fortunate son.'s Journal

Amongst the Garou, the Fianna are known for a multitude of aspects. Some of them are beautiful and some of them are terrifying and some of them are ugly enough to scar, and some of them are all of these at once. The part that shapes your life the most is this: the Fianna are known for telling stories. You know this because most important part of your story is that your father was born with a cleft chin and so were you. In most parts of the world, even amongst most wolves, that would indicate very little other than the twisting of some strand of DNA, but for your family it means everything.

Humans have a legend which says the depression over the upper lip marks where angels tell unborn children to keep secrets, and this is similar: Gaia touched her fingertip below your mouth and so your words were meant to do great things, your stories and songs would have special resonance, and your deeds were the stuff that would shape the craft of others. Your father had a Destiny, with a capital D, and so do you.

So when your father fucked everything up, it was slightly more inexcusable than it might otherwise be, and the destiny that you carry on your shoulders belongs not just to you, but to who and what your father should have been, and every Fianna who's come before you. Your grandmother tells you this: Mary Whalen who is the wisest storyteller you know.

She tells you how your story started; like all fables the important part is the moral so you never tell her you don't need the reminder. You are born into an important house, the moon rests in perfect invisible blackness, and your parents were selected for exactly the reason of bringing you into the world. Some families just fall together, but Mary Whalen (who should be O'Connell and is nevertheless addressed by her family name) knew you were too important to just leave to chance. Later you understand what kind of an arrangement this was, and why it meant your parents were only in the same room when it came to you and the six others who came after you. Two wolves in seven are very, very good odds; Mary Whalen says your family is blessed.

Or you were for seven years, anyway - sevens and threes show up all the time in the mythology of all the world, a fact which is put to your attention as part of any good story - no one can drag out of Seamus how long It (The Mistake, The Abomination, The Wrong Wrong Thing) was going on, but right after you turn six (the leaves were starting to change, and like any good metaphor so were you) you become everything you were meant to be, stronger and faster and full of a clean whitered anger you didn't understand but wanted, because it was expected of you. You Changed and your father was the Somewhere Else he was for most of your life.