World of Darkness World of Darkness: Attrition - ...And Everything Was Going So Well... [Fin]

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

[5:00AM 3 February 2009]

Descending from Topanga Park was always like delving back into a stew of sensations, and the pre-dawn of February 3rd was no exception. Long before she hit street level, scents of every variety - exhaust, garbage, lawn chemicals, rubber, pets both mundane and exotic, and the musk of uncountable humans - were carried to her incredible nose by the wind, drawn in by lungs that could thankfully not be polluted by the infamous Los Angeles air. Sounds that most people were so used to as to not notice clammored for attention in a confusing din in her ears. And eyes that could spot raised hairs on a rabbit nearly half a mile away were caught by the lights of over ten million humans in their endless quest to drive back the night that was her home.

But for it all, Sarah dived back into the world of Los Angeles willingly, even eagerly. She had completed another ordeal, and this one had taught her much about herself along the way. She now wished to put those lessons to good use in the hoped-for pack.

The barest bit of pink was showing in the eastern sky when the Dead Wolf made her four-legged way back into Holmby Park. She'd passed Declan's house on the way - it was hard to avoid even if she'd wanted - but duty (and his sleep schedule) won out: territory needed patrolling, and while she knew that her full-moon friend would have kept a sharper eye on it than she could ever hope to provide, there was nothing quite like checking things out herself. The morning sun was coming, but still nearly an hour off, and it was an hour well used assuring herself that Declan had indeed taken good care of her claimed lands in her absence.

When she settled finally to sleep in the soil beneath her favorite oak, it was with thoughts of packs - old and new - speaking to her soul.

~~~~~

[6:15PM]

Winter is a wonderful season for vampires, the long nights starting early. It was something for which Sarah was always thankful in those long cold months, though rarely moreso than tonight. Rising from her earthbound slumber, she made a quick hunt - dining on unwary human once more, the first in weeks - before making a beeline toward the corner of Hilgard and Wyton.

There was a definite spring in her step and grin on her face as Sarah walked up to a familiar door and knocked.

[Owns-The-Night]

From beyond the door came the strains of Aerosmith's "Eat The Rich" being played at a borderline anti-social volume. Even more borderline anti-social was the growling baritone voice that was accompanying the recording.

It wasn't that Declan had a bad singing voice. It was strong, in key, and had little trouble keeping time. It was, in fact, an excellent rock'n'roll voice. It was just that knowing the singer's true nature placed an uncomfortable or, depending on your viewpoint, hilarious spin on the lyrics, particularly when he started in on the chorus with obvious enjoyment...

"Eat the Rich! There's only one thing they're good for

Eat the Rich! Take one bite now - come back for more

Eat the Rich! I gotta get this off my chest

Eat the Rich! Take one bite now, spit out the rest!"

Sarah tried not to laugh as she knocked harder. The singing cut off and Steve Tyler's voice was turned down in volume a few moments before the door was opened. The smell of cooking meat drifted out from behind the grinning Rahu as, dressed in his habitual t-shirt and jeans, he gave the Dead Wolf a rib-loosening hug.

"Good to see you, frail! Come on in." The latter was a moot point: Sarah was already set down inside the doorway and being ushered towards the kitchen. "I'm makin' dinner at the moment, but you're welcome to sit an' watch me eat." Dec nudged Sarah forwards and closed the door.

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

"Ah, the joy of a shared meal with a breather," Sarah joked, following the Alpha-male down through his spartan home and into the kitchen. Sure enough, there was a traditional Declan meal in the offing: roast meat, with a side of meat, and what looked very much like a meat dessert.

"You know," she quipped, perching on the back of a kitchen chair as she did so, "I may not be the best person to consult on matters of diet, but I seem to recall this interesting stuff called 'fibre' from when I was still making full use of my alimentary canal. Might wanna try it sometime."

[Owns-The-Night]

He laughed. "Yeah, I heard about that stuff. Figured it might be worth a try sometime." He poured himself a drink of milk before pulling two large baked potatoes from the oven. "These with cheese and butter, and that's my fibre intake." He smiled as he sat down.

"So get comfy, girl. Tell me how it went!" He started turning the innocuous potatoes into steaming heart-attack food as he talked. "Did you get those pups whipped into shape?"

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

At mention of the pups, Sarah's face - already unusually cheerful - lit up like a kid at Christmastime.

"Dec, you'd not believe it, but those pups are a full-fledge pack now!"

