What happened.

[jeremiah_garou]

12 June, 2013
The moon is in the waxing Crescent (Theurge) Moon phase (28% full).

Evening finds Jer no longer out and about on a run in the park. Instead, the Gnawer ahroun's under a tree with a book and a piece of pizza and a water bottle, huddled into his jacket and by all accounts apparently enjoying his evening.

The Gnawer isn't the only one in the park this evening. It's on the path home for a certain Shadow Lord as well. Ky, hands in his pockets, grin on his face, and leisurely pace set, wanders along the footpath toward the more industrial area of town. And likely about to cross paths with the book-reading Ahroun.

Jeremiah isn't paying much attention to his surroundings, more attention to the book, but there's enough attention to notice the approaching Ragabash that he puts a finger on his spot before Ky gets there. Free hand lifts in a greeting, and Jeremiah seems to be in a decent enough mood this evening. Or at least, as much as can be told. He's not scowling, at least.

Ky's brows tick upward slightly. Obviously he was aware of Jeremiah long before the Gnawer saw him. Still, he's cordial enough, approaching but maintaining some distance. "Evening, Jermi."

The Gnawer studies the younger Garou for a long moment, then looks down again, shoulders lifting in a shrug that invites Ky to say something, while sparing Jeremiah from having to speak. Much. "Go on," he squeaks out.

Ky glances over his shoulder, the way he'd come, then back to the Gnawer. "What's got Salem so pissed off at me for," he asks, taking a step closer.

Jeremiah lifts one shoulder in another shrug. "I don't know," he answers. "But it isn't something I did. I have not seen Salem-rhya in months. What did you do?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking why he's angry with me." Ky shakes his head slightly. "I'll find out eventually. That aside, I've given thought to your… request."

Jeremiah nods. "If I think of it, I'll let you know. If it were something I'd done…" the ahroun shakes his head and quiets, looking up at Kyler. "I understand if you say no," he adds. The jackal-voice is just as ruined and painful in Russian, but there's clear thought behind the words, thoughtfulness that didn't used to exist.

"I should say no," Ky answers in easy English. "You know that." He sighs and looks up at the sky. "However," he continues, switching to Russian just as easily. "I've spoken to Nieve-rhya. She is wise, and I trust her. She asked what is the one thing that you could give me, the one thing that my tribe needs. You took away what my tribe needs and while you, specifically, cannot give it back you can help in easing it."

Jeremiah looks at Ky for a long moment, putting aside the book, and stands, to offer a hand to the other Garou. "I'm not proud. Of what I did when I was stupid," he says, returning to English, not as easy, but there. "What I can do for you, I will." Brows raise at the phrase, 'you took away', but the ahroun doesn't raise specific argument. The ahroun looks at Kyler. "Regardless of what I have done, I care. I wish you happiness, Tyler. If I can do something to help, I will."

Ky frowns slightly. Though it isn't a true frown but more of a slipping of his normally grinning expression. "I want to try to form an alliance between the Lords and the Gnawers. I'm only one, and the Gnawers have few members. It could be mutually beneficial. I hope it would be. I like Lefty-rhya, she's been fair to me. And even though she has every reason to hate me and not trust me, I want to show her that not all of us are evil and planning to backstab. What I ask of you is to… tactfully propose this to her and set up a meeting for us in a place and time of her choosing."

The ahroun nods slowly, thinking about it and mulling it over, but it's followed by another nod and Jeremiah re-extending his hand towards Kyler. "I will talk to her. She has every more reason to hate me as well. And yet she has been fair, and had me under her roof, and this will, hopefully, help everyone."

Ky nods slowly before reaching out his own hand to accept the Gnawer's handshake. "I have one other request for you, unrelated."

There's a longer silence after the handshake, and the response from Jeremiah is shorter this time but no less genuine. Perhaps to spare both of them. "Ask," he says, quieter, with an accompanying nod.

"What happened that night," Kyler prompts, looking at the Gnawer levelly. "When we left Broken Prairie."

"Sit please," Jeremiah responds, taking his own seat and reclining against the tree, the oversized jacket pulled around him. And this time, it's clear that he is not going to speak until Ky sits, as the waiting is patient. Even now, it's clearly uncomfortable as a subject, though there's none of the uncontrolled rage of the ragabash's cubhood. "I was on my Fostern challenge to take out a pack of Dancers, but myself and my pack were outnumbered and outgunned and it took us over a week. When we got back to the Sept house and the caern, it was overrun."

Ky sits once Jeremiah has retaken his seat. His arms drape over his knees and his attention fixes on the older cliath.

