Gathering.
Mar. 19th, 2013 07:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kiananlogsTuesday, 19 March 2013
The moon is in the waxing Half (Philodox) Moon phase (53% full).
Earlier today, the body was buried, and the mound of fresh earth remains to signal the location. Already three candles are set at cardinal positions, though as yet, none are lit. As the others arrive, Kavi and Rina can be found kneeling where the missing candle and stone will soon be placed.
Charlene has managed to dress herself in some of her nicer clothes, despite the injuries she's still healing from. It's been quite a while since she's been here— visiting the fallen was something that she never did unless it was before a battle as a reminder of her mortality— but it's still something that she doesn't enjoy doing. She looks to see who all there is here, nodding to Kavi and Rina, moving to stand nearby.
Kavi looks up as Charlene nears, and offers her a solemn nod. He casts a glance to Rina at his side, and his hands tighten their grip on the messenger bag at his knees.
Rina is still and silent, weight resting back on her heels, her expression bleak and numb. Her gaze rests on the turned earth, but the dark eyes seem distant, unfocused.
The approach of the ragabash is an uncharacteristically quiet one. Riley doesn't stop to greet anyone or drop a quip— she simply approaches, hands deeply set into her pockets, her face solemn.
On quiet feet, Ky steps from the press of trees to the very edge of the clearing. Clad for work, or maybe travel, and for the moment in homid regardless of his own battle-damaged body. A crease forms along his forehead as brows knit together, though he makes no move to proceed closer.
Alexandra is still moving a little stiffly from her injuries as she makes her way to the burial mounds. Like Charlene, she's dressed more formally for the occasion— it's the first time since her first change that Ahroun has worn a dress, though one that's at least somewhat functional, as it's designed to allow her to wear her crystal knives, the dark fabric blending with the black fur of the sheath on each hip.
Kavi looks up again with each arrival, though he doesn't speak. There's a wince, a pinched expression, when he pulls in a deeper breath, but he reaches for Rina's hand and starts pushing to his feet.
The Walker elder arrives in lupus, more out of necessity than desire. She's cleaned herself up, but that somehow makes the barely scabbed, self inflicted wounds all over her front even worse looking, coupled with that dragging, shuffling gait that her hind legs can only just manage. The mechanical looking backbrace has also been washed off, and blazoned red in the exposed flesh of one shoulder is a single, tear-drop shaped injury that will undoubtably leave a particularly recognizable souvenir from the events of Saturday. Three-From-Ashes's mood is solemn as she draws up with the others.
Rina rises smoothly, a strong and graceful contrast to the injured Garou around her. Her grip is tight on Kavi's hand, her gaze unwavering.
If Riley is still wounded, they're wounds that aren't showing. She walks with her typical gait, and when she arrives at the mound proper, she's standing straight and tall— the latter of which she couldn't particularly help if she tried. She sends a few glances toward Kavi, Rina, and Mouse, but remains quiet and solemn while she waits for the send-off to begin.
The wounds that Charlene has have mostly healed over, deep bruises visible on her arms, her shirt hiding a few more of the teardrop-shaped scars from the caern re-awakening. A small bag of something is placed on the ground by her foot, her bending slow and easy with a bit of a wince when she gets beyond 60 degrees, straightening slowly, letting out a breath.
Ky's gaze flickers to the athro's arrival, and follow her progress up to the burial site. The crease on his forehead deepens, though he looks aside to watch Charlene and Kavi.
Alexandra takes in the surroundings and those who are present silently, aiming a glance back at Ky, though when it becomes clear that her packmate intends to remain on the outskirts, she moves to stand near Charlene, instead.
From the bag now at his feet, Kavi removes several candles. All but one are decorated and he turns them in his hands before passing each to the artist responsible. Passing one to Rina, first, the galliard then gives one to Riley finally offers a third to Mouse. In the end he holds two in his own hands, one deeply carved and decorated with colored paper, and one a simple affair of off-white wax, unadorned. "Flint was my friend," he says and then pauses to swallow.