With that, the Dead Wolf began recounting the tales of the Mighty Sonomas. She was not of the People, let alone a Cahalith, and certainly couldn't speak the First Tongue, but the tale she wove was one that was downright inspiring. From those first rough nights, to the telling of their individual tales, to the pack hunts with their failures, successes and unexpectedly very large game, all the way to the search for the glade and the brutal fight with the Balehounds.

"And she took charge Dec, right on que, upholding the Oath and sending the fuckin' Balehounds packing with tails between their legs! Leads-In-Trial earned the hell outta her name, and so did the rest. And the grove? You'll love this: it's the gravesite of Jack London. Can ya' believe it?"

The dead girl was so high at this point, anti-aircraft guns couldn't bring her down. "They're really a pack now, Declan. And being a part of that - even not truly dedicated to their totem - was just... hells, I can't describe how it felt. When we get this thing off the ground here, when we find a good totem and get all set, oh sweet Luna, it's gonna be great, you wait and see! Oh, and I've got a thought on that totem - Weave is still alone down there in Death Weaver territory, I think, and he's already predisposed to deal with me and Ariel!"

[Owns-The-Night]

Declan smiled as Sarah wove the tale, listening raptly as she told of the battle with the Bale Hounds, and finally setting his knife and fork down at the end and applauding her. His face sobered as she enthused about being part of a pack, his pack.

"You're right, girl. It is gonna be great. There's nothin' I'm lookin' forward to more than running with you." He sat back, a serious glint to his eye. "Thing is, Amber's still bein'... well, Amber."

As Sarah's face fell, her eyes studying his, Declan forged onwards.

"I nearly walked away from the possibility of a pack, y'know? But Ariel talked me round. She pointed out how hard this shit is for Amber, that everyone seems to be ganging up on her on your behalf without takin' time to consider her feelin's. I'd believe it too. You got some friends around here, and I'm one of them." Declan sighed. "She also got Amber to consider the possibility that you really are her cousin, not some pale imitation - no pun intended. To keep it in mind for the future that someday she could come around."

"Ariel's a good Elodoth." He said quietly, forcing himself to look Sarah in the eye. It was hard for him: the Blood Talon saw the Dead Wolf as a little sister, and telling her this truth was painful. "Amber promised she'd keep an open mind for the future. But right now, Sarah, she's got the right of veto on you joinin' the pack. It was that, or no pack at all." He leaned towards her.

"I got my own part in this too. I ain't givin' you up as a friend or a potential packmate. I'm just not goin' to make Amber choke on you. Even if it worked, she'd resent you and me both, and there'd be no pack harmony. But if I want you along on a hunt that involves your interests as well as ours, or want to hang out with you, or want to help you look after your territory, I fuckin' well will and there's nothin' to be said about it." His eyes were intense. "Same goes for the other friends I've made that ain't strictly 'of the People'. If I cut you out of my life on Amber's say-so, who's next? Morgan?" He shook his head. "Not fuckin' likely, girl. I've backed up on the issue as far as I'm goin' to."

"So you need to wait awhile to join. Wait for her to welcome you. It might not happen soon, but I think it'll happen. She promised an Elodoth she'd keep an open mind, and that promise will be remembered."

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

She'd listened quietly as Declan explained the situation to her. Explained how he looked forward to running with her... but not in the pack. Explained how she was his friend... but not in the pack. Explained how he'd work with her if "your" interests coincided with "ours". Explained how Amber made the difference, and the cut.

There was a memory, one of her earliest, that had haunted Sarah almost nightly for over two decades. It was early summer in the New England woods, the scent of pine strong in the air and mingling with smoke from a small fire. Shane sat by her side on the bed of pine needles that covered the forest floor, holding tight to her hand, brother and sister together. One of the clan, their great-uncle, shook a rattle and spoke in strange words, and the stern face of Grandma Wren look on from behind him. A final shake of the rattle, a few last words, and Momma started to cry.

It was on that day that the Wren family first stole Sarah's dreams.

Declan's words was just the latest iteration of what had become an established pattern of her life - both lives - wherein the Wren Clan took from her whatever she held dear.

Somewhere deep within her, the Beast roiled to life, demanding blood and death as a price for this dire insult. It pushed at the vampire's mind, knowing that a raging fury would bring it all it desired. But for all it tried, the shadow-self could not push past the sorrow that weighed down like the world itself upon Sarah's crushed soul.

When she finally spoke, it wasn't quite in a monotone. Monotones weren't up to conveying utter dejection.