The story continues, all in the ruined Jackal voice that the Gnawer has clearly come to be used to, the occasional word accompanied by the same word in sign. "Then, I did not know what I know now, that Gerik was traitor and scum, and had betrayed the Sept, set up the challenge so that we were away and two cliath, not older than you are now, were in the city. While that happened, they attacked the Caern before my father the Warder had a chance to form a new warpack, while the Sept was vulnerable. We rescued—" Jeremiah chokes up, and sighs,

"We tried to rescue. There were seven of us, we were going to rescue the kinfolk, garou. You were in a cage they were keeping cubs in. Kris died fighting. I found out later that her own brother had turned traitor to our Enemy as well. Everyone else died fighting on the way out, or was too far gone to rescue. I didn't know what to do. Losing packmates, it hurts like having your soul torn out." That is something that they both know far too well, now, something Jeremiah doesn't need to say. "I… I was blinded by rage— for a long time even after I was exiled from here, too. You still being alive was the only reason I survived." There's an ironic little laugh from the Gnawer, and he continues, "That kept me from going in there and killing as many of them as I could before they killed me, because there were more of them, and I am just one ahroun, not a hero. I took you and when they were distracted, when they were distracted torturing someone, I ran, as far as I could and as fast as I could, and I did not stop running until I reached Colorado Springs. And every death at Broken Prairie is on my hands."

"I remember… sort of." Ky says after a moment or two of silence. "Parts of the attack. Parts of… the camp. I don't remember running, coming here. Just… waking up in the woods surrounded by unfamiliar faces."

Jeremiah takes a long moment to compose himself, anger and grief and rage clear in his face. "I don't know what they did to you, during the attack… If I could make them pay a million times over for it, I would…" There's a pause, and then the ahroun continues. "I went to a kinfolk I knew, got resources, kept running. He's dead now too. That's my fault as well. And I knew few Garou in the rest of the world, but I knew someone who is here. I needed help, and in being blinded by rage, did stupid things to get it, things that I am not proud of. I was so blinded by my grief and pain and anger, by that emptiness, that I did not see what was sometimes right in front of me. Whatever happened to you during the attack, you were exposed to the taint and the influence of the Wyrm, but Mouse-rhya did the cleansing ritual. That is when you woke up surrounded in the woods."

A muscle flexes, though Ky doesn't actually touch the scar on his arm. Some related memory, though so far buried he doesn't realize it. "It must run in the family," he says, looking away from the Gnawer, toward the fountain. "The anger and haste. Mouse-rhya and Kavi-rhya accepted my apology for my own mistakes, but I've got a ways to go before I've reconciled."

Jeremiah glances at the Shadow Lord for a moment, watching. "We all make mistakes," he says, barely a whisper and as gently as the punishment will allow his voice to be. There's silence, and then Jer returns to his normal volume. "Kaz… she gave me a chance when it, that I thought all I had left was anger. What I's did? I didn't do it to hurt you. To hurt… what Broken Prairie and too much of Thunder has become? Yes, but because it was the only way I could be at peace with myself. Because I never fit, really, and survival fits me better even if my raising… makes things difficult now. But I did my Contrition to Thunder, too. And I believe that what you want to show her is the truth. For you, at the least. After all. You're… still family."

"Not family." Though Ky offers the statement gently, there's a finality to it. "Kaz gave you a chance, and I can understand that and accept… I can accept alliance, and maybe friendship. Eventually. But I cannot accept the choice you made. Andrei left without saying goodbye and died. Everyone else I knew from Broken Prairie is dead. I'm all that's left, and I've got to live with the stigma that I inherited from everyone that came here before me."

Jeremiah catches his lip in his teeth and nods, and states quietly. "Okay. I can understand. I can accept. I do not expect your support of my choice. It is not your way, I know that. And I am not Andrei, nor am I Mikael Elliot Viktorovitch Tkachyov, nor could I be. That man died at Broken Prairie when his pack did, to a great degree. Everything else just was time waiting, time broken. Whatever you's call it, I'll respect. But know that I care, because those things do matter. That's something I've learned, that Rat teaches us, that family in whatever form matters. And it takes many forms. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry I left without ever saying goodbye. I was too angry. I thought it would be too painful, for both—" Jeremiah stops talking, shakes his head, puts a finger on his throat. It seems the ahroun's run out of words.

"It's unfortunate that you learned it too late." Ky stands and dusts off his pants. "Thank you for telling me what happened, Jeremiah. I need to get back to the Vault, but I hope to hear from you soon regarding my request."

Jeremiah just nods. "Broken Prairie didn't exactly teach it very well," Jeremiah says to the ground, but it's a comment, not a complaint, not anything else. "You're welcome, Kyler. And of course." There's tension that's accumulated in the Gnawer's frame now, as the book is taken from the ground and tucked into the pocket. "I'm around, and I'll find you wi' th' details."