Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous Moon phase (68% full).

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 vinyl-covered - 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.

"I'd better see if she needs a hand," Kevin adds, heading for the door into summer... or at least, into the Walkers' area.

Though the whine continues, a few minutes after Kevin disappeared into the Walker side the door opens again. This time it's not the cub who enters, but Natalie. She's wearing ratty old clothes dusted with a very fine spray of something white. While waiting for the heavy door to swing closed behind her she digs her clamshell phone out of her pocket and checks the readout.

Emma pauses in her retreat to greet her pack mate, "Morning Natalie. Was just stopping off to get my things packed up. Think it's safe now to head back to the Brownstone." She slings the bag over her shoulder and then slips her hands into her pockets. "Oh, hey. Brom wants to meet you, is there a good time for me to bring him by? He's already met with Signe and Megan, offered chiminage and all that."

Nat lowers her phone to blink at Emma, then glance up the stairs as if expecting to see someone standing there. "Huh? Moon's still awfully big. I wouldn't go back if I were you." Her shrug indicates that it's the Get's funeral. "Remind me who Brom is again? Why does he want to meet me?"

Emma ponders the advice of the other. "Well, I guess I could stick around a bit more. Didn't want to get in the way of things here." The comment seems to be aimed at past tensions. "Brom is the new Get in town. He said that Signe was possibly interested in seeing if he'd fit for Havoc. And he asked me about you last night." She grins, "I of course, said all good things."

"--Another Get," Nat repeats dryly, both eyebrows heading for her hairline. "That'd make four of you." And one of her. "So what's he like? ...Hey, he's not the one who stabbed Kevin and broke his legs, is he? Then threatened him with more of the same?"

Emma clears her throat and looks down. "Yah. He is. Just one leg, and it happened while sparring in Crinos. It's not like he just walked up and cracked his leg." She doesn't lift her gaze to the other at this point. "He's hard, and well, he's an East Coast Get, and I'm getting to learn there is a difference. That, or I am a misplaced, bad ass, grouchy Child of Gaia. Imagine Gunnar, but bold and outspoken. He's a good Garou though. Heh," she chuckles, "He asked the exact same thing of you, 'what's she like?'. You guys should just meet."

"Travel from the Midwest to the West Coast," the Galliard drawls, sounding as though she's both quoting and unimpressed, "And you're visiting family. Travel from the Midwest to the East, and you're the natives visiting Mecca." "--So he's what? What does 'hard' mean? That he's bigger better faster more?"

Emma thinks on it, "Uh, he's like a WWF wrestler. He's a big, no bullshit kinda guy. But he's not cruel. He definitely wants to do right by Gaia and it shows. He's just, real into the hierarchy of things?" She glances up then with a faint grin, "I told him you two would at least have one thing in common; he also thinks I whine about stuff too much." She pauses, "Oh, and he came to the west because his pack mates all died and he and Rillie have a history together. Which goes sourly for Dillen, but that's not my problem."

Natalie still looks unconvinced, but, "Well, we'll see. --Who's Rillie?"

"Get kin, just in town. She and Dillen hang out a lot. Or did. Brom says that Rillie is his mate, well not officially, I dunno. According to their parents and arrangements they are." Emma shrugs then, "He's probably at the Brownstone if you wanna meet him." Her head cants to the side as she pauses in thought, "And, if you didn't want him in the pack, I wouldn't get angry about that at all." Her reasoning on that, however, is left unmentioned.

"We'll see," Nat says again. Another glance at her phone and she slides it back into her pocket. "I was just going to grab some lunch. Want to join me? I figure it'll be pretty hard for Kevin to screw up the paint sprayer."

Emma grins, "Yah sure. That his job today? Heh, it's like the Karate Kid. Spray on, spray off." She shoulders her bag a bit more and nods, "Lunch here or where? I already raided the cereal here this morning."

