Currently the moon is in the waxing Full Moon phase (84% full).

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.

Kevin clenches his fists in impotent anger, whether at himself or at Emma who knows? "And I said I know I did a bloody stupid thing and I'm trying to apologise. If I need to do something, tell me. Even it it's to leave you alone till you've worked your anger at me out." Before he can add more this tense tete-a-tete is interrupted by the arrival of a third party...

Emma glares at the cub. "Fine. Apology accepted. Now just give me a week to get over it." She slams a fist into the bag again, face drawn down into a scowl. "There's another lesson for you to learn while you're at it. Ahrouns aren't the quick to forgive- quick to forget type." Thud, thud, kick.

Kevin emits a long and more than slightly theatrical sigh. "Fine. What's another week when I've already spent a dozen of them in this hole? I'll leave you to pound the punchbag. If you want to come and pound me instead, you know where to find me, because, oh would you believe it, I'm going to be at the farmhouse for a while." He thrusts his hands so hard into the pockets of his sweatpants he nearly makes the over-sized garment fall down, and turns to stride for the door.

They say timing is everything, and the appearance of another person in the doorway only proves the axiom. The big heavy barn door rolls protestingly open, silhouetting a stocky form made even larger by the addition of a bulky jacket. "Woah mule," the voice of the Walker's Galliard calls out, flinging up her hands to prevent the weedy lost cub's escape. "Watch where you're going, Sparky."

Emma is just barking back her last reply when Natalie enters, "You sure seemed like you had it figured out last week with Gunnar, unless you're just pulling a joke about that too." She pauses though to look at Natalie, giving a faint nod and a grunt before wreaking havoc once more on the bag. "Hi Natalie." The tone and posture indicate a particularly lovely mood for the Get.

Kevin bristles. "Mule?" he snarls. "That's not a nice word to call me." His normal politeness to those of higher station seems to have deserted the English cub today. Maybe it's the moon, or maybe not. He comes to a halt and looks back at Emma. "You may choose to believe I was joking with Gunnar, or not. As a matter of fact, I was not."

Natalie bares her teeth, willingly joining into the full-moon's tension. "Deal with it," she snaps at him before peering into the murky barn to try and identify the other occupant. "--Emma? What the hell are you doing out here? I thought you and Signe were patrolling this morning." If Kevin wants to try and make his escape, he'll have to push past her.

Emma takes one last thud at the bag. "Didn't trust myself in the city this moon. Dillen's pissing me off plus Mitch upstairs and a pregnant Signe added up to get the hell out. Seems things aren't going to be much calmer out here." She peers back to Kevin then, "If that's the truth, fuckin' act like it."

Natalie snorts at her packmate and adds a companionable sort of head-jerk before turning a cool gaze back to Kevin. "Well if your panties aren't too much in a wad, I was going to see if you wanted to go into town. --I've claimed Elder again," she adds in a cross between belligerent and off-handedness, glancing back to Emma.

Kevin wheels to one side instead of heading for the door. "It may have escaped your attention that I came out here to take my medicine rather than skulking in the house," he points out, as he throws himself against one of the supporting pillars where he slouches, one arm wrapped round it for support. He still looks like a typical teenager, but instead of the polite, slightly nerdy, well-mannered sort, this Kevin looks like the sort who'd steal your bag and spit in your eye for a joke.

Emma gives the cub a look. "I see." Her gaze returns to Natalie then and she takes a deep breath, stilling her fists, "Well congratulations Nat. That's good news for all us city Garou." While the tone is tense, it can be assumed it's not directed towards Natalie, but instead a remnant of whatever was going on between Get and cub. "I'll be here Kevin, why don't you go check out the city while you have the opportunity."

Natalie's teeth flash again in a snarl when Kevin doesn't leap on her offer with glad cries of glee. "Guess he'd rather whine about here." She abandons her spot at the door to completely ignore the cub and head toward Emma at the bag.

Kevin turns to Natalie. "Emma-rhya and I had some unfinished business. If she is content to let it stand over for now," he enunciates in precise, formal tones, "you can take me away from all this. Maybe if I get to see the city lights even briefly I won't go radio rental from being stuck here for so long." The English cub overlooks the low probability that the Americans present will understand the rhyming slang in his reply, radio rental = mental = crazy.

Emma just gives a grunt to the cub. Her attention shifts from bag to Natalie as as her pack mate draws closer, "Some fat moons are just fatter than others."

