Addendum GW - Chapter Two: Among the Leaves so Green-o (Part Two)
Title: Addendum GW
Subtitle: Among the Leaves so Green-o (Part Two)
Author: dracox-serdriel
Word count: 11,163 (total for chapter)
Rating: R
Warnings: language, graphic descriptions of violence, violence against animals, animal abuse, mentions of psychotic behavior
Important: This chapter has been broken into two parts because of the length restrictions on Livejournal.
Chapter notes: For common terminology definitions and pronunciation, see end-of-chapter notes.
Nick was having a very bad day. The investigation hadn't brought anything to light but a handful of nosy neighbors. Nobody with a bow or a dog bite turned up, and running down Ronan Sawyer's associates was a bust. Everyone alibied out. So far the working theory was a hunting accident that somehow precipitate a homicide.
He was about to leave the station when Juliette called.
"Juliette, I'm on my way home now," he said as he answered the phone.
"Nick, I'm canceling."
"What?"
"I'm canceling tonight," she said. "Rosalee called me. I'm guessing you told her?"
"No, I told Monroe... I'm sorry, I guess I just thought that they already knew."
"It's fine, Nick. It's fine. But she called me and said she wanted to talk with me about it."
"All right, I'll pick you up."
"No," she said. "I know you're trying to help, Nick, but whatever Rosalee finds, whatever choices she gives me, I'm going to be the one to decide. It's my decision, not ours."
"I understand that. I just want to support you."
"Your first instinct was to try and reverse this, like you had to fix me," Juliette said. "But for the first time, I've been able to protect myself in your world, Nick. Maybe this was meant to happen."
"I guess that's possible," Nick said, though he couldn't hide the disappointment in his voice.
"See, you say that, but I can tell that you don't mean it," she replied. "But if you want to make this work, then you've got to make peace with the fact that, even if there is a way to reverse this, I might choose not to."
"Juliette, if that's what you want, then I'll support you," he replied. "I wasn't trying to fix you... I just wanted you to have a choice."
"I don't know how long I'll be at the Spice Shop," Juliette said, changing topics. "But for now it might be best if you sleep in the guestroom."
"Right, well, I'll see you tonight, maybe," he replied.
"Good night, Nick."
Hank went to Monroe's house as soon as he got his text, gladly abandoning his TV diner.
"See you got the message, too," Hank said to Nick.
"Yeah."
"You okay?" he asked.
"Not really."
Monroe opened the door before they even knocked. "Good, you're here. Wu and I have been waiting. We ordered Chinese."
Hank and Nick joined Wu and Monroe, helping themselves to generous portions of pork fried rice, beef with broccoli, and General Tao's chicken.
"Nick, you look like Hell," Wu said.
"Well, yeah, obviously," Monroe said. "If I were in his shoes, I'd look like Hell too."
"Why's that?" Hank asked. "Is something going on, Nick?"
"Uh, yeah, between me and Juliette," he said. "But we didn't come here to discuss that, right?"
Monroe switched gears.
"Wu called the Spice Shop about something called a Fiadh-chalma. He couldn't find it in any of the Grimm anthologies," Monroe began.
"I did find something called a Carria-chalma. Captured a picture of the page with my phone, take a look," Wu said.
Hank glanced at the sketch of an elk-like wesen.
"That's what they looked like," Nick said.
"Trouble is, your ancestors didn't have much to say about them, except it was rumored to kill by crushing or trampling," Wu said. "One line in one book, and that's all they wrote."
"And when I heard what you were looking for, I was like, boy howdy," Monroe said.
"You've heard of them?" Nick asked.
Monroe replied, "Hell yeah I heard of them. First, Carria-chalma is for stags, and Fiadh-chalma for doe. They're the same species. They're a Celtic wesen but not just any wesen, schierwesen, sometimes called zweifachwesen but that term's kinda antiquated if you ask me or, you know, any wesen born after the Enlightenment."
"Beyond being harder to pronounce, how's that different from a regular wesen?" Wu asked.
"A handful of wesen species possess the ability to take on complete animal form," Monroe explained. "Not to be confused with some species where it's incidental because the wesen form has so much similarity with the human form that you can't tell the difference when they woge, you know, like primate or bear wesen. I mean, some Jagerbar look just like bears when they transform, provided they're naked and really pissed off, but what I'm talking about now is completely different, a fundamentally different kind of woge that's gotta be learned. Any schierwesen that figures out how to do it can take on a complete animal form of their wesen selves, even with drastically different anatomy. From what I hear, it's incredible, a sort of return to nature that they have - I mean, if the individual chooses to learn it - in addition to the ordinary woge that you all have seen before. And once Wu started asking me about them and said that bit about the Grimms not writing much about them, I thought, hey, maybe it's because of the animal form. I mean, Grimms wouldn't waste their time hunting down some animal that trampled someone to death."
"You're saying that these Faidh- and Carria-chalma can woge into a full deer?" Nick asked.
"More like Irish elk, if we can trust your ancestors' sketch," Hank commented.
"Definitely, but they're closer to reindeer-size," Monroe said. "Those Irish elk things were huge. You know, before they went extinct."
"Could it be possible that this is just some kind of hunting accident?" Hank asked. "Our vic would look like a deer or elk, right? Our guy sees him and takes a shot, not knowing that it's actually a person."
"Maybe, except hunting season for deer in Portland runs October to November, and he was found inside a house," Wu replied.
"Do they have any kind of natural enemies?" Hank asked. "Someone who might've killed Prey just for being a, uh, Carria-chalma?"
Monroe replied, "Actually, no. If anything, they're known for their ability to guide, literally and figuratively. Through the woods or through personal revelations and spiritual turmoil. In fact, they're the origin of the symbolism of the white stag. You know, that thing that is always desired but always just out of reach."
"So we still got nothing," Hank said.
"Are you kidding?" Monroe said. "There are schierwesen in Portland. That's incredible!"
"Really?" Wu said. "I thought Portland was full of wesen."
"Yeah, but schierwesen are old school and don't really migrate," Monroe said. "For an old world Celtic species to be in America? That's... kind of a big deal."
"But probably not related to the case," Hank said. "Those photographs we got from Stiles did capture a person, but you couldn't make out who. I gave them to the IT guys to see if they could enhance them and make an ID."
They spent the next minute or so eating in silence.
"Well, if we're done with the case, then I guess I should fill you guys in," Nick said.
"Ah, the reason you look like Hell," Wu said. "Let me guess, Juliette's pregnant?"
"No, no, I wish that's... no, she's not," Nick said. "She's a Hexenbiest."
And that was just the start of that conversation.