Natalie says, "I was just going to make myself peanut butter," with a jerk of her thumb toward the hall. "If that works for you..." She doesn't give the younger girl a chance to chime in before moving that way. "--Oh. You might as well be the first to hear, too. I think I'm gonna Challenge again."

Emma gives an interested, "Oh?" She nods, and drops her bag, "PB&J is fine. How soon you going to do it?" There is a dampening of her mood at this, and a more distracted gaze flitters between the Galliard and the Ahroun's own hands.

Natalie tosses a, "No J," over her shoulder as she leads the way back to the kitchen. "I've got some honey, though, if you need your sugar rush. --How soon?" She pulls open the pantry door, revealing pretty scanty pickings, and shrugs. "Soon. I've got... I'm sick of anyone just being able to waltz in and Challenge me for Elder after they've been here for three minutes."

Emma lets out a snort, "I can imagine that'd be pretty annoying." She looks up into the pantry. "Hmm, I'll do plain peanut butter. -Hey, what kinda stuff can I do to like, I dunno. Start the path towards going up in rank? I mean, as an Ahroun, I get the impression I have to be bad ass and go slay a whole bunch of wyrm things and stuff. I know I'm not ready yet, so no lecturing on that. I just wanna know what I'm supposed to be doing. I'd ask Signe, but she's a different kind of Ahroun than I am. Taller, for one."

Natalie snorts, a half-smile gracing her face, and passes out a jar of store-brand peanut butter (Exxxxtra crunchy!), then a glass jar half-full of honey. "And she'd make a crappy Cliath, too. I'll grab bread if you'll get the plates. --I dunno, Emma, just do your job. You don't have to be the world's best Wyrm fighter ever, but... well, look. What're the two big creeds of the Ahroun? Glory and honor, right?"

Emma nods her head, "Yah. I just, I feel small. Not just physically. Everytime we talk about new people in the pack, it just pushes me further down on the ranking list and leaves so little room for me to shine." She sighs, a hand going up in a dismissive wave as she fetches plates. "Not that I need to be miss star performer. I just mean, it's hard to see the runt has done,or is doing anything, when you have all the giants around her blocking the view."

Natalie crosses over to the bread in it's plastic bag, leaving Emma with the spreadables. "Well, part of it's that you're the youngest. Not by age, though that's part of it. It's just... cripes." She pauses in her twist-tie unwrapping to consider. "Was it this time last year you passed your Rite? Or end of March?"

Emma nods her head, "End of March. And I don't have a problem being where I am in the pack. I knew I'd learn a lot being with more experienced Garou. I just, -feel shadowed I guess. Heh," she laughs, "I'm not content with living my days out as a rited Garou. Just a cliath."

Natalie watches her packmate for another few seconds then turns back to the bread. "So hypothetical situation here. Let's say Dillen joined Havoc. Who's Omega now?"

Emma shrugs her shoulders, "I dunno. He and are butting a lot lately. I always assumed I had rank on him since he just rited. He's got a chip though, and unless we're in Crinos, he'd probably beat me in a fight. It's not fair being so small in a world where big fists rule."

Natalie clears her throat and rubs her thumb and forefinger together at the girl. "Answers my question, though. You would. If you don't want to feel overshadowed all the time, then stop acting like an Omega. Poor Emma, she's small, we ought to be nice to her. C'mon, Em, you know how things work with us. No one will give you anything. You want it, take it. And if someone else wants it more..." She shrugs and pulls a handful of slices out of the bag. "How many do you want?"

Emma sighs, "Two, please. And yah, just take it. How the hell am I supposed to walk up to, let's say Brom, 6'4" and like 300lbs, and just take it? I'm not asking for sympathy Nat, I asked for what I can do to get some rank around here."

Natalie counts the slices in her hand as she says, "Then use your brain to figure out how to take it. Get Brom to challenge you for it, instead of you fighting him." She must come up short, for she pulls another couple of slices and sets the whole lot on the counter before tying the twist tie around the bread bag again. "Know your enemy's weaknesses, and all that. And as for rank, well. You know the creeds. Follow 'em. Do your job. That's the way to get rank."