"Oh." The word hung in the air, pathetic and small and somehow seeming to need a hug, much like the creature that uttered it. Sarah swallowed hard, and pushed on, not entirely sure why but doing so anyway. "I understand, Dec. Really. Pack is a core part of the nature of the People, and you made the right call."

It was strange, the way her body moved now as she slid down from the back of the chair. It was at once utterly smooth and yet devoid of passion, truly a dead thing mechanically following orders. "I'll get going then," she managed to say, forcing air past vocal chords that had no desire to function but were commanded to the task. "I know Amber well enough to know what this really means. Even if you don't. Probably that you don't. Not your bad."

The words were making less and less sense... and yet, somehow they did thread together a reality - or at least a vision of it - that Declan hadn't realized.

She'd come in by the front door, but the back was much closer, and the last thing she wanted her Alp-- no dammit, not my Alpha -- Declan to see was bloody tears. Making for the door, she choked out, "See you," and reached for the handle.

[Owns-The-Night]

"Hold it."

The words weren't angry, or loud. They weren't bellowed with arrogant expectations that they would be followed because she, Sarah, had no choice. The deep voice from behind the Dead Wolf was as calmly forceful as some monotheistic deity decreeing that there should be light. Large hands closed on her shoulders and she was pulled away from the door into a hug against a white cotton covered chest.

"You ain't goin' nowhere, frail." His voice rumbled in Sarah's ear. "You think I'm goin' to drop shit on you then let you run off alone to deal with it? Do I have 'Wren' on my fuckin' driver's license? See any Skolis-Ur marks around here?"

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

The hug was everything she wanted. Everything. And yet, she railed against it. Her spirit rallied against the comforting embrace, and Sarah pushed back even as she uttered, "No. No! No!"

Her eyes were ringed with crimson, the vampiric equivalent to watering, and bright rubies started to form at the corners. An anguished mixture of anger and pain twisted her features, and fangs were bared despite herself.

"I was raised by Storm Lords, dammit!" The voice was just short of a shout and deeply strained, sobs threatening to break through at any moment. "My weakness are mine alone, so leave me be! Let me face what I have to face how I always have: alone!" Desperate for escape and half-blinded by bloody tears, Sarah lashed out in the direction of the door with clawed hands, hoping to find the handle and flee to conceal her shame.

[Owns-The-Night]

He held her tight, broad arms keeping her against him even as his instincts warned him of the danger. He was reminded of Oneca, of the flames that started to burn him as he tried to comfort her. Dec kept his voice calm, giving it enough volume to carry over Sarah's. "If your Storm Lord upbringin's so damn important, though as to why I can't fuckin' guess, then you can just tear me apart and go." His words rumbled like a comforting growl through the undead body. "But you're my little sister, girl. There's no weakness in being sad and angry. And there's fuck all chance I'm lettin' go right now."

"Who our parents are, who our families are, doesn't define US, Sarah." There was something in his tone, a sense of knowledge and the sadness it engenders that cut slightly through her rage/grief/despair. "You define you. By your actions. As I define myself by mine. My mother was anshega, but I'm a warrior of the Tribes of the Moon. And I'm on your side till time fuckin' stops."

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

"But you won't be my Alpha," she managed... and those six words proved the straw to break the camel's back. The floodgates opened wide, and a red rain poured forth, soaking into and through Declan's shirt even as her hands - clawed no longer - dug into the back in a near-instictive bid for support.

Her body - so lean, so strong but seeming so very small and fragile now - was wracked by wave after wave of sobs, as a quarter-century of pain echoed from the remnants of her broken soul, telling a story that no tale woven in First Tongue could ever hope to match in sheer loss: loss of life, of love, of sun, and of hope.

[Owns-The-Night]

With a tenderness that would astonish those that thought they knew him, Owns-The-Night held the vampire close and let her cry, one hand stroking her hair. He didn't 'ssshh' or 'there-there', didn't promise everything would be alright. Her cold tears spread crimson through his shirt and over his skin as he pressed his cheek to the top of Sarah Dead-Wolf's head. The storm of tears went on for awhile, fuelled by the accumulated poison from Sarah's childhood heartbreak and all the trials and pains she had suffered since. Declan held her throughout.

As the storm became simple rain, her slight frame shaking less-frequently and violently, he kissed the red hair on her crown. "I'm your alpha in my heart, frail. Always will be. And one day I'll be your alpha for true. There's no wolf, dead or alive, better suited than you. People just got to see that for themselves is all."