Nick woke to the sound of his cell ringing, but it took him a few moments to find his phone in the guestroom.
"Burkhardt," he answered.
"Nick," Hank replied. "I just got a call from officers responding to a nine one one. Jason Anderson was attacked in his home. He was taken to the hospital, not likely talking anytime soon."
"You think it's the same guy who killed Prey?" Nick asked.
"All I know is, they're holding the scene for us," Hank said. "And since it's barely six in the morning, we should get there sooner rather than later. I don't want to deal with cranky forensics techs."
After leaving Juliette a note and a pot of coffee, Nick met Hank at the residence of Jason Anderson and Steven Briggs.
"Are you the detectives?" an on-scene officer asked. "I'm Officer Lexus Herald, I was the first on scene."
"Can you run down your response on this?" Hank asked.
"Nine one one received a call from this house. I was on patrol, got the call, and responded. That was around five fifteen this morning. When I arrived, the door was open. Not just unlocked, but open. I called inside. No response. I went in and found a young man unconscious on the floor. He had a head wound. I called for EMTs. While we were waiting, he regained consciousness briefly and told me his name, Jason Anderson, and said his roommate attacked him. He tried to say more, but he was too weak. He remained conscious until a few minutes after the EMTs got here. They took him to the hospital, and I secured the scene."
"Thank you, Officer Herald," Nick said. "We'll take it from here."
Hank started in the living room, while Nick went to the living room. He found signs of a struggle: overturned chairs, blood on the walls and floor, and indentations along the wall and dining room table, likely made during a bodily collision. The fight in here had been furious, like a tornado touching down.
"Nick, you need to see this!" Hank yelled.
The Grimm joined his partner in the living room. Hank had on a pair of crime scene gloves, so Nick followed suit and snapped some on, too.
"You found something?" Nick asked.
"Sure did," he replied.
Hank bent down behind the sofa and picked up an awkwardly shaped object. It was the body of a short reflex bow with a broken limb and bowstring.
"Any chance that's blood?" Nick asked, pointing to a brownish-red discoloration on the string.
"Don't know, but is it just me, or does this look like a bite mark?" Hank asked as he indicated the break on the limb.
"Juliette said that the injury on the dog's nose and neck could've come from a whip," Nick said. "What if Rex bit through the limb or string and broke it? The tension in the string could've caused a whip-like injury."
"Then all we'd have to do is match the blood on this string to the dog, and we can put our suspect at the scene of the crime."
"It also means that our guy is down a weapon," Nick said. "He'll need to get a new one."
"I dunno," Hank replied. "He could be using whatever was hanging up there."
He pointed to the mantle above the fireplace. There were four pegs paired off horizontally, but nothing was on display.
"We've no way to know if they had two bows up there," Nick said. "But I've got a bad feeling that you're right, and our guy has just brained his roommate, taken a new weapon, and is somewhere in Portland, ready to use it."
Hank felt like he'd been awake for two days straight, but the idea of Briggs at large in Portland with a bow gave him the push he needed. They put out an APB, and Nick made special arrangements for the Quarry's protection.
That's how Hank got back to his desk first.
"Hank," Wu said. "We've got two new bodies."
"Two?" he asked.
"Yeah, both of them deer," Wu replied. "Shot twice in the chest, probably with arrows."
"What do you mean probably?"
"Well, someone removed the arrows after the fact," Wu said. "But the wound patterns match arrows. I'm trying to get them to the ME so the coroner can do a necropsy and confirm for sure."
"I'm guessing Parker isn't happy with that," Hank said.
"No, she is not. Something about poaching not being the same as homicide."
"She's right, Wu. How sure are you that Briggs is responsible? For all we know, someone killed the deer to keep them out of their garden."
"Except these bodies were found in the woods that start a few blocks from the Quarry house. Both were killed this morning within an hour of each other with the same MO as our vic Prey."
"Except the shooter took the arrows," Hank said. "He left them in Prey."
"My guess is that he doesn't have that many arrows," Wu said. "And since he's dropping bodies in the woods instead of houses, he's got plenty of cover to take the arrows out and wipe them off."
"So Briggs attacked his roommate and went into the woods to kill deer?" Hank asked. "I don't get it."
"Neither do I," Wu said. "But we know that yesterday his bow broke right around when he shot Prey, so if he did have something planned, he couldn't continue. Not until he got another weapon."
"Speaking of... have we gotten anywhere on the owner of the bow?" Hank asked.
"I'm glad you asked. Seattle PD picked Davies up, and he issued a statement that he's been at college for the entire semester, no trips anywhere. He also said that he left his bows and arrows with his half-brother, Steven Briggs."
"Damn, that's why we couldn't connect Briggs to archery directly," Hank said. "Davies have any other family in the area?"
"Loads. You want me to run down properties and rentals?" Wu asked.
"Yeah, and Nick and I will check out the deer bodies, just in case," Hank replied.
Dana Scully sat in her home office, trying to focus on the welcome packet for her new job, but every time she started a new page, her mind wandered.
Finding an injured dog the night they moved in was one thing, but discovering a dead body the next morning? Even as a scientist, Scully felt that it was a bad omen, a sign of what life in Portland would be like.
Her other concern was the timing of Skinner's offer. Treeview Hospital invited Scully to join them supposedly because of her pediatric work, and they included her own research lab and funding for any clinical trials she wanted in exchange for a handful of hours teaching or mentoring each week. It was the next logical step in her career, but she knew before she accepted it that the offer was incredibly generous.
She wondered if the FBI somehow roped Treeview into pulling Scully in, so they'd move to the one place where they (or Mulder at least) could investigate America's most curious detective.
Scully closed her eyes to concentrate. Obviously, Mulder's paranoia had rubbed off on her, but his unfortunate tendency to be right made it seem less like paranoia and more like caution.
The doorbell rang.
She went downstairs, even though she knew Mulder had answered the door.
"Hello, I'm Trina Quarry," the visitor said. "I'm here about Rex."
"Please, come in," Mulder said. He led her to the living room. "I'm Mulder, and that over there is Scully."
"Hello Trina," Scully said.
"It's nice to meet you. I heard you're the ones who saved Rex and looked after him," Trina said.
"He's a great dog," Mulder replied. "Would you like anything to drink?"
"No thank you. Can I ask, where is Rex?"
"He's right here," Scully replied pointing to the large dog bed hidden by furniture.
"Look at that, I don't think I've ever seen him rest when a new person is at the door," Trina said.
"Well this big guy and I went on a run this morning, tired him right out," Mulder said. "Isn't that right, Rex?"
The Leonberger finally got to his feet. He went straight to Mulder and sat in front of him, pinning his feet.
