Slacks, perfectly pressed, a blouse, all under a long leather coat. Her hands in her pockets, her pale gaze burning across the streets, and her short, short hair uncovered. She seems unbothered by the chill, unphased by the weather.
[AnneMarie Hoch] test
to AnneMarie Hoch
[Torn Ear] (( open…? ))
[AnneMarie Hoch] (Yup, join away.)
[Bai Chou] Bai himself felt like a Chinese cold dessert as he huddled within the white peacoat. He was out of place, truth be told. The Cabrini wasn’t his turf…Chinatown was, but he was sick of ramen…wok rice…steamed shrip…really..the list went on of all the Asian delicacies that his stomach was getting abhorrently use to. He stretched and reminded himself to get some hand-rolled cigs from Chen later…he needed the smokes and hated feeding the corporations that were more then likely tied to the Wyrm in one way or another.
If you weren’t fucking the Wyrm…you were likely getting fucked by them. Like surprise sex. And not the kind people generally wanted. He glanced around as he kept walking, eyes shifting around as he got the daunting reminder that he was also in the territory of one of the most vicious, aggressive tribes that existed within the Nation. Fenrir…Gaia’s little blitzkriegs. He kept his eyes open more at that reminder as he continued further in.
[AnneMarie Hoch] Soon enough the signs became more noticable, and then the reminder comes in the form of AnneMarie herself. She doesn’t pause in her stride, though there is no doubt when her gaze locks on Bai Chou.
He is out of place, which is a given. He is on her turf – again, a given. The only thing that remains to be seen is what he wants, and if he will still be welcome after he speaks.
The Modi is a bit testy, it would seem. Not suprising as Luna hangs heavy in the sky.
[Torn Ear] A low growl in the alley… a screeching cat, a toppling garbage can… another growl…
[Bai Chou] He blinks slightly as he comes up short of Anne Marie…the silent one. He had seen her at the moots but she didn’t say shit and she was more then unnerving. He raised a brow slightly before he spoke up.
“…yo. Was just out to get some pizza. Know any place still open around here?”
[AnneMarie Hoch] The growl pulls her attention partially away from Bai, enough to cause her steps to pause, then stop as she looks toward the alley. Bai stops, speaks, and her pale gaze settles on him, unflinchingly. Her chin lifts, slightly – a shortened version of greeting that the Eagle packmates all seem to have.
She looks toward the alley again, and then farther down the street. Slim fingers pull from her pocket, as she points down the block where a flickering neon sign can be seen, advertizing pizza. Apparently still open.
Then, she returns her gaze to meet his evenly. Silent still.
[Bai Chou] The eyebrow arched again.
“…not much for small talk?”
[AnneMarie Hoch] Ah. A smart one. The corner of her lips twitch, slightly. Perhaps upwards. Perhaps not. The expression is too brief to tell.
And people thought Silence was moody…
[Torn Ear] The alley is dark… still…
And then suddenly out of nowhere streaks a yowling cat. Worse! A yowling…bloodied cat, dragging its tail along the ground, no, its GUTS. It races forward, fear and pain crazed, tripping, falling down the curb and finally staggering to a stop under a parked car…
Deep in the alley, a long low growl begins to sound…
[Bai Chou] “Well…you understand English…and I don’t know German. So either you don’t like to talk or you’re like my dau-”
He cuts off, glancing down…if it was Chinatown…he would assume he was close to Pung Kwo’s Buffet. But this was Cabrini….which meant it wasn’t the backalley special. Then he heard the growl, glancing over as his hand slid back beneath his coat…waiting.
[AnneMarie Hoch] Brilliance. She still gives no suggestion that she is going to speak. Instead, her gaze falls to watch the screeching dying cat race by, considering it for a moment before once again looking into the alley.
Bai reaches beneath his coat and waits, and that smirk that almost appeared before makes another brief flash across her lips before she, her hands once again in her coat pockets, steps into the mouth of the alley.
