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Three little indicubs
It is currently 14:44 Pacific Time on Tue May 4 2010.
Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (60% full).
Bawn: Eastern Forest
Gradually, the dense forest gives way to more mixed vegetation, as trees become less pervasive and undergrowth takes over. Spotty clearings filled with short scrub and bushes dominate the forest floor, with only a few game trails to make paths through the tangled growth. The forest that is here seems to loom, as if resenting handing over land to lesser plants. Small rustlings come from the bushes and patches of high grass. Who knows what is concealed here?
To the north, the sounds of the interstate are audible in the distance, while to the east, the ground begins to rise into tumbled piles of rocks and shallow gullies.
Obvious exits:
Burial Mounds Bone Arches Into the Caern Southern Bawn Northern Bawn Central Bawn Eastern Mountains
Rain drips from the leaves and collects in puddles, rivulets skating down each tree in search of a larger self. Through the wet pads a sodden Shelby, down a game trail pushed wide by generations of deer. Every fifty to hundred yards or so she stops to shake, but what little benefit she gains from this attempt at dryness is swiftly lost. A single crow calls in the distance - very little is out today.
Kerr huddles inside a new (old) flannel jacket, soaked herself. The tacky sweats she's acquired (also old) show signs of the damp weather as well, the coloration darkened with the wet. Her bare feet squish when they press into the earth, water and muck alike oozing up and around toes, but the discomfort is ignored. Actually, most things it seems would be ignored with the lost cub watching the ground in thought rather than where she's going.
The Fang girl pauses beneath a fir to shake off first one foot, then the other, even though she's just going to collect more mud as soon as she's taken a step. Looking up she spots Kerr, and though she watches the other cub for a few seconds, she does eventually call out. "When I agreed to come to Washington, I thought I'd be inside and out of the rain."
Kerr looks toward the sound, her steps coming to an eventual stop once she sees the owner. "I know, right?" She gives her jacket a bit of a shake at the shoulders before squelching her way toward the Fang cub. "So, why're you outside anyway?"
Shelby continues her lean against the tree - not that there's much she can do to make herself more presentable. "Well, I can't really go back to the house, not until the new one's safe. There's not much in the way of roofs around here, anyway." A glance around proves her point. "I've been in lupus so much I decided I'd spend the day in homid, but this is really miserable. What about you?"
"I found a house nearby," Kerr offers with a shrug. "But chances are you'd get in trouble. I would've, but being new has its advantages. Some house just off the woods, saw Kate there with the Russian Black Fury and the elder of the Get of Fenris. S'where I was before."
"Yeah," Shelby agrees, resigned, and brushes ineffectually at one sleeve. "Zosia's keeping pretty close tabs on who I... well, not who I spend -time- with, but who's allowed to teach me." She looks up at Kerr, then, with a sympathetic smile. "Who are those two? The Russian Fury and the Fenris elder? I haven't met either of them, I don't think."
"I don't know the Fury's name. Not sure I ever heard it or if she rattled it off with something else in Russian. The Get of Fenris elder is Viv.. something? I think she's from Australia or New Zealand, by her accent." [Kerr]
"Oh?" The Fang's attention sharpens, just a touch. "Think you might join one of those tribes?
Kerr shakes her head. "Already decided I'm not joining the Furies. I don't really think I fit in there, and.." She glances around, to see if anyone's nearby before leaning in and speaking a little lower. "Don't trust that Russian one. Woke up, day after my change, and she was next to my bed mixing poisons." She leans back, glancing around again. "Might consider the Get, though."
Kerr glances around and Shelby does too, leans in to catch the scoop. "...Ew! Yeah, no, I can... ew. Was she really?" She shivers again, deliciously horrified (or maybe wetly horrified), and studies the other with new eyes. "Why them? Who else have you met? --Sorry if I'm being nosy," she adds ruefully. "There's no way I'd ever be given the chance to choose. It's interesting."
"Viv seemed cool with me," Kerr replies with a shrug. "Like.. someone I could get along with. And I met a couple others who're in her tribe. Michael, he's another cub, and Javen who's.. not a cub."
"Cliath?" guesses Shelby. "You know the ranks, right?" is asked uncertainly. "There's a lot of information to learn, and you haven't had much time to learn it yet. You've only been here... a few days?"
Kerr nods. "Maybe a week? Best guess, anyway. Might've been Cliath, though, not really sure about how the ranks are."