"Besides." he leaned back a little and smiled faintly down at her red-stained eyes. "Give me a good head start and I'll be the alpha you deserve. I'm pretty new at this still."

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

Sarah didn't so much push out of his arms as sagged from them, managing somehow to connect ass with chair on the way to settle in a thoroughly wretched lump. The girl stared at the table for a long, long moment before looking back up at Declan. Eyes still ringed with crimson and face stained by bloody trails, she looked every inch the mess that she was at the moment.

"I understand what yer sayin'." For the first time, Declan heard the faint traces of an Irish brogue in her voice, though heavily laden with her native New England tones, apparently a remnant of the O'Neallys of old, something long buried beneath a thick wash of American Standard but now leaking up through the cracks. "An' know that it means much to me that ya say it. But I don' think ya know jus' how unlikely it is. Only way I'll be in yer pack is over Amber's dead body, an' I don' want that. She'll not trust me so far as t' admit who I am, an'll never trust me fer a packmate.

"I'll be yer friend. I'll be the mos' damn loyal friend ya've ever seen. But I'll never be s'close as my cousin, an' I'll hafta accept that."

[Owns-The-Night]

Declan sighed, pulling a chair over and sitting down next to Sarah. As an afterthought, he pulled off his shirt and handed it over. "Here, dry those peepers of yours." he smiled at her. "I'll burn it later."

"Listen to me, really listen." He leaned forward and caught her eyes with his. "I have faith in Amber. She's mixed up, she's angry, and she's dealin' with a lot of weird shit. You're just part of that. But I trust her word. I'm askin' you to do that too, and to carry on the way you've been doin'. You've been acing these damn trials, girl. You should be proud!" He put a hand on her shoulder. "One day, the People will be singin' the songs about Sarah Dead-Wolf and how she respected and loved the People so much that she put herself through purest hell to run with them. Amber will be in that song, but how and in what role is up to her."

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

As Sarah wiped drying blood from her face with what had been up until now Declan's nice white t-shirt, she did listen to his words. And she wanted to believe them. Oh, how she wanted to believe them!

But after a lifetime of being kicked in the ribs, believing that the owner of the boot was going to decide to offer a hand of friendship was just a bit much to take in one bite. As the last flecks of blood were more scraped than wiped free, she looked to her very non-traditionalist would-be Alpha and tried to figure out how to explain to him that sometimes, tradition died very, very hard.

And that was really what this was all about. Amber had been raised to never trust a vampire. So had Sarah, for that matter, and if she hadn't been brought into her new life the way it had happened, she might very well have walked into the sun the very next morning out of shame. How Amber would or could ever get around that was utterly beyond the undead member of the Wren clan.

And yet, Amber had run. Indeed, the blame - or the thanks - for Sarah's current condition could be laid at least circumstantially on the shoulders of the die-hard Rahu and her cross-country escape. Which could, Sarah realized, be part of the problem.

"Does..." she started, then hesitated. It wasn't the easiest of things to discuss, and any matter of Amber's pride or shame would be deeply buried in the young Storm Lord. But it was still relevant, and may prove a partial key to unlocking the mystery of co-existance. "Does Amber blame herself for me? Is that why she treats me even worse than Adrian?"

[Owns-The-Night]

"I don't know, Sarah." Declan shrugged. "She might, but she's not lettin' on. Or she might think that other people blame her, and resents that bein' heaped on her shoulders. For all I know, its both." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "I'd say that would explain it, though. She didn't ask for what happened to you to happen any more than you did. But now she has you turnin' up undead and she's bound to feel responsible, at least a little bit. Add to that the fact that you're a Dead Wolf, able to pack up with her, and she might well feel some expectations are bein' made that she ain't ready for."

Declan smiled faintly. "That's why I'm easing up on her. Ariel made me see that. It's sure as hell that Amber won't admit to being at all responsible, at least not at the moment. She's stubborn... Must be a family trait." He winked at the red-headed vampire. "I like stubborn women. They might be pure fuckin' murder to deal with sometimes, but you can count on them."

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

The laugh that fluttered out of Sarah's throat was half-hearted at best, her humour far from healthy at the moment. Much of her concentration - something that came hard after the Change, the passions of her clan and bloodline running hot in her veins - was on the problem of a possible guilt trip short-circuiting her efforts at making peace with her cousin.