[Torn Ear] Darkness…
The glare of the street fading…
And in the shadows, a gleaming pair of yellow eyes above white teeth bared in a rippling snarl…
[Torn Ear] (( either of you have purebreed?? ))
[AnneMarie Hoch] When the eyes come into view, she stops. Now she waits. There is no sound from the Modi, only a cock of her head to the left, a surprisingly animalistic gesture, speaking true of the rage that bleeds under her skin, screaming to be let loose.
Her brow arches slightly. And still, she waits, and appears apparently unconcerned with the growl. How much they choose to put into appearances remains to be seen.
(No PB, rage 5)
[Torn Ear] The alley is a dead end…no way out but forward. The way the cat went before it died. The way Annemarie stands now…blocking the snarling beast. Wolf, it’s a wolf. A cornered wolf…standing with his hindquarters to the corner, front legs planted wide…broadening his chest to seem larger than he is.
The growl continues…his head up, ears forward, aggressive…but his anxiety is betrayed by the swishing of his tail
[AnneMarie Hoch] A cornered Wolf. Fight or flight instinct in full effect. She tips her head the other way – one can almost swear it would be accompanied with a twitch of an ear, though she remains clothed in human skin.
She deliberately, and carefully moves. Stepping aside, just enough that the wolf is no longer trapped completely. Freedom within reach, a way out. But her gaze never leaves the snarling, anxious wolf, continuing to meet Yellow gaze without flinching.
Still silent.
Disconcerting, isn’t it.
[Bai Chou] Bai paused, but stayed a little bit back. Not that he was afraid..but it was a real wolf…well…wolves and Bai didn’t mix well. Animals and Bai didn’t mix at all.
[Torn Ear] Anne gives him room… and the growling abates…but only a little…
No longer continuous, it’s a growl carried on every exhale…
He slowly inches forward, closing the distance… still a good fifteen feet away, the wolf stops… a little more in the light now. His fur is thick and shaggy, the fur of a northern wolf… a timberwolf with a timberwolf’s brindled coat…gray and white liberally shot through with brown. From his size and the thickness of the fur around his shoulders, they can see he’s an adult male, albeit young…
What’s more.. they can feel his rage now, beating waves of it.
More than a mere wolf…
[AnneMarie Hoch] AnneMarie watches him carefully. As he comes near and his rage clashes with hers, she lifts her chin towards the wolf. Acknowledgment of what he apparently is. She sinks to a crouch with a grace that is pure and elegant, muscles rippling in concert to allow her to move with fluidity. Slow and sure, until she is more on a level with the large Male wolf.
Equals. She does not force dominance. Yet.
Instead, her hands pull from her pockets, forearms rest on her knees, her hands hanging lightly between them.
[Torn Ear] As Anne lowers herself to a crouch the wolf’s growl dies to the lowest rumbling in his throat. Yellow eyes study her with great intelligence and wary curiosity… his tail, which had been straight out and wagging in tension, now slowly drops to hang more relaxed behind him. Not tucked…
Yellow eyes narrowing…he lifts his lean face, scenting the air…they had the smell of the city on them, but something else…soemthing familiar…
Could he hope…?
[Bai Chou] Bai just stands slightly aside, his hand meanwhile not relaxing on the hilt of his dagger beneath the peacoat…hand ready to whip it around behind his back if necessary. He really didn’t need an animal fight…werewolf or not. Glancing to Anne and then towards fido.
“…run along and be a good wolfie. Or if you understand English rather easily…go back into the alley and then we’ll talk.”
No real give aways other then maybe people thinking he was nuts if they overhead him speaking.
[Torn Ear] Bai’s sudden speech startles the wolf. His ears flatten back for an instant, then immediately stand straight up as he pulls himself to his full height, raising his head… dominant posture. The growl starts again…renewed in force. Bai had something about him that set the wolf’s nerves on edge… the mark of a fellow predator, a competitor.
[AnneMarie Hoch] She shoots a glance at Bai. Considering she was inside the mouth of the alley, and the Wolf was a goof 15 feet inside still… But the glance is all the reaction he gets. Lucky, really, for the inherent disrespect in his comments. Her hand lifts toward Chou, to bid him silence. This is, after all, Eagle land.