It's Shelby's turn to glance around for eavesdroppers; like Kerr, she leans in and drops her voice. "I can teach you that, I think. The basics, anyway. It's not like I'd get them wrong." A moue of lips and she goes on, "We had classes in this when I was growing up. Or if you want to learn from one of the adults, that's all right too."
Kerr grins slightly, shoulders shrugging. "I get cubs are the lowest," she says quietly, glancing around and trying to not look at all suspicious. "Not really sure about the rest. I think August said something about being Foster? Or.. something that sounded like that."
"Fostern," Shelby replies promptly. She holds up one hand, fingers spread, and wiggles each in turn. "OK, cub is what we both are. The lowest, like you said. Everybody outranks us." Poor cub, has no finger. "After that it's Cliath, Fostern, Adren, Athro, and Elder." Thumb-wiggle.
"Yeah, Fostern." Kerr nods. "So, Cliath to Elder. S'a lot."
Shelby nods back with a wry twist to her lips. "I'll say. Five auspices, five ranks, thirteen tribes - and that's just the beginning! You have to know the Litany, and how to move about in the Umbra, and, well, lots of things." She pauses again. "Have you shifted on your own, yet?"
Kerr nods quickly. "Yeah, August er.. helped ..with that." She grins slightly, shifting her shoulders. "And Kaz went over the Litany with me. I remember some of it."
"Well, you'll have to know all of it before you can even think about becoming Cliath," Shelby tells her. "At least you're not a philodox," she pauses to make sure her memory is good, "or you'd have to know that backwards and forwards. I got a head start, but I still have a lot to learn." The crow calls again, and Shelby looks toward the sound.
Kerr laughs nervously. "Yeah, well I got a long way to go before then, right? I mean, I just got here.." She glances toward the sound a beat after Shelby does, then looks back to the older cub.
A soft murmurring voice can be heard approaching from the south, spiking occasionally in volume. After a few moments as the voice gets closer, it can be descerned to be a male's voice. About this moment, the voice is silent as a dark brown haired boy approaches from around a briar patch. Michael recognizes Kerr and gives her a bright smile. "Afternoon, Kerr-yuf!" He approaches his fellow cubs at a leisurely walk and seems to be carrying a small, pocket-sized, red notebook. He stops to give the newest cub about eight feet of breathing room.
"You've got a few months," Shelby agrees. As Michael's voice is heard her smile disappears and she straightens from her casual lean, attention focused on the newcomer. "Who are you?" she asks politely, the soft vowels of the eastern seaboard in her voice.
Michael
This wiry teenage boy around 5'11" and 150 pounds carries himself with a cheerfully confident demeanor. He's lean, with well defined leg muscles that suggest that he does a lot of running or plays soccer. The rest of him could use some hours at the gym. Michael is graced with dark brown hair that he keeps in a slightly longer version of a Marine's high and tight. His brown eyes are framed with dark eye lashes that are slightly longer than most men, making him seem alluring. He always looks like he's eager to engage in conversation.
Kerr looks over as Michael appears, grinning broadly. "Hey, Michael. How's it going?" She makes a quick peek to Shelby then looks back to Michael with a small shrug.
The boy turns to give Shelby the same bright smile. "My name is Michael Joseph Schroeder. Also known as Grudge-Ender. Cub and story-moon of Fenrir! I don't believe we've met." He nods politely to Kerr as he puts the notebook in the back pocket of his jeans. He seems intent on meeting someone new at the moment. For a Get, he seems rather personable, even from his greeting.
The Fang glances over at Kerr, her smile briefly reappearing, before she returns her gaze to Michael. "Shelby Zaleski-Leveque, known as Doesn't Know When to Stop, ragabash cub of the Silver Fangs, and great-great-granddaughter of Valentin Leveque, Adren galliard and called Winter's Snow on Summer's Branches." Breeding she has in spades, and that certain something extra good bloodlines provide. "It's nice to meet you, Michael."
Kerr shakes her head slowly, grinning faintly. "You really do have a lineage, huh," she says to Shelby.
"Hell yeah, she does! An Adren galliard! I hope you have some really cool stories about him. I'd love to hear them!" The boy is clearly excited by the prospect, but he calms himself down. "It's a pleasure to meet you, as well, Shelby-yuf!" He glances at Kerr, still smiling. "Are you settling in well?"