Three From Ashes shifts up to accept the candle, where she stands, if unsteadily. She looks much more presentable in homid, where her clothes are clean and cover most of the injuries, apart from those on her hands. Her attention seems mostly centered on the mound, rather than her candle, or any of the gathered.
Accepting her candle in silence, Riley holds it low, her shoulders slumping slightly. The wick of her candle has been coated in a thin layer of metal, and from the base to one-fifth of the way up the candle has been painstakingly etched with writings and symbols, etched inexpertly by what must have been a needle-thin tool. The remaining portion of the candle is entirely blank. As a work of art, it's sloppy— but it's clear she put her heart into what's there.
Rina's is densely carved, with so much texture and detail it's actually hard for anyone to make out, even those standing nearest. There are faint, watercolor-like additions of color, barely shifting the tone of the white in places.
When the candles are passed out, Charlene bends to retrieve her bag, undoing the leather drawstrings carefully and then withdrawing a candle of her own. Similar to the ones the rest of the people hold, the glyphs for 'Galliard' and 'Glass Walker' are carved delicately with claws, filled in with a slightly darker wax in order to make a ghostly contrast, color highlighting the edges. Small feathers, raven, mockingbird, blue jay, all gathered from the bawn, are tied in a loose garland around the candle about midway down, and a small paper book dangles from a hand-woven line.
Ky reaches around behind his back to produce his own candle, the taper withdrawn from his back pocket. It shows little sign of being worked at all, some faint inconsistencies around the base may hint at some kind of carving, but mostly the wax is unblemished.
Alexandra is no artist, to do elaborate decorations on the candle that she brought, but she's etched glyphs on the candle that she brought with her. The glyph for Merlin, the one for Unfettered, a third matching the glyphs she's had burned into the leather of her sheathes: Requiem. A wavy line wraps its way up the candle as well.
Again reaching for Rina's hand, Kavi sets his own decorated candle on top of his bag. Once he's upright again, he looks to each of those gathered and nods. From his pocket, he retrieves a lighter, and his thumb plays over the surface. "We gather to celebrate life. We gather to share memories. We gather to say farewell. We gather to lend the strength of our song to Flint, Carves the Requiem for Cockroach's Children, as his spirit journeys home." With one simple movement, he strikes the lighter and holds the wick of the plain candle to the flame. It becomes more obvious, as he starts to walk, why he took hold of the Kin's hand, before. Still, he manages, circling the body and lighting the three already planted candles. "As the flame passes from each to the next around the circle, let each speak of the memories of our friend and wish him a safe journey, and a longer stay when he returns. Then plant your candle, and let the warmth and light we offer encircle him, as our thoughts and wishes do." With that, he holds out the flame in offering to Mouse.
Mouse brings the wick of her candle to the offered light. Her decorations appear to be several small carvings, not easy to make out at any kind of distance. The Walker elder is silent, looking at her candle now, her mouth set into a firm line. Eventually, unhurried, she speaks, though she doesn't seem to have much to say. "Flint was my cub." There's a pause. "I rited him. Named him. Assigned him the task of giving us a way to honor and remember our fallen tribemembers. His is the first new name I've entered into that database, and the first to be added to the wall. We'll remember." She pauses again, but there are no more words from her. Instead she turns, gingerly, and brings her lit candle toward Riley's.
Once Mouse's candle takes light, Kavi places the last of the unadorned candles in the soil at his feet and takes his own candle as he rises again.
As the flame passes to her, Riley's candle sparks it's way to life. "On the outside, Flint and I… we weren't close. We fought… like, all the time. We got in each other's hair, frayed at each other's nerves. I'd poke at him sometimes just to get a reaction out of him. He frustrated me, because he wasn't where he needed to be yet, and I was vocal about telling him that." Riley glances down at the burial mound, her brows knitting, and she takes a long breath. "…Because I wanted him to grow, and I wanted to see him grow. I wanted to see him surmount all of the obstacles in his path— those nervous habits of his, those insecurities— because they reminded me of myself."
