Trio of Ragabashii
Apr. 28th, 2010 09:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shelbyrouIt is currently 14:21 Pacific Time on Wed Apr 28 2010.
Currently the moon is in the waxing Full (Ahroun) Moon phase (99% full).
Shore Around Half Moon Pool
The shadowy canopy of evergreens recedes here, opening into a small clearing. The grass underfoot is a vibrant young green, luxurient and seemingly soft to the touch; small flowers, some purple and others blue or yellow, add to the spread of color. Immediately to the east, the ground rises into a small, rocky outcropping, at the base of which stands a large pool of crystal clear water; the barest rivulet of a stream wends its way south and west from the pool across the clearing, losing itself in the forest. This whole area has about it a sense of peace and silence; the air is cool and fresh, the scent of the flowers pleasant, the colors of the forest in seemingly perfect balance. Anything not pristine or natural seems almost a world away to you here.
The half-moon shaped pool lies just to the east. A faint trail seems to follow the little stream southwest into the forest.
Obvious exits:
Forest Half Moon Pool
A white wolf pads out of the forest from the south, nose up as she follows a scent. She nearly bends to drink from the stream, but after a moment's thought she hops the trickle instead, ears canted irritably. It's turned out to be a lovely afternoon after the morning's chill and drizzle, and the Fang picks the brightest spot of sunshine to shift back in, stretching her hands to the sky before frowning sourly at the pool and its taunting clarity.
A small, dark furred wolf comes padding lazily towards the edge of the pool, looking for a place to lie down and soak in the sun. She pauses once she spots Shleby, considering the girl for a moment before whuffing a soft hello.
Stolen-by-Fae
This wolf is small, with large paws and long legs that relay her youth. She's covered in short, black fur, with a few splotches of white on her ears and right forepaw. Her eyes are a bright amber, and her pink tongue is often lolled out into a grin. She's very aware of her social status in groups, usually assuming a more submissive posture.
The form of another wolf--an adult, to go by size and how it moves--ghosts between the looming trunks of the firs and madrones and larches. It's approaching, but still has a little further to go before it will reach the clearing.
Shelby has claimed one of the better places to sunbathe, unless the black wolf prefers the banks of the stream. "Hello yourself," she answers, chin lifting just a fraction. There's not even a blink toward the approaching Golden. Half a second later she adds, "Shelby Zaleski-Leveque, known as Doesn't Know When to Stop, Ragabash cub of the Silver Fangs and great-great-granddaughter of Valentin Leveque, known as Winter's Snow on Summer's Branches, Adren Galliard." It all tumbles out nearly in one breath, but each syllable clear.
Stolen-by-Fae blinks at Shelby, looking a little amused. She tips her head slightly to one side to peer at the girl a moment longer before shifting back into her birth form to reply. "I'm Sora." She says "Or Stolen-by-Fae. New moon cub of the Uktena." The arriving wolf gets a grin and a nod.
Sora
Small would be the word, she's fairly short and thin, probably ending up a little over five feet if one took the time to measure her. Feature wise she's typically Asian, though the structure of her cheekbones hint at something more European, and her skin is a shade darker than would be expected. Her hair is long, straight, black, and looks like it's sorely in need of a trim. It's usually bound back in a bun behind her head with a bright red or yellow hair band - the only bright colour she's wearing. The rest of her wardrobe is dark blues and blacks, topped with a light black nylon jacket that's a bit worn. When she talks her voice is quiet and unassuming, when she walks her stride is unsure. She certainly wouldn't stand out in a crowd.
Golden pauses in the shadow of an old redcedar, eyes flicking between the two cubs and then to the water. He starts forward, huffing a hello as he goes.
"It's long," Shelby acknowledges with a twist of her lips, "but I'm never sure how much I can leave out. If I can leave anything out." She opens her mouth to go on but catches sight of Golden, stiffening ever so slightly. "Hello, Golden-rhya." Glancing back to the other cub, "What's Fae, if you don't mind me asking? How did you get stolen by it?"
Sora glances back at Golden, giving the Strider a questioning look, and then back towards Shelby. She crosses her arms behind her back. "Fae are... other things. Kinda like spirits. They live in another place but visit here occasionally. A little bit after I first changed, I got lost and stumbled into their world and they wouldn't let me leave until Golden-rhya and Fallout-rhya rescued me."
