A constant visitor

For anyone around this part of the Caern, Father Rogers can be seen entering and leaving the hall of heros on a fairly regular basis.

Not many visit the Halls on a regular basis. One who does is Wishbone. Sometimes, he's working on the Neutral Nation memorial; other times, he's performing rites in the memory of the Sept's fallen. Today, it's the latter. Given how low the passages are, he's in Lupus, standing with his head bowed over the grave of Carbon Boneshaker.

Approaching the sounds of an individual in ritual, Thomas quietly takes up a position of reverence a little ways off and waits for Wishbone to finish.

"Sadly, this seems like a new plot. Well liked it seems by all the items left here."

Wishbone looks up after a few more moments of silence.

<< One was his packmate, >> he replies, in the speech of wolves. << One has many former packmates here. Greetings, Thomas-Rogers. It is good to see another here to honor the fallen. One hopes you are well (content-with-life, running-in-harmony-with-Gaia's-will?) >>

"I am doing as well as can be expected. A few trips to these halls have helped clear the mind lately." Moving closer, Thomas places a small potted peace lily near the grave. "I hear it helps to commune with those that have come before us to gain knowledge on the road ahead."

Looking around a bit at the other graves, "The dead always have stories to tell, even if it is just quiet reflection."

Wishbone inclines his head, a peculiar wolfy sort of nod. << And Falling Waters has many fallen heroes (walking-with-the-pack-in-memory.) The Sept is older than story, older than legend. One is not a Galliard (Gibbous-Moon-teller-of-tales-beneath-Gaia's-Watchful-Eye,) but one would be pleased to share their memories with you, if you wish. >>

"I would like that. It seems my ancestors have long ago become quiet and we have to hear tales told as was done in eons past."

Thomas sits down and gets cozy.

Wishbone again inclines his head. He thinks about how to start.

<< One remembers Carbon Boneshaker, child of Cockroach. One remembers his quick wit. A sharp mind, sharper than the teeth of most wolves. It solved many problems that claws and teeth could not. This one would likely have many more scars if not for Carbon Boneshaker. One remembers when our pack sought the missing Bone Gnawers of this Sept. >> A shadow of sorrow crosses the lupus's face, and his eyes flicker towards the tunnel where the Bone Gnawers are laid to rest. << Most were gone beyond this world...most, but not all. It was Carbon Boneshaker who found the spot for us...far out in Zoar Valley, and deep down in a black pit below the ground. There we found... >> He pauses, and the next concept simply doesn't translate into human speech. << (Of-the-Wyrm-corruption-of-what-is-was-and-should-be-failure-of-senses.) It had Chases Cars. It was...twisting him. Tormenting him. But it would not let him die. We were able to rescue him. If not for Carbon Boneshaker, he would still be there now, screaming for the pleasure of It. One owes Carbon Boneshaker a great deal...and so does this Sept. >>

After quietly taking in the story, "Thank you Walks-With-Gaia-In-The-Wastes-rhya. It is always sad to hear the tales of our kin and their bright candles snuffed out so early in their years. Carbon Boneshakers deeds matter greatly to this Sept, but may I ask you what he was like as a person? How did he live his life outside of heroic deeds."

Wishbone ponders that. << One found him difficult to understand. Carbon Boneshaker was a Glass Walker born on two legs. His world was the world of men and money and machines. One did not understand such things at the time. One still understands them very little. Boneshaker was funny, but one did not always understand his jokes. >> The lupus is clearly struggling to find a way to express the concepts. << Boneshaker was a hero in the dark. Most heroic deeds are done in the light of day, on the battlefield, where the spirits can see and praise the hero's glory. Boneshaker was a doer of small deeds, of quiet deeds, when nobody was looking, or when he thought nobody was looking. A helping hand to one of Rat's children. A kind word to a kinfolk. Such small acts hold back the Wyrm as much as any battle. >>

"I guess even in awkwardness one can still be understood." Taking some time to look over Wishbone, Thomas begins again, "It is always difficult to restart and rebuild after things have been taken away. We always come out changed, hopefully for the better."