Pushing away memories of your First Change, you sniff the air and look around. Nothing but swirling snow, and the horse and rider picking their way past the dead trees. It's time to act. Clay says you've disappointed him twice before. He says he wants you to really join the pack, but not as a failure. Not as a burden. Everything you've done these past few weeks has led up to the destruction of this monster.
You chose this night for a reason: the same moon hangs in the sky as the night of your First Change. A moon that gives you strength and focus. That defines who you are as one of Gaia's champions. The Garou. The werewolves.
No moon anyone can see, but I know it's up there. New moon, new beginnings, the auspice of deceit and cunning, of new ways and secret paths.
A crescent moon above the treeline. Horned moon for the horned gods of the woods, the auspice of sorcery and spirits.
A half-moon, high in the sky. Half mortal, half wolf; half flesh, half spirit. Balance and clarity; the auspice of judgment.
A huge gibbous moon, like a madman's eye. A howling moon, auspice of mad tales and wild tale-tellers.
A full moon, burning down on me bright as the sun, fueling my Rage. Bright as steel or fire: the auspice of total war, the sign of destruction.
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