Golden blows out a breath to Sora's story. We just distracted them. He then spends a moment focusing on the water of the pool, padding right to the edge. He exhibits none of the hesitation in looking at it that's marked his demeanor for the last few weeks. He sniffs, puts one paw in and pulls it back, then laps at the water experimentally. Nothing strange happens, and he has a proper drink.
Shelby asks, "Into the Umbra?" but her attention is caught and held by the Strider. "Oh! Can we drink it now?" She shoots the other girl an apologetic look but hurries to kneel at the water's edge, still hesitating to dip her hands into the pool. "Did whatever made the spirits mad stop?"
Sora walks more slowly towards the water, tipping her head to one side. "I still don't hear it." She murmurs with a frown. She looks over towards Golden expectantly.
Pulling back from the water, Golden regards the two cubs, then grunts. Not for you then. It is okay for me, and for Forest-Spirit. He shifts to his birth form, revealing a canteen clipped to his belt. "I've got some water from off the Bawn, if you're thirsty." It's an old, leather-bound sort, scarred and unconventional but watertight none-the-less.
"Not for us?" the Fang echoes, and while Golden is shifting, dunks her fingers. They look fine under the water, but when she pulls them out, she looks like she's an extra on Supernatural. "Oh, yuck." Shelby climbs back to her feet, absently wiping her hand dry on her leg, and reaches for the canteen gladly. "Who is Forest-Spirit? Why is it ok for you, but not for us? --Thanks." Two swigs and she offers it to Sora.
Sora looks between Tim and Sheldy, lips curling into a slight smile. "Thanks!" She says to the both of them, taking the offered canteen and sipping a small drink, considering the water in the creek as she does so.
"She's Meg. A Theurge from Claude and August's folks. She was thinking probably because I've been, ah, contrite." Tim tries not to look too amused as he says that, which turns his expression wry. "Which works for me, but it's not something we can make the whole Sept do. Not everyone's good with rituals in general, much less the ones I specifically used." He runs a hand over his face and considers things. "Apparently, they spirits saw Garou putting bad stuff in the water on the Bawn." He reports that with a grim look for each cub--a 'bad news' sort of look, not an accusational one.
Shelby's eyebrows go up at Tim being contrite. "Well, why not? How hard would it be to split up into small groups and teach everyone this rite? Or, well, rites? What does being contrite entail, anyway? And who was the idiot who ruined it for everyone?" She considers Sora for a few seconds. "You know anything more about it?"
Sora raises an eyebrow "Me? Why would I know anything about it?" She asks Shelby, confused. And then to Tim: "What about the spill? Does that have anything to do with it, or was it just a red herring? Can we have people doing the rite on behalf of their pack or tribe?"
Tim gives Shelby an uncomfortable look. "Teaching rituals doesn't always work that way. They're more internal and personal, you know? And then what do we do about people who just can't grasp them? There's things you have to reconcile yourself to when you do one, and sooner or later everyone comes across a ritual with something at its core that they cant," he gestures with one hand like he's holding something, "get a grip on." He shrugs about the unavoidability of that. "We don't know who it was, but Fernando's looking into it. The Groundskeeper." The later seems to have been added for Shelby's sake. He says to Sora, "The spill's part of it, so we have to kill those banes, cleanse it, and probably perform Contrition at that site. Contrition on behalf of others..." His voice dies, and he considers it for a second, then shakes his head. "I don't think it'll work, but it's worth asking the blademoons. This is about needing a show of faith as a Sept. There are other things we can do, maybe."
"I don't know; that's why I was asking," Shelby answers Sora with a touch of impatience. She'd go on but Tim has information; as the Strider speaks she goes still, then even more thoughtful. "That doesn't make sense." Specifically what, she doesn't say. "This is just weird. I didn't have anything to do with any of this. I didn't even know I was Garou when it happened. How can I apologize for things I didn't do?" Frustrated, she wraps her arms tighter across her middle and scowls at the ground.
