View source for Moonlit Ritual (Laine)

{{Cutscene Header
|Date of Scene=2012/08/01
|Location=Earth-776
|Synopsis=Still stinging from Viridian's death curse, Laine begins the long process of sharing the sorrow of a dead world.
|Thanks=Viridian Sunrise
|Cast of Characters=383
|Tinyplot=Long Live the King
}}
The swirl of pestering spirits did not concern her at the moment, common as they were these days. The wolf was dedicated, limping up the narrow slope in a zigzag fashion that left her panting, even Laine's mystical stamina challenged between the lingering injuries and the arduous climb.

<<Little One, you could have taken a Bidge directly to the summit. We do not mind.>>

One of the wind spirits was pestering her again. Laine just snorted. She didn't bother with a straight answer, not this time. Climbing the metaphysical mountain was part of the Ordeal.

<<It will be easier in the coming moons. Every moon, I will be doing this again. Get used to it.>>

Her thoughts were clear, at the moment. A rarity, for her, but the young werewolf had to focus now. She had a task to do, and she was nearing the summit. The Penumbra of her world lay out before her, swirling with spirits and reflections of the physical world. The Spirit Realm was complex... not exactly something that was easy to comprehend, but the Penumbra was close enough that most could see the analogue in the physical realm. Laine simply saw more, that is all.

<<Every moon? Until when?>> The little elemental was curious, and perhaps uncertain if it wanted to see the Garou at the Caern every month like this. What was the purpose?

<<Until the stories are all told.>>

The top of the mountain swirled with Gnosis, spiritual power gathering up and condensing around Laine's body. The tiny wolf was already sitting, summoning up the power needed for this Ritual. She'd created it herself, while laying in the Heaven or Hell offices, waiting for her regeneration to heal the damage done in that final battle. Now she summoned up her focus, went through the mental rituals and preparations... and began to howl.

<<Beyeela Nade was born upon a small, arid world. Her parents were simple, poor folk who desired only to farm enough to live the next day, and perhaps enjoy some simple pleasures now and then. Her first year was difficult, as her health...>>

Laine was no Galliard, no storyteller, but she did not falter in the howl. Her power sent it out over miles, reverberating through the Penumbra and penetrating to the physical world, imbued with that touch of magic that let every being - beast, cryptic, or human - understand the meaning behind those mournful notes.

Just as others could understand the meaning when, distantly, another wolf picked up the howl of his sister and threw back his head, joining in to relay the story for another distance, to another pack.

One single story, one single life, in one night. A different one the next. Spreading across the wilderness at the speed of a howl.