"He likes you," Trina said. "Both of you."
"He's an easy dog to like," Scully replied.
"You should keep him," Trina said.
"Oh, no, he belongs with your family," Mulder said. "We couldn't ask you to just give him up."
"He was my brother's dog, and my husband and I have three children. Rex here is bigger than all of them put together. My sister said she could try to take him, but she lives in an apartment in San Francisco. What he really needs is a family with a house and time to spend with him," she said. "I'd never abandon him, but Rex trusts you, I can see that. Would you be willing to adopt him?"
"Of course we would," Scully blurted.
If Mulder disapproved, he was doing a fine job hiding it.
Daniel Davies's father owned a cabin not far from where the two poached deer were found. Nick and Hank left just before lunch. It wasn't very accessible. They had to park where the dirt road ended and walk the rest of the way.
"How far is it from here?" Hank asked.
"'Bout a half mile," Nick replied.
As they made their way through the woods, Hank broached the subject that he'd avoided all morning.
"Nick, what are we gonna do with this guy?"
"First we find him, then we arrest him."
"But what if this was just some guy poaching deer. Right now, he's going down for murder."
Nick shook his head. "Listen, let's say you're right, that the first shot to the thigh was a hunting accident. Briggs followed this guy and shot him inside of a house. That's not an accident, Hank, it's murder."
"But what if Prey looked like an elk or deer or whatever?" Hank asked. "Then after he was shot, turned back to his human form."
"I don't know, Hank, but with all the forensic evidence lining up, we can't let him walk on murder. And I can't think that he believed his roommate was a deer, too."
"Do you remember what I was like after I saw something change from not-human to human after death?" Hank asked. "I put three rounds from my shot gun into my closet. Nothing was there."
"Maybe you're right, but first thing's first, we need to find him and stop him from hurting anyone - or anything - else," Nick said.
"Agreed."
They continued on in silence until they reached the cabin. There were no lights on, but there were pens set up behind the building. They were probably built for dogs, but someone had modified them crudely with what looked like spare materials. The same fence material that bordered the pens had been thrown over the top and secured with little more than bungee cords and duct tape.
There were injured deer inside.
"You check the cabin, I'll check the yard," Nick said. "And I'll see if any of the deer are, you know..."
"People?" Hank suggested.
They split up. Nick took his time. He stopped and listened for any indication that Briggs or anyone else was nearby. All he heard was the sound of heavy footsteps on grass and the occasional clink-scrap of metal on hoof from when one of the deer kicked the fence.
Nick rounded to the other side of the cabin. Each deer had at least one leg injury and what looked like marks on their necks. It was possible Briggs wounded them to subdue them so he could drag them here with some kind of leash.
The Grimm approached the fence, and the deer moved away.
"Listen, my name is Nick Burkhardt," he said to them. "If any one in there happens to be more than just a deer, you need to woge so I can get you out of here."
He felt ridiculous.
Hank came through the back door of the cabin.
"It's clear, he's not here," Hank said. "But he's in the process of making more arrows and God only knows what else."
Nick said, "He's got four deer here, all injured. None of this makes any sense. We've got two deer bodies that say he's killing them but leaving their bodies. We've got one man who might fall under that same category, but what're these four doing here? And how did he get them all so fast? Is it even possible to catch four deer in one day?"
"He's only killed adult deer," Hank said. "These are all pretty young. That one is a fawn."
"So he's been collecting young deer," Nick said. "How long do you think this pen took?"
"Dunno, but we got a big problem," Hank said. "He's not here. I don't think this is the kinda guy who goes out on a milk run, which means he's either killing something or dragging it back here."
Nick pulled out his phone. "I'm calling Monroe. We need someone who can track him."
"What about them?" Hank asked, pointing to the hapless deer.
"If we call a team out here, he'll see them from a mile away and we'll scare him off."
"I say we call Wu, too," Hank said. "You and Monroe track him and try to drive him back this way if you can. Oh, and see if they can bring us some sandwiches."
Monroe had no problem identifying Briggs' scent. Tracking became difficult because he'd traversed a lot of area that morning, but the Blutbad isolated the most recent pathway and followed it.
"This guy smells unhinged," Monroe said.
"Is that some kind of fancy cologne?" Nick asked sarcastically.
"I wish. His scent reeks of fear and agitation."
"What does that mean?"
"Well, you know, for one thing, draw your gun," Monroe replied. "Just in case."
"Wait," Nick said, stopping Monroe. "Listen... can you hear that?"
Leaves rustled, and a young boy whined, then screamed.
"Now that I heard," Monroe said.
They ran for it, jumping over brush and rocks, following the whimpers that were slowly fading.
Nick caught a glimpse of Briggs as they closed in. He wasn't injured, but his expression was disfigured with mania, cruelty, and just a little bit of triumph.
"You thought you could hide from me?" Briggs said. "You thought wrong. I'm going to hunt down every last one of you and slaughter you!"
Briggs had trapped a young fawn in some kind of snare and wrapped a leash around its neck. Like the others, its front leg was injured, likely from the snare capturing it.
Somehow, Nick could tell by looking at the fawn that it wasn't a deer at all.
"Portland PD!" Nick yelled, pointing his gun and making himself visible. "Steven Briggs! You are under arrest! Put your hands in the air and back away from the net."
"You don't understand," Briggs said. "This isn't a deer. This is a man that can transform into a monster. It just looks like a deer."
"I said, step back!" Nick yelled.
"I know it sounds crazy," Briggs said. "I'm not crazy. I've seen it. I tracked a deer and found a man, and I thought I'd made a mistake. But I saw him when he pulled the arrow out of his leg. He transformed right in front of me, roaring as he pulled that arrow right through his thigh, like it was nothing. That was his mistake because he wasn't a man or an animal then, but something in between. I saw it. And after I hit him twice in the chest, you know what happened? He became a man again. I can prove it to you, Portland PD Detective! You're my witness! I can prove it to you because these monsters can't hide in death!"
In one fluid motion, Briggs took the hunting knife from his belt and went for the fawn's throat.
BANG! BANG!
Nick hit him once in the arm and once in the upper chest. Briggs crumpled to the ground, and Nick kicked away his knife and cuffed his good arm to his bad arm, keeping them in front of the body.
Monroe yanked the snare apart, freeing the fawn.
"Uh, Nick," he said. "Is this... you know? And if so, what do I do?"
"Yes," Nick said. "Take this poor fawn to one of the wild life rescue centers. He's going to need help. I'll text you the address of the nearest one."
"Right," Monroe replied, cottoning onto Nick's tone. As he picked up the baby deer, he spoke to it, saying "Listen, buddy, I know you've had some bad experiences today, but don't kick me in the face."
