Clay's eyes calculate, as if he's unwilling to reveal certain things to you.
"The Stormcat spoke to you?" he asks. "You saw her?"
"I saw her, but she didn't speak. She…"
"The Stormcat is a powerful and dangerous spirit, a herald of Taranis, the Thunderer. And I fear she has work for you, boy. But don't believe the spirits, Tavypib. They do not want what you want. They don't care about the Garou anymore. Be wary. And don't let yourself—"
He starts coughing, and he doesn't stop, even as his intestines swell more and more, leaking sticky white pus over your bed sheets.
Scarper crashes into the room, red-eyed and bloody-fingered.
"What did you do to him?" he shouts.
"I told him about the Stormcat," you say. "He knows who—"
"Shut up and move," Scarper says, shoving you out of the way and running to the ahroun. But he's no healer, and you don't see Black Tarn.
"He can't help!" Clay roars as his muzzle rots, exposing yellow bone. "He never helps!" The old werewolf's flesh boils and he thrashes, overturning the bowl full of cigarette butts and splattering ash on the carpet. Then he closes his eyes and slumps down into unconsciousness, wheezing pathetically.
"Get the fuck out!" Scarper shouts at you, shoving you out of your room. You stumble through the trash-strewn hallway that connects your room to the living room and the kitchen. You can see the yellow van through the dusty horizontal blinds above the faded sofa.
An Erie County sheriff's office police SUV is parked next to it. Maybe someone traced the dead trucker here, or found evidence of a dozen other things Clay's pack has done over the years. Two cops get out of the SUV, stomp their boots in the snow, look around. One points out the van, but they're not in any rush.
It's time for you to go.
Wait, your thoughts? No, it's me again. Your friend from the caern east of here.
The Stormcat sits on the dirty sofa, paws folded daintily. Over bangs and shouts from your bedroom, I remind you that there's nothing for you here. And I think you know where to go.
"Are you manipulating me, spirit? I don't like being controlled."
"What's waiting for me there?" I need a spirit's wisdom.
"I can't leave my pack!"
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