Ground Rules and Good Advice

[hazlogs]

It is currently 17:27 Pacific Time on Sun May 8 2016.

Currently in Saint Claire, it is mostly sunny today. The temperature is 62 degrees Fahrenheit (16 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the southwest at 16 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.95 and falling, and the relative humidity is 42 percent. The dewpoint is 39 degrees Fahrenheit (3 degrees Celsius.) For more detail, see: http://www.wunderground.com/cgi-bin/findweather/getForecast?query=98501

Currently the moon is in the waxing New (Ragabash) Moon phase (13% full).

Edgewood House: Meadow(#1390RJh)

A long, hard-packed dirt road winds almost a mile through the forest off Sunrise Road, eventually opening out into a small front yard, and coming to a stop in front of a large house, which may be the very definition of ramshackle. The house is not visible from the road, nor can one hear anything but perhaps a gunshot. Its foundation and general structure are solid, but its once crisp grey-and-white paint needs updating, and some of the trim is having trouble staying attached. A fixer upper, one might say. Off to the left, there's a former garage, long since converted into something of an in-law apartment. A connecting flyover attaches it to the second floor of the house.

There are no fences surrounding either the front or back yards. In the rear of the property, the yard (larger than in the front) eventually comes up against a well built garden, with the very beginnings of sprouts. Shaded and obscured by surrounding trees, there is a small (but deep) natural pond, with a chuckling brook leading out of it, into the woods. There's a rope swing hanging from one of the trees. The yard to the southeast of the property stretches on for a time, and then is eaten by woods, into which there may or may not be a path; it apparently fades away quickly. There's a certain looming feel to these woods.

It's certainly quite the hike from where Turtle has once more anchored the old houseboat he bought from Nick along the river--illegally, for sure--to what he's referred to as 'Edgewood', but long hikes and Turtle tend to go hand in hand. It's just this one, this time, he makes entirely in the scruffy faced human form, at an easy but ground eating pace that might well leave those with shorter legs behind unless they rush. He slows down as they arrive, becoming noticeably more wary and more thoughtful. If he were in fox form, his ears would be pricked high, but he still somehow manages the look, the posture, that's probably quite familiar to her.

A man that looks to be in his early to mid forties, Thomas stands at just a hair under six feet. His features are predominantly Asian (Korean, to those who can tell the difference), with almond shaped eyes dark enough to appear almost black, low eyebrows, and a slightly crooked nose. His skin color speaks mostly toward his mixed heritage; it's darkly bronzed and weather beaten, with laugh lines crinkling near the corners of the eyes. His hair is a silky black, worn long and pulled back into a neat ponytail. He also sports a goatee, kept only long enough to be somewhat bristly to the touch, the black liberally laced with a smattering of grey hairs. The man's build is lean and compact, and he carries himself with a certain athletic grace that's unmistakable.

He appears to favor simple collared shirts of various types (usually black or white), and loose fitting, well worn jeans and hiking boots, but above all, he seems quite attached to a long brown oiled canvas duster. Even in warm weather, he's rarely seen without it. Occasionally, he pairs this with a brown fedora so battered and used that it might actually appear older than the man wearing it. He's wearing what looks like small, hematite beads around his neck, but most of the necklace is tucked under his shirt and out of sight.

Rabbit is well past the 'trip over her own legs' stage of learning her other forms, but being human's still quite a novelty -- enough that the effort in making such a /long/ walk in one doesn't do a bit to dim her enthusiasm. She tries mimicking her father's wariness, but she's far too excited and eager, like a kid just /waiting/ for the chance to tear into Christmas presents.

This cute teenage girl's a skinny little thing, a bit under five and a half feet tall and all arms and legs. Her straight black hair is short, thick, and messy, with overlong bangs that curtain over her small, dark, almond-shaped eyes. She's got a small round button of a nose, lightly bronzed skin, and dirt under her fingernails.

Her clothing tends toward the rough and ready -- blue jeans and t-shirts and sneakers, mostly. She also has a tan canvas jacket with several pockets.

Thomas gives Rabbit a small, whiskery sort of expression--a smile--once he finishes surveying the open--and currently empty--meadow. Okay, he says, in that strange, mostly incomprehensible-to-anyone-but-Kitsune language he's been trying to teach her. So many languages lately. So many words. Remember, good behavior. If anyone in there starts looking angry, leave or find a nice, small place entirely out of their reach.

It's fortunate that Rabbit loves words, loves all the strange new noises. Good behavior, nice to wolves, leave or hide if they show teeth. She half sing-songs it, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

Thomas flashes her another smile--no, a grin, 'grinnnnn'--and turns back front. He heads for the house across the meadow at his previous pace, whistling as he goes. He's always making noises like that in this form. Sometimes they come with words, but not today it seems.

Rabbit purses her lips and blows -- pfft pffffffft -- but whistling is still far too advanced magic for this young fox. Much easier is when you stick your tongue out too and -- pbbbpbpbpbpbpt.

Thomas whistles along with her attempts regardless, as if she were providing an accompanying melody, and they make their way across the meadow. When they reach the door of the unknown house, and find that they still have the place to themselves, he stops whistling and starts up his words again. This is called Edgewood House. The only people that come here are Wolves and Wolf family, but you should be careful around strange people anyway until you know they aren't humans that got lost. Humans do that. Usually they can feel the Wolves enough to stay way, but not always. He opens the door, then opens it a bit wider and gestures her inside.

Rabbit gives an exaggerated nod and heads in, touching the doorframe as she goes. Her tongue's still sticking out a little, like she forgot it.

