It would be a strange sight in reality, but in the Umbra around these parts it probably isn't quite as nerve wracking. Still, the metis in homid and her new moon companion in a cautious hispo form gaze out over the hilltops to the mountain tops around, conversing quietly in a combination of growls and other vocalizations, as well as body language. The Mother Tongue at its...slangiest, in some phrases.

A new scent -- should any be so sensitive as to scent such a scent -- drifts along a breeze carried by ephemeral wind that can be seen as well as felt. Spirits, mmm. Sun's Silver Son, stranger to these parts but bold in that he ascends with a sure stride, climbs to the top of the hill, his own dark nostrils flared to examine the air. Ah, there he is... and ah, there they are. He halts, still save for the forward tilt of perked ears, and watches for a few long, silent moments.

Kaz is not sensitive enough to catch scents, but she is sensitive to movement, and the Fang is moving. Her glance is dragged that way, and she regards him, eyebrow raised, falling silent, now.

Three-Blades notices the scent first, distinctly wolf and stranger to her perceptive mind. The sound of pawsteps on umbral grass makes her ears turn first, then her head in the intended direction with a proper swivel of her ears back into place. She rises to her own large paws. After a moment's appraisal, she chuffs out. ~Who're you?~ The slang apparently, hasn't been dropped. A certain tilt along her large pointed ears tells that she is still regarding him, but with an inner sense.

Sun'sSilverSon flickers an ear briefly, then sidles around to another part of the hill, to be quite firmly upwind. The wolf growls gently, but not with threat. Slang may not be unknown to him, but it won't be practiced. If others are of Gaia, then others have nothing to fear from this one, herald of Helios, his silvered child, he intends to reassure. There is a long moment of silence and staring -- staring at /each/ of you. Finally his frame seems to relax, and he offers, This one is called Cold Blood.

Sun'sSilverSon pages to the room: That is, I assume none of /you/ ping on Sense Wyrm (which would be the "moment of silence and staring")

From afar, to the room, Kaz utterly fails to ping on SW, correct.

This speech does not get a more relaxed Kaz. If anything, it gets a more amused Kaz, though it's not derisive. "Cold Blood, huh? Herald of Helios, huh? I'm fascinated. Really. Completely." Shaking her head minutely, she adds, "Lemme guess. Silver Fang, right?"

Three-Blades flicks her ears also in amusement. ~We have a lizard in wolf's clothing, or is he really a warm-hearted wolf?~ She glances up towards the galliard, hoping she had the gift.

Kaz says, decisively, "Ain't no Wyrm on him, nope. So he's just... Fascinatin'."

~This one is.~ Fascinating? Or a Silver Fang? Or a lizard? In any case, Sun's Silver Son -- or Cold Blood -- does not appear to be amused. Only somewhat cordial. ~Who are others?~

Kaz immediately straightens slightly. Realizing she's doing it, she slouches again. Speaking in the Mother Tongue, for politeness' sake -- he could be lupus born, after all -- she says, ~Kaz. Ears, t'Garou. Ear-to-the-Ground, for the more formal among us.~ Glancing at Yi a little warily, she adds, ~People keep callin' me Mama Kaz. I'm a Bone Gnawer Galliard, an' Alpha of Trouble.~ There's a slight pause as she examines him through her hair, and then she adds, ~Metis.~

Three-Blades looks back to the wolf from Kaz, and steps forward to meet the wolf. Her head and tail are held high, along with her ears perked forward. For every bit of possible dog that might be come out in the hispo, there's still a distinct posture of dominance until otherwise noted. And in this form, she towers almost a head above him. ~You have come to the Caern of the Hidden Walk. Speak your name, wolf.~

To give the wolf credit, he does not seem afraid of the hispo. On the other hand, a negative trait is that he seems somewhat... bored and completely unimpressed with the dominance. Well, at least he's not /amused/ by it; that would be horrible. ~This one is Cold Blood, twoleg-born Cliath Ahroun of the illustrious Silver Fangs of House Austere Howl, Lodge of the Sun, whose sire is the Silver Sabre, whose sire is Argent Blades of Luna, whose dam was Silver Tongue, whose sire was brave Kin, whose sire was Phoebe's Bright Vengeance, whose dam was...~

Kaz breaks in, sounding both bored and amused, "Are you gonna keep goin' til you get back to Adam and Eve, dude? I mean, I just wanna know so I can sit down and listen properly, see."

