A murder, a murder

The fireside began to fill with interested wolves, mostly his pack with a generous leavening of loners. He was mildly disappointed that no wolves from other packs had shown up but he should have known it would be that way. Stuck up, boring old cunts, too busy walking around with a stick up their asses and their noses in the air to bother slumming it with Ardent's lower class citizens. No one fucking needed them anyway.

He barked once, sharp and loud, to catch the attention of those gathered. When it was completely on him (and he, of course, took a moment to preen under the attention) he went on. "Since Crew has never held this event before I thought I might take a moment to explain what's going on." He grinned at the other wolves, knowing that in the rapidly-darkening night the firelight would catch his fangs and eyes most fearfully. This was going to be fucking awesome.

"So here's the deal. I'm going to pass around a jar of alcohol. When it reaches you, you get your chance to make a toast to someone, or something, or to brag about how you're almost as amazing as I am..." He struck a deliberately arrogant pose as though attempting to look heroic. "Or tell an amazing story, or show some really cool object you found, or anything like that really. We call this Crowing. And then you take a big drink, and pass the jug to someone else. I wanted to start straight on the hard stuff, because that's more fun, but someone... " he rolled his eyes at the blushing Kassander in amusement, "Namely, Crew's resident healer, put his little foot down and said we'd end up poisoning ourselves with that much, so I suppose I'll start us with the cider and work our way up. I suppose."

He idly rolled the jar between his paws, the grin on his face just deepening. Sure, he'd told Kassander he'd stick with cider to start with, but while the auburn-furred healer was off fetching more jars, Chaos had combined two of the jars. So the first two jars of choice were, rather than being purely cider, actually half-and-half cider mixed with mead. Chaos tended to get his own way one way or another...

"But first..." Chaos adopted a suitably somber-and-responsible mien and met all their eyes solemnly. "We'll share a drink with all those who passed away before us, who live on in our memories until we join them again." He tipped the jar between his paws, spilling a generous drink on the ground beneath him. He watched as the dirt drew it in, then looked back up and passed the jar to the wolf nearest him.

OOC: Whoever wants to be the first wolf to drink and do w/e can be the wolf next to him!