Clockwork

Much to his expectation and delight, the shy fox made his way out of the brush and caught up with Cunning Fool and his feathered companion. Before long the foreigner offered to scout ahead, referring to the coyote as One of One Hundred again. Playfully the canine called after his new companion.

"Your name for me is as strange as yours for you," he called ahead. "If you must call me something, my name is Xochipilli Cunning Fool. If you desire to come up with a nickname, that is fine too!" He snickered to himself, pleased that his actual name bore more syllables than the one he had called too long. As per his expectations, the fox kept mostly to himself for the rest of the afternoon. When he returned, he brought poor news.

"Pentex?" Cunning Fool repeated. The bird atop his head turned her head at him.

"Does that word mean something to you?" The fox caught onto the tone and his own was suddenly hushed, reserved.

"I'm surprised you're not aware of them." He shook his head, realizing his words might convey disappointment where there was none. "They are the human hand of the Wyrm, numerous and spread throughout the world as termites would defile a tree."

"They have a finger in every pie. Construction, politics, the food industry, medicine..." The bird followed up.

"Worse, those important to the company are often corrupted by powerful spirits, often Fomori. Worse still, those at the bottom-most levels are often just deluded humans along for the ride and not aware of the kinds of evils they perpetrate against the world."

"What should we do?" the fox asked. The coyote paced.

"I don't know. I admit, it is worrisome this isn't territory for some of the Garou. I had come here expecting to be encountered, actually, and I wholly intended to borrow some hospitality at one of their Caerns. If Pentex is flat-out destroying land, I fear the reason we have not yet been accosted."

He paced, looking about the trees as if for some sort of clue.

"There's too many to take on directly if Awaino's estimate is correct." The raven didn't offer much help, expressing thoughts all three had come to early on in their conversation.

"Perhaps. I may know of an old trick, however, that might aid us..." His tone trailed off and his maw seemed to somehow curve further upwards in a grin.

"What do you propose, One-Of-, er..."

Cunning Fool spoke without allowing the fox to correct himself. "This is not the first time I have seen the efforts of man deface the earth. Amusingly enough, the last time I saw them they were building across plains instead of making them, but man has not changed much in one hundred and some-odd years."

"I do not understand."

"Those in charge of this destruction are no doubt bolstered by the Wyrm, but those operating the actual machinery are likely just confused and strung-along humans. Humans still know fear, are still afraid of the dark places of the world." His smile curved ever more. "Men still know deep down to be afraid of spirits angered. And this part of the world is rife with tales of all manner of thing that may creep during the night..."

"You're suggesting that we scare them off somehow?"

"Oh, Great Maker no. I'm suggesting you do." His tone was sickly serious, his eyes locked on the fox's and the bird eying him similarly.

"I kid. Of course I mean for us all to do it."

Somehow, the smile continued to curve.