[personal profile] kiananlogs
Monday, 13 February 2017
The moon is in the waning Full (Ahroun) Moon phase (82% full).

Samantha stalks the woods, her knives in their sheaths about herself, as she moves through the bawn. She's been out in Wendigo and Uktena territory more than not lately and been very careful when ever she comes close to the bawn anymore.

Evening finds Yael at the Caern once more, settled cross-legged a few feet away from the fire pit. She's still got the slightly worn winter coat, and her headscarf drawn fairly close around as well as covering her hair as usual. The Silent Strider is murmuring quietly to herself— her mouth is moving but there is no sound, although she looks towards the path into the caern when she hears motion.

Samantha slowly advances on the caern. She doesn't take many chances anymore when she comes here and with Luna so full, she's going to take it nice and slow. Trees are her best friend as she peeks towards the one already there.

Yael folds her hands in her lap and continues whatever it is she's doing, with barely a nod of acknowledgement when she does spot the Wendigo in the trees. Or it could have just been a random movement as she shifts her seated posture a little bit. For the perceptive who are within earshot, the Strider is murmuring underneath her breath, the same phrase in Hebrew over and over again.

Samantha grins as she find someone that doesn't seem to be much of a threat, at least not in the way people have been lately. Slowly, she moves out from behind her tree and starts to approaching the murmuring one.

Yael continues the mantra underneath her breath, perhaps ten more times as the ragabash approaches, and then seems to be done. "Good evening," she states. However nonthreatening her appearance, the two words carry a significant amount of weight and expectation to them, and the tone of confidence of someone who knows what she is doing.

Samantha comes to a stop a few steps off and looks the woman over. "Good evening." she answers. She takes a moment to glance about the woods as if to make sure they're alone or not. "I don't remember you," she states bluntly.

Yael gives the younger woman a long glance, rather than make an immediate response, a few moments of concentration evident. "Of course," she notes. "My name is Shai-Nefer." For the moment, the Strider's smile is only evident in her eyes, and even that is more of a piercing gaze focused on the Wendigo. "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 and guest here for the time being."

"Ohh, interesting." Samantha replies with a smile. "I'm Samantha Greenwood, rited Wind in Her Words. Fostern Ragabash of the Wendigo, scout of Deep Waters pack. You sure you're supposed to be around here by yourself?"

"Quite certain," Yael responds with a nod, and that gaze doesn't waver from the Wendigo one bit, although the Strider is not trying to provoke the younger Garou either. "I've spoken with the Alpha as far as my guest status and that I am welcome here when I am in town. It is good to be able to meditate and rest after as long as I had been on the road."

"Good, if the alpha approved you, then I don't need to worry about doing any more than spy on you if I think you look suspicious," Samantha replies, a wide grin upon her lips as she says it. She seems relaxed as she steps closer and moves to sit nearby.

Yael raises one brow, although that's about all the motion she seems willing to expend. "And just what would 'look suspicious' look like?" she queries.

"Well, you see, if I was to tell you that, then you'd make sure not to do it, so I wouldn't spy on you," Samantha replies before adding. "Then again, you might do it all just to see if I would spy on you."

"And if you did spy on me I might just have to make sure you were never able to do it again," Yael says, tone flat enough that it is difficult to tell if that is a joke. "My business is my own, and I don't take interference very kindly."

Samantha shrugs her shoulders as she leans back where she sits, resting her weight on her arms. "You must have come a really far way. Did you see with your own eyes the other caerns that fell?"

Yael tilts her head to one side, and considers the question. "I think," she says, "I came from farther away yet than that. Although I had heard of the losses suffered in this country, but there are losses— significant ones— everywhere these days." She then adds, "Wheel of P'tah is a sept of my tribe in Morocco, and Qal'at al-Subeiba is shared by my tribe and the Black Furies in Israel, not far from where I was born and grew up."

Samantha listens intently, nodding her head slowly. "I managed to snag my mate from a sept to the east before his sept fell. It's a victory when we can fall back and regroup, to live to fight another day, if you ask me."

"It is," Yael agrees. A little bit of thought, and the Strider continues, "It is more of a victory when we can save a sept and prevent the need to fall back in the first place."

