Place: Big Red Barn(#3420RA).

Weather: Currently in Saint Claire, it is clear outside. The temperature is 25 degrees Fahrenheit (-3 degrees Celsius). The wind is calm today. The barometric pressure reading is 30.17 and rising, and the relative humidity is 92 percent. The dewpoint is 23 degrees Fahrenheit (-5 degrees Celsius.)>/p>

Time: It is currently 11:44 Pacific Time on Wed Feb 23 2005

Moon: Currently the moon is in the waxing Full Moon phase (98% full).

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.

A few after Kevin has limped from the barn, the sound of someone jogging comes from outside. The footsteps slow, and then KL steps into the large building. "Hello?" she says, breathing heavily. Her once-white running outfit is matted with sweat and dirt, and her hair is plastered to her scalp, cheeks red with recent exertion. She puts one hand up against a timber, and leans over, gulping air.


At a little over five foot tall and with a slim build, KL is hardly awe-inspiring on first sight. She appears to be around seventeen years old and still carries a teenager's air of disenchantment and irritation. 
Her mid-length mousy-brown hair is brushed back out of her eyes and behind her ears. It's not exactly styled, as it appears to have been hacked at without any hint of hairdressing expertise, but it's at least had contact with a brush at some point recently. She would be quite attractive - in particular she has a very cute, upturned, nose - were it not for the sullen and aggressive set of her mouth and the hostility of her gaze. Her hazelnut eyes look out with disappointment and poorly hidden anger, as if the world were a holiday villa that didn't match the travel agent's description. Her skin is oddly pale, and on her right shoulder-blade a two-inch-square tattoo of a winged horse visible. Physically, she's well proportioned, and her bare arms show a tight musculature that speaks of regular exercise.
She's got a habit of slouching and of leaning up against any available support. When she forgets to slouch, however, she moves with a surprising degree of grace and compact poise. 
She is wearing a white T-Shirt which has a dirty brown mark across the middle, a pair of white cycling shorts, white sports socks and a pair of white trainers which have seen better days. There's a large bandage wrapped around her right calf. 


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 deep-set 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 looks back from her place near the heavy bag, her eyes lighting up when she spots the Fury. "Hey KL. How goes? Ya looking for the bag?" She gives it a quick kick and then backs off, "Where ya been?"

KL grins and then, having recovered her breath somewhat, says "Staying out of trouble." She waves an arm in an airy upwards gesture. "Time of the month and all that. I saw Kevin as I was running up. Looked like he'd been having some exercise. You, I take it?" She straightens up and walks over towards the punch-bag, her eyes narrowing as she looks at it.

Emma laughs, "Nope, not me this time. Brom. New Get in town. One of those hardcore traditional fuckers." She says this all with good nature, and a definite show of pride. "Kevin is still trying to find his path. The Get have tested him, and are willing- I think, and don't you tell him this, but the kid needs to make a damn decision. Soon."

Settling herself into a stance about one metre from the bag, one foot in front of the other. She breathes in deeply, then rocks her weight backward and kicks out with no back lift, landing a firm kick onto it's side, denting the fabric with a large "whoosh" noise. At the same time, she lets out a "HAI!" of exertion. The bag swings away and then back. KL returns to her stance, hands in front of her. "Yeah, no shit. Indecision central. I mean, I can understand that it's an important decision, but does he have to whine about it so much?"

Emma chuckles, "That's sorta our look at it. Good potential, I mean he's not a tool at all, but he does whine." She comes up behind the bag, silently offering to hold it in place while the other works on it. "I whined a lot as a cub though. Until Signe got me. I hated being cooped up here."

KL nods slowly, and steps to punching range. "I destroyed an outbuilding when I was a cub. I got pissed at being kept in, not allowed to do things, in a building that had no electricity or running water, and rather than go off at the person who was looking after me, I knocked seven shades of shit out of a small woodshed." She takes another deep breath, and starts to punch the bag, quickly dropping in to an easy rhythm. "Thing...was..." she says between punches, " damn...thing...again."

