It is currently 20:02 Pacific Time on Sun Apr 10 2005.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is raining lightly. The temperature is 48 degrees
      Fahrenheit (8 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the 
      east at 5 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.00 and falling, and 
      the relative humidity is 86 percent. The dewpoint is 44 degrees 
      Fahrenheit (6 degrees Celsius.)
Currently the moon is in the waxing New Moon phase (12% full).

Safehouse: Basement
The basement runs about half the width of the house above, with a concrete
      block wall separating the two. Most of the the area is open and 
      unfinished and sports the usual basement decor of cobwebs, exposed 
      rafters, and cockroaches scuttling along the walls. The furnace and hot 
      water heater stand in glory in the northeast corner along with the fuse 
      box; the northwest corner has been set up as an open workshop with a pair 
      of fluorescent lights bolted to the ceiling. In the southwest corner 
      stands a vault: more concrete blocks enclose a room perhaps ten by ten 
      and a sturdy steel door denies passage either into or out of the place.
Steps lead up from the southeast corner.

Grey leads Rina downstairs to the concrete bunker that Natalie had built just
      for situations such as Cy. After giving a brisk knock on the heavy steel 
      door, he calls the cub's name. "Awake in there, Cy?"
"...Yeah," comes a young voice from the inside, almost mechanically.
Rina looks to Grey, careful and almost measuring. She gives him a nod, as if to
      say she's ready.
Grey glances over at Rina, his jaw tight, then opens the door -- it swings
      inward -- and precedes Rina inside. Like a good bodyguard, he makes sure 
      the cub isn't poised for an ambush before he lets the kinswoman in.
Rina steps inside, running a hand back through her hair in a habitual gesture.
      She doesn't say anything, at first--giving the cub a chance to recognize 
      and react, first.
No ambush, this time. The bunker is entirely clean and blank, except for a
      black plastic garbage bag leaning up against the 'Luggable Loo' 
      contraption in the corner, and a set of folded blankets. Cy is near the 
      wall directly across from the door, sprawled on her stomach with her chin 
      propped on the ground. As the door opens, something small and brown goes 
      skittering away from her hand and up the wall. The girl looks up, 
      impassive until her gaze falls on Rina. She blinks rapidly, the color 
      draining out of her face.

[Cy]
	There's not much to look at beneath the ratty shock of crimson hair; she's
      scrawny, and five-foot-four would be a generous height estimate. She has 
      a pale, weak-featured face that adds to her apparent youth--she could be 
      taken for about twelve at first glance. Round cheeks, snub nose, and 
      large brown eyes are haloed by a hacked-off bob of hair that's been dyed 
      fire-engine red, with an inch of dark roots starting to creep back in. 
      She's not wearing any piercings, but her earlobes are notably stretched 
      into loops more commonly seen on people in tribal documentaries. She 
      rarely smiles, and tends to squint. On the occasion she does show her 
      teeth, it's obvious that she's missing her upper left incisor.

	She's in a worn black t-shirt and gray sweatpants with the elastic at the
      ankles torn out; the latter are so baggy they almost fall off of her 
      narrow hips, and have to be rolled up at the cuffs. Within her too-large 
      clothing, she's got a sexless build with a short torso and nimble, 
      stick-like limbs that are obviously underfed.

Grey closes the door behind them and stands near it, his posture tense and
      alert. "Visitor for you. I think you know each other?" He watches Cy 
      carefully.
Rina offers a tentative, slightly wry half-smile. "Hey. Can I... can we talk, a
      little bit, about what's goin' on?"
The girl's scrambled to her feet, edging her way into the corner. Her eyes
      bounce quickly back and forth between the man and woman, and she's white 
      as a sheet: she seems more alarmed than Grey has ever seen her. One hand 
      reaches out to tap spastically at the concrete wall behind her--the 
      knuckles are noticably bruised and scabbed over.
Rina's expression disintegrates into pain and concern. "... Please?" she adds.
Grey murmurs, "Seems she does," and then turns himself into a wolf with an
      easy, skilled twist of bone and flesh. He gives himself a brisk shake, 
      then walks his haunches under him and sits down. He watches, ears pricked 
      forward and mismatched eyes alert.
