I do not ask you to lie. I know that falsehoods come hard to those born of wolf.

At the Rock Outcropping
The rocky wall of the caern flattens out here, a more stable and solid area than around the steam vents or even the caern's center. A small outcropping juts out slightly over the caern, forming a natural dais from which to address the gathered. The stone bears chips and faint stains from past abuses that can't quite be rectified. Scrub grass and mosses eke out an frail existence on this otherwise inhospitable terrain.
The forest surrounding the caern's border is far less dense than the rest of the nearby forest. Scattered, centuries-old oaks stand majestically over their fallen, decaying, moss-covered comrades. This peculiarity seems to surround only the area just outside the caern.
The caern circles away from the walls east, towards the swirling area, and south, towards the steam vents; the center is southeast of here. A dangerously slippery, muddy trail winds up towards the rim of the caern from here. One false step could result in tragedy.

Blackriver sits on the rocky outcropping in the caern, curled with her tail tip covering her nose. She's half-asleep by the looks of it, breath rising and falling rythmatically, eyes fluttering open and shut.

Muttering to himself under his breath, Cedric comes walking slowly through the caern, his feet seeming to carry him fairly aimlessly. His breath forms little clouds of condensation in the cold air, which is barely heated at all by the pale winter sun, and maybe it's this which tips him off that there's someone else present -- Blackriver's breath too is forming little puffs of steam as she rests there. "Why, it's you," Cedric remarks quietly as he regains focus and looks to see whose breath it is that's releasing the telltale condensation into the air.

Blackriver's ears twitch and the lupus slowly lifts up her head and turns towards Cedric's call. Her tail thumps lethargically against the ground, and she pulls herself to her feet, stretches, and waddles over towards the Galliard, tail angled down and ears docked in submission.

Cedric squats down to bring himself to Blackriver's level. "Easy does it," he remarks. "No need to... oh, damn. I keep forgettin'." He slips out of his heavy overcoat, folds it quickly and puts it on the rock, then melts down to lupus himself. Now we can understand each other. What is the matter?

Blackriver's ears twitch in confusion, and she cocks her head to the side. She sniffs lazy at the fostern, and replies that she doesn't know what the matter is.

You defer to me, Lightning explains, pointing out the obvious. You not only defer, you do so blatantly. You almost roll over.

Blackriver blinks again. You are Fostern. She points out, keeping up with the 'obvious' theme. I am Cliath. So I submit. She sniffs again in Lightning's direction.

Lightning shakes his head in thought. But even as he thinks his tail ratchets up and so do his ears. I am greatest in station, he agrees. So I shall lead the tribe, just as the tribe leads the other tribes? And you will be my beta?

Blackriver wags her tail in agreement, and then tilts her head to the other side. It's almost time for Promises-Kept to come tell me what he's done. She brings up, demeanor changing to a more pensive, unsure posture.

Lightning chuffs angrily at the mention of that name. I can tell you what the flailing-fool has done, he informs her with demeanor almost as icy as the recent Washington weather. He has nearly killed me and himself and a third garou, he has nearly created a Weaver focus in the town nearby. He has no more sense than the pup that was born yesterday and I shall knock some into him if he does not get himself killed before I can.

Blackriver's ears twitch in agreement, but she remains fairly calm. I told him I would speak for him if he did five things to prove he was worthy. I keep my promises. But, you are elder, and if you do not wish him here then he cannot stay. She seems rather relieved to have that resolved.

Lightning rubs his head against the back of the former alpha's neck. I will not countermand your decision. It would not look good to the sept. And besides it was a good and wise decision from a good and wise philodox. If he does these five things, then so far as I am concerned he may stay. Though the sept elder may require to be convinced. And I shall keep a sharp eye and a keen nose out for him in any case.

Blackriver lets herself get rubbed, leaning back and putting a bit of pressure against Lightning as he does so. Culls-rhya said she would kill him is she saw him. She points out gravely.

Lightning growls faintly. Did she really? he enquires. It's hard to ask a rhetorical question in lupus, but that's the effect of his response. She had better not try. He may be a flailing fool, but he is our flailing fool, and if she kills him he will never learn better. My first command to you, Blackriver, as your alpha, is to refrain from letting Culls-Herd-rhya know that he is still among us. Then if we decide to send him away, she will never know that he remained. And if we decide to keep him we can then argue with her if we know we shall need to.

Blackriver looks confused for a moment and replies that yes, she really did say she'd kill Mathias if she saw her. At Lightning's command the lupus looks a bit uneasy, obviously not too comfortable with deceiving the alpha. I won't tell Culls-rhya, she already knows Promises didn't leave. But if she asks me I will tell her he is still here. She is alpha, she is Adren. And we have to tell her about the Weaver-spirits, they are the problem of the sept. She points out cautiously.

