It is currently 19:54 Pacific Time on Sat Jul 3 2004.
Currently the moon is in the waning Full Moon phase (91% full).

Cockroach Mansion, in the downstairs parlor.

When the buzzer rang Nat went to answer it, admitting Taslyn after a moment's
      shock. "Come on in," she invites the Fianna, closing the door after the 
      Philodox. "Didn't expect to see you here. What can I do for you?" 
      Chaney's settled into the parlor on the couch, a loud and flashy movie 
      playing. Rumble in the Bronx, to be precise.
Taslyn holds up a bag with a large design of a toy store on the side. "I
      brought a present for the new arrival." She opens the bag and lets 
      Natalie have a look inside it to see if she approves.
Chaney has her knees pulled up to her chest, and her eyes are glued to the tv
      screen. She hardly looks up at the buzzer, and only glances over a moment 
      when the stranger comes in. Then it's all about the ultraviolence.
Natalie peeks inside with a thoughtful, "Huh. Thank you. ...She's in the
      parlor. Come on." She leads Taslyn into the parlor and nods her to a 
      chair. "Chaney, you remember Taslyn, don't you?" She swings by the remote 
      to mute it, then continues around the perimeter of the room, closing 
      drapes and letting Taslyn show Chaney her present.

[Taslyn]
	Short blonde-brown hair hugs the round and pretty face of Tas. It often flys
      into her hazel eyes and her hand is usually pushing it back out of the 
      way. Often her face has a wry grin that comes from a lightly tanned and 
      slightly freckled face. A few holes in her ears usually show off some 
      sort of steel hoop. Her fashion is often what feels comfortable and not 
      necessarily what looks good. Around her neck can be any number of one to 
      many necklaces, but there is always the one with the charm of the small 
      half-moon.
	She wears a blue t-shirt with some kind of wild design on the front, covered
      up by a sweatshirt that allows the t-shirt to stick out at the bottom. A 
      pair of faded and worn jeans with a hole peeking out of one knee adorn 
      her legs. Through the hole you can see a plaid fabric, most likely a pair 
      of sleep pants thrown on to keep warm in the cold weather. A leather 
      jacket is thrown over all of it for warmth, along with a baseball cap 
      with blue flames along the bill. On her feet are a pair of black Doc 
      Marten boots that have lots of wear and tear on them. One boot shows off 
      a pair of rainbow laces while the other has laces of blue flames. On her 
      ring finger is a band of platinum, surrounded by gold that looks like a 
      wedding band.

Taslyn reaches deep into the bag and pulls out a bright blue plastic tarp. She
      spreads it out on the ground and looks to Chaney. "Your new floor for the 
      next while." As she grins and waits for Chaney to com closer before 
      bringing out the rest.
Chaney utters a little grunt-whine of protest as Natalie makes the sound go
      away, and she squirms in her seat. The tarp manages to get some interest 
      from the cub, though, and she unfolds her legs and sits up, studying it 
      curiously.
"And a much appreciated one," is Nat's comment as she flicks the front drape
      closed. She gives the street outside a long look, then turns back to the 
      room and hooks her thumbs into her pockets.
Taslyn reaches down and into the bag, pulling out a huge pad of paper and sets
      it up in a a-frame way so the paper can be seen and worked on it. Next to 
      the pad are set out several pots of paint in various colors. She sits 
      down herself and opens the red, dipping her fingers into it and dragging 
      them across the paper.
Chaney's head cocks to one side, and her nostrils flare visibly, sniffing the
      air. Slowly, the cub slides off the couch and goes over toward the tarp. 
      The way it crinkles under her bare foot gives her pause for a moment; her 
      manner unsure of this odd new surface.
"It's all right, Chaney," Nat says calmly from her vantage point. She adds for
      the Philo's sake, "If you want to shift to explain things, go ahead. It's 
      safe."
Taslyn waves a hand. "Yeah. It's all right. Go ahead. Come on over... I think
      this is something you will enjoy." She grins and makes another swipe on 
      the paper, finishing a smiley face.