Sora glances over at Shelby. "The spirits don't always think that way." She tells the cub. "Sometimes they just kinda... lump us all together. It's not their job to understand how we work, they just know what sometime's hurting them and this is how they can get it to stop." She blinks at Tim. "Cleansing it near the road... that won't be easy." She mutters. "Did you find out if there was anything special about the spill? Maybe it was involved with the Garou somehow?"
Tim watches Shelby, his eyes narrowed as he listens to Sora's explanation before adding his own. "We're a community. We're a Sept, or a Tribe, or a Pack. We take part in one another's successes and fuckups. We don't have a right to call ourselves part of those groups if we don't go all-in." he glances at Sora to include her in this, then back to Shelby. His tone isn't one of a lecture so much as a plea. "When one of us fucks up and the spirits come to the community, the community has to step up and make it right." He stops, surprised at himself, and his right hand runs along his left arm, as if to trace it. "It doesn't matter if it wasn't you, yourself, that put poison on the Bawn. When you had your First Change and Zosia took you in, you became a cub of this Sept. That means you get protection and teaching from us--and in return you help us fix it when the Sept fucks up, and when you're Rited you teach others how to not fuck up."
Shelby mutters, "Weird," again before looking up, teenage exasperation writ all over her. "Okay, fine. I guess it's like working in teams: everybody has to work together or your grade's going to suck." She checks in with the other cub again before nodding at Tim's arm. "What's with your arm, you okay?"
"It's like that, except you're allowed to yell at stupid team members," Tim says with a sly smile. He pulls his hand from his arm and nods. "Yeah, fine." If ever there was a sweeping of a topic under a rug, that was it. "So, I guess we can get to an important part. You guys might need to beat the drum a little to the other cubs. I can't imagine with Fernando and Zosia seeing to you either of you are at fault, but there's plenty of folks not past their Rite of Passage around here lately." He looks between the two girls. "I doubt I need to remind you, and I don't have permission to lecture you about it anyways, but keep an eye out for your peers. They might do things like bring makeup or perfume or who knows what else without thinking about it."
As to that, Shelby snorts, a little of her good humor restored. "You didn't go to school with me," she claims, her drawl lengthening her vowels even more than usual. "But all right. There was a boy, I don't know, over there maybe," she waves vaguely away from the pond, more or less northish, "smashing his face into trees. I don't think he even knows what soap is, but if I see him again, I'll tell him."
Sora looks over towards where Shelby is pointing. "Tree?" She asks, with a mixture of confusion and amusement. "And I will. Some of the cubs are so new, they might not understand yet." She agrees. "Especially if they can't live at Edgewood anymore, well I guess I can see how it would happen." She shrugs.
Tim blinks. "Smashing his face into...trees." He looks over at where Shelby's gestured, frowning, and says, "Yeah, the Groundskeeper wouldn't be happy about that. I mean, unless this cub did some appropriate rituals to thank the trees for standing in as punching bags?" He sounds like he doesn't expect an affirmative answer to that, and doesn't wait for one either. "Right, with so many new cubs coming and going, I wouldn't be surprised if one did something without realizing it. Which just means we, the Elders, need to be better about teaching you." He eyes Shelby in particular. "Expect more lectures. A lot more."
Shelby repeats, "I don't know. He was going on about how he was practicing tracking after being shot by a three-headed fire-breathing elephant. --He was an ahroun," she adds, like that will somehow explain the crazy. "I left him to it. I think I snuck up on him, though." She makes a resigned face for lectures, almost but not quite sticking out her tongue. "All right, so what happened at Edgewood, that the cubs can't live there? Was it Mariya, or something that happened before her?"
Sora shrugs. "I'm not sure." She admits, "I think it has something to do with the Fallen Ones being nearby." Shelby's description of the Ahroun cub seems to both intrigue and amuse her. "I'm gonna guess Get." She comments.
"Before," Tim says. He sounds like he knows the precise reason. "A group of Fomori attacked, before the ones that took Mariya. We think these might've been linked to that Hive down by the river. We had just me and Jason and three cubs." A grimace for the memory. "I howled for help, but one of the cubs took to Thrall. It was a complete mess. Didn't lose anyone, at least." He smiles faintly, apparently also figuring the cub in question to be Get.
