---------

Dillan grabs the cups, putting them back into the cupboard. "Huh? Ain't no-one asked me anywhere. Why, was I s'posed to be somewhere?" He bustles about the kitchen, quickly finishing placing everything back.

Timothy pages: We're in the kitchen, both of us.

Timothy tilts a head toward the back door of the farmhouse. "If you're not otherwise occupied, then it might interest you some to hear a story. Have you been taught of the Black Spiral Dancers yet?"

Derrick wanders into the living room and spies the little convention kitchenwards. "Hey folks."

"Black Spiral Dancers? Sounds like the De La Soul dance crew or something. Sure, story away." Dillan moves t a chair, sitting down. He offers a peace sign over in Derrick's direction in greeting.

Timothy picks up on Derrick's arrival, and in under five seconds already has something to occupy the cub with. "Storytime, Derrick," he says, stepping over toward the farmhouse's back door. "I thought we might like to get outside a little, before it rains again. Maybe take a walk."

Standing, the Shadow Lord cub stuffs his hands in his pockets. "Sure. S'pose a change of scenery's okay."

Derrick nods, always ready for a walk. "Surely."

-- Emigration to the Porch --

Cassandra is sitting on the porch swing, curled up beneath a leather jacket with a notebook and pen on her lap. She looks up, and smiles faintly with a respectful nod to Timothy.

Dillan comes out from the house, closing the screen door behind him.

Derrick blinks, and tenses up slightly at the newcomer. "Hello, ma'am?"

Dillan nudges Derrick, taking the lead. "Good intro, dude." He grins. "Dillan Reiger, Sleek Black, theurge cub of the house of the Shadow Lords, ward to Randall."

Cassandra grins at that, eyes dancing as she watches the pair. "Cassandra Mark-Of-Thorns, Black Fury Cliath born under the dark moon." Her dark eyes sharpen on Derrick. "I don't bite, I promise."

Derrick nudges back irritably. "I'm supposed to know everyone I meet is Garou? If you say so..." He bows slightly to Cassandra and says, "I'm Derrick Herr, Ragabash cub of the Silver Fangs. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Timothy stretches his arms out, and looks out over the wooded stretch to the south, deciding where it is exactly he feels like walking this evening. "Evening, Cassandra," he says. "You were the one with the rather interesting chiminage, yes?"

"At the farmhouse, yeah." Dillan replies to Derrick, moving to catch up with Timothy. "At least, s'what Randall told me. You're s'posed to greet everyone like they are, 'cause, like, they are."

Cassandra nods to Timothy, chuckling. "Blame Moon-Laughs-Quiet for that one. Was her idea." She shrugs a bit diffidently, chewing on her lip.

Derrick, relaxing slightly, says, "Ah. That explains a lot, that does. Ok."

Timothy frowns, though it's at Dillan's words, not Cassandra's. "Not everyone," he cautions. "The majority, yes, but not everyone. Neighbors have been known to drop by, on occasion."

Dillan shrugs. "Randall told me everyone. Talk to him." The cub leaves it at that.

Derrick hms. "I just tend to let other folks introduce themselves first."

Timothy turns his head to consider Dillan for a brief moment, and nods. "A proper response, there. And I will bring the matter up with him." As odd as it may be, it seems Dillan's done something right again, with his response. "Anyway," he says, speaking now to Cassandra, "I thought I'd take a walk, and tell the cubs here a story. It's an old one that you've heard before."

Cassandra grins, tossing her notebook to the porch floor and stretching luxuriantly. She nods to Timothy. "If you want me along, I'd be more than willing, but whatever suits you."

Timothy shakes his head. "I don't wish to disturb your work," he says, as he gestures to the notebook, "I simply wished to extend the invitation, in case you were interested. I'll be telling the original story of the Black Spiral Dancers."

Cassandra shudders at the name, but smirks faintly. "My work involves staring at a blank page and figuring out what I want to write. I'd rather walk, maybe that way I won't freeze to death." As if to make her point, she shivers convulsively even as she stands and glances at the cubs. "If you son't mind someone else tagging along.."

Timothy heads down the porch stairs, in several quick steps. "No one minds," he answers for the group.

Derrick answers for himself, "The more the merrier."

--- A bit into the woods ---

Timothy leads a path across the fields, and into the forests that lie to the south beyond. It's a pace that's not too slow and not too hurried, just the pace for taking a short walk through the woods after dinner. He's ten or fifteen minutes from the farmhouse before he begins to slow, and speak. "So, Derrick, what have others taught you of the Black Spiral Dancers?" he asks, in a tone that's neutral only through effort. It's obvious he and Cassandra both share a common opinion of this group.

Derrick looks down as he thinks, and then shakes his head. "No, I don't believe anyone's mentioned them."

Timothy begins, "Then let me tell you a story." The Silver Fang slows to a stop, and then crouches down in a post where the dirt lies loose underfoot. He begins not with words, but by sketching out a glyph, one Derrick at least hasn't seen before. It starts with a simple spiral, but as it grows out it becomes more intricate, with a bit of a manic and unorderly quality to it. It's hard to make out the details in the dirt drawing from a standing position.

Derrick kneels down next to Timothy, looking at the glyph intently. His hand goes automatically to his backpack trap, but then falls off it.

Cassandra hangs back to let the two cubs get a better view, but can't repress another shudder as she peers over at the glyph. She starts chewing on her lip, thoughtfully, and crouches down to listen.

Timothy shakes his head slightly at the motion on the cub's part, and a sweep of the hand obliterates all traces of the glyph. "Once, a long time ago, the Roman empire was busily expanding its boundaries, north into England. The forward march ended at a point in Caledonia -- modern-day Scotland -- where the armies were unable to advance against the defense of the Picts." If either cubs are familiar with history, this beginning may sound familiar.

Derrick, who is, cocks his head towards Timothy.

Timothy continues, in familiar territory still but branching outwards. "There was an area of fortification known as Hardian's Wall, and it was here that the fighting seemed to reach a stalemate. The Roman armies would push at the boundaries, but the Pictish for years held the advance. No doubt this is a familiar story so far," he continues, acknowledging Derrick's look. "Now, what you have not heard is the truth behind the forces as they fought. The Picts were aided by the Garou and their kinfolk, primarily Fianna and Get of Fenris, while the Empire to the south was increasingly under the influence of the Wyrm."

Dillan whistles, listening. Looks like this is all new to him. He crouches down on the opposite side of Timothy from Derrick, listening to the tale.

Derrick, who has been learning quickly that history is full of such things, doesn't even blink. He does ask, though, "All the Romans? Or just the ones near the Wall?"

