Feb. 5th, 2017 01:30 pm
[personal profile] kiananlogs
Sunday, 5 February, 2017
The moon is in the waxing Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (61% full).

It's snowing; big, thick, wet flakes that only occasionally seem to be sticking, but it's enough that the ground is starting to look rather white, and the trees moreso. Against this backdrop, the black and dirty-grey furred wolf stands out all the more, her particular identifying features— slightly too long ears, patagia, metal teeth and claws— not helping that in the slightest. She's making her way up from the small creek, still licking droplets from her whiskers and dripping water from her chin as she goes. Her movements are smooth and quiet, but there's no sign of deliberateness about it; apparently this is simply her natural inclination.

From the direction of the Greek House, there's an unfamiliar figure treading along the path. Yael is wearing her usual pants and boots, but seems to have acquired a jacket as well, a worn thing that is a little too short on her lithe frame but serving well enough. The woman has the jacket pulled close, unused to the cold or the snow, and her usually loose headscarf has been pinned more neatly and close. She walks with the demeanor of your typical hiker on an outing without a distinct destination, but doesn't balk at the sight of the wolf. Hands tucked into her pockets Yael pauses rather than continue along the path, a look of furrowed brow and concentration directed at the other for a moment before she offers a quiet, "Hello."

Ghost-in-the-Machine's ears flick up and forward at the sound of someone approaching, and she looks as though she's about to duck back down to the creek… but too late, she's been spotted. Instead, her ears flatten, her metal teeth glint, and there's a low rumble from somewhere deep in her chest. I sure hope you can understand this. Who are you?

Yael nods once to the first bit. "New around these parts," Yael answers first, with a hint of a smile on her face. "My name is Shai-Nefer. I am also called Yael Lender, and Gathers-Strength-to-the-Trials, half-moon and adren of the Silent Striders." The tone of her voice carries the distinct expectation of an introduction in return, and Yael's gaze glances over the metis' obvious features without much change in expression.

The challenge and tension visibly drains away from the strange wolf's demeanor, though the wariness stays, and her lips fall back over her unnatural teeth. Ghost-in-the-Machine, she replies. A Ragabash. Just Ghost when human. Her nostrils flare, clearly taking in the other's scent, but she makes no move to approach.

"Just Ghost?" Yael queries, brows furrowing a little bit. Her tone is not pushy, but it's not particularly gentle either, as she leans back against the nearest tree and pulls her jacket a little closer. The Strider smells clean, like someone who has recently bathed, the scent of the soap products mild, but underneath that there is still the lingering scent of dust and road dirt. And although she watches Ghost, her attention shifts somewhat to the trees of the forest around them and the unfamiliar sights, back and forth.

Ghost-in-the-Machine licks her whiskers one last time, and then— very deliberately— slides up through the forms until she hits homid. No more metal teeth or nails, or, at least, they don't look the part. Her dark eyes remain almost the same after a fashion; still suspicious, still wary. "Ghost," she confirms, as she swipes a sleeve across her mouth. She's not on all fours, but she's still crouched, with one hand bracing against the wet earth.

Yael watches, with a brief only seconds long furrow of brow somewhere in there and then nods. "Alright," she agrees, easily, although she can't quite suppress the shivering as well as she can control her expression. "Nice to meet you, Ghost." The easy grin is back, followed by a shift of her attention fully to the trees and the path. "I can't decide if this snow is better or worse than when it was raining." Her voice has a soft, lilting accent that marks her as from the Middle East and not a native English speaker. "It's wet."

"It's wet," Ghost agrees, though with a quirked eyebrow that suggests she finds the comment bizarre and obvious. For her part, she doesn't look particularly cold, but then, she's wearing at least three layers. Thin layers, but layers. "…Uh, good to meet you too." This last seems like an obvious afterthought.

Yael rolls her shoulders and leans back against the tree, and then asks, "Would you happen to know where I can typically find or get in touch with the Alpha?" The question comes after a long minute of silence and without any particular intensity to it.

Ghost's expression sours a little, as if she's just tasted something bitter, but the moment passes quickly. "Maybe the community house?" she suggests. "It's called Edgewood. His scent's been around there." She proceeds to give fairly comprehensible directions, although they're mostly cardinal directions and landmarks, rather than streets or addresses.

Yael listens and nods, tapping her fingers against her leg as the directions are listed, and looking in the direction indicated. "Thanks, I'll… get around to it, eventually," she responds. "Mostly figured I'd walk around some today, get the lay of the land."

Ghost eyes Yael for a moment before offering a shrug. "You could also try howling for him. In the meantime you probably shouldn't uh, shouldn't go too deep. I don't know how unpleasant they'll get if you get too close to the Caern, but I'd bet on 'very'."

Yael grins a little at the last bit, apparently entirely unfazed by the potential. "I spoke with a Guardian yesterday afternoon, already," she clarifies. "They know I'm here." She lifts her shoulders, this time in a definite shrug. "But thank you for the heads-up. I've dealt with unpleasant receptions before, I try to avoid it these days."

Ghost nods once at this bit of information. That, however, seems to be the end of her effort to keep the conversation going, because she simply falls silent, openly studying the other woman.

Yael deals with the silence for several minutes, though she pushes off from the tree and walks at the same slow pace she was originally going, down the path a few feet and to another tree to lean on. A corner of her gaze is kept on Ghost the entire time, and finally she turns her attention back to the other woman. "Yes?" she asks, prompting more than a question.

Ghost shrugs again. "Nothing," she says. "I think you're the first Silent Strider I've seen around here, though."

Yael nods, and sighs. "That tends to be the case most of the time," she points out. "Few of us stay put for long periods of time, and when we do it's usually back wherever home is."

"Could've been others," Ghost says, as she glances briefly back in the direction that Yael was coming from. "I just haven't met any here. If they're um, in and out, it's likely I wouldn't have."

"How long have you been here?" is the next question Yael settles on, though it's possible there were others that crossed her mind first.

Ghost grimaces. "…A few years now," she says, as though it is something she's not fond of admitting. "In the uh, area, that is."

Yael tilts her head to one side for a moment, and her eyes raise a bit at the grimace. "Can't be all bad, if you've stuck around?" There's no judgement in the words, though. "And what's with the metal?" The Strider doesn't make any attempt at smoothing the transition between one question and the question of the elephant, or rather metis, in the room.

"I'm not saying it's bad," Ghost says, although she sounds defensive. "I just… it's complicated. I'm not really a Sept member. More of a, ah, Sept tolerated." The question elicits a twitch, but nothing worse. "It's a fetish," she says, without elaboration.

There's a slight further furrowing of brow at the explanation offered, but although there's curiosity left, the Strider doesn't push. Instead, Yael nods, with the overall attention to the other's words of a good listener. "Do you want to be a member though, or…?" She settles down to a seated position against the tree she's been leaning on, and with no less transition between the two questions then before, asks, "Would you like some jerky?" This as the adren brings a plastic bag with the mentioned jerky out of the coat pocket.

"It's complicated," Ghost says. "Like everything." The offer, however, gets a shake of the head. "No, but thanks."

Yael nods, pulling out a few pieces of the jerky and shoving the bag and her free hand back into her pocket. "Yeah, life's kind of like that anyway," Yael agrees.

Ghost makes a noise, a soft 'hmph', then finally pushes up to her feet. "Don't let me keep you from, err, wandering."

Yael nods once and watches, though for now she seems like she'll sit at the base of the tree. "Gaia watch, 'just' Ghost," she says, with a brief wry smile.

Ghost turns on her heel and starts away, shoving her hands in her pockets as she goes.
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Kianan Rowan Abrams

July 2017


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