"--Child of Gaia, or so he claimed," Shelby shrugs, who'd-a-thunk. Tim's news is more interesting, though; she nods to Sora but listens to the Strider. "What's Thrall? Do you mean it ran away? It's good you didn't lose anyone," she adds, uncertain if it actually was.
Well, you learn something new everyday. Sora nods at Shelby, and then leads back a little on her heels. "Do you know when cubs will be allowed back?" She asks Tim. "We have a different Warder now, he might have other thoughts?" She shrugs. "Thralling's when you get really angry and loose control and start trying to kill everything in warform." She says darkly. "Like a frenzy only worse, cause the Wyrm gets to you a little so you can do... some really bad things. When you thrall. Luckily we're new moons."
Tim raises his eyebrows. "One of August's? But he was face-planting trees?" He looks skeptical, then confused, and finally shrugs with exasperation. "I think August will be willing to let you all back there once this Hive's dealt with. We don't want to risk them showing up to cart you all off." He makes a face at Shelby's question and doesn't bother to hide his relief that Sora offers an answer. He only adds, "You can come out of a Thrall Corrupted."
"That's what he said," Shelby agrees, shrugging again, only to lose all interest in nonchalance at Sora's explanation. "--Ew. Wait. Luckily we're new moons? You mean the bigger their moon, the more chance somebody has of Thralling and getting corrupted?" Plainly, the Fang is marking this down as another reason to stay clear of Ahroun. "I really need to work on my running."
Sora nods. "I think, I think it's possible for us to Thrall. But it's really really really hard. Some new moons have more Rage than others though. And running," she says, half jokingly "Is a very important new moon skill."
"Not always," Tim says, holding up a hand as if to forestall said running. "I've never see Heart Frenzy. It really depends on the Garou, how much Rage they were born with, what their life's put them through, and what kind of control they have in general." He nods at Sora, and by way of example says, "Have you met Chris? Walks-in-Darkness? He has a fair bit of Rage for a New Moon. Then there's folks like us," he looks at the two cubs in a collegial manner, "who humans barely notice. We've got all kinds, and we *need* all kinds. You should see August and Heart go up against things like fomori." As an afterthought, he adds, "But I definitely know how to run."
Shelby flashes a grin over at Sora. "I keep telling people that, but Zosia says I have to learn to fight." She sobers to shake her head at Tim: no, she hasn't met Chris. "I guess I'll see everybody at a Moot, even if I don't learn all their names. Can I have the water again? Then I think I am going to run a little bit. Maybe there's a three-headed fire-breathing elephant chasing me."
"We all need to know how to fight if we get cornered." Sora points out, though she sounds far from enthusiastic about it. Indeed, it sounds more like she's repeating something she's been told on multiple occasions than something she's actually taken to heart. Apperantly she's never gotten cornered.
"Need to know how to fight if you get cornered," Tim agrees, "or if you need to help someone--like Heart or August." He offers over his canteen to Shelby. "We can practice running now. You two can see if you can catch me." Smug assurance of the outcome is plain on his face and in his voice.
Shelby rolls her eyes companionably at Sora and tilts back the canteen, wipes her mouth after and purses her lips at Tim. "Only if you promise not to use any of your gifts or rites or things. You've already got more experience than both of us put together. Besides, don't you know you have to give people positive experiences if you want them to learn? We covered it in Psychology. Positive reinforcement."
Sora smirks at Tim. "Only if you promise not to use your Strider gift." She chirps, shifting down into lupus as she speaks.
Tim clips the canteen back in place. "No Gifts. I can't promise anything about ritual effects--they linger, and it's hard to control what they do. But I don't know the feather one anyways." He smiles at the two cubs, a brass-halo smile if ever one was given. "Positive, meaning you win, or you learn?" And then he shifts, Rage pushing him straight into lupus, and springs forward under only the momentum of his long-limbed, desert wolf's body. Come, slow pokes! Catch-me!
Shelby cries, "Both! --Oh!" Already at a disadvantage she shoots Sora another grin and waves her on. "You go first, I'm crap at shifting!" It's at least a good three seconds, probably closer to five, before she's into lupus and chasing after the Strider, dashing through the trees and having - no matter how the afternoon ends - a whee of a time.