Her call. One does not disrespect an unknown. That ends in death.
Instead, her attention returns to Torn Ear, her posture easy, relaxed. She is steady, steadfast, as she watches the slow relaxation of the wolf before her. He snaps up, offended, and she returns her hands to her previously easy stance. A slight lift of her chin seems to encourage the hope seen so briefly.
[Bai Chou] …he had just wanted a damn pizza and now this crap. He sighed, fingers tightening around the pommel again as he stared, not about to take shit from a wolf…or a new guy…whichever the case may be. His feet only moved to a more defensive position if the thing decided to take a flying leap at him. For all he knew…the Fenicita near him might just let it attack to see if he could fight.
[Torn Ear] It didn’t seem like the wolf understood a word of english… or any other ape tongue… but he knew the language of the body, and bai’s body just became defensive. Defensive is better than boldness, might even be interpreted as the correct response of a stranger to a dominant display. The wolf seems to calm a little… he doesn’t come forward, but he does pace in place a little, forelegs shifting… closer together now, a more natural stance that displayed the lupine narrowness of his body. Modern dogs, some of them, have been bred for breadth of chest and shoulder, but the wolf is a lean animal, long and graceful and enduring… some people are surprised by how narrow they are seen head-on.
The growling has subsided again. It is a strange sort of standoff…each waiting for the other to make some move betraying their true nature.
[Torn Ear] (( i need to afk really fast… like 10 min lol, brb ))
[AnneMarie Hoch] She glances back toward the street again, judging her depth within the shadows. Judging it not to be enough, she slides into motion once more, smooth, slow, without being overly aggressive. Her very nature is aggressive enough, she needs not add anything else to set him defensive once more.
A glance, pointed, suggests that Bai remain there to guard the alley mouth. Then, when she moves, she does so with deliberation, stepping into the embrace of shadows deeper in the alley. Once she judges herself hidden enough, she flows into the crouch again, relaxing a moment, her gaze on the Wolf before her.
Then, with deceptive ease, she shifts. Rage begets rage, and he cannot possibly be surprise when, after the cycle through forms, a Wolf, shaggy brown coat with black undercoatings, has joined him in the alley.
[Bai Chou] Bai glanced but got enough of the gist as he crossed his arms…sighing but not arguing as he leaned against the wall to the mouth of the alley, rubbing some warmth back into his limbs as he waited.
[Torn Ear] (( back, sorry! ))
[AnneMarie Hoch] ((No worries)
[Torn Ear] Yellow eyes betray nothing as Anne becomes wolf… but when she is finished he comes forward one cautious step at a time… slanting to the left. He does not face her head to head, instead circling around stiff legged, his head high… instinct between strange wolves meeting, the dominance play resolved in something so simple as who sniffed whose ass first. Crude? Only to those born of man form… and this is easier than fighting it out.
If she allows him to learn her scent first, he will rank himself above her until proven otherwise… if she doesn’t, they will begin a tense sort of back and forth, an ancient war dance full of silent snarls and quick snaps, warning only with no real blood drawn, that ends in a wary mutual exchange… and no clear dominance on either side.
Either way…
When that is out of the way, the wolf sits gingerly on his haunches, giving his head a quick shake. When he sits like that they can see the splash of red fur on his breast, where some wolves bore a white blaze he bore a red badge of courage… or bloodthirst, depending on whom you believed…
[AnneMarie Hoch] There is no willing give of rank and dominance. He moves in the ancient dance, and she – not born of monkey skin, but far, far worse – follows the procedures with a bitter, fluid grace. There is wanring. Silent snarls. Quick snaps. Testing of the new one’s mettle, with caution, and confidence, at least on the Modi’s point.
No clear winner, though she gives nothing to him. Not an inch. They finish wary equals.
Brow point lifts over left eye as she studies the red fur along his chest. Head cocks to the side, ears point upwards, and swivel. Curious. She asks without asking. She expects answers, without sound.