"Hank, we need a medical pickup. Our suspect has two gunshot wounds. I don't think I should move him," Nick said into his phone. "Right, good, thanks partner."
"You know," Briggs said from the ground. "You know that fawn isn't a deer! You're one of them, aren't you?"
"What do you think they are, exactly?"
"Skinwalkers," he said. "Or were-deer. Like werewolves but deer. They're people and animals at the same time, and we both know that's just not right. Life makes us one or the other, not both. Anything that tries to have two bodies is aberrant, evil, defying nature! You need to kill them all! They all need to die!"
Briggs snarled his words, but they lost their venom as he became weaker.
"You should be quiet, Mr. Briggs," Nick said. "The EMTs are on their way. Also, Steven Briggs, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law..."
Hank and Nick waited in the Captain's office, wary of how their report would be received.
"Good, you're here," Renard said as he came in. "So, according to your report, Briggs had been capturing live fawns and young deer and penning them at a cabin?"
"That's right, sir," Nick said. "According to his roommate, Jason Anderson, Briggs wanted to use them as bait."
"He must've been fishing for something pretty big," Renard said. "Any idea what it was?"
"Lycanthropes," Hank replied. "Briggs believed that Portland had a large werewolf population. He wanted to prove their existence by baiting a trap and capturing one."
"You're serious?" Renard asked.
"Unfortunately, yes," Nick said. "Right now, we're looking for any evidence that our vic was at the cabin. Our working theory is that Prey discovered the pen and tried to free the deer, but - "
"Steven Briggs killed him for his trouble?" Renard suggested.
"Pretty much, yes," Hank said.
"That makes sense, except for the fact that this man is ranting about were-deer not werewolves. I just got an earful about how you shot him to save a fawn, Nick. He says you're protecting the were-deer because you're one of them," Renard said. He sat down and said, "Tell me what the Hell is going on."
Nick said, "Short version? That wasn't a fawn. That was a boy named Bowdyn Quarry, age eight, nephew to our victim, Ronan Sawyer Prey. The hospital checked him out - he's fine - and CSI documented his injuries and collected forensics. It shows that he was the one in that net, not a fawn."
"What kind of forensics?" Renard asked.
Nick replied, "I don't have the final report yet, but they've concluded that Bowdyn's injuries were sustained by being trapped in a snare and suspended mid-air in a net for about an hour."
"Bruises and scrapes on his neck match the collar that Briggs was using on the deer," Hank added. "We've got hair, fibers, and blood from Briggs on the kid. Forensically, this is a slam-dunk, Captain."
"So our man Briggs is delusional?" Renard asked.
"Not really," Hank said. "The Preys and the Quarrys are Carria-chalma and Faidh-chalma and can woge or whatever into something that looks like a deer."
"Actually, we were hoping you might have a way to deal with that," Nick said. "Maybe a Royal warning reminding them that they shouldn't run around Portland like deer for their own safety."
"What about the Wesen Council?" Renard asked.
"I don't want to involve them," Nick replied. "Mostly because they sent a bounty hunter after me a few weeks ago, and I don't think the Quarrys need anymore punishment."
Hank said, "Especially because the only two we know have done it are an eight-year-old and a man who died because of it."
"I can issue an... unofficial warning," Renard said. "They might not listen, and if that's the case and they become a problem again - "
"Then we'll have Rosalee call the council," Nick completed.
"All right, I just have one question," Renard said. "Is the werewolf thing real?"
"Technically, yes," Nick said. "It had been a life-long dream of his to prove werewolves exist."
"We might've taken a few liberties when writing up our report," Hank said. "Drawing a few conclusions that weren't spelled out but were clear to us."
"And did you draw similar conclusions in the case of Ronan Sawyer Prey?" Renard asked.
"The physical evidence tells us his story," Hank replied.
"Just to be safe, let's be sure to find something of Prey's at that cabin. Anything that suggests he was there before Briggs killed him," Renard said.
"Already taken care of," Nick replied.
"You realize that this guy could use the insanity plea?" Renard asked. "He'll probably end up in a treatment facility instead of a prison."
"If the DA asked either of us, we'd both agree," Hank said. "At one point, this guy honestly thought he was killing a deer."
Nick added, "He saw someone woge, probably for the first time, and he lost it. We can't let this guy run around Portland trying to kill all the were-deer and whatever else he thinks he's found, but this isn't a cut-and-dry murder. He saw something he couldn't explain, something he thought was a monster, and he shot to kill."
"Trouble is, this guy followed Prey to his home, or a house in any case, and killed him there," Hank said. "While we were waiting for the EMTs, he kept on saying how he was gonna kill them all. Maybe it's not simple case of murder, but it was no hunting accident, either."
"I'll ask the DA to push for a plea deal with treatment at a mental health facility," Renard said. "And I'll put in a word with the Quarry family."
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Primary Post: Addendum GW
End of Chapter Notes
Term Reference and Pronunciation Guide
The following universe-specific terms were referenced in this chapter. A single asterisk (*) indicates that the term has been augmented/modified from canon. A double asterisk (**) indicates terms original to Addendum GW.
** carria-chalma (pronounced CAW-ria hanah-mah, roughly translates from Irish/Scots Gaelic as 'valiant stag' or 'valiant hart') - term used for male members of the elk-like schierwesen species
** fiadh-chalma (pronounced FEE-a hanah-mah, roughly translates from Irish/Scots Gaelic as 'valiant deer') - term used for female members of the elk-like schierwesen species
kehrseite (pronounced KER-zytuh, translates from German as 'the flip side' or 'the other side') - the term wesen use to describe non-wesen individuals
kehrseite-genträger [alternatively spelled: kehrseite-gentrager] (pronounced KER-zytuh-geen-tray-ger, translates from German as 'gene carrier') - a child of a wesen/kehrseite couple who is not wesen but has recessive wesen genes
** schierwesen (pronounced share-VES-sin, translates from German as 'pure being' or 'pure nature') - the term used for certain wesen species that possess the potential to master a secondary woge into full animal form (alternatively called zweifachwesen)
wesen (pronounced VES-sin) - the collective term for the various types or species of parahuman beings that can be seen by Grimms.
woge (pronounced VOL-guh, translated from German as 'wave' or 'surge') - the term used to describe the transformation between human appearance and the other being or nature of any wesen (e.g. when Monroe woges, his Blutbad nature appears, and he has wolf-like features)
** zweifachwesen (pronounced swhy-fah-VES-sin, translates from German as 'dual nature' or 'twofold being') - the term used for certain wesen species that possess the potential to master a secondary woge into full animal form (alternatively called schierwesen)
Subtitle: Among the Leaves so Green-o (Part Two)
Author: dracox-serdriel
Word count: 11,163 (total for chapter)
Rating: R
Warnings: language, graphic descriptions of violence, violence against animals, animal abuse, mentions of psychotic behavior
Important: This chapter has been broken into two parts because of the length restrictions on Livejournal.
