-the-Middle-Road or Peacemaker, Cliath Ahroun and Elder of the Children of Gaia, member of the Guardian pack Ridgeline, and Groundskeeper of the Sept. Who are you?

The white wolf makes his introduction in turn. I am Strikes-As-Suddenly-As-Lightning-From-A-Clear-Sky. I am fostern and galliard of the Silver Fangs, and I was given directions here by Grey of the Glass Walkers. Well met, Walks-the-Middle-Road. Few garou can boast of holding so important a sept position at such a rank as yours.

An honor, replies Walks-Middle. As for my position, I do what is needed for the Sept. And I know of Grey. Are you passing through or looking to visit for a while? Maybe join us?

Lightning moves closer to Walks-Middle once formal introductions are done and gives her the traditional wolfish sniff, starting at the back, then working forward. I was sent here by Falcon, he informs her. He said that my tribe was in difficulties here and that the sept was fragmented. I am a leader, chosen by Falcon Himself as his emissary. Once I have shown my worth and paid chiminage I hope to make this sept stronger and more able to fight the fight we all must join.

Walks-Middle returns the sniff, taking in the new wolf's scent. Then I hope you will be a good leader here and heal your tribe, she offers. We could use more strong leaders and warriors. Have you been checked for taint?

Lightning indicates a negative. Please do so yourself if you know how, or else find one who can. I know I am pure, for Falcon would not have it otherwise, but I understand that I must prove myself so.

Walks-Middle flicks an ear, then chuffs agreement. I doubt that you are, but we must be cautious. I cannot sense it myself, but I know that your tribe's current elder, Blackriver, can. Among others. I will direct them to you if they do not find you first.

Lightning ducks his head to signal his own agreement. I need to find her in any case, for she is elder of my people here. Does she spend her time out in these woods? She is born of wolf and most such do not relish abiding among humans.

Walks-Middle glances back towards the woods behind her. Yes, she spends much of her time upon the bawn or on her pack's territory. She does not, like you say, care for the scab. She will not be difficult to track down.

Lightning looks beyond Stacey at the woods which form the edge of the bawn. Who else should I meet? he asks her. The sept elder is a Shadow Lord, that I know. Who are your gatekeeper and warder? What other notable and noble garou belong to the Hidden Walk?

Walks-Middle looks back to the newcomer. Reflection's-Howl is our Warder, a fostern Get of Fenris. You will need to seek his permission to come much further onto the bawn. Our Gatekeeper is Circle Keeper, Fostern and elder of the Uktena, as well as Beta of my pack. The Alpha of our pack, as well as the Master of the Challenge and Elder of the Wendigo, is Pierces-Ice-rhya.

And you are a Child of Gaia, muses Lightning. Indeed it was truly told to me that the garou here come from many different tribes. Your people are well known for maintaining the peace between other garou, but surely you must find this a hard task at a sept such as this?

Walks-Middle looks slightly amused. Yes, we have many, many tribes here. Sometimes more than there are now. Striders come and go. Once we had Red Talons and a Stargazer. It is not always a hard task, keeping peace, but always rewarding. It merely takes patience, understanding.

Lightning licks his nose thoughtfully. I have never met a Stargazer and only once, briefly, a Wendigo. The pure tribes do not come to my homeland. We have many Fianna and Get and some of the others, and of course the Bone Gnawers and Glass Walkers in the cities. Grey told me that the city is full of evil and needs to be cleansed, more than the countryside here. Would you agree? Or is his judgment clouded by his devotion to Cockroach?

Walks-Middle tilts her head at the question, mulling it over for a moment. The scab is full of evil, as the Glass Walker says. Grey has good judgment. But there are some troubles in the country as well. The Weaver ever threatens to creep further onto the land we guard, among other problems. Most of our larger foes are within the scab, though.

One who came before me fought in the city, I hear, Lightning informs Walks-Middle. They called her Fire-that-Burns-Forever. I spent some time at the sept where she was born and it was a cousin of hers who told me that she had died fighting for this sept and that more warriors of the First Tribe were needed.

Walks-Middle gives a faint whine at the mention of Fire-Burns, her posture an odd mixture between mournful and proud. Fire-Burns was my friend. I was the one who first greeted her at her arrival, and I was there at the battle when she died against the foul Black Spirals, died a hero.

Lightning's ears lie flat despite themselves at the mention of Black Spirals. You have those wicked creatures hereabouts? he asks heatedly. Or were they all driven off? Or better still, slain?

Walks-Middle shakes out her fur with a faint growl. Those who we fought, the ones who threatened our bawn, are dead, most brought down by Fire-Burns. There are concerns about more being within the scab, but we are not sure.

Lightning growls softly. I wonder whether it would serve as chiminage were I to bring back one of their heads, he enquires, his body language hovering somewhere between the jesting and the serious. Then he cocks his head as though listening to something, though there is no obvious sound, and nothing else present to make a sound. Yes, he goes on, as though answering an unspoken comment. Even if it were not my chiminage I would do it anyway as my bounden duty.

Walks-Middle perks up her ears at his comments, looking both impressed and amused. We have many good warriors in the scab who could use a strong leader to guide them. The problem there is often not willingness, but lack of firm direction, someone to drive them into good action, she advises.

Lightning makes a little grunting noise which seems to be the closest a lupus can come to a homid's chuckle of amusement. Then Falcon knew well, as He always does, when he sent me here. I lead and direct, even more than others of the First Tribe. Falcon chose me to do so, yes. This is why I wish to meet others quickly so that I may begin to marshal them. Every day I do not is a day lost to the Wyrm.

Walks-Middle seems pleased, perhaps even hopeful as she paces from one foot to another. Then, unless you have elsewhere to go, I can show you to the cub-den, where many gather. I can direct the others to find you there as well.

Is it far? enquires Lightning. For I came to the woods in my car, and would not wish to leave it unattended for longer than necessary if the cub-den lies in another direction or I cannot bring my car there.

Staceface looks vaguely surprised at the mention of a car. I can give you directions, then, and you can drive there, say that I sent you. I will make sure that my pack and the warder know of your presence.

Lightning bumps Walks-Middle lightly with his head against her shoulder in a display of pleasure and gratitude. Tell me, then, and I shall make my own way and let you return to your guardian duties.

Walks-Middle lolls out her tongue, definitely charmed by this newcomer, and then goes about giving him directions as best as she can, trying to be as clear as possible. I wish you well in your endeavor. We will speak again soon. Gaia guard your steps.

Lightning listens carefully to the instructions. Thank you, Walks-Middle, he responds at the end. Your response to my howl was swift and your welcome warm. May all our future meetings be as blessed! And with that pious hope, he turns away and retraces his steps away from the bawn and towards Wolf Woods National Park. If Stacey watches him dwindle into a white dot between the trees, she'll likely note that he does indeed seem to be making for the car park of the reservation.