She lets a brief smile appear on her features, but it's overwhelmed quickly and fades back into a thoughtful expression. "I wanted to help him do those things, even if it meant he had a low opinion of me, because that's what being a family is about. It's about butting heads and never quite seeing eye-to-eye, but always wanting what's best for the ones that are in it, even if they don't always see it. Even if you… come on a little strong sometimes, and… uh…" Riley's eyelids rapidly blink a few times, and her lips momentarily purse. When she speaks again, she's far quieter.
"…you were always talking about the voices in your head, the ones from a past life, and… that gives me comfort, knowing that somewhere maybe you're chattering up some poor little kid, and maybe drowning out the ones that made less sense then you did." She smiles wide, and gently laughs, eyes slightly moist, "Or maybe you've just got another fresh start, and this time you'll buck that stutter and get out there and make out with someone, for Gaia's sake, and…" She clearly realizes she's running long, and takes a step forward, swallowing and taking a final, steadying breath. Her last words are all but a mumble. "You went too soon, you damned idiot. You had so much more of a candle to fill." The woman is quiet then, and offers the flame of her partially-etched candle to Charlene.
When Riley's flame comes to her, Charlene brings her candle close, the golden flame passing from one candle to the other, the wick sputtering, then blazing into life, burning strongly. "Flint was one of the first people I met when I returned, and he gave me a welcome that made me feel right at home. He and I… we had a good friendship. Not just sharing stories like Galliards were supposed to, but doing things that friends were supposed to do together." Charlene shifts from one foot to the other. "He always came across as a bit frustrated… that stutter of his showing up exactly when it didn't need to and often when he was most nervous, but he always made it through." She trails off, looking into the flame, her eyes shining, realizing she's re-hashing some of Riley's words. "Friends leaving the rest behind is always a difficult thing for those of us left behind. For the fallen, they're off on a great adventure that, when they return, can only strengthen them." She strokes the feathers on her candle lightly, letting them twist in the breeze for a moment. "I will treasure the times that I spent with him. I will remember the stories he shared with me and the way he persevered against the obstacles placed in his path. I will miss him greatly." Charlene bows her head and then offers the candle's flame to Ky.
As those before him speak of Flint, Ky makes his way toward the mound, quiet enough to not take away from the sharing. His candle is held up to take light from Charlene's flame. For a moment he's silent, staring at the flame dancing at the end of the taper. "I hate you," he says finally, with a twist of tone that changes the statement from scorn to brotherly fondness and a shared bond. Probably something only Flint would understand. "And I'm sorry," comes far more quietly, sober and earnest, as if he were speaking to his fallen packmate. Still looking at the candle's flame, he turns slightly to pass the light on to Lex.
"Flint was the first friend I had after coming to Hidden Walk," Alexandra says as she shares the light from Ky. "I could talk about the times we fought together, about our quest for the Beast Glatisant… but I'd rather share a dream. Flint and I appeared at a crossroads. We picked a direction, toward the open sky where we could see an eagle circling far off in the distance, and passed through a meadow that seemed to last forever, we howled our greeting to it, and then we found ourselves at the shore of a lake." She pauses in her story. "I never did get the chance to teach you how to swim," she says softly, rubbing at her eyes before she continues. "We made it out into the water, but then it turned the kind of cold that drained away your strength no matter how hard you tried to keep moving. We tried to imagine ourselves flying, then, since we knew things worked differently in dreams. It wasn't that much different, but we did manage to find our footing… on something's back. A dragon with blue-white fur, that flew through the water, and then flew up into the air. It asked us each riddles, and laughed with us as we managed to figure them out. We soared into infinity… that one shared moment of pure wonder and awe, before we woke, back in this world again. That's how I remember you." She chokes up, then, and falls silent, moving over to share the flame with Rina.
