NWoD Fiction: Soul-Searching

[Timeslip]

[Note: the following is an edited version of a soft-roleplay thread from another forum. The bulk of it is my work, but others did participate and contribute.]

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lamar...thank the gods.

The last time Sarah had ventured to this city, there was nothing to remember about the trip; she had slept in a body bag in the back of Thomas' car while his ghoul Danielle did the driving. "And that's damned well how I'll do it next time, too," she muttered to herself, "'cause I'll be lucky if this thing gets me back to Columbia." Five long hours on the road of listening to the gearbox bump and grind had been thoroughly nerve-wracking...and the long-since malfunctioning fuel guage that showed a permanent quarter-tank meant all-too regular fill-ups along the way; the last thing in the world Sarah needed was to run out of gas on some remote stretch of Highway 54.

The Slant Six beneath the hood of her ancient '78 Aspen roared along as confidently as ever, but the transmission ground in protest as she down-shifted for the turn-off coming up, worn gears shedding a few more shards of tired steel as they finally settled into second gear. As she took the turn, the bright lights of Lamar - a city that never really went to sleep, a sort of Vegas of the Midwest - swung over to the passenger window as Sarah guided the old beast down just the sort of road that a vehicle in as bad of shape as the decrepit Dodge should avoid like the plague.

Gods, I hope he'll talk to me about this 'Circle of the Crone' thing....

The dashboard clock was a hair shy of three a.m. -and at least a good ten minutes slow, she reminded herself - as she finally rolled up to the rusty yellow-and-black Dead End sign and killed the engine; it dieseled for half a minute or so, as it had after long drives for the past couple of years. Finally, the tired old warhorse coughed for the last time and fell into a rhythmic ticking, making music with the crickets in the thick underbrush and woods beside the overgrown lane that was generously called a road. The door gave a rusty protest as she shoved it open - a sound that had been part and parcel with the car as long as she had known it - and Sarah pulled herself out of the car and planted her boots with a crunch on the decaying remnants of macadam.

She shoved the door shut behind her with another squeaking groan and a heavy thud, and checked herself over briefly. There wasn't a lot to check; surplus army boots laced tight, sturdy if worn denim jeans sewn up from their latest tears, an equally sturdy and worn denim jacket over a T-shirt, her pentacle cord drawn tight enough to be a collar around her pale neck. She worked the car key into a buttoned pocket without undoing the button, took a wholly unnecessary deep breath, and headed off down the trail that lead - if she remembered it right - to the place that Dallas' pack called 'the campfire'.

As she walked through the woods, two wolves appeared along the path and paced her a short ways; they looked at her and seemed to nod in greeting before they ran off ahead of her.

The light of the fire glowed out into the woods before the clearing itself came into sight. Stepping into that clearing she could see Dallas seated on a log on the far side of the fire. He glanced up at her with a half smile.

"Good to see you Sarah," he said. "How's things you're way? "Take a seat?" he asked.

[Timeslip]

The wolves had been a welcome escort to the fire. Even before becoming what she was now, wolves had been near and dear to Sarah's heart; now...well, in her own way she was striving to be one. To some degree, that touched on why she was here.

"Things are things, Dallas," she said with a slight shrug as accepted the offered place on the well-worn log. Looking him over, she could see small changes in him, even from just a month ago; if anyone was 'becoming' the wolf, it was the old Gangrel. "Things are...well, they've been better. And that's more or less why I'm here."

She paused half a moment, looking in his deep eyes for some hint of a reaction, some glint of foreknowledge of her current pursuit. After a second, she decided that she might as well put it all on the line. If anyone had ever taken an even-handed stance regarding the covenants to her, it was Dallas; hopefully he would have some good advice. "I'm missing something, and it took me a while to realize that it was my spiritual path. My old spiritual path," she amended, and almost absently fingered the silver pentacle at her neck. "But it's not like I can just go find some local coven to circle with; the element of trust would be missing, at any rate, and most people who follow the old ways these days do so through rose-colored lenses."

She sighed, and then laid out her card. "I'm looking at the Circle of the Crone, and I'm looking at it pretty damned seriously. It's pretty close to what I know from before, and...well, I always found the Crone aspect of the Triple Goddess to be close to my heart. But I just don't know enough about how Kindred deal with it, and that's why I wanted to talk to you. You've seen a hell of a lot, and I'm hoping you might have some advice for me about this, Dallas. Advice that doesn't necessarily come stapled to a religious tract or a political platform."

Having said her piece, she waited, still staring into his eyes, trying to read what was going on in that ancient mind of his.

Dallas gave a half snort but nodded anyway. "Reckon I have seen a bit," he said.