Emma laughs at that, "Nice. I just got into scraps. Mostly with the boy cubs. Sometimes with a cliath. I hated it here, but as the saying goes, grass is always greener, once Signe came to fetch me, I had a royal hissy fit about being taken away." She laughs. "I guess I do whine a lot. Gotta get rid of that."

KL keeps punching for a few moments more, then stops, once more breathing deeply. "I still whine, bitch, swear, curse and lose my temper. There's no point in being a fucking pussy." She grins, and folds her arms across her chest. "So, do you think he'll join you?" She lifts a hand to brush a strand of wet hair that had fallen over her right eye back behind her ear.

Emma lifts a shoulder to the question. "The Walkers are working on him too, dunno. Depends what he wants to do. He seems interested in really kicking ass. As a rotogar, he'd have more opportunities to ass kick, than if he were in the Walkers. Least that's my opinion." She stills the bag, "You don't get bitched at for bitching? Brom and the others always tell me it's not my place to whine. I'm a Get. A Modi. Rarr." She rolls her eyes, "It's like they're saying I can't even have an opinion, without it being whining in their book. Dunno how to make 'em happy."

KL's expression hardens, and she drops her arms and paces up and down a bit. "Yeah, I get chewed out. Or I did, when I had someone to do the chewing." She stops and taps her foot on the floor. "And then sometimes I'd lose my temper, and get slapped down. Then I'd shut up. Couple of times, I did some slapping and then I could bitch for a bit. Not many times though." A wry grin crosses her face. "Brom in HAVOC?"

Emma laughs, "God, ya sound like me. Brom wants me to stop whining, and just throw down. So I did. Got my ass whooped. The guy is like a foot taller than me." She shakes her head to the last question, "Nah, he is /just/ fresh into town. Hasn't even run into Signe yet. I dunno if she'll scope him out for Havoc or not. What about you?" she grins widely at this. "You ever gonna get off your butt and join up?"

"Well..." KL says. "Helen apparently is 'really busy', and therefore can't even be fucked to send me a note. I've been racking my brains to try and remember what the reason we're supposed not to like you is, and I've decided it's just historical crap." She grins. "And I like you. So, yeah, if you guys'll have me." This all comes out very quickly, and KL is looking at the floor, rubbing the fingers of her right hand together nervously.

Emma brightens visibly at this. "Fuck yah. Course, the downside is it's not my decision, but like I said, we had two Furies in our pack before, and I think you'd be just fine. We just gotta get you to meet up with Signe. I'll," she pauses, then grins, "wait till the moon starts thinning. She's pregnant now, and another set of strong claws would be really helpful once she has to keep to homid."

"What, you think it would be a bad idea if I met your alpha with Luna fat above us and my temper at..." KL holds her finger and thumb up a millimetre apart, "...about that kind of level?" Her nervousness has dissipated, and her eyes are bright. "It would be cool to meet her to actually talk to her, rather than just like wave in passing."

Emma nods. "She has a lot on her mind lately. The veil breech, the hospital plan, her challenge, the sprog, as she calls it, that she's growing, looking at Kevin to check his Getliness. I don't think I ever wanna be Jarl." She give the bag a bit of an elbow. "So you are all checked in here and stuff, you got chiminage?"

"Is 'getliness' a word?" KL asks. "Checked in?" She looks worried at this, biting her bottom lip. "I like...told someone I was around. I don't think they were _greatly_ happy with me."

Emma ohs at this, eyes narrowed, "And yah Getliness is a word. It's like, ... cleanliness, but not so much. Well, Helen knows, or Megan?"

"Helen knows I'm around. Megan knows I exist. It's her that I think I pissed off." KL admits, looking ashamed. "Was only trying not to break the litany and stuff. I should warn you that I piss people off quite a lot."

