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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 biting cold of winter is tempered somewhat by the sheltering of the roof, but it is still enough to make the porch an inhospitable place to tarry for long. Even the low shrubs seem to avoid it, their leafless woody stems closed in tight upon themselves.

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.

Contents:
Joshua

Obvious exits:
Front Door Lane

There's an unfamiliar pickup in the lane, dark green and small. Up on the porch sits a stranger as well, smack in the middle of the swing. The swing creaks gently as she rocks back and forth, her eyes focused on nothing in particular off in the middle distance.

The stench of the Ahroun isn't a pleasant one. A air of oil and filth hang about the Glass Walker as he makes his way around the farmhouse, mud squashing under boot as he goes. The youth stops as he comes into view of the truck, tilting his head as he looks at the unfamiliar vehicle. Shrugging, Joshua leans against the porch's railing, ignoring or unaware of the stranger behind him.

Joshua, it should be noted, appears to have been in another fight. The youth is cut and bruised in all over his frame, the wounds not yet half healed.

Joshua is wiry, in his teens', stands at 5' 9", and is by no means a towering giant. His frame is much better worked than the average person, a layer of built muscle visible under his skin from obsessive training, but he lacks almost any fat, looking lean from months of slim eating. His skin seems stretched over his frame, pale, and of clear northern European descent. His face is cold and lined, with no real defining features: dull brown eyes, thin lips, a smaller nose, and a few freckles still clinging on after most of them faded away. His head is covered in short stubble, dirty red colored hair only beginning to grow back. The youth has a near constant disheveled, almost feral quality about him in spite of how clean he keeps himself. Bruises and cuts are scattered across his frame; one could deduce that he gets in more than his fair share of scrapes. Currently, Joshua is wearing a black t-shirt tucked into a clean pair of blue jeans. Looped through the jeans is a simple brown belt, off of which hangs currently nothing. His feet are clad in a pair of muddy hiking boots, the pair broken in from overuse. Not particularly attractive, he stands out only in the blandest sort of way.

Natalie sniffs once, twice, her nose wrinkling, before her attention returns to the here and now and... the stinky boy at the railing. "What happened to you?" she demands, not unkindly but brusquely all the same.

Joshua jerks slightly at the voice, spinning around on the ball of his foot to face the unfamiliar individual. The Ahroun clears his throat once as he takes a step back. "Apologies, Ma'am. Didn't know you where there..." He offers, hands up in a non-aggression gesture. "Just a little scuffle, s'all."

Natalie says, "I'd imagine there's a shower inside," with a jerk of her head toward the farmhouse. "Who are you, anyway?"

"Joshua Doyle. I'm a... cousin of the family." He introduces curtly, still sizing up the other as he stops backpedaling. "You family, or just passing through?"

Natalie answers curtly, "Both," only to immediately add a disclaimer. "...Maybe. Who are you related to? I'm doing some work for Jack Salem in town."

Joshua says "Ah. Uncle Salem." The youth casually toes the soft dirt beneath him, still looking back up at Natalie. "Yeah, he's blood relation. That and Mis Rina and I, if you know her, she's kind of Kin as well. Not as close as Uncle Salem, though."

A corner of Nat's mouth quirks up. "Then we're family too. Natalie Baker. Just arrived in town, so I think anything more... detailed will have to wait until we're somewhere more discreet. You must be either Cat or Josh."

Joshua arches a brow. "Yeah, 'm Joshua." There seems to be lacking some conviction behind that statement, as if he doesn't believe it himself. "Cat lives back at the stone hive with Salem and the rest. He's never out here, where as I'm stuck out in the woods."

Eyebrows raised, Nat studies the boy for a handful of heartbeats. "...Ah," is what she finally says. "What about... Katrine, I think her name is? Have you met her?"

Joshua clears his throat, head tilting up to look at the top story as he replies. "Oh, she's around here. Real quiet, real sulky, and hard to get a hold of. I think she's still in the 'poor old me' phase..."

Natalie says, "Jeremy suggested I talk to her. That said," she drops him a nod, "Why haven't you taken a shower? Don't tell me we don't have one of those either?"

"Because one, I have patrols in the woods to do that I just got off of, and two, this is the kind of junk that doesn't exactly wash off. It'll fade off, but there is no rushing the process. If you know what I mean..." The ahroun shrugs, running a hand idly over his bald head. "But they do have one... I think. I don't actually know, since, as I said, I don't stay here."

Natalie inhales tentatively, then snorts as if to drive all memory of the stench away. "What is it? Smells like you got beat up at your local Midas."

