Maybe you're the metaphor. You've thought of that. The Umbra is the shadow of Gaia, but the physical world you occupy is also just an echo of what She is. Neither of us see the real thing. What would happen if we did? You reach out, understanding, finally grasping the true nature of the threat that wai
No. You are straining because I am making you strain. But I no longer have the strength I once did, and can no longer write my desires into the book of the world. I cannot make you what you need to be. I cannot make you see the truth.
But maybe we can get a little closer to the truth right now. And if nothing else, someone needs to clean up that mess in the woods behind the Speedway.
That's a good point. Of course it is, I thought it.
The storm-colored cat hops off the brick wall and starts cutting through the woods. You shake off the snow covering you and stamp your feet.
The spirit turns and beckons for you to hurry. She looks tired and thin, with patches of missing fur and blood on her paw pads. No, I…do I really look like that? Great Gaia, you're right. Once, I shamed the sphinxes, haunted the dreams of tigers.
And you don't have many chances left. You've failed twice tonight: first when you failed to kill the rider, then when you let Black Tarn kill the traveler. What will they do if you fail a third time tonight? If you can't learn something to help your wounded packmate?
"That's bullshit, cat! I killed the Bane, and I did my best at the Speedway!"
"If you're trying to teach me that my elders are wicked, I don't need your instruction. I know."
"If I were a less trusting soul, I'd think you're deliberately turning me against my fellow Garou."
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