Emma nods with a grunt. "Yah, so simple." She starts spreading peanut butter on the bread, "Ya want me to do yours, or you gonna do your own?" She sighs, "And ya know, I'm just not gonna say anything anymore. Any time I do, I get the whole 'stop whining Emma' lecture. I guess part of being an Ahroun is to ignore the fact you have thoughts and feelings."

Natalie says, "Damn straight it's simple," as she reaches for the honey only to slam it onto the counter again. "And dammit, Emma, there you go again. You ask for help. I give it to you. And when it's not exactly what you want to hear, when I don't give you the golden ticket on a silver platter, you complain! Don't give me that passive-aggressive bullshit, or so help me god I will wipe you all over these walls. You're better than that."

Emma flinches at the slamming of the jar. "Geezus! Whoa whoa. It's not just you, okay? Anytime I open my mouth for anything, I get bitched at for whining. I'm not. I'm asking for advice and your advice was fine. I was just commenting." She looks down at the bread then, butter knife still in hand and peanut butter smeared on two of the slices. "Sorry."

Natalie glares daggers, only slightly mollified by the apology. "Listen to yourself, Emma. Better yet - Hey Emma, how can I be a really good Ragabash?"

Emma swallows audibly and shrugs her shoulders. "I dunno. I mean, I dunno how to be a Ragabash." The girl looks rather uncomfortable now, and after a moment of contemplation, lifts a shoulder, "Can we just not talk about this... that, anymore?"

Natalie scowls over at her and grabs up the honey again. "Oh man! I'm not going to ever ask again. Every time I do I get the whole 'stop whining Natalie' lecture. I guess part of being me is to ignore the fact that you have thoughts and feelings." She pauses pointedly, eyes narrowing. "Do I make myself clear or do I have to try to be obvious?"

Emma gives a faint nod, "I get it." She takes a deep breath and puts the knife back to the peanut butter, scooping out some more to lather it on the second piece of bread. "Here," she offers, pushing two finished slices over to the other before getting a third slice spread. She is quiet now, focusing on her sandwich making skills now, though she is not sulking or pouty - just a bit cautious.

Natalie takes in a deep breath and lets it out before nodding. "Good," she says, her voice returned to its earlier calm. "Thanks." She pulls another knife out of the drawer and applies honey to the two already peanut-buttery slices. "You're having two, I'm having three... you want honey on yours, or not?" Nice and homey, that's them. Big and little sis.

Emma shakes her head, "No, just peanut butter. Unless you have whip cream or fluff or anything else. Honey would be too sweet." She starts putting peanut butter on the extra slices too, nodding her head as she does. Another short chuckle escapes her then, "Yah, Brom will think you're alright."

Natalie says, "My mom used to make me peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches. And her a nurse, too." She waits for the third slice, then spreads honey on it as well. "Nope, nothing like that. There might be some bananas left if you're into that. But there will be no placing of bacon onto peanut butter sandwiches in this house." She licks the knife clean before setting it over to one side. "Want me to get you some water? It's either that or OJ. The coffee, if there's any left - is there any left? - anyway, it's been sitting since before six."

Emma wrinkles her nose at the offer of coffee. "Just water is good. And yah, I'll steal a banana, that'll be good." She looks about for it, her composure returning. "Has Signe spoken to you about the hospital part of her challenge?" she asks with a now calm curiosity.

Natalie flicks one hand toward the fridge and starts building the other half of her sandwiches. "Bananas are over there, if there's any left. Next to the mug tree. --No, she hasn't. Other than just general stuff. That was... couple of weeks ago? Just about, yeah. A few days after you'd told me she was pregnant."

Emma nods. "She was saying that she's sorta got to rush that now. Or well maybe rush is a bad word. But timing is crucial now. Or, she plans it but stays behind. It's not just Havoc going in though, right?"