The others' words of assurance -- more their tone and expressions than the
      actual words -- eventually lure Chaney onto the bright crinkly tarp to 
      where Taslyn sits with the paper and the paints. She squats down next to 
      the Fianna, looking at her, then the paper, then the paints.
Natalie skirts around the edges of the room, heading for the parlor door. "You
      going to be all right with her if I scoot for a minute, Taslyn? I want to 
      run upstairs and get something."
Taslyn nods and pops the top on the blue paint, offering it to Chaney. "Go
      ahead. Won't hurt you. You just can't eat it." Just making sure.
Chaney leans over, using one hand to balance herself, and peers into the blue
      paint-pot. After a moment, she pokes a few fingers of her other hand into 
      the stuff, then pulls it out and stares at the dripping liquid on them. 
      Then brings it toward her face -- either to sniff or to taste.
Taslyn brings her own hand to her face and sniffs at it. Maybe teaching by
      example before she places her hand back on the paper and makes a little 
      sun in the corner.
Natalie snorts quietly and ducks out into the hall. A moment later her
      footsteps can be heard taking the main steps two at a time.
Chaney refrains from tasting the paint, though she does sniff at it for a few
      long seconds before noticing what Taslyn's done. She scoots closer in 
      order to reach the paper and leaves a blue smear on it.
Taslyn grins. "Good work!" As she reaches up with her good hand and pulls the
      piece of paper off. She reaches over and pulls off the tops to each one 
      of the pots in varying colors. "Go ahead... All yours." She smiles and 
      indicates the paper, wiping her hand on a towel she brought with her.
Chaney grunts vaguely, scooting closer still, and plants her butt down on the
      tarp near the paper and the paints. After a moment of consideration, she 
      pokes her fingers into the red -- contaminating it with some of the blue 
      by accident -- and sniffs it. Then, thoughtful-looking, she plants 
      another smear on the paper.
"I like the mixing..." Tas says and holds a towel over to Chaney. "Or maybe
      you'd want to wipe your hand off if you don't want to mix them." She 
      looks to Chaney for a bit and then thinks. ~Would it be easier if I spoke 
      in lupus?~ She says to the other, just in case.
Chaney peers closely at Taslyn as the Fianna starts growling, but doesn't show
      any more comprehension than she did for English.
Taslyn nods a little more and just pops a finger into a pot and draws what
      looks like a tree... Taslyn's artistic skills aren't the best/
Natalie can be heard coming down the steps again, more slowly and decorously
      this time.
Well, Chaney's aren't anything special either, unless you're big into random
      abstract art. Her attention drawn back to the paper when Taslyn paints on 
      it again, she grabs some more red and smears it in a big whole-handed 
      blob on the paper, partially obscuring Taslyn's tree.
A mechanized voice informs the hallway that V is for vase just as Nat appears
      in the doorway, a grin on her face and a stuffed frog in her hands. The 
      frog has the alphabet gridded onto its belly. "Here we go -- oh, you've 
      got her drawing. Great!"
Taslyn nods. "Yeah. I was about to try and do some simple words... If you will
      let me. Kinda have to ask if I can teach someone's cub." AS she takes the 
      red blob and draws the paint out into a round red ball. "A ball." She 
      says as if it was a big deal, looking at Chaney.
"Ah uuuh," agrees the cub, planting her red (and a little blue) covered hand in
      the middle of the circle. She drags her fingers downwards. Now the ball 
      has legs. Or something. Chaney leaves several more hand-smears on the 
      paper before the paint on her hand runs out.
Perhaps the ball is melting. "Sure, go ahead," Nat agrees easily as she takes a
      seat at the side of the tarp, the frog held securely on her lap. "She's 
      got letters - or she recognizes the shapes. Go ahead and try 'Chaney'. 
      See if she recognizes it."