Natalie continues to ignore Kevin, perhaps out of perversity, perhaps because she didn't catch his words. Instead she half-smirks, half-snarls at the Ahroun. "Tell me about it. So are you going to hide out here for the next few days, or are you going to crash at the safehouse?"

Kevin walks deliberately over to the door and leans on the wall beside it, kicking it rhythmically and annoyingly. Waiting.

Emma lets out a sigh, "I shouldn't skimp out on my patrols just because things are tense. Right?" She runs a hand over her face, rubbing it tiredly. "The cub faked a suicide attempt. That's what I walked into the farmhouse with this morning. Left a note saying he'd run away, and he was all bloodied up in the attic when I flung the door open. I'm a little peeved."

Natalie ignores the first question to home in, missile-like, on the second. "He did what?" She flings an irritated scowl over her shoulder, but Kevin's used the opportunity to slip out of the barn. "What the hell?"

Emma gives a nod. "Ragabash or not, that was in poor taste." She takes a step back from the bag and lands herself on the nearest hay bale. "The kid has potential, I really think he does. I never expected that outta him."

Natalie snorts again and takes Emma's spot in bag-pummeling, lashing out at the heavy canvas with brutal kicks. "He's a cub. He's a stupid cub. He needs a tribe. If he'd just make up his damn mind..." Her foot lashes out in a triple tattoo of blows that would break a person's kneecap. "What the hell is he doing out here, prancing about and moaning? Flash would've smacked his head around."

Emma gives a nod. "He's been acting like he wants to be Get, then he pulls that. Olga says I should lay off, because he's a Ragabash. I don't want a Ragabash that pulls dumb shit like that." She watches intently as the other lays into the bag, grinning a little. "I think he was hoping I'd knock him around a bit more out here, but not now. Not while I'm still so pissed."

"You could kill him," Nat agrees somberly, shifting her weight onto her back leg to launch a slow-motion belly-strike at the bag. "I could kill him. There's a reason I don't spar with anyone under this moon, and his name is Vex." Kick completed, she holds the pose and her form for another second, then slips back into 'real time' to bounce on her feet, fists balled as she glares at the bag. "So if he's not all gung-ho about being Get, maybe he shouldn't be one."

Emma shrugs a little, "He's too damned hard to read. He talks shit about the other Tribes," and here she quickly interjects, "And I didn't teach him that, I swear it. So he makes it sound off like he's all for the Get. I've never met a Rotogar before, so I've no clue if he acts like one or not."

Natalie bares her teeth at Emma again, then shifts her weight, placing the Get at her back and freeing up her other leg to repeat the flurry of kicks. "Get talk shit about the other tribes, huh? Good to hear. Guess all that crap about how honorable they are is just that."

Emma tightens her lips, "No. That's not what I said. I said he talks shit, and that I didn't teach him that. The fact he talks shit about the other Tribes and not Get is what lead to the comment he seems like he is for choosing Get. Fuck, I dunno if I'd even want him now." She lets out a loud huff, akin to someone in disbelief. "The truth of it is, all Gunnar and I have done is continuously tell him how hard being Get is, and how there is nothing soft about it and how everyone else thinks we are brutal hardcore warriors, and that it's true."

Natalie kicks off the bag's 'head', then follows up with a solid thock to the middle. "Come on, Emma. He's a kid. A boy. Of course he'd think that's great."

Emma sighs, "Well he don't wanna be a Gnawer, or Fianna, or Fang or Shadow Lord. So have at 'em. See if he takes to you guys more. Not like I care one way or another, except to say that I hope someone gets him soon because I think it's dumb how cubs get left here to rot until this Tribe stuff is sorted out." Her hand comes up over her face again, as if it could wipe the rage out of her eyes. "I hate boys."

Nat says, "Not wanting to be a Gnawer or a Shadow Lord just proves he's salvageable," as she bounces back to both feet, fists bunched at her sides as though about to launch another attack on the bag. "Not to mention that it screws over the city tribes. Sorry, but I don't have the time to come out here every day and try and woo some snot-nosed lost cub. Whoever finds them ought to be able to have them for a month, see if they fit in before just tossing them out like a used condom."

Emma was nodding along with everything the Galliard had to say, up until the condom part. She grimaces at this and gives a faint nod. "Uh yah. Who found him again anyway? Oh Scratch. Hey, where's he been lately? Not that I miss him or nothing. Old bastard."

