Northrop National Park Moon in your eyes

[Evan Saaranen]

Evan Strike Roll : 8d6 (full moon)
5 passes

When Evan was a kid, his Gramps showed him 'the bunker.' His grandfather was certain that any day now the 'Rooskies' were gonna start the bombs and that old man had spent a tidy sum building a large enough bunker to safely house him, his wife, their kids, and their grandkids, with plenty of food to spare. It was a labor of fear and love, reinforced concrete, and good old American paranoia.

Evan's gramps died never seeing those burning lights on the horizon that he still thought could mushroom up any day now. The bunker was never used for its intended purpose.

However, when Evan moved in with his Grams after his 'accident' he did find one use for it. Because the entrance for the bunker was big enough for a grown man to enter while the inside was just barely big enough to fit, hypothetically, a monster bear.

The bunker was the perfect cage for Evan to wait out his full moons safely without worrying that he would hurt his Grams or anyone else.

The bunker was his safe place.

At least it was supposed to be.

But Evan wasn't really in control as a bear and while the bunker had done well so far each shift and push of the dire bears powerful muscles had been weakening the bunker. And tonight was the last push.

Evan let out a huffing roar and slammed his back against the banker's roof while lifting. The ground shook and then gave. From there it was over an hour of aggressive clawing and snarling as he dug himself up and the once secure bunker became a sinkhole of rubble.

The bear looked toward the small light of the house he stayed at as a human. Something soft touched the creatures eyes for a second, before he turned and started lumbering into the woods. In search of something to eat.

[Max Kuryakin]

Attunement, complete success
Strike, smell, failure
Strike, hearing, exceptional success

Very rarely did Max venture close to the lightly forested areas that were the outskirts of Northrop. Tonight he'd only done so by accident, following his nose in a circling trail after a buck. He was doing it carefully, taking the time to follow the trails and consider what he was doing, rather than simply charging in and ramming into the buck and ripping its throat out. There was an art to making something look like it had gotten killed by wolves rather than an 8-foot werewolf. Mathus was also around him, joining the hunt or keeping him company.

But tonight, that art was coming to him with some difficulty, his nose instead leading him straight to a skunk nest, and, although he avoided getting stink bombed, he still caught their terrible smell. Despite the flash of rage, an agonised snarl escaping him, he withdrew rather than have the blood of some poor varmint on his hands because he hadn't been paying attention. He shook his head, rubbing his nose against wet moss and fragrant pine needles to get the terrible smell out of his recent memory.

Max heard the screech of metal bending and giving way as he snorted and gouged into the soft forest floor with his bulk. He immediately straightened, head swivelling towards the sound. It was in the far distance, his hearing extending for miles, but it was suspicious and too human for a full moon run. Strange in a forest, too.

With a chuff, the sharp exhalation deep as he held back the urge to make a louder noise, Max turned to look towards Mathus, ears swivelling to perk forward on his head, quietly checking in with the other werewolf.

[Mathus Dascălu]

It was impossible to miss the flash of rage over their mutual concordance, but as the horrifying skunk stench seeped into the air, Mathus couldn't help laughing. Being a giant quadrupedal wolf, it wasn't much more than a short series of wheezy coughs, but his lack of sympathy for his fellow wolf was all too clear. As Max tried to wipe the stink off on the moss and pine needles, Mathus was so overcome with hoots of laughter that he had to lie down in the nearby underbrush, tucking his nose under a paw, some analog of pressing his hand over his mouth.

The giant wolf was still chuckling when the rumble and crash reached them, and he went silent and alert as well. Then, ears swiveling in the direction of the noise, the sable wolf's great head swung around to meet Max's look, the silent question hanging between them. Did they want to go check it out?

Mathus could pass for a wolf if he shrank in size. Max could not, but he could probably stay hidden with his dark pelt. It wasn't curiosity that had the older wolf nodding but an odd sense of duty. They didn't keep territory, not in any official capacity, but he felt charged with caring for the place so long as it was their stomping ground. Perhaps it was nothing, but it sounded like something had collapsed. What if they were the only ones around who could help?

Nodding, Mathus pulled himself onto all fours and shook out his pelt. Trotting over to Max, he lifted his head to try and touch noses with him but immediately recoiled. Another hoot of laughter burbled out of the wolf before the pair set out after the disturbance. They could make quick time, their long loping strides quiet.

[Evan Saaranen]

Evan Strike for Scent tracking: 8d6
2 passes = Partial Failure

Evan in his bear form, bear Evan, or Bevan if you will, wandered the woods with hunger and an admittedly grouchy disposition. The beast was not a fan of the concrete box it had been held in and was all too pleased to finally escape. The creature huffed and growled ots way through the trees, in one case very literally as it pushed over an old half-broken tree that somehow caught the monster's ire.

When the faint scent of something familiar touched the air the bus-sized bear came to a halt and tilted its head trying to make sense of it. A smell he recognized but mixed with something he didn't. Unsure what to do with it the monster circled a time or two but in the end Bevan was unable to find the trail.