Three-Blades gives her ruff a shake, whuffling lowly. ~Something tells me Adam has a rival for small words on his business card now.~ Her dominant posture loosens quickly, turning down to that loose, easy equal flow as she trots back towards Kaz and turns around to face the Silver Fang. ~You going to stand their all night and run your tongue, or come up here and enjoy the view?~

Sun'sSilverSon very nearly tosses his head; he curbs the impulse. Instead he squares his shoulders, as it were, and puffs out his chest to look a little more impressive. While not a handsome thing, he /is/ Silver Fang and must play that part. ~This one is proud to recite his lineage,~ he grunts. Then his green-eyed gaze settles upon the other fur form, and he addresses her, ~This one awaits other's introduction.~

Kaz straightens again, unconsciously, although not, this time, in reaction to the Fang's pure breed. Rather, she's asserting her own self confidence, her own bearing, her own hard won self-respect. She may only be a Gnawer, but she is a leader of Gnawers, in these parts, and it does show, now that the surprise has worn off, in her expression and her posture.

Three-Blades looks vaguely impressed by the lizard's primary sexual display frill, but thinks it's a bit too orange. Still she does dip her head in the smallest of gestures. ~Three-Blades, rited newmoon of the Bone Gnawers, daughter under Grandmother Salmon in the pack Salmon's Leap, from the Sept of Rat's Tail over the oceans... in the East that is west from here.~

~Where the Blood Red Crest dwells,~ the well-bred wolf surmises. He flickers an ear in further acknowledgement. ~This one is glad to meet others Ear-to-the-Ground and Three-Blades.~ He finally pads forward, and stands a short distance behind and to the side of the hispo. Whether this is coincidence or to prove the fact that he's truly not at all cowed by the fighting form is anyone's guess.

Kaz watches him carefully, almost warily, as he approaches. "Yeah. Glad to meet you too. So -- whatcha up to, 'round here?" It's a casually worded question, but obviously, her intent is not casual at all.

Three-Blades ponders for a little bit about the Blood Red Crest. Not to be left behind in the conversation, she perks at ear towards the Fang, the movement echoing her interest in the answer to Kaz's question as well.

Sun'sSilverSon replies, simply, ~Settling.~ He sits back on his haunches, tail curled about his hindquarters, and points his slender snout skyward to search the dark heavens. One needn't be a 'Gazer. ~Tell this one about the Hidden Walk,~ he requests. Firmly. But it /is/ a request. A Fangish one.

Kaz says, eyebrow raised, "Oh, so you're stayin'. Sounds good t'/me/..." She shoots a glance at Yi. Then, looking back to the ahroun, she shrugs. She even sounds sort of regretful. "Well, I would, but we'd kinda get in trouble with the Totem for tellin' too much about the Sept. So pretty much, I can direct you to your Elder, and talk about stuff like the City with glee -- but no details of Sept organization. Not yet.."

Sun'sSilverSon's white-furred shoulders roll in approximation of a human's shrug. ~Then this one will not say what he may offer. Not yet. Who is this one's auspicious elder?~

~On the other claw, you can tell us why you've decided to come to this part of the woods...or not.~ Three-Blades gives her strong jaws a lick, and looks over to Kaz for that answer.

Kaz answers, promptly, "Kristine Vaughn-St. David. Stands By Her Own. Theurge. Daughter of Raven. She lives --" Kaz gestures toward the city, "Over in a mansiony place near Kent Crossing. Don't think she has a phone. An' I'd appreciate knowin' why you've come, too. It's only politeness, ain't it?"

Sun'sSilverSon bows his shaggy head again, looking to his fellow... Garou. That's what he shares with these two. Not gender, not Tribe, not auspice, not ideology. Just changing breed. As such, his answer is neither particularly warm nor regretful. Just sincere. ~That is a message for this one's elder's asking first. When that is done, this one can tell others more.~

Three-Blades flickers her ears amusedly. ~Not even a proper 'hello, I'm here because-' to any possible other Garou of the sept? Where did you come from, then?~ The newmoon, obviously, is interested in this Sekrit Silver Fang. Insert Mission Impossible theme here.

