8/3/04

Farmhouse: Hallway and Living Room
All doorways in the front part of the house lead to the front hallway, a
      J-shaped area with the short tail starting at the stairs, the front door 
      hitting the bottom curve, the doorless opening to the living room halfway 
      up the long side, and the also doorless opening to the kitchen and dining 
      room at the very top. The hall has a simple wooden floor, and decorated 
      with a generic print of soft-colored flowers hanging on the wall to the 
      right of the front door, and a tall table sitting under the print which 
      serves as a place to toss keys. A closet under the stairs serves as a 
      place to hang coats or to toss shoes.
The doorless opening to the living room is halfway up the side of the hall's J,
      and the word cozy might spring to mind when looking into is, as it seems 
      to radiate comforting vibrations. A long couch sits against the south 
      wall beneath a large bay window curtained only by sheers that manages to 
      obscure the view in but only filters the day's light. A variety of 
      out-of-date magazines are strewn atop a low coffee table; more neatly 
      presented are the plethora of books filling the small bookshelves which 
      line the eastern wall. Three chairs sit about the room, focused inward, 
      to allow group conversations. Large floor pillows are stacked in one 
      corner of the room, except one, which lies carelessly in the middle of 
      the floor, apparently left out the last time it was used.
An opening in the northern end of the hallway allows access to the kitchen and
      dining room at the back of the house, while carpeted stairs twist up at 
      the other end of the hall, leading to the second floor. A door at the 
      base of the J lets out to the front porch.

Megan raises an eyebrow, this time incredulously, but answers shortly. "No,
      that's not true. Isaac is a member of this Sept. As is Valoran, if he's 
      still around. The problem is, Jervis seems to indicate that Valoran has 
      renounced any claim of eldership, even though he is probably the only 
      suitable Sept member for the position." Her disapproval of this is subtle 
      in her tone, but the perceptive would easily pick it up.
"The names have been told to me but I have yet to see a sign of any of them."
      Which apparently greatly displeases the young theurge. Jana exhales 
      sharply. "I'd been told to find Valoran as elder of the Silver Fangs but 
      I've seen neither hide nor hair of him despite attempts to contact him." 
      Her chin raises slightly as she considers the Adren's words. "And Jervis 
      has also been ... elsewhere."
Megan's expression turns bland. "Valoran and Jervis, I can't speak for. But
      Isaac, at least, until recently, was away from the Sept on a mission I 
      sent his pack on. He only returned last week."
Jana nods slowly, her expression turning thoughtful. "Well, I offer what I can,
      within my means." That restlessness is back, in the twitch of her limbs 
      and the way her eyes keep trying to wander. Judging by her discomfort, 
      there's a hint that its not completely controllable either. "I wish to 
      help, I wish to be in a Sept that has more than one tribe but ultimately, 
      the decision is yours."
"How much?" Megan prompts, in the tone of voice indicating she means money, not
      how much she wishes to join the Sept.
Jana replies quickly. "Thirty-thousand would be reasonably easy to do quickly.
      My father can access my accounts back in Virginia and get it to me 
      quickly. If I ask for cash, he can do that too. Beyond that would take 
      more doing and be a bit more involved when it comes to handling it or 
      making it untraceable.
Megan isn't quite able to hide her reaction to the sum of money named, but does
      manage to mostly smooth it over. "Thirty-thousand would be an acceptable 
      sum. It doesn't need to be cash, but I do need to contact one of the 
      Glass Walkers about the best way to transfer it that won't draw attention 
      from the government."
Silver Fangs. Jana merely nods, looking disturbingly unconcerned with parting
      with that sum of money. "It can be done quietly and discreetly. Deposits 
      over the amount of nine thousand tend to attract the attention of the IRS 
      so we could get the money here and just have it slowly deposited over 
      time."
Megan's eyes narrow briefly, then relax once more. "What's the best way of
      getting in contact with you?"
"I have a cell phone that is on when I'm away from this area and you could
      leave a message at Falcon's Rest. Shall I start my father on making 
      arrangements on his end? I'll have to hear the inevitable 'just don't get 
      into trouble like Rush Limbaugh did' from him but still." Jana smiles 
      blandly at the other woman.
Megan doesn't appear to get the reference, the confusion apparent in her
      expression, but she nods. "It seems the best course to follow at this 
      point." She then digs into a brest pocket of her cutoff flight suit, 
      rather odd attire for someone, to pull out a mechanical pencil and a 
      small, battered spiral notebook, flipping it to a page towards the back. 
      "Someone's still living at Falcon's Rest?" she asks, immediately followed 
      by, "What's the phone numbers?"
"Alexander is there, our kin." There's a moment of silence, as if she's mulling
      this over then, "And that Aubrey is there a great deal." Her voice is 
      completely neutral as she says that. Too bad her eyes aren't. "I stay 
      there as I haven't decided what I'm doing yet." She then gives phone 
      numbers, cell first then the house.
Megan's jaw sets in anger at the mention of Aubrey being there, the same
      emotion flashing through her eyes, but she writes phone numbers down. 
      "I'll contact the Glass Walkers and get back to you about dispersal," she 
      says, flipping the notebook closed. "If you'll excuse me? I have some 
      things I need to do still this morning. It was nice to meet you."
"Of course, Megan-Rhya. I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me. I'll
      have things arranged on my end within a few days and I'll await your 
      word." Jana has a rather dark look in her eyes once the Fianna looks 
      angry.
Megan nods sharply, then makes her way back through the kitchen, where she
      lingers only long enough to grab something out of the refrigerator, 
      before continuing her journey out the back sliding door.

