[personal profile] kiananlogs
Sunday, 5 February 2017
The moon is in the waxing Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (62% full).

There's a noise— not much noise, but enough to warn of someone walking in the direction— from the path into the forest, and from behind the trees, Yael emerges into the back yard, pulling the jacket she's wearing a little further around her shoulders and shaking off a light dusting of snow as she moves towards the house. There's no hurry to the walk, though; the Strider moves with an easy confidence.

Frederick is sitting on the ground, closer to the house, this time he is complete. In other words, with his backpack, which he is using as a backrest as he is busy wolfing down a fairly large sandwich. He does turn his head as he notices the movement on the road leading up to the house and eventually stands, but this doesn't interrupt his ingestion, he just reaches down to pick the backpack up and walks slowly over towards the road.

Yael lifts a hand in greeting to the younger philodox, and looks over her shoulder just in time to see the cougar. Whatever trace of a smile there had been vanishes, although it gets a rather suspicious nod of greeting and a long, studying look. When she's within earshot of Frederick, there's a nod of greeting, "Hey there," she asks him, "Is there more than one cougar around here, or just the thing I've heard about already?"

Brings-the-Pack exits the woods near the pond, pausing to look around the meadow before venturing elsewhere. The two garou present are noted, though he hesitates rather than simply inviting himself over.

Frederick smiles as he stuffs the last bit of his sandwich past his teeth, nodding a greeting as he swallow and casts a sidelong glance at the cougar. He watches the cat and shrugs slightly. "He's the resident oddball. Still don't know what to make of him, but if he's cool with the Alpha, he's cool with me." He puts his backpack down and turns towards the cat, raising his voice as he informs him: "You could at least come over and introduce yourself!"

Yael mutters under her breath, "And by oddball, you mean mage, and by mage you mean…" it trails off into Arabic that sounds less pleasant than her tone in English, and she shrugs her shoulders. "I have to say, I come from places with lots of diversity but this is a little new for me."

Brings-the-Pack cocks an ear towards the invitation, once one is verbalized, and makes an effortless leap over the small stream that separates him from the house, perhaps indicating that running water does not stop cougar-mages. He pads over towards the two garou, gaze largely lingering on the unfamiliar woman, though the Get is given a nod of greeting. "Someone new?" the large cat inquires with feline-sounding English as he draws closer so there is no need to speak loudly. He does, notably, keep about twenty feet between himself and the other garou.

Frederick chuckles slightly at the remark from the Strider, the Get nodding and trying not to grin too obviously as he replies "Yeah, let's say there's a few things that are… different 'round here. Like this." He pauses. "Back home… but let's not go there." He looks over to the cat. He watches him for a moment, eventually asking "Afraid of us or do we smell?"

Yael pulls a piece of jerky from her pocket and chews on it while she listens to the Get's response, and nods. Aside from a brief wrinkle of her brows, however, her expression returns to a carefully schooled and professional neutral, and she responds, at a more conversational volume, straightening her shoulders and a measured, even tone of voice as she continues. "That's one way to put it." The introduction follows, a more formal tone and phrasing even than that she used to introduce herself originally to Frederick, "My name is Shai-Nefer. I am Gathers-Strength-to-the-Trials and adren half-moon of the Silent Striders, of the Wheel of P'tah and Qal'at al-Subeiba, member of the Ahadi."

Brings-the-Pack regards Frederick and responds, not coming any closer, "A little distance, perhaps, helps me to feel more comfortable around the garou, and, perhaps, helps some garou to feel more comfortable around me. No offense was meant." His gaze shifts appraisingly to the Strider, head cocking ever so slightly. "Adren? Excellent. And a Silent Strider? I do not believe I have met a member of your tribe yet. Formally, at least. I am unfamiliar with much the other things you said, unfortunately. Are you passing through, or considering adding your strength to the sept's in defense of the caern?" He belatedly adds, "I go by Brings-the-Pack. Warper. Master of Forces. Ally of the sept."

Frederick nods slightly as he puts his backpack back down, eventually sitting down himself. "Warper… that's a good one. Anyway, like I said, Alpha considers him cool so I ain't questioning that." He casts a sidelong glance over to the cat.

Yael gives the cliath a brief nod, and her attention turns back to the cougar, with a simple nod of acknowledgement. "I had a job that brought me here," she says, "and the rest will be whatever it will be." There's a pause, and then she asks, "So, warper, I have a question for you." It's still that same professional tone of voice that follows. "Have you asked the Pumonca what they think that you use a seeming of one of their kind?"