Kaz quirks a small smile. "Playin' his cards close t'th' vest, ain't he?" She crouches down and sidles slightly closer to Yi, offering a scritch behind the ears. United front, but not /too/ aggressive. Scritching tends to preclude aggression.

Sun'sSilverSon will shortly self destruct; that is an Ahroun's purpose. ~From the east that is to the east, the seat of Austere Howl, and the Sept of the King's Crown, owing allegiance to Helios.~

Three-Blades' fur around her head lifts a bit, just to allow further scritchage though. ~You really have a thing for the sun, don't you Lizard?~ Her jaws open in a lupine grin, meaning nothing more than just a joke. ~So then, Sun's Silver Son... run into any others of the caern?~

Kaz narrows her eyes slightly. "England? Th' fuck you wanna come /here/ for, of all places, from /England/?" There's a pause. "I know, I know, you gotta talk to Kris first. Sorry."

Sun'sSilverSon arches his neck just so. ~The sun is life. Forests of the Wyld would not grow if only Aunt Luna shone. Sun is male, and powerful, and warms and comforts Gaia. Helios is farther away, but so much stronger; see how He may burn people. Leeches do not flee from Luna, but from Helios.~ Now he /does/ toss his head. There's no reply for Kaz, since she answers herself, and he grunts his affirmative to that. But he /does/ go on to chuff, ~This one may have met family, but this one is not sure. She seemed familiar.~

Three-Blades licks her muzzle thoughtfully. ~England. Home used to belong to you Silver Fangs. Now it is back in our claws.~ Her tail curls a bit. ~You come alone, Son of the Sun?~

Kaz observes, mostly to herself, a little bemused, "Y'know, he's right, but he sounds so damn annoying when he says it." After a short pause, she adds, "Geez, we've needed more've you."

Sun'sSilverSon gives Three-Blades a look that is both sad and amused, as though he fondly pities the poor child. Who outsizes him. Since he's 'Fang, he may pull this off. ~This one comes alone,~ he affirms. ~Are things so dire, or have others come to their senses, that they wish for this one's glorious Tribe to march in great numbers?~

~No... though in some places that would be greatly appreciated...~ Three-Blades growls this, though the hostility isn't directly placed at the Fang's direction. She looks back to Kaz. ~We should take him to see his Elder, shouldn't we?~

Kaz rolls her eyes. "No. Mostly, it's that I like bein' among my tribemates, but sometimes, I gotta hang out with folks who remind me /why/ I like my tribemates. Y'know? Also," she feels constrained to admit, "More good Garou are always appreciated."

Sun'sSilverSon answers Three-Blades, himself. ~Others should.~

Kaz considers. "Well. Mebbe..." but trails off. "Let's check out th' cub house, see if Kris is there, then we can drag him t'further off spots. Yeah?"

Three-Blades snorts at Lizard. ~And if we just left you out here, that would be another option too.~ She rises to her paws, her mood having gone downhill from its short rise from an unmentioned grievance. ~Let's.~ Her ears half-flatten back as she shifts down to a more particular travel size, and trots over to the gleaming stone to step back across.

Sun'sSilverSon agrees, ~That is another option.~ And apparently he would be well with any decision... but he's pleased enough to 'sidestep' and follow.

[BAMF!]

Farmhouse: Hallway and Living Room
All doorways in the front part of the house lead to the front hallway, a J-shaped area with the short tail starting at the stairs, the front door hitting the bottom curve, the doorless opening to the living room halfway up the long side, and the also doorless opening to the kitchen and dining room at the very top. The hall has a simple wooden floor, and decorated with a generic print of soft-colored flowers hanging on the wall to the right of the front door, and a tall table sitting under the print which serves as a place to toss keys. A closet under the stairs serves as a place to hang coats or to toss shoes.
The doorless opening to the living room is halfway up the side of the hall's J, and the word cozy might spring to mind when looking into is, as it seems to radiate comforting vibrations. A long couch sits against the south wall beneath a large bay window curtained only by sheers that manages to obscure the view in but only filters the day's light. A variety of out-of-date magazines are strewn atop a low coffee table; more neatly presented are the plethora of books filling the small bookshelves which line the eastern wall. Three chairs sit about the room, focused inward, to allow group conversations. Large floor pillows are stacked in one corner of the room, except one, which lies carelessly in the middle of the floor, apparently left out the last time it was used.
An opening in the northern end of the hallway allows access to the kitchen and dining room at the back of the house, while carpeted stairs twist up at the other end of the hall, leading to the second floor. A door at the base of the J lets out to the front porch.
(Non-Garou, please "+view curse")
Contents:
Kaz
Brittany
NOTE: Current Farmhouse Residents (Updated: Feb 21)
Obvious exits:
Kitchen/Dining Room Front Door STairs