Big Red Barn(#3420RA)
The barn is built in the old style, a vast three level structure that is
      greater in height than a mere three stories, actually closer to five. 
      Great wooden posts support the weight of the upper levels and roof, sunk 
      into the hard-packed dirt floor of the first level like a sparse forest 
      of regularly spaced, naked trees. The stalls and flagstones which once 
      were here have been torn out to leave a rather open area where even 
      crinos Garou may roam freely without fear of running into anything but 
      the supports or the walls or the ladder at the back which allows access 
      to the other two levels.
The first two levels are relatively open to each other, the second being only
      little wider than a catwalk going around all the walls but the front one, 
      which has massive, twenty foot tall doors set into it. The third level is 
      a true second floor except for a place cut out that allowed hay to be 
      tossed down to the ground floor when the farm was actually worked. Now, 
      it is a hayloft where Garou can sleep outside of the house.

The air around the cub seethes with supressed anger, and it's not happy about
      being reined. Lucas shuts the door harder than is needed, and immediatly 
      makes his way for the bag. Somewhere later than he should, the Ahroun 
      takes note that someone else is in here and settles his eyes on Jana. Oh, 
      her again.
Jana whips around at the slam, her expression furious. But, seeing that its
      only Lucas, she relaxes. A mere fraction but still. "Lucas," she says 
      shortly. As he nears the bag, she gives him a thoughtful look. "Need to 
      work off some aggression? I can hold the bag for you."
Chaney pushes the door open and peeks her head in, blinking behind the curtain
      of tangled auburn hair. She sniffs the hay-dusty hair, then wrinkles her 
      nose and rubs it with her hand.
There is something that is striking about Jana, something that hints of a proud
      heritage. Perhaps its the way she carries herself, with perfect poise. 
      Perhaps it's the look in her eyes, one that says she knows her worth and 
      it is considerable. Her face certainly helps, what with her perfectly 
      spaced crystal blue eyes and straight nose placed above a mouth meant for 
      smiles and well-formed chin, sculpted features that hint at past glories. 
      Her shoulder length pale blonde hair seems to enhance that, going well 
      with the pale hue of her skin. Of average height at about five foot 
      three, she has a sleek figure, a hint of substance in her limbs despite 
      the fact that she looks to be in her late teens. She seems one to catch 
      the eyes with her movements and looks, that undefinable spark of 
      something -more-.
Elegant and glamourous, Jana is wearing a fashionable silk shirt, the neck cut
      so that it comes down off her shoulders. The silk is a pale icy blue, 
      unsuitable for any but the most pale of blondes. Perhaps as a conscious 
      contrast, she has a pair of very designer slim dark jeans, coming down 
      over the tops of her dark brown expensive-looking boots.
The brief flare from the Fang causes a twitch in the cub, purely reflexive,
      like he'd been pricked by a needle and was going to fling the pricker 
      against a wall. His posture reflects the moon, the frustration of the 
      dying fullness, the Rage pulling at the chain. He narrows his eyes just 
      faintly, "Nah." Is his reply, as he continues for the bag. "Don't want to 
      hit you by accident."
Jana rolls her shoulders out, eyeing the young man for a moment before nodding
      sharply. "Fine." She might have said more but Chaney's entrance causes 
      her to stare. Horrendously pink clothing with kittens on it generally 
      tends to do that. "And who might you be?" she asks of the girl, moving 
      toward her with a suspicious look on her face.
Chaney tenses under Jana's stare and for a moment glowers right back at her.
      Then her gaze shifts away, flicking toward Lucas before moving back to 
      Jana. "Shaynee."
Lucas doesn't seem like he's about to pay much attention to anyone today as he
      reaches the bag, giving it a testing shove. He watches it sway back and 
      forth, like a cat watching a mouse dangled on a string, before a fist is 
      fired out in a swift, right-handed strike against the bag.
Jana's eyes flicker toward the now sparing Lucas, watching his motion. Then her
      attention returns to Chaney, her head tilting slightly. "Shaynee?" She 
      seems slightly puzzled. "Who are you with then, Shaynee?" She tries a 
      friendlier smile.
Chaney shuffles around so that she's a little further from Lucas. "Shaynee,"
      she says again, enunciating. "Gwass Wawkas. Hwoon."
Busily beating the already bruised bag in a barely controlled way, Lucas pays
      the others no mind. He's gone off into his own little world, a glaze 
      settled over his eyes as tunnel vision sets in, focusing mindlessly onto 
      the bag.
Jana's smile becomes slightly fixed on her face, the theurge having had no
      warning about a lupus cub. "Gwass--oh! Glass Walkers?" She hazards. 
      Eyeing the young woman, she adds, "And would Hwoon but Ahroun?"
Chaney bares her teeth in a grin that almost, almost manages to look normal.
      "Hwoon!" she agrees, looking pleased with herself.
The chain that holds the bag to the rafters gives a grinding squeak as it
      swings back and forth, sounding like they're in need of some grease. 
      Again and again, the dull smacks of fists on canvas comes from Luc's way 
      in rapid-motion sets.
Jana's head leans back slightly and she frowns, turning toward Lucus. "Um. Is
      there something..." She pauses. "Do the ..." How do you ask this? 
      "Lucas!" she calls sharply. "Do the /Glass Walkers/ of all tribes have a 
      Lupus cub?" That has to be the explanation, right?
Chaney gets distracted by the sound of fists against the punching bag; she
      watches Lucas avidly.
/Wham/. One hit is louder than most, the flare of reddened annoyance tinging
      the air like an electric shock. "What?!" Lucas responds to his name 
      equally sharp, staring out from around the bag. "The hell does that 
      mean?" He asks with a sour frown. "Glass Walkers are a tribe. She's a 
      Lupus and a Glass Walker." He looks then to Chaney specifically, "I was 
      still at the mansion when they found you."
