Currently the moon is in the waxing Gibbous Moon phase (72% 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 aluminum and vinyl-upholstered chairs - 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.

Natalie allows the stranger into the house wearing a thin veneer of civilization over the moon's pull. She nods the shorter woman past her into the foyer, but doesn't speak until she's closed the front door firmly against the warm Washington evening. "--You said Megan sent you?" Polite, her tone, but she keeps herself between the stranger and the door.

Nascha is a petite young woman of what would seem, at first glance, a native American origin. Her face is round and her skin of a smooth, light, even copper color. Her black hair is long and thick, frequently tied back with a strip of leather in a braided bun for ease and function and occasionally spotted with beads. Even her eyes, a dark cocoa brown, have that slightly 'pulled back' look, which in her case often emphasizes the thoughtful expression on her face. However, there is something else in her, often taking a good second look to determine. The shape of her lips and the form of her nose, the slight kink to her hair and the faint browner tinge to her skin - all suggestive of African blood. It would seem the less dominant end of her blood. Often she can be seen in traditional dress of leathers and woven cloth, but there are rare occasions when jeans and old flannel tops are required - though not often.

Nascha is without her staff for once, which shows as a coiled and ornate tattoo on her right forearm. She nods politely once the door is closed and waits just a moment before speaking. "Yes. My name is Nascha Tenduzi, Calls-Down-the-Stars-to-Judge, Cliath lawgiver come from the Uktena of the Midnight Fire. I am here to join the sept and have been asked by Megan Firewatcher to perform the Rite of Reconciliation for you and Jacinta Pierces-the-Ice."

Natalie waits until the other is finished, then tips her head to her. "Pleased to meet you. If you're here you know who I am, but just to get it out of the way... Natalie Baker, called Holds-the-Line. Cliath Galliard, and Elder of the Glass Walkers of St. Claire." The simple act of reciting her name seems to bring her a modicum more calm. "Welcome to St. Claire." She opens her hand toward the living room, tilting her head that way as well. "Can I get you anything? And what do you prefer to be called?"

"Nascha is fine." The Uktena says as she follows the Walker and a few steps behind. "Water would be appreciated. I am not used to the heat of a big city. I came here because I wanted to ask about the reasons behind this feud. Megan did not give me any details."

Natalie heads a few steps down the hallway before stopping and turning, surprised. "She... didn't? Oh, um... all right. Why don't we... take a seat in the dining room," she nods into the room on her left, "and I'll go get your water? It'll just be a second." And the Philodox will be able to see her moving around in the kitchen as well as continue talking to her, should she feel the need.

Nascha looks towards the indicated room and with a quick nod walks over to claim one of the chairs for herself, settling in with a quiet exhale of breath. She watches the Galliard move about the kitchen with a mild sort of curiosity, but holds off on saying anything for the moment.

Natalie moves around the kitchen quickly and competently, eventually bringing two glasses of ice water and a small bowl of baby carrots to the dining room table. "Thought you might want something to crunch on," she explains as she slides into the chair opposite Nascha's. "So, um... I thought Megan was going to be running this shindig. But you say it's your chiminage to do it instead?"

Nascha takes the water with a thanks and plucks a carrot from the bowl, biting off the end and waiting until her mouth is clear before speaking. "It is. I must also teach another Philodox the Rite. This is what Megan told me to do, and so I am here. I just have no knowledge of what, besides a fight, I am supposed to be Reconciling."

Natalie ahs near-silently and turns her attention to her water glass, which she holds before her in both hands. "It's a fight over a kin," she begins. "One of the Wendigo Elder's kin lives here in the city, and is fairly high placed in politics. He called me - my pack, really - and asked for some help. I didn't even think to talk to her about it. Just... slipped my mind." She glances up, right hand thumping her ribs. "Mea culpa. I talked to her later, after this came out at moot, and she called me on it. I agreed, I'd been stupid."

Nascha looks mildly confused as the story is told, pausing to regard her glass of water and decides to take a drink before asking, "Then if you agreed a mistake had been made, why is the fight continuing?"

Natalie tilts her a wry little smile. "It gets better. So - and this is what I remember, mind, not necessarily exactly what happened - she said I had to check with her every time he called me, or every time I needed to ask him something. I'm sure you've noticed - it's a hell of a drive from the bawn to here, plus the bawn's a big freaking place. Driving out there, plus finding her somewhere out there, plus driving back's got to suck up two hours. I'm beta of a war pack and Walker Elder. I can't just drop everything to go play Mother May I when something comes up. She didn't like me telling her that, and she put on more demands. I tried - I really tried - to come up with some compromise, but her restrictions just got tighter and tighter. Finally she said that no Glass Walker could contact her kin, period, end of story."

Natalie's fingers tighten around her glass, though she has yet to drink from it. "I agreed, reluctantly, because she was losing it. I figured I'd let her calm down, then try again some other time. Then she said something in some language - not English, not Mother's Tongue. I dunno what it was, but it didn't sound complimentary, you know? I called her on it, she throated me. I was pissed." Another grimace, and she looks up, not-quite meeting the Philodox's eyes. "I went back to the farmhouse and wrote a note telling everyone to stay away from her kin. Yeah, I was overstepping my boundaries, but that's all but what she was saying - hell, she was all but peeing on the guy. Since then, even though I'm trying to be polite, she's got nothing but insults for me. Even though I'm supposed to be helping her in her Fostern Challenge, she can't open her mouth without telling me how untrustworthy I am. I've had enough. We can't go on like this, not two tribal Elders. I don't care if she is stuck in the Stone Age."

