Balance. Poise. Concentration. Standing from one of the low branches of the Story Tree, Yi moves herself one foot after the other closer to the edge of the branch. It tilts precariously, but the ragabash doesn't look worried. A small shoulder bag lies at the trunk base, with a Chinese-English dictionary left open.

"..you ever considered a career with the circus, Yi-rhya?" The words are called over as Quentin makes his way along into the clearing that surrounds the Story Tree, his steps carrying him easily along closer, "You'd kick ass on the high-wire."

No, she hadn't. And mostly, because she's too easily distracted. A foot slips, and though she looks about to crack something on a neighboring branch, Yi shoots out a hand and wraps it around a third branch. The second hand reaches around to wrap around the branch. Dangling there, her gaze turns from the imminent danger of falling and down to the ground. "Who's there?" she calls out while looking around. That voice sounds familiar. "Quentin?"

As the ragabash slips, Quentin's steps pause in their tread and he winces with a turn away in case she does fall; glancing back over tenatively, before he heads over at an easy jog. "Um.. yeah, it's me, you alright?"

Yi blinks a couple times as the dusty pine needles and bits float around her, threatening a sneeze. She coughs. "I'm ok," she replies. A quick look, then a plan formulates. A swing, and a catch, and she's back to a more stable branch before working her way down to the ground. Dropping onto good terra firma, the new-moon dusts off her legs and works some needles out of her hair. "I thought it would be good to tell the story next to the Story Tree," she says with a gesture to the squat, large pine. "I do have a question though."

Quentin's expression eases in relief as she makes her way down to the ground safely, one hand raising to brush back through through darksome silk of his hair to get it all straight before continuing his approach. "Shoot," he replies easily, green eyes flickering up over the tree in question.

[Quentin's (homid) desc
Of lean and slender build and skin paled from night's touch, this teenager's stature is far from impressive at a few inches shy of six feet, and in this he could blend easily into any crowd of modern youth without difficulty. A scattering of ebony hair spills forwards to shadow his brow and tickle at the rim of his ears, though the nape of his neck is bare of all save a dark shadow where a razor buzzed all away. The features of his face are slightly sharp in their lines and angles, high cheekbones and an almost pointed chin matched by the straight line of his nose, the eyes that look out of that face a startlingly bright shade of green that glints almost emerald in the right light.
He's dressed in a rather casual fashion, with a few flares of individuality to make him stand out. A hooded jacket of waterproof nylon taffeta falls over his upper body, midnight black in sheen with streaks of deepest blue to add a bit of colour to the garment, its large velcro-closed pockets bulging slightly with a variety of hidden contents. Beneath that can be seen, when the jacket's open or off, of a less glossy black -- a sweatshirt of a warm cotton weave worn slightly loose against his slender frame, but comfortable. His hands are gloved, black leather and polyester mesh offering more of a stylish commentary than actually protecting the fingers within from the elements. A pair of black jeans cover his legs, the tough denim fabric scraped to a paler white at his knees and a few spots near the cuffs where they brush over the edge of hi-top sneakers crusted with mud and dirt from walking outdoors. Green. Green eyes, dammit. I know what color my eyes are. Really.]

Yi shakes off a last dry needle, flipping off some dust from her clothes. "Who gave you this to do? Finding out what happened at the safehouse?" Her chin tilts as she looks up at the tall cub.

"Alicia," Quentin replies with a slight bob of his head, coming to a halt within arm's length of the no-moon and tucking both hands into the pockets of his jacket. A faint curve to his lips, as he explains, "There aren't any galliards left around in my tribe anymore, not near here.. so.. they asked Alicia to teach me how to do my auspice. She told me to do this."

Yi nods at the answer. "A good thing to figure out, how your tribe's last galliard had gone. Roger," Yi pauses, moving over to the tree trunk and nudging the dictionary closed with her foot. "Roger died honorably. He died as he could only hope to have gone." The ragabash indicates that if Quentin wants to sit somewhere, he can. "How do you want me to tell you? I can answer what questions you might have. Most of them, anyway."