Chapter notes: For common terminology definitions and pronunciation, see end-of-chapter notes.
Nick was having a very bad day. The investigation hadn't brought anything to light but a handful of nosy neighbors. Nobody with a bow or a dog bite turned up, and running down Ronan Sawyer's associates was a bust. Everyone alibied out. So far the working theory was a hunting accident that somehow precipitate a homicide.
He was about to leave the station when Juliette called.
"Juliette, I'm on my way home now," he said as he answered the phone.
"Nick, I'm canceling."
"What?"
"I'm canceling tonight," she said. "Rosalee called me. I'm guessing you told her?"
"No, I told Monroe... I'm sorry, I guess I just thought that they already knew."
"It's fine, Nick. It's fine. But she called me and said she wanted to talk with me about it."
"All right, I'll pick you up."
"No," she said. "I know you're trying to help, Nick, but whatever Rosalee finds, whatever choices she gives me, I'm going to be the one to decide. It's my decision, not ours."
"I understand that. I just want to support you."
"Your first instinct was to try and reverse this, like you had to fix me," Juliette said. "But for the first time, I've been able to protect myself in your world, Nick. Maybe this was meant to happen."
"I guess that's possible," Nick said, though he couldn't hide the disappointment in his voice.
"See, you say that, but I can tell that you don't mean it," she replied. "But if you want to make this work, then you've got to make peace with the fact that, even if there is a way to reverse this, I might choose not to."
"Juliette, if that's what you want, then I'll support you," he replied. "I wasn't trying to fix you... I just wanted you to have a choice."
"I don't know how long I'll be at the Spice Shop," Juliette said, changing topics. "But for now it might be best if you sleep in the guestroom."
"Right, well, I'll see you tonight, maybe," he replied.
"Good night, Nick."
Hank went to Monroe's house as soon as he got his text, gladly abandoning his TV diner.
"See you got the message, too," Hank said to Nick.
"Yeah."
"You okay?" he asked.
"Not really."
Monroe opened the door before they even knocked. "Good, you're here. Wu and I have been waiting. We ordered Chinese."
Hank and Nick joined Wu and Monroe, helping themselves to generous portions of pork fried rice, beef with broccoli, and General Tao's chicken.
"Nick, you look like Hell," Wu said.
"Well, yeah, obviously," Monroe said. "If I were in his shoes, I'd look like Hell too."
"Why's that?" Hank asked. "Is something going on, Nick?"
"Uh, yeah, between me and Juliette," he said. "But we didn't come here to discuss that, right?"
Monroe switched gears.
"Wu called the Spice Shop about something called a Fiadh-chalma. He couldn't find it in any of the Grimm anthologies," Monroe began.
"I did find something called a Carria-chalma. Captured a picture of the page with my phone, take a look," Wu said.
Hank glanced at the sketch of an elk-like wesen.
"That's what they looked like," Nick said.
"Trouble is, your ancestors didn't have much to say about them, except it was rumored to kill by crushing or trampling," Wu said. "One line in one book, and that's all they wrote."
"And when I heard what you were looking for, I was like, boy howdy," Monroe said.
"You've heard of them?" Nick asked.
Monroe replied, "Hell yeah I heard of them. First, Carria-chalma is for stags, and Fiadh-chalma for doe. They're the same species. They're a Celtic wesen but not just any wesen, schierwesen, sometimes called zweifachwesen but that term's kinda antiquated if you ask me or, you know, any wesen born after the Enlightenment."
"Beyond being harder to pronounce, how's that different from a regular wesen?" Wu asked.
"A handful of wesen species possess the ability to take on complete animal form," Monroe explained. "Not to be confused with some species where it's incidental because the wesen form has so much similarity with the human form that you can't tell the difference when they woge, you know, like primate or bear wesen. I mean, some Jagerbar look just like bears when they transform, provided they're naked and really pissed off, but what I'm talking about now is completely different, a fundamentally different kind of woge that's gotta be learned. Any schierwesen that figures out how to do it can take on a complete animal form of their wesen selves, even with drastically different anatomy. From what I hear, it's incredible, a sort of return to nature that they have - I mean, if the individual chooses to learn it - in addition to the ordinary woge that you all have seen before. And once Wu started asking me about them and said that bit about the Grimms not writing much about them, I thought, hey, maybe it's because of the animal form. I mean, Grimms wouldn't waste their time hunting down some animal that trampled someone to death."
"You're saying that these Faidh- and Carria-chalma can woge into a full deer?" Nick asked.
"More like Irish elk, if we can trust your ancestors' sketch," Hank commented.
"Definitely, but they're closer to reindeer-size," Monroe said. "Those Irish elk things were huge. You know, before they went extinct."
"Could it be possible that this is just some kind of hunting accident?" Hank asked. "Our vic would look like a deer or elk, right? Our guy sees him and takes a shot, not knowing that it's actually a person."
"Maybe, except hunting season for deer in Portland runs October to November, and he was found inside a house," Wu replied.
"Do they have any kind of natural enemies?" Hank asked. "Someone who might've killed Prey just for being a, uh, Carria-chalma?"
Monroe replied, "Actually, no. If anything, they're known for their ability to guide, literally and figuratively. Through the woods or through personal revelations and spiritual turmoil. In fact, they're the origin of the symbolism of the white stag. You know, that thing that is always desired but always just out of reach."
"So we still got nothing," Hank said.
"Are you kidding?" Monroe said. "There are schierwesen in Portland. That's incredible!"
"Really?" Wu said. "I thought Portland was full of wesen."
"Yeah, but schierwesen are old school and don't really migrate," Monroe said. "For an old world Celtic species to be in America? That's... kind of a big deal."
"But probably not related to the case," Hank said. "Those photographs we got from Stiles did capture a person, but you couldn't make out who. I gave them to the IT guys to see if they could enhance them and make an ID."
They spent the next minute or so eating in silence.
"Well, if we're done with the case, then I guess I should fill you guys in," Nick said.
"Ah, the reason you look like Hell," Wu said. "Let me guess, Juliette's pregnant?"
"No, no, I wish that's... no, she's not," Nick said. "She's a Hexenbiest."
And that was just the start of that conversation.
Nick woke to the sound of his cell ringing, but it took him a few moments to find his phone in the guestroom.
"Burkhardt," he answered.