Taslyn dips her finger into the purple after wiping it off. She makes block
      letters over the paper, C-H-A-N-E-Y. Then she looks to Chaney and smiles, 
      "What do you think?"
Chaney attempts to 'help' Taslyn with some green, but about halfway through she
      pauses to watch closely; she stares at the letters and looks thoughtful.
Natalie watches the cub as closely as she's watching the paper. "Try 'bagle',"
      she instructs the Fianna, sotto-voice.
Taslyn looks over her shoulder and nods. She dips her finger again and writes
      B-A-G-E-L. She points at Chaney and looks to the girl, "Chaney." And then 
      under bagel, leaving a streak of paint with her fingers, "Bagel."
Chaney's tongue pokes out and licks at her upper lip, it being not long enough
      to reach her nose. "Aaaah-h," she says, in the same tone that Taslyn said 
      'Chaney'. And then again, in the tone Taslyn said 'bagel'.
"Chaney /likes/ bagels," Nat informs the others - well, Taslyn, as Chaney
      already knows this fact. "C is for Cake, isn't it? -And- Chaney." She 
      points to the purple 'c'. "C, Chaney."
Taslyn nods. "Very good!" Then she turns to Chaney and tries to enunciate
      widely. "Try it like me." As she says it, "Chaaaaaaaneeeey. Starts with a 
      C..."
Chaney scratches her nose, getting a remnant of red paint on it. She watches
      Taslyn intently, blue eyes narrowed behind the auburn hair. Her lips move 
      like the Fianna's, though hesitantly, but no sound comes out.
Natalie settles back, looking between the two.
Taslyn tries it again. "Ch-." She says it again. "Ch. Try just that."
Chaney, after making her mouth do what she sees Taslyn's do, makes a few
      grunting noises before hissing air out between her teeth. It's not a 'ch' 
      but it is a 'sh' at least.
Taslyn nods. "Better, better..." As she looks at the girl. "Let's try a.
      Aaaaaa." She looks to Chaney and opens her mouth wide to show her. 
      "Aaaaaa. Not Ah... Aaaaa."
Chaney figets with the hem of her t-shirt, tugging on it absent-mindedly.
      "Ayyyy..."
A is for apple, the frog agrees.
Chaney blinks and looks over at Little Leap in Natalie's hands.
Natalie grins at the cub. "A is for apple. A also sounds like Chaaaaaney. See?
      Chaaaaaaney."
Chaney attempts to say it, but it comes out more like, "Ssaaaaaaaay-ee."
Taslyn grins even more. "That is really good!" As she looks to Natalie and
      gives the woman a thumbs up. "How about we try my name. Real easy one. 
      Tas." She looks to Chaney and repeats. "Taaaaas. Same as Chaaaaaaney."
Chaney shifts her weight, wrigging slightly, looking pleased at the praise.
      "Daaaahss," she says, naming Taslyn.
"Pretty damn close," the Walker says approvingly. "Good girl, Chaney. And here
      Remus was getting his balls in a wad because she couldn't speak English."
Taslyn claps her hand, looking overjoyed at the progress. "And that is Nat."
      She says it really short and chops off the end. "Say Nat!"
"Ah!" 'barks' Chaney, making the word short and chopped.
"Hmm." Nat wrinkles her nose. "We haven't worked on 'N' yet."
Taslyn grins at Chaney, loving every moment of this. A finger goes into a pot
      and she draws a big N. "Ennnnnnnnn" She says making sure Chaney sees her 
      tongue placement. "Ennnnnn."
Chaney shifts her weight again, making the tarp crackle underneath her. The
      Ahroun cub is getting visibly restless. Her eventual 'nnnn' has a 
      distinctly whiny, nasal quality.
Taslyn nods as if finishing a lesson, noticing Chaney getting restless. "Now...
      We paint." Tas gets her whole hand full of paint and plants her hand in 
      the middle of a clean page. Then she makes a bird out of the hand.
Natalie hmms again and reaches out a hand toward the Fianna. "Don't let me let
      you get out of here without having her give you an intro in Mother's 
      Tongue," she suggests.
