8/25/2005
12:50 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Farmhouse: Fields
What once was worked cropland has been, over the last several years, allowed to go to seed, and the result is the natural prarie which has developed, enclosed on three sides by the forest. It covers several acres of land with grasses as high as a person's waist, large enough to be out of earshot of the barnyard but uniform enough that anyone in bipedal form could be seen approaching through it.
The looming buildings of the farm can be seen to the south.
Contents:
Emma
Obvious exits:
BarnYard  

Emma walks through the tall grasses of the fields prairie life. One piece of long dried grass tucked between her lips as hands shift into her back pockets.

Kenneth stands out just off of the assumed center of the field. Shirt off and thrown over his shoulder, the Shadow Lord looks skywards at the wide, clear blue. The crunching sound of grasses breaks his reverie, and the philodox turns to look in the Get's direction. For that one moment, he stares intensely towards her.

Emma is day dreaming it would seem, or perhaps just unconcerned if someone sees her mulling about. A deep breath is taken, exhaled and then her hands come up to rub over her thickening hair. It's all back now, and almost tipping to shoulder length.

[look Emma]
5'2" of youthful energy packed up into a body all too willing to use it. Emma would be described as pretty if she were cleaned up and dressed the role, but all too often the scrapping tomboy paints herself with bruises instead of blush.
Somewhere in her mid-teens, her features are strong but decidedly feminine. High cheekbones and full lips work well to compliment her almost button nose and deepset eyes, while dark, ash blonde hair frames her face. While not straight, it is not curly either, and untied it reaches down past her shoulders. Her eyes are a cool blue, reminiscent of a bright summer day - but like the weather they seem to hold an amount of unpredictability. There is a hardness to her gaze, and while her smiles can be warm and sincere, they are well guarded.
Her posture is an odd mix of insecurity and confidence -or at least what might be confused as confidence. She seems surefooted and comfortable with herself, but exudes a certain edginess to those she might see as a source of ridicule.

It must be an utter lack of recognition. "Can I help you?" Kenneth calls out, piercing the summer afternoon with a gruff question.

Emma draws her eyes down from the sky and towards the voice. "Am I not allowed to fucking walk through here without your permission?" The reply is in an even, almost casual tone, despite the harsh words.

"Maybe," Kenneth answers abruptly, the Get's tone received poorly. In contrast, his one worded retort is harsh. Strained. He starts forward towards the girl, black eyes riveted upon her until he has approached close enough to make out the more distinguishing features of the Get. "Huh. You're... Brom's an' Dillen's tribemate." Close enough. It takes another beat of neutral staring before he adds, "Emma, right?"

Emma gives the other an odd look. "Uh yah. What happened to your head that you don't know that?" The piece of straw is moved from one side of her lips to the other.

Kenneth snorts, arms folding over his thinner built chest. Through the thin straps of his tanktop, a recently healed, still raw looking puncture-like scar peeks out. "I just haven't seen you in a long time, that's all." He turns, looking forestwards, a hand coming up to rub at his neck.

Emma chuckles, "Yeah ok. Guess not anyway. Haven't seen any of your pack in a while, except Brom. What's the scar from?" she asks with sincere interest.

"Hn?" Kenneth glances back, eyes following the ahroun's down to his shoulder. "This?" He narrows his eyes balefully at the scar. "From what I was told... a real bitch of a tree-spirit. I don't really remember much after we started fighting some buffalo spirit in the Umbra, 'til when I woke up in bandages. Doesn't look like it's goin' away. Fucker."

Emma wrinkles her nose, "Buffalo huh? Nice. Coulda been worse I suppose." She spits the bit of straw out then, and uses her finger and thumb to grasp away a remaining strand. "How's the pack?"

Kenneth looks up from the scar, his displeased scowl dissolving into a calmer, but colder mask. "S'fine, I guess. Kevin from the Walkers is the newest one to get his ass kicked by Snaekolfr." The Shadow Lord's gaze flickers slightly. "You?"

Emma lifts a shoulder, "Same old same old. Signe is off popping babies I think. Gunnar is Gunnar, Nat is Nat. Whatever. How's Kevin doing in there?"

Kenneth shrugs his shoulder, though a slight grimace indicates his soreness. "I meant, how's the city, now that Requiem ain't out there all the time. But I guess you an' the Walkers have it handled." And speaking of Walkers... "Kevin's... He's still breathin'."

Emma laughs, "Amazing. Don't know what to make of that one. Sometimes I wanna kick his ass, and sometimes I think he made the right choice. City is fine, nothing big going on."

"Just fine?" Kenneth looks back, expression doubting. "I don't think the city's ever fine. What about that shit about the hospital?"

Emma lets out a breath, "Is fucked up, like the rabies outbreak and all the other shit. What the hell we supposed to do about it? Ya wanna one man the operation? Even if we took the whole caern, we'd accomplish nothing."

Kenneth smirks. "So you're just gonna sit back 'n wait for more help, or you actually doin' something about it?"

Emma tenses her lips, "I am working with the help. I got cubs I'm looking after. And no, I am not going to rush in there like a damned fool and count us down another warrior."

Kenneth nods once, seemingly satisfied like a cat who's found a sunny spot. "Who's your cubs?" he asks after another bit of silence, gaze turning elsewhere from the ahroun.

"Maggie and Poe, who has only been napped for about a week or so. Got Leif too who has been working with Brom mostly." Emma sniffs a bit and kicks a bit of dried dandelion out of boredom. "What are /you/ guys doing about it?"

"About what," Kenneth asks, "the city?" His eyes turn back. "Same thing we did when we were in it. If someone's got issues, we take care of it. Make some war."

Emma grunts, "Yeah, ok." She shrugs and looks back towards the farmhouse, "Well I got shit to do. I suppose I'll see you around."

Kenneth tilts his chin slightly, acknowledging the Get as she starts on her way. "Later," the philodox puts forth. "Don't have too much fun out there without us."