Joshua shrugs, looking around. "As ya said 'yerself: it's something that can't exactly be talked about on a porch, eh?"

Nat spreads her hands. "Then lay on, Macduff. I got a quick - very quick - tour of the place yesterday, but I don't know where a good spot is." Quite clearly she expects the cub to know, and to lead her there.

"Where you want to go, and more importantly, do you have permission from Megan to be at any of the interesting places yet?" Josh asks simply, slipping his hands into his pockets.

Natalie's eyes narrow; she looks up and past the cub to ostensibly study the pickup. "I see this is going badly." Another few moments pass before she looks again at the cub, her jaw set. "Somewhere where you /can/ discuss why you smell like a car vomited on you, and I don't know, in that order. I met her yesterday. Salem took me to a few places, but then he had an appointment to get to so we went back to town. Take that as you will."

Joshua doesn't roll his eyes flicking from the porch to the far woods for a bare moment. "Ah hell, why not? I'll take the fall if need be: it's been too long since I've gotten in trouble anyhow." He jerks his head off to the woods, indicating she should follow. "I guess I can show you some of the nicer places..." He starts, pacing off and around the house.

"Too kind," Nat drawls, pushing herself off the swing and following.

[Travel deleted]

Around the Lone Boulder

The sparse forest gives way here into a vast clearing, entirely devoid of trees or heavy underbrush for great distances all around. Low, thick grass, a palish green in color, grows everywhere underfoot; it sways ever so gently in the chill winds that seem to settle in across this open expanse with unusual frequency. The occasional darker shoot or dandelion weed makes its way up amidst the rest, but the hilly territory is on the whole a uniform color, reminiscent of a moor. Adding to the image is the single, ponderous old stone, a grey-brown in color, settled uncannily in the dead center of the expanse as if it has perched there alone since the dawn of time. Grass grows up around the weathered boulder, but its vaguely-flattened top clears the grass by a good many feet, at least chest-high to a good-sized man. The sky, often grey, is a presence in this sudden openness, appearing from amidst the treetops to arc high over the grass and stone.

Woodland tracks lead off into the forest to the north and south, while the boulder itself stands at the center of the clearing.

Contents:

Joshua

Obvious exits:

Forest Boulder

Joshua shifts down to Lupus once he's inside the the woods a proper distance. In the form it can be seen all that much clearer the result of his stay out in the woods: his coat is matted red from blood and brown from mud, tinged in a few places with light green splotches which emanate the smell. He doesn't talk much, his attitude and posture much more submissive in lupus than he was in homid. He remains slow as he leads the elder off and to a clearing. Wolf-Heart trots forward into it a distance, before turning back around and announcing that this was the clearing of the lone boulder, a place for ritual and punishment, as well as a safe place to teach, talk and spar.

Joshua contorts and blurs as he is transformed.

Natalie doesn't shift at all, instead picking up speed to follow Joshua at a jog. Once they reach the boulder she slows and stops, arms swinging out wide. "Shift up," she orders, her attention only half on the cub. "Salem mentioned this place, but only pointed it out. Huh."

Joshua does as is asked, shifting as far as Glabro before he stops. He quickly rolls his neck once, before tucking his chin in tight against his neck in a lupine like gesture of submission. "Proper introduction..." He rumbles, most to himself... ~I am The one who Keeps the Human Mind with the Heart of the Wolf, full moon Cub of the Walkers upon Glass.~

Natalie frowns at him, her arms dropping to her sides. "You're supposed to show your throat, not hide it. Natalie Baker, called Holds-the-Line. Homid, Galliard, Cliath. When'd you first?"

Joshua blinks, looking throughly confused. ~Two moons ago.~ He hesitates before adding, ~I was not surrendering, Hold-The-Line-Rhya... although I will if you wish.~

"Why aren't you in homid?" Natalie asks instead, her fists balling against the slight breeze.

~Because I need to heal.~ The ahroun explains carefully, not budging from his position. ~Last night, after the gathering for the dead, a tainted weaver spirit manifested itself while I was on patrol of the Bawn. We fought it back to the shadow, but not before it cut and battered us. That is what the smell is, the 'blood' of the manifestation that I got on myself during the battle.~

"Who's 'we'? Yeah, Salem mentioned a Gathering, but since..." She waves off her explanation with an impatient hand. "Doesn't matter."

No question, so the cub doesn't answer, remaining silent and deadly still. He's getting good at that, impersonating a statue.

At the silence Nat's head drops, but her eyes remain fastened on Josh's face. "I asked you a question," she says slowly, carefully enunciating each syllable.