[Donovan's homid desc]
Nothing is particularly remarkable about Donovan's physical features, truth be told. White skin, watery green eyes, pale blonde hair. Nothing too special, just European blood. Not American, no, because his accent is that of a Brit. The voice is baritone. That's all. He's no singer. His words are carefully enunciated, though. His goldish hair is cropped close, and he sports a carefully trimmed mustache and goatee. He stands just shy of six feet, his shoulders and back always straight. Always.
His clothing is simple, casual, comfortable. Pressed khakis are cuffed about tan hiking boots. A white polo shirt tucks into the slacks, and over that goes a forest green suit vest. It cannot be said that he is a brawny fellow, but he seems to keep himself in good shape. His physique is such that it appears he might be built for the long run rather than lifting weights. Should the weather warrant it, he wears a black leather bomber jacket, fleece-lined. His only accessories are a ring and pocket watch, both golden.
One might guess him to be in his early 20's or so.

Brittany is on the couch in the main room, leaning forward over a table filled with papers and files. A pencil is stuck behind one ear, with two more wound into her bun, and she's tapping a fourth against her bottom lip, looking over details. She's leaning forward somewhat, looking down through her granny-glasses, looking a bit awkward with knees pressed together but feet splayed apart. A pot of coffee, three quarters gone, rests on an end table beside her, while a cup rests by it, a goodly distance form the paperwork.

Kaz comes clattering in the door, somewhat cheerfully, and glances around quickly. "Aw, damn," she says, to the people behind her, "No Kris. But I gottan almost suitable replacement!" She gestures at Brittany, and then heads into the kitchen for the briefest of moments for a Coke. "Go to it, dude. This here's tribe've yours."

Yi enters as well, having somewhere along the line from Umbra to farmhouse shifted to her birth form. She stays quiet now, not as outspoken as she was earlier. Her eyes observe perhaps scrutinizingly, watching action and reaction.

Donovan is... escorted in? Yes. That. First things first: examine surroundings. He does this with a slightly furrowed brow, but then gives a slow nod, as though he approves. Kaz receives a bland look. "I always know my illustrious cousins." That said, he strolls forth a bit and clears his throat, looking to Brittany. And waiting.

[Brittany's desc]
Like a Greek statue come to life, the regal woman before you has a cold, impassionate beauty about her. In her early thirties, her skin is still smooth and pale, her eyes a faint blue, and her hair snow white, giving her a washed-out look. Her classic features and perfect posture lend to her elegance, with high, arching brows, slender lips, and chisled features. Her neck is slender and swanlike, her body long and lean, like a wineglass, and her fingers are the long, tapered digits of a musician. Her wavey hair falls just below shoulder length if left unbound, but normally she keeps it drawn back, tied with a black satin ribbon. Her voice is low, soft, and tinged with an Old South accent.
She's sedate today in 'librarian chic': A simple black felt skirt an inch above the knee with a small slit in back, a thin white silk blouse, and a modest black felt blazer with a v-neck that dips to her breastbone. Her glasses are black, matching her dress heels, and stradle a fine line between fashionable and nessecity. Finally, her hair is wound into a tight bun.
Carrying:
Klaive

Brittany startles a bit at the entrance, removing her glasses to get a look up. "Oh, Kaz..." Then, she catches sight of Donovan, and ahems, quickly rising to her feet as she deposits her lenses and the pencil in hand to the table, snagging a napkin to clean her hands a bit. "Good evening to you," she says, extending her hand, now, with a smile, "But I hope you'll forgive the rather dishevelled state. The Lady Jefferson of Kent Crossing, Of the Virginia Jeffersons, firstborn of the King of the Greater Protectorate of Virginia, Princess of the Sept of Liberty, Defender of the Land, Protector of the Crown, Marked by Keres and Great Huntress. CLiathed in honor by my father's own hand as Sterling the Pure, Keeper of the Way, Full member of Those Whose Fangs are Like Unto a Thing of Silver, Lodge of the Sun, Eastern House of Wyrmfoe, and now both member in good stead and Guardian of the Sept of the Hidden Path." She blushes a bit, adding, "I'll make a more formal introduction when the tribe gathers for a Moot of the First Tribes."