"That's the short-long version," Shelby agrees, with a smug sideways grin for Kerr. "Valentin is just the first Garou in my immediate bloodline. I know everyone back eight generations, and the Garou at least four past that. All of us do." 'Us' being the Silver Fangs, presumably, and not present company. She waits a beat before teasing, "Well, Kerr? Are you settling in?"
Kerr shrugs. "I guess. Meeting some people and learning the ropes." She pauses, frowning slightly at Shelby then looking at Michael. "Hey, met your.. person in charge. Viv. Met her today."
Michael seems impressed. "Viv-rhya? Nice! How did that go? Viv-rhya has always been fair and friendly with Jacey and me. Though I've heard she can be a little cranky at times. I guess that's really a story for all of us." His eyes follow the scurrying of a squirrel as it ascends the trunk of a tall pine. "It sounds like you're doing well! I've been a bit busy too. I'm reciting a story I've been working on for months now. I'm committing it to memory now and hopefully I'll be ready to share it on the next gallirad moon!"
Shelby takes a half-step back, away from the others, and folds her arms across her middle again. "It's a galliard moon now," she points out. "Do you mean it won't be ready for another few weeks?"
"I think he meant the next one," Kerr offers by way of explanation. Then she shrugs and turns to the Get cub. "She treated me alright, once we settled the... the Lost cub thing."
Michael nods at Kerr. "Yeah, the next moon cycle. I'm hoping to get something together. Like a contest or something. But I still need to run the idea by Kaz-rhya. But if it doesn't work out, we can just have a good time of stories anyway." He listens intently to Kerr, letting his smile fade only slightly. "That's good to hear. I really don't think it's that big of a deal. You met Sora-yuf. She was a lost cub too, and she's on her way to Rite soon. What kind of stuff have you learned so far?"
"A contest?" Shelby echoes politely, but as Michael continues she goes quiet, lips pressing together. "How long have you been a cub, Michael?" she asks when the Galliard stops to breathe, her smile returned.
Kerr grins faintly, shoulders shrugging a little. "Not a whole lot. Probably won't get much 'til I find myself in a tribe. Kinda considering asking Viv, or maybe Tim. Leila said good things about being a Silent Strider."
Michael thinks for a moment. "Well, this is my second cycle since I Firsted...so about a month is my guess. I've been doing pretty well so far. Javen-rhya says if I keep up the progress it might not take me long to Rite. But I'm not in a huge rush. It'll happen when it happens." He turns to address Kerr. "Striders, huh? I actually haven't met one yet. So you actually know more about them than I do!" He lets out a hearty chuckle for a moment.
"My first change was the end of March," Shelby supplies. The older girl looks between the other two for a moment, then over at a recently-untenanted branch, still bouncing from the bird's departure. "Some days I think Zosia's not going to Rite me until September. --Does it ever not rain here?!" The complaint bursts out of her as she whirls, patting ineffectually at the back of her neck. Her track suit is sodden, so it's hard to tell if there's a new offender, or if this is just a chronic complaint.
Kerr looks to Shelby, a frown coming about at her sudden outburst. She takes a couple of steps backward, more squishing of wet ground on bare feet ensuing, casting a questioning look at Michael. "The hell's that all about?"
Michael flinches at Shelby's sudden outburst, but recomposes himself quickly. "You're not from around here originally, I take it?" Michael allows a small smile to creep back into his face, hoping to provide Shelby some calm.
Pouts Shelby, "I got rain down my neck." She casts an injured look up at the offending tree, but no branches either leap forward to blame their brethren or claim responsibility themselves. To the others, "No. Tidewater, Virginia, and the Sept of Sunlit Waters there. I'm really rethinking my plan to stay in homid today." The ragabash wipes at her neck, still frowning, then asks slightly disbelieving, "You haven't met Tim yet? Either of you?"
"I know Tim," Kerr states. "He showed up when I had my first change." She grins, somewhat embarrased but oddly amused at the same time. "I tried to shoot him just before I frenzied."
Michael thinks for a moment. "Tidewater, Viriginia...I think I've heard of that area. Isn't it near Williamsburg or Yorktown? Tons of history there I bet!" Michael laughs a little at Kerr. "Well, you actually got to know him better than me! I haven't met him myself."
"About two hours," Shelby says, with a been-there, done-that shrug. "We used to go on field trips. I don't think I've been there since, oh, I was fourteen or so." Ages ago. Kerr's news, however, sends her eyebrows politely skyward. "You did what?" she laughs. "You shot Tim with a gun?"