Timothy says, quieter now that he firmly has both cubs' attention, "And then, suddenly, things grew quiet. A full moon passed in which little blood was shed. It was not all the Roman's who were influenced, not at first, because the Wyrm can be subtle even in its madness. There were fomori who counted themselves as allies to the Roman Empires, and in this silence they snuck behind the Pictish lines, onto the moors of Scotland, where they awakened places where the Wyrm's power was strongest."

Dillan scratches his head. "'For more' what?" he asks, unfamiliar with the term Fomori.

Derrick, who'd just opened his mouth to ask the same question, gets out a "Fo?" before Dillan beats him to the punch. He grins at Dillan, and goes to sit over by a tree.

Timothy answers with another drawing, a spiral encompassed on three sides by the outline of a box. "Fomori. Those who have been twisted and bent in service of the Wyrm. Many were once human. From these ancient strongholds were released banes, who attacked both directly and indirectly. The battle ensued once again, though it was not the same battle. Now, the Wyrm had found its foothold. With the help of these and others the Picts became tainted, in mind and in body, with the Wyrm's poisons."

Dillan lifts a hand to his head, scratching behind an ear. "'k, wait, so like, the whole Roman Empire, was, like, all wyrmy? Wasn't it like, all over europe? How come the garou didn't stop it long before then?"

Cassandra, though she has clearly heard the story before, starts tapping one foot. She watches Timothy, waiting for his response.

Timothy sweeps this second glyph clear, and stands again. "But the Garou did not stand by while these atrocities were commited. One tribe among them, the White Howlers, sought not only victory but revenge." He holds a hand to Dillan, though he's already arrived at the answer to the question the young Shadow Lord is asking. Part of the question, at least. "The White Howlers sought to eliminate the source of the problem, and they traveled up into the very strongholds of the Wyrm."

Derrick, who hasn't heard of the Howlers, starts looking as if he's figured out where this is going and doesn't like the answer.

Timothy says "One pack went to raid the strongest of these, a pit that led deep into the bowels of the earth. Of those who went in, only one returned to tell the tale. The pack was a large and powerful one, and though several died as they fought their way down to the lowest levels, they still numbered near a dozen when they reached it. There they found a well of inky blackness with a taint so palpable that even those without the gift to detect such things were repulsed to be in its presence."

Timothy says "Tentacles reached from the blackness, and though the Garou fought, though they had slain many creatures to reach this level, they were not strong enough. One by one they were dragged into this blackness, and when they emerged again they were... changed."

Dillan lifts a brow. "Freaky. Sounds like a Clive Barker flick... " He sits down, one leg pulled up to his chest. "Changed how? Like, into evil guys?"

Timothy draws a careful breath before continuing. "These creatures were twisted, deformed, their minds shattered, their thoughts lost. All but one, who managed to escape not by fighting, but by running. And these Garou, those who were once his packmates and now were not, announced that they were no longer White Howlers, but Black Spiral Dancers."

Cassandra nods mutely to Dillan's question, from behind the cubs.

Timothy says "You find the name 'White Howler' unfamiliar, I know. There are no Garou today who lay claim to that tribe. For the Black Spiral Dancers had determined that none of their tribe should remain alive, not unless they too became twisted to the Wyrm's end. And so they killed. Any White Howlers who would not give over themselves willingly -- and some did, is the greatest of shame -- were killed."

Dillan says "Now, wait up. Why would they give themselves up willingly. Bein' garou an' all, they're s'posed to be fightin the wyrm, right? Luke never went to the dark side, so I don't see why any garou woulda just 'cause some evil thing turned what used to be their packmates into a bunch of fucked-up niggas. Like, that don't make sense. Me, I'd be pretty fucking pissed off."

You say "Yeah but Luke was tempted. And his dad DID, after all. Go over to the Dark Side, I mean."

Dillan looks over at Derrick. "Well, 'xactly. These were only packmates, not even relatives. Well, maybe they were, but ever if, I'd be even more pissed off. You took my cousin and fucked him up. Prepare to die."

Cassandra lets out a deep breath as the story seems to conclude itself, then snaps a lookat Dillan. "Dillan, a lot of us feel that our packmates are our family. The only family we'll ever have. You had it right the first time."

Timothy nods slightly, to Derrick's words. "Despite what some people may claim, the Wyrm is not stupid. There are ways to seduce those, whose wills are already weak." He seems fairly uncomfortable at the last sentence, and continues, "The Black Spiral Dancers are still out there. You will encounter them."

Dillan leans back, tilting his head back and looking at the Fury standing a ways behind him. "Well, okay. So the wyrm just fucked with my family. I'd be more pissed than ready to give up."

Derrick takes the logical next step. "And we'll have folks knocking on our doors and trying to make us into Zombie Garou. So to speak."

Cassandra nods to Dillan, but looks at Timothy.

From afar, to Dillan, Cassandra, Orion, and Derrick, Timothy starts counting the number of Silver Fangs that have turned to the Wyrm, and decides that's not really a good idea. :)

Cassandra nods to Dillan, but looks at Timothy. "Anyone ever tell you one showed his Wyrm-blighted face in the middle of Harbor Park not too long ago and worked over a friend of mine and his girfriend pretty good?"

Orion makes his nearly-silent way down the vague trail that leads toward the farmhouse and yard, most of his attention focused on the fall of his footsteps. He hears voices, though, and slows, watching the trees around him.

Orion: This boy appears to be in his mid teens, of average height and unremarkable build, though new muscle has begun to fill him out somewhat. His skin is the color of creamed coffee and his large, tilted eyes are shining amber-gold. High cheekbones, a long, thin nose and a small, pointed chin define his narrow, fine-boned face, too angular to truly be attractive. Arms and legs seem a tad too long for his frame and his hands and fingers, when they emerge from the folds of a handknit navy blue sweater or the pockets of threadbare blue jeans, are eerily slender and elongated -- his dirty bare feet, the same. He is bald, too, without a bit of hair on his head, eyebrows, or the backs of hands and forearms. A knife is belted at his waist, the sheathed blade easily over eight inches long, and around his neck hangs a tatty leather necklace fashioned with tiny rodent skulls and bones.

Timothy says, to Dillan, "They did fight. Most rose up with the same rage with which you speak, but they were outnumbered, outpowered. They lost," he says, flatly. Leaving the cubs to mull over this rather grim story, he turns to Cassandra. "Sepdet had made mention of one, who had been spotted in the city. She said that the Bone Gnawers had taken it upon themselves to deal with him."

Dillan blinks. "Harbor Park. Like, in St. Clair?"

Cassandra nods, crossing her arms. "I thought maybe. Just so long as someone's doin'something about it." She nods to Dillan.

