A quiet bit of meditation. (semi-closed, see post)

[Hiya! It's me, the guy behind Gawain's curtain. I'm keeping this post semi-closed, open to one person whom I have already contacted. However, lest anyone think I am standoffish, if you have a good reason, SL-wise, to find Gawain, I can make it happen. Just send me a PM and let me know. Right now, Gawain's gonna make it so that he can't be found unless you know exactly how he's hidden. Thanks, and happy gaming!]

Gawain had stopped by his room, mostly to shuck the sweaty t-shirt he wore in favor of a solid black one, with, surprisingly enough, no words or logo. His pants were replaced with a pair of jeans, and his shoes and socks were left behind. Satisfied that he was ready, he slipped the bronze medallion he had obtained years earlier into his pocket and headed out.

Soon, Gawain was breathing clean, pure air. He could smell dozens upon dozens of different plants, animals, and even a number of lichens. He felt at home, practically peaceful. Slowly, after crossing the bridge, he left the beaten path, crossing the garden in a zig-zag manner to throw off his scent to any but a select few. After walking for an hour or two, he stopped, looking around and smiling.

This was the spot, he thought as he plopped down on the brush-carpeted ground. Slipping his hand into his pocket, he withdrew the medallion, placing it on the ground in front of him. Then, he relaxed, slipping into the lotus position. After some insistence on one particular person's part, Gawain had taken up yoga to relieve stress. It even worked, sometimes.

His eyes closed, and soon his breathing slowed, as did his heart rate. As he felt himself slipping into a light trance, he reached down and grasped the medallion between his palms, holding it close for a moment. This was the part he despised, but it's necessity was not to be argued at this point. He rose slowly, almost imperceptibly, into the air, scant feet above the ground. The medallion floated into the air before him, and his hands and feet, as if drawn, came out to point in a four-point pattern to the medallion. Then, he tilted, coming to a stop completely inverted.

His mind's eye saw flashes, images he couldn't, or maybe wouldn't, accept. Killing this man, torturing that one. Fangs tearing flesh, the reverie of the hunt plain to see. Then, a voice. "Been at it again, ain'tcha, you great ninny? I taught you better'n that, ye big mutt!" His eyes didn't open, for the voice came from the ether, belonging to his mentor, foster-mother, and friend. "Nanny, are you real?" "As real as the dead can be, ya oaf. Now then, are we gonna do this or not?" "Yes, Ma'am. I'm ready. I am sorry for what I've done, departing from your teachings, but...things got complicated, Nanny." "Complicated my arse, Gawain. Ya never tried being a young woman, daughter of a shaman, who turned into a great bloody bear twice the month!" "Yes Ma'am, I know. I just want to get myself back, is all. There are people who deserve the best I can be, and I aim to give it to them. In both ways." "There's me boy. Now, let's begin."

What happened next is a closely guarded secret that was shared with Gawain by his mentor, the woman who taught him that he was gifted, not cursed, and that he could, and would, control his gift. She tapped into power he didn't know he had, and trained him in the use of that, as well. Further training would come later, at the Black Tower, but that is a different story. Even as this was going on, he stayed motionless in the air, a slight hum issuing from his medallion. No magic (or, if you want to be pretentious, magick) could wrest the medallion away, and a burnt hand was the least of the injuries the person who touched it would, unless otherwise specified by Gawain in the ritual, suffer upon their person. After awhile, the hum faded, and he simply hung there, a slight smile on his face. Soon, a bluejay swooped down and landed on his leg, apparently feeling it safe to do so. That made Gawain smile a little more. Already it was working, and he couldn't have been happier.

Gawain was still in the throes of a less deep, yet still pretty serious, meditation. Still, old habits die hard, so what happens with animal instincts? His nostrils flared, and he sniffed at the air on a subconcious level. Aha, there she is. Something else? No, just the scent of two others on her. Armandeus, in close proximity, and not too long ago. An almost-missed scent....someone who had been close, but not in contact. Ah.

~Benjamin.~

The stray thought, though he didn't mean for it to happen, would probably drift to her own thoughts. They were, after all, much closer to being in tune with one another, given the bloodline. Still, he settled down, a simple smile affixing itself to his face. He had a feeling she would come to him, so he would simply wait and not seek to mask his presence. Well, not from her.

"Hello, De'Ryanna. Pleased to see you, dear. A moment, please." His eyes still closed, he concentrated on stillness, and the medallion stopped shimmering and was still. His eyes opened slowly, and his smile broadened. "Push off, you. I'm not a statue, go find another roost!" Waving a bit, he finally convinced the blue jay to fly away, after which he righted himself and lowered gently to the ground.

He sighed softly and cracked his neck. Ah, that was better. "So, De'Ryanna, what brings you out this far? Before you tell me, I need to tell you something. I'm sorry, daughter. Both for my previous outburst, and for my absence in your life. I want to be a part of your life from now on, if you don't mind. Too much time has passed, and I'm serious about this. All the adventures, all the wars, they can wait and younger men can be called upon. I want to be a father and husband. That is, if your mother doesn't skin me for being gone."

He had to ask, despite himself. "So, something has you worked up, and, knowing that you take after your Mother so much, I know it isn't our previous argument. It's been too long, and you would have cooled off since then. Is there anything you need, dear?" Calm, cool, and collected....but very focused. That was Gawain, and he hoped he could maintain that for some time to come. Regardless, he looked to Ryanna and smiled, waiting for her to speak.