Kerr follows the line through Virginia, or tries to. It may be clear by looking at her that she's no knowledge of the state or anything in it. Then she shakes her head as she's questioned again. "No, I don't have a gun. Almost shot him with an arrow." She can't help but seem regretful, even while grinning about it. "Didn't mean to, just sort've happened when Charlene hit me with her hat."
Michael looks to Kerr more sympathetically. "An apology would probably be a good thing. But hopefully he'll understand. Oskar-yuf didn't seem to take offense when I frenzied on him during my Firsting, but he also had the pleasure of konking me on the head with an eighty pound weight. So it kinda evened out." The bright smile appears again on Michael's face. "I'm sure he'll understand what you were going through, Kerr."
Shelby probably shouldn't be giggling, which is why it comes out more as a barely-repressed snort, her hand over her mouth and nose to hide it further. "I would have loved to have seen that! He's teaching me to track, and the only time I get anywhere near to him is when he lets me. He says he's teaching me to think, but I think he gets his jollies laughing at other people." Her words may be harsh, but her tone is anything but: laughter still, with a touch of teenage know-it-all.
Kerr nods. "Did that already. I'm good." She shrugs, grinning then gives her coat another shake. She turns to Shelby, smiling still. "Well, you're a Ragabash, right? Use your tricks to get him."
Michael looks to Shelby. "Ragabash are certainly known for their tricks. But I bet it's hard to pull a fast-one on a Strider...no pun intended." Michael smiles weakly.
The Silver Fang spreads her hands. "I don't have any tricks, except what he shows me. Besides, he's Fostern. I bet anything I think up he'll have seen already." She shrugs at Michael: exactly. "At least I have a mental image to cheer me up, now! I can just imagine him, his eyes all bugged out, with an arrow through his leg!" Shelby demonstrates, all cartoon shock and horror, grabbing at the invisible wound, before falling back against the tree in giggles.
Kerr laughs right out at Shelby's antics, head shaking. She folds her arms over her chest, tugging her sodden coat tighter around her. "Yeah, actually I'm really glad I missed. Don't try and make shooting people a habit, it seems to happen around me."
Michael laughs at Shelby's antics, before turning to Kerr. "No, Kerr! Don't!" he yells in mock fear. Suddenly he leans forward suddenly, and clutches at an invisible arrow in his chest. "Kerr-yuf....why?" He asks in a raspy voice before he keels over, landing on his side. His hand still clutches the shaft of the invisible arrow as he lets out his 'last breath'.
No longer grabbing her leg, now Shelby plants a wrist on her forehead, wailing dramatically. "Oh, Kerr! If only she'd learned there were other ways of showing people you liked them, instead of shooting them!" She has an invisible shaft of her own in her chest, pinning her to the trunk.
Kerr shakes her head, mirth fading. "No, really. Funny but not really." A frown furrows her brow and she looks away from the two, taking in the rest of the surrounding trees.
Michael gets up and dusts himself off. "Oh, Kerr. We didn't mean anything by it. We're your friends! If we really thought you'd shoot at us, we wouldn't be having this much fun together." Michael works in a small smile as he works around Kerr to face her, face-to-face, while still keeping a respectful distance. "We trust you!"
Shelby sobers and straightens, considering the other girl with a cocked head. "Sorry?" She looks to Michael, then, and back at Kerr, rolls her eyes with a decided air of 'Boys!' Stepping forward, she offers her hands and a winsome smile to the lost cub. "Obviously that was a sore spot, and I apologize. If you ever want to talk about it, I'll listen."
Kerr shakes her head again, glancing toward the other two cubs. "Sorry, it's funny, but it's not. I'd rather not shoot people. Unless I need to."
Michael nods his head, his smile fading. "I understand. You speak like a true warrior. We're weapons for Gaia, but against the Wyrm only. I was really worried last week that I would have had to kill a bunch of kids my age who were lighting off fireworks at the edge of the Bawn and made a fire with kerocene. I really wouldn't have wanted that on my conscience." His smile is completely gone now as he seems deep in thought, staring into a bush off to the side.
After another long, thoughtful look at Kerr, and a shorter one at Michael, Shelby says, half-apologetically, "I think I'm going to head back to the compound. It's a long walk on two legs. I'll see you later, Kerr, and it was nice meeting you, Michael." She drops them both a nod before continuing down the deer path, quickly disappearing into the dense forest.
Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (60% full).
Bawn: Eastern Forest
Gradually, the dense forest gives way to more mixed vegetation, as trees become less pervasive and undergrowth takes over. Spotty clearings filled with short scrub and bushes dominate the forest floor, with only a few game trails to make paths through the tangled growth. The forest that is here seems to loom, as if resenting handing over land to lesser plants. Small rustlings come from the bushes and patches of high grass. Who knows what is concealed here?
To the north, the sounds of the interstate are audible in the distance, while to the east, the ground begins to rise into tumbled piles of rocks and shallow gullies.
Obvious exits:
Burial Mounds Bone Arches Into the Caern Southern Bawn Northern Bawn Central Bawn Eastern Mountains
Rain drips from the leaves and collects in puddles, rivulets skating down each tree in search of a larger self. Through the wet pads a sodden Shelby, down a game trail pushed wide by generations of deer. Every fifty to hundred yards or so she stops to shake, but what little benefit she gains from this attempt at dryness is swiftly lost. A single crow calls in the distance - very little is out today.
Kerr huddles inside a new (old) flannel jacket, soaked herself. The tacky sweats she's acquired (also old) show signs of the damp weather as well, the coloration darkened with the wet. Her bare feet squish when they press into the earth, water and muck alike oozing up and around toes, but the discomfort is ignored. Actually, most things it seems would be ignored with the lost cub watching the ground in thought rather than where she's going.
The Fang girl pauses beneath a fir to shake off first one foot, then the other, even though she's just going to collect more mud as soon as she's taken a step. Looking up she spots Kerr, and though she watches the other cub for a few seconds, she does eventually call out. "When I agreed to come to Washington, I thought I'd be inside and out of the rain."
Kerr looks toward the sound, her steps coming to an eventual stop once she sees the owner. "I know, right?" She gives her jacket a bit of a shake at the shoulders before squelching her way toward the Fang cub. "So, why're you outside anyway?"
Shelby continues her lean against the tree - not that there's much she can do to make herself more presentable. "Well, I can't really go back to the house, not until the new one's safe. There's not much in the way of roofs around here, anyway." A glance around proves her point. "I've been in lupus so much I decided I'd spend the day in homid, but this is really miserable. What about you?"
"I found a house nearby," Kerr offers with a shrug. "But chances are you'd get in trouble. I would've, but being new has its advantages. Some house just off the woods, saw Kate there with the Russian Black Fury and the elder of the Get of Fenris. S'where I was before."
"Yeah," Shelby agrees, resigned, and brushes ineffectually at one sleeve. "Zosia's keeping pretty close tabs on who I... well, not who I spend -time- with, but who's allowed to teach me." She looks up at Kerr, then, with a sympathetic smile. "Who are those two? The Russian Fury and the Fenris elder? I haven't met either of them, I don't think."
"I don't know the Fury's name. Not sure I ever heard it or if she rattled it off with something else in Russian. The Get of Fenris elder is Viv.. something? I think she's from Australia or New Zealand, by her accent." [Kerr]
"Oh?" The Fang's attention sharpens, just a touch. "Think you might join one of those tribes?
Kerr shakes her head. "Already decided I'm not joining the Furies. I don't really think I fit in there, and.." She glances around, to see if anyone's nearby before leaning in and speaking a little lower. "Don't trust that Russian one. Woke up, day after my change, and she was next to my bed mixing poisons." She leans back, glancing around again. "Might consider the Get, though."
Kerr glances around and Shelby does too, leans in to catch the scoop. "...Ew! Yeah, no, I can... ew. Was she really?" She shivers again, deliciously horrified (or maybe wetly horrified), and studies the other with new eyes. "Why them? Who else have you met? --Sorry if I'm being nosy," she adds ruefully. "There's no way I'd ever be given the chance to choose. It's interesting."
"Viv seemed cool with me," Kerr replies with a shrug. "Like.. someone I could get along with. And I met a couple others who're in her tribe. Michael, he's another cub, and Javen who's.. not a cub."
"Cliath?" guesses Shelby. "You know the ranks, right?" is asked uncertainly. "There's a lot of information to learn, and you haven't had much time to learn it yet. You've only been here... a few days?"
Kerr nods. "Maybe a week? Best guess, anyway. Might've been Cliath, though, not really sure about how the ranks are."