Dillan responds to Timothy a second later. "Better to go down fighting than turn to the dark side, right? So why did some of 'em join the wyrm? It don't make no sense." Heblinks again. "So, like, we're still in Washington?" It obviously hasn't occured to the inner-city-wannabe that he's anywhere near St. Clair.

Orion catches sight of his tribemate, and begins to call to her but falls still when he sees the Silver Fang elder. Crouching down beside a tangle of heavy dead branches, he contents himself with watching and listening from a distance, clear of Timothy.

Timothy answers Dillan with a small shrug. "No one can know for sure," he says, his tone taking a slight edge. This is not, it would seem, a topic he enjoys dwelling on, even if the lessons is needed. "It may be that they were tricked, deceived, otherwise tempted away. The majority fought until the tribe was destroyed."

Timothy pages to Dillan, Cassandra, Orion, and Derrick: ...and if you're bad cubs, the BSDs will sneak in at night and carry you off.

From afar, to Timothy, Cassandra, Orion, and Derrick, Dillan laughs. Yes mom.

Timothy brushes his hands off. "And I think, then, that we should be heading back now." As he turns, his gaze crosses the very deadwood that Orion is hidden behind, but he makes no indication that he has seen the Fury cub.

"Tricked?" Dillan blinks. "Ding-dong! Avon calling! Hi, yes, we've got some stuff for you to try, if you'd just like to step into this PIT OF EVIL!"

Dillan shakes his head. "Nah, don't think so."

Derrick snorts. "I kinda bet it's a tad more subtle than that."

Cassandra shoots a glance over to the brush for a moment, then back to Dillan. "Um, kid, the place I was talkin' about is a half-hour by car or a hour and fifteen minutes on foot."

Timothy snaps at Dillan, "Enough."

Dillan shrugs. "Well, probably. But it's like tricking someone into stepping in fromt of a mack truck. A moving Mack truck." He stands up at Timothy's suggestion to return, turning to talk to Cassandra. "Oh. I-." He's said enough, apparantly.

Orion flinches as Timothy's iron gaze slides over his hiding spot, a naked branch rattling quickly. The sound is light enough that it most likely seems caused by the wind, but the boy freezes in place anyway.

Cassandra shakes her head at Dillan, chewing on her lip. The branch draws her attention before she can say anything, though, and she walks over to the bushes, peering down into them.

Timothy keeps a level glance on Dillan for a few weighty moments. "You've discovered the secret to not speaking. I suggest you take that option now."

"I never ev-" The Shadow Lord bites his tongue and exercises the option Timothy's offered.

Orion rises as Cassandra draws near, his spidery hands immediately moving toward the edge of his sweater to pick nervously at a loose thread. "Good evening, Cassandra-rhya," he says, sniffling and taking care to not look over toward Timothy.

Timothy, at just that hint of a response from the Shadow Lord cub, takes a step in the boy's direction. One hand draws back, as if to strike out, but it holds in place and soon falls to the man's side at this lapse into silence.

Timothy pages: Yup, this would indeed be a bit of a sore spot. Thom Crowley was a Fang who walked the Spiral about a year ago, and then killed the Silver Fang elder and Alpha of the caern. And then there was Kilcaid, an ex-SF BSD summarily executed last month.

On seeing who is hiding in the bushes, Cassandra drops her eyes into the palm of one hand and shakes her head in disbelief. "Get out of there, Orion. Mother's love, most of us don't bite."

Dillan cringes anyways.

Timothy says, simply, "Story's over. Derrick, if you're not with Cassandra here, I expect you back at the farmhouse." He turns, only now catching sight of Orion; in spite of Cassandra's words of encouragement, the Silver Fang elder looks angry enough over something to quite possibly bite.

Orion mumbles something about running, but steps around the brush as told, frowning a bit and keeping his gaze hovering near the ground. He does flick his attention upwards a few times to take account of the others, but that is all. Timothy's anger is nothing new to him, and his posture is suitably submissive.

Timothy passes Orion without too much incident, though he does direct a stern glare at the boy as he passes and says, "Mind your tongue around Derrick."

Derrick stands up, and nods to Timothy. "If you don't mind, sir, I'd like to stay with Cassandra for a time. The farmhouse gets somewhat claustrophobic at times."

Orion nods, quick and obedient, and says, "Yes, of course, Timothy-rhya."

Timothy glances over his shoulder, and says curtly "With her or at the farmhouse, either's fine." And then he leaves, not in the direction that the farmhouse lies, but more toward the caern.

Timothy disappears down a barely descernible path into the forest.

Anne appears from around the side of the house.

Cassandra sighs as she looks up at Timothy, then back at Orion, frowning. "Orion, we'll talk about this later." She glances at Derrick, and the frown fades. "I guess that settles that."

Anne comes wandering down the path casually, from the farmhouse direction.

Derrick relaxes somewhat visibly as Timothy leaves. "Hi, Orion. I'm Derrick, but then again, that's obvious, I guess. Good to meet you."

Orion ducks his head once more to Cassandra and shuffles backwards a bit, out of attention. "I-It is good to meet you, too, Derrick," he says, shooting a wary look down the path that Timothy disappeared down. "Y-You are one of Timothy-rhya's charges, yes?"

Dillan whews. "What's got -his-" obviously Timothy, "shorts in a bundle?" He dusts his pants off, looking over at Cassandra, hoping for some enlightenment.

Anne wanders up to the group, and asks, "His who?"

Derrick wanders over closer to Orion, but doesn't push his comfort zone. "That I am. New found cub and all that. It's all sort of weird, you know?"

Cassandra looks at the three cubs surrounding her, eyes dancing merrily at some thought of her own. About to look around, she arches an eyebrow at Dillan. "Evening, Anne-rhya. Lot of elders wanna be about their business and don't wanna dwell on a topic." She shivers convulsively. "specially not on a topic like that. The Lost Ones aren't a joke, and they're bad news all over."

You say "Good evening, Anne-rhya. I think Dillan's talking about Timothy."

Sterling follows a bit behind Anne, slower by her avoiding what most Lupus simply push through, and finally comes into view of the rest.

Orion opens his mouth to answer, then spies Anne. "Oh, good evening, Anne-rhya," he says, quick and dutiful, abandoning any potential conversation with Derrick.

Anne drops down casually. "Well, oh. No, Orion," she says to the Fury cub, "go on."

Derrick looks over at the newcomer wolf. "Hello, Brittany."

Cassandra looks around her, and grins even wider. "Now I see why Timothy-rhya wanted me along." She snickers to herself, shaking her head with a glance at Anne. "Don't think I've met your companion," she comments, looking over at the wolf.

Sterling pauses, shaking a paw that came dangerously close to a spot of mud, and returns the greeting. That done, she leaps the puddle, finally drawing near Anne, whom she gives a wide berth and deep respect.

