Christmas

[hazlogs]

It is currently 23:41 Pacific Time on Wed Dec 25 2002.

Currently in Saint Claire, it is raining lightly. The temperature is 43
degrees Fahrenheit (6 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in
from the southwest at 10 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.79 and
rising, and the relative humidity is 93 percent. The dewpoint is 41
degrees Fahrenheit (5 degrees Celsius.)

Currently the moon is in the waning Half Moon phase (56% full).

Setting: The Bawn

Adrian follows along, tagging after Catherine.

Catherine wanders through the treeline, glancing back every so often to
the Get cub following her, getting into the woods far enough that a change
won't be spotted by someone outside, before crouching down and making her
way through to Lupus, muzzle lowered to sniff somewhat at her surrounds.

Adrian follows suit, shifting as well, he seems to do it with some
practiced ease.

As the cubs shift to wolf form, the scents of the woods come alive about
them in a way that no human nose can ever appreciate. Tree and bush, earth
and bird, rabbit and squirrel... and a whiff of cigarette smoke, carried
by the night-time wind, from somewhere in the southwest. Not far.

Stonehenge pads over to a tree and uses the bark to brush out his fur a
bit.

Silent-Stalker raises her head, sniffing thoughtfully. Mrm. Glancing to
the Get cub, she muses, Smell that? Dosen't smell like prey. Maybe check
it out?

Stonehenge gives a bit of a chuff, agreeing with teh plan. He pads over to
her.

Silent-Stalker takes a moment longer to get a really good idea of the
smoky scent, then begins heading that way. Not at a run, no, not at the
mad dash she'd come out for, but instead a casual lope. Though not as
quiet at this speed as she is when she's walking, she still manages to
make very little sound, living up to her Auspice.

Stonehenge follows along, keeping up to the pace. He watches everything,
as if taking notes. He looks at her with a cocked head. Smells like smoke?

The scent is easy enough to follow; the acrid man-made smell of processed,
burning tobacco is a clear one, invisible but still a clearly-marked trail
for the nose to follow. It leads to a particularly massive old sequoia, a
huge elder of a tree that survived the tree-massacre that the Dancers of
the past summer inflicted on the Sept's Bawn. There, sitting crosslegged
in the lee, out of the wind, leaning back against the wide trunk, is the
smoker -- Jack Salem, bundled well in coat and gloves and scarf, all
black. He shows no sign of noticing the cubs' approach; his expression is
distant, pensive.

Damn, Stalks-in-Silence manages to communicate, to the Get following her.
Though it's not a very lupine expression, the cant of her ears and
lowering of her tail says it all. Still, mom would thunder if she was
caught being too disrespectful, so she circles around the tree until she's
sure the Elder can see her, offering a timid, -rhya.

Stonehenge pads along and sees Salem and stops in his tracks, a bit timid
of the Elder. He chuffs a bit, a bit annoyed they couldn't just pad away
from one who gives his paws such pause.

The Walker's gaze focusses on the lupine shapes before him. His face, what
can be seen of it in the dim half-moon light, isn't particularly
encouraging. Neither, though, does it seem especially hostile. He regards
them both, the cigarette burning between two gloved fingers, and offers up
a flat, "Good evening. And merry Christmas, if it is, still."

Stonehenge is a young grey wolf. His coat shines with good grooming.
Muscles can be seen developing beneath his coat. His golden eyes have
small flecks of blue about the edges. He watches you and takes mental
notes of all you do.

Silent-Stalker chuffs softly, a little surprised at the offering, even if
it is somewhat flat. Happy.....winter time, she manages, unable to quite
get across the idea of Christmas, though her tail wags hopefully. She
glances back to the other cub, rumbling a brief, come on!

Stonehenge pads forward reluctantly, he chuffs just as hesitantly. Merry
Christmas Salem-rhya. The Get stays visably respectful and submissive to
Salem.

"Taking a late-night run?" Salem asks, with that same somber, detached
air. He brings the cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply and making the
ember at the end of the filterless cigarette glow more brightly.

Silent-Stalker sniffs a little at the smoke, then lowers her muzzle and
paws at her nose before sneezing violently. Yes. Was hoping to see mice.
Maybe catch one. Can try, though not much good yet, the cub muses, looking
over to Stonehenge. You hunt well?

Stonehenge snorts a bit. Asking a Get if he can hunt well? His hackles
raise a bit playfully, making himself big. Then he "flattens" out. Well, I
try.

Salem exhales a long stream of smoke, looking utterly unapologetic at what
it does to sensitive lupine noses. "The mice are hiding," he says. "From
the cold. From the owls, too, I suspect... but mostly from the cold."

Silent-Stalker lays down, keeping her muzzle lowered so she dosen't catch
too much more of the smoke. Typical, she muses. Can't hurt to run though.
Maybe -rhya join us? she offers politely. Damn her manners.

Stonehenge gives Silent Stalker a bit of a glare, but remains quiet.

Salem's eyes narrow, the muscles in his jaw tightening subtly, but his
voice remains calm and even. "Thank you for the offer, but no. I've had
quite enough of running about on all fours this evening." Calm and even...
but definitely with a faint touch of acid.

Silent-Stalker's ears flatten. You need more fun, the Gaian observes,
before rising up onto her paws again and looking to Stonehenge. Show me
how Get hunt? Want to find mouse.

"So they tell me," the Walker Elder replies to the young Child of Gaia,
dourly.

Stonehenge backs away a bit. We can try, but Salem-rhya is right about the
mice, I think. He never turns his back on the Walker Elder, in fact, he
never takes his eyes off him, though never making eye contact.

Silent-Stalker cocks her head at Stonehenge, muzzle wrinkling a little as
her lips draw back in a lupine smile. Maybe catch something else, then,
she muses, then looks up to Salem. Going now. Gaia keep you safe, she
bids.

Salem's mouth thins at the Get cub, twisting into a slight scowl. He gives
Silent-Stalker a curt nod. "You, likewise."

Stonehenge chuffs a bit, remembering Salem in another mood like this. The
young Get obviously wants to get away as quickly as possible. Goodbye
Salem-rhya. He backs away and out of sight of the Elder. Then he wolfy
sighs a bit.

Silent-Stalker pants quietly and lopes off after the Get, her breath
freezing in the cold air. Run! Fast! she challenges her fellow cub,
snarling playfully as if about to attack.

Stonehenge leaps into action and shoots off to outrun her. Good to be away
from Salem-rhya like that. Sometimes, Salem-rhya not nice.

Silent-Stalker heads after the other cub at full pelt, managing not to
lose too much ground, though she's not gaining either. She's not all that
graceful when running, more ganbolling and scrambling to keep up, rather
than speeding along easily like most of her peers.