It's Shelby's turn to glance around for eavesdroppers; like Kerr, she leans in and drops her voice. "I can teach you that, I think. The basics, anyway. It's not like I'd get them wrong." A moue of lips and she goes on, "We had classes in this when I was growing up. Or if you want to learn from one of the adults, that's all right too."
Kerr grins slightly, shoulders shrugging. "I get cubs are the lowest," she says quietly, glancing around and trying to not look at all suspicious. "Not really sure about the rest. I think August said something about being Foster? Or.. something that sounded like that."
"Fostern," Shelby replies promptly. She holds up one hand, fingers spread, and wiggles each in turn. "OK, cub is what we both are. The lowest, like you said. Everybody outranks us." Poor cub, has no finger. "After that it's Cliath, Fostern, Adren, Athro, and Elder." Thumb-wiggle.
"Yeah, Fostern." Kerr nods. "So, Cliath to Elder. S'a lot."
Shelby nods back with a wry twist to her lips. "I'll say. Five auspices, five ranks, thirteen tribes - and that's just the beginning! You have to know the Litany, and how to move about in the Umbra, and, well, lots of things." She pauses again. "Have you shifted on your own, yet?"
Kerr nods quickly. "Yeah, August er.. helped ..with that." She grins slightly, shifting her shoulders. "And Kaz went over the Litany with me. I remember some of it."
"Well, you'll have to know all of it before you can even think about becoming Cliath," Shelby tells her. "At least you're not a philodox," she pauses to make sure her memory is good, "or you'd have to know that backwards and forwards. I got a head start, but I still have a lot to learn." The crow calls again, and Shelby looks toward the sound.
Kerr laughs nervously. "Yeah, well I got a long way to go before then, right? I mean, I just got here.." She glances toward the sound a beat after Shelby does, then looks back to the older cub.
A soft murmurring voice can be heard approaching from the south, spiking occasionally in volume. After a few moments as the voice gets closer, it can be descerned to be a male's voice. About this moment, the voice is silent as a dark brown haired boy approaches from around a briar patch. Michael recognizes Kerr and gives her a bright smile. "Afternoon, Kerr-yuf!" He approaches his fellow cubs at a leisurely walk and seems to be carrying a small, pocket-sized, red notebook. He stops to give the newest cub about eight feet of breathing room.
"You've got a few months," Shelby agrees. As Michael's voice is heard her smile disappears and she straightens from her casual lean, attention focused on the newcomer. "Who are you?" she asks politely, the soft vowels of the eastern seaboard in her voice.
Michael
This wiry teenage boy around 5'11" and 150 pounds carries himself with a cheerfully confident demeanor. He's lean, with well defined leg muscles that suggest that he does a lot of running or plays soccer. The rest of him could use some hours at the gym. Michael is graced with dark brown hair that he keeps in a slightly longer version of a Marine's high and tight. His brown eyes are framed with dark eye lashes that are slightly longer than most men, making him seem alluring. He always looks like he's eager to engage in conversation.
Kerr looks over as Michael appears, grinning broadly. "Hey, Michael. How's it going?" She makes a quick peek to Shelby then looks back to Michael with a small shrug.
The boy turns to give Shelby the same bright smile. "My name is Michael Joseph Schroeder. Also known as Grudge-Ender. Cub and story-moon of Fenrir! I don't believe we've met." He nods politely to Kerr as he puts the notebook in the back pocket of his jeans. He seems intent on meeting someone new at the moment. For a Get, he seems rather personable, even from his greeting.
The Fang glances over at Kerr, her smile briefly reappearing, before she returns her gaze to Michael. "Shelby Zaleski-Leveque, known as Doesn't Know When to Stop, ragabash cub of the Silver Fangs, and great-great-granddaughter of Valentin Leveque, Adren galliard and called Winter's Snow on Summer's Branches." Breeding she has in spades, and that certain something extra good bloodlines provide. "It's nice to meet you, Michael."
Kerr shakes her head slowly, grinning faintly. "You really do have a lineage, huh," she says to Shelby.
"Hell yeah, she does! An Adren galliard! I hope you have some really cool stories about him. I'd love to hear them!" The boy is clearly excited by the prospect, but he calms himself down. "It's a pleasure to meet you, as well, Shelby-yuf!" He glances at Kerr, still smiling. "Are you settling in well?"