Dillan turns, facing all the newcomers (blah phonecall irl, sorry for the idle). "Who? Timothy. Totally flipped on me... and, as usual, for no reason." He Shadow Lord cub shrugs, and grins at Orion's approach from the underbrush, "Yo, Urkle."

Orion stammers and fumbles over his own tongue for a moment, then turns back to Derrick. "I-I am an ahroun cub of the Black Furies, Derrick. Metis," he says flatly. "I am also called Usher of the Blackest Day." He doesn't make the connection between himself and Dillan's joke, so does not ackowledge the Lord.

Derrick says, "Heya. I'm Derrick Herr, Ragabash Silver Fang cub, under Timothy's teaching." He thinks about Orion's introduction for a minute, and says, "Is the metis bit why Timothy's so down on you? And what're you Ushering in?" Derrick evidently hasn't been indoctrinated correctly, as he doesn't change his conversational stance any when Orion says "Metis".

Cassandra, who does very much get the joke, doesn't seem amused. She glances at Orion, to see his reaction, then shrugs and settles for cocking a finger at Dillan. "Leave pickingg on him to me, all right?" She grins, though something in her tone says she's not joking.

Anne gives Cassandra an approving grin, and eventually wanders away again.

Anne disappears down a barely descernible path into the forest.

Dillan grumps quietly. "'k. Fine." He falls silent, wary of another elder losing their patience with him.

Orion grows obviously uncomfortable at Derrick's further questions, scuffing his feet in the dirt and pursing his lips before responding. "Yes, Timothy-rhya cares little enough for me because of what I am," he says evenly to the Fang cub, like no-one else is around. "Most others do, too, and that is my lot. And some have told me I bring ill-fate to those I meet, so I carry a name that fits."

Cassandra watches Dillan, then shakes her head. "Damn, they've got you trained, don't they?" She shrugs. "I ain't gonna hurt you, kid, but I ain't gonna let you mess with my family, either."

Brittany takes her human form, to better respond to Cassandra. "I am the Princess of the Virginia Protectorate, Brittanny Jefferson of the Virginia Jeffersons, firstborn child of the King, Beacon-of-Light, Cliath Keeper of the Way of the First Tribe, former Elder of my tribe, here at my Sept, the Wheel Renewed. And you are?"

Cassandra turns at Brittany's introduction, looks the woman up and down, then grins wolfishly. "Cassandra Mark-Of-Thorns, Black Fury Cliath dark-moon. Just joined the Wheel Renewed and must have been smoking something illegal at the time. Good to meet you." She offers a hand.

Brittany sets her hand lightly in Cassandra's, saying, "I see you have met my charge, Frederick Herr?"

Derrick notes the discomfort and bites a fingernail, wondering if he should continue. he evidently finds fingernails conducive to decision making, as he shrugs slightly and plows on. "I don't get that. I mean, folks blamin' you for stuff your parents did. But, uh, actually, I guess that neither that or that jinx stuff is kinda something you don't want to talk about incessantly. Got a subject change around? We could talk about the weather?"

Cassandra nods, shooting a glance over at the cubs. "Good kid. So,what brings one such as yourself all the way out here?" She drawls the words only the faintest bit.

Dillan stays quiet, shrugging. He moves over to Derrick, joining the other cub, leaving the elders to their conversation. He stuffs his hands into his pockets, letting Derrick do all the talking.

[Orion disconnects, hence the sudden cessation of that conversational front.]

Brittany says "Twofold, actually. First and foremost, I came to see if my Talens were ready at the Caern and if they knew when I might have use for them. Secondly, I came to check on the status of my young ward."

Cassandra hides a grin at this, but glances down the path. "Timothy-rhya left me with him for the time being, instead of goin' back to the farmhouse. I'll still be heere when you get back, if you want to go on..." she trails off, questioningly.

Brittany nods. "Very well. Frederick? Do behave for Miss Cassandra? I am certain she will pass along if you do not."

Dillan snickers a bit, although he tries not to let it show.

Cassandra's eyes dance with only barely suppressed laughter, but she hides it by glancing over at Dillan and Derrick. "Sound good to you guys?"

Derrick nods, and says, "Ok," not trusting himself to say anything more for fear of breaking down laughing. He turns and looks at a tree intently. "Oak," he announces after a moment of calming himself.

Cristoph stalks in, hands in his pockets, his head down.

Brittany disappears down a barely descernible path into the forest.

Cassandra collapses into gales of helpless laughter, folding to the ground, unable tol hold it anymore once Brittany is out of earshot. It is several minutes before she can speak.

@doing Being a Good Cub. Honest. Really.

Cristoph glances up at the sounds, and stalks towards them.

Dillan follows suit, since apparantly he's not gonna get in shit for laughing at the departed Fang elder.

Derrick, who'd almost had himself under control, loses it too. Eventually, he manages to gasp out, "Bad Derrick! No Derrick biscuit!"

Cassandra finally manages to gasp out, from one knee, "Derrick...both of you...there goes the world's best example of what -not- to do..."

Dillan turns to Derrick, extending a hand. "Please, Derrick, -do- be a good pup." He falls into another fit of laughter.

Derrick *stares* at Dillan, and laughs so hard he can't stay standing up. "Arf!" is all he can manage for a moment.

Cristoph comes to study the howling trio, his expression unamused.

Cassandra struggles to bring herself under control, but Dillan's crack sends her into another giggle fit. it is another several moments before she recoversd from this one.

Dillan gasps! "Derrick? Did you pee on the carpet? Bad boy. Just wait until I get ahold of a rolled up newspaper." He tsks and places his hands on his hips, tapping a foot.

Derrick giggles once more, and says, "Heya" to Christoph.

Derrick blinks at Dillan. "Roof!" he says, and gives in to temptation.

Cassandra manages to get herself under control this time, and stands up fully,, still giving way to the odd fit of giggles. She looks around, and catches sight of Cristoph. Her grin immediately fades a notch. "Hi."

You shift into Lupus form.

Cristoph waves to Cassandra, and tips a nod to Derrick, neither friendly nor not. He also nods to Dillan.

Derrick ambles over and grabs the end of Dillan's pantsleg. He tugs at it.

Dillan hmms, looking around, ignoring Derrick as best he can. "Damn, and me without a leash..."

You paged Dillan with 'Holy guacamole, Lassie's kid was named Timmy, wasn't he?'.

Cassandra, still laughing, walks over to Cristoph, and without taking her eyes from the ccubs leans over to whisper to him.

Dillan blinks, looking down at Derrick. "What's that, boy? Timmy's in the well?"