Kaz beams as if she'd just invented the half moon, and then pops her Coke open, gulping about half of it down in one swig.

Yi first gazes at Brit as she makes her introduction, and the look just gets more incredulous when she notes there's more. "One'd think they actually made the sun, earth, moon and skies," she mutters quietly while moving to a more suitable watcher position.

"I look forward to hearing it, lady and highness," Donovan replies. He steps forward again to take the hand, not to shake, but to kiss. When he has let Brittany reclaim that limb, he steps back and offers, "Sun's Silver Son, herald of Helios and Anruth traveling from the Sept of the King's Crown, whose servants and nobles owe their allegiance to the Bright Eye of Heaven, the sun. I am Rite-named Cold Blood by our cousins of that shining Sept, and I am a Cliath, human-born, Ahroun, squire of the House of the Austere Howl and Lodge of the Sun."

Eamon looks around. "I thought I heard the sound of huge amounts of hot air being expelled. Howyadoin, Brit?"

Kaz adds, "An' since he seems t'forget a lotta the time, he's also called Donovan by us po' folks."

Brittany nods perfectly to Donovan, with a smile. "I should note that if the accomidations here are not up to standard, that my home is currently available as well. The rennovations were put on pause while my tenure as Guardian, here, began, but the home itself is quite liveable. You'll just have to excuse a few rooms being shut down and covered up for the remdelling. Please, won't you sit?" She indicates a chair nearby, then reaches for the coffee, but finds it cold with a frown. She glances over at Eamon, noting, first, "Lady Jefferson, dear, or Brittany if you must, but never Brit." She offers the cold pot over towards the Fianna, noting, "If you'd care to easily make ammends, and greet our Guest, here, I'd ask that you be so kind as to bring us a new pot, to warm a traveller's weary bones?"

Yi notes just out of the blue, "Donovan is a pretty good character in fighting games." Her note is probably, missed by everyone who doesn't know Darkstalkers and its spawn. She waves to Eamon from her lazing spot on the floor cushion beside the couch.

Donovan heads over to the indicated chair, but does not seat himself. Firstly, women are still standing. Secondly, he hasn't really met Eamon. But to Brittany, he replies, "I thank you kindly, Lady Jefferson, but I have lodging and am self-sufficient, I like to think." He offers a vague smile that's polite. And for a fellow Tribemate, it's even somewhat... warm. Maybe it's that whole sun thing.

Eamon snorts. "Do I look like the coffee boy? Whatever." He waves to Donovan. "Yo, whassup? I'm Eamon, Fianna ragabash. There, now wasn't that easier on the ears than all that bullshit? All right, all right, I'll get your damn coffee." He grabs the pot from Brittany and stalks into the kitchen, muttering under his breath.

Brittany glances after Eamon, then back to Donovan, noting, "Ragabash. He's a bit terse at times, but his skill brought him a Fosternhood early." As if this explained everything, she then sits, legs folding gracefully, both hands smoothing her skirt in place in the process. She then asks, "King's Crown ... quite a journey. What brings you so far from home, good sir?"

Kaz finishes her Coke, and tosses it into the recycling in the kitchen. She re-emerges with some water, and tells the half moon, "Yo, by the way, next shipment of shit t'morrow, ok?"

Donovan really does try to keep his lip from curling. Was it the 'Fianna' bit? The 'bullshit?' Enh. Thankfully, he's distracted by speaking to his Tribemate, who garners far more attention than any other here. Sir. He squares his shoulders a bit. "It is a story for relatives' ears only. My apologies." He does glance to the non-royalists.

Eamon returns with a fresh pot of coffee, adopting a snooty British butler accent. "Will there be anything more, milady? Shine your shoes? Buff your nails? Peel you a grape?"

