All I really want to do these nights is have a stag’s night out with Jason, enjoy the drinks and maybe share some of the heartache. Sadly that would imply some weakness and right now I don’t think Jason needs more of that. Bloody hell.

So Mira wants von Stein’s ass. And why? Because “he stepped on her toes”. Good lord. I wonder who doesn’t step on Nosferatu toes these nights. Touchy little bastards. And yet here I am, finding myself sitting quietly in a conversation with her, calmly explaining why Jason and I think ourselves very much innocent and why Alyster might actually have deserved what was coming to him. Yaddayadda. How appearing weak would have weakened the senate – and in that Jacques as well. Of course none of them wish to take the mental leap and accept that I’m not totally wrong in saying that. We’re all monsters. But god help us when someone actually displays part of it. We would then have to face our own reflection. How poorly adapted are all of them to this situation? All in all it comes down to the fact that even the Nosferatu don’t quite know just why the hell they are angry at us. And that’s a shame. So I’ll make another attempt at trying to talk to their elder. Who will most likely not hear me – or hear me and lecture me on how I broke his little toy.

At the same time Mira stakes Pearse in order to find out wether the Setites messed with her heart. Obviously they didn’t. And what’s the punishment Mira gets for it? Yes! Say that you’re sorry! No treat. Now go to bed without dinner. And that’d be that. Flashy display of non-punishment, if ever I saw one.

Either way, Pearse isn’t quite herself yet. She’s being supported by quite a lot of people for now. But she’s also starting to make mistakes. They will add up. And she won’t be able to avoid displeasing people forever. Can she take the pressure then? I doubt it. Not from what I see these nights. Not from what I hear. And with that I mean that she’s silent most of the time. As if she waiting for someone to tell her what to do.

From what I can tell Shiraz is trying to re-establish the clan speakers. My guts tell me that it’s his way of trying to reinstitute a primogen council. But acting against the will of the prince is never a good idea. So he’d better take it very, very slow. Also it’s a pretty good sign who he’s betting his money on for the time being. A clever choice on first glance. But I don’t think it is one when trying to take long-term effects into consideration. He should have stayed with his original bet. Scared man.

Interesting thing is that neither him nor Shepherd knew that Pearse was back. Which means that Pearse never adressed her clan – something they won’t like much. And that the countess didn’t either. Only she’s in a position to actually do that without any form of backlash. Pearse on the other hand? She might just have taken the first step on a very long road to piss her own people off. Then again, I hope that she didn’t. But people can be stupid like that.

The odd thing is that von Stein and I seem to have found some common ground. He can be rather reasonable. And I sure as hell would rather have him on my side than constantly having to smack him down for one thing or another. He appreciates the warning I gave him about Mira – and the fact that I’d try to get him out of there, should she be stupid enough to do anything. The problem is that his mouth is just about as big as my own, which is likely why I don’t like him that much. Doesn’t mean we can’t work together.

Good Doc Euler is back as well. He’s either really trying to trick me or, if he’s saying the truth, he knows a good investment when he sees one. I should think that he does.

The Malkavian have a new face within their ranks. Kasper van der Nied. That man already knows more than is good for any of us. Then again, Rottenmeier and him get along just fine. So for now I’ll consider him an ally. Together with her.

For now I don’t get to talk to Jason much. Which is a shame. First of all I simply like talking to him – and at the same time it makes me feel distant and detached, which I don’t like. Especially not with him. Gone are the days of drinks in town. Both of us have our plates full. Need to figure out a way to reconnect.

And, of course, Jacques… Bipolar is probably the best term. And I can’t figure out how to help him. Sometimes I think he doesn’t want help at all. If I can’t figure out something soon I’ll be left with only once choice. And I have no way of knowing whether I have the strength for that in me. I know that I never had it before. Now? I seriously don’t know. So please, please… Don’t make me try…

After rewinding the tape Nate played it again, his host listening in carefully.
A pack of wolves howling. Six different voices could be made out easily. A seventh if one listened in carefully enough.
“Seven.”, Nate commented enthusiastically. His host nodded quietly. “And then it stops with an eigth howl.” The words were barely out when another howl could be heard. Different this time. The other seven voices fell silent. “But this one isn’t a wolf, is it?”
The native shook his head no. “It is not.”
“Then what it is? And why does it scare the wolves so much?”
“Wendigo.”
Nate looked at him, trying to muster enough patience as not to ask all the question he had on his mind. The old man explained without him having to ask one of them. “The hungry spirit of winter. The wolves do not fear him because he would want their flesh. They know Wendigo does not hunt for them. But they know Wendigo is the greater hunter. All animals fear the hunter.”
Glancing over his shoulder and back at the old man Nate tilted his head. “Then why have you shown me this?”
Supporting himself with his walking stick the old man pulled himself to his feet. “Because the flames have shown me Wendigo the night before you arrived.”