"Nick," Hank replied. "I just got a call from officers responding to a nine one one. Jason Anderson was attacked in his home. He was taken to the hospital, not likely talking anytime soon."
"You think it's the same guy who killed Prey?" Nick asked.
"All I know is, they're holding the scene for us," Hank said. "And since it's barely six in the morning, we should get there sooner rather than later. I don't want to deal with cranky forensics techs."
After leaving Juliette a note and a pot of coffee, Nick met Hank at the residence of Jason Anderson and Steven Briggs.
"Are you the detectives?" an on-scene officer asked. "I'm Officer Lexus Herald, I was the first on scene."
"Can you run down your response on this?" Hank asked.
"Nine one one received a call from this house. I was on patrol, got the call, and responded. That was around five fifteen this morning. When I arrived, the door was open. Not just unlocked, but open. I called inside. No response. I went in and found a young man unconscious on the floor. He had a head wound. I called for EMTs. While we were waiting, he regained consciousness briefly and told me his name, Jason Anderson, and said his roommate attacked him. He tried to say more, but he was too weak. He remained conscious until a few minutes after the EMTs got here. They took him to the hospital, and I secured the scene."
"Thank you, Officer Herald," Nick said. "We'll take it from here."
Hank started in the living room, while Nick went to the living room. He found signs of a struggle: overturned chairs, blood on the walls and floor, and indentations along the wall and dining room table, likely made during a bodily collision. The fight in here had been furious, like a tornado touching down.
"Nick, you need to see this!" Hank yelled.
The Grimm joined his partner in the living room. Hank had on a pair of crime scene gloves, so Nick followed suit and snapped some on, too.
"You found something?" Nick asked.
"Sure did," he replied.
Hank bent down behind the sofa and picked up an awkwardly shaped object. It was the body of a short reflex bow with a broken limb and bowstring.
"Any chance that's blood?" Nick asked, pointing to a brownish-red discoloration on the string.
"Don't know, but is it just me, or does this look like a bite mark?" Hank asked as he indicated the break on the limb.
"Juliette said that the injury on the dog's nose and neck could've come from a whip," Nick said. "What if Rex bit through the limb or string and broke it? The tension in the string could've caused a whip-like injury."
"Then all we'd have to do is match the blood on this string to the dog, and we can put our suspect at the scene of the crime."
"It also means that our guy is down a weapon," Nick said. "He'll need to get a new one."
"I dunno," Hank replied. "He could be using whatever was hanging up there."
He pointed to the mantle above the fireplace. There were four pegs paired off horizontally, but nothing was on display.
"We've no way to know if they had two bows up there," Nick said. "But I've got a bad feeling that you're right, and our guy has just brained his roommate, taken a new weapon, and is somewhere in Portland, ready to use it."
Hank felt like he'd been awake for two days straight, but the idea of Briggs at large in Portland with a bow gave him the push he needed. They put out an APB, and Nick made special arrangements for the Quarry's protection.
That's how Hank got back to his desk first.
"Hank," Wu said. "We've got two new bodies."
"Two?" he asked.
"Yeah, both of them deer," Wu replied. "Shot twice in the chest, probably with arrows."
"What do you mean probably?"
"Well, someone removed the arrows after the fact," Wu said. "But the wound patterns match arrows. I'm trying to get them to the ME so the coroner can do a necropsy and confirm for sure."
"I'm guessing Parker isn't happy with that," Hank said.
"No, she is not. Something about poaching not being the same as homicide."
"She's right, Wu. How sure are you that Briggs is responsible? For all we know, someone killed the deer to keep them out of their garden."
"Except these bodies were found in the woods that start a few blocks from the Quarry house. Both were killed this morning within an hour of each other with the same MO as our vic Prey."
"Except the shooter took the arrows," Hank said. "He left them in Prey."
"My guess is that he doesn't have that many arrows," Wu said. "And since he's dropping bodies in the woods instead of houses, he's got plenty of cover to take the arrows out and wipe them off."
"So Briggs attacked his roommate and went into the woods to kill deer?" Hank asked. "I don't get it."
"Neither do I," Wu said. "But we know that yesterday his bow broke right around when he shot Prey, so if he did have something planned, he couldn't continue. Not until he got another weapon."
"Speaking of... have we gotten anywhere on the owner of the bow?" Hank asked.
"I'm glad you asked. Seattle PD picked Davies up, and he issued a statement that he's been at college for the entire semester, no trips anywhere. He also said that he left his bows and arrows with his half-brother, Steven Briggs."
"Damn, that's why we couldn't connect Briggs to archery directly," Hank said. "Davies have any other family in the area?"
"Loads. You want me to run down properties and rentals?" Wu asked.
"Yeah, and Nick and I will check out the deer bodies, just in case," Hank replied.
Dana Scully sat in her home office, trying to focus on the welcome packet for her new job, but every time she started a new page, her mind wandered.
Finding an injured dog the night they moved in was one thing, but discovering a dead body the next morning? Even as a scientist, Scully felt that it was a bad omen, a sign of what life in Portland would be like.
Her other concern was the timing of Skinner's offer. Treeview Hospital invited Scully to join them supposedly because of her pediatric work, and they included her own research lab and funding for any clinical trials she wanted in exchange for a handful of hours teaching or mentoring each week. It was the next logical step in her career, but she knew before she accepted it that the offer was incredibly generous.
She wondered if the FBI somehow roped Treeview into pulling Scully in, so they'd move to the one place where they (or Mulder at least) could investigate America's most curious detective.
Scully closed her eyes to concentrate. Obviously, Mulder's paranoia had rubbed off on her, but his unfortunate tendency to be right made it seem less like paranoia and more like caution.
The doorbell rang.
She went downstairs, even though she knew Mulder had answered the door.
"Hello, I'm Trina Quarry," the visitor said. "I'm here about Rex."
"Please, come in," Mulder said. He led her to the living room. "I'm Mulder, and that over there is Scully."
"Hello Trina," Scully said.
"It's nice to meet you. I heard you're the ones who saved Rex and looked after him," Trina said.
"He's a great dog," Mulder replied. "Would you like anything to drink?"
"No thank you. Can I ask, where is Rex?"
"He's right here," Scully replied pointing to the large dog bed hidden by furniture.
"Look at that, I don't think I've ever seen him rest when a new person is at the door," Trina said.
"Well this big guy and I went on a run this morning, tired him right out," Mulder said. "Isn't that right, Rex?"
The Leonberger finally got to his feet. He went straight to Mulder and sat in front of him, pinning his feet.
"He likes you," Trina said. "Both of you."
"He's an easy dog to like," Scully replied.
