A couple months
ago.... "Come on, Fury! You want to learn
how to fight like a real warrior or not?"
Darren, the Get Ahroun know to his pack as
Tears-at-the-Wyrm, taunted harshly, an insolent
grin perennially on his heavily Nordic features.
The Black Fury snorted in contempt at him. "What
I want," Liza replied coldly, "is to be left
alone. Especially by an asshole like you." The
stunning, young brunette rose and stalked off to
head inside, yet halted just paces later when he
called out, "Maybe you liked gettin' a dose of
what power really is from that guy who raped
you. Get a rise out of it? I bet you really
wanted it." Liza turned, eyes narrowed, bitter
and frost-cold. "Fine. You want some of what he
got? Come and get it."
Darren smiled ferociously and stalked
over, circling her, forcing her to turn
constantly to keep track of him. With a sudden
surge of speed, he burst forward, driving a
meaty right fist towards Liza's face. However,
her face, surprisingly, was somehow just not
there when the fist reached its target point;
even more surprising was the booted steel toe
that insinuated itself smartly into his groin
instead. With a hoarse yowl, Darren doubled
over, the pain blinding him, but not deafening
him to Liza's dark, derisive rebuke. "Can't say
I didn't warn you, asshole. You had that comin'.
At least I didn't cut off that stub you call a
dick, like he got. Now leave me the fuck alone
before I do."
Liza turned her back on him and started
to walk away; a costly mistake. Darren bellowed
in his pain and intolerable shame and
humiliation, consumed instantly by his Rage, the
unbridled frenzy that was both his heritage and
undoing overtaking him. He shifted forms as he
hurled himself onto her back, a gray-furred
maelstrom of brutal fangs and rending talons.
The woman managed a startled, frightened squawk,
then no more. Tears-at-the-Wyrm raised a
guttural victory howl as the heavy jaws closed
around her throat and ripped, sundering the very
life from her in one jolting neck-turn, her
blood streaming from his cruel jaws.
***********************************************************************
The Bone Gnawer known as Billy to men,
but as Stands-His-Ground to his pack, arrived,
and climbed off his motorbike. He look to where
the others were standing and saw the corpse they
were looking down at. "Fuck, who the 'ell did
this?"
Edgerider turned a deceptively mild gaze
upon the so-called victor, as the pack gathered
around he and Liza's body. "I think you have
some serious explaining to do, Darren," rasped
the Alpha's ruined voice. "I'm sure there's an
astoundingly good reason why you felt the need
to chew a new, but no less loyal packmate, into
bloody strips. Something worth her life."
Billy then noticed the look in Darren's
face. "Shit, Darren....have ya’ completely
fuckin' lost it?"
Before the Get could answer, Steel, who
had been watching from a treetop, leaps forward
just as Edge started to speak. He had been back
with his pack less then a week, and Darren had
already been steadily picking on him, too. Steel
felt little pity for him, and he had genuinely
liked Liza, even though she shunned men, mostly
… He throws back his head, and emits a somber,
low-pitched howl. It echoes through the woods;
the profound feeling of grief and lose is
evident.
Darren narrows his eyes at Billy, then
Steel, after which he snarled his response in
turn; "Bitch had it coming. Nailed me in the
balls. Besides, she should have known better
then to mess with an Ahroun under a full moon."
The rest of the pack growled and muttered
disapprovingly amongst themselves, as they
looked down upon the rent carcass that once was
their packmate, Liza. Clearly the tone said he'd
gone too far, but they held their peace, leaving
actual judgment to Edgerider, but the
condemnation was clear in their eyes. All save
one, who could not bear the sight in silence.
A sharp voice rang out, from a
small-boned, somewhat Native American featured
young woman with long dark hair. "Well, are you
happy now, you murdering bastard? Couldn't even
fight her face to face, jumped on her back like
the bullying coward I've always known you really
are." Isabeau Navarre glared up at
Tears-At-The-Wyrm, him easily twice her size,
seemingly without the good sense to be fearful
of him.
Darren growled at her, temper flaring
sullenly but easily back to life. "Fuck you,
Isabeau. Didn't you hear me? The bitch kicked me
right in the balls with a steel-toed boot! And
then laughed at me, on top of it. She should've
known better, damn it! Besides, this is pack
business, you are not even Garou. Or kinfolk or
mate to one." His gaze upon Isabeau was more
bitter than any other of his other detractors
and judges; she never stopped reminding him of
the mate who betrayed him... her sister. It
showed in the hate in his eyes. "You are just
like Alex," he tersely snarled at her, goading
her. "And probably as much of a dyke as Liza
was. You think your money can buy all your worth
to a pack."
"Always the woman's fault, isn't it. Why
don't you just say she was asking to get raped
while you're at it, you abusive pig?" Isabeau
spat the words at him, staring defiantly up into
his face, her lip curling in a twisted sneer of
disgust and hatred. "Maybe that's why Alex
dumped your sorry ass. She was afraid she'd be
next one day! Just like Liza! Nothing, no one,
is sacred to you! Why don't you hit Rae next,
get two for one!" Raisa shoots Isabeau a
withering, betrayed look, her ruddy face going
ashen in shock.
Another, calmer, grizzled baritone voice
raised quietly above her vicious din, "Isa, I
would really shut up right now, if I were you.
For your own good, not because you are
necessarily all wrong." The Pack Beta, Olaf,
cast her a stern but well-meant warning glance
from beneath heavy blonde brows, and shifted
slightly, watching Darren warily, shoulders
tensed as if still expecting some more drama.
"Shut up? Why the hell should I? Because
someone's a fucking bully? The question is why
aren't more of you speaking out against it? You
guys can't turn your back on your own pack! I've
spent three-quarters of my life in silence while
people did wrong! I've shut up for too damn long
to keep doing it just because someone with a
little dick and a big ego might throw his toys
and have a temper tantrum!"
