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OPENING HOWL - LITANY TL;DR: Summary at Bottom:

The opening howl dies away, and both Howls-Through-Broken-Teeth and Chases-the-Wind give warning growls, and snap viciously at Kaydin, Leandro, and Julius. They make circles, just a few times, short, sharp howls of derision and warning yelping out before they slide back to take up spaces around the forming circle.

Cry-Havoc steps into the circle and shifts into her homid form, long blonde hair in a tight braid down her back, and raises a feather-clad stick over her head, beads on leather thongs clattering against the lovingly polished wood. This new scepter for the Master of the Howl is an order tracking device, one that ensures everyone KNOWS who is speaking, and when. People who speak without the stick may be bashed with a rock, or another, less ornate stick. "Garou Shall Not Mate With Garou!" the pretty girl cries out, her voice husky and solid. "Lest we forget our kin, and become severed from this world. We do not let them linger in camps, and be treated as property. We must spurn the comfort of our packmates' arms and beds and find love amongst the Kin who's blood purifies us, and gives us purpose. Let no taint seep into the Nation by violating this law!"

George snickers and shakes his head as he stands as Fool to rebuke the Master of the Howl's assertion of the first law, looking her up and down a little indecently "Really? Have you seen yourself lately? Seriously though, the Metis are a guaranteed power asset so call that an acceptable risk for a little fuzzy bumping."

"Combat the Wyrm Wherever It Dwells And Whenever It Breeds!" Cry-Havoc cries out, ignoring Mocks-the-Darkness' argument, but straightening her leather halter-top a little to make sure she's nice and 'covered'. "Lest the infection spread, and our forces be unable to root the rot from the land, the sea, the scar."

George snorts and rolls his eyes about the second law "Commitment to the cause is good! Tactical stupidity really isn't. Fight smarter not harder. Pick battles you can win and grow stronger rather than throwing yourself into a suicidal death trap just because you got a whiff of something foul."

With a pursing of her pretty pink lips, Cry-Havoc smiles sourly at George "Hah-hah, new moon. The Litany commands we Respect the Territory of Another! This does not mean we wet the trees and roll on every issue, but that we let ourselves be known! That we give one another the respect that Warriors of Gaia deserve, and that we remember to call to our Lupine sides! Mark your territory with glyph, and sign, and scent, that each knows the place you call home, and gives you due respect and requests permission to be acknowledged within!

George Mocks-the-Darkness has an answer for everything, and he rolls his eyes and says "Yeah if there was a standard call and response that might work but too many use that law as an excuse to be an asshole. Hiding behind rank and territory as an excuse to exclude and abuse others. I got no time for that bullshit."

Unperturbed by the Ragabash's derision of their law, she continues her recitation and interpretation "Accept an Honorable Surrender. The Litany is clear, and we must remember to act with honor. Do not let your -Rage- cloud your -Judgement-. Be in command of your anger, and allow those who have wronged you to be pushed aside when you have proven your superiority. At the same time, this is not license to show your throat, and then /mouth off/ when you have been beaten. Surrender HONORABLY, or expect to have your throat torn out for being too stupid to live! Those of us of homid birth do well to remember our Lupus cousins. Their contrition is honest, and without pretense, and without condition. Be like them, and remember to simplify your emotions, to be pure in your dealings with your fellow Garou!

George laughs and shakes his head "So if it's not a rage decision does that make it okay? Because man oh man are their some Garou the Nation would be wayyyyy better off without."

Never answer the Fool. The perky, pretty blonde reminds herself as she walks the circle, her little storebought mocassains scuffing the dirt. "Show Your Submission To Those Of Higher Station! We come from wolves, as well as men, and remember to give your respect and your attention to the Garou who have -earned- their renown through deed and example. Learn from your betters, and seek to outdo them. Do NOT fight like hyenas, do NOT argue like children, do NOT throw fits and pout and take your ball and go home. We are at war, people! Learn to take instruction!"

George nods slowly, seeming to agree at first at least until he opens his mouth "So what about when a more senior garou tells you to go do something a particular way but its outside their specialty and you know they're wrong. Obedience needs to make sense thanks."

"The First Share of the Kill for the Greatest in Station." Cry-Havoc leers at Mocks-the-Darkness "Give it up, pup. If your conduct is unbecoming, your elders will take away your toys, and give them to those who can handle them more responsibly. Forget that spirits line your klaive, and it'll be set aside for you to play with when you can remember it's not a toy. All the spoils of war, the wisest will divide, and all the treasures of victory, the glorious shall wield. Try not to bitch about your cut, kay?"

George quirks an eyebrow at that, he's really kind of enjoying this "The best cut should go to those that earned it. Not to a mostly retired rear echelon motherfucker that hasn't seen the pointy end of the stick in a coon's age."

coughcough*'Speaks-for-Justice'*coughcough*'Ironflail'*coughcough* "Scuse me..." Cry-Havoc smirks cheekily at George and flicks her eyes at the Rank Four and Five 'greatest in stations' over there at the top of the circle. They snicker and pretend not to notice George talking, or the Glasswalker's little slip. Then she turns on George and crosses her arms under her rather perky chest. "Thou Shalt Not Eat the Flesh of Humans. ... Got one for that, smartass? Great for making you vulnerable to the bite of the Wyrm, and for making you sick with -yuck-. Any arguments there?"

George gives CH a wide eyed and innocent look briefly before a wicked grin and he nods "Yeah, you prepare anything right you can avoid food poisoning. We just need to cultivate the art of longpork barbecue is all. Meat is meat, all creatures are gaia's children humanity doesn't get a pass just because it has opposable thumbs."