Nascha listens to the Walker's story with a close ear, nodding here and there to indicate she is both paying attention and understanding her words. When she speaks, it is in the kind of tone an employer might use while interviewing a potential employee. Careful, precise, and neutral. "In the end, it is her choice what will be done with her tribe's kin as Elder. Still, this argument must come to an end one way or another. In the Rite, you must both declare your intention to put this fight aside. It is binding, a contract. It is useless if both are not willing to put their weapons aside. To undergo the Rite and then to break the contract is of the highest dishonor."

"I'm not arguing that her kin is her business," Nat says with a quick shake of her head as though to completely eradicate the idea from the table. "Like I said, I screwed up. If she'd done that with one of mine, I'd be pissed too. I accept that. What I don't accept is her, her refusal to take it and let it go. Her continual insults. She acts like I'm something the cat yarked up and she stepped in." She reaches for a handful of carrots, pops one into her mouth. "Yeah, I want this over. I want to stop feeling like I have to look over my shoulder for the knife when I go out to the bawn. Hell, I'll tell the whole damn Sept at Moot that I screwed up. I just want an apology for continually - constantly - treating me like scum."

"Even after I admitted I was wrong," she adds, then crunches firmly into the carrots.

"Then the day after tommorow, as the sun sets, I would like you both to join me in the sept compound." Nascha states, holding water in one hand and the half-eaten carrot in the other. "There I will perform the Rite. I would like you each to bring one other Garou with you, one who is in good standing of honor, as witness. It will be before them, me, and Gaia that you both declare an end to this."

Natalie grimaces at that 'good standing of honor' and finishes mangling her carrots, which crunch most satisfyingly. "Of good honor, huh? Right. Well, that rules out my first choice. I'll find someone, though. Thank you, Nascha. I appreciate this."

Nascha nods her head once more and finishes the carrot in hand. "It is my job. It will be good to be a judge again, I have not been for some time. I will have to find Jacinta and speak with her, or at very least leave a message. Do you know where she currently is? I know she is here in the city."

Natalie shakes her head, grimace returning as pursed lips. "No. She wouldn't tell me. But... lemme go check. She told my Philodox. I think I can talk him into giving the number to you." She snags another couple of carrots and stands. "Oh - do you have a place to stay? The safehouse here is open if you need it. All we ask is that if you stay more than a few days, you contribute something. Food, rent money, whatever. Think about it." She heads for the hallway, and thence the foyer, without waiting for an answer.

"That would be good." Nascha states, short and simple, not giving a reply as the Glass Walker moves off before she can. So, the Uktena waits with a wooden patience the several long minutes the other is gone, consuming two more carrot sticks and finishing off her water in the meantime.

The sound of a heavy door announces the imminent reappearance of the Walker Galliard, the same that marked her exit into what must be another section of the house. "Here it is," she calls, a folded scrap of paper preceding her into the room. It isn't tossed onto the table, but instead held out until the Uktena takes it.

Nascha stands so she can accept the folded paper. "Thank you, I appreciate this. I will contact her and tell her when the Rite will be held and what she must do. Also, you must bring an object of war that is precious to you. Each of you must, and they will be buried or broken to show a symbolic end to your feud."

"...An object of War," Nat echoes, her eyebrows heading for the ceiling. "Like... a gun? A knife? I don't really have anything like that. I mean, I have a gun, but I never use it. It's hardly 'precious to me'." She takes a step back so the shorter woman doesn't have to crane her neck, her hands migrating to her hips.

"The objects value makes the breaking more meaningful," Nascha states, almost sounding disappointed. Almost. "But is not required. Just preferred. Either weapon is fine. As long as it is a symbol of aggression, it will be suitable. Weapons are most commonly used, as these are the most obvious."

Natalie's right hand sneaks up to scratch the back of her neck, a thoughtful frown still on her face. "Well... cripes. I don't use a knife, either. I guess the gun's going to have to be it. Jon's gonna flip when I tell him I buried a gun, though. But it's going to have more meaning than me just grabbing a butcher knife, simply because it's more expensive."

"Whatever you choose, Natalie-rhya." Nascha says as she watches the Galliard. "A witness and a symbol of aggression, to be brought to the sept compound at sunset the night after next." She repeats, just to make sure the instructions are understood.

Natalie says, "Can do. Will do." Her thumbs slink toward her beltloops as she adds, "Do you need a place to stay for a few days? If you do, I'll get you a key and a tour. If not, feel free to stop by any time. There's usually someone home, even if they're not here. Might take a few to get the door open, but if we're around we'll let you in."

"I am staying out on the bawn." Nascha says in reply. "I am looking to become a Guardian, so I am learning the land, but if I am in the city and need assistance my Elder cannot provide, then I will stop by. Thank you for your offer."

"That's what it's here for," the Elder says with a nod for the other's refusal. "Well, lemme head out, give you some privacy so you can call her. Just give a knock to the door - the security door, I mean - when you leave. Or if you need to talk to me, stick around. You sure there isn't anything else I can get you?" It doesn't seem like she's brown-nosing, just manners - but if she is, she's doing it with a sincere mien.

Nascha gives her hand a slight motion like a dismissing wave. "I am fine. It is getting late, so I must return to the bawn before too much more time passes. I will call her and then be on my way."

Nat says, "Sounds good." She bobs her head toward the Uktena again, then heads for the hallway. A second later she pokes her head back in to add, "Oh - the phone's in the kitchen, next to the fridge. And don't worry about cleaning up. I'll take care of that. See you on Thursday."

[End of log]