Rina takes a moment to notice, to turn and light her candle from that offered source. She is nearly expressionless, as she faces that mound of freshly-dug earth. "Fli—" At first there is no voice; she stills, takes a breath, and speaks. Not many people remember why, or how, but this voice is trained, eloquent, a far cry from her usual rough-edged cityspeak. "Flint was my son," she says in this new voice, weighted with emotion. "I claim him as the son of my heart, the son of my spirit." She steps forward, two steps in to close the distance to the edge of the grave; the candle in her left hand, she uses her right to push up her sleeve and then draws the Boker fighting knife from behind her back. Seven swift strokes, not terribly deep but firm enough to bleed, etch the tribal glyph into her forearm; her grip on the candle only tightens. "The son of my blood," she says, staying where she is until a few drops fall from her wrist to the dirt. "I ask you, Gaia, to give him more, when his spirit returns. Give him a sweeter journey, and a longer one. Let him know the love of this life, and let him be loved in the next. Give him guidance, and light his way with what we offer." Reversing the knife neatly in her hand, she wipes the blade on her thigh and closes her eyes, whispering words that are not for anyone to hear but the wind. It is only then that grief comes to her face, lashes darkening, tears breaking free to streak down both cheeks and catch the light. When she opens her eyes and steps back, her jaw is tight with it, her breathing irregular. But she turns to Kavi, offering the flame and looking up to meet his gaze for a moment.
Watching in silence, Kavi offers a single nod as each of the others gives their piece, but his breathing shudders as Rina speaks, and his eyes close until she's done. A deeper breath is drawn in as he accepts the flame and his gaze rests upon that bright spot. For a long while he is silent, as wax melts and rolls down the edge. The first piece of paper catches, fizzing to life with a brief shower of blue sparks, apparently coated in some chemical. His lips curve upward, briefly, and he nods to himself. "Flint was my friend. I wanted to protect him. I failed. He was my student. He was a brother to me, in tribe and more. We taught one another about family, and that's what we were." Shifting the candle to his left hand, he touches the small stud in his right earlobe. "I know… I know his time here mattered. He touched us, and we touched him. Requiem will be remembered, and when his spirit returns…" The galliard catches his lip between his teeth, and slowly lets it scrape free. "When his spirit returns, it will be with the added strength of our time together." He pauses again with a slow breath in and out to steady himself, and then slowly lowers himself to plant his candle a few feet from the first. "Howl, now," he says as he rises. "Howl his spirit home. And when our voices fail, we will let the sound and the light of the candles protect him and carry him as far as he needs to go."
Mouse steps forward— unbalanced, awkward, slow— and places her candle near Kavi's. She shifts as she steps back, a smooth transition up into crinos, where the light from the candles reflects off of the small piebald stag pendant she wears. She lets her voice sound first, a deep and mournful howl that lasts her full breath, with only the faintest of pauses for her to gather another.
Riley follows suit, easing her candle into the ground and then surging up to Crinos to join the howl with all the lung capacity that she can muster.
Ky sinks onto a knee to push his candle into the ground with the others. Then, pushing upright, he grows into crinos and joins in with his own howl.
Charlene's candle is laid on the ground near the others, wax trailing along the sides, highlighting the symbols. She steps back enough to be sure to not knock the candles over before shifting to crinos, howling along with the others, her voice melding.
Alexandra places her candle carefully, also spending a moment to push a small wooden disc into the dirt of the mound. "Can't have you leaving that behind," she whispers, then pushes back to her feet, already beginning the transition the war form so that she can join her howl with the others.
Rina lets the strength of those voices buffet her. Finally she drops to one knee to plant her candle firmly, the knife sheathed again at her back. Then she kneels and keens, a long outpouring wail of grief that mingles with the fiercer howling.
Kavi shifts, not to crinos, but to lupus, and settles close by Rina as he lifts his muzzle to join the howl.
Seconds become minutes, and still the mournful sound continues, until one by one the voices are spent and nothing remains but the not-quite-silence of the moonlit wood. The candles flicker, occasionally bolstered by a flash of color from another of the strips buried in Kavi's, but eventually even those are spent, and flames of the individual wicks slowly lower.