Currently the moon is in the waxing Full (Ahroun) Moon phase (99% full).
Shore Around Half Moon Pool
The shadowy canopy of evergreens recedes here, opening into a small clearing. The grass underfoot is a vibrant young green, luxurient and seemingly soft to the touch; small flowers, some purple and others blue or yellow, add to the spread of color. Immediately to the east, the ground rises into a small, rocky outcropping, at the base of which stands a large pool of crystal clear water; the barest rivulet of a stream wends its way south and west from the pool across the clearing, losing itself in the forest. This whole area has about it a sense of peace and silence; the air is cool and fresh, the scent of the flowers pleasant, the colors of the forest in seemingly perfect balance. Anything not pristine or natural seems almost a world away to you here.
The half-moon shaped pool lies just to the east. A faint trail seems to follow the little stream southwest into the forest.
Obvious exits:
Forest Half Moon Pool
A white wolf pads out of the forest from the south, nose up as she follows a scent. She nearly bends to drink from the stream, but after a moment's thought she hops the trickle instead, ears canted irritably. It's turned out to be a lovely afternoon after the morning's chill and drizzle, and the Fang picks the brightest spot of sunshine to shift back in, stretching her hands to the sky before frowning sourly at the pool and its taunting clarity.
A small, dark furred wolf comes padding lazily towards the edge of the pool, looking for a place to lie down and soak in the sun. She pauses once she spots Shleby, considering the girl for a moment before whuffing a soft hello.
Stolen-by-Fae
This wolf is small, with large paws and long legs that relay her youth. She's covered in short, black fur, with a few splotches of white on her ears and right forepaw. Her eyes are a bright amber, and her pink tongue is often lolled out into a grin. She's very aware of her social status in groups, usually assuming a more submissive posture.
The form of another wolf--an adult, to go by size and how it moves--ghosts between the looming trunks of the firs and madrones and larches. It's approaching, but still has a little further to go before it will reach the clearing.
Shelby has claimed one of the better places to sunbathe, unless the black wolf prefers the banks of the stream. "Hello yourself," she answers, chin lifting just a fraction. There's not even a blink toward the approaching Golden. Half a second later she adds, "Shelby Zaleski-Leveque, known as Doesn't Know When to Stop, Ragabash cub of the Silver Fangs and great-great-granddaughter of Valentin Leveque, known as Winter's Snow on Summer's Branches, Adren Galliard." It all tumbles out nearly in one breath, but each syllable clear.
Stolen-by-Fae blinks at Shelby, looking a little amused. She tips her head slightly to one side to peer at the girl a moment longer before shifting back into her birth form to reply. "I'm Sora." She says "Or Stolen-by-Fae. New moon cub of the Uktena." The arriving wolf gets a grin and a nod.
Sora
Small would be the word, she's fairly short and thin, probably ending up a little over five feet if one took the time to measure her. Feature wise she's typically Asian, though the structure of her cheekbones hint at something more European, and her skin is a shade darker than would be expected. Her hair is long, straight, black, and looks like it's sorely in need of a trim. It's usually bound back in a bun behind her head with a bright red or yellow hair band - the only bright colour she's wearing. The rest of her wardrobe is dark blues and blacks, topped with a light black nylon jacket that's a bit worn. When she talks her voice is quiet and unassuming, when she walks her stride is unsure. She certainly wouldn't stand out in a crowd.
Golden pauses in the shadow of an old redcedar, eyes flicking between the two cubs and then to the water. He starts forward, huffing a hello as he goes.
"It's long," Shelby acknowledges with a twist of her lips, "but I'm never sure how much I can leave out. If I can leave anything out." She opens her mouth to go on but catches sight of Golden, stiffening ever so slightly. "Hello, Golden-rhya." Glancing back to the other cub, "What's Fae, if you don't mind me asking? How did you get stolen by it?"
Sora glances back at Golden, giving the Strider a questioning look, and then back towards Shelby. She crosses her arms behind her back. "Fae are... other things. Kinda like spirits. They live in another place but visit here occasionally. A little bit after I first changed, I got lost and stumbled into their world and they wouldn't let me leave until Golden-rhya and Fallout-rhya rescued me."