Quentin steps over a root protruding through the soil, before easing himself down to sit with his back to the bark of the tree's trunk. A shift to draw both knees close to his chest, arms folding over them as he makes himself comfortably. "I got Renee's side of the story, and Salem's, and John's.." A tip of his head, a few silks of hair brushing down across his brow, "..just.. everything you saw and experienced that night, as best you can remember it."

Pushing away some of her hair, the Gnawer nods. "I will do my best to remember," she tells him. Leaning against the trunk, Yi takes a long breath before starting down the memories from her viewpoint. "There was a large gathering at the safehouse. Cubs, Walkers, Gnawers, even Sepdet-rhya was there. All just talking. At a point... well... I had gone to the upstairs apartments for use of the restroom." Sparing Quentin the embarrassment that rises in her cheeks, the newmoon clears her throat. "And it was me... who first discovered that the Dancers were laying an attack on the safehouse. I saw one of them, laughing like a crazyman, coming up from the toilet. And, at first I was not sure what to do. But my mind came back to me and I yelled out for help."

A tip of Quentin's head, not really any humor found in the monster coming up from the toilet; or maybe he's already heard about it, so got the snickering done another time. He just nods, chin resting against his arms as he watches her face and listens to her words.

"I remember hearing a lot of footsteps coming up from the stairs, but by then I was fighting this attacker. It kept growing and growing out of the pipe, and I remember hearing shouting behind me. That is when dark fell over everyone's eyes. That gift that the Dancers use to make pure darkness, to blind us. Didn't help him though. I killed the Dancer before he had a real chance to shift. He laughed his last laugh then." Yi's expression glints with a bit of triumph. "Roger, John, Leonard, and Kristine the Silver Fang theurge, they were all up there. Maybe some more, but everything was happening fast. John was giving orders, and everyone was expecting another attack like the caern. One of the apartments, I think Sophia's... it was on fire. Caused by another Dancer, a metis I think. It had opened the door and Leonard was fighting with it. There was a large exploding sound. It was Roger's gun. Somehow it had blown up in his hands as he fired some bullets into the Dancer, but it wounded him greatly."

Another nod, and a third as Quentin continues to listen; his expression attentive, almost studious as he tries to commit what she says to memory. Though, no doubt, some of it mingles with what he already knows.

Rubbing one of her arms, Yi swallows down that sick feeling. Remembering what Roger had looked like, even though she'd only gotten a glimpse, was enough. "He didn't die then though. Gaia must have inspired a last, furious fight in him and he got up. He ran straight at the Dancer, claws tearing and with that look of Rage in his eyes. The kind that says he would kill his enemy or die doing it." Letting out a short breath, the Gnawer nods. "And he did. He killed the Dancer. Didn't even die then. As we were upstairs, there were shouts of something happening downstairs too. Fighting was going on down there. It was one hell of an attack." Tightening her lips again, she continues, "But I stayed up there. Hoping that Roger wasn't gone yet. He wasn't. Kristine and I stayed there, and Kristine was going to heal him but he refused it. He knew no healing could save him, and were he to live he would be useless." Here Yi sighs, conflicted but accepting again, the metis galliard's decision. "He told us his last words, and then left to return to Gaia. Died like a hero. That was Roger's death. I do it little justice though. He deserved a galliard to be there."

"What were his last words?" Quentin's head tips a little to one side, a rather sad and wistful look to his expression as he adds quietly, "I wish I could've known him."

There's a long pause before Yi could answer. The words come back, and in a rough Garou tongue she repeats them by rote, ~I am Roger Cohen the third. Howls-Before-Dying. I can see Gaia's light before me and it invites me home... don't rob this from me. I can feel it deep within, my legs do not work... I can hardly breathe. To force me to live on would be to create an abomination of pity. I will not become that. Tell them... Tell them to remember my deeds... the good and the bad. I was a warrior, a poet, an inventor. An insane metis who forgives all who hated him for that fact... because in the end, I fought well and I fought for Gaia and for them. I took nothing, I asked for nothing... and I gave all I had.~ The Gnawer grits her teeth there. "And, he made us promise to him to take back the caern from the Dancers."

A long moment's pause, before Quentin rather sheepishly admits, "Could you.. translate that into English, or write it down? I've only been learning the Mother's Tongue for a couple months."