The moon is in the waxing Half (Philodox) Moon phase (53% full).
Earlier today, the body was buried, and the mound of fresh earth remains to signal the location. Already three candles are set at cardinal positions, though as yet, none are lit. As the others arrive, Kavi and Rina can be found kneeling where the missing candle and stone will soon be placed.
Charlene has managed to dress herself in some of her nicer clothes, despite the injuries she's still healing from. It's been quite a while since she's been here— visiting the fallen was something that she never did unless it was before a battle as a reminder of her mortality— but it's still something that she doesn't enjoy doing. She looks to see who all there is here, nodding to Kavi and Rina, moving to stand nearby.
Kavi looks up as Charlene nears, and offers her a solemn nod. He casts a glance to Rina at his side, and his hands tighten their grip on the messenger bag at his knees.
Rina is still and silent, weight resting back on her heels, her expression bleak and numb. Her gaze rests on the turned earth, but the dark eyes seem distant, unfocused.
The approach of the ragabash is an uncharacteristically quiet one. Riley doesn't stop to greet anyone or drop a quip— she simply approaches, hands deeply set into her pockets, her face solemn.
On quiet feet, Ky steps from the press of trees to the very edge of the clearing. Clad for work, or maybe travel, and for the moment in homid regardless of his own battle-damaged body. A crease forms along his forehead as brows knit together, though he makes no move to proceed closer.
Alexandra is still moving a little stiffly from her injuries as she makes her way to the burial mounds. Like Charlene, she's dressed more formally for the occasion— it's the first time since her first change that Ahroun has worn a dress, though one that's at least somewhat functional, as it's designed to allow her to wear her crystal knives, the dark fabric blending with the black fur of the sheath on each hip.
Kavi looks up again with each arrival, though he doesn't speak. There's a wince, a pinched expression, when he pulls in a deeper breath, but he reaches for Rina's hand and starts pushing to his feet.
The Walker elder arrives in lupus, more out of necessity than desire. She's cleaned herself up, but that somehow makes the barely scabbed, self inflicted wounds all over her front even worse looking, coupled with that dragging, shuffling gait that her hind legs can only just manage. The mechanical looking backbrace has also been washed off, and blazoned red in the exposed flesh of one shoulder is a single, tear-drop shaped injury that will undoubtably leave a particularly recognizable souvenir from the events of Saturday. Three-From-Ashes's mood is solemn as she draws up with the others.
Rina rises smoothly, a strong and graceful contrast to the injured Garou around her. Her grip is tight on Kavi's hand, her gaze unwavering.
If Riley is still wounded, they're wounds that aren't showing. She walks with her typical gait, and when she arrives at the mound proper, she's standing straight and tall— the latter of which she couldn't particularly help if she tried. She sends a few glances toward Kavi, Rina, and Mouse, but remains quiet and solemn while she waits for the send-off to begin.
The wounds that Charlene has have mostly healed over, deep bruises visible on her arms, her shirt hiding a few more of the teardrop-shaped scars from the caern re-awakening. A small bag of something is placed on the ground by her foot, her bending slow and easy with a bit of a wince when she gets beyond 60 degrees, straightening slowly, letting out a breath.
Ky's gaze flickers to the athro's arrival, and follow her progress up to the burial site. The crease on his forehead deepens, though he looks aside to watch Charlene and Kavi.
Alexandra takes in the surroundings and those who are present silently, aiming a glance back at Ky, though when it becomes clear that her packmate intends to remain on the outskirts, she moves to stand near Charlene, instead.
From the bag now at his feet, Kavi removes several candles. All but one are decorated and he turns them in his hands before passing each to the artist responsible. Passing one to Rina, first, the galliard then gives one to Riley finally offers a third to Mouse. In the end he holds two in his own hands, one deeply carved and decorated with colored paper, and one a simple affair of off-white wax, unadorned. "Flint was my friend," he says and then pauses to swallow.