Golden blows out a breath to Sora's story. We just distracted them. He then spends a moment focusing on the water of the pool, padding right to the edge. He exhibits none of the hesitation in looking at it that's marked his demeanor for the last few weeks. He sniffs, puts one paw in and pulls it back, then laps at the water experimentally. Nothing strange happens, and he has a proper drink.
Shelby asks, "Into the Umbra?" but her attention is caught and held by the Strider. "Oh! Can we drink it now?" She shoots the other girl an apologetic look but hurries to kneel at the water's edge, still hesitating to dip her hands into the pool. "Did whatever made the spirits mad stop?"
Sora walks more slowly towards the water, tipping her head to one side. "I still don't hear it." She murmurs with a frown. She looks over towards Golden expectantly.
Pulling back from the water, Golden regards the two cubs, then grunts. Not for you then. It is okay for me, and for Forest-Spirit. He shifts to his birth form, revealing a canteen clipped to his belt. "I've got some water from off the Bawn, if you're thirsty." It's an old, leather-bound sort, scarred and unconventional but watertight none-the-less.
"Not for us?" the Fang echoes, and while Golden is shifting, dunks her fingers. They look fine under the water, but when she pulls them out, she looks like she's an extra on Supernatural. "Oh, yuck." Shelby climbs back to her feet, absently wiping her hand dry on her leg, and reaches for the canteen gladly. "Who is Forest-Spirit? Why is it ok for you, but not for us? --Thanks." Two swigs and she offers it to Sora.
Sora looks between Tim and Sheldy, lips curling into a slight smile. "Thanks!" She says to the both of them, taking the offered canteen and sipping a small drink, considering the water in the creek as she does so.
"She's Meg. A Theurge from Claude and August's folks. She was thinking probably because I've been, ah, contrite." Tim tries not to look too amused as he says that, which turns his expression wry. "Which works for me, but it's not something we can make the whole Sept do. Not everyone's good with rituals in general, much less the ones I specifically used." He runs a hand over his face and considers things. "Apparently, they spirits saw Garou putting bad stuff in the water on the Bawn." He reports that with a grim look for each cub--a 'bad news' sort of look, not an accusational one.
Shelby's eyebrows go up at Tim being contrite. "Well, why not? How hard would it be to split up into small groups and teach everyone this rite? Or, well, rites? What does being contrite entail, anyway? And who was the idiot who ruined it for everyone?" She considers Sora for a few seconds. "You know anything more about it?"
Sora raises an eyebrow "Me? Why would I know anything about it?" She asks Shelby, confused. And then to Tim: "What about the spill? Does that have anything to do with it, or was it just a red herring? Can we have people doing the rite on behalf of their pack or tribe?"
Tim gives Shelby an uncomfortable look. "Teaching rituals doesn't always work that way. They're more internal and personal, you know? And then what do we do about people who just can't grasp them? There's things you have to reconcile yourself to when you do one, and sooner or later everyone comes across a ritual with something at its core that they cant," he gestures with one hand like he's holding something, "get a grip on." He shrugs about the unavoidability of that. "We don't know who it was, but Fernando's looking into it. The Groundskeeper." The later seems to have been added for Shelby's sake. He says to Sora, "The spill's part of it, so we have to kill those banes, cleanse it, and probably perform Contrition at that site. Contrition on behalf of others..." His voice dies, and he considers it for a second, then shakes his head. "I don't think it'll work, but it's worth asking the blademoons. This is about needing a show of faith as a Sept. There are other things we can do, maybe."
"I don't know; that's why I was asking," Shelby answers Sora with a touch of impatience. She'd go on but Tim has information; as the Strider speaks she goes still, then even more thoughtful. "That doesn't make sense." Specifically what, she doesn't say. "This is just weird. I didn't have anything to do with any of this. I didn't even know I was Garou when it happened. How can I apologize for things I didn't do?" Frustrated, she wraps her arms tighter across her middle and scowls at the ground.