"It means," Jana says in a near growl, "that of all the tribes I expected to
      see with a lupus it wouldn't be the Glass Walkers." Nodding slightly to 
      herself, the Silver Fang turns back toward Chaney, giving her a 
      thoughtful look before pointing to her chest. "Jana." She emphasizes the 
      "Ya" part of her name. "Silver Fang. Theurge."
Chaney nods deliberately. "Yana. Yana, Yana, Yana..." She trails off as she
      looks toward Lucas again.
Lucas watches the lupus a bit longer than is really needed, saying in a bit of
      a mutter. "I'm Lucas. A cub and an Ahroun, like you." There's a hint of 
      something in his eyes, anger, jealously, it's hard to tell because he 
      looks away quickly, going back to the bag.
Jana watches Lucas even as she's nodding to Chaney. Something makes her frown
      slightly. "Well, I'm going to try a different way to talking with her." 
      And with that, she shifts down to lupus, whuffing and dancing a bit from 
      paw to paw as she does.
This lithe and powerful wolf moves with a dignity and grace that catches the
      eye. Pale silvery fur covers the length of its lean form, matching well 
      with the crystal blue eyes that stare out. There is a certain strength 
      and intelligence in this lupine form, hinting that this is more than just 
      a wild animal. It almost seems something out of legend.
Chaney's attention is distracted between Lucas and the punching bad, and Jana.
      She bounces slightly on her toes, arms spread.
It would seem, though, Lucas has become distracted from his mindless beating of
      the bag, and several of his blows slide off the canvas without doing much 
      damage, which serves to only irritate him further.
Is this easier then? Jana asks as she settles back on her haunches. I am
      Endures-Pain. Endures. Her sharp gaze rests on Chaney, ignoring the other 
      cub for the moment.
Chaney seems reluctant to match forms with the Fang despite the fact that it
      would make communication easier. "Yana," she agrees.
There's a murmur from Lucas that sounds like it contains a curse as he abandons
      the bag and goes over to settle him rump on the hay with a huffed sigh.
Endures remains alert as she watches the cubs, not bothered by Chaney's staying
      in homid. I will merely tell you about me, in case you are unable to 
      understand me otherwise. I am Silver Fang. A Cliath. A theurge. You are 
      Glass Walker, an ahroun, a lupus, yes?
Chaney jerks her head up and down in a nod. "Shaynee. Woopis. Hwoon. Gwass
      Wawkas. Yana. Siffer Fan'."
Endures nods, an odd gesture in a lupus. Your elders are doing an excellent job
      teaching you. Her ears prick up in curiousity and she eyes the young 
      Glass Walker. I should go speak with them. Is your elder here then?
Chaney's brow furrows. She waves a hand vaguely... in some random direction.
      "Naht. No. No Naht."
Endures's ears twitch a bit at that and she lifts her muzzles up in the
      direction indicated. Are you here alone then?
Chaney frowns, brow furrowing. She twists the tail of her shirt as she thinks,
      and eventually says, "No. Naht twees."
Endures ponders that word choice before nodding sharply. Went into the trees
      then. Well, when she comes out, perhaps I'll get a chance to speak with 
      her. Good. Thank you. And with that, she shift back up into homid, 
      absently smoothing at her clothing once she does.
Chaney shows off her teeth in another awkward, vaguely creepy-looking grin.
Jana eyes the young woman in a mildly alarmed manner before smiling back,
      showing a more normal looking smile to the cub. "Thank you, Shaynee."
Still seated on the hay, Lucas hunkers over like a stiffly built statue,
      watching the two as they converse. "I should talk to Natalie myself." He 
      mutters finally, distracted.
Chaney turns toward the boy and stares openly at him.
Jana finds her own bale of hay to occupy, giving Lucas a curious look. "Why's
      that?" she asks, pulling one leg up to clasp against her chest.
Lucas crosses his arms across his chest as he replies, "I need to tell her I
      have an Elder and she's not responsible for me anymore."
Chaney stares openly at Lucas some more, and when the other cub doesn't bother
      to look back at her after a few moments, she walks away, moving past him 
      to the canvas punching bag.
Frowning, Jana tilts her head. "I thought you were with the Shadow Lords?"
"I am." Lucas says, a touch of pride in his voice. "She and Joshua were the
      ones who found me. Since I was a lost cub, Natalie technically became my 
      guardian until I chose a tribe."
Chaney, meanwhile, examines the punching bag closely, running her hands along
      it. Then she steps back, closes her hands into fists, and starts 
      'sparring' with it. The lupus can't talk worth a damn, but she's been 
      shown how to stand and move and hit, and in this, at least, she shows 
      some skill.
"Ah yes, that makes much more sense." Jana offers Lucas a mild smile, watching
      him closely for a moment before letting her eyes wander toward the 
      sparring cub, a gleam of interest in her eyes. "Good to know that someone 
      was always looking out for your well-being, however."
Lucas utters an unmistakable snort of anger as soon as Jana says those last
      words and he can feel the Rage cramping in his belly. He doesn't speak, 
      or can't, as he clenches his jaws tightly shut and looks away from them 
      both, staring at the ground.
Chaney, concentrating on her punches and on doing them right, doesn't react to
      Lucas' sudden 'attack'.
"Or perhaps they didn't." Jana says that softly, releasing her leg and moving
      it down slowly. Taking a slow breath in, she gives the young man time to 
      calm down, wisely keeping her eyes on him.
Without any further provocation, the beast inside reluctantly crawls back into
      its hole, and Lucas slowly evens back out as the redness in his vision 
      fades. Still, he keeps quiet, and doesn't look up.
One-two, one-two. Chaney continues to thump at the punching bag, occasionally
      sidling along to the side.
Jana's eyes linger on Chaney once Lucas has calmed and she nods to herself.
      "Well," she finally says. "I should be going." Since he's not paying 
      attention, Lucas is the lucky recipient of a hard long look.
Lucas slowly twists his gaze off the floor and towards Jana as she announces
      her intentions on leaving. "If you see Natalie before I do, could you 