Three From Ashes shifts up to accept the candle, where she stands, if unsteadily. She looks much more presentable in homid, where her clothes are clean and cover most of the injuries, apart from those on her hands. Her attention seems mostly centered on the mound, rather than her candle, or any of the gathered.
Accepting her candle in silence, Riley holds it low, her shoulders slumping slightly. The wick of her candle has been coated in a thin layer of metal, and from the base to one-fifth of the way up the candle has been painstakingly etched with writings and symbols, etched inexpertly by what must have been a needle-thin tool. The remaining portion of the candle is entirely blank. As a work of art, it's sloppy— but it's clear she put her heart into what's there.
Rina's is densely carved, with so much texture and detail it's actually hard for anyone to make out, even those standing nearest. There are faint, watercolor-like additions of color, barely shifting the tone of the white in places.
When the candles are passed out, Charlene bends to retrieve her bag, undoing the leather drawstrings carefully and then withdrawing a candle of her own. Similar to the ones the rest of the people hold, the glyphs for 'Galliard' and 'Glass Walker' are carved delicately with claws, filled in with a slightly darker wax in order to make a ghostly contrast, color highlighting the edges. Small feathers, raven, mockingbird, blue jay, all gathered from the bawn, are tied in a loose garland around the candle about midway down, and a small paper book dangles from a hand-woven line.
Ky reaches around behind his back to produce his own candle, the taper withdrawn from his back pocket. It shows little sign of being worked at all, some faint inconsistencies around the base may hint at some kind of carving, but mostly the wax is unblemished.
Alexandra is no artist, to do elaborate decorations on the candle that she brought, but she's etched glyphs on the candle that she brought with her. The glyph for Merlin, the one for Unfettered, a third matching the glyphs she's had burned into the leather of her sheathes: Requiem. A wavy line wraps its way up the candle as well.
Again reaching for Rina's hand, Kavi sets his own decorated candle on top of his bag. Once he's upright again, he looks to each of those gathered and nods. From his pocket, he retrieves a lighter, and his thumb plays over the surface. "We gather to celebrate life. We gather to share memories. We gather to say farewell. We gather to lend the strength of our song to Flint, Carves the Requiem for Cockroach's Children, as his spirit journeys home." With one simple movement, he strikes the lighter and holds the wick of the plain candle to the flame. It becomes more obvious, as he starts to walk, why he took hold of the Kin's hand, before. Still, he manages, circling the body and lighting the three already planted candles. "As the flame passes from each to the next around the circle, let each speak of the memories of our friend and wish him a safe journey, and a longer stay when he returns. Then plant your candle, and let the warmth and light we offer encircle him, as our thoughts and wishes do." With that, he holds out the flame in offering to Mouse.
Mouse brings the wick of her candle to the offered light. Her decorations appear to be several small carvings, not easy to make out at any kind of distance. The Walker elder is silent, looking at her candle now, her mouth set into a firm line. Eventually, unhurried, she speaks, though she doesn't seem to have much to say. "Flint was my cub." There's a pause. "I rited him. Named him. Assigned him the task of giving us a way to honor and remember our fallen tribemembers. His is the first new name I've entered into that database, and the first to be added to the wall. We'll remember." She pauses again, but there are no more words from her. Instead she turns, gingerly, and brings her lit candle toward Riley's.
Once Mouse's candle takes light, Kavi places the last of the unadorned candles in the soil at his feet and takes his own candle as he rises again.
As the flame passes to her, Riley's candle sparks it's way to life. "On the outside, Flint and I… we weren't close. We fought… like, all the time. We got in each other's hair, frayed at each other's nerves. I'd poke at him sometimes just to get a reaction out of him. He frustrated me, because he wasn't where he needed to be yet, and I was vocal about telling him that." Riley glances down at the burial mound, her brows knitting, and she takes a long breath. "…Because I wanted him to grow, and I wanted to see him grow. I wanted to see him surmount all of the obstacles in his path— those nervous habits of his, those insecurities— because they reminded me of myself."