Gawain grinned then, stretching slowly as he stood. "It's entirely possible to learn. You have the gift, it's in your blood, but sometimes one must be taught to harness the gift, much like the difference between Wilders and those who must be taught to Channel. As for Benjy teaching you anything, well, you already know my feelings on that subject. However, if you're willing to learn, you -do- have someone who can teach you. All you need do is ask. A word of warning." He raised a hand, index finger extended. "Once you start down this path, there is no turning back. I can teach you, but in the end, the strength must come from you. As a matter of fact, if you wish, I can guide you through your first transformation. Just tell me where you want to stop, full wolf, hybrid, whichever, and we'll work from there." He saw her glance at the sky, and smiled. "Ah yes, the moon. Do you feel it? It calls to us, those of the blood. You will learn, as I did, and in time, that it doesn't have to dominate your destiny. Remember, you are a strong woman, and I have to tell you that I couldn't be prouder of you, Ryanna, and I love you. Now."

He grinned as he sat down, cross-legged, on the ground. "Have a seat, and give me your hands. This part is easy. We establish a mental link, and I look for the 'trigger' within you. Should be easy to find, since I remember Nanny teaching me in much the same way. The first change will hurt, no doubt, but you're strong enough to take it. After all, you -are- my daughter." He paused, looking up for a moment at the moon. "It is beautiful, isn't it? I used to grit my teeth when I looked at it, but now I can appreciate it in another light." He cleared his throat, shaking out his hair as he did so, and smiled. "Now...shall we begin?"

Gawain chuckled a bit, and patted her head. "Honey, only the weaklings lose themselves to the bloodlust. Now, that's not to say there's not a certain....pleasantness.....to the hunt, and revelling in it, but that's another story, and one I can't explain to you. It's like trying to explain being in love, or how to channel Saidin. I can't tell you, you have to feel it. Your brother....the gift is strong in him, and at an early age, it can lead to excessive...well, exuberance. Have you ever seen a pup, the way it acts when it gets excited? Well, think about how much worse that pup would be if it had the mind of a human and the body of a wolf. You won't be out of control, because you've already learned self-control. After we're done, anyway, you'll be able to control that aspect of your gift, as well as all other aspects."

Gawain stopped, grinning. "By the way, the first time I shifted successfully, on my own, I...well, I sort of chased my tail. And don't laugh, it was fun!" Gawain laughed then, tossing his head back as he did, clearly enjoying the memory. "The point is, at first, you'll be a little frisky. After awhile, you learn control. Since you've been trained in the Tower, control will come MUCH easier for you. Trust me. I know what I'm talking about here."

Gawain stopped, staring down at the box. He laid a hand atop it, and felt.....wrongness. Withdrawing his hand, he sat down, focusing on the box, and waited. Maybe he was drumming up some courage, who knows?

After awhile, Gawain rose, and with a small measure of reluctance, he laid his hand on the jewelry box. In one swift move, he opened it, and stood back. He braced himself for what was to come, knowing that the first shift would be violent, and that a lot of pent-up emotion would be released.

"De'Ryanna! Control is key! Don't give in to your bestial nature, do not let it control you. I am here for you, now and forever. Remember this, and do not be afraid. Use the pain, my daughter! Let it give you focus!"

With that said, he withdrew his consciousness from hers, stood back, and shifted. Like it or not, they were in for one wild ride.......

Gawain stayed stock-still, waiting for her initial strike, and took it full-force across his muzzle. His head snapped back, blood and spittle flying from his mouth, and just as suddenly swung back around. He raised one hand and backhanded her across her nose as he himself sneezed. She had the instinct, no doubt, else she wouldn't have known to strike at the nose. However, it was time for her to learn an important lesson: she had a lot to learn, and he was about to teach her the most important of that lot. Control, free will, and clarity of thought.

After a moment, Gawain snarled, circling her with his muzzle down, sniffing the air and feinting once in awhile to keep her off balance. Suddenly, he dove in, delivering a short jab to her midsection followed by another backhand.

Standing over her, he growled. "You can learn, or you can be beaten some more. Now relax. I can and will hurt you, but I do not wish to. Focus, De'Ryanna. FOCUS. Remember who you are!" His only thought besides that of survival was that this was years of repression being burnt off. He grinned, knowing that she would be free of this all too soon, and her true training could finally begin.

Gawain snarled, feeling her teeth sink into his leg, and swiftly brought his elbow down into the back of her head. With a satisfying...well, for him, anyway....smack, he felt her grip loosen, and he snatched her head away from him, bringing a knee up into her chest then extending the leg to kick her away.

With a snarl, he leapt at her, wrapping her in a bear-hug and squeezing her tightly. His only recourse was to try and reawaken her within her own mind. After all, he didn't want to beat his own daughter down, just as he didn't want her to rip out his throat, which she would if he took it easy on her. With her restrained, he opened his mind, and practically shouted through a mind-link. "De'Ryanna Cauthon! Come to your senses, or have them beaten out of you this instant!" Play-time was over starting now.

Gawain relaxed his grip, smoothing his daughter's hair down and whispering soothing words to her. The motion of a finger would cause his cloak to fly to him, which he used to cover her body. After he cradled her, awash in memories of her early childhood, he channeled, forming a Gateway to his room. There, he would allow her to rest and stand guard over her until she was strong enough to move again.

[Posting will be continued, after De'Ryanna responds, of course, in the Living Quarters.]