14/01/2006
Rainbow Lake
As she has been for the last few days, Veronica is in wolf form, padding around the lakeshore nearest the longhouse. Her fur is ruffled and stiff with mud in a few places, and her muzzle is wet from a recent drink. Her body language is completely under her control now, her tail hanging low behind her, her head held low as well. Her nose works constantly, as do her ears. She could almost pass for a wolf hand-raised by humans. Near the lake is a 'scratch pad' where the cub has been practising several glyphs. Most of the Litany is there at the moment.
Jacinta comes up along the trail by the stream. Despite the moon, she seems calm, though close observation would reveal that to be false. There is tension in her neck and shoulders, and the way she holds her arms by her side, rigid and purposeful. Still, when she spots the cub, she smiles, and it is genuine. "Waqaa, Ingtaq!" Her voice carries, echoing across the water.
Veronica vibrates with sudden energy when she hears the elder's voice. For a moment, she capers where she is, body bowing sideways with the efforts of wagging. Then, she spins herself in a circle, tilts her head back and howls gleefully. The cub sprints for the elder, nowhere near as awkward as she was when she was left such a short time ago.
Jacinta crouches down, to be more on level with the cub, and holds out a hand toward her. "Ii. You have been learning much. I am pleased. Cangacit, cub? How are you?"
At first, all Veronica does is yip, wag and try to lick the Ahroun. When she calms down, she prances back and forth, shaking out her ruff. Circles was mean. Cries-No-More talked, taught Laws. Met Older Brother, Bison pack, Circle Keeper. No go near female-with-pup, wolf all the time, no scare. Circles ate the salmon. Learning scratch-talk, learning from Cries-No-More Alpha, was good, was respectful, was respectful, submitted. Good cub. Good cub. Bad at wolf. Good cub. She wags and rubs against Jacinta as she encapsules the good and bad of the last few days.
Jacinta ruffles the cub's ears as she gives a sharp nod, indicating her pleasure. "Ii. Assirtuq." She glances toward the trail she just came up. "Wait," she says, and disappears once more.
Veronica obediently sits, tongue lolling and her ears askew as she watches the elder disappear. She gives a few leftover barks, mainly out of excitement, then starts cleaning her paws with manic intent. Must be presentable for the elder, or somesuch.
Jacinta returns reasonably quickly, a brown paper bag under her arm. "Come, Ingtaq Cetaaq. This is for you." She sets down the bag so that it falls open, blue cloth visible within. "You have done well. Your first learning is done. You may choose when to be homid, and when to be wolf, unless your teacher gives other direction."
Veronica runs nearer, pricking her ears and sniffing in the direction of the bag. This one has changed, she admits, ears tilting a little guiltily. Before...two nights. Three nights, she amends as she counts back. When wolf was new. This one has been wolf all other times, she is quick to assure the elder, her body language screaming apology.
Jacinta does not appear to be outraged by the news. She merely nods and juts her chin at the bag. "You have learned your first lessons. You may choose."
Veronica shakes out her ruff, then slowly shifts to homid. Self-consciously, she uses her hair and hands to 'preserve her modesty', hunching a bit to cover herself better. She reaches for the bag tentatively. "What is it?
Inside the bag is a full set of clothing, underwear, jeans, and a long sleeved t-shirt. There's also a pullover style jacket that looks like it would do a decent job of keeping one warm and dry, though it lacks a hood. None of these items seem new, but they do look about the right size for Veronica, perhaps just a little bit big. "These are clothes," Jacinta says, her expression teasing. "Until we have performed the Rite of Dedication, be certain to take them off before you change forms, or they will be lost."
All pretense of attempted decency is lost as Veronica grins and all but dives into the bag. She dresses with great haste, giving a sigh of relief as she pulls the jacket on. "I will," she assures the elder. "When do I get to have the Rite of Dedication? Soon, or later?"
Jacinta's expression clouds, her face growing flush. "It is a rite I have not yet learned. When one is found who can perform it, I will ask." She kneels, resting on her heels and hands setting on her thighs. "Do you remember I said that we were part spirit and part flesh?"
Veronica drops to a cross-legged sit as well. "Yes?" she says, her grin faltering a bit.
Jacinta nods slowly. "Assirtuq. Well, the Rite of Dedication can make an object part of you, part of your spirit. We do it with clothing because we do not wish to risk being without, but it is usually something we reserve for items of special meaning." Her hand slides down to the knife on her belt, caribou antler hilt smooth under her fingers.
Veronica's eyes follow the hand. "Does the knife have a story?" she asks quietly, wrapping her arms around herself and burying her fingers in her shirt. "Or do I have to wait to hear it?"
Jacinta glances down at her fingers and selfconsciously releases the knife. "It was made by me. I honor its spirit every day and so it serves me well." She lifts her gaze to the sky. "Soon," she says, "I would like to take you to the Umbra, the spirit world. Perhaps you will be ready when the moon once again wears the face of your birth."
Veronica follows the elder's eyes, indeed, almost every motion Jacinta makes is unconsciously copied by the girl. "What do I have to do, and learn, to get to go?" She lowers her eyes to stare at the elder's face.
Jacinta considers the girl's question thoughtfully, and for a long while she does not respond. Finally she says, "Continue, Ingtaq, as you have been. There are still many many things for you to learn, and if you continue as you have been, you will be ready for this lesson."
Veronica tilts her head to the side. "Ing...taq?" She shifts around to her usual 'learning' posture. "What does that mean?" She scratches at her ear.
A sly grin forms at the question, and Jacinta's eyes narrow with humor. "Ingtaq Cetaaq is you. It means Fledgling Little-Bird. It is your cub name. When you have grown into a mighty warrior, you will earn another, a name fit for an adult. This is the name I have chosen for you."
Veronica sticks her tongue out at Jacinta, the pout turning to a grin before she giggles. "Ingtaq Cetaaq." She pronounces it perfectly on this second attempt. "It's because I talk too much, isn't it?"
Jacinta's eyebrow rises at the appearance of the tongue, but she lets it slide when the girl grins. "You talk a lot," she agrees, "but you are like a fledgling bird in other ways, as well. You learn and grow quickly. Your name reflects this. You are Ingtaq Cetaaq, Fledgling Little-Bird, Galliard Cub of the Wendigo."
Veronica's head bobs a bit, the habit of submitting remaining even in homid. "So that's what I tell people now? Instead of...well, I didn't know what to say, so I told them everything when I was in wolf." She combs her fingers through her hair. "Fledgling Little-Bird. Galliard Cub of the Wendigo." The name flows nicely from her mouth.
"Ii," the Ahroun answers. "It is who you are."
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