She lets a brief smile appear on her features, but it's overwhelmed quickly and fades back into a thoughtful expression. "I wanted to help him do those things, even if it meant he had a low opinion of me, because that's what being a family is about. It's about butting heads and never quite seeing eye-to-eye, but always wanting what's best for the ones that are in it, even if they don't always see it. Even if you… come on a little strong sometimes, and… uh…" Riley's eyelids rapidly blink a few times, and her lips momentarily purse. When she speaks again, she's far quieter.
"…you were always talking about the voices in your head, the ones from a past life, and… that gives me comfort, knowing that somewhere maybe you're chattering up some poor little kid, and maybe drowning out the ones that made less sense then you did." She smiles wide, and gently laughs, eyes slightly moist, "Or maybe you've just got another fresh start, and this time you'll buck that stutter and get out there and make out with someone, for Gaia's sake, and…" She clearly realizes she's running long, and takes a step forward, swallowing and taking a final, steadying breath. Her last words are all but a mumble. "You went too soon, you damned idiot. You had so much more of a candle to fill." The woman is quiet then, and offers the flame of her partially-etched candle to Charlene.
When Riley's flame comes to her, Charlene brings her candle close, the golden flame passing from one candle to the other, the wick sputtering, then blazing into life, burning strongly. "Flint was one of the first people I met when I returned, and he gave me a welcome that made me feel right at home. He and I… we had a good friendship. Not just sharing stories like Galliards were supposed to, but doing things that friends were supposed to do together." Charlene shifts from one foot to the other. "He always came across as a bit frustrated… that stutter of his showing up exactly when it didn't need to and often when he was most nervous, but he always made it through." She trails off, looking into the flame, her eyes shining, realizing she's re-hashing some of Riley's words. "Friends leaving the rest behind is always a difficult thing for those of us left behind. For the fallen, they're off on a great adventure that, when they return, can only strengthen them." She strokes the feathers on her candle lightly, letting them twist in the breeze for a moment. "I will treasure the times that I spent with him. I will remember the stories he shared with me and the way he persevered against the obstacles placed in his path. I will miss him greatly." Charlene bows her head and then offers the candle's flame to Ky.
As those before him speak of Flint, Ky makes his way toward the mound, quiet enough to not take away from the sharing. His candle is held up to take light from Charlene's flame. For a moment he's silent, staring at the flame dancing at the end of the taper. "I hate you," he says finally, with a twist of tone that changes the statement from scorn to brotherly fondness and a shared bond. Probably something only Flint would understand. "And I'm sorry," comes far more quietly, sober and earnest, as if he were speaking to his fallen packmate. Still looking at the candle's flame, he turns slightly to pass the light on to Lex.
"Flint was the first friend I had after coming to Hidden Walk," Alexandra says as she shares the light from Ky. "I could talk about the times we fought together, about our quest for the Beast Glatisant… but I'd rather share a dream. Flint and I appeared at a crossroads. We picked a direction, toward the open sky where we could see an eagle circling far off in the distance, and passed through a meadow that seemed to last forever, we howled our greeting to it, and then we found ourselves at the shore of a lake." She pauses in her story. "I never did get the chance to teach you how to swim," she says softly, rubbing at her eyes before she continues. "We made it out into the water, but then it turned the kind of cold that drained away your strength no matter how hard you tried to keep moving. We tried to imagine ourselves flying, then, since we knew things worked differently in dreams. It wasn't that much different, but we did manage to find our footing… on something's back. A dragon with blue-white fur, that flew through the water, and then flew up into the air. It asked us each riddles, and laughed with us as we managed to figure them out. We soared into infinity… that one shared moment of pure wonder and awe, before we woke, back in this world again. That's how I remember you." She chokes up, then, and falls silent, moving over to share the flame with Rina.