Cassandra grins as she straightens, and watches the cubs as well, folding her arms across her chest.

Derrick tugs some more, and whuffs encouragingly.

"We should round up a search posse?" Dillan asks Derrick, "Timothy's in trouble?"

Cassandra chuckles at that. "No, Dillan, he just likes your pants."

Dillan looks at his pants, the pants he hates so very much. "Shit. He can have them. Maybe Randall'll buy me something nice this time 'round." He scritches Derrick behind the ears then shoves him away. "Now get offa my leg before I punt you."

Derrick switches briefly to the other leg.

Cassandra holds up both hands in surrender at that, shaking her head. "Randall? I ain't tangling with him, even if he does act like he keeps his Klaive shoved up his ass when he's not using it."

Cassandra winks, then adds, "Keep that to yourselves, all of you."

Derrick finally gets off of Dillan's clothing.

You shift into Homid form.

You say "Y'know, I never thought I'd be playing the role of Lassie."

Dillan blinks. "Whoa. I ain't gonna say -nothing- like that to him." He smiles broadly, adding, "Howver, I am gonna laugh my ass off at it while he ain't around."

Cristoph shakes his head. He hasn't smiled, but seems somewhat less grim.

"Neither am I, Dillan. Not even a dark-moon can get away saying shit like that to someone's face, and I'm not stupid enough to try." Cassandra grins, then turns the expression on Cristoph. "What's eatin' you, Cris?" Her lighthearted voice is somewhat tinged with concern.

Cristoph shrugs. He shakes his head.

Cassandra eyes her tribemate for a moment longer, then shakes her head. "We'll talk later, 'k?" She directs her attention to the two cubs. "This may sound stupid, but with all the supernatural and spiritual shit you've been taught over the past few weeks, has anyone bothered to teach you basic woods skills?"

"Basic what?" Dillan doesn't sound happy to hear this. "Like, Scouts 'n stuff? Boooring. Why bother when you can take a jeep." He shoves his hands in his pockets, thinking. "Hm. Randall and me went hunting a couple of times. S'about it."

Derrick grins a bit. "I already know the basics, actually. And rather more than the basics. Hunting, I'm not too good at, but I'm getting better. Bein' a wolf, well, there's advatages."

Hope-Star bolts out of the forest with the speed of a bird, as if perhaps a crow were trying to skim the ground. She slows, however, as she comes in sight of human habitation, nosing her way among the group. With a brief lingering glance at Cristoph, she wanders over towards the front porch.

Cassandra nods. "Dillan, you can't take a jeep to the caern, you'll piss off the spirits. I meant like for example fire-building." She jumps as a wolf boltsout of nowhere from the forest, then relaxes as it slows down. "I guarantee you someone's gonna want you to build a fire here when you least expect it."

Now that Derrick's calm, he notes to Cassandra, "By the way. Brittany's got her quirks, but she *is* my teacher, and I *do* respect her. She's got a pretty compact teaching style, and she's rather good at it. Anyway, yeah, fires. I can do them."

Hope-Star scratches on the front door like a dog trying to be let in, which is, in fact, what she looks like: some weird greyhound mixture.

Derrick doesn't seem to expect a response from his mini-defense.

Cassandra grins at Derrick. "Smart of you. I avoid Fangs whenever possible, for reasons best not gone into."

At this, Cassandra shoots a significant glance at Cristoph.

Dillan shrugs. "Gimmie a zippo and some wood, and I can light a fire. Can't be that hard." He nods at Cassandra's reasoning. "Right, spirits. Forgot 'bout that."

Cristoph frowns, silently. He meets Cassie's glance for a moment, and then looks away.

Derrick says, "Oh, I could take a few guesses. Poles and rear ends probably have osmething to do with it. I'm... stuck as what I am, y'know? I'm just trying' to stay *who* I am, too, though."

Cassandra shakes her head at Derrick, all humor gone. "Don't worry about it, 'k?" Her flat tone says drop it, and her stance says it's more personal than that.

Hope-Star quirks an ear at the earnest discussion taking place out in the fresh air, but doesn't intrude. When the door opens, she bounds through, keeping to her guise of "dog" with almost comical accuracy.

Hope-Star slides open the glass door of the farmhouse, taking the two steps up to enter it.

Derrick, who knows perfectly well he doesn't know every story in the Naked Woods, nods. "Ok."

Cassandra's grin returns, and her stance relaxes a bit. "Cool. I like you, Derrick. I just hope you can keep your head screwed on right."

Dillan bounces, "Ooo! Can I screw it back on if the worst happens?" He waves a hand like a kindergartener who needs to use the bathroom facilities in a dire manner.

Cassandra grins at this, and glances at Cristoph. "Dunno. Can you?"

Cristoph returns his hands to his jacket pockets. He is studying the house quietly.

Derrick says, perfectly seriously, "Dillan, if my head ever gets unscrewed, you have first dibs at screwing it back on."

Dillan nods, completely as seriously. "Bitchin'."

Derrick says, "Man. I've been completely ignoring school cuzza all this, not that I had a choice. Wonder how the swim team's doing..." He trails off. "Anyway, Cassandra, *I* sure hope I can keep my head on straight. It was nice to meet you, and I'll see you 'round...?"

Cassandra nods to Derrick, grinning sympathetically. "I just turned nineteen and I'm still workin' my way through school. Most Garou drop it altogether, for a lot of reasons. I'm hopin' I won't have to."

By the look on Derrick's face, it's clear he hadn't thought about this aspect of things. "Yeah. Weird as it may seem, I think I hope I won't have to. For one thing, it'll help me keep things in balance. Me, my morals, Fanglyness..." He stops. "Anyway, you don't want to hear me meander."

-- Net lossage. Drew, Tommie, Rholeen, Sepdet, Jeremaiah, Nikolai, and Hank all troop in while I struggle with the net.ghods. --

Sepdet hoves close by the battered-looking cub, eying the others farther out in the yard warily. "I'm sorry. Look. I know this is a lot to take in. But...here." She looks questioningly at Rholeen. "We're not all just tooth and claw. If you can stand to put up with a bit more strangeness, I can make your hand stop hurting. I'm not in the habit of twisting the arms of new friends, you know."

Derrick, who sort of dropped out of the conversation for a bit, blinks as various folks troop outside.

Drew continues his mock-sweet tone, "But I'd be saaaaafe. I'm almost touched."

Rholeen slaps her forehead slightly, and nudges Sepdet. "How about we take him to someplace less busy?" She then waves pleasantly to the huge mess o' people.

Jeremaiah falls silent as well, crunching away on something. Held within the sunburned fingers of his left hand is a small blue box, bearing the words 'Crystalized Rock Candy'. Shaking his head, a slightly rueful half smile pulls at his lips, and he glances from the crowd to the Dillan, and shrugs a shoulder.

