I am not a warrior but I fought. I am not a killer but I killed. It is my place to teach wisdom to the foolish warriors but I am a fool and I have been shown wisdom by those I am supposed to teach. I am the imperfect mirror. I am the trickster, full of life and yet I bring death to all around me. I try to protect and harm those I am protecting. I have seem friends fall fighting their allies and I have seen enemies standing back to back. I have been a pawn on a chessboard and I have seen the Beast Courts dancing to a tune played by a Kindred Prince. I am not worthy to draw breath but I am needed to tell the tale of one who no longer does.
I have stood in battle with true warriors and seen them fall, sacrificing all just for the chance that the rest of us might gain a slender chance to live. I knew him as Mutt, a coyote. I am sure he had many other names. I have sworn at him, behind his back and to his face. He laughed at me. In the end, it was he and I, fighting to kill that which could not be killed. Teeth, claws and even a fetish blade were not enough to bring down an enemy made of the blood of a thousand devoured children, children that had fallen to the Wyrm even as they lay weak and scared in hospital beds. Where they should have been safest was where they suffered most and it was in the halls of MacMaster pediatrics in the city of steel that we brought the thing to battle.
It was Mutt, shameless show off and fierce defender that cast his life out on his own voice to bring about the creature's end. I have never heard such a howl, not at any Moot or from any Garou. Mutt's howl rose and the wind rose with it. The howl grew bigger than he was and yet Mutt continued to give voice and coyote howled with and through him, lending him strength. His howl tore the world, ripping it apart and all things caught within the sound begain to shred like cloth.
I seized the creature, even though it's very touch burned like fire, so that it would not be able to flee. I pulled it with me into the Umbra, knowing that the teeth and claws of that howling wind would reach it even there and if it somehow managed to survive, it would be trapped but such an act was not necessary. The creature could not have escaped the fury of Mutt's voice.
It was then that I learned Mutt had given his life to slay the beast. I saw him standing before Coyote and heard Coyote praise him. I heard Coyote laugh at me and say that I was not supposed to be standing beside one who had made such a sacrifice. He gave me blessing and cast me back so that I could finish what was yet unfinished and bring honor to Mutt's brave act. My tale, such as it is, continues but Mutt's ends here and if there is justice in the world, this tale of Mutt shall be told long after the story of Nicky Dingo comes to an end. Coyote though he was, he fought with all the courage and honour of the greatest Arhoun and I will sing his song and praise his memory for as long as I have breath to do so. Were there a thousand like him, the Wyrm would tremble and Garou would chase their own tails out of frustration. Such was Mutt. Warriror. Trickster. Coyote. When next I howl the Dirge of the Fallen, some small part of my voice will howl for him as well.
I'm going to be doing a lot of howling. Most of the Black Furies are dead, killed by the soldiers of Department Seven and the Empress of the Beast Courts. I'm fairly certain she's no fan of mine (big shock). I don't think she liked being called "a vampire's bitch" or a "backstabbing bitch". The vampire's bitch I'm not so sure about because I still think it was the bloodsucker's calling the shots but the backstabbing bitch isn't really appropriate. Yeah, she did stab the Black Fury alpha in the back but that stupid bitch turned her back to take on Silver. I think I might just leave that part out when I pass the memo on to the rest of the Black Fury pack. Silver didn't know what was going on and stuck her fangs into the middle of it. I got into the battle too late to do any good (big shock). I lashed out at whoever was closest. Just my luck that it was the Empress, some big ass spotted Bastet. I'm not sure what specific breed she was. Silver probably saved my life by tackling me. I thanked her by chewing on her throat. She's still alive. I threw her at the Empress and stepped up to her. My sense of self preservation finally came back from vacation and I backed down but not before demanding that she admit stabbing an opponent is the back. Probably not the wisest thing to do (big shock).
Babadora came sauntering in, just like everything was hunky-dory, followed by Skyler and the rest. There were a few harsh words thrown around by more than one person. Crickett was finger painting in blood again, so maybe there is a chance that things might get back to normal. In a decade or two, after a shit load of alcohol and some electroshock therapy. Our base is under an old mental hospital, after all. They probably still have that equipment stashed in some old forgotten storage room.