Edgewood House: Downstairs(#2007RAJh)

The front door leads into a small mudroom; coats are hanging on hooks. It opens into the spacious, well lit living room, with several battered old couches arranged into a sort of conversation pit facing the fireplace, a table in the center of them. There are a few chairs, some straight-backed, some plush and comfortable, arranged to make secondary conversation areas, with little end tables placed in strategic locations. There's a notable absence of either breakable objects, or elaborate electrical equipment such as televisions. The walls, painted an increasingly dingy white, have some sweeping dark fabric prints on them, but no paintings or posters. A steep, uncarpeted staircase leads up to the second floor. There are several doors that lead out to other sections of the house, as well. (+view for details)

This is where people put their weather things, Thomas explains as he steps in behind Rabbit, indicating the coat racks. He even demonstrates by hanging up his old battered hat (for once). When humans have mud on their feet they wipe them before they come in, so we do that too. Wolves like to sit around this room here and talk. If you can, listen to everything they say. It will help you learn words faster than just listening to me, and it will help you learn all about them too. In there is the place where they eat and make food. And up is where they piss and wash themselves. And over here... There's a smile lingering around his lips as he leads the way again, this time towards the library.

Rabbit takes off her canvas jacket and hangs it up and scuff-scuffs her sneakers. Considers, and then scuff-scuffs them again. Then she follows her father to the library, her eyes going here and there and everywhere.

Thomas presents the library in the manner of someone who has been saving the best thing for last. There are so many /books/. /Everywhere/. But he moves first toward the trunk with board games and toys. We should be careful in this room to put things back where we get them from. But a lot of the Wolves forget it even exists, so on top of what this room has, it's also a good place to hide if they get angry out there. These here are things humans play with. He nudges the trunk with the toe of one boot. Anyone can use them, so you can too if you want.

The library has floor to ceiling bookshelves, and dark wood paneling where there are no bookshelves. The artificial light is soothing and muted. The books consist of what seem to be two different collections, side by side, one leather-bound and ancient, with just about any classic book one might want to name, the other filled to bursting with fantasy books from the 80s onward. It's a pretty comprehensive collection. In addition, there's a little trunk with board games and other toys, a small desk, and a few chairs for ease of reading.

Rabbit squats down next to the trunk and peers inside. Wolves do not play? She spots something fuzzy and reaches to pull it out; it's a worn teddy bear wearing a black t-shirt that says '3:16' in white letters. She pushes her nose against its head and sniffs.

Not enough, Thomas replies. They should do it more, but they don't usually like it when you tell them that. Too serious.

Rabbit looks into the teddy bear's adorably serious face, then sets it carefully down on top of the pile inside the trunk. Sad, angry wolves.

Thomas nods slowly. Some of them are very worth knowing though. Sometimes you just have to look and listen hard to find them. He reaches up and selects a book at random, before bringing it down to Rabbit's level as he, too, squats near the trunk. He flips the book open to an equally random page. All of these are filled with words. People put them there so that other people could learn what they had to say. The more words you learn to read, that's certainly a word he's said a number of times, the more you can find out what's in all these books. Some things are stupid. Some are smart. Some you would never have known otherwise. But all of them are important.

Rabbit leans over to peer at the the printed page. Human symbols. I know this one! She points. "Arr."

Thomas grins. That's right. Humans make lots and lots of symbols. Not even they understand them all. We make them too, and Wolves, and Ravens. I'll teach them all to you in time. But I said Ravens. There's a Raven here. You can ask her all sorts of things, and she'll probably answer you. She might get mad, but she won't get mad like the Wolves. I have made her mad plenty of times and she never tried to hurt me. But, He raises a finger. Ravens tell things to everyone. Don't ever tell a Raven something you don't want all the others to know. Some secrets are just ours, but she'll try to learn them from you if she can. It can be a fun game if you're very very careful.

Rabbit grins back at the older Fox. Like keep-away-can't-catch-me!

Exactly. Thomas closes the book and straightens back up to put it away. Her name is Val. She's the only Raven around that I know of, so if a big raven flies up and starts talking, that's her. Or if you meet a young female human with colorful hair who can't stop talking, that might be her too.

Rabbit nods and hops back to her feet. What do Ravens do when they're angry?

Thomas almost laughs, but not quite. Well, this one puffs up and turns funny colors if she's human. If she's Raven looking, then her feathers get all rumpled.

Rabbit gets a little mischievous smile at this. "Pfft pfft." She digs her fingers into her thick mop of hair and fluffs it up. Like this?

Like that, Thomas replies. Don't bother her too much. That 'too much' is clearly deliberate. Ravens are very good to have as friends, or at least people you know. She'll tell you almost anything you want. But sometimes they get a little too serious too. She doesn't have other Ravens to talk to around here, so I think sometimes she's just worked up.

No Ravens, just Wolves, Rabbit muses, scratching her neck. That is very sad.

Thomas nods slowly, but then adds, They bother each other. She knows where others are when she wants them. But she probably wants them here sometimes.

Rabbit makes that little 'pfft' noise with her lips again. I will try not to make her angry /too/ often, then.

Thomas flashes another grin. Good. What questions do you have about this place?

Rabbit thinks for a bit. Can I hunt in the woods here? Or will the Wolves be displeased?

Yes, Thomas says. Just be careful. The woods around here can have a mind of their own. And I told the Wolves about you, but some of them might not have heard, or won't remember about foxes. Mention me if you get into any kind of trouble, if you have a chance, and if not, run very fast.

Rabbit nods. Run fast, hide, get in a small place. Also extra careful when the moon-lady is large.

You've got it, Thomas says approvingly. Now. Can you lead me back to the boat on two legs?

I don't know! the fox kit says cheerfully. Let's see! She heads for the door, grabbing her jacket off the hook in the mudroom on the way.

Thomas follows after, sweeping his own hat onto his head as he goes.