Samantha shrugs slightly. "Yea, well, everything doesn't go our way all the time." she offers. "If they did, well, I wouldn't be out here alone right now."

Yael raises one eyebrow, again, and looks at Samantha. "There is a lot of peace to be gained in solitude," she offers. "In simply sitting here, and breathing, and feeling Gaia all around us."

Samantha smirks at this. "Peace I can get in my sleep." she replies. "Or when scouting the wyld on my own." She shrugs once more and sits up straighter.

Yael shakes her head a little bit at the first comment, but doesn't say anything further for the moment.

Samantha looks about them for a moment before getting up and moving over to find a piece of wood that seems to have fallen from a tree or maybe brought in with others for fire before. WIth this in hand, she turns and returns to her spot near Yael. "Everyone sleeps."

"But not everyone finds— or can find— peace from it," the adren finally says, although there is a nod. "Eventually you have watched too many people die, seen too many ghosts."

It's a strange moment to walk in on, and an even stranger conversation to overhear, if the approaching blonde's expression is any indication. Dressed in the usual semi-business-professional attire, with a longer coat to ward off the chill, she steps closer to Yael than Samantha, the Wendigo given a casual but notable once-over. "Haven't we all?" she says, somewhat blandly, seeming to think she's been noticeable enough that she won't startle anyone.

Samantha rolls her eyes at the strider's words before looking up at the blonde who speaks to them as she arrives. Her gaze goes back to Yael. "I've seen enough death and been stupid enough to nearly meet death personally a couple times. I think I'd prefer to let those who face us have a chance to meet death instead." She looks back to Sandra then, even as she draws out her combat knife and starts to whittle at the wood she recently retrieved.

Producing the knife gets a brow raise, and a curious look besides. "I don't think that was the main thrust of what she was saying," Sandra replies, "but I suppose that's besides the point." A beat. "Sandra Ulrich," she says, then, just launching straight into the introduction. "Fostern Philodox, Shadow Lords."

"Samantha Greenwood." Samantha replies as she whittles more on the stick. "Wind in Her Words. Fostern Ragabash of the Wendigo, scout of Deep Waters." She smiles up at the woman. "I've watched my other half head to meet death, I'm not in a hurry to follow him."

"I can't blame you," Sandra replies, staying not far from where Yael's positioned, though it remains a respectful distance. "I haven't had the opportunity to cross paths with too many Wendigo, admittedly. For whatever it's worth, it's a pleasure to finally have the opportunity." It's all very formal, but doesn't seem completely insincere. Nor does it seem to be stated in a tone that's expecting any backpatting for having said so.

Yael falls silent and offers Sandra a nod and a quiet smile with her arrival, before tucking her hands into her pocket and turning her attention to the fire for a few minutes. That raised-eyebrow look happens once more, though, and then the adren finally speaks again. "This sept has more members of more tribes in one place than anywhere I have been outside of a grand moot," she says. "And possibly even than a few of those."

Samantha chips off another sliver of wood as she smiles at Sandra. "Most people don't feel like that when they meet me, most seem to want to rip my arms off and beat me with them." she offers lightly before glancing briefly towards Yael before grinning back at Sandra.

"Better than trying to turn them into a charm bracelet, one supposes," Sandra says dryly. "Somewhere along the way, I suppose I'll know if I fit into either category." To Yael, she says, "And I'm inclined to agree. Only Undine Falls had much of a mix, though it was predominantly Uktena, and 'mix' doesn't hold up particularly well to the sample size here."

"And just what were you doing that inspired that sort of a reaction, I have to wonder," Yael says, although there isn't the sort of push behind the question as to demand an answer.

Samantha shrugs her shoulders as she focuses on her whittling. "I have my rite name for a reason," she offers in response.

"Tends to be the case for everyone, doesn't it?" Sandra replies, her attention straying to the surroundings.

Yael grins a bit. "That is more or less how the whole names thing works, at least usually," she agrees. "In any case, I don't currently want to tear your arms off. It would be messy."

"And painful as can be, I can assure from the last time someone did, mostly." Samantha adds before holding up the sharpened stick to peer at it. She looks to the other two again then and smiles. "I've been working on it, but maybe if you stick around, you'll really understand."