Yi, were she in lupus, would be rolling around on the floor. She just sends Eamon some knowing eyeglints though. "What? I thought we were all family here, Lizard. I mean, from England and all, and with Hong Kong being under British control for a ..short while until we got it back."

"It is a Tribal matter," Donovan clarifies. Then, he says to Eamon, "Och, thank'ee kindly, man." He will, if allowed, accept coffee and pour for himself "But d'ye have nae where else tae go, nor aught else tae do now, Eamon-rhya?" He asks this so seriously, too, with that mangled... accent.

Brittany nods at Donovan, adding, "Fair enough, but we will have to contact them for some details before you can be admitted to the Caern." She winces a bit, adding, "Terribly untrusting, I know, but I'm bound by Sept protocals, rather than Kinain customs, here. Such is the duty of a Guardian. Still, I do hope ..." She pauses, as

Eamon returns, then blinks a bit. "A second cup would have been something, as my own is too used to offer. And a light snack, perhaps. Or ..." She sighs, standing up again. "Please, do excuse me for a moment, good sir? I'll make everything right perosnally." She then walks towards the kitchen, glancing at Eamon in passing.

Kaz grins into her water glass, and plumps into a chair, watching Brittany bustle about with only the faintest trace of amusement on her face, once she looks up from the cup.

Knock Knock, and then the door opens, and here comes Santa--er--yes, Kristine, in all her glory! Well, not so, if one can see her past the rather large bag she's hefting about with a grumble.

Kaz practically shoots out of her chair. "Good lord, it's fuckin' old home week. Hey, Kristine, you got visitors."

Eamon becomes more serious now. "Hey Brittany, got a favor to ask before you do that. Can you sniff out a suspected cub to see if she's garou?

Eamon says "Not right now, I mean."

Yi peers from around the couch arm with a lean out, and up towards the Santa Kris. "Yo," she greets." Mention of cubs just gives the Gnawer newmoon some more mental grief but it is quickly overmasked.

Donovan must have re-poured for Brittany, that's it. When done, he turns, and after spending a moment blinking at Kristine (well, the itty bits he can see behind what she carries?), and he swiftly moves over to offer, "Lady, might I lend a helping hand?"

[Kristine's Desc]
Giving her the benefit of the doubt, Kristine stands at five feet tall. Her build is truly petite, giving suggestion that this woman hardly weighs a thing. Her movements of late carry a hardened edge to offset her natural 'soft' grace. Her face carries a distant look about her, but her eyes, which possess an eerie near-transluscent green, dart about, constantly alert. Full lips often have a ghost of a smile, perhaps giving suspicion to what is on her mind at that moment. Her skin has begun to lose that 'sheltered pale' color, and has been replaced with a golden tan color, evidence, perhaps, of many hours spent outdoors.
Her hair has finally grown out to be of a decent length. The ends of her hair barely brush her shoulders, and have begun to show off her natural wave. The hair's main color, a rich auburn, has begun to lighten thanks to the slow streaking of white, aside from the prominent white streak at her right temple. For the most part, she keeps the front of the hair tied back, away from her face, but there's always a few errant strands that fall within her view.
It seems Kristine's trying to combine her own 'woodsy' style with something more flattering to her gender than a pair of torn jeans. A simple dress of a tawny color hangs about her body, though the fit is neither too tight, nor too loose. The top is done in a halter style, leaving her arms fully bare. The hem of the gown hits to about mid-calf, with a slit that only goes just above the knee on her left side. A loose leather belt is worn about her hips, while knee-high leather boots, the soles approrpiate for walking in woods, are on her feet. A pair of simple gloves on her hands complete the outfit.

Kristine's head peeks from behind the bag, and gives Donovan a look, probably at the whole Lady business. She shrugs and then hefts the bag to him, "By all means. Set it down near the wall over there, please." She spots Brittany, "I brought some books by, like I mentioned I'd do this morning." She then glances at Donovan, giving him a better sizing up. She then oohs lightly and then smiles, a little bit, "You're new here, aren't you?" Flash of the obvious, but that's Kris for you.

Kaz adds, "He's yours, in case it wasn't hugely obvious."