"Ay," Chaney agrees, happy to get her hands back into the paints. Both hands.
      And while Taslyn may keep trying to make trees and birds and such, the 
      cub seems far more interested in random blobs and smears of various 
      colors.
Taslyn nods to Nat and grins. "Of course. We all need education." She holds her
      paint covered hand out, then takes a towel and wipes it off before 
      accepting Natalie's. "I miss the teaching." She says softly, more than 
      just that, I miss the learning about others."
Natalie cocks her head at the other cliath while she continues to cradle the
      frog. "Why do you miss teaching? ...She's an Ahroun, by the way, good 
      call stopping things. Though with me here I don't think she'd've tried 
      anything. Still, it's best not to take chances."
Chaney ignores the 'grown-ups' talking as she works at covering the paper with
      as much paint as possible. Red seems to be a favorite color. Red and 
      orange and yellow.
Taslyn looks back to Chaney and smiles. Then she directs her attention back to
      Nat. "Megan has forbidden me to teach anybody but the Fianna cubs. All 
      over my problem." As if calling it the problem is the say all of what it 
      is. "I really miss it. A part of me is missing. But Megan is Alpha." She 
      dips a finger and does some squigglies through a blotch for Chaney.
Natalie's eyebrows draw down as she considers the implications of the
      Philodox's words. "...Exactly how much crap am I going to get into for 
      tonight?"
Chaney grunts a protest at the Fianna's interjection into her masterpiece and
      quickly covers up the squiggle with her own smears of purple.
Taslyn shrugs. "I suppose not much as it isn't Garou things I am teaching." She
      sighs and looks to Nat. "I just had to do something, you know?"
Natalie doesn't look all that convinced. "I think you'd better tell Megan what
      you were doing," she tells the other woman firmly. "Yes, I invited you to 
      do it, but I didn't know that you were... weren't supposed to do it. And 
      yes, you can tell her that, too."
Chaney, meanwhile, continues to create a masterpiece of abstract art. Someone
      call a NY art gallery.
Taslyn hangs her head. "I will. I'm sorry... I didn't come here thinking..."
      She gets to her feet. "I just found that stuff for Chaney and thought it 
      might help you. I better get going."
Natalie shakes her head, then when that doesn't immediately work, flaps her
      hand at the Fianna. "Don't get your panties in a knot. You've already 
      done it; a little more time won't kill either you -or- me. Besides which, 
      Chaney's still got to do her introduction, remember?"
Taslyn smiles just a little bit. "Thanks, Nat." As she comes back over to
      Chaney, sitting in a chair near her. "Wipe your hands off and give me 
      your intro." Tas looks very interested in what the cub has.
Chaney, alas, completely ignores Taslyn, having completely tuned out the
      human-talk in favor of smearing more paint on the paper.
"Chaney." Natalie rocks forward, reaching to nudge the cub's shoulder. "Chaney,
      shift hispo. Shift to -hispo-."
Chaney looks up with a blink at Natalie. After a beat, her eyes brighten, and
      she transforms into her 'big wolf' self -- accidentally knocking over the 
      blue paintcan in the process.
Taslyn chuckles behind a hand places in front of her face.
Natalie yelps and abandons Little Leap to rescue the paint before it can ooze
      any further. "Thank Gaia this stuff's not like house paint. And thank 
      /you/ for bringing the tarp." The last to Tas, of course. Chaney gets a, 
      "Give Taslyn your introduction, Chaney - do you remember? ~Many-Faces...~
Many Faces's ears perk, and her husky-curled tail wags. The heavy-muzzled head
      swings 'round toward Taslyn, and the cub growls out, ~Many Faces. Cub. 