Sora glances over at Shelby. "The spirits don't always think that way." She tells the cub. "Sometimes they just kinda... lump us all together. It's not their job to understand how we work, they just know what sometime's hurting them and this is how they can get it to stop." She blinks at Tim. "Cleansing it near the road... that won't be easy." She mutters. "Did you find out if there was anything special about the spill? Maybe it was involved with the Garou somehow?"
Tim watches Shelby, his eyes narrowed as he listens to Sora's explanation before adding his own. "We're a community. We're a Sept, or a Tribe, or a Pack. We take part in one another's successes and fuckups. We don't have a right to call ourselves part of those groups if we don't go all-in." he glances at Sora to include her in this, then back to Shelby. His tone isn't one of a lecture so much as a plea. "When one of us fucks up and the spirits come to the community, the community has to step up and make it right." He stops, surprised at himself, and his right hand runs along his left arm, as if to trace it. "It doesn't matter if it wasn't you, yourself, that put poison on the Bawn. When you had your First Change and Zosia took you in, you became a cub of this Sept. That means you get protection and teaching from us--and in return you help us fix it when the Sept fucks up, and when you're Rited you teach others how to not fuck up."
Shelby mutters, "Weird," again before looking up, teenage exasperation writ all over her. "Okay, fine. I guess it's like working in teams: everybody has to work together or your grade's going to suck." She checks in with the other cub again before nodding at Tim's arm. "What's with your arm, you okay?"
"It's like that, except you're allowed to yell at stupid team members," Tim says with a sly smile. He pulls his hand from his arm and nods. "Yeah, fine." If ever there was a sweeping of a topic under a rug, that was it. "So, I guess we can get to an important part. You guys might need to beat the drum a little to the other cubs. I can't imagine with Fernando and Zosia seeing to you either of you are at fault, but there's plenty of folks not past their Rite of Passage around here lately." He looks between the two girls. "I doubt I need to remind you, and I don't have permission to lecture you about it anyways, but keep an eye out for your peers. They might do things like bring makeup or perfume or who knows what else without thinking about it."
As to that, Shelby snorts, a little of her good humor restored. "You didn't go to school with me," she claims, her drawl lengthening her vowels even more than usual. "But all right. There was a boy, I don't know, over there maybe," she waves vaguely away from the pond, more or less northish, "smashing his face into trees. I don't think he even knows what soap is, but if I see him again, I'll tell him."
Sora looks over towards where Shelby is pointing. "Tree?" She asks, with a mixture of confusion and amusement. "And I will. Some of the cubs are so new, they might not understand yet." She agrees. "Especially if they can't live at Edgewood anymore, well I guess I can see how it would happen." She shrugs.
Tim blinks. "Smashing his face into...trees." He looks over at where Shelby's gestured, frowning, and says, "Yeah, the Groundskeeper wouldn't be happy about that. I mean, unless this cub did some appropriate rituals to thank the trees for standing in as punching bags?" He sounds like he doesn't expect an affirmative answer to that, and doesn't wait for one either. "Right, with so many new cubs coming and going, I wouldn't be surprised if one did something without realizing it. Which just means we, the Elders, need to be better about teaching you." He eyes Shelby in particular. "Expect more lectures. A lot more."
Shelby repeats, "I don't know. He was going on about how he was practicing tracking after being shot by a three-headed fire-breathing elephant. --He was an ahroun," she adds, like that will somehow explain the crazy. "I left him to it. I think I snuck up on him, though." She makes a resigned face for lectures, almost but not quite sticking out her tongue. "All right, so what happened at Edgewood, that the cubs can't live there? Was it Mariya, or something that happened before her?"
Sora shrugs. "I'm not sure." She admits, "I think it has something to do with the Fallen Ones being nearby." Shelby's description of the Ahroun cub seems to both intrigue and amuse her. "I'm gonna guess Get." She comments.
"Before," Tim says. He sounds like he knows the precise reason. "A group of Fomori attacked, before the ones that took Mariya. We think these might've been linked to that Hive down by the river. We had just me and Jason and three cubs." A grimace for the memory. "I howled for help, but one of the cubs took to Thrall. It was a complete mess. Didn't lose anyone, at least." He smiles faintly, apparently also figuring the cub in question to be Get.