With yet another grun of annoyance the bear simply clawed at a near tree, a mark of territory, and kept lumbering on.

[Max Kuryakin]

Strike (Preternatural Senses) Complete success

The nod told Max that Mathus had understood his unsaid question. Whatever the sound was, checking it out was probably the smartest choice. The wood was not their territory, they weren't mindless animals who took possession and chased all comers out, but there was a sense of belonging and responsibility. This was where they spent time, carefully masking the trails they made and enjoying the freedom during the full moons and other times they shifted here.

If it was something human, teenagers fucking around or something else, they had the means to pass by unnoticed. They had sharp enough senses to tell if humans were around or if it was some big beast.

Although, Max could do without Mathus' laughing, drawing his muzzle back in a playful snarl at the laughing wolf. And, as they set out, he heavily bumped his side into the other wolf to knock him off balance before he bounded ahead. Playful, despite them seeking out something strange and unusual.

Max kept his head high, drawing breaths through his nose as he scented the air, trying to catch the hint of something. He found tracking enjoyable, nose in the air and ears perked, listening closely. He filtered out the noises he and Mathus were making, catching the sound of breaking bark and cracking wood. Focusing on the noise, Max huffed out an acknowledgement to Mathus, rasping out a low, “This way,” as he changed his direction slightly towards whatever was terrorising the trees.

[Mathus Dascălu]

Strike to stay upright, extraordinary success
Strike Preternatural senses, complete success

The growl that erupted from Mathus' chest as Max shoved him might've sounded terrifying, but it was all play. He withstood the knock from the heftier hybrid, giving chase and nipping at his heels as they took off.

With their ears perked and their noses to the wind, the pair of wolves closed on the sound of breaking wood and shifting undergrowth. A particular scent tickled at his nose, and as Max roughed out directions, Mathus nodded but noted, with a mote of uncertainty, “It smells like... bear?”

As always, though his voice was deep and bestial befitting his form, it emerged clearly and without his mouth moving. Still, despite his uncertainty, he was close on the other wolf's tail, instinctively fanning out as they moved through the trees--better chances to flank whatever they were after, even though a bear had a very distinct scent, and this was... man bear. Other shifters were a much dicier prospect.

[Evan Saaranen]

Preternatural Senses 7d6
1 pass = Failure

Evan continued to mark a few more trees as he lumbered along. He had forgotten about the faint scent that started him on the direction and instead was rolling over logs and rocks. When he spied a particular bounty of grubs he would slam down his paw and rake at the ground. Then lick up whatever he managed to get from his clawed hand. As per usual, this massive bear cared much more about the idea of food than anything else.

Evan pushed at the ground and lifted himself to his back legs. He was towering and even under the thick fur his muscles were evident. They almost rippled as the were-bear flexed them in a familiar rhythm that Evan himself did regularly to tense and ease his muscles before activity. It was almost an unconscious habit, one that Evan would be very annoyed to see his bear side use. He liked to think of Yogi and himself as perfectly separate after all. No need to have reality get in the way of any of that.

[Max Kuryakin]

Strike (Preternatural Senses) Exceptional success

“Yes,” was Max's rough answer, voice dragging over gravel as his unnatural mouth tried to speak, even as he kept moving to reach the shifter they were trying to find. “Familiar? Evan?”

He'd never seen Evan as a bear, but he'd caught the scent on their first meeting. It subtly changed when shifted, but there was enough of the familiar scent there for Max to feel like he had positively identified the other shifter. He'd even mentioned the man to Mathus in passing.

Was the bear all there on this full moon? That thought had the werewolf slowing down, huffing out at Mathus as he wondered about the best way of approaching a shifter who possibly had a hair trigger.

[Mathus Dascălu]

Finally, they were able to see something moving through the brush. As the bear stood on its hind legs, rising to his full misshapen height, Mathus' ears flicked flat against his head.

The wolf had to reach past the clamor of lupine thoughts and urges to recall the name. They were hunting near enough as a pack, even if it was a pack of two, and the wolf was enjoying himself. Evan, Evan, Evan... He was able to follow the thread because the connection between the name and the animal was strong. The bear Max had met some months ago--freshly turned, was he?

As Max glanced at him, Mathus rose from his prowl and sat back on his haunches, ears flickering back and forth with uncertainty. This would be the third afflicted shifter he'd met in Easthaven, but Mathus was still cautious about the whole thing. They were still shifters but a breed apart in a lot of ways. He didn't know what to expect, and the natural-born shifter had a broad streak of caution.

“He seems unharmed,” the wolf whispered. Which would be a fine reason to leave it alone. “Unless he destroyed something while coming this way...”