At that moment, words would not truly
capture the primal vision that flashed through
Darren's mind, but a good approximation of the
spirit of it might have been, "Enough is
enough." With a bull-throated roar of raw fury,
he launched himself at the frail, birdlike
woman, even as Change overtook him, his body
morphing into a living extension of his anger,
claws extended to rend, jaws slicked with
slaver. No doubt, much like the last sight Liza
saw before she was delivered before her time
unto Gaia.
Billy sprung into action, shifting
immediately in hopes of coming between Darren
and Isabeau. However, a fraction of a second
before Darren could lay his strike upon the
now-cowering Kinfolk, an impact in his side
hammered him suddenly off-course, leaving Billy
bounding to the side and past the group.
Edgerider, his towering form a rugged road-map
of scars from a hundred battles far more brutal
than this one, glared mercilessly as Darren
tumbles a half-dozen yards sideways under his
own momentum, from the unexpected body-slam he
delivered against Darren’s flank.
The Get scrambled to his feet, and with a
howl of frustrated rage, launched himself at the
elder Garou, defiant of his Alpha, teeth
snapping like steel traps as he lunged, aiming
for Edgerider's throat. But, instead, they
closed around Edgerider's meaty left forearm,
which he rammed forcefully down Darren's open
jaws with all the force he could muster, wedging
the bite before it could fully close.
In the same movement, he stepped inside
the reach of the ripping talons. Darren tried to
clamp his jaws down, and drew a grimace of pain
from Edge as he did so, digging three-inch fangs
into muscle and thick-furred hide. Nonetheless,
he managed to accomplish little more than
leaving angry, oozing gouges in his Alpha's
muscular arm, as the man's massive clawed right
hand closed below the base of Darren's skull
A sharp, wet snap, like the whip-crack
noise of a green branch bent past its tolerance,
rang out, as Edge gripped the younger Garou's
throat, using the leverage that Darren's own
clamped jaws gave his forearm, to break the
Ahroun's massive neck. The younger Garou dropped
instantly, his body reverting to homid before
hitting the ground with a meaty, collapsing
thud. Edgerider straightened, subsiding to his
less-massive Glabro form as a pungent reek
quickly filled the air; the sharp, cupric tang
of fresh blood, the musky smell of fresh sweat,
and the meaty foulness and acrid ammoniac stench
of a spent body voiding itself.
In a voice freighted with command,
Edgerider spoke to his pack, his words guttural
from the coarse shape of the throat of his
bestial form, and tight with controlled pain. He
turns his savage visage upon Isabeau, still
shaking a few feet away. "You. Get out before
your mouth gets you killed, too. Don't come back
until you've learned to control it." He raised
his right hand to gesture at her, making his
lack of blame upon her clear while keeping his
urgency intact. "Hear me now. I am thankful, as
are we all, for how you have helped us when you
did not have to. And that is why I do this: so
that you don't end up dead, like you almost did
just now. It is too dangerous for you to live
among us like this. Now go!"
Steel bows his head in shame. He had
thought his Rage would have been a lesson for
Darren. But this was far more then he had even
done. He shudders… he could almost feel the Wyrm
turn his gaze to focus on these events. He knew
now that he was right to return, and to try to
learn to master his Rage, rather than let it
master him as it now controlled and damned
Darren.
Edgerider then glanced down with a look,
equal parts sadness and contempt, at Darren's
crumpled, soiled naked form, twitching and
bleeding at his feet. He raised his gaze to
Olaf, second in authority over the pack. "And
when he's able to walk, throw him out on the
street and let him start walking it. Warrior or
not he may be, I cannot depend on someone who
cannot control his temper enough to more easily
avoid harming innocents. If he holds no value or
love for his pack... then it holds none for him
until he learns respect. I will not put our
lives in the hands of someone like that."
The elder Garou then lumbers off into the
woods, to heal, and to privately ponder the dark
cloud that has fallen upon his charges, leaving
them in stunned silence to mourn, their howls of
despair buoying him on his way.
After the edict was passed, Billy shifted
back to homid, and watched the unmoving form of
his now former packmate. Frenzy could overtake
any of them, but as it seemed, Darren's control
over his instincts was slipping away from him
more and more.... he believed that throwing him
out would only do things worse, but he knew no
one in this pack could look him in the face
without remembering what he'd just done and
tried to do. He knelt for a long while beside
Liza, deep in reflection of how his own pride
had pushed him from the pack before… and the
lives he had also cost for it.
***********************************************************************
"You threw him out?!" Vhorn, the pack's
third Get of Fenris, asked sharply, his query
weighted with disbelief. The long-haired young
man stalked back and forth, rock-star ringlets
whipping about his visage at each turn of his
pacing. "I mean, all right, he over-reacted. But
the Fury should've known better, I mean,
everyone knows he's on a short fuse."
Edgerider, his forearm wrapped in a
crimson-spotted length of white cloth, looked up
at him frostily, night-black eyes cold as space.
"If he'd been sorry, I could've forgiven. He
wasn't. He defended his actions, and then he
repeated them. There can be no forgiving without
repentance, and without change."
Vhorn shook his head, china-blue eyes
saddened. "I don't know... I just don't think I
can handle that, knowing I'm part of something
that threw out part of my family, my tribe, for
something that wasn't even really his fault."
Edgerider looked upon him with something close
to pity as he spoke.
"If that's the way you feel, I won't make
you stay here, Vhorn. I think it's foolish. I
think it's misguided, but it's your choice to
make.. and learn from." The grizzled elder
watched in silence as the young Galliard packed
his things and called for a cab.
They say that Gaia’s defenders live in a
dying world, marching to a lost cause…