"You should keep him," Trina said.
"Oh, no, he belongs with your family," Mulder said. "We couldn't ask you to just give him up."
"He was my brother's dog, and my husband and I have three children. Rex here is bigger than all of them put together. My sister said she could try to take him, but she lives in an apartment in San Francisco. What he really needs is a family with a house and time to spend with him," she said. "I'd never abandon him, but Rex trusts you, I can see that. Would you be willing to adopt him?"
"Of course we would," Scully blurted.
If Mulder disapproved, he was doing a fine job hiding it.
Daniel Davies's father owned a cabin not far from where the two poached deer were found. Nick and Hank left just before lunch. It wasn't very accessible. They had to park where the dirt road ended and walk the rest of the way.
"How far is it from here?" Hank asked.
"'Bout a half mile," Nick replied.
As they made their way through the woods, Hank broached the subject that he'd avoided all morning.
"Nick, what are we gonna do with this guy?"
"First we find him, then we arrest him."
"But what if this was just some guy poaching deer. Right now, he's going down for murder."
Nick shook his head. "Listen, let's say you're right, that the first shot to the thigh was a hunting accident. Briggs followed this guy and shot him inside of a house. That's not an accident, Hank, it's murder."
"But what if Prey looked like an elk or deer or whatever?" Hank asked. "Then after he was shot, turned back to his human form."
"I don't know, Hank, but with all the forensic evidence lining up, we can't let him walk on murder. And I can't think that he believed his roommate was a deer, too."
"Do you remember what I was like after I saw something change from not-human to human after death?" Hank asked. "I put three rounds from my shot gun into my closet. Nothing was there."
"Maybe you're right, but first thing's first, we need to find him and stop him from hurting anyone - or anything - else," Nick said.
"Agreed."
They continued on in silence until they reached the cabin. There were no lights on, but there were pens set up behind the building. They were probably built for dogs, but someone had modified them crudely with what looked like spare materials. The same fence material that bordered the pens had been thrown over the top and secured with little more than bungee cords and duct tape.
There were injured deer inside.
"You check the cabin, I'll check the yard," Nick said. "And I'll see if any of the deer are, you know..."
"People?" Hank suggested.
They split up. Nick took his time. He stopped and listened for any indication that Briggs or anyone else was nearby. All he heard was the sound of heavy footsteps on grass and the occasional clink-scrap of metal on hoof from when one of the deer kicked the fence.
Nick rounded to the other side of the cabin. Each deer had at least one leg injury and what looked like marks on their necks. It was possible Briggs wounded them to subdue them so he could drag them here with some kind of leash.
The Grimm approached the fence, and the deer moved away.
"Listen, my name is Nick Burkhardt," he said to them. "If any one in there happens to be more than just a deer, you need to woge so I can get you out of here."
He felt ridiculous.
Hank came through the back door of the cabin.
"It's clear, he's not here," Hank said. "But he's in the process of making more arrows and God only knows what else."
Nick said, "He's got four deer here, all injured. None of this makes any sense. We've got two deer bodies that say he's killing them but leaving their bodies. We've got one man who might fall under that same category, but what're these four doing here? And how did he get them all so fast? Is it even possible to catch four deer in one day?"
"He's only killed adult deer," Hank said. "These are all pretty young. That one is a fawn."
"So he's been collecting young deer," Nick said. "How long do you think this pen took?"
"Dunno, but we got a big problem," Hank said. "He's not here. I don't think this is the kinda guy who goes out on a milk run, which means he's either killing something or dragging it back here."
Nick pulled out his phone. "I'm calling Monroe. We need someone who can track him."
"What about them?" Hank asked, pointing to the hapless deer.
"If we call a team out here, he'll see them from a mile away and we'll scare him off."
"I say we call Wu, too," Hank said. "You and Monroe track him and try to drive him back this way if you can. Oh, and see if they can bring us some sandwiches."
Monroe had no problem identifying Briggs' scent. Tracking became difficult because he'd traversed a lot of area that morning, but the Blutbad isolated the most recent pathway and followed it.
"This guy smells unhinged," Monroe said.
"Is that some kind of fancy cologne?" Nick asked sarcastically.
"I wish. His scent reeks of fear and agitation."
"What does that mean?"
"Well, you know, for one thing, draw your gun," Monroe replied. "Just in case."
"Wait," Nick said, stopping Monroe. "Listen... can you hear that?"
Leaves rustled, and a young boy whined, then screamed.
"Now that I heard," Monroe said.
They ran for it, jumping over brush and rocks, following the whimpers that were slowly fading.
Nick caught a glimpse of Briggs as they closed in. He wasn't injured, but his expression was disfigured with mania, cruelty, and just a little bit of triumph.
"You thought you could hide from me?" Briggs said. "You thought wrong. I'm going to hunt down every last one of you and slaughter you!"
Briggs had trapped a young fawn in some kind of snare and wrapped a leash around its neck. Like the others, its front leg was injured, likely from the snare capturing it.
Somehow, Nick could tell by looking at the fawn that it wasn't a deer at all.
"Portland PD!" Nick yelled, pointing his gun and making himself visible. "Steven Briggs! You are under arrest! Put your hands in the air and back away from the net."
"You don't understand," Briggs said. "This isn't a deer. This is a man that can transform into a monster. It just looks like a deer."
"I said, step back!" Nick yelled.
"I know it sounds crazy," Briggs said. "I'm not crazy. I've seen it. I tracked a deer and found a man, and I thought I'd made a mistake. But I saw him when he pulled the arrow out of his leg. He transformed right in front of me, roaring as he pulled that arrow right through his thigh, like it was nothing. That was his mistake because he wasn't a man or an animal then, but something in between. I saw it. And after I hit him twice in the chest, you know what happened? He became a man again. I can prove it to you, Portland PD Detective! You're my witness! I can prove it to you because these monsters can't hide in death!"
In one fluid motion, Briggs took the hunting knife from his belt and went for the fawn's throat.
BANG! BANG!
Nick hit him once in the arm and once in the upper chest. Briggs crumpled to the ground, and Nick kicked away his knife and cuffed his good arm to his bad arm, keeping them in front of the body.
Monroe yanked the snare apart, freeing the fawn.
"Uh, Nick," he said. "Is this... you know? And if so, what do I do?"
"Yes," Nick said. "Take this poor fawn to one of the wild life rescue centers. He's going to need help. I'll text you the address of the nearest one."
"Right," Monroe replied, cottoning onto Nick's tone. As he picked up the baby deer, he spoke to it, saying "Listen, buddy, I know you've had some bad experiences today, but don't kick me in the face."