Emma grins with a shrug, "I've pissed Megan off at least twice. Got sneered at for interrupting her the other night, bringing Brom to the farmhouse. I guess I need better Garou etiquette lessons. I feel sometimes, like I can't win either way. Do you barge past the folks on the porch without telling them who the stranger is? Or do you say hey this is a Get. No worries? If I didn't say who it was, I woulda gotten bitched at for bringing some no name to the safehouse."

"Sounds like a no-win situation." KL says, with a shrug of her shoulders. "In the end, there's only so much they can do to you, and people who get pissy over minor things..." Somehow, the hypocrisy of this statement evades her. "Yeah. I must try and meet up with her. Um...the chiminage thing. What's usually acceptable? I've got some money and stuff, but not a lot."

Emma shakes her head, "Nah, I dunno. Brom brought a fetish, a Harley and his offer to teach. I dunno, what are ya good at? Course, you rited here didn't ya? Maybe that means you're already a member."

"Nope. I rited in Denver." KL shakes her head. "I was just getting around to sorting stuff out when...last time happened. I mean, I can teach shit. Well, some shit, anyway. And I'm kind of useful in a general way. For a point-and-click Ahroun, that is." She kicks at the floor disconsolately.

Emma thinks it over, "Well, you're strong. Maybe they've got some labor that needs to be done. I dunno really what kinda stuff Megan would be looking for. You know any rites?"

KL shakes her head. "Nope." She looks up at the bag and flicks a viscious kick at it. Had it been a person, it would probably have broken a leg. As it's a bag, it doesn't. "I'm as fucking useless as bloody Kevin."

Emma frowns, "Don't say that. I don't know any rites either. Why don't you offer your strength. For whatever they need it for. Offer to run messages back and forth into the city. I dunno."

KL laughs at this. "I think I've done that run about twenty times over the last couple of months. It's kind of fun, but a fucking long way." She catches the bag and lets it stay still. " What's the best way to go about this. Meet Signe to talk to her, then get on to trying to see Megan? Or the other way around?"

Emma thinks a bit. "I think maybe Megan first. If you're having such a hard time finding Helen, then just go straight to the top and work out your presence here with Megan. You could probably mention that you are seeking a pack, and have something in mind. That'll show her you're sincere in rooting down."

"Yeah. At least then I can get the 'invading the territory of another' thing out of the way. And hopefully chiminage and stuff. So, more hanging around the farmhouse looking hopeful?" KL says. "I seem to recall being told that was the best place to meet her?"

Emma nods, "Totally. Leave a note on the fridge, let her know when you'll be here, or if you can be found on the bawn or whatever." She pauses then, grinning, "Speaking of. Ya game for a run or something? Rabbit chase? Tag? I got energy to burn, especially after watching Brom and Kevin have all the fun in here."

"Do you think you're quick enough?" KL says, smiling. "I should point out that I have only the vaguest idea where bawn and caern are." She waves a hand in a random direction. "Over there somewhere."

Emma grins, "Then it's time you get to know for sure." Without waiting for the other, the vest is dropped from her shoulders, and her shoes are slipped off to be left behind her in a swirl of hay. Emma is racing out of the barn door, yet in homid, and towards the fields and the forests that lie behind.

KL lets an loud epithet of surprise out, and races after Emma, not bothering with taking off clothing at all, going from standing to full sprint in an effort to get near the Get.

Bawn: Central Forest(#2876RA)

The forest is dark and quiet. No, not quiet. Listening. The ancient firs rear up all around, branches interwoven in a dense roof of dark green. Fallen needles lie in a thick carpet on the ground, heaped up around the drifts of undergrowth clinging to the scarce patches of light reaching the forest floor. Every sound seems muffled, and the sharp scent of pine hangs in the air like the clouds of midges that swarm ceaselessly beneath the branches. Even the many deer who roam here seem to step more quietly than usual, and the songbirds seldom sing.
The forest spreads out around you in all directions.

Once the Get is out of the clear and into the woods, she shifts through her forms while in mid run. She slows and stutters as each one clears into the next form, finally landing in a dark grey lupus. Her tail bobs in the air behind her like a banner taunting the enemy.