Cy backs away until she's hit the corner. Eyes wide on the kinswoman, she gulps
      visibly--then looks over at Grey just as he shifts. Something about the 
      combination of the dark-haired woman and a shifting man-beast triggers 
      her into an expression of horror--and a rather violent stream of 
      retching. There goes dinner, splat on the concrete floor.
Rina winces, and moves toward her instinctively. "Oh, hon..." She detours to
      get a bottle of water, and looks around for a towel or something like it.
Grey's ears twist backwards, but otherwise he seems unperturbed. For Cy's sake,
      he doesn't stress her further by making with the 'talking' wolf routine, 
      though he tenses visibly when Rina approaches the volatile girl.
Taking a careful breath, Rina says, "Okay, hon. I'm gonna get you some water
      and a washcloth, okay? Then... I'll come back and maybe we can talk." She 
      gives Grey a look, then steps past him to slip out the door--giving the 
      wolf time to place himself properly between cub and escape route.
Coughing on her own spittle, the girl leans over weakly, propping hands on her
      knees. She squeezes her eyes shut after glancing down at the steaming 
      pile of half-digested pasta, and shakes her head. Slowly, she slides down 
      into her habitual ball against the concrete, knees up.
Grey gets up and pads a few steps closer to Cy. He looks up, sharing a glance
      with Rina, then sits down again, facing the disraught cub.
Rina exits, and the mechanical sound of the lock follows. She isn't gone long.
Grey's hackles rise at the sound of the door being locked, a purely reflexive
      response.
Cy lifts her gaze--teary from the vomiting--at the dark wolf. "..Why are you
      /doing/ this to me?"
She doesn't look like she expects an answer.
Grey focusses on the girl. There are hints of uneasiness in his body language,
      thanks to the locked door. He answers her with a huff. What am I doing?
The cub-in-denial groans as she comprehends his body language, and hides her
      face in both hands. "This is /so fucked/." She curls up tighter, 
      defending herself from the reality of being locked in a tiny underground 
      cell with a one-eyed wolf.
Grey huffs again, gives himself a good hard shake, then paces back to the door,
      his toenails going click-click-click on the concrete floor.
After an interminable minute and a half, the latches click and Rina slips
      inside quickly, her arms full. She has a grocery bag of bottled water 
      over one wrist, and a wet washcloth and towels over her arm. After the 
      door is closed behind her, and the wolf stationed to guard it, she asks, 
      "Can I come over, Cy? I got a wet cloth, so you can wash your face. And a 
      toothbrush, which is not to be used for stabbing. And some toothpaste."
Cy looks up, staring longingly at the space shown by the open door for a second
      before it closes behind Rina. Sniffling a bit, she frowns at the woman 
      with bewilderment. "What are you /doing/ here?" It's probably the longest 
      sentence Rina's ever heard the girl string together.
"I'm Kin," Rina answers coming over to her and offering the wet washcloth. The
      dark eyes look at her, direct and uncompromising. "Which means if you 
      lose control, you could kill me."
The red-haired girl takes the washcloth absently, hocking a rather impressive
      gob of spit on the ground before wiping her face. "D'no what 
      y'talking'bout." She's reverted to mumbling, after her moment of 
      articulate speech.
Grey shifts his weight restlessly, head slinking low to sniff the floor, then
      rising back up again. A long pink tongue swipes across his nose.
Rina takes a careful breath, and lets it out. "Okay. Have they told you... what
      you are?"
Cy looks at the woman for a long, level moment. Her dark eyes are calculating;
      then her face falls visibly. "You sent them after me." It's 
      half-accusatory, half disbelieving.
Grey lets out a snort. Does she /look/ like a cockroach to you?
Rina shakes her head minutely, holding the girl's gaze. "Where would I tell
      them to find you? I got nothin' on you, kiddo. Here. Wipe your face, 
      rinse out your mouth. You'll feel better." There's an odd gentleness 
      about her, something that has never been displayed outside on the street, 
      in her former dealings with the girl.
The slight girl passes the washcloth back to Rina, then accepts one of the
      bottles of water. She looks down at it for a moment, testing the seal on 
      the cap with a frown. When it proves to be untampered, she takes a 
      swallow. "Y'inna cult too?" Her gaze cuts sideways towards the wolf.
Grey lies down with a low huff, lupine body stretched out in front of the door.
      From here, he remains quiet, though stays alert in case of violence.
Tossing the washcloth to the floor, Rina unpacks the bottles of water.