"--Child of Gaia, or so he claimed," Shelby shrugs, who'd-a-thunk. Tim's news is more interesting, though; she nods to Sora but listens to the Strider. "What's Thrall? Do you mean it ran away? It's good you didn't lose anyone," she adds, uncertain if it actually was.
Well, you learn something new everyday. Sora nods at Shelby, and then leads back a little on her heels. "Do you know when cubs will be allowed back?" She asks Tim. "We have a different Warder now, he might have other thoughts?" She shrugs. "Thralling's when you get really angry and loose control and start trying to kill everything in warform." She says darkly. "Like a frenzy only worse, cause the Wyrm gets to you a little so you can do... some really bad things. When you thrall. Luckily we're new moons."
Tim raises his eyebrows. "One of August's? But he was face-planting trees?" He looks skeptical, then confused, and finally shrugs with exasperation. "I think August will be willing to let you all back there once this Hive's dealt with. We don't want to risk them showing up to cart you all off." He makes a face at Shelby's question and doesn't bother to hide his relief that Sora offers an answer. He only adds, "You can come out of a Thrall Corrupted."
"That's what he said," Shelby agrees, shrugging again, only to lose all interest in nonchalance at Sora's explanation. "--Ew. Wait. Luckily we're new moons? You mean the bigger their moon, the more chance somebody has of Thralling and getting corrupted?" Plainly, the Fang is marking this down as another reason to stay clear of Ahroun. "I really need to work on my running."
Sora nods. "I think, I think it's possible for us to Thrall. But it's really really really hard. Some new moons have more Rage than others though. And running," she says, half jokingly "Is a very important new moon skill."
"Not always," Tim says, holding up a hand as if to forestall said running. "I've never see Heart Frenzy. It really depends on the Garou, how much Rage they were born with, what their life's put them through, and what kind of control they have in general." He nods at Sora, and by way of example says, "Have you met Chris? Walks-in-Darkness? He has a fair bit of Rage for a New Moon. Then there's folks like us," he looks at the two cubs in a collegial manner, "who humans barely notice. We've got all kinds, and we *need* all kinds. You should see August and Heart go up against things like fomori." As an afterthought, he adds, "But I definitely know how to run."
Shelby flashes a grin over at Sora. "I keep telling people that, but Zosia says I have to learn to fight." She sobers to shake her head at Tim: no, she hasn't met Chris. "I guess I'll see everybody at a Moot, even if I don't learn all their names. Can I have the water again? Then I think I am going to run a little bit. Maybe there's a three-headed fire-breathing elephant chasing me."
"We all need to know how to fight if we get cornered." Sora points out, though she sounds far from enthusiastic about it. Indeed, it sounds more like she's repeating something she's been told on multiple occasions than something she's actually taken to heart. Apperantly she's never gotten cornered.
"Need to know how to fight if you get cornered," Tim agrees, "or if you need to help someone--like Heart or August." He offers over his canteen to Shelby. "We can practice running now. You two can see if you can catch me." Smug assurance of the outcome is plain on his face and in his voice.
Shelby rolls her eyes companionably at Sora and tilts back the canteen, wipes her mouth after and purses her lips at Tim. "Only if you promise not to use any of your gifts or rites or things. You've already got more experience than both of us put together. Besides, don't you know you have to give people positive experiences if you want them to learn? We covered it in Psychology. Positive reinforcement."
Sora smirks at Tim. "Only if you promise not to use your Strider gift." She chirps, shifting down into lupus as she speaks.
Tim clips the canteen back in place. "No Gifts. I can't promise anything about ritual effects--they linger, and it's hard to control what they do. But I don't know the feather one anyways." He smiles at the two cubs, a brass-halo smile if ever one was given. "Positive, meaning you win, or you learn?" And then he shifts, Rage pushing him straight into lupus, and springs forward under only the momentum of his long-limbed, desert wolf's body. Come, slow pokes! Catch-me!
Shelby cries, "Both! --Oh!" Already at a disadvantage she shoots Sora another grin and waves her on. "You go first, I'm crap at shifting!" It's at least a good three seconds, probably closer to five, before she's into lupus and chasing after the Strider, dashing through the trees and having - no matter how the afternoon ends - a whee of a time.