Some distance behind, KL takes a shifty look around as she runs, then has to react late to a tree that wasn't quite where she expected it to be. She growls, in annoyance as she drops further behind, and keeps growling as she shifts into her lupus form - a midnight-black wolf. The growl becomes a snarl as she puts her ears back and concentrates on where she's going...and who she's aiming for.


A medium-sized she-wolf with a midnight black pelt streaked lightly with silver on her belly. In this form, Escapes-From-Money's athleticism is more obvious, and she moves with a combination of speed and compact power. She has a few scars across her back, one of which seems to have healed poorly, leaving a bare patch of skin. There is an air of dissatisfaction and irritability about her.

Stone-Spirit (Emma) darts through the woods, bobbing in and out of some of the paths that have been worn by insistent paws. She lets out another series of yip-barks, urging the other to 'get her'.
Escapes is at a serious disadvantage, on unfamiliar territory, her quarry with a lead, and already tired from previous exercise. Still, if raw guts and determination count, she's in the clear. She answers the challenge with a bark of warning to her prey, that she'd better run fast. Her tail flicks out, moving from side to side as she changes direction, her head still and her eyes bright with the exultation of the chase.

Stone-Spirit does not slow in her pace, though changes to the bawn from the last time she ran it at this pace are double the risk. A freshly fallen tree limb poses a quick change of direction, and as she leaps to avoid its far reaching branches, she finds herself rump-sliding down towards the creek. With a splash of slushwater and mud, the wolf gets back on her feet and pauses to shake her fur out. A pause that may just be her undoing as the Fury closes in on her.

The tree-limb is less of an obstacle to Escapes, who hurdles it easily. The freshly-polished mud-slide, however, is far more of an issue. With a skittering of paws on slick mud, and a yelp of surprise, the Fury descends towards the creek in a huddle. Catch the Get she may, but in no decent order and with no control. In fact, she's in severe danger of plowing into the other wolf at some pace.

The grey wolf startles just as the Fury is about to connect. No amount of mad scrambling can give Stone-Spirit enough purchase in the mud to escape the collision. With a sloosh-thud the two wolves make contact, and it reignites the Get. With a bunching of her hind legs, she leaps up and forward with her front paws, landing them on the other wolf in attempt to wrestle wolf style. A nip falls dangerously close to the others ear, but falls short as hind legs slip in the mud.

Escapes, who is now more "mud-brown" than "midnight-black", barks with laughter and writhes away from the Get, twisting to get out from under her paws and establish some kind of more dominant position. Slick with mud and rapidly tearing up what solid ground there was - before the two large wolves arrived, the whole thing is perhaps a little farcical.

Stone-Spirit skitters back only long enough to see if she too can find some better traction. Then she is lunging forward again, the two wolves paw slapping and mud flinging as they go about it. At one point Stone-Spirit completely over-compensates her twist and slips, sliding directly under the Fury as if fate itself had grabbed her and made her prone before the other. Back soaked with mud, her paws flail up to try and keep the other from getting her pinned!

An opportunity! Sensing victory, Escapes springs forward, ready to claim her prize. She's too eager... Far too eager. The ground betrays her again, and her victorious leap ends up with her barely moving forward, and her pounce catches only the tail of the Get. She growls with frustration and aims a nip at any body part that isn't moving quickly enough.

That puts both of them flopped down into the mud now, and still nipping and scrambling to 'get the other'. Just as Escapes catches Stone-Spirits hind paw, the Get catches the others tail. Suddenly held in a stalemate, both grasping each other in a nip. It is then, the faint scent of a hare wafts through them.

Escapes releases the leg and lifts her muzzle to the air, ears pricking up. She growls quietly, a long, hungry growl, and carefully stands up out of the mud, lifting her paws, entirely ignoring the grip on her tail.

It takes a second longer for Stone-Spirit to catch the scent, but then she too drops the wrestling match and sidles herself into a standing position. Her nose quivers at the scent and her tongue comes out to lash at her muzzle. Her eyes fall on the Fury, her ears flicking back in gesture for her to lead this chase.