Natalie says, "Well, timing is crucial." She tosses Emma a quick look before moving off to rescue two unmatched glasses from an upper cupboard and fill them at the sink. "If she takes too long she won't be able to go along. And you know Signe - can you imagine her planning something like this and then staying happily at home instead of leading from the front?" She switches out glasses and continues, "Probably not just us, no. From what I hear, the hospital's a blight. It'll take more than one Wolverine pack to make a dent. Apparently the entire Sept threw themselves at it a while back and limped away without doing much damage."

Emma nods her head, "Yah I heard the same. How long before Signe shouldn't be shifting and what not? I mean as is, she gets wounded in the tummy, and it's no good for junior." She cuts the banana into long slices and puts the sandwich together. "That's gonna be a bear with her. How long does she have anyway? I mean to complete the challenge. Is there a time limit?"

Natalie exhales on a long sigh and doesn't answer until she's elbowed the tap off. "You're asking the wrong person. I don't know anything about being pregnant while... well. Ask Alicia, or Megan. I know the more shifting you do in your first trimester, the bigger the chance of losing the baby. Other than that...?" She shrugs and takes a drink from the peach glass as she heads over to the half-wall between kitchen and dining room. "I think the Challenge is that she's got to do it in a year. Get pregnant in a year, carry the kid to term, and arrange the attack on the hospital too."

Emma lets out a puff of breath. "Then, if she has to physically lead the attack and not just plan it, she's pretty much screwed. I just hope she can handle failing the challenge, and not go all gung ho and opt for the die in a blaze of glory route instead."

Natalie sets the untouched glass down on the wall, turns and opens her mouth. Then closes it again with a sour look for the Ahroun. "Emma," she asks neutrally, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Emma looks up, confused. "What are you talking about?" She narrows her brows, "You mean what I said? I mean, that if she goes in and has to fight, and we go in from the Umbra... you expect her to fight in homid? She'll either have to shift and risk the kid, losing the challenge, or she'll have to fight in homid and... and I don't want to think about what'd happen then."

"Yeah," Nat repeats. "If. If she has to lead from the front. I don't think she does. I don't know. Neither do you. So stop assuming. Ask Signe if you want to know the terms of her Challenge. Or ask Megan. But don't go flying off the handle."

Emma tightens her lips, "I wasn't. I was just saying. And I am not asking Signe about it because it pisses her off, and I don't wanna go there with her. Miss Mood Queen she is now-a-days." She bites into the sandwich. "She'll figure something out." This is said more to reassure herself than anything else.

"So you want me to ask her," Nat tosses back wryly as she heads back to the sandwiches. "I see it. I ask her, she frenzies and kills me, and you're Beta!" Her words might be serious, but her tone is wryly teasing, and humor sparkles deep in her eyes. "Well, that's one way of using your head to get what you want. Good thinking."

Emma lets out a big laugh at this, "No, no way Natalie. If I was beta, then I'd have to do all the asking in the future. You're more cut out for the position than I am anyway, and I know that. I just want Signe to succeed at this challenge, but not get herself killed trying to. That's all. It's selfish of me, but..." she shrugs, "But it's honest."

"Then it's selfish of me, too," the other says with a shrug as she piles her sandwiches on top of each other. "Because damn, I want Signe to pass. Mostly to prove to myself that it can be done, but because I think she deserves it. And I think Megan-rhya needs a little reminder ever now and then that... well. Doesn't matter."

Emma looks up at this last part, grinning slightly. "That what?" She has the look of the cat that ate the canary suddenly, "That she's not the only one that stand on top of that mountain?"

Natalie only shrugs her head, refusing to be baited. "It doesn't matter, I said. Did you get out plates?"

Emma looks to the sandwich in hand and then to the plates at the table. "Yah. I suppose I could use one, be all ladylike." She grins a little and sits down, setting the sandwiches onto the plate to finish her lunch.

[End of log]