      Toothbrush and toothpaste are set beside them, somewhere convienient, 
      well away from the puke on the floor. "I guess you could call it that. A 
      cult you're born into. Or something genetic you inherit, that comes with 
      a set of religious beliefs. Depends what kinda spin you want to put on 
      it." She watches the girl. "I mean, you can't ignore the facts. They're 
      shapeshifters. And apparently so are you."
Cy stares at the woman long and hard, swishing water around in her mouth for a
      moment. "I'm hallucinating," she says firmly--it sounds like something 
      she's repeated many times.
Rina gives a small shake of her head. "No. You're stuck in a basement, with
      people telling you that you're something impossible."
That earns the kinswoman a scowl, and the girl looks down sharply at her knees.
      She's silent for a long moment, rubbing at her unnaturally-bright hair in 
      a way that makes it stand on end. Her mouth opens, then shuts; whatever 
      argument she might have had is aborted.
Rina opens a bottle of water for herself, and drinks; then she sets it aside
      and drops to a crouch, to start cleaning up the little pile of vomit. 
      "So. You're Garou. You must have shifted--I've been told you don't have 
      much control."
Cy blinks, then slides a brief, unreadable look in the direction of the wolf by
      the door. Her jaw tenses slightly, thin muscles working beneath the skin. 
      Looking back to Rina, she asks, "W'else have you heard?"
"You're a half-moon," Rina murmurs. "Which is interesting. Do you have strong
      feelings, about what's right and wrong? Strong morals?" She looks up from 
      her work for a moment to gauge the answer.
The girl holds her gaze for half a breath, then breaks away. "I think
      's'fuckin' /wrong/ t'lock a kid in solitary," she mutters lowly, as 
      though hoping her answer won't reach any furry ears in the room.
Rina nods minutely. "And if that kid might flip out, go postal, turn into a
      massive monster and kill dozens of bystanders? At some random and 
      unpredictable time in the future?"
Rina scoops up an unpleasant pile of vomit in the washcloth and deposits it in
      the trash, then returns to pick up a bit more--gradually cleaning the 
      little puddle from the concrete.
The plastic water bottle in Cy's hands cracks ominously as she squeezes it. She
      grunts, decisively. "Yer nuts too." She's momentarily distracted as a 
      roach goes skittering across the top edge of the far wall.
The woman pauses a moment, and then nods.
"Yeah," Rina says, "but not because I believe in what's right in front of my
      eyes. Mostly I'm fucked up because I had someone I love die in my arms, 
      because of me. And then when I, being an utter nut job, fell in love 
      *again*, with /another/ fucking lost cause warrior, I lost him, too." Her 
      voice is low, quiet, matter-of-fact--but it doesn't quite hide all the 
      brokenness under the surface. "I'm not crazy for believing in spirits. Or 
      werewolves. Or people that can heal you with magic."
She keeps cleaning the floor, removing the vomit in little handfuls; then she
      uses one of the towels to wipe up. She wraps the nasty washcloth in the 
      towel, then, clean side out.
Silent and still throughout the woman's story, Cy watches her surreptitiously
      as she works. She sniffles, scrubbing at her nose with one hand, then 
      eyes the scabs on her own bruised knuckles with an absent-minded frown. 
      "I don't understand." The words are bleak, and could mean many different 
      things at once.
"You were born with it. It's not their fault. Or yours." Sitting on her heels,
      Rina looks up at the girl. "It's something you have to learn to live 
      with. And it comes with certain... obligations."
The girl's gaze is frank and stubborn as she looks right back at Rina,
      unblinking. "/Werewolves don't exist/," she says flatly. Her eyes 
      pointedly avoid the beast by the door.
Rina straightens, and steps over to the wolf. She looks down to him, pointedly.
      "You can't exactly wish that away."
Cy follows the woman's look to stare at the strangely-scarred wolf, and
      blanches visibly. For a moment, she looks like she's about to be sick 
      again--but instead, the urchin simply buries her head in both hands. "I 
      can't be here." She repeats the phrase, lower this time; her narrow frame 
      begins to rock subtly back and forth against the concrete wall.
"Why? You got somewhere to be?" The dark eyes look across to her, narrowed.
A small, bloody-knuckled fist slams harshly onto the concrete floor. "I'm going
      /insane/," she growls through clenched teeth, brown eyes flashing up at 
      the woman.