Two punches set the bag rocking, then Nat steps forward to grab it and halt the swing. "--What? What was that about Scratch?"

Emma shrugs her shoulders, "Thought you and Sig were looking at him to join Havoc. Haven't heard you guys talk about him lately, and haven't seen him either. Just wondering what was up?"

Natalie snorts derisively and pounds the bag almost companionably. "No. No, he's not joining Havoc. He's unreliable. Signe still wants Gunnar, though. And I've got to get Saul trotted through his Rite of Passage this week too."

"Don't think I've met Saul, who's he?" She stands up then and moves to stand behind the bag, grabbing it and stilling it for the other. As an afterthought, Emma adds in, "There's KL too, she'd be good. But she floats around a lot."

The Galliard's snarl is almost an off-handed thing; she backs up once Emma's approached and starts taking out her aggression on the bag again, this time using both fists and feet. "Ahroun cub. Mine. He was at the Moot... damn. Not the last one, but November. December. Whatever. He's not joining Havoc either." She pauses to concentrate on her blows, then adds, "What's a KL?"

Emma puts some weight into the bag, but doesn't lean on it. It requires a fair bit of effort on her part to keep the bag held. "Kathryn-Laura. A Fury I met a month or so ago. Take Ashley and Doc, mix 'em up and spit 'em out."

Natalie spits to the side before stepping forward for another vicious attack on the bag. "Never figured you for a good word about Ashley. Or is that you ripping on this new Fury? Which one are you insulting?"

Emma snickers at this. "Ashley and I got along famously. We just had stereotypes to live up to." With the next volley from Natalie, the Ahroun finds her feet slipping back a little and she is forced to put more strength behind her side of things. "She's surly. But she's sound. KL I mean. Ahroun too." She smiles from behind the bag at this, "Unless you don't want any more 'roons."

"It's up to Signe," Natalie says a touch sourly, never letting up on her blows, and only now really beginning to breathe heavily. "I think we could use a decent Ragabash. One with some history, some experience."

Emma continues to get jostled by the punches as they soak through onto her side of the bag. "Well, do you know any?" She gives her head a shake-toss to get some hair out of her eyes. "I don't think we got any good Ragabash around, come to think of it, I dunno any that have history. Just cubs, or near-cubs."

"Flash." The single word is the only one from Nat for another few seconds. Finally, though, she steps back, wiping a hand across her forehead before unzipping her heavy leather bomber. "--Flash is the only one to spring to mind, and he fits Wolverine like socks on a duck. Guess there'll be another to wander through, though. They always do."

Emma hmms and gives a nod. "Yah, I don't think Flash would suit things real well. He's kinda a tool." She finally backs off the bag and straightens up. "I think I'll crash at the Safehouse. You're the only one of my last four encounters who hasn't ruffled my feathers. You drive out here?"

"No," Nat drawls, eyeing the young Ahroun wryly. "I walked. I've got nothing better to do with my time than walk all the way out here and then back."

Emma eyes the other as her lips crimp down against each other. "You really have a thing with sarcasm Natalie. You lay it on thicker than I lay syrup on pancakes. Can I ride back with you then?"

Natalie gives the girl a thinned-lip smile. "--Then that's what you should have asked. Sure, you can ride back. You don't touch the radio station though. I'm in no mood to hold Kevin's hand if you want to go back now. I've got work to do."

Emma gives a nod, "Yah that's cool. Don't think there is any refuge to be found out here the next few days. Lemme go grab my bag. Maybe there's something I can help you with."

Natalie shakes her head at the offer, though the edge of her temper's blunted. "Thanks but no thanks. All that's left is Walker-side stuff. I don't know if I'm comfortable having non-tribe wandering around in there."

Emma nods, "Nope, that's cool. Just offering." She uses both hands to comb her hair back into a quick ponytail, though there is nothing to hold it there, and then heads towards the barn door. "So you'd come out here to talk at Kevin and now because he is skulking about you're leaving? Heh, he better not blame me."

"Blame you for Kevin's whining?" Nat asks archly. "No. But he's lost his chance at getting the hell out of here for today. If I'm feeling up to it tomorrow maybe I'll come back." Her shrug says 'and maybe I won't'. "Nah, if you want to go sit in my truck I want to check and see if a couple people are around, then I'm heading back."

Emma gives another bob of her head, "Thanks." With that, the slight Ahroun is off and out the door, heading towards the farmhouse.

[End of log]