Tommie sighs tiredly. "Yes." She is still watching Drew carefully, not taking her eyes off the angry philodox.

Nikolai looks to Sepdet and says "Its ok."

Nikolai tucks his sore hand into his jacket.

Sepdet suddenly breaks with her gentle stone and turns towards Drew. "Half-moon. Sparring in the barn, not here. If you can't take care of your cub right now, fine, but let _us_ do so in peace."

Hank snorts at Drew. "Touched in the head, maybe? You got it bad, t'night."

Dillan whistles. "Never knew I was so famous. Nice to see y'all..." He grins slightly, viewing the growing crowd.

Nikolai watches quietly with an emotionless look.

Drew inclines his head at Sepdet. "On the way there", even as he continues across the barnyard.

Derrick keeps to the background, watching quietly.

Sepdet turns back to Nikolai, shoulders slumping. "Aiya," she swears. "Here, come on, Nikolai. I don't bite. Ask Rholeen; my tribe kidnapped her, after all."

Jeremaiah cups his chin in one hand, resting back against the side of the barn, watching.

-- mass Gnawer/Gaian exodus, to go fight over Nik in the Barn -- Dillan hrms. He scratches his head, turning to look at Derrick, "What is it with people biting today?"

Nikolai takes Sepdet's hand with his other hand while looking down at the ground somewhat.

As the half of the people that Derrick doesn't know leaves, he gets a bit less tense. "Hey. I never bit you. I just tugged a little bit."

Jeremaiah continues crunching away on the crystalized sugar, watching the mass exodus down the lane. Turning his mirrored gaze to the others here, he simply watches, silently.

Sepdet smiles thinly, flattening her free hand over the one he's offered her without actually touching or confining. She half-closes her eyes. "This should feel comfortable. If it doesn't, just pull your hand away," she says reassuringly, beforer beginning to hum a soothing child's tune under her breath.

Rholeen pats Nik lightly on the shoulder, and then turn to look at the others standing in the yard.

Sepdet relinquishes Nikolai's hand after several moments, smiling up at him winningly. "That a little better, mebbe?"

Watching Sepdet and Nikolai, Dillan shrugs. "Well, yeah, but still. Cass mentioned biting to Urkle, too." He rubs his chin, pondering, and turns to look at Jeremiah

From afar, to Dillan, Jeremaiah, Nikolai, Derrick, and Rholeen, Sepdet turns on her Charm Person spell. No wait, this isn't D&D...

Nikolai pulls out his hand that was sore and looks at it a moment then looks back up to Sepdet and says "Thanks"

Nikolai returns his gaze back towards the ground.

Dillan hmms and shakes his head, stuffs ihs hands into his pockets. "Hey there, Sepdet. What's up?" He finally speaks directly to one of the arrivals.

Derrick notes Rholeen's glance toward him, and says, "Hey, hi."

Rholeen gestures almost unnoticably to Sepdet.

Sepdet gives his shoulder a squeeze. "Hang in there. Listen to th'other cubs; they know what you're going through." She turns away then, grins at Dillan wryly. "Um. I'm supposed to be fetching Drew to help Robert-rhya check out a newcomer, but it looks like I'm looking after a cub that isn't my tribe. Again."

Jeremaiah folds the box closed and slips it into a pants pocket. Sliding the hat from where it hangs about his neck, he pulls the brim down low over his eyes, tilting his head forward very slightly.

Sepdet winks back at Rholeen.

Derrick, taking this as license to ask, says, "Yeah, I thought there was a reference to him bein' new. You just get dragged into all this?" The last is directed to Niklai.

Rholeen chuckles at Sepdet, "Drew didn't seem in the best of moods tonight."

Dillan ahs. "More cubs. Cool."

Nikolai sits down on the ground quietly.

Sepdet smiles at Dillan lopsidedly. "Good attitude," she says softly. "When you're an elder, keep it."

Derrick agrees with Dillan. "The more the merrier."

Dillan hrms? "Whatcha mean? I didn't think I was doin' anything..."

Rholeen looks down at Nik, and sighs softly. "I know, I know. You probably need some time to think this all out, huh?"

Jeremaiah cracks a faint smile beneath the hat. Pushing off the wall, he slings his backpack over his shoulder. "Hrm. Always a good thing. Welcome to the war."

Nikolai shakes his head.
Nikolai says "I have a feeling most of the thinking is being done for me."

Sepdet takes a few steps away from Nikolai, giving him more room. She passes Rholeen a grateful glance.

Derrick, with calm disregard to whether Nikolai actually wants to hear him talk, says to noone in particular, "I sure needed some time to figure out what the heck was going on. People don't give you any space to think around here, y'know?"

Rholeen nods seriously, "I can understand that. It'll probably seem that way for awhile, I'm afriad."

Jeremaiah glances up slowly, halfway across the barnyard "Well, yeah, kid...but remember, these folks kinda went through all this already. Like I said, this is war...y'can think, just don't take too long about it, eh?"

You say "And I just got dragged out of my house somethin' like a week ago."

Nikolai shrugs

Rholeen blinks, and looks startled. "Gah! I forgot all about what started all this. Your bike. What shape is it in?"

Nikolai says "Its a twisted mass of metal. I wouldn't bother."

Jeremaiah shakes his head slightly. The smile pulls at his lips again, before he turns and glances over his shoulder. Touching his fingertips to his hatbrim, he nods to those assembled "I've got some work to do...I suppose I'll see you all later."

"Hey..." the Shadow Lord has that 'about to ask a question' look on, "Speaking of going through being cub and all, when exactly d'you think I'm gonna get some decent clothes? I'm getting sick of these things."

Rholeen frowns and shakes her head. "That's a shame. I don't think I can do much about that."

Derrick waves to Jeremaiah. "Hey, wait, did I ever get your name?"

Jeremaiah smirks and tilts his head "Jeremaiah. Now, Calls-Alone, once Cracks-the-Sky-lurf. Sure we'll meet again, eh?"

Nikolai looks up a bit at Sepdet and says "How so you know what tribe someone is?"

Sepdet looks down at her own haphazard attire, at Dillan's suggestion. "Aiya, we feed, teach, and train you. What need have you for suits?" she teases, then adds more seriously, "I'll ask Megan to pick up some, next grocery running."

You say "Derrick Herr. Don't have any other names yet. And I'm sure we will. Or anyway, I hope so."

Jeremaiah chuckles and nods, turning and offering a two-fingered wave "Oh, you will...they come and go..." he adds, a little more quietly, or perahps it is just that he is a little out of earshot "...like the wind."