      tell her I need to talk to her?" He asks, his voice gone a bit subdued.
Chaney pauses, looking over at the two, then goes back to punching the bag,
      contentedly working up a good sweat.
"I don't know Natalie but if I meet her I'll pass the word." Jana raises an
      eyebrow slightly but refrains from asking finally. "That'll have to do."
Lucas nods his head to the Fang. "Thanks." He says, glancing briefly over to
      Chaney, and then turns his eyes on the furthest edge of the barn from 
      him, staring at nothing.
Kenneth opens up the barn door and enters with little flourish, stopping as he
      notices there are people around. Unfamiliar people, that is. He doesn't 
      call for Lucas this time, rather, choosing to stand just in front of the 
      doorway as he slides it closed.
Chaney stops punching the bag for a moment to look over at the door, staring
      over at the new arrival with an open, frank expression, her hands still 
      curled into fists from her bag-practice.
Jana's head twists at the opening of the door and she stares at the incoming
      young man. There's a hint of an arrogant challenge on the theurge's face 
      along with a flash of recognition. She heads toward the door, giving the 
      young man a tight smile.
Lucas remains seated on the hay, which he picks at with his first two fingers,
      watching it flutter to the ground.
Kenneth's eyes draw to Jana first as she approaches his spot in front of the
      door. The challenge is shortlived. With the cub's nod of recognition and 
      submission, along with a short, politely neutral "Jana-rhya", he steps 
      aside to let her go on her way. Once he does, his eyes swing to Chaney 
      and examines her from a distance.
	In his early teens, Kenneth is already tall and a somber youth. A certain
      aura, an intangible, uncomfortable atmosphere penetrates his otherwise 
      good social graces that makes him seem at first impression, 
      unapproachable. A pity really, as he is not only young, but fairly 
      attractive as well. His body has the muscle build of a tennis player or 
      swimmer, toned with athletic potential yet not intimidatingly muscled. 
      The midlength waves of his dark brown hair carry back a windswept style, 
      with forelocks sweeping forward to accentuate the long, appealing 
      features and shape of his face. To note further, his face shape, along 
      with the tint of his skin, hints at him being European or perhaps 
      Meditteranean, but also carries a very discreet golden undertone of the 
      Far Eastern countries - an interesting, if mysterious mix of bloodlines 
      not readily guessed by most. The mild curves of his eyebrows add to the 
      expression of his black eyes. While not eccentrically colored, his gaze 
      becomes highlighted with a slightly lighter grey-brown cast in stronger 
      lighting, and is often inclined downward in a quiet, though not 
      necessarily subdued, fashion.
	Kenneth dresses well in a way that looks almost like a uniform, even if it is
      casual wear. A white buttoned shirt is left partly loose at the collar, 
      coupled with a pair of fitting black slacks and oxford-like shoes. On 
      colder or windier days, he has a black, inner-lined button down blazer 
      which serves as protection from the weather.
Chaney's fists drop from the 'ready' position as the tall, sweaty girl walks
      directly over to Kenneth, going well into his personal space.
Jana hesitates for a moment, turning to watch the interaction between the cubs
      after she says simply, "Kenneth."
Lucas eventually glances up and spies Kenneth, whom his gaze settles firmly on.
      He pulls himself up off of the hay but doesn't approach, instead watching 
      Chaney closely.
Kenneth simply stands in place as Chaney approaches, his eyes rising up a touch
      to meet hers in unbroken gaze. A definite sense of restraint surrounds 
      him as the Walker cub invades his miniature forcefield.
Chaney's nostrils flare. Frowning slightly, she stares back at Kenneth. She
      huffs, moving in closer, obviously asserting herself before the other cub.
Jana should have already left at this point. But the theurge remains by the
      door, watching the interaction between the cubs with sharp eyes.
Lucas furrows his brows as he watches the silent display, coiling one hand into
      a fist and drawing in a deep breath.
Kenneth straightens, eyes not even blinking in a staredown against the
      lupe-in-homid. The Shadow Lord is still calm on the outside.
Chaney is much more tense, but apart from a couple of twitchy deepening-frowns,
      the young Ahroun doesn't look ready to frenzy. She sniffs in a couple 
      quick breaths through her nose, then lets it out in a huffing exhale that 
      gives the Shadow Lord a good whiff of peanut butter on the lupus cub's 
      breath.
Kenneth on the other hand, narrows his eyes and stares for a long moment longer
      at the cub. Finally with a frustrated growl, he has to blink, and looks 
      away. "I don't have time to waste on you," he snorts, taking a step back 
      and going around the ahroun rather than through.
Jana's chin raises slightly and she nods to herself, filing that bit of
      information away. "You need to show her your throat now, Kenneth. Anyway, 
      you three behave yourselves," she drawls in her southern accent before 
      exiting the barn.
Chaney doesn't move, letting the defeated Shadow Lord go around her. Though she
      doesn't smile, the lupus is obviously quite pleased with herself.
Lucas gives a vague growl under his throat that could easily be missed unless
      someone way paying attention to him or had good ears. He's not even 
      looking at Kenneth now, his eyes instead settled firmly on Chaney.
Kenneth jerks his head around, now glaring at the Fang's direction. A heavy
      curse nearly makes it out of him, but he bites down on his tongue hard 
      enough to draw blood and looks back towards the far end of the barn. The 
      halfmoon continues on until he's beside Lucas. Broody Shadow Lords unite.
Chaney doesn't notice Lucas or has already dismissed him from her attention for
      some reason. Let the human-born boys brood and sulk; the lupus is too 
      busy considering the punching bag some more. But, evidently, it's not 
      what she wants at the moment, so without a word she turns her back on all 
      of them and heads for the door at an easy stride.