"I've been in the company of enough Ragabash to hazard a guess," Sandra says, her gaze still flitting about to take in the details. Apparently, this is the first time she's been up here. "No real need for proof of concept, though they're usually happy to supply it free of charge."

"And I would just as soon usually they didn't," Yael says, grinning. "Although to some degree, almost all of the Ajaba are ragabash no matter what else their aspect dictates, so maybe I am just used to it."

Samantha turns the stick, point down, and stabs the ground next to her with it. Then, she sheaths her knife. "Oh, it's not that bad. From everything I hear, my own tribe should get more annoyed with me than the rest of you, but it's really the opposite." She pushes herself to her feet then. "Speaking of which, I need to finish my patrol and get back."

Sandra turns her attention back to Samantha, expression still more or less neutral. "It was a pleasure meeting you," she says simply. "Good luck on your patrol."

Yael nods once, and there's a quiet huff. "Road rise to meet you," she offers to Samantha, and to Sandra, she says, with a slightly amused tone of voice and the smile actually showing for the moment, "See, 'interesting'."

Samantha gives a nod of her head towards the two. "I'll try to resist spying on you two after I go," she remarks before turning away and stepping quickly back into the trees.

"Indeed," Sandra replies, brow arching at the rather frank discussion of spying. "I realize that spy agencies the world over take it as a given that every other agency is watching them at all times, but I have to wonder how much would change if they were suddenly courteous enough to let each other know when they were planning to do it."

Yael watches the treeline for a long moment, and then snorts. "I mean, I'm perfectly guilty of being nosy much of the time," the Strider says, "but at least I am usually nosy through direct questions and not skulking about." She grins. "Speaking of, I had the chance to meet both the warper and the Kitsune— who is also Uktena kin— which has been interesting."

Sandra's attention strays back to Yael rather quickly, that brow staying raised. "The Kitsune is Uktena kin?" she asks, for clarification. "What all did you glean from the conversation, if you don't mind my asking?"

"The Kitsune is Uktena kin," Yael confirms, "and I think he's been around the block at least a few times. He seemed pretty open-minded with regards to the rest of the Bête, which didn't at all match up with what I've heard of them." There's a bit of a snort of laughter, and she continues, "And the mage has an ego."

Sandra cants her head somewhat at the use of the word 'Bête', but she seems able to follow along with what the term means thanks to its context. Her brows lift at the mention of the mage, however, her gaze again shifting to the firepit itself. "Somehow," she says, "this doesn't come as a surprise. The name 'Brings-the-Pack' says enough on its own."

Another snort follows, and Yael just shakes her head. "I got the impression also that the mage is trying very much to acknowledge our culture and our ways," she says, "but maybe he is trying to fill some sort of void he has experienced, and thought making up a name would be a good way to do so. I am not sure."

Sandra's attention returns to Yael. "'Fill a void?'" she asks.

The Silent Strider pushes to her feet, and chews on her lower lip. "It is something I saw a lot of," Yael explains. "Someone without strong ties to their own culture comes into contact with a culture where people are in touch with themselves and their traditions— in America with Native Americans, in Africa with regional tribes and villages— and they try to fit themselves into it because it provides something they were lacking." She shakes her head. "It doesn't usually work, or at least it carries as much potential for harm."

"In this case," Sandra replies, "like attracts like, I suppose. Though there are the rare few among us who strive to do better." Another glance to the Strider. A compliment, perhaps? Or something else? Hard to say. Seems sincere, whatever it is. "I'll be curious to know how the Nation outside these borders judges this place when the time comes. And, given what he is, curious to see if there's anything left of it." A pause. A moment's thought. "We should speak more, soon. And regularly, I think, for those times you're available. I suspect there's a great deal of work to do here, not the least of which will fall on our heads when the time comes."

Yael nods once again. "I'll be out for a few days, going to take some time to get to know the local area," she says, "but don't worry, I'll be back, too." There is a slight smile offered to the other philodox. "I don't keep a cell phone most of the time, but any message can be left for me either on that bulletin board I saw at the Edgewood, or the Greek house, and I am sure I will get them." She turns to go, but first offers another nod, and then there's a first-hand demonstration of what was probably the silently disappearing trick, as the adren, light on her feet, picks a path back up and to the woods without making much sound, and then is off into the trees.


Kianan Rowan Abrams

July 2017


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