Yi comes away from that memory to look at Quentin. Perhaps, a little bit of 'you mean you didn't understand that?' glosses over her gaze. Then it dispels and she translates for him. "I am Roger Cohen the third. Howls-Before-Dying. I can see Gaia's light before me and it invites me home... don't rob this from me. I can feel it deep within, my legs do not work... I can hardly breathe. To force me to live on would be to create an abomination of pity. I will not become that. Tell them... Tell them to remember my deeds... the good and the bad. I was a warrior, a poet, an inventor. An insane metis who forgives all who hated him for that fact... because in the end, I fought well and I fought for Gaia and for them. I took nothing, I asked for nothing... and I gave all I had." A pause. "Those were his words. Dramatic. As a galliard he was."

Quentin's lips twitch just a bit in a sad smile as he listens to the last words of Roger, and he nods just a little. "Yeah," he says quietly, "That sounds like him, from what I've heard.. thank you. It wouldn't be a proper story to remember him without his last words."

Yi nods slowly. "It felt like time had stopped. But every second we wasted, the fight downstairs was still continuing. Then and there I had howled my grief. John came up, and saw his tribe-brother dead, but he couldn't stop then. Still trying to order a counter attack, I suppose. I heard there was a sniper up on the rooftops, with silver shot. I had resolved to take care of this problem... but by the time anybody had gotten to the shooter, they were probably gone. A few of us, Anneka, Alicia and I - we put out the fire in the apartment. Then everyone went downstairs to help the fight. Some came back up the stairs, where the poison gas was not lifting to. The Wyrm seems to like using poison gas a lot." That's a bit reflective.

Quentin grimaces slightly, one hand raising to brush against his throat as though at some less-than-pleasant memory. "Yes," he murmurs dryly, "I've noticed."

"Downstairs, something was releasing poison gas from the basement. From what I heard, Salem and a Fianna, I think it was Eamon-rhya... had gone in to attack it. Everyone else was getting out of the safehouse, either through Umbra or through the streets. John came out with a bomb. One that Roger had made. And it was decided the safehouse would be destroyed to save the Veil." She rubs a part of her neck. "Even then there was some conflict of who would be the detonator. We were not sure how long Roger had set the fuse. Kaz took the bomb and told us all to get out. We did, and she was right after us after throwing the bomb into the basement. We didn't get very far onto the street. And then, the safehouse exploded. Took Roger's body, and the bodies of the two Dancers and whatever was in the basement with it."

Yi casts her eyes to the galliard cub after that, in a way signifying that's that.

"Thank you." Quentin's gaze drops briefly as he nods, then flickers back up as he offers a wan smile, "I imagine that wasn't easy, not a real.. good memory, but thanks. I appreciate it, Yi-rhya."

Yi holds up a hand. "Please, just Yi. And I am glad I could help. Will you be expected to tell this story to Alicia?" she asks him. "If it was not enough, I am sure I could remember more given time."

Quentin shakes his head slightly, "I think I've gotten enough points of view to manage.. and yeah. After her, the tribe." A rueful smile, "Public speaking trial by fire, I guess."

Yi smiles. "You'll do fine," she assures the cub. "If I can remember all that, you could probably tell it far better. It would do Roger a great honor." Sidling back against the tree, Yi looks at Quentin thoughtfully.

Quentin grimaces slightly, his head falling back against the bark. "I hope so," he says quietly, murmuring, "I have to admit, it's kinda.. hard sometimes, like I'm living in his shadow and I never even met him."

Yi turns her gaze to the sky poking around the branches. "You need more confidence in yourself," she points out. "Thinking that you are always underneath someone else's shadow will limit your own talents from coming into the light."

Quentin's lips quirk in a wry expression, gaze raising to watch the treetops of the surrounding forest as he murmurs, "I've never had any talents before, Yi-rhya -- hell, I'm still getting used to having friends."

Yi eyes Quentin with a sideways glance. "You are right. You don't have a talent - can't even lie well." She smirks. "You do have talent. But that is the funny thing. You do not -know- what talents you have. It is talent because of that." Does she make any sense?