"That's the short-long version," Shelby agrees, with a smug sideways grin for Kerr. "Valentin is just the first Garou in my immediate bloodline. I know everyone back eight generations, and the Garou at least four past that. All of us do." 'Us' being the Silver Fangs, presumably, and not present company. She waits a beat before teasing, "Well, Kerr? Are you settling in?"
Kerr shrugs. "I guess. Meeting some people and learning the ropes." She pauses, frowning slightly at Shelby then looking at Michael. "Hey, met your.. person in charge. Viv. Met her today."
Michael seems impressed. "Viv-rhya? Nice! How did that go? Viv-rhya has always been fair and friendly with Jacey and me. Though I've heard she can be a little cranky at times. I guess that's really a story for all of us." His eyes follow the scurrying of a squirrel as it ascends the trunk of a tall pine. "It sounds like you're doing well! I've been a bit busy too. I'm reciting a story I've been working on for months now. I'm committing it to memory now and hopefully I'll be ready to share it on the next gallirad moon!"
Shelby takes a half-step back, away from the others, and folds her arms across her middle again. "It's a galliard moon now," she points out. "Do you mean it won't be ready for another few weeks?"
"I think he meant the next one," Kerr offers by way of explanation. Then she shrugs and turns to the Get cub. "She treated me alright, once we settled the... the Lost cub thing."
Michael nods at Kerr. "Yeah, the next moon cycle. I'm hoping to get something together. Like a contest or something. But I still need to run the idea by Kaz-rhya. But if it doesn't work out, we can just have a good time of stories anyway." He listens intently to Kerr, letting his smile fade only slightly. "That's good to hear. I really don't think it's that big of a deal. You met Sora-yuf. She was a lost cub too, and she's on her way to Rite soon. What kind of stuff have you learned so far?"
"A contest?" Shelby echoes politely, but as Michael continues she goes quiet, lips pressing together. "How long have you been a cub, Michael?" she asks when the Galliard stops to breathe, her smile returned.
Kerr grins faintly, shoulders shrugging a little. "Not a whole lot. Probably won't get much 'til I find myself in a tribe. Kinda considering asking Viv, or maybe Tim. Leila said good things about being a Silent Strider."
Michael thinks for a moment. "Well, this is my second cycle since I Firsted...so about a month is my guess. I've been doing pretty well so far. Javen-rhya says if I keep up the progress it might not take me long to Rite. But I'm not in a huge rush. It'll happen when it happens." He turns to address Kerr. "Striders, huh? I actually haven't met one yet. So you actually know more about them than I do!" He lets out a hearty chuckle for a moment.
"My first change was the end of March," Shelby supplies. The older girl looks between the other two for a moment, then over at a recently-untenanted branch, still bouncing from the bird's departure. "Some days I think Zosia's not going to Rite me until September. --Does it ever not rain here?!" The complaint bursts out of her as she whirls, patting ineffectually at the back of her neck. Her track suit is sodden, so it's hard to tell if there's a new offender, or if this is just a chronic complaint.
Kerr looks to Shelby, a frown coming about at her sudden outburst. She takes a couple of steps backward, more squishing of wet ground on bare feet ensuing, casting a questioning look at Michael. "The hell's that all about?"
Michael flinches at Shelby's sudden outburst, but recomposes himself quickly. "You're not from around here originally, I take it?" Michael allows a small smile to creep back into his face, hoping to provide Shelby some calm.
Pouts Shelby, "I got rain down my neck." She casts an injured look up at the offending tree, but no branches either leap forward to blame their brethren or claim responsibility themselves. To the others, "No. Tidewater, Virginia, and the Sept of Sunlit Waters there. I'm really rethinking my plan to stay in homid today." The ragabash wipes at her neck, still frowning, then asks slightly disbelieving, "You haven't met Tim yet? Either of you?"
"I know Tim," Kerr states. "He showed up when I had my first change." She grins, somewhat embarrased but oddly amused at the same time. "I tried to shoot him just before I frenzied."
Michael thinks for a moment. "Tidewater, Viriginia...I think I've heard of that area. Isn't it near Williamsburg or Yorktown? Tons of history there I bet!" Michael laughs a little at Kerr. "Well, you actually got to know him better than me! I haven't met him myself."
"About two hours," Shelby says, with a been-there, done-that shrug. "We used to go on field trips. I don't think I've been there since, oh, I was fourteen or so." Ages ago. Kerr's news, however, sends her eyebrows politely skyward. "You did what?" she laughs. "You shot Tim with a gun?"