[Evan Saaranen]

Animal Senses Strike 7d6
4 passes = Complete Success

The dire bear shuffled its feet a bit as it balanced itself on its back legs, its back muscles tensing and flexing to maintain the posture of its longer than average upper body. The monster tilted its head slightly and its own small round ears flicked slightly. Just once. And then the beady black eyes of the creature narrowed. Its upper lip pealed back to expose its long yellow teeth while its lower lip drooped low to expose the bottom fangs as well. It let out a long low growling breath and rolled its shoulders as it squared up in the direction of the voices it had just caught on the wind.

It didn't understand the words but voices meant someone was near by and the bear didn't like having someone close but not seeing them. It began to contemplate just ramming the trees and barreling them down in fury when it finally caught the scent again. Familiar... canine scent... The bear tried to think about where the smell was from and why it remembered it... hallways... people? None of that mattered... why did he remember this- Chicken Parmesan sandwhiches! The monster fondly remembered the meals shared with the other shifter. The wolf. Evan seemed to calm down significantly as the vague memories flooded his animal mind.

He he huffed a bit as he stopped baring fangs and leaned forward. His front paws slammed heavy against the ground- less an act of aggression and more one of sheer mass- before the bear made a happy sound. It was deep and breathy but friendly all the same. Then the bear began to paw over toward the smell he recognized. He didn't recognize the scent next to Max but he knew Max. and all the best memories of Max involved food. So odds were good the other shifter would have food with him, right?

[Max Kuryakin]

Max caught the growling after Mathus had spoken, considering leaving and returning to their hunt rather than meddling with someone out of their mind. Knowing himself and his triggers, avoiding trouble on a full moon was always the smartest choice.

Max stepped closer to Mathus with a low grumbling murmur as his ears flicked back and forth, uncertain about what they were about to meet. No humans around, no smell of blood, and nothing to worry about beyond the growling. But even as Max shifted closer to the other wolf, the growling faded into huffing breaths that Max associated with curious bears about to take campers' food.

“Evan?” Max tried, the word coming out rough but cautiously curious.

[Mathus Dascălu]

Cinder Concordance, complete success

Mathus felt it when the monstrous bear's huge paws hit the ground, a thick reverberation in the earth that shuddered through his paw pads. He tapped his paws in place, the sheer size of the other shifter putting his hackles up.

Max pulled his attention with the low grumbling murmur and lifted himself to all fours, pointed ears up in interest. The other wolf's body language looked undecided. With a low rumble, Mathus tacitly cast his vote, and his body angled toward the deep woods and the promise of fresh meat and other adventures. He'd yet to prove it, but he was sure that he'd seen hares made of moonlight bounding through the high meadows and wanted to know what would happen if they caught one.

But his fellow wolf made the other choice, and it did not occur to Mathus to leave him to it alone. Sensing Max's curiosity and assuming he cared for this bear, Mathus turned back, jaw cracking as he yawned. Better to not surprise Evan. He waited for Max's cue to step out from the underbrush.

[Evan Saaranen]

The bear's head twitched to the side at Max's use of his name. Sniffing the air a few times, the monster bear just made a contended chuffing noise in its throat. He was too young by shifter standards and afflicted to boot. He had little rational control and was a complete slave to instinct this night. The bear eyed the other wolf that seemed to be keeping distance, which was fine to the monster Evan as he didn't know that wolf yet. Normally he might even try to eat it- but it was with Max and he liked Max. So instinct said to wait and see on that part.

Evan sat his massive body down and pawed at the ground as he watched the two wolves.

Both of their ears would be sensitive enough to note the rumbling of the bear's stomach as he waited to see what they would do. He seemed content all in all, but as often seemed to be the case when Evan was in his human form he always seemed kind of hungry.

[Max Kuryakin]

Max turned to look at Mathus, the other wolf interrupting his departure for a moment. It was possibly the best choice, as Max flicked his gaze back to Evan. Or the bear who Evan sometimes was. There was little reaction to the name, but the bear wasn't aggressive. It spoke to some thought behind those empty eyes, even if otherwise, no one was home.

Snorting, his breath misting in front of his nose, Max swung his head to look back where they'd come. Their hunting would be more lucrative in the deep woods, further away from the city. He glanced at Mathus, eyebrows going up in a way that read well on a wolf's face. A nonplussed kind of expression. What would they do now? There was nothing to do except carry on what they'd been doing. The bear wasn't going to hold a conversation.

Decision made, in agreement with Mathus', Max began moving back where they'd come, creeping through the underbrush as he began retracing their steps.

[Mathus Dascălu]

After a moment of indecision, Max seemed to agree. The older wolf huffed, happy for that--what else could they do? Evan was not conscious inside the giant bear, but he also seemed quite content to linger where he was. So it was better not to disturb him and let him continue with his evening.

As he turned to follow the other werewolf, Mathus caught the gentle grumble of hunger deep within the bear. He glanced back over his shoulder, ears flicking up with interest. Eyebrows lifting, his mouth opened into a little smile, and then he tipped his head in a tacit invitation to follow. If Evan picked up on this somewhat human gesture and could keep up, maybe the bear's instincts would come in handy during a hunt, and he could satisfy his hunger.