"I don't know, Dec. She doesn't want me crammed down her throat, from what you say. But at the same time, someone has to tell her that this was nobody's fault but that of Luna, the desert and a cracked engine block. I'm convinced that I was brought into this for a reason," she said with utter sincerity. "It may not be what Amber - or even I - would call ideal, but something like me gives the People an extra tool. There's things I can do that you can't and never will, just as I'll never be able to do much of what you do. An' for the life of me, I can't believe that it was random chance for Juan to find me at that place and moment in all of the Arizona desert."

[Owns-The-Night]

He nodded, smiling at her. "You're preachin' to the choir here, sweetheart. I'm startin' to see plans and fate in everything, more and more, all the time." He sat back and shrugged. "I've had a couple of epiphanies, though. Amber, far as I can tell, hasn't. Trust me when I say that when she wants to listen, I'll tell her just what you said."

He reached over and snagged a mostly cold piece of steak and popped it into his mouth.

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

Sarah took a largely useless breath, letting it out in a sigh.

"Can't really ask for much more than that, I s'pose," she said, once again at least seeming a bit the Sarah Dead Wolf that he'd come to know. "That said, we've some practicalities to work out. Startin' with territories."

She looked around for a moment, and wound up grabbing a clean plate from the cupboard. Taking her seat again, she focused to poke out one sharp claw, and dipped it in the bloody juices starting to gel in the remains of Declan's feast. With surprising accuracy, she started to sketch out a map.

"Your pack has the campus, of course," she said, pointing at the tell-tale outline. "An' you know mine fair enough, in the range around Holmby Park." She extended over and made a vague brownish-red mark farther east. "From what I gather, Amber's is over this way, no idea how large, and has her locus. And I've no idea if Ariel even has anything more than her apartment, down here," she added with a daub of juice a bit south of the campus.

"As you might notice, I'm right smack in the middle of what would be your consolidated territory. That's going to take some care and trust to deal with, and even Amber's gonna have to be in on that. I don't wanna have to fight Declan's Rangers to defend what I've got," she said with a wink, "and would much rather have a safe-passage deal all 'round. Anyhow," she rued, "unless I suddenly have a cross-dimensional portal dumped in my lap, I still need a deal with you of some sort to keep an eye on the spirit-side of my turf."

Looking up, she asked point-blank: "Questions are this. What can I do to earn that continued spirit patrol from you, and will your pack throw a fit when I try to hold up my end of the bargain?"

[Owns-The-Night]

"We'll talk about that." Declan smiled at her reassuringly before looking at the impromptu map. "From what I can see, if we're patrolling the Shadow anyway, it's not much of an issue to patrol your part too. Hell, it comes under common interest. And we'll see if there's anything required in return. My immediate reaction is to say "Hell, call it even as long as you keep your place clean in the real world.", but maybe the girls might have some ideas to make things fairer."

He sat back up again. "One thing I ain't toleratin' is any talk of drivin' you out. So set your mind at rest on that. On a related issue, you up for goin' after that nest in a few days time, say the 8th? We've got mages and werewolves galore lined up to give whatever's hauntin' that locus a real housewarmin' party. We could definitely squeeze a vampire in." He smiled at her. "For that matter, maybe Hunt would like to see it too. Been thinkin' he's a curious type, and it'd be an educational experience for him. And none can say he doesn't have an interest in what happens hereabouts. What do you say? Feel like askin' him on a little adventure date?" Dec's grin was infectious.

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

"I think that I already gave you my word that I'd help clear out this nest, Dec," Sarah said, a bit of her earlier glee starting to re-emerge. But just as quickly, that joy was quashed and her face fell. "Except for one problem. Amber. And the rubbing of me in her face thing. Ain't this awful short time before throwing us together an' seein' if we play nice?"

[Owns-The-Night]

"We'll see how that goes. I'm hopin' she'll see the value of you as an ally in battle. And you did kinda help me arrive at the conclusion regardin' the Azlu nest. So it could be said that you have a certain right to come along." Declan shrugged. "Besides, if I'm takin' Morgan and the Prof along: yeah, Titus is a mage, it turns out. As I was sayin', if they're along, surely there's no beef with you and Hunt turnin' up."

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

"I think," Sarah said with gravity, "that you're going to find out that Amber's beef with me extends a long way past me not being of the People."

She sighed, looking back at the impromptu map again before meeting his silvery gaze once more. "But I'll be there. Not 'til after sunset, 'course, but gimme place an' time for the rally, an' I'll be there."