"No," Rina says quietly. "You're not." She touches a hand to Grey's ruff in a
      brief, small gesture of reassurance.
The fist gradually loosens into splayed fingers, and Cy taps an agitated
      pattern on the floor with her grubby nails. Levelling a narrow-eyed stare 
      at Rina, she sniffs; her nose is running again. "Fine. Then you tell me 
      /'zactly/ what's going on here."
"Okay. Basically, a spirit came to someone around here, and let us know that
      you were around. And getting close to your first change." Rina drops to a 
      crouch next to Grey, perfectly comfortable at his side, her hand buried 
      in his ruff. "You're Garou. We don't want you going postal and flipping 
      out and killing people, so we lock you up, teach you control, and 
      gradually give back your freedom as we learn to trust each other."
Cy snorts lightly, spreading both hands in a show of self-deprecation. "I
      don'even have my knife on me." A thin brow arches, somewhat bitterly. "Do 
      I /look/ like I could kill somebody?"
Rina raises an eyebrow. "Not at the moment. But you could pop, any minute."
Frowning, the red-haired girl tucks both arms around her legs, pulling her
      knees in tight. "...Are /you/ Ga--Guh--" She stumbles over the word for a 
      moment, then mutters sarcastically, "--Whatever. /Are/ you?"
"Garou," she says quietly. "And no. I'm what you call Kinfolk. A cousin. If I
      could have children, they might be Garou."
Cy taps her toes absently, and nods once--that's /one/ answer that seems to
      obviously satisfy her. "So you can't--" She jerks her pointed chin at 
      Grey-turned-wolf, without finishing the sentence.
Rina shakes her head minutely. "That's why he's here," she says quietly. "In
      case you freak. So I don't get shredded."
A long, thin breath escapes the girl's lungs, as she eyes the unlikely
      pair--wolf and woman--from across the vault. The toe-tapping continues, 
      spasmodically. "These're some crazy drugs," she mutters under her breath. 
      Her dark-ringed gaze is bleak beneath the sullen veneer.
The woman's expression shadows a bit. "Are you supposed to be on meds?" she
      asks, softly.
Cy says "/No/," Cy answers, bristling defensively. "'M bein' /drugged/.""
Rina wets her lips, and glances down for a moment before looking across to her
      again. "No," she answers quietly.
The girl's narrow jaw sets firmly, and a steely glint shows suddenly behind her
      eyes. "Done talkin'," she grunts abruptly, folding both arms across her 
      chest. That brown-eyed gaze drops to some insignifigant spot on the 
      floor. Icy cold.
Frowning slightly, Rina says, "You sure?" She tries, of course, to keep the
      hurt from her expression.
Cy nods once, shoulders stiffening. She'd be glaring a hole straight through
      the concrete floor, if she could. No words.
"I hope we can talk again, soon. If you want, I could stay here for a while, so
      I'm around for you." Her voice is quiet. Cautiously, she paces over 
      toward Cy, walking eggshells.
The girl quivers with carefully-contained emotion as the woman approaches, but
      keeps her eyes on the averted. A tiny muscle at the corner of her left 
      eye twitches, but she makes no move to shy away.
Revision, thanks to deadbrain: The girl quivers with carefully-contained
      emotion as the woman approaches, but keeps her eyes on the ground. A tiny 
      muscle at the corner of her left eye twitches. She makes no move to shy 
      away.
Rina crouches down, not too close; the wolf slinks along with her, keeping a
      watchful eye on Kin and cub. "Do you want that? If it's... easier to talk 
      to me than them... maybe it'd be good."
It takes a few long heartbeats for Cy to answer, and when she does, it's barely
      a breath: "I'll think about it." A tiny crack shows in the facade as she 
      meets Rina's eyes, briefly: a frightened little girl. The glimpse is gone 
      just as quickly, buried in a frown.
"Okay," Rina says quietly. "I'll stick around, just in case." She looks over to
      Grey, and straightens; then she heads for the door, picking up the 
      unfortunate towel-bundle on the way. The wolf goes with her, turned so as 
      to watch Cy on his way out. "Hang in there," Rina says. "And I'll make 
      sure someone takes care of the trash, even if it has to be Thomas." She 
      steps out, the wolf following her--and then comes the inevitable sound of 
      the locks.