[...]

Porch
A lathe-turned wooden railing runs the length of the porch save where the steps
      are, well-worn with use. To the right of the stairs, a wide swing is 
      suspended from the overhang which shelters this area; to the left, a 
      small table is the centerpiece for several chairs pulled around it, all 
      of which face out to the front yard and the fields and trees beyond. The 
      entire area holds an atmosphere of peace and comfort during these summer 
      days, lending itself well to evening reading, small talk, or just 
      watching the stars. Low shrubs snuggle up to the porch held back by the 
      railing, their flowers filling the air with the sweet scent of greenery.
An aging screen door newly refurbished stands between the heavy inner door of
      the house and the outside air. Four steps lead down to the lane, a number 
      of pots with small flower seedling carefully arranged alongside them.

Natalie pages: So... Nat's truck was gone for about an hour. Maybe a little
      less.

Nat's green truck rumbles slowly down the lane, gravel crunching beneath the
      wheels. It stops, and the Galliard gets out, squinting first up at the 
      sky, then around the front yard as she heads up to the porch.
Chaney sits on the porch swing, swinging gently in her pink t-shirt and shorts,
      still rather sweaty from exercising with the punching bag in the barn and 
      running around in the barnyard and fields.
Natalie stops on the top step, one hand on the pillar beside the steps. "There
      you are." She's as distracted now as she was earlier, something the 
      wolfborn might not catch. "Have a good day?"
Chaney stops swinging and leaps to her feet. "Naht!" Oh, look, someone's happy
      to see you, Nat.
Natalie says "Hey, kiddo. You ready to head back home?"
Chaney grins in that wide, toothy, vaguely unsettling way of hers. "Hohm, hohm,
      hohm." All gleeful energy, she bounces down the steps.
Natalie, unlike Marcus, does not stick out her foot to trip the exuberant one.
      That's because Nat's not a bastard. She merely turns to follow the girl. 
      "You think you can sit on your excitement until we get back? Or do you 
      need to tell me everything you did now?"
The latter, apparantly. "Bu'shin' pad!" the cub tells the Galliard excitedly.
      "Siffer Fan'. Yana."
Natalie cocks her head, but even her amazing powers of Galliardness aren't up
      to translation. "...Let's head into the barn," she decides, swerving that 
      way. "You can shift and then I won't have to guess."
Chaney wrinkles her nose and stops. She points at the truck. "Shaynee home?"
      Gosh, that almost sounded normal.
Natalie pulls up and looks back at her. Then the barn past the house. "...All
      right." Cub amnesty, to let Chaney get away with so much. "We'll go home. 
      And -then- you shift and tell me all about it. You don't get to pick the 
      CD, though."
"Tuck tuck tuck!" chatters Chaney happily, bouncing (literally, almost) to the
      passenger side.

[...]

Harbor Park -- Fountain
Situated in the center of a large, open meadow is a clustering of six trees, a
      flower bed, a few steel-and-wood benches set firmly into concrete, and a 
      flagstone courtyard that is dominated by a large fountain.
The fountain is a wide circular pool of water some fifty feet across and about
      five feet deep in most places. The sculpture in the center is a mix of 
      old and new, traditional and modern: eight concrete-and-stainless-steel 
      slabs about six feet high are set in a rough Stonehenge-like circle 
      around the center of the fountain. Water flows from their tops, cascading 
      in bright mesmerizing sheets to the pool below. Rising above the steel 
      circle is a large marble statue of the Water Bearer, an androgynous 
      figure draped in robes of flowing water. It bears a large jug carved with 
      various Greek symbols, from which pours a seething torrent of water into 
      the pool at its feet.
Cars on the nearby street have an excellent view of the park as do any
      residents of the tall buildings which line the waterfront.
The murky waters of the Columbia River flow swiftly along the east side of the
      park. Bracketing the park to the west is First Street and the city of St. 
      Claire. Recent construction work is creating an earthen berm several feet 
      high all along the borders of the park in all directions.