"Yes, lady," Donovan replies to Kristine, as he carries the heavy bag without complaint, to set it where directed. "Squire Donovan Rothwell of the Austere Howl, formerly of King's Crown, herald of Helios and the Lodge of the Sun. Deed-named Cold Blood, but also known as the Sun's Silver Son, Cliath, human-born, and Ahroun." Well, he's shortened it up /some/. Never did like repeating himself.

"Or Lizard, for short," Yi quips from her spot down at the couch. "He's just so endearing."

Donovan says, calmly, without looking to Yi, "I would respectfully request that you do not call me that."

Kaz mutters something quietly to Yi as she wanders over that directon.

From afar, Kaz mutters, "Doesn't mean we can't call him that /ourselves/..."

Yi smiles sweetly. Perhaps, too much so. Ne~! "Fine fine... everyone wants to be a dragon. Don't think you do that tongue thing either. Kssssss." Yi apparently has been watching too much Disney, again.

Kristine's head bobs up and down as if there's a rhythm to his introduction. "Austere Howl, eh? I think that's where Brigid's from, I'll have to ask her. Reminded, talk to your sister." She taps her chin as she makes this rather..um..out loud self-reminder then she turns a smile up to Donovan, "Well, it's a pleasure making you're acquaintence Mr. Rothwell, or would you prefer Donovan? Just let me know. I try to make my people happy and comfortable during their time here." She clasps her hands audibly together, "I take it you've already met Brittany. That's good. She's much better at holding affairs of the state, if you know what I mean." She frowns slightly, as if concentrating, then she smiles again, "Wonderful. Right. I'm Kristine Vaughn-St. David. Stands-By-Her-Own, or, if you prefer a much shorter form, which many do, it's simply Stands-Proud," And by the way she holds her self, she definately earns -that- deed-name, "I'd tell you the others, but they'd probably make you laugh and I hate to pass off as a clown. I'm Elder Theurge of the Silver Fangs here, A Cliath, and plain and simply--Elder of the Silver Fangs here."

You paged the room with 'Damn Fangs and their 0 size font on business cards.'. From afar, to the room, Kristine blames it on the Peanut Butter Cup Coffee Mixer thing!

Brittany returns from the kitchen, where she seems to have turned into a veritable whirlwind, having fixed her hair, straightened her clothes, and generally adjusted herself just so, in addition to fetching another four coffee mugs, a pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator, along with several glasses, and, on a second tray, a handful of minature sandwiches, scones, and carrot sticks. First to Eamon, she notes on the return, "I'd be happy to be of any service requested of me, sir," then a short 'pardon me' to Kaz, followed with, "Here we are, sir," to Donovan, "For your drink, or tea if you prefer. I'm sorry for the snacks ... had I known you were coming, I would have prepared a far better meal." She genuinely looks sorroful at how little she has to offer, just now, but hides it quickly once she glances towards Kristine. "Thank you for the delivery, it will go far, indeed." To Donavon, she notes, "When she calls for our next Court, rest assured, we'll make ammends for this dreadful informality."

"Stand By Her Own," Donovan says. Naturally. "It is indeed a pleasure, and well met." He sketches a low bow. "When our s...ister and brother tribes have left, I will tell you why I am here." He bows his head respectfully, and theree is the whirlwind that is Brittany to deal with. Ooooh, scones. But no real tea. "Your hospitality, even if you deem it lacking, is quite excellent, all things considered, my Lady. Do not fret." A small, reassuring smile comes into play here. Coffee's good for now.

Eamon grins his trademark grin at Brit. "Thanks!"

Yi tilts her head at Brittany's stuffy formality towards the Lizard. Her eyes travel from one Fang to the next, and she just shakes her head at Donovan's Sekrit Silver Fang Mode.

From afar, to the room, Donovan sings, "Secret.... SILver /Fang/. Secret... SILver /Fang/..."

Kristine's grin seems to be momentarily plastered as she executes Great Amount of Will (tm) not to bust up in giggles at this Lady business. She ain't nevah been called a Lady b'fore, Pa! She then chuckles and then looks at Yi, "How's it going? Seen Joseph or Sepdet at late? If you do, tell 'em I said 'Hi' please?" She then shakes her head at the coffee, holding her hands up defensively, "Thanks, but no, brittany. I have any more coffee, I'll have to go to the barn because I'd be bouncing off walls so much." She walks over to the bag and begins digging, "I don't know what the current batch of cubs like, but I brought Teen Reading, smutty romance, horror, Classics, y'know, like Dante's Inferno, War and Peace, Homer's Illiad? The latter came from my library, so I may ask for that back."