      Ahroun. Those Who Walk Among Glass.~
Taslyn erupts into applause. She then shifts herself into Hispo, sliding from
      the chair, ~Defends-Her-Worth. Cliath. Half-Moon. Fianna.~ Giving the cub 
      a bow of her head. ~Nice to meet you finally.~
"She just learned that yesterday," Nat says, busily replacing the lids on all
      the paint tins but able to spare her cub a proud smile. "Right before we 
      went outside, right Chaney?"
Many Faces's ears flick backwards at the clapping, and the cub's forepaws dance
      a bit, claws scraping dangerously against the plastic tarp. Good thing 
      Natalie's replacing the paint lids. At 'outside', her tail waves 
      enthusiastically. Outside, outside!
Defends-Worth plops down on the ground and watches the cub. A slight grin comes
      over the wolven nose of Tas as she sees the exuberance of a lupus. She 
      looks to be studying the cub closely.
Natalie gives yellow a thump with the heel of one hand, then settles back onto
      her heels. "That's the last of 'em. And this is Chaney. The yes, Glass 
      Walker lupus cub. She's hell in a handbasket, isn't she? I couldn't be 
      prouder of her if she were my own kid. ...Which would be weird as hell."
Many Faces stares right back at the Fianna for a moment before her tail drops
      and she turns away and toward Natalie, butting her head against the 
      Galliard like an affectionate pony. There's a lot of force behind that 
      push.
Taslyn grins and moves back to homid, still sitting on the floor. "You should
      be proud. She's a pistol." Tas giggles some, "And a Tank."
Natalie oofs and almost falls but for the arms she manages to wrap around
      Chaney's head. "That's the truth. Cripes, Chaney, watch it, huh?" Happily 
      for the cub, those hands are now in perfect position to start scratching. 
      And rubbing. And smooshing ears. "Are you going to need a ride back to 
      the farm? How'd you get out here, anyway?"
Many Faces's tail wags back and forth as she sets about washing Natalie's face
      and neck, covering the Elder with canine kisses.
Taslyn shrugs. "I walked. On my way to the bar. Maybe try again to get
      pregnant." She rises up to her feet and scritches Chaney a little 
      herself. "You are a good cub Chaney. Real good. Proud to be your friend." 
      She laughs at the kisses.
Natalie grkles and pushes the cub away with one hand, the other coming up to
      try and defend her face. "Cripes! Gak - not in homid, Chaney... Can I 
      walk you out, Taslyn?" Her mother would be so proud: she's remembering 
      her manners under the onslaught of puppy love.
Many Faces, energetic under the full moon, takes Natalie's defenses and pushing
      as an invitation to play. Roughly. She makes a grab for Natalie's arm 
      with those big powerful jaws of hers.
Taslyn cannot help but laugh. "No... I think I can show my own way out.
      Besides... I think you have your hands full." She walks towards the door. 
      "Thanks again for the fun." She pauses for a moment to see if Nat is all 
      right. "Need some help?" She offers with a grin.
"ACHK!" is Nat's reply - which could be a yes, or a no, or a 'Gaia watch you'.
      It's all the answer Taslyn's likely to get for the moment, for as soon as 
      Chaney's teeth close on her arm, she flashes up to Crinos. ~NO!~
Many Faces flattens down immediately, ears pinning back. She stares up at the
      Galliard, panting with her lips pulled back.
Taslyn nods. "You are fine." As her hand reaches for the door and opens it,
      grinning. "Night."
Natalie doesn't rise from her crouch, nor take angry eyes from Chaney, but she
      does manage to growl out a, "Goodnight," for Taslyn. She doesn't say 
      anything else, not while the door has the possibility of being open. The 
      neighbors don't need to hear roars.
Taslyn opens the door as little as possible and slips through, closing it
      solidly behind her.

[Holds the Line in Crinos]
Just over eight feet tall, this monstrous werewolf is enough to send little
      lizard brains scuttling for the nearest small cave. She's covered in 
      shaggy beige fur from broad toothy muzzle to the tip of her functional 
      tail, darker hairs scattered here and there. Muscles Mr. Universe would 
      envy ripple under her hide whenever she moves. She would seem to be 
      equally at home on four legs as two. Pocked across her entire form are 
      places where the hair doesn't grow - none of them prominent, but there 
      are plenty of them.