"Were there one around, I would ask," the cougar-mage replies to the Strider's question as he settles back onto his haunches, long tail wrapping around his side. "Though, locally, I have only seen a total of three Khan and one Qualmi. I believe only one or two Khan still remain in the area. It has been some time since I last visited them."

Frederick can't hide his grin anymore, instead he busies himself with rummaging through his backpack for a long moment, nodding to the cat's statement "And this is another thing you'll have to get used to." He flips his backpack closed. "Khans. Talk 'bout volatile furpiles." He smirks at Yael. "But we may still shred leeches, some things are normal even 'round these areas."

"I think I'm more okay with the Khan," Yael says, although the comment is of the volume to be directed at Frederick rather than Brings-the-Pack, shaking her head somewhat. "Well, alright then," she says more generally. "And what do the Bastet that you have encountered think of you using the seeming of one of the Pumonca, in any case? I am curious."

Brings-the-Pack seems to have placed at least some thought into his actions. "I am fairly open in disclosing to other shifters that, though I may have the physical form of a cougar, I am not a Pumonca. So far, none of the Bastet I have encountered have taken offense— perhaps because of this openness and my not attempting to pass myself off as one of their kind." He adds, "I would very much like to meet a Pumonca in the future, though. The mountain lion is a truly beautiful beast, and I would enjoy learning more about them— much as I enjoyed learning about wolves from some of the garou."

Frederick seems to be quite amused by the exchange, the young Get sitting there and watching the exchange between the Mage and the Strider. He folds his arms in front of his chest, nodding quietly to himself before noting "Pumonca… never met one. Ok, didn't meet too many Bastet, they weren't quite welcome back home." He shrugs as he leans against his backpack. "But then again, what's to be expected from them?"

Yael furrows her brows a tiny bit more, and glances at the Get before her attention goes back to the mage one more time, and there is an edge to her voice now. Not anger, not rage— the adren wears her rage deeply buried— but there nonetheless. "Then why in Gaia's name are you walking around looking like a cougar anyway? Do you get off on deceiving people that you claim to be allied with?"

"Happenstance, mostly. A… fetish of sorts, which I came to acquire some years ago, lets me take this particular form. It's more appropriate for venturing into the woods," the cougar-mage replies.

Frederick tilts his head as he watches the Mage, he listens and with a quick glance over at the Strider he eventually apparently decides to not answer. Let the Adren do the interrogation and observe quietly seems to be the plan for now.

Yael hooks her thumb into the pocket of her jacket and nods once. "So the fact that it's a disguise doesn't have anything to do with it," she states. It's not an accusation, not entirely. "Who are you anyway?"

Brings-the-Pack admits, "It does function well as a disguise as well. I prefer to keep my life as a human separate from this, much like the garou do with humanity."

Frederick keeps his eye on the cougar and it's not hard to see his amusement. "Disguise from whom, though?" He shakes his head. "We don't hide from humanity, though. If it wasn't for a lot of stupid decisions in the past, we'd still rule it."

"We do preserve the Veil," Yael notes to the younger philodox, her head tilting to one side. She's watching his reaction as much as she's been watching the mage cat, it seems. "We are not in pre-history anymore. Asserting ourselves over humans and over other Bête was stupid in the first place, rather than focusing on what was actually needed of us to fight the Wyrm."

Brings-the-Pack looks a little surprised by the Get's words, but then seemingly agrees with what the Strider responds with. "Having heard of the War of Rage from both the garou and by other Bête, it is… It is good that it was ended, though the scars still run long and deep for many."

Frederick looks from Strider to Mage and back as he folds his arms in front of his chest again. "I'm not talking 'bout the War of Rage. Whether that one was necessary is debatable." It seems that he wanted to say more but instead he just shuts his mouth and shrugs. "Some ideas are just not too popular 'round here."

Yael wrinkles her nose. "No, you're talking about a return to the Impergium," she says drily, and then seems content enough to change the topic instead, addressing the cat again. "He did have a point though. We hide what should not be known from humanity. You, however, are hiding from both humanity and, I will re…" There is a pause and she searches for a word and continues, "reiterate, those you claim to be allied with. You're doing it even now, though I don't know quite what, but unless you're going to go so far as to claim that your 'fetish' also blocks our Gifts from working as they usually do, you're doing something."