Dillan waves his hands. "Nonono. I donh't want anyone to shop -for- me. Last time that happened," he vogues, showing off his attire, "Randall got me this." It isn't said with pride.

Derrick takes the opportunity to wander closer to the knot of Striders-plus-Coggie. He calls out, "Hey, stay at a farm, have clothes to match."

Dillan bleahs. "I'd rather not..

Sepdet says wryly, "Then good grief, Dillan, why are you asking _me_ about clothes?" She turns a pirhouette, and then faces Nikolai, bending to rest her hands on her knees. "I don't know. I thought you must be Drew's, the way he was acting so possessive. Perhaps you will be lucky, and be a Strider."

Nikolai says "Whats a Strider?"

Rholeen shakes her head at Sepdet and Nik, "Friad not. Drew's sorta laid claim to him, and says Nik's a Child of Gaia."

Dillan sighs. "I was asking in general. Like, when do I get my own clothes? I don't own a damn thing. I can't even get a job to get things. I'd kill to sneak back into my house back home and raid my closet."

Sepdet smiles at Nikolai. "Rholeen and I are SIlent Striders."

Nikolai says "Thats cool I guess. Don't know what a Silent Stider is tho."

"I suspect," says Derrick, plopping onto the steps, "that asking Sepdet and Rholeen, two Striders kinda unconnected to all this, Nikolai, a cub, and me, another cub, are not going to get you the answers you need. I could like, lend you a t-shirt or two, but I dun think my pants'd fit you."

Dillan uhngs. "I wasn't asking -them- to get me anything. They were talking abotu going through being cubs. I figure just mayeb they'd know when they let you have your own shit. And 'sides, Jeremiah was here when I first thought bout it."

Rholeen shrugs lightly, "It's one of the tribes. There are thirteen of em, and which one you belong to is usually caused by who your family is. It's in the blood."

Nikolai says "Oh."

Sepdet nods thankfully at Derrick. "Basically, when your tribe deems you responsible enough to return to human society without giving away what you now know--to protect them, as much as to protect us--then you can learn to juggle life as human _and_ Garou. But you've got to master Garou, before you're ready for that dance. And it's up to your elders to judge when you're ready."

Nikolai says "Elders?"

Derrick grins at Dillan. "Still, *they* wouldn't know," he says, meaning Sepdet and Rholeen. "People've said to me a billion times that different tribes treat their cubs different. So, y'know, they wouldn't know when Randall'd decide to," he swallows his first choice of words, "get some better stuff for you."

Sepdet nods patiently. "Your elders are those who have been Garou for a long time, who have earned respect by wisdom and deed. You will find that confusing, too. Someone may be an elder Garou, who is a child in human eyes. Or the reverse." She smiles lopsidedly.

Derrick adds succintly, "The folks in charge."

Sepdet jabs a thumb at Derrick. "What he said."

Dillan shrugs. "I dunno. I was hoping maybe they -might-. Jeeze. IT's not a terribly difficult request, either. I just want some new digs."

Nikolai says "Do all the tribes turn into monsters like that?"

Rholeen chuckles and nods at the discussion. "Took forever for me to get some shoes out here. Luckily it was late summer."

Derrick shrugs back. "Me, I want to at least tell my folks what's going on. Haven't been able to yet. Kinda driving me batty."

Dillan fidgets noticibly. "Like, I can't stand these goddamned things they got me wearing. Bleh!"

You say "Um. Monsters?"

Sepdet straightens again, baring her teeth at Dillan. "Dillan, I know it is difficult to believe, but your elders have a few things to worry about besides the fashion of your clothes. Remember what I looked like, two nights ago? Randall was far worse. And that was only _one_ small thing, among many."

Nikolai nods to Derrick.

Rholeen looks down at Nik and nods. "All of em shift into different shapes. Wolfish ones. Like Drew did in the house, and how Sepdet was a wolf."

Dillan sighs. "I ain't asking for them to FedEx me Ice-T's underwear. I figure someone's gotta go into town at some point or another, so why can't someone snag me something?"

You say "Oh, y'mean turn into a werewolf. Or just into a wolf. Yeah. They all do. I think it's kinna cool."

Nikolai says "A wolf maybe.....but not like the monster I saw."

Rholeen jerks a thumb over at the barn, "You mean what Drew turned into?"

Nikolai nods and says "I don't want that to happen to me."

Rholeen coughs slightly, and seems at a loss. "Well, um..."

Sepdet puffs her cheeks in a faint sigh. "That's why we've dragged you out here, Nikolai. It _will_ happen to you, like it or not. So we've got to teach you how to use it, and not let it get the better of you. As you saw ,that's not always easy, even for those _used_ to such things."

Derrick tackles this slowly. "Well, y'know, it's not that anyone's a *monster*, perse. They're just part wolf and part human, and a whole lot stronger and faster than they used to be. First time I saw one, yeah, it was scary, but I dunno, now that I can turn into one (occasionally), I'm less worried." He's ignored Dillan's last comment, to see if that'll make him stop.

Nikolai shakes his head and puts his head in his hands facing downwards.

Derrick looks at Nikolai earnestly. "It'll be really fuggin' hard for awhile. But it's who you are."

Nikolai says "No......its....not."

Dillan shakes his head and wanders off, ignored and misunderstood.

Dillan slides open the glass door of the farmhouse, taking the two steps up to enter it.

Rholeen looks at Sepdet and Derrick, and shrugs. "The bad part is that he's never changed. I changed my first night, so I couldn't fool myself into thinking I wasn't garou. God knows I -wanted- to think it was all a mistake."

Sepdet sits down and stares at Nikolai. "Look at me. Look at my eyes, and tell me that to my face," she says softly. "Would I be standing out here, talking to you this way, if I hadn't seen this a hundred times? Would I _want_ to scare a human boy, who looks not much younger than my own brother, just...I don't know, for fun? Could this many different people be making this up, all as an elaborate, horrible joke? I could scare you badly enough, Nikolai, to make you change. I don't want to. You've been given the gift of time, to get used to the idea, before it actually happens."

Brian enters the clearing off a barely noticable path.

You say "I hadn't changed yet, or I don't think I had anyway, but I kept having these dreams... These dreams of wolves and near wolves."

Nikolai looks up a bit.

Hands thrust into his jeans pockets, Brian walks free of the treeline at its closest point to the barnyard; as he does so, and as the sounds of voices reach him, he throws a vaguely irritable look up at the still-nearly-full moon.

Nikolai says "I admit I've had dreams like that too."

You say "Yeah? And have you been feeling kinda... I dunno, *alone*, even in a crowd?"

Nikolai says "I'm just saying if its true that I'm not a monster. I'm not."

Rholeen blinks, and looks surprised. "I had those too, way back when..."