Many Faces, still belly to the tarp-covered carpet, whines appeasingly at the
      angry elder and rolls onto her side, exposing some of her furry belly.
Holds-the-Line snorts, then, when the door closes, slips down to a
      still-irritated hispo. You do not lick faces when they are homid, she 
      tells the cub firmly. Or glabro. Homid for me is lupus for you - when you 
      bite it, it hurts and does not heal.
Many Faces 'grins' at Holds in the way of a submissive wolf, her ears still
      pinned back against her head. No lick, she agrees -- willing to agree 
      with anything the elder says at the moment. No lick, no bite.
Holds-the-Line studies the other for a heartbeat or two, then sits down, manner
      relaxing. Garou teeth and claws are very strong, remember? They will hurt 
      and will not heal quickly. I know you did not mean to hurt me, but you 
      are still a cub. You do not know how easy it is to hurt. Especially under 
      a full moon, when you are Ahroun.
Many Faces rights herself slowly and lies on her belly, panting. Her tongue
      licks over her nose. Why?
The larger the moon the angrier we are, Holds-the-Line explains. And the bigger
      your moon the angrier you are, no matter what. You are Ahroun. You will 
      always be angrier than Small Cat, or Remus. When the moon is big, 
      however, you will be angrier still. You may frenzy.
Many Faces licks her nose again and sniff-sniffs around the space right in
      front of her muzzle. Frenzy?
Holds-the-Line repeats the word. It can happen when you are very angry or very
      scared or even very sad. You will shift to Crinos or Hispo without 
      realizing it, and either attack what made you mad or run from what made 
      you scared. ...Did you notice that Sun-Hair has not been in the house for 
      several days?
Holds-the-Line pages to the room: Well, she's visited the house, but hasn't
      been living here.
Many Faces stops sniffing for a bit, absorbing this. Then her ears, which had
      perked forward, flatten back again and she drops her head. Bad-girl, she 
      says regretfully. Ran from water-make-shit place, fell. Very angry. Fight 
      Bends The Rules While Smiling. Toys go away. Knew bad, _knew_ bad, didn't 
      care. Very angry and I bite. Become big-big and bite.
Yes, the elder agrees. That was frenzy. She walks her paws forward until she's
      lying on the tarp and offers the cub's ear a lick. That is why Sun-Hair 
      will not return until the moon is smaller. So you will not hurt her by 
      accident. The Galliard pauses before adding, so I will not hurt her, 
      either.
Many Faces absorbs this. Garou stronger than humans. Wolves stronger than
      humans, too. Humans hurt very easy.
Very very easy. But humans are clever and have thumbs. Holds-the-Line licks the
      cub's ear again, then yawns. And there are many many more humans than 
      wolves or Garou.
Many Faces perks up her ears. Thumbs! She bulks, then loses mass and hair,
      taking human form and grabbing at the Galliard's thick neck-ruff. 
      "Nnnnn'ah!"
Holds-the-Line remains patient under the mauling, rather like a Labrador at the
      kiddie pool. That sounds very much like my name. You are getting better 
      speaking in that form. She pushes herself to her feet, careful not to 
      unbalance the other. Come - it is time for bed. Take your frog and head 
      upstairs. Do you wish a story before bed?
"Ah! Ah!" This seems to mean 'yes' judging by the enthusiasm lighting in the
      lupus' eyes. She lets go of Holds-the-Line and almost pounces on Little 
      Leap, snatching him up and hugging him to her lumpy late-adolescent 
      chest. ("I sounds like ice cream!")
Holds-the-Line slips back to homid in a smooth transition of forms, and pushes
      herself up from one knee. "Then up you go, kiddo. I'll be up in a minute, 
      soon as I've cleaned up," a gesture at the floor, "this."

[Natalie reads One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish to Chaney and puts her
to bed.]