It is currently 19:11 Pacific Time on Mon Jan 30 2006. Currently the moon is in the waxing New Moon phase (10% full). Currently in Saint Claire, it is partially cloudy. The temperature is 44 degrees Fahrenheit (6 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the southwest at 10 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.96 and rising, and the relative humidity is 82 percent. The dewpoint is 39 degrees Fahrenheit (3 degrees Celsius.) Safehouse: Common Area(#2947RAJ) The foyer of this house is set off from the living room with its octagonal bump-out by a four foot high halfwall. Stairs lead up from the foyer, turning and disappearing to the right, and a wooden door with a keycard lock claims the wall opposite the living room. The rest of the main floor is taken up by a small bathroom across the hallway from a dining room which is separated from the kitchen at the back of the house by another half-wall. The decor is decidedly sparse - white walls, beige carpeting in the living and dining rooms and down the hall, unremarkable vinyl in the foyer and kitchen. A used couch and a pair of recliners are grouped around a coffee table in the living room, with a foursome of wooden chairs claiming the bump out for quieter conversation. The dining room boasts a white laminate table with four aluminum and vinyl-upholstered chairs - too new to be 'vintage', too old to be trendy. The appliances and cupboards in the kitchen are new - or at least refurbished to look like it - and a door leads out to the backyard from there. Up the stairs are a number of empty rooms where anyone affiliated with the Sept can crash and an office for private meetings. The Glass Walkers have their own area accessible via a locked door off the foyer. The main doors themselves lead back out to the front porch of the house. Grey, making one of his rare visits to the house that his tribe calls home, prowls about the common-side kitchen area, opening cabinets and taking stock of supplies. The metallic buzz of the Walker's doorbell begins to ring. Outside stands Emma, wearing an old worn leather coat and a Red Sox hat. Grey looks up alertly at the buzzer and goes to answer it. He arches an eyebrow at the young Get of Fenris before greeting her with a courteous enough, "Good evening. Looking for Kevin?" He steps aside to let her in. 5'2" of youthful energy packed up into a body all too willing to use it. Emma would be described as pretty if she were cleaned up and dressed the role, but all too often the scrapping tomboy paints herself with bruises instead of blush. Somewhere in her mid-teens, her features are strong but decidedly feminine. High cheekbones and full lips work well to compliment her almost button nose and deepset eyes, while dark, ash blonde hair frames her face. While not straight, it is not curly either, and untied it reaches down past her shoulders. Her eyes are a cool blue, reminiscent of a bright summer day - but like the weather they seem to hold an amount of unpredictability. There is a hardness to her gaze, and while her smiles can be warm and sincere, they are well guarded. Her posture is an odd mix of insecurity and confidence -or at least what might be confused as confidence. She seems surefooted and comfortable with herself, but exudes a certain edginess to those she might see as a source of ridicule. Emma does something that is a little uncommon for the Fenrir and removes the cap, brushing her fingers through her hair. "No, actually, I was hoping to find you- or at least find out where I could find you. Do you have a moment?" Grey's brow furrows a bit at this, his expression bemused. "I do, actually. Have a seat." Closing the door behind her, he nods toward the living room sitting area. Emma gives a faint nod, offering up a slight smirk-tinged grin. There is a clear suggestion of nervousness about the Ahroun, but she does well to stifle this. "Thanks." In she steps, choosing to remain standing though the sitting area is offered. She cuts right to the chase with a quick clearing of her throat, "I've stepped up to take alphaship of Havoc, I need a strong philodox for the pack. Someone that can fight, but has experience mediating a bunch of hotheads as well." Grey remains standing as well, hands folding into the pockets of his jeans. Both eyebrows go aloft at the news of the girl's new position, and the implied invitation makes him squint a little at her, head cocked to favor his good eye. "And you're asking /me/?" Emma holds her posture and nods briefly. "I'm young and eager, and tired of hiding under the shadow of the other Get. The pack has been listless since Signe left - and I do not want to see such potential slip down the drains, so I stepped up. I need a strong pack behind me, and I need people with experience for that. You're a bad ass, and your an honest, if opinionated, judge." The grizzled Philodox folds his arms across his chest, mouth pursed in thought. "Mmn. Wolverine, yes?" It's not really a question, and he doesn't wait for an answer. "What do the others think of packing with a charach?" Blunt as usual. "The others are so caught up in their own challenge of eachothers honor and respect, I hardly think it sunk into their heads that I was claiming leadership of Havoc." Here Emma deflates slightly, "I believe KL will stick around, she's content fighting with me and under Wolverine. Gunnar- I'm not sure if he has decided on staying or not. The pack is barely holding together as is, and I need more people dedicated to it." Grey rubs his bearded chin, eyes narrowed in thought. "Mm." He hesitates, and then says, quite seriously, "Allow me to think about it. Do you have my cellphone number?" Emma shakes her head on the cell phone question, "No, I figured you could be found here. Been a while since I stopped by." Grey grunts. "You're not the only one. I don't live here." Unfolding his arms, he crosses over toward where his coat's hanging up and rummages in the pockets for a notepad and pen. "Too much rage in too small a living space." Emma nods her head, "Yeah, I know how that can get. And it's cool about thinking on it, I just-" she huffs out, "Despite anything that may have been exchanged between us in the past, -you would be a strong and welcome addition. But, take your time thinking about it, I've a lot to pull together these next few days too." Grey finds what's he's looking for as Emma speaks, and pauses to look over at her consideringly. He nods once, then scribbles down a telephone number. "Call me in a few days," he says, tearing off the page and crossing back over to offer it to her. Emma takes the paper and nods, "Will do." The paper is glanced at and then tucked into her coat pocket. An awkward moment passes as the short Fenrir stands there, then gives another resolute nod. "Alright, I'll talk to you later then." Grey inclines his head, then sees her out toward the door. "Be seeing you, Emma." And, just before she leaves, he notes, "I think Signe would have been proud of you." That brings a genuine smile to the Ahroun, and a single nod that might be read more as gratitude than acknowledgement. Slipping the cap back onto her head, she makes her way out the door, exhaling a deep breath once it's shut behind her.