"Hank, we need a medical pickup. Our suspect has two gunshot wounds. I don't think I should move him," Nick said into his phone. "Right, good, thanks partner."
"You know," Briggs said from the ground. "You know that fawn isn't a deer! You're one of them, aren't you?"
"What do you think they are, exactly?"
"Skinwalkers," he said. "Or were-deer. Like werewolves but deer. They're people and animals at the same time, and we both know that's just not right. Life makes us one or the other, not both. Anything that tries to have two bodies is aberrant, evil, defying nature! You need to kill them all! They all need to die!"
Briggs snarled his words, but they lost their venom as he became weaker.
"You should be quiet, Mr. Briggs," Nick said. "The EMTs are on their way. Also, Steven Briggs, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law..."
Hank and Nick waited in the Captain's office, wary of how their report would be received.
"Good, you're here," Renard said as he came in. "So, according to your report, Briggs had been capturing live fawns and young deer and penning them at a cabin?"
"That's right, sir," Nick said. "According to his roommate, Jason Anderson, Briggs wanted to use them as bait."
"He must've been fishing for something pretty big," Renard said. "Any idea what it was?"
"Lycanthropes," Hank replied. "Briggs believed that Portland had a large werewolf population. He wanted to prove their existence by baiting a trap and capturing one."
"You're serious?" Renard asked.
"Unfortunately, yes," Nick said. "Right now, we're looking for any evidence that our vic was at the cabin. Our working theory is that Prey discovered the pen and tried to free the deer, but - "
"Steven Briggs killed him for his trouble?" Renard suggested.
"Pretty much, yes," Hank said.
"That makes sense, except for the fact that this man is ranting about were-deer not werewolves. I just got an earful about how you shot him to save a fawn, Nick. He says you're protecting the were-deer because you're one of them," Renard said. He sat down and said, "Tell me what the Hell is going on."
Nick said, "Short version? That wasn't a fawn. That was a boy named Bowdyn Quarry, age eight, nephew to our victim, Ronan Sawyer Prey. The hospital checked him out - he's fine - and CSI documented his injuries and collected forensics. It shows that he was the one in that net, not a fawn."
"What kind of forensics?" Renard asked.
Nick replied, "I don't have the final report yet, but they've concluded that Bowdyn's injuries were sustained by being trapped in a snare and suspended mid-air in a net for about an hour."
"Bruises and scrapes on his neck match the collar that Briggs was using on the deer," Hank added. "We've got hair, fibers, and blood from Briggs on the kid. Forensically, this is a slam-dunk, Captain."
"So our man Briggs is delusional?" Renard asked.
"Not really," Hank said. "The Preys and the Quarrys are Carria-chalma and Faidh-chalma and can woge or whatever into something that looks like a deer."
"Actually, we were hoping you might have a way to deal with that," Nick said. "Maybe a Royal warning reminding them that they shouldn't run around Portland like deer for their own safety."
"What about the Wesen Council?" Renard asked.
"I don't want to involve them," Nick replied. "Mostly because they sent a bounty hunter after me a few weeks ago, and I don't think the Quarrys need anymore punishment."
Hank said, "Especially because the only two we know have done it are an eight-year-old and a man who died because of it."
"I can issue an... unofficial warning," Renard said. "They might not listen, and if that's the case and they become a problem again - "
"Then we'll have Rosalee call the council," Nick completed.
"All right, I just have one question," Renard said. "Is the werewolf thing real?"
"Technically, yes," Nick said. "It had been a life-long dream of his to prove werewolves exist."
"We might've taken a few liberties when writing up our report," Hank said. "Drawing a few conclusions that weren't spelled out but were clear to us."
"And did you draw similar conclusions in the case of Ronan Sawyer Prey?" Renard asked.
"The physical evidence tells us his story," Hank replied.
"Just to be safe, let's be sure to find something of Prey's at that cabin. Anything that suggests he was there before Briggs killed him," Renard said.
"Already taken care of," Nick replied.
"You realize that this guy could use the insanity plea?" Renard asked. "He'll probably end up in a treatment facility instead of a prison."
"If the DA asked either of us, we'd both agree," Hank said. "At one point, this guy honestly thought he was killing a deer."
Nick added, "He saw someone woge, probably for the first time, and he lost it. We can't let this guy run around Portland trying to kill all the were-deer and whatever else he thinks he's found, but this isn't a cut-and-dry murder. He saw something he couldn't explain, something he thought was a monster, and he shot to kill."
"Trouble is, this guy followed Prey to his home, or a house in any case, and killed him there," Hank said. "While we were waiting for the EMTs, he kept on saying how he was gonna kill them all. Maybe it's not simple case of murder, but it was no hunting accident, either."
"I'll ask the DA to push for a plea deal with treatment at a mental health facility," Renard said. "And I'll put in a word with the Quarry family."
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Chapter Three: Harbringer sec. Apophenia (Part One)
Primary Post: Addendum GW
End of Chapter Notes
Term Reference and Pronunciation Guide
The following universe-specific terms were referenced in this chapter. A single asterisk (*) indicates that the term has been augmented/modified from canon. A double asterisk (**) indicates terms original to Addendum GW.
** carria-chalma (pronounced CAW-ria hanah-mah, roughly translates from Irish/Scots Gaelic as 'valiant stag' or 'valiant hart') - term used for male members of the elk-like schierwesen species
** fiadh-chalma (pronounced FEE-a hanah-mah, roughly translates from Irish/Scots Gaelic as 'valiant deer') - term used for female members of the elk-like schierwesen species
kehrseite (pronounced KER-zytuh, translates from German as 'the flip side' or 'the other side') - the term wesen use to describe non-wesen individuals
kehrseite-genträger [alternatively spelled: kehrseite-gentrager] (pronounced KER-zytuh-geen-tray-ger, translates from German as 'gene carrier') - a child of a wesen/kehrseite couple who is not wesen but has recessive wesen genes
** schierwesen (pronounced share-VES-sin, translates from German as 'pure being' or 'pure nature') - the term used for certain wesen species that possess the potential to master a secondary woge into full animal form (alternatively called zweifachwesen)
wesen (pronounced VES-sin) - the collective term for the various types or species of parahuman beings that can be seen by Grimms.
woge (pronounced VOL-guh, translated from German as 'wave' or 'surge') - the term used to describe the transformation between human appearance and the other being or nature of any wesen (e.g. when Monroe woges, his Blutbad nature appears, and he has wolf-like features)
** zweifachwesen (pronounced swhy-fah-VES-sin, translates from German as 'dual nature' or 'twofold being') - the term used for certain wesen species that possess the potential to master a secondary woge into full animal form (alternatively called schierwesen)