~Apologies, Rhya.~ He replies far too mechanically. Josh flinches a little, biting the corner of his lip "It was me, Three-Blades-Rhya and Lures-The-Beast-Rhya of those on guardian duty. Two of the Gryphus pack, Faerie-Blood-Rhya and Fat-Ripper-Rhya also assisted."

Natalie's chin lifts fractionally. "You're lucky," the cub's informed. "Lucky that the moon isn't fatter, and that I like this shirt. Who are the others? Not cubs, not the last two..."

Joshua purses his lips, trying to tuck his head in tighter and blushing slightly in shame. "I was the only cub, Rhya. However, Faerie-Blood-Rhya is a Half moon of the Fianna and Fat-Ripper-Rhya is a Crescent moon of the Bone Gnawers."

"Head goes up," Nat snaps. "How else do you think you show throat? Am I just supposed to expect you have one? Don't tell me you've been a cub two months and no one's told you about showing throat?"

Joshua, in a reflexive gesture, crouches down and throws his head back exposing his throat as ordered. He remains still, eyes clenched tightly shut as he waits nervously.

Natalie doesn't come over and kill him; hooray! Instead she snorts and moves off. When Josh opens his eyes again he'll see her a few feet away, her arms folded and back to him. "Lots of Fianna here," she mentions casually, trying to change the subject to something a bit less... touchy. "How many, do you know?"

Joshua remains rock solid, slowly straightening out his neck but now making eye contact with her boots. He answers quietly, not quite up to conversational levels but audible none the less. ~No, Rhya. I do not know how many Fianna blooded there are here. They, for the most part, stay out of the Caern and the Bawn... so I wouldn't run into them much.~

Natalie continues to look at that tree over there. And that other tree. They're so... branchy. Still keeping her voice deliberately light she ventures, "I thought Salem said you were staying out here until you Rited?"

Joshua nods minutely. ~Yes Rhya. He does not let me leave the Bawn territory, but that includes the farmhouse. It will stay like this until I rite soon.~

Natalie offers, "Call me Natalie, please. Natalie-rhya if you must. Why's that? I was surprised to hear one of our cubs was left out... here, actually."

Joshua remains silent for a bare moment before carefully responding to the question. Each word is evenly spaced, as if he is carefully considering how much he should say: "I had some problems who's resolution would have been much easier outside the ~stone hive~, so at Defiant-Storm-Rhya's suggestion I was moved out here. Before then I was kept under lock and key for trying to break out. Why Scar-Rhya keeps me out here even after the problem is resolved is known only to Scar-Rhya, however."

While Joshua stands near six and a half feet tall, he carries himself with a slouch to match his almost Neanderthal like form. No longer wiry, he appears to be built like a log. Red hair covers his muscular arms, but where a swath would be on his head has been reduced to a patch of stubble, only beginning to grow back. His face is nothing short of brutish, with an angled forehead that seems more apt to Fred Flinstone, thick cheeks, and a squared jaw. The only thing that doesn't fit are his ears, which are slightly pointed. He wears a simple black t-shirt and pair of jeans, feet clad in a pair of hiking boots that are broken in from overuse. His wide sloping features might make one mistake him for feral, but under his pronounced brow peer two brown eyes with unmistakable intelligence.

Natalie glances over her shoulder toward the Ahroun, then away. "Hmnh. Well, I've heard you're supposed to Rite soon. Will you be Riting with Cat, do you think? Have you heard anything about it?"

Joshua nods, even though the gesture is wasted on the turned back. "When Scar-Rhya decided not to cull he announced I would rite by the end of the month. I shall rite with Cat, and A Get of Fenris Ahroun named ~Fire-Dancer~." A touch of nervousness edges his voice as he reports this, especially when he notes the date.

"Ten days," Nat points out cheerfully. "Who's this... Fire-Dancer when she's at home?"

Joshua blinks, brow forming ditches and furrows. "Uh... excuse me? I don't understand the question, Natalie-Rhya. What do you mean 'when she is home?'"

Natalie attempts to clarify. "What's her real name? What does she tell Domino's when she's ordering pizza?"

"That... is her real name." He answers, the confusion creeping into her voice. "Oh. Oh! I'm sorry, Natalie-Rhya... you mean her human name. It's Emma. But she doesn't order Domino's... she lives out at the Farmhouse, 'n there's no phone there."

"So I've been told," Natalie says drily. "I..." She's interrupted by the ringing of a cellphone. A quick look at the display and, "Damn. There's no signal out here. I gotta get back into town." She turns enough to drop Josh a distracted nod. "Nice meeting you, Joshua. Good luck on your Rite if I don't see you before then." Then she's heading back toward the edge of the woods.

[End of log]