Kaz gives the three Fangs what can only be an amused look. "If y'all'll excuse me, I have a Kin or two to track down f'my Fostern challenge, so I gotta be gettin' back Citywards. Have a good time gettin', y'know, acquainted, yeah?" She grabs a carrot stick and a scone, before someone has a chance to tell her no, and heads out the back door.

From afar, to the room, Kristine finds that exceptionally funny because Kris is about as 'Secret' as a hurricane.

Kristine parts as she digs, to Kaz, "Hey, stop by my place or give me a ring, I may be able to help. Elan knows how to get a hold of me."

Donovan does his best to ignore the talk of smutty romance and stuff. He nods to Kaz as she goes by, and says, "Thank you kindly, Ear-to-the-Ground, for your aid thus far."

Saluting Kris with a quick flick of her fingers from forehead out, Yi grins back at the Fang elder. Love the informality, as it just might be throwing off all these Ladies and Gentlemen. "See you around, Kaz," she nods towards the galliard as she departs. "I've seen both of my packmates a lot. Robin is doing well too. She's getting bigger. Leonard thinks of twins." Her eyes twinkle with the mention of her pack. "The buffalo are well too... maybe you should stop by the lake sometime. Better than a swimming pool."

Brittany blushes a bit at Donovan, accepting the compliment quietly. To Kristine, she notes, "I'll be sure to keep care of them tomes in question, the Illiad in particular." She seems ready to ask something else, but then shakes it away. "Unfortunately, it will have to wait, as I'll be on patrol again in moments." She colors again, noting, apolgeticly, to Donovan as she turns to begin re-combining the paperwork on the table. "Time has an unnerving habit of getting away from me, justw hen I need it the most."

Kristine turns and seems to visibly brighten at Yi, "That's great! Yeah, I'll make a point to stop by. I'm sure the buffalo are a wonderful site, and I hope Robin doesn't have twins." She smiles, "I'm sure one of Joseph's is going to be a handful enough." She then turns, sobering up a little to nod at Brittany, "I know. I'll see if I can entertain the gent, though, entertaining's not my forte. Remind me to bring Spenser's papers, so you can look at him. I still need to talk to Megan to see if I can bring him here, so you can meet him."

"Time is a steady thing," says 'squire' Donovan. "But always too slow or too fast." That's about as philosophical as he gets for now; an Ahroun can't keep that up for too long. It is, of course, addressed to Brittany.

Yi looks pleased by the prospect of having the Fang elder visit. "Do," she answers as a reply. Then finally she stands up with a smooth grace even in her clumpy boots and moves for the front door. "I have some errands and patrols, but.. you have Dragon-Lizard's company. He has a secret to tell you, so I'll leave you two alone." The Gnawer grins amicably, opening up the front door.

Brittany works hard to make sure she can still face Donovan while cleaning up everything, rather than present a face full of skirt, finally managed to wrangle everything together. "I'm always ready to assist however needed, of course," she says to Kristine, then to Donovan, while a bit of an apologetic smile, adds, "I do hope we can meet again soon. I'm desperate for external news."

"And I for internal news," Donovan replies, inclining his head. Now he eyes Yi. He doesn't glare. He doesn't smile. He simply looks.

Kristine smiles a bit to Brittany, "I'm going to see if I can 'rent' out the Half Moon Pool and hold..'Court'..so our Guardian bretheren may attend as well." She lifts her hand and smiles to Yi, "I'll be seeing you, Luna light your path."

Yi tilts her head back at Donovan to return his Look with a sweet smile. "If you need external news, there's always the city Garou.. you know. One Gnawer ragabash can only do so much, tracking down sept alphas and talking to them, organizing tribal moots, fighting off Wyrm while others drink coffee, eat scones and share secrets..." She trails there with a wry grin, and disappears after with a short clumping from the porch as the door swings closed and a whistle of a song comes floating faintly in her place, only to fade away with her departure.

"I look forward to hearing a tale of what you fight this evening," Donovan says blandly to Yi. "Thank you kindly for all your aid thus far." Yeah, he said the same thing to Kaz.