Kerr follows the line through Virginia, or tries to. It may be clear by looking at her that she's no knowledge of the state or anything in it. Then she shakes her head as she's questioned again. "No, I don't have a gun. Almost shot him with an arrow." She can't help but seem regretful, even while grinning about it. "Didn't mean to, just sort've happened when Charlene hit me with her hat."
Michael looks to Kerr more sympathetically. "An apology would probably be a good thing. But hopefully he'll understand. Oskar-yuf didn't seem to take offense when I frenzied on him during my Firsting, but he also had the pleasure of konking me on the head with an eighty pound weight. So it kinda evened out." The bright smile appears again on Michael's face. "I'm sure he'll understand what you were going through, Kerr."
Shelby probably shouldn't be giggling, which is why it comes out more as a barely-repressed snort, her hand over her mouth and nose to hide it further. "I would have loved to have seen that! He's teaching me to track, and the only time I get anywhere near to him is when he lets me. He says he's teaching me to think, but I think he gets his jollies laughing at other people." Her words may be harsh, but her tone is anything but: laughter still, with a touch of teenage know-it-all.
Kerr nods. "Did that already. I'm good." She shrugs, grinning then gives her coat another shake. She turns to Shelby, smiling still. "Well, you're a Ragabash, right? Use your tricks to get him."
Michael looks to Shelby. "Ragabash are certainly known for their tricks. But I bet it's hard to pull a fast-one on a Strider...no pun intended." Michael smiles weakly.
The Silver Fang spreads her hands. "I don't have any tricks, except what he shows me. Besides, he's Fostern. I bet anything I think up he'll have seen already." She shrugs at Michael: exactly. "At least I have a mental image to cheer me up, now! I can just imagine him, his eyes all bugged out, with an arrow through his leg!" Shelby demonstrates, all cartoon shock and horror, grabbing at the invisible wound, before falling back against the tree in giggles.
Kerr laughs right out at Shelby's antics, head shaking. She folds her arms over her chest, tugging her sodden coat tighter around her. "Yeah, actually I'm really glad I missed. Don't try and make shooting people a habit, it seems to happen around me."
Michael laughs at Shelby's antics, before turning to Kerr. "No, Kerr! Don't!" he yells in mock fear. Suddenly he leans forward suddenly, and clutches at an invisible arrow in his chest. "Kerr-yuf....why?" He asks in a raspy voice before he keels over, landing on his side. His hand still clutches the shaft of the invisible arrow as he lets out his 'last breath'.
No longer grabbing her leg, now Shelby plants a wrist on her forehead, wailing dramatically. "Oh, Kerr! If only she'd learned there were other ways of showing people you liked them, instead of shooting them!" She has an invisible shaft of her own in her chest, pinning her to the trunk.
Kerr shakes her head, mirth fading. "No, really. Funny but not really." A frown furrows her brow and she looks away from the two, taking in the rest of the surrounding trees.
Michael gets up and dusts himself off. "Oh, Kerr. We didn't mean anything by it. We're your friends! If we really thought you'd shoot at us, we wouldn't be having this much fun together." Michael works in a small smile as he works around Kerr to face her, face-to-face, while still keeping a respectful distance. "We trust you!"
Shelby sobers and straightens, considering the other girl with a cocked head. "Sorry?" She looks to Michael, then, and back at Kerr, rolls her eyes with a decided air of 'Boys!' Stepping forward, she offers her hands and a winsome smile to the lost cub. "Obviously that was a sore spot, and I apologize. If you ever want to talk about it, I'll listen."
Kerr shakes her head again, glancing toward the other two cubs. "Sorry, it's funny, but it's not. I'd rather not shoot people. Unless I need to."
Michael nods his head, his smile fading. "I understand. You speak like a true warrior. We're weapons for Gaia, but against the Wyrm only. I was really worried last week that I would have had to kill a bunch of kids my age who were lighting off fireworks at the edge of the Bawn and made a fire with kerocene. I really wouldn't have wanted that on my conscience." His smile is completely gone now as he seems deep in thought, staring into a bush off to the side.
After another long, thoughtful look at Kerr, and a shorter one at Michael, Shelby says, half-apologetically, "I think I'm going to head back to the compound. It's a long walk on two legs. I'll see you later, Kerr, and it was nice meeting you, Michael." She drops them both a nod before continuing down the deer path, quickly disappearing into the dense forest.