"Crone huh?" he paused, thoughtful. "I'll lay this on the line for you. Kindred fuck shit up. That is what they do, it is part of the nature, balancing their beast with their human side, and flowing back and forth.

"The Covenants, each has their good points. Each has their bad. Crone is as good as any other. Seems to me though, your heart is already telling you what the right choice is. At this time, the Crone is the path for you. That might change, might not," he shrugs, looking deep in her eyes.

"I went Ordo, it lined up with my purposes at the time. Now," he looked off into the woods a moment, then back to her. "Now it don't matter as much. The path is easy, just walk it. One foot in front of another. One step at a time. But follow your heart, don't get caught up in the parlor tricks. Each covenant has their own selection of them. That is not the reason to follow a path. Not with your soul."

Sarah gave Dallas the first genuine smile to come to her face in the past two weeks. "You see, this is why I come here to talk to you," she said with a grin; "you don't mince words, and you call it like you see it."

She picked up a small twig and gave it a soft toss into the fire, watching the flame catch. "And yeah; I've seen a hell of a lot of fucked up shit in the past couple months. Seems we have a real talent for it. But then again, so do most other people I know. Different reasons, mind you, but still thoroughly fucked up.

"Can't say I'm much interested in the parlor tricks, either. I'm looking for something that can get me back in touch with the goddess...and I think you're right: I've already set my sights on this as the way to do it. Still, I wanted to hear your straight talk before I did. Hell, it was your straight talk that brought me into this life in the first place," she said with a smile and a wink.

"So how the hell have you been, anyway? I haven't been down here since that whole godsawful mess at Regina's club. Is she healing up OK from that?" There was genuine concern in Sarah's voice; she remembered all too well the bloody roman numeral carved into the woman's forehead, remembered cobbling together a poultice for the gaping wound in her chest. To this day, Sarah wasn't sure if the concoction had done any good for the maimed vampire's undead body, but at the time, it had certainly seemed a better option than doing nothing.

,,

Dallas shrugged. "Well enough I reckon. We are healing, licking our wounds, looking for the leak," he says. "I have some ideas about what happened, but finding definite answers is still out there. That was no VII attack.

"You adjusting to this lifestyle? Find you a good place to hole up and all that?"

[Timeslip]

Dallas' assertion that the attack on the club called Utopia had not, in fact, been the work of VII caught Sarah by surprise. It wasn't as though there was a solid way in which the fake DEA raid could be positively confirmed as the work of the vampiric equivalent to the boogey man; VII was an ephemeral thing, and damned near every Kindred she met had its own theory on what the shadowy organization - if it really was an organization - might be. But given how the attack had occurred, it certainly seemed plausible as VII's handiwork from what little Sarah knew; it had been an equal opportunity raid, with those of every clan and covenant in the crosshairs (literally; Sarah had taken one hell of a wound from a head shot while lined up against the wall).

However, there was no point in arguing the matter with her host. First of all, he was her host, and calling his assessment of the matter into question would be damned rude (and perhaps dangerous). Second, Dallas had been walking the earth - and specifically the earth around Lamar - for much, much longer than had Sarah (alive or undead). And third, the very nature of VII made the matter impossible to debate to any real satisfaction; trying to do so would be about as informed as the debate regarding the nature of the Loch Ness Monster...and every bit as futile.

It also helped that the old wolf changed the topic pretty damned fast. "I'm doing pretty good with the lifestyle," Sarah replied. "I've been over to St. Louis a few times; there's a good sized pack over there. Nice to hang with other Gangrel...well, Gangrel other than Brainpan, anyway." She briefly considered talking about the problems with her sire, but when it came down to it, those weren't the sort of problems that Dallas could really do anything about...or should, for that matter. "There's a pretty nice little watershed south of Columbia that I've taken for my own; all the deer I can eat, and I go to ground wherever feels right when the sky starts getting pink. Speaking of which, would you mind if I went to ground somewhere around here when morning comes? I'm not much for motels, and...well, the ground is about the only closed space I can really stand anymore, so the trunk of my rolling wreck is pretty much right out."

Dallas nodded. "The woods are yours to use," he said, motioning around him. "Plenty of prey to hunt, my wolves will not bother you, you are a friend to them as well."

He shifted slightly, picking up his flute from under the log he sat upon. He raised it and played a short run on it, very obviously a piece of Native American music.

"St. Louis huh?" he said. "Haven't been there in years, lots of them. I should travel more, like the old days. Used to wander around the country for a lot of years, playing at being a nomad."

Sarah chuckled a bit at that. "Heh...I'm enjoying the travel, too. Even with my crappy car, I like getting around and seeing different places. Hell, if the old heap is still running then, I'm think about taking a drive out to Kansas City in a week or three; I keep hearing about this Gangrel prince up that way, and I just have to see how that's working out," she said with a grin.