A slight squint, as the cub looks back to the ragabash with a confused expression. "..what?"

Yi quirks an eyebrow. At least she thought was clear enough. Well, maybe not. She turns to face him. "It is called 'talent' because it is something inside, right? Something that you cannot touch. Something you can only know, in a bigger sense. You cannot pull out your talent and put it on a table and show it to everyone that way. It will come out on its own, through your actions. So to say you have no talent, is wrong. You just do not know what the talent is, yet." Better?

"I.. guess that makes sense," Quentin replies thoughtfully, shaking his head slightly, "I think, anyway. You're right, though, if I do have something I don't know what it is. How do you know there is any, though?"

Shrugging, Yi pleads the fifth to that. Some things, Quentin will have to find out for himself. The Gnawer stoops to brush off some pine dust and needles from her dictionary and places them in her bag. "If you look around and ask others, they will tell you the same. Maybe it is something that one cannot see for themself."

"I suppose," Quentin allows with a slow shake of his head, fingers pushing against the bark of the tree as he shoves himself to his feet, brushing the ground's dirt from his jeans, "You're right.."

"Confidence," Yi tells the cub. "You need more of it. Not too much of it, like that overblown Jarred. Just enough to know and trust in your own self and skills." She loops the strap over her shoulder. "You're a Glass Walker, a galliard, and a Garou. Those three alone should give you something to be proud of. Especially the last."

"I've got to prove I'm worth calling myself any of those," replies the cub with a slow shake of his head, absently brushing at his hair to order it again in that endless battle of fingers and dark strands. "Before I can take pride in saying so."

Yi nods once. "Well then you have goals to work to, don't you?" she says to him with a wry smile. Not even looking at a watch, the Gnawer glances in the direction of the city. "Are you heading back to the city any time soon?"

Quentin's head bobs in a nod twice, once to both of those questions. "Yeah," he says with a rueful smile, "I do." His hand falls back, surrendering to his hair, and tucks into a pocket as he allows, "I'm going to be heading back in a bit.."

The Gnawer no-moon dips her head in a short bow. "Then I will see you there, after I do a few more things." She turns, about to leave, and then remembers something. "Oh, if you could do me one favor...?"

A pause, as Quentin was about to move out, and he quirks a brow questioningly back to her. "Sure, what is it..?"

"I need to get in touch with Alicia, and Tobin, to tell them about some things I found out about the crazy farm animals," Yi answers him. "I went to the farm where they are coming from and scouted around a little bit."

"I can find 'licia," Quentin says with a slight nod, "I've only met Tobin-rhya once, and it was on the bawn.. not sure where he's usually at." A pause, "Crazy farm animals? I helped Helen-rhya chase off a cow from the bawn.."

Yi looks at the cub. "You were there too? Lyra told me about it. Said she was kicked too. Same cow, maybe? Or different." She shrugs. "Doesn't matter. What is important is to let Alicia and Tobin know about it. Some strange man is carving devil numbers into farm animals and sending them at us."

Quentin's lips quirk slightly, and he nods once. "Yeah, I was there for that.. same cow." A pause, a blink, "Wait.. those weren't just ownership brands? That was some sort of.. magic devil number?"

Yi shakes her head. "I was not there to see the cow or the horse. But scouting the farm, there were no brands on the animals as described to me. And there was the scent of a stranger. One who knew how to cover his scent. A city man at that."

"Mm. I see." Quentin shakes his head a bit, "I'll look 'em up and tell them. Any other info about it you want me to pass on?"

Yi thinks a little bit. "I would tell you the address of the farm, but it is probably a good idea not to run through there with all the animals. And the farmer's family is a little..." she pauses, "... trigger-happy."

Quentin chuckles slightly, bobbing a nod back to her. "Alright. I'll tell them to come talk to you if they want to know where the farm is, then..?"

Yi quirks her lip into a half-smile and nods. "Yes, that they can do. Thank you, Quentin." She half-turns, to make her way back out onto the bawn. "I will see you back in the city."

Quentin's head bobs in an easy nod as he walks along back in a different direction, allowing amicably, "No problem. See you around, Yi-rhya."