"My identity, as a human, is openly known by the Alpha, Warder, and four other members of the sept— Emma, Mouse, Slug, and Salem— should it truly become relevant for the sept to know. But there is no need for the entire sept to know. Garou can fall. Garou can be tortured for information. And, should one or more of those unfortunate situations happen, and the whole sept knew of me and divulged that information to the Spirals, my life as a human would be over, and all of my family members— none of whom know what I am or of this world of shadows— would all be placed in danger. So, yes, I do keep some secrets from my allies," the cougar-mage concurs with the Strider's assessment. "Insofar as the gift you have been using on me— and yes, I can sense it— I am doing nothing to actively thwart it. Although I suspect some of my magick may be interfering with it inadvertently."

Frederick keeps listening as the Mage talks, his arms remain folded in front of his chest, though. He just shrugs and remarks, "As I said, not really popular here." He stretches his legs, but his mood doesn't really seem to sink significantly. He offers the Mage a simple smile and a, "Our families know what they're dealing with. At least they should. It's everyone's war, and there aren't any bystanders. Actually, if they don't know, they're in danger." He shrugs. "But that's your business."

Yael considers the exchange between the other two and finally lifts her shoulders. "And I suppose in the end that remains your choice to make," she admits. "And I would have been disappointed with the ability of the first warper I have ever met personally if you couldn't at least sense a simple gift."

"A simple yet useful gift," the mage-cat returns to the Strider. His attention then shifts largely to the Get. "Your kin often know of your own kind, aiding them, and being protected in return. I suspect the blood ties carry with them a spiritual component as well as a more primal instinctual one— an extension of the wolf's pack and the resonance you likely feel with that creature and its mentality. It is different with mages," he claims. "We tend to distance ourselves from our families as a means of separating them from the hidden aspects of our lives. It is, essentially, a means of protecting them via secrecy. By not being a part of… this… they are insulated from it more than if they were attempting to provide support." He summarizes, "It is merely two approaches toward the same result: protection of those who are less capable of defending themselves."

For a long time the Get is silent, and eventually he stands and gathers his backpack. "Family is what carries you, and in turn you protect them. But hey, I don't claim to understand what's going on with your kind." He shrugs as he nods to the Strider. "And if you excuse me, there's still stuff to be done in the house. If you need me, I'm inside."

Yael lifts a hand to the younger philodox as he leaves, and then turns her attention back to the mage-cat. "I have to say, hearing you speak English, in that form, is rather unsettling," she points out, a brief and quiet laugh following. "And also that you should know that I am not wholly convinced. For what little that matters."

Brings-the-Pack offers, "The language of the garou is unfortunately somewhat complicated to replicate. Otherwise, I would use that— provided it did not offend. As is, it's useful in further distinguishing that I am not a Pumonca. He then inquires, "What is it that you are not wholly convinced of?"

Yael moves about five feet or so towards the mage-cat, and then sits down cross-legged in the meadow in the light dusting of snow that has built up on the ground, readjusting both her jacket and her scarf after she's done so. Apparently, the conversation has gone on long enough that she intends to continue it, and she waves her hand towards the mage. "How much do you know," she asks, responding to a question with a question, "about the history of mages and the Garou?"

"That it is, like most relationships with the garou, contentious and peppered liberally with violence." The mage seems to be summarizing liberally. "And that there have been battles fought over caerns and other places of power." He cocks his head slightly. "You are concerned I am after the caern's power? That I might destroy it?"

Yael does not give much in terms of a clue as to a definitive yes or no to that. "Or that you will do so one day in the future regardless of what your intent is now and has been," the Strider says, pushing to her feet once again. "Amongst other things." She tilts her head, and lifts her shoulders. "In any case, it was… interesting to meet you, warper. I should be going, I have a little more business to get done."

Brings-the-Pack doesn't look entirely surprised by the comments, but not entirely unoffended by them either— although the slight seems minor and, likely, is nothing that hasn't been said before by others. "It was interesting to have met you as well. Do consider lingering in the area. The sept, I believe, could use the influx of experienced, travelled garou— even if they still have reservations about me," he adds with a hint of wit. "Luna guide you," he offers as a farewell, pushing to all fours, and padding off towards the woods.

Yael smiles, turning towards the house, and adds, "Road rise to meet you, warper." And with that, she heads inside.

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Kianan Rowan Abrams

July 2017

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