"And thanks, by the way. I really do appreciate you letting me have access to the local game and local ground. I'll be careful, and only take what I need."

She watched the hypnotic flickering of the campfire, listening to the haunting sounds from her host's wooden flute. It was something that she didn't yet dare try back home; the woods she was calling home were, in theory, the property of the State of Missouri, and building a campfire in the middle of them struck her as a dandy way to bring park rangers and dogs and all manner of trouble. But there was something altogether comforting about the flame - from a safe distance, of course - and the echoing notes of the flute. It was a reminder of the few good times with her old family, of those times when she was a part of the pack, if only for things far from the core of their existence.

"Would you mind if I stayed for a couple of nights, Dallas? I... I can't say I'd mind the company of a pack for a little bit."

The old Gangrel paused and looked at her, then nodded. "There is plenty here. Many acres to run, all owned by me, protected by the Pack. Stay away from the Creek though overly much. That is Aspasia's territory, hers alone to allow access to, not mine."

"Fair enough, and thanks." Those were the last words of the night; the little time that was left was filled with the crackling of the slowly waning fire, an occasional touch of song from Dallas' flute, and the other small sounds of the woods as the wee hours drew toward morning.

Finally, as a touch of pink started to filter through the trees from the eastern sky, Sarah pulled herself upright from the old log seat and continued to reach upward in a long stretch; as she relaxed from the effort, she gave her host a simple nod that spoke volumes of thanks and trust, and then she turned and walked off into the deep woods...and into the embrace of the protecting Mother to sleep away the day.

[Timeslip]

The fiery day-star completed its appointed rounds, sinking dutifully into the west, and as it did so a weight was lifted from Sarah's undead heart. The oppressive slumber passed from her in a wave of what she had come to think of as new life...and with it came hunger. For safety's sake, she lingered for several minutes more; then, as if the unliving earth truly was a Mother, she emerged from the earthen womb, senses already keen for the surrounding wildlife, already seeking a meal.

It didn't take much time; a doe wandered close to her little corner of paradise, and with skillful steps the young Gangrel was on the creature before it even knew she was there, drinking deep of its gift of life. Fortunately for all involved, Sarah's needs were small this evening; the doe would stumble off weakened but alive, would return to its herd and mend over the coming week to be good as new by the time the rutting bucks were ready for her, eager to make their own contribution to the great circle of life.

Sated and warm, Sarah made her careful and quiet way back through the forest, to see who would be at the fire circle...to see what companionship, what family, might be found with the Pack.

The haunting notes of a wooden flute told Sarah of at least one member of the pack before the fire's light revealed the rugged features of her host. "Ev'nin', Dallas," Sarah said as way of a greeting as she stepped quietly into the flickering glow. He gave her a slight nod, but continued playing the tune he was working on. Only after a moment did she notice the stargazer lying still against the night. "And ev'nin' to you too...Belle, right?"

Upon hearing Sarah speak, Belle snapped out of her daze and sat up. "Yes, that is right. How are you doing this evening, Sarah? I haven't seen you since the night of the attack. I hope things have been well."

,,

Sarah returned Dallas' nod before doing likewise toward Belle, settling onto one of the log seats as she did so. "I've been fair, Belle. After putting myself back together from that bloody mess, anyway. Been wandering here and there, and now I'm here again for a couple of nights. It's good to be around a pack," she finished with a smile, as she took up a longish green stick and carefully prodded an errant log back into position in the fire.

Belle smiled back at Sarah, then turned to look at Dallas. "Yes it is good to be around a pack again." She turned back towards Sarah. "So you say that you're here for a few nights. What brings you back?"

"What brings me back? In part, I wanted to pick Dallas' brain for some advice...advice that, sure enough, he had at hand." Sarah turned a thankful nod toward the ancient musician once more. "In part, I wanted to see how folks down here were doing after all that crap from last month. And in part...well, this is as close as I have to a pack, and it's something that I cherish...even for the very short time I've known it."

A familiar form caught the corner of Sarah's eye...a familiar form, and another that was nothing short of exotic, as she turned to take in the sleek lines of the beautiful cougar and the face of the animal's undead friend, as Regina and Peschewa, moved into the edge of the light, finding a spot near a tree to sit. Standing, she stepped lightly over to the pair, contemplating how to greet the woman whom she had last seen as a bloody and torn victim of beatings and torment. She finally settled on a smiling nod, as she crouched down beside the big cat. "How are you doing, Regina?"