Sepdet is kneeling before a battered-looking new human, with that intent passionate expression she gets when she's trying very, very hard to reach someone. She's watching Nikolai now, waiting for the others' words to touch him.

Derrick's plopped on the steps to the house, looking all earnest.

Sepdet adds fiercely, "And you're not a monster. That's human's talk. You're Garou. Which is only a monster, if you don't learn how to master what that word means."

Derrick nods at what Sepdet said. "You're you, still. With your own personality and beliefs. You've just added something else onto who you are."

Nikolai sighs

Derrick, with slight embarrassment, says "I've had to think about this a lot the past week, y'know?"

Rholeen nods to Sepdet's words, "It's true. To be honest there -are- monsters out there. That's what the garou are for, to protect the world and the people from the monsters. You think Drew looked scary, you should see them." She says this last with a tinge of humor in her voice.

With a look of vague resignation, Brian walks closer to the group in the barnyard. Perhaps noticeably, he doesn't take his hands from his pockets, as if not trusting where they may end up. "Evening," he says quietly, his voice a smooth tenor with a distinct Irish lilt.

Sepdet jumps at the voice, then shakes herself and rises to her feet, turning slightly with chin tilted up towards the latest arrival. "Rhya," she says with a tight smile, not quite meeting his eyes.

Nikolai nods somewhat to Brian as he continues to look down towards the ground with head in his hands.

Derrick scrambles up to his feet. "Hello, sir. I don't believe we've met, officially."

Nikolai stays seated on the ground not trying to look at anyone.

Sepdet opens and shuts her mouth, as if thinking better of some possibly smartassed comment. She sighs and scuffs a bare toe in the dirt.

Rholeen blinks up as she sees the Alpha's approach, and finds her words disappear. She seems to be waiting to see what he wants.

Brian lifts his chin in a greeting directed to both Sepdet and Rholeen, though he reserves the scrutiny of his eyes for Derrick, and, moreso, Nikolai. "Mmm, yes," he answers the former. "You were probably confused out of your mind, and I was covered with blood and blue paint. Brian O'Flannery." He proffers a hand to Derrick. "And you're Derrick... whose last name I'm sure I didn't get. Of the Silver Fangs, yes?"

Sepdet mutters, sotto voice, "He's th'boss."

Rholeen takes her cap off while Brian speaks, looking unsure at the exact manner she should be using at this time.

Brian seems half-ready to toss out a cranky retort to Sepdet's words, but bites back whatever the comment was and simply rolls his eyes slightly. The tension which plays quickly across his features is almost definitely derived from the moon.

Derrick smiles slightly. "Confused, no. People'd explained it some. Scared out of my wits, though, yes. Public speaking is not my strong suit." Derrick takes Brian's hand, saying, "I'm Derrick Herr, Ragabash cub of, yes, the Silver Fangs. Under Timothy's tutelage. Glad to meet you."

"Fianna, me," Brian tells Derrick, though it seems he speaks the words as much for the one cub's benefit as the other's. "And Alpha of the sept, and full moon. Which explains," he adds, as he indicates the moon with a glance, "why I'm this cranky. Forgive me. And who's our latest addition?" Now his scrutiny falls fully upon Nikolai; if he notices the cub's tattered appearance, he says nothing about it.

Nikolai pulls his hands away from his face and finally looks up to see Brian and begins to stand.

Nikolai looks a mixture of stressed out and confused.
Nikolai says "My names Nik."
Rholeen adds in a quiet and subdued voice, "Drew has claimed him for the Children of Gaia it seems."

Derrick, having let go Brian's hand, plops back down on the steps.

Sepdet nods wearily at Rholeen's statement, biting back yet another remark that doesn't look to have fit with the "impartial Strider" job description.

Brian proffers the same hand to Nikolai, adopting a lighthearted half-smile. "Didn't come along quietly, did you," he remarks. "Well, Nik. Welcome aboard, I guess."

Nikolai shakes Brian's hand with his small hand and says "Nice to meet you."
Nikolai tries to smile a bit but still seems mainly emotionless except for the stress and confusion.

Sepdet proffers a watery smile up at the man who looks like he could snap her like chicken bones with one hand tied behind his back. "Hey, um...Brian?" Her eyes dart to the moon and back, dropping well below his eye level.

As he withdraws his hand and Sepdet addresses him, Brian's attention goes back to the older of the two Striders. "Hmm?"

@doing Recycling last week into this one

Sepdet asks with affected casualness, "You seen Chloe lately?"

The flush that springs to Brian's fair cheeks is impressively dark. "Week before last I was with her for a couple of days," he admits, with the same sort of affected casualness. "Why?"

Rholeen starts a little at the name and the casualness with which it's mentions, and then finds a really interesting weed to study in the meanwhile.

Sepdet shakes her head. "You know me. I miss her for a few weeks, I start worrying she's got herself into trouble." She shrugs and gives a shy smile.

Derrick files that away for further pursuance.

Brian shakes his head emphatically. "No no," he says. "She looked... good, the last time I saw her." The flush is rather slow to leave his cheeks. "And I'm getting myself into trouble the more I talk about it, so how about I just shut up now." A Fianna, tongue-tied? Say it isn't so!

Nikolai sits back down to quietly watch the others.

Sepdet gives a short laugh and drops the subject with a gentle, "Understand, sir, very well." She shifts her feet, apparently still faintly troubled, but leaving it be for now.

Brian returns his hands to his pockets, and once again focuses his scrutiny on Nikolai; once he has something else to focus on, he seems much more fluent with thought and speech. "So, ah, you just came in tonight? Who brought you?"

Rholeen looks over at Nik, unwilling to answer Brian's question unless he can't.

Nikolai says "Drew, Hank, and Tommie, brought me here."

Brian wrinkles his nose slightly. "Bone Gnawers messing with the sept's young again," he grumbles, some of the familiar irritation creeping by degrees back into his expression. "I wish to hell Hazmat were back."

Sepdet looks up at that. "She is, Rhya," she says, her voice going a bit flat.
Sepdet says "And we don't actually know Nikolai's tribe, apparently."

Brian blinks once at the declaration, clearly quite taken aback. "When did she get in? And doesn't the kid have a Kinfetch?"

Nikolai listens quietly not sure what they are talking about.

Rholeen shakes her head, "I don't think he does. It was my impression that Drew had a gift which told him that Nik was garou."

Sepdet spreads her hands. "I just saw her, before I...had to run some errands." She looks suddenly very tired. "And who knows if he's got a kinfetch? Drew was too busy shifting and slavering in the farmhouse to answer any questions. I suspect they're finished, now...if you want to go to the barn and try to get sense out of them, good luck."