The Galliard grabbed both of the cubs after supper with the words, "Field
      trip." Out to her truck - and a squished ride it was, too, in the cab of 
      her small pickup - and off to the other side of town. On the way she 
      talked briefly about 'The Umbra' and how it was the other side of 
      reality. She stressed being careful and not doing this sort of thing - 
      the Umbra thing - in front of witnesses. In the time left, she ran a 
      tag-team 'Who Knows the Litany' quiz. At the park she got out and headed 
      for the fountain at a brisk, not slowing for anything walk.
Chaney squirms excitedly in her seat all the way. Her version of the Litany
      quiz goes poorly, though, what with her toddler grasp of English.
Saul keeps looking about the whole way, and even though the quiz is probably
      over he keeps up his reciting of the Litany in a low voice, "...and 
      number six is 'The first share of the kill for the greatest in station. 
      Which, if applied to us means that if I order a pizza, you and Marcus get 
      dibs on the first or best slices. Or if we killed someone and we found a 
      nice revolver or sniper rifle, if you or Marcus wanted it, you'd get it." 
      He shrugs as he continues following.
Natalie shoots the homid cub a wry grin over her shoulder. "And also number
      eight, so at least you have a chance to choose what toppings." She ducks 
      through the sextet of trees and stops at the fountain's edge. Gesturing 
      the others to join her, one on either side, she stares down at the water. 
      "The only way to enter the Umbra is in a reflective surface. Water, a 
      mirror... whatever. Because to enter it is to look -past- reality, and 
      place yourself in it."
Chaney watches Natalie's face mostly as the elder speaks, though she glances
      several times at the water, too. Her head cocks, brow furrowing. It's her 
      'thinking' expression.
Saul frowns and stares at the water, "Past reality? There is nothing past
      reality..." He pauses in thought for a second and amends, "Well, maybe us 
      I suppose. We're something out of nightmares. Not that I'd mind a 
      swimming lesson, Nat, but I though he were here to see this 'Umbra' 
      thingy."
Natalie's too tense - and tired-looking - to give a more usual grin at the boy;
      tonight it's a raising of eyebrows instead. "Haven't you been listening, 
      Saul? The Umbra is as much reality as this world is. It's just... more. 
      Most people can't see it. Can't taste it, can't touch it. It's a world of 
      spirits and shadows and horrors and joy." She nods him toward the 
      fountain. "Look at the water, both of you. Look into it, and -past- it."
Chaney drags her gaze from the Galliard to the water. Edging forward, she leans
      over and peers at her wavery reflection. The lupus blinks a bit, cocks 
      her head to one side and then the other. Then she leans forward a little 
      bit more and then, abruptly, vanishes.
Chaney drags her gaze from the Galliard to the water. Edging forward, she leans
      over and peers at her wavery reflection. The lupus blinks a bit, cocks 
      her head to one side and then the other. Then she leans forward a little 
      bit more and then, abruptly, vanishes.
Saul leans over in the same fashion and stares down into the water,
      "Beyond..beyond..." He crouches down looking at it closer, "Look past 
      it..." He abruptly stands up and frowns, "I see pond scum!" He announces.
Natalie glances over sharply at where Chaney's disappeared; a muttered curse
      and she's back to her recalcitrant homid cub. "Not through the -water-. 
      Through your gaze." She stops, even taking a step backward, and visibly 
      calms herself. "Don't try too hard. Relax. Don't force anything, all 
      right? Meet your eyes in the water, and then look... -into- them. Through 
      them. Into the Umbra."
Saul doesn't seem surprised that Chaney'd disappeared. Weirder things've
      happened lately. He simply looks over to where she was and then sighs. 
      Closing his eyes and then opening them, he looks down into the water and 
      catches his reflection. His eyes catching sight of his reflection's eyes, 
      "Look thro-..." And he's gone.

Umbra: Harbor Park
The Umbral ground beneath your feet here is lush with vegetation, an oasis of
      life amidst the concrete and webbing of the scab. Trees stand proud and 
      tall here, their branches full of leaves. Shrubs line the outer edges of 
      the park, tangled with encroaching webs. The fountain stands out boldly 
      from even the surrounding area, the sleek lines sharper and more 
      pronounced. Clean pure water roars and cascades from the figure in the 
      fountain's center, falling into a cold clear pool that looks quite 
      inviting. Spreading out from the fountain, the rest of the park is a 
      green veldt that seems to radiate life and strength. The river banks the 
      east shore of the park, bridged by a massive rusty bridge. On this shore, 
      the glade seems to have spread out on to it, vines winding around the 
      supports. Further across the river, the bridge melds into the scab again, 
      flaked with rust and covered in webs. The river itself is clean within a 
      few feet of the shore, but black ooze seems to encroach menacingly from 
      the murk of the rest of the river.
A walkway leads out of the Glade-like atmosphere of the park from just north of
      the fountain. Eastward, the dark span of the bridge stretches over the 
      vile river. Dark streets lead west and southwest into the blighted Umbra 
      of the city.