I do not ask you to lie, Lightning clarifies. I know that falsehoods come hard to those born of wolf. I ask you only not to tell her, unasked, of his presence. As for the weaver spirits, when Luna regains her size and strength, I shall return, yes, I shall go back to their place with others and cleanse it. You must come with me, he adds.

Blackriver relaxes at the Fostern's clarification, and chuffs an eager agreement to his last proclamation. Should I bring my pack? She asks eagerly. Cycle-Breaker knows the rite for cleansing.

Yes, yes, yes, Lightning confirms. Bring many, bring all. The flailing-fool himself will be there to help and so will the Black Fury who nearly died trying to save me and him from his folly. Others too. We shall pull the legs off the Weaver-spiders and show the Weaver that just because we fight Wyrm, does not mean we cannot fight Weaver too when Weaver does wrong.

Blackriver's tail waves eagerly in the air. Yes! She agrees, energy building at the thought of the fight. Protecting Gaia means fight the Weaver too.

Lightning gives a half-bark of approval. We shall fight! he proclaims. And we shall triumph. We are the Silver Fangs! Greatest of garou, leaders, legends, conquerors! By now, he's making enough noise for anyone else in the caern to hear him.

Blackriver joins in the noise making, sending up loud yips and barks of excitement that don't form into any words. After a few moments of this, she become quiet again, and with dead seriousness asks if Lightning-rhya is being challenged by anyone for Fostern at the moment.

Lightning lets out a few yips of his own that serve only to express pleasurable anticipation of the forthcoming fight and his high regard for his tribe and himself. He calms down enough when Blackriver asks him this question to respond in the negative.

Blackriver swishes her tail once, back and forth, and lets out soft yip of excitement. I lead this tribe until you came here. I lead a pack now. I've killed Wyrm creatures and acted as judge. So I challenge you for Fostern. With that she settles back onto her haunches and curls her tail around to fluff over her front paws.

Lightning lets out a little noise which serves as the lupine equivalent for a frown. Wait, wait, he bids the other Silver Fang. I have not been challenged yet, but one other has told me that he wishes to challenge me and will announce his challenge at the next moot. In fact he is your packmate, the Get known as Bloods-Bane.

Blackriver's posture changes into a big droop. Oh. She offers rather awkwardly, just kind of standing there, looking somewhat deflated. He isn't even alpha. She grumbles after a few moments, He challenged and he lost.

Lightning sits down abruptly and scratches his face with one paw in a pensive way. I do not pretend to tell Wildfire how to run its affairs, he muses. It seems to me that both of you are good young garou and both would have a fair chance of winning a fostern challenge. But I can only challenge one at a time. Before full moon and moot, you two should decide by what means you see fit who is to challenge me and that wolf should then declare the challenge at moot as normal. Yes?

Blackriver's tongue comes out and smoothes back her whiskers. She flicks an ear in an agitated 'okay,' and stands up, stiffly shifting weight from one paw to another. After a moment of distracted thought she lets out a soft sound that announces that she has one more thing to say.

Lightning remains seated, focussed on the philodox, and with majestic politeness invites her to come forth with whatever statement she wishes to make.

Blackriver likes her nose once more. A while ago, after Fire-Burns-Forever died, a falcon spirit told me that one of raven's children owed one of falcon's children a favor. The Philodox pauses and tips her head to the side before going on. Then a raven-changer told me she owed our tribe a favor. She said something small, not very dangerous. Another pause. When that happened there was nothing the tribe needed that she could do. So she still owes us a favor.

Lightning still beckons Blackriver to go on. Do you think you know a favor the ravens could grant us? Do you know a raven who would grant it?

Blackriver tips her head to the other side to peer at Lightning. No. She answers succinctly to the first question. The raven-changer will grant it. The raven-changer is... the raven-changer. She tries to explain, somewhat exasperated. Everyone knows her. The lupus' hair raises up a tad and her lips peel back, showing her opinion of the Corax.

Lightning indicates that he at least does not know this particular raven-changer, and queries whether, if Blackriver's opinion of her is low, it is wise to seek payback of the obligation? Sometimes, he adds, it is better to have an obligation owing for the future, than actually to collect on it.

Blackriver flicks her ears in a shrug, and points out that she hasn't collected on it. I tell you because you are elder now. She adds. So you know.

Lightning bumps heads with Blackriver gently. Yes, I know. And as elder I must listen to my tribe. So if you think of a favor they can do us now, or later, let me know.

Blackriver wags her tail lightly in silent agreement.

Lightning climbs back to his feet. Although I am alpha of tribe now, he tells Blackriver, you must always be ready to take the place back again if I fall. I am chosen of Falcon, yes, but I am not immortal. Meantime, run bravely and with light feet now that the responsibility is no longer yours.

Blackriver lets out a soft chuff, and trots off down the caern, tail waving out behind her.