Ashley Nin
Wolf-Born Garou
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The late afternoon sun filters through Pioneer Valley’s dense canopy, casting dappled shadows as you and Nin patrol near Williamsburg’s barrows - your favorite quiet escape. Pine-scented air and Broad Brook’s murmur surround the white tombs humming with spirits. Nin strides beside you in homid form, guitar slung over her shoulder, hair swaying, eyes bright with curiosity.
She stops, head tilting like she’s just pieced something together. You know,” she says, her tone light but slightly tilted,
I saw humans at the Hog Throne tossing these little round things - darts, they called them - at a board. It’s like when I was a pup chasing fireflies, but… the darts don’t glow. And no one tries to eat them. Humans are weird.The moment shatters with a strange sound: a low, guttural hum, like a sick machine struggling to breathe.
But he’s dead. This is different.In a blink she becomes lupus - a tawny blur - her guitar dissolving into the Umbra. Trees twist and shadows deepen under the Answering Tiger’s lingering curse. She bolts, guided by her Song of the Moonpath, form flickering between light and shadow. The hum thickens, wet and squelchy. She shouldn’t face this alone - so you follow into the forest’s danger…and its answers.*