Chaney is, of course, already there on the other side, gleefully running around
      the lush area, chasing Lunes.
Chaney's left alone in the glade for nearly two minutes before the others
      appear - first Saul, and then Natalie. The Galliard's attention immediate 
      goes to her 'missing' lupus, relaxing when she spots the girl. "Chaney. 
      Leave the lunes alone and come over, please." She settles down on the 
      edge of the fountain.
Chaney knows 'come', of course, and reluctantly leaves off playing chase to jog
      back over to the others.
Saul is still taking this in. He doesn't move an inch. He doesn't even breath.
      Slowly but surely he straighens up a bit more and tries and experimental 
      breath and ventures a glance about. His only words for the moment are: 
      "Whoa..."
That -does- bring a faint smile to Nat's lips. "Welcome to the Real. Or,
      rather, the More-Real-Than-You-Knew. This, boys and girls, is the Umbra." 
      A lune comes fluttering over near her face and she bats it away with an 
      absent hand. "First lesson of the Umbra: you never come here in the 
      daytime. Ever." She points, by way of explanation, toward the massive 
      face of Luna hanging above. It's much larger here than on the other side, 
      and makes the area as bright as day.
Chaney tilts her head back, following Nat's pointing finger up to the moon. Her
      eyes go wide. "Moooooon," she intones, impressed.
Saul continues the logic, "Therefore if the moon is down here, it's as dark as
      night." He nods as he sits down on the ground, "A'right. But if that's 
      your only reservation against coming here during the day, why don't you 
      just bring a flashlight or something. Road flare. Something."
"For one thing, only things that have been Dedicated can be brought across the
      Gauntlet. Dedicating things that are that... technologically complex is 
      difficult, to say the least." Nat stretches her legs out before her and 
      considers the moon as well. "For another, at night most of the Banes that 
      live in the Umbra are off whispering into the ears of sleeping mortals. 
      During the day they've got nothing better to do than loll around waiting 
      for stupid Garou to cross over. Add into that the fact that it's blacker 
      than pitch here and you've got no chance in hell of seeing them come..."
Chaney squats down next to Natalie. She's listening, mostly, but her attention
      keeps getting snagged by the flittering spirits, or the way Luna's light 
      shines on the grass, on the falling water of the fountain.
Saul thinks this over and then looks up at Natalie, "And Banes are bad, huh?
      Something like ghosts or demons that go around during the day? Weird... 
      Really weird." He shrugs, "Okay. Check. Tell me more. What's with the 
      little things floating around here?"
"Those are lunes," Nat answers. "Jagglings of Luna. As you can see," she ducks
      one that's zipping past her head. "They're rather wound up during the 
      full moon. Like us, but in a different fashion. Banes are spirits that 
      have fallen to the Wyrm. They come in all shapes and sizes, all of them 
      nasty. But this is one of those times I'm gonna drag you away from the 
      digression, Saul. I want to talk about the Umbra. Why do you think," she 
      aims the question at Chaney as well, "we crossed the Gauntlet -here-, 
      instead of back at the mansion?" She points back to the City and the 
      profusion of webs as a clue.
"Man-swin," chirps Chaney, reaching up to try to grab one of the swooping
      moon-jagglings.
Saul hazards a guess even though he wasn't asked, "Because we couldn't see the
      moon all that well from the mansion? Because we can't enter the Umbra in 
      doors? Because the city is now infested with banes?" Okay, well, a couple 
      guesses then.
Natalie shakes her head at all of the guesses, even the 'guess' from Chaney.
      "None of the above. The Gauntlet's thinner here - you see what the place 
      is like. It's more... more real, more -alive-, lusher than its 
      counterpart in the Realm. That's because this place is what we call a 
      glen. It's not as powerful as a Caern, but it's a place where Gaia is 
      strong. The city, now..." The Galliard shifts her weight on the rim of 
      the fountain. "The City is overrun by the Weaver - see the webs? - and 
      the Wyrm. That's why it's so dark and disgusting. There are places within 
      the City - /like/ uptown, near the mansion - where it's not as bad."
Natalie adds to the bouncy girl, "Chaney, if you want to shift so you can ask
      questions, go ahead. It's safe here."
Chaney wriggles her butt against the grass and remains in homid. The expression
      on the lupus' face is blissful; it's even odds as to whether she's paying 
      close attention to Natalie's words.
Saul nods slightly and shrugs, "So has anyone tried to actually live in the
      Umbra full time? Bet they sure would know a lot about the Umbra, huh? 
      What would it be like to live in the Umbra? Does everything that's in 
      reality appear here? Can we see other people. Does it hurt to go through 
      someone?"
Chaney snaps her eyes back to Natalie. She has the courtesy to look contrite.

Chaney is a tall girl, near six feet tall and, it seems, all arms and legs; she
      looks like a shoe-in for the high school girls' basketball team. She's 
      pale-skinned, liberally freckled, and sports a thick mass of dark auburn 
      hair that doesn't appear to have seen a brush or a pair of scissors in 
      years. Behind that tangle lurk wide, often confused blue eyes and 
      attractively youthful features -- straight nose, high cheekbones, a 
      narrow chin and full lips. At a guess, she's in her late teens.
She's currently dressed in a big pink t-shirt with a doe-eyed kitten on the
      front and a pair of baggy pink sweatpants with a white stripe down the 
      outside of each leg. The sweatpants have been hacked off at the knees to 
      turn them into shorts, which bares coltish legs lightly dusted in reddish 
      hair. Her feet are bare.