Rina takes a moment to notice, to turn and light her candle from that offered source. She is nearly expressionless, as she faces that mound of freshly-dug earth. "Fli—" At first there is no voice; she stills, takes a breath, and speaks. Not many people remember why, or how, but this voice is trained, eloquent, a far cry from her usual rough-edged cityspeak. "Flint was my son," she says in this new voice, weighted with emotion. "I claim him as the son of my heart, the son of my spirit." She steps forward, two steps in to close the distance to the edge of the grave; the candle in her left hand, she uses her right to push up her sleeve and then draws the Boker fighting knife from behind her back. Seven swift strokes, not terribly deep but firm enough to bleed, etch the tribal glyph into her forearm; her grip on the candle only tightens. "The son of my blood," she says, staying where she is until a few drops fall from her wrist to the dirt. "I ask you, Gaia, to give him more, when his spirit returns. Give him a sweeter journey, and a longer one. Let him know the love of this life, and let him be loved in the next. Give him guidance, and light his way with what we offer." Reversing the knife neatly in her hand, she wipes the blade on her thigh and closes her eyes, whispering words that are not for anyone to hear but the wind. It is only then that grief comes to her face, lashes darkening, tears breaking free to streak down both cheeks and catch the light. When she opens her eyes and steps back, her jaw is tight with it, her breathing irregular. But she turns to Kavi, offering the flame and looking up to meet his gaze for a moment.
Watching in silence, Kavi offers a single nod as each of the others gives their piece, but his breathing shudders as Rina speaks, and his eyes close until she's done. A deeper breath is drawn in as he accepts the flame and his gaze rests upon that bright spot. For a long while he is silent, as wax melts and rolls down the edge. The first piece of paper catches, fizzing to life with a brief shower of blue sparks, apparently coated in some chemical. His lips curve upward, briefly, and he nods to himself. "Flint was my friend. I wanted to protect him. I failed. He was my student. He was a brother to me, in tribe and more. We taught one another about family, and that's what we were." Shifting the candle to his left hand, he touches the small stud in his right earlobe. "I know… I know his time here mattered. He touched us, and we touched him. Requiem will be remembered, and when his spirit returns…" The galliard catches his lip between his teeth, and slowly lets it scrape free. "When his spirit returns, it will be with the added strength of our time together." He pauses again with a slow breath in and out to steady himself, and then slowly lowers himself to plant his candle a few feet from the first. "Howl, now," he says as he rises. "Howl his spirit home. And when our voices fail, we will let the sound and the light of the candles protect him and carry him as far as he needs to go."
Mouse steps forward— unbalanced, awkward, slow— and places her candle near Kavi's. She shifts as she steps back, a smooth transition up into crinos, where the light from the candles reflects off of the small piebald stag pendant she wears. She lets her voice sound first, a deep and mournful howl that lasts her full breath, with only the faintest of pauses for her to gather another.
Riley follows suit, easing her candle into the ground and then surging up to Crinos to join the howl with all the lung capacity that she can muster.
Ky sinks onto a knee to push his candle into the ground with the others. Then, pushing upright, he grows into crinos and joins in with his own howl.
Charlene's candle is laid on the ground near the others, wax trailing along the sides, highlighting the symbols. She steps back enough to be sure to not knock the candles over before shifting to crinos, howling along with the others, her voice melding.
Alexandra places her candle carefully, also spending a moment to push a small wooden disc into the dirt of the mound. "Can't have you leaving that behind," she whispers, then pushes back to her feet, already beginning the transition the war form so that she can join her howl with the others.
Rina lets the strength of those voices buffet her. Finally she drops to one knee to plant her candle firmly, the knife sheathed again at her back. Then she kneels and keens, a long outpouring wail of grief that mingles with the fiercer howling.
Kavi shifts, not to crinos, but to lupus, and settles close by Rina as he lifts his muzzle to join the howl.
Seconds become minutes, and still the mournful sound continues, until one by one the voices are spent and nothing remains but the not-quite-silence of the moonlit wood. The candles flicker, occasionally bolstered by a flash of color from another of the strips buried in Kavi's, but eventually even those are spent, and flames of the individual wicks slowly lower.