She will form her own opinions and beliefs.
[Bai Chou] (I’m gonna jet folks…but Bai will stay there until Anne comes back out and then go get his pizza.)
[Torn Ear] The wolf gives no verbal answer. So much of wolves’ understanding passed as simply as their rank matching had… in gestures, warnings and reactions, in posture. And no wolf really cared about tribe… few garou too from where he’s from, so deep in the wilds that there really was only one tribe…
His answer is perhaps not as satisfactory as she would like, but it is the only one he knows how to give… he sits straight, chest out, displaying the splash of red proudly with his ears up, head up.
His blood is pure, and it would speak for itself… the savage song of the Red Talons…
Then he cocks his head to the side and scratches behind one ear, his hindleg a blur. When he’s finished he straightens again…
The first real “words”, in a rough and halting Garouspeech…the “accent” perfect, but the words coming slowly, as though even this rudimentary language were foreign to his wolf born mind…
“There is… Caern here…? In… Weaver Scar?”
[Torn Ear] (( kk, night! thx ))
[AnneMarie Hoch] (ANNEMARIE.
and cool, night dude.)
[AnneMarie Hoch] A huff of breath, air without sound, as he gives his reply. A shake of her head, fur ruffled, in acknowledgment, before she grows still again. She listens to his words, but makes no verbal reply of her own. Instead, there is a sharp, definitive nod of lupine head.
Yes, there is a Caern. In the City.
[Torn Ear] The wolf seems to grapple with this impossibility… a caern, the holiest of holies… heart of gaia… beating deep in the weaver torn wrym choked scar of the city.
He draws himself straighter with a gruff snort. Rising to all fours.
“I am Torn Ear.” He flicks the ear for emphasis… the tip of it notched, a chunk missing from a long ago fight. “Singing-moon.” He doesn’t bother to state his tribe or his breed…where he comes from these were givens. “I look for pack. Pack… taken. Somewhere in Scar. You …show me Caern?”
[AnneMarie Hoch] Head cocks to the side. Ear flickers, and then with a stretch, she reverses the process until she once again resides in Monkey Skin. Slender fingers slide over short-shorn hair, before smoothing her clothing into place, restoring her perfection.
Once satisfied, she falls into graceful crouch again, her coat pooling around her ankles. She dips her fingers into the pocket of her coat, and pulls free the white board and pen, writing three words in neat precise strokes of the pen. ~Can you read?~
[Torn Ear] Torn Ear, as he named himself, doesn’t even look at the white board for a long time. Finally… he seems to grasp that she wants him to look at it. He tilts his head to the side… clearly not understanding a single marking…
“Human markings are of Wyrm!” He barks this easily enough… the sharp sound echoing off steep alley walls… it was probably repeated often enough by his elders to be familiar. Human this is of wyrm! Human that is of wyrm! Humans of wyrm..!
[AnneMarie Hoch] Lovely. That complicates things, greatly. Another nod, and she swipes the board across her thigh, and tucks it away again. She clasps her hands together, lightly, before lifting one to bid him wait a moment. Her eyes go distant, as she makes the call.
Found a Red Talon Lupus in an alley, seeking the Caern. He does not read, I do not speak, and guestures communicate only so much. I will not take him to Maelstrom without his being checked out. I could use a bit of help.
It galls her to have to ask. She hates nothing more then to be found less then the perfect standard she sets for herself. But ask she does, before she returns her gaze to the Lupus before her. A lift of her chin, a lift of her hand, both bid him wait.
[Torn Ear] Uncertain of what this silence means… Torn Ear rises to all fours again… backing up a step or two in uncertainty.
“Can read… glyphs?”
[AnneMarie Hoch] Ah. Of course.
A sharp nod, and the whiteboard appears once more. Perhaps she has been among the streets too long, but the glyphs come with equal ease and preciseness.
Fenrir. Modi. Metis. Eagle. Mute.
(Ahha! Explination for the silence that continues. )
Eagle called. Wait.