"Shift lupus," Nat orders at a growl before turning irritably back to Saul.
      "You sure you're not a Galliard? No, you can't live full-time in the 
      Umbra. Remember what I said about daytime? There -are- Realms you can 
      visit - I'll get to them later - where you can spend time and not have to 
      worry as much about..." Fingers flick toward the moon. Also, we're 
      creatures of balance. Wolf and human, spirit and flesh. Spend too much 
      time in anything - homid, lupus, Realmside, Umbral - and you'll start to 
      get out of balance."
Chaney, chastised, reverts to breed form and lies down with her head on her
      forepaws and her ears perked. But her head doesn't stay down long; the 
      Umbral scents are too strong and strange and attractive. Her head lifts 
      again, nose working visibly.
Getting out of balance, Nat's tone suggests, is far more dire than it sounds. "As
      for your other questions. Things have to have a, a /presence/ to show up 
      in the umbra." She thumps the edge of the fountain again. "The fountain 
      is here, the benches are not. Cars don't. People - humans - don't. Trees, 
      buildings, things that are rooted and not ephemeral, they do. It's 
      possible to see through the Gauntlet, but since people aren't -here-, you 
      can't walk through them. You see?"
Saul think on this and for once, he doesn't seem like he has anything to ask.
      Atleast for the moment. He folds his arms across his chest and shrugs.
Natalie nods again toward the webbed buildings of the City. "The Umbra and the
      Realm are reflections of each other. What you see -here- is just a 
      physical representation of what's over -there-. That's why we tend to the 
      cities. Clean up the grafitti, the slums, wipe out the crime, and the 
      Wyrm's influence here would be lessened. Same goes for the flipside: 
      cleanse a building in the Umbra - a housing project, for instance - and 
      you decrease the number of random murders, abuse, and crime there." She 
      waves at another lune and eyes Chaney. "Well? Any questions from you? If 
      not, we'll head back."
Many Faces flops over onto her side. I like it here. It smells _good_.
Natalie points out, "That's not a question." But she stands anyway, dusting off
      her hands. "All right, we'll head back. Chaney, you need to shift to 
      homid again. Saul, this time you go first. Peek back through the gauntlet 
      to make sure no one is around, then step through." She looks to the 
      water's surface first, double-checking that the area is clear."
Many Faces straightens up and shifts back to human form with alacrity. While
      Saul does his thing, the lupus looks around the glen some more, watching 
      the spirits with fascination.
Saul stands and dusts himself off, "A'right...I think I'm getting the hang of
      this." He does indeed peek back through and announces, "Coast's clear." 
      Before he pops out.
Natalie lets out a breath she may not have realized she was holding. "Chaney,
      you next. You stay next to Saul, you hear me? Wait for me." And a 
      handwave toward the fountain.
Chaney nods slowly. She peeks through, then vanishes even more quickly than
      before.
You start to reach through the umbra.
Chaney's eyes stop contemplatively on her reflection.
A ripple of Umbral wind swirls about you, and the Gauntlet parts.

Harbor Park -- Fountain
Situated in the center of a large, open meadow is a clustering of six trees, a
      flower bed, a few steel-and-wood benches set firmly into concrete, and a 
      flagstone courtyard that is dominated by a large fountain.
The fountain is a wide circular pool of water some fifty feet across and about
      five feet deep in most places. The sculpture in the center is a mix of 
      old and new, traditional and modern: eight concrete-and-stainless-steel 
      slabs about six feet high are set in a rough Stonehenge-like circle 
      around the center of the fountain. Water flows from their tops, cascading 
      in bright mesmerizing sheets to the pool below. Rising above the steel 
      circle is a large marble statue of the Water Bearer, an androgynous 
      figure draped in robes of flowing water. It bears a large jug carved with 
      various Greek symbols, from which pours a seething torrent of water into 
      the pool at its feet.
Cars on the nearby street have an excellent view of the park as do any
      residents of the tall buildings which line the waterfront.
The murky waters of the Columbia River flow swiftly along the east side of the
      park. Bracketing the park to the west is First Street and the city of St. 
      Claire. Recent construction work is creating an earthen berm several feet 
      high all along the borders of the park in all directions.

Natalie is the last one through - again - her hands smoothing her hair as she
      steps through. "Well, there you have it. Let's head back to the truck." A 
      nod toward the shape of her pickup at the edge of the park and she heads 
      that way.
Chaney is waiting by Saul just as Natalie told her to, but at the Galliard's
      appearance she jogs up alongside her, chattering, "Tuck, tuck, tuck."
Saul just stands where he'd popped out and gives the pair of them a weird look
      before he trails hastily after them, "Chaney, there's an 'R' in truck. 
      T-rrrr-uck." He sighs, "You'd better learn how to pronounce things if 
      you're going to stay homid all the time."
Natalie glances over her shoulder at the pair of them - Chaney first, then
      Saul. "She's only been capable of English for two months," is her mild 
      comment. Otherwise, she's going to stay out of it.
Chaney ignores the boycub entirely and climbs into the cab to be next to Nat.
      "Tuck. Shaynee tuck."
Saul stops at Natalie's explanation and then climbs into the cab, taking the
      window seat, "Two months? Well, I guess it's not bad then." He turns to 
      Chaney after he buckles up, "I apologize then for correcting you. You're 
      doing very well for two months."
Natalie doesn't bother to hide a faint grin as she goes around the front of the
      truck to the driver's side. "Halfway through." Grin slips away entirely 
      as she considers the windshield, then shakes herself and starts the 
      engine.
"Haffay twoo," echoes Chaney, mimicking the Galliard.
Saul absent-mindedly flinches at the butcher's English and leans his head
      against the frame of the door, "I think I need to download an English 
      Flash tutorial, ASAP..." He says to the open air.