Nose down, tail up, the Fury is suddenly all business. Her head turns from side to side, searching for a direction, and she starts to pace over to one side of the creek. Her ears flick back, and she gestures for the other wolf to circle around the other side of a clump of bushes that are about twenty yards downstream from them. At the same time, she climbs the bank with only a small amount of slippage from her back legs.

Stone-Spirit moves quickly and quietly, nose searching out the scents in the direction she was guided to. Her own body moves with an anxious tension, her eyes following the other wolf to maintain visual communication. The scent grows stronger as Escapes comes up the bank, hinting that perhaps the rabbit had come to the water only to discover at the last moment it was inhabited by a predator.

Dark brown mud is an even better camouflage than black fur, and Escapes is only just visible as she prowls toward where the rabbit is. As the scent grows stronger, she stops, and checks that Stone-Spirit is in place. She hunkers down, then moves slowly forward. The rabbit's head pokes up out of the foliage behind which it had been, to this point, hidden. It sniffs the air nervously. At that point, Escapes leaps towards it, jaws snapping shut a bare fraction behind it, her teeth closing around air. The rabbit bolts away, down to the creek where the Get waits.

The rabbit makes its move and so too does the Get. Stone-Spirit bounds forward, dashing at the creature from a slightly angled approach. She gets up beside it and her massive jaws, (well massive to a rabbit anyway) snap out and catch it just by the last quarter of its hind legs. It squeals horribly and thrashes, paws flailing every which way.

Escapes bounds down the bank to where wolf and rabbit wait. She pauses for a fraction of a second, twists her head and brings her jaws down around its neck, snapping it and putting it out of its misery. The rabbit falls limp in Stone-Spirit's jaws. The Fury keeps a hold, and gestures for the Get to leave it.

Stone-Spirit gives a snarl as her own hold on the rabbit is kept firm. Her hackles puff out a bit and her tail twitches in a clear challenge. She does not intend to let the rabbit go.

Escapes doesn't respond to the challenge, well at least not in a usual hackle-raising, hyper-aggressive way. Her ears flatten back against her head, and she lets a low growl with a pleading note escape from around the rabbit. She doesn't let go, however.

The two seem to be locked into debate over who gets first shot at the rabbit. When the Fury doesn't let go, or respond to the show of dominance from the Get, Stone-Spirit growls more fiercely and gives the rabbit a harsh, firm yank in her direction.

Escapes moves _with_ the rabbit, still not letting Stone-Spirit have it, but not pulling at it either. Her eyes widen, and ears flick in a gesture that seems to be pleading mixed with a desire to be trusted. Her tail is low to the ground. Meanwhile, blood drips into the creek from the broken body of the rabbit.

The signals confuse Stone-Spirit, and with the moon as fat as it is, she is very hesitant to let the other take hold of it. After a very firm growl, and eyes steeled on the Fury, her jaws relax and the rabbit slips from her maw. Her posture is tense, and a very clear statement of her readiness to take this further if necessary.

Escapes backs very slowly up onto the bank and out of the stream, eyes fixed on the Get. When she's back on something resembling solid ground, she sits down and shifts her jaws around the rabbit, before biting down hard, severing the rabbit's body roughly in half. Then she lets both pieces drop to the floor, and backs off, head and tail still down.

Stone-Spirit keeps at a snarl this whole time, and when the rabbit is taken into the others maw, she quite nearly lunges. Once all is done though, she steps up and grabs at one of the halves, lips peeled up in silence. Her body lands solidly down where she stands, paws used to manipulate the rabbit half as she tears into it.

Escapes approaches slowly and carefully, before grabbing the other half of the rabbit and biting into it hungrily, dark red blood running in rivulets across her teeth and across her lips. She settles down with her meal some five feet from where Stone-Spirit sits, her eyes still locked on the other wolf.

The two Ahrouns feast in silence, the only sound the snapping of tissue and bone from their meal. There is a tension in the air, and questions unanswered. But for now they eat together in relative peace.

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