The night felt cool on his brown fur, and with each passing step, he reveled in the freedom that his wolf form allowed him. Mark believed that he could go on forever, his tongue moist from the heart-pounding pace. Amazingly, the grey wolf that was Clara kept one step ahead of him, proving that even with age, a garou can still do the incredible. Her nimble steps through the thicket would make even the most practiced sprinter envious. Just as Mark was.
Finally, she slowed as they neared a clear stream, one of the many creeks near the small town. Virginia was an amazing place, and as they shared a drink, Mark marvelled at the beauty of Gaia. The sky was clear and the air was clean, with only a single owl in the distance breaking the silence with it's call. The water was the freshest he had ever tasted, something you don't get from tapwater or in the supermarket. It appeared that even Clara agreed with his opinion.
"Nothing like this in city," she spoke, the simple words of the wolf saying more than enough.
Mark and Clara rested after spending the past few days together, touring the lush Virginia forests. They enjoyed a good howl with some other galliards from a passing pack, even swapping tales. Mark actually seemed to forget the troubles back home. It was beginning to feel a lot like a vacation.
But like all vacations, this one had to end sometime. He soon sobered and let out a deep sigh.
"Friend have sad thoughts?"
He nodded, dropping his tail in mild submission, "life not good for us,. worse when our yesterdays return to bite." He knew that the War that ended thousands of years ago was going to be a constant thorn in the garou's side, especially with the war against the Wyrm so close to a final battle.
Clara's form shifted, the fine crackling sound of bone and flesh changing with smooth practice, until she once again wore the form of the old woman. She sat on a rock, nodding to Mark, inviting him to do the same. He nodded and took on human form as well, sitting across from her watching the old woman's eyes sparkle in the moonlight.
"Child, the world that was can't be changed. We only move forward, not backwards. Revenge don't change the past, only deepens it. Old wounds might heal faster if everyone learned that."
Mark wondered if the woman had any idea what was going on back home, but kept his peace, letting her continue.
"Once in a while, a rare child of Mother Earth does learn this, and does some good instead of harm. I would love to pretend lots of things didn't happen, that I didn't make mistakes, but that ain't gonna change. All I can do is look ahead and ask what I can do to make my few remaining days worth being proud of."
He nodded, "what if others refuse to..."
She cut him off, "can you ask the sun to stop rising? Or stop a river from flooding? No, child, and you can't make others learn until they are ready. Many never will be. Change only the things you can boy, and accept what you can't."
"And learn to know the difference," he finished, "I know that prayer. And now I think I begin to understand."
The old woman's wrinkles shifted into a warm smile and she cupped the side of his face in her old worn hand, carressing him gently. The moment was a wordless acknowledgement of a freindship that had developed between them. A friendship greater than anything Mark had ever known. Ths went beyond learning about garou rituals. They had bonded. When she pulled away, he seemed disappointed that the limits of flesh could not better express the feelings he had now.
"Now, lissen up lad. You asked for a story about John Iron, and you agreed to pay any price. Very well, here's my price."
"A long time ago, when I was as young, I came across a blackened field. Within the field, there lay a man, his skin seemed blistered and red, peeling off like an onion. I came to him and offered him some water, but as to the rest of his ills, I could offer no relief. He wasn't going to live to see another sunrise.
"For an hour I held him, breathing hard, his wounds were beyond our gifts to heal, and we both knew he was about to die. He looked me in the eyes, and made me promise to return something to his people that was lost that day.
"I searched a long time, but I couldn't find it. Until about ten years ago. I was no longer the young woman, and I was unable to go after it. But you aren't an old woman. You can get it and keep my promise. Can you do that, boy? Do you think you can help keep an old woman's word?"
Mark understood what she was asking, and nodded, "as soon as I can, I will find this lost thing for you. And when I deliver it, I will tell them your tale. This I swear."
She reached into a bag sitting at her side and pulled out some rolled up papers, handing them to him, "everything I could gather, all that I learned is in here. Including where it was last. Keep my word, boy. It means a lot to me."
He accepted the papers and nodded.
"I've taught you a lot these past days, and you were a mighty good learner. Now it's time to sit back and let this old woman tell you 'bout John Iron, the miner that could shake the mountains," and she began her tale.