Time: It is currently 16:04 Pacific Time on Wed Nov 9 2005.

Moon Phase: Currently the moon is in the waxing Half Moon phase (54% full).

Place: Bawn: Northern Forest

Bawn: Northern Forest

Dark and forboding woods stretch in all directions but the north, the trees close together as if they were soldiers closing ranks against the enemy of Man. The trees here are tall, and close off all light from above, like they were pillars in some vast cathedral to Nature. Songbirds flit between the branches and the snuffling of small animals comes from the brush if one listens close enough. The busy interstate highway to the north, though, drowns out most of the subtler sounds in that direction.
The northern edge of the bawn is marked here by the unavoidable length of Interstate 90. Near it, the sounds of traffic drown out the more natural sounds of water and wildlife. In all other directions, the traffic noise recedes into the background.

If there were any late-afternoon sun, it'd be slanting aginst the tall and dour-looking trees in this part of the forest, trying to prize its way past the arboreal wall, but its hidden behind clouds, this area of the forest is both dark and quiet. Hands in her pockets, Leslie walks along, composed and thoughtful, seemingly reveling in the solitude, making no effort to be especially quiet nor especially loud.

Coming in almost the opposite direction, and making even less of an attempt at being quiet runs a brunette girl in her late teens. Her sneakered feet spray dirt in various directions as she avoids trees with agility. She's so intent on not crashing into a tree that she doesn't see Leslie until almost barrelling into her. She skids to a halt with an exclamation of "Woah! Fuck!" and stares at the other woman in surprise.

Maybe Leslie was off in her own little world, but she dives to the ground as she's nearly flattened by a brunette human bullet, rolling to her feet again after a couple of turns over. "Easy, there." She doesn't seem particularly angry or perturbed, just shrugs. "Are you all right?"

"Of course I'm alright." The brown-haired girl retorts. "Who are you?" . She folds her arms over her chest and takes a confrontational step towards Leslie. Her brow creases into a frown and the surprised stare hardens into one of hostility. Leslie's expression closes at this display of open hostility, but she doesn't return it in kind, instead drawing herself up and lifting her chin in the manner of one facing a judge. "My answer depends on whether you live around here," she answers carefully, looking the smaller girl up and down; her voice is a raspy contralto with more than a hint of a New England lilt to it.

A couple of blinks. Obviously, this is a more complicated question than it first appears. "Used to live over there. Sort of semi-homeless now." KL replies, waving an arm in a vague south-westerly direction, her eyes never leaving her target. "Do you know that this is private property?"

Oddly enough, Leslie's expression clears at this question, and she nods understanding, although the chin remains up and proud; in the lines of her face and body, for just a moment, is written the breeding of heroes, but she drops her chin a moment later, and it is gone. "Yes, actually I do, and I had to ask someone else that the other day. Does this mean anything to you?" she asks cautiously, showing you a steel ring on the second finger of her right hand. Carved in relief across the band are winged horses chasing one another across it.

KL's eyes focus on the ring for a second, though there's a sense that she's very wary, nervous of it being some kind of trick. Her stare eases, and she raises an eyebrow. "Yeah, actually. It does." She turns around slowly - head moving so that she doesn't stop watching - and pulls at the neck of her T-shirt, shifting it down to reveal the pegasus tattoo over her shoulderblade. "So, question again. Who are you?" This time, though, it's much lighter and more friendly.

Leslie's expression clears further, and she nods. "That answers that," she replies. "Leslie Menetzke-Watson, Cliath and half-moon of the sisterhood, recently come from upstate New York." The lines of tension in her face and body ease as she speaks, and though she watches you carefully still for your reaction to her words, she offers a hand in greeting. KL turns back to face Leslie, and cracks a grin. She shoves her hand out and grips the proffered one. "Heya. I'm KL Cole, Cliath Ahroun of the sisterhood, originally from the Sept of the Eternal Circle in Denver, packed under Wolverine as part of HAVOC." She drops the hand. "Pleased to run into you!" She grunts a laugh at her own (weak) joke. "How long you been here? Have you met Helen? Anji? Touch Deer? Do you know about the house?" She chainguns questions with much the same energy that she was putting in to being objectionable earlier.

"Almost literally. Leslie's reaction is a warm and easy chuckle. "I'll give you the formal introduction later, but I wasn't one hundred percent sure yet. And yes, I've been here for about a month and a half, met all of the above, volunteered as Truthcatcher, am busy chasing humans off the bawn, and yes I know about the house but can't help, at least not directly. Money's not my area of expertise." She replies in kind, a warm and wide smile creasing her features. "We should catch up later in more detail, but I should track down a few of the Galliards and see if they can tell me who I ned to talk to."


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