Before the newcomer could answer, a pair of nearly weaning pups rolled down the hillside and crashed through some of the underbrush as they tumbled into the clearing. Despite the snarls and yips, It was easy to see that the "fight" wasn't isn't a fight at all, but a playful wrestling match. The larger of the two pinned the smaller one down and quickly took the small one's head into its mouth - though it was obviously careful not to bite down. The smaller of the two froze in submission and waited to be released. His wait was not long in the coming and soon the two were quickly exchanging caring licks.

A trio of wolf bitches entered the clearing from the same direction as the pups had come from, and in short order two of the females had the pups by the scuff of their neck; with little pause they turned with their load in mouth and returned to the safety of the den.

The third wolf seemed to be the leader of the trio, but remained after the others left the light of the fire. Turning to the gathered mass, her eyes scanned the group. When they fell upon a guest, Tessa quickly transformed back to her normal state. "Forgive my manners. How are ya?"

[Timeslip]

Even as she knelt beside Regina and the gorgeous young cougar, Sarah watched the tumbling display of the young wolves. She watched the approach of the matrons of the lupine pack, the motherly display of the smaller two as they took their young back into the woods. Finally, she watched the strongest of the three shimmer, shift, and become the tall and slender form of Tessa. And through it all, Sarah's eyes burned with one clear, unmistakable emotion: envy.

The green fury waned somewhat at Tessa's words - not completely, but enough. "Not bad, Tessa; not bad at all."

Tessa furrowed her brow a bit in confusion, but moved to sit on a log regardless. "What has brought you our way this fine evening?"

"Heh...that seems to be the question of the day. In short, I came to get advice from Dallas, but will probably stick around for a night or two because I like the company. Feels good to be around a pack. Though...." She trailed off for a moment, and her eyes focused past Tessa in a thousand-yard stare.

After a moment, she refocused on the woman and gave a half smile. "Don't mind me; I just wish to hell I could do what you did when you came into camp."

Tessa looked even more confused. "What, be a Den Mother?"

The half-smile held - barely - on Sarah's face, but her eyes went back into that distant, wistful stare. "No," she said, so quietly that it was almost a whisper; "to be a wolf." Her eyes came back to Tessa's, and the longing in them was so strong that it was almost painful to see.

She gave a deep sigh, and shook her head, looking down at the ground. "It's what I've wanted for my entire life...both lives, I guess you could say. I know it will happen someday; gods, there are times when I can almost feel it, like it's at the tip of my finger, just barely out of reach." Sarah's eyes had closed, and her hand was almost reflexively reaching out, her fingers straining to touch, to grasp, to pull to her core whatever it was to become a wolf.

Her hand clenched into a fist, then relaxed as she opened her eyes again, still looking at the ground.

"Ya've learned ta haven in the soil... right? Well it is the same thing. Just takes a bit more practice is all. Focus on that part of the blood that ya use for your claws and becomin one with the soil. Will yer blood ta change ya into what ya desire. Master it."

Tessa smiled encouragingly and motioned with a nod and her hand to give it a try.

[Timeslip]

Sarah looked at Tessa with something that mixed liberal doses of disbelief with a dash of hope. Could it really be that simple? She had tried before to force the change...tried, and failed. But that had been so soon after the Embrace, so soon in her new life; could it really be that simple now?

She took a deep, unneeded breath behind closed eyes, released it in a slow whisper, then focused on her outstretched hands. The blood within her roiled at her call, diffusing some small portion of itself almost as a mist throughout her body, and the familiar black points appeared at the ends of her digits - bare dots of ebony at first, but lengthening to glistening claws after half a moment.

This was the point at which the wonder usually stopped...but tonight, Sarah would not let it rest as such. She pushed, forcing the blood out toward to the surface of her skin, visibly shaking with the effort. A clamminess came to her that she had not felt since leaving her old life behind; only belatedly did she realize that she was sweating vitae from her pores, a slight sheen of it soaking into her clothing. In her mind's eye, she could see what she wanted to be, could feel wind on fur, could almost taste the scents of the forest.

And there, in that moment of focus and desire, the barrier was finally crossed. Her blood-soaked clothing drew tight, denim pulling against - and then into - her skin. Her back arched, and she fell forward, hands splayed on the ground while her feet felt grass and dirt through leather boots that were no longer there. Sinew shifted and reformed as muscle and bone were radically transformed, and her vision went to black and white behind eyes that were now yellow on deep, deep black. There should have been pain - she knew this, in the part of her mind that was still thinking on a rational basis - but there was none; only deep elation as fur caught the wind and as scents came to her as vivid and clear as a portrait.

She drew deep breath, then let fly a howl that made clear to every creature - alive or otherwise - within range that there was a new predator here; that a new wolf walked the land.