Cry-Havoc goes 'blech!' and makes Yuck-Face at George, turning away from him and shuddering "No one is -ever- kissing you again..." She pauses for a moment and ticks off on her fingers, the slight irreverence might irk some of the old stuffies, but the little chuckles and engagement from the younger Garou makes this a learning experience that might stick. "Respect Those Beneath Ye - All Are of Gaia!" She turns and looks around, particularly outside the circle "Don't forget that we're the shepherds of humanity's flock. We cull the dangerous and diseased, to keep the herd safe. We remember to -thank- our prey, stepping sideways to vocalize our gratitude to the spirit of the departed. We defend our kin, and we don't waste our cubs and cliath on fool's errands. Everyone stumbles, and we must remember to teach as we discipline, and show kindness to those who sacrifice for us."

George snorts and shakes his head at the yuck face "If they really do sacrifice for us and pay attention to the lesson to be learned. Some though are a few whuppings shy of being decent citizens and sometimes a theraputic ass beating is the greatest kindness you can give. Eventually though you gotta cut your losses, some will just never learn." He says pointedly not looking over at Kaydin.

"The Veil Shall Not Be Lifted! Seriously, people. Keep public shifting to a minimum, and reserve your Crinos forms for war with the Wyrm. Especially the Metis who think it's somehow 'their right' to be in your breed form? We don't want another Spanish Inquisition on our hands, and we don't need to be advertising where we frequent with trails of mauled bodies." Pointing out Whitethunder from the crowd Cry-Havoc flashes him wide, meaningful eyes.

George frowns as he responds, does he actually mean it this time? "Not getting sloppy is one thing but hiding from everyone? There are people out there that would join us in our war against the wyrm if we just unbent enough to let them in, There are never enough of us to do all we need to do so why -not- seek alliances."

"Decisions like that are why we have sept -leaders-, Mocks-the-Darknes... not sept 'popularity contest winners'. We let the wisest decide." She gives a little shrug... It's clear what side of Law and Order the Guardian is on, Janet Cry-Havoc Glass has been a Guardian under the Warder's commnand for over a year! She sighs and looks out, her husky voice softening notably "Do Not Suffer Thy People to Tend Thy Sickness. This isn't a call to waste yourself on a cold... it's a call to know your limits. Do not defy the natural cycle by suffering through Alzheimers. Do not tax and torment your kin when cancer strikes you, and ravages your body. When your teeth fall out, and you lose your rage, pass on. Let your strong spirit carry on into the Summer Land and you may counsel with your wise spirit those who remain behind. Show the same respect for each other, and for yourselves, as we do for our -pets- for Gaia's sake. Misery breeds corruption, and to let a mighty warrior fade into a wyrm-shriveled mess is humiliating."

George shakes his head at that "That's like conceding the monkeys are better than use at caring for the elderly than we are, sure there's a lot that they get wrong but just getting older hasn't been a death sentence any time this century. Sure maybe their duties should change but it getting old shouldn't mean they have to die."

Cry-Havoc doesn't feel the need to argue with that assertion, or clarify it in any way. Hell, she likely agrees with it... which is what you get when your Master of the Howl is a Glasswalker. The next two parts she takes in tandem "The Leader May Be Challenged at Any Time During Peace - The Leader May Not Be Challenged During Wartime!" She glances around, pursing her lips tightly "Your pack leaders are not infallible. Your elders are not infallible. There is always an appeal. No legends call our sept home. We are at war, yes, but we are not IN COMBAT. Do not try to pull a fastone on your pack and claim that we are always at war and so you may not be challenged... when the cry of the wyrms approach goes up, it's not time to bicker. When your Alpha makes a stupid plan that's going to get your scout killed, -challenge- his dumb ass. Even if you lose, he might take it more seriously. We pick our packmates in trust, brothers and sisters.... use your common sense and your trust and ask those best suited to your problem for their help."

George narrows his eyes at Cry-Havoc she's really good at this, tying those two together like that makes them harder to assail but not impossible "Sometimes you can't wait till when its 'proper' to challenge, sometimes hardball is the game of the day. If you get new information that has to be acted on immediately and your alpha won't listen? I say don't let their pig-headdedness get your packmates killed. As for when things are quiet? That law's almost got no teeth, there's hardly ever any cause for peacetime challenges and too often the opening of that law gets used for petty bullshit."

Last, but not least. This is probably the stupid-hardest one to challenge, as any argument is pretty much going to get you laughed at. Cry-Havoc clears her throat and intones "Take NO Action, Which Causes A Caern To Be Violated." She looks pointedly over at George "Or pretty much we'll all /fucking kill you/. The Caerns are the soft spots in the Mother's Armor, where the Spirit still touches the Land. Every loss of a Caern is a dagger in the Mother's heart, and we can't let that slide, not ever. Just about any other fuckup can be forgiven, but this one is right up there with playing kickball with a pregnant lady. Seriously. Take... No... Action."

George thinks real hard about that one, its the one line more than any other that must never be crossed. He's the Fool for this moot, its his job to come up with a question so he bends his brain in knots to come up with -something- "Sure but the law isn't take no action that causes a caern to be lost, it talks about violation. And what counts as that? I've had someone tell me that the other -Gaian- Fera can never be trusted and letting them in is a security risk, he'd probably argue that bringing my packmate Keandra out to the caern counts as at least a lesser violation. Screw that."

TL;DR: The Master of the Howl, the pretty blonde Glasswalker galliard Cry-Havoc, has a new talking stick to be used to name those who will speak at the moot. No one speaks without the stick in hand. She recites the Litany, and the reasons it should be followed, while George Mocks-the-Darkness, the Silent Strider Ragabash, gives arguments, and mockeries, for why the Litany should be set aside.

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