"If she can make me laugh, she deserves the rank."

[hazlogs]

It is currently 20:11 Pacific Time on Mon Jul 7 2003.

Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 65 degrees Fahrenheit (18 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the southwest at 8 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.86 and steady, and the relative humidity is 67 percent. The dewpoint is 54 degrees Fahrenheit (12 degrees Celsius.)

Currently the moon is in the waxing Half Moon phase (57% full).

Bawn: Central Forest(#2876RA)

The forest is dark and quiet. No, not quiet. Listening. The ancient firs rear up all around, branches interwoven in a dense roof of dark green. Fallen needles lie in a thick carpet on the ground, heaped up around the drifts of undergrowth clinging to the scarce patches of light reaching the forest floor. Every sound seems muffled, and the sharp scent of pine hangs in the air like the clouds of midges that swarm ceaselessly beneath the branches. Even the many deer who roam here seem to step more quietly than usual, and the songbirds seldom sing.

The forest spreads out around you in all directions.

Kaz, having been at least slightly forewarned, does not, in fact, start. She just cranes her neck upwards, and proceeds to eat the fry, bit by bit. "Yeah, that'd be you, boss. You got a sec?"

Salem pads through the bawn in lupus, following the city-scent of his fellow urrah.

"Sure," comes the baritone answer from up in the tree. "How much more than a second do you need?"

Kaz considers. "I dunno," she says, maneuvering so she doesn't have to crane her head as much. "It's about a Challenge, and I figure you're the guy to talk to."

The Glass Walker, coming within hearing of this, perks his ears at the word 'challenge' and arrows his path toward Kaz and Robert. Salem shifts back to human form as he steps into view.

Leaves rustle and branches creak as the Gaian shifts his weight, then leaps down, rolling to absorb the impact rather than shifting. "Okay, you have my attention," he says calmly. He gives Salem a glance and a nod before looking back to Kaz.

Salem inclines his head toward the Athro Child of Gaia, then leans against a nearby tree, arms folding across his chest. He says nothing, apparantly content to wait, for the moment.

Kaz immediately leans against a tree. "Ok, so I left. Then everyone else left. Poof! Anyhow, so I'm back, and then Renee Challenged me, and I figure she's kind of ready for it, so I gottan idea, only it's kind of not real traditional, but hey, neither am I, so should I toss it at you and let you scoff at it?"

Robert deRath looks to be somewhere in his late 30s, perhaps early 40s, though his almost completely silver hair makes him look older at a first glance. He stands somewhat about average height, though his wide shoulders almost make him look short proportionally. His dark eyes gaze calmly over the area, flowing from one point to another easily, only rarely jerking or darting. His mood seems to be cheerful enough as he occasionally flashes a smile at a person, or as he notices something. He's wearing a simple white loosely flowing long-sleeved shirt under a black leather vest, with a black pair of jeans beneath. Around his waist is a black-and-white snakeskin belt, and a pair of black hiking boots are on his feet.

Robert raises an eyebrow. "I'm always willing to entertain somewhat ... unorthodox ideas," he offers, if somewhat warily.

"Well," Kaz explains, "Renee's all good with the leadin' her own tribe and figurin' out shit to do and stuff, but she's not so good with dealin' with people she don' like, or who don' like /her/. She's also not so good with the storytellin'. Anyways, so, I was figurin' maybe she could tell him--" here, she jerks a thumb at Salem, who she has otherwise not acknowledged-- "some kinda story that'd make him laugh, wholeheartedly. Which, if you know him at all, is practically impossible. If you think that ain't enough, I could add some shit on about some other kinda task, too. Make it a daily double."

Salem's eyebrows go skyward, reaching for his hairline. He blinks at Kaz, once, then turns his eye toward Robert.

Robert tilts his head to one side, then nods slowly. "I like it," he admits. "And perhaps she will learn a lesson from it."

Kaz nods. "That was kinda my hope. I mean, I think she's ready, but I also think mosta the Sept'd eye me warily when I say that. So. This thing's somethin' she's gotta /earn/." She shrugs. "So I'll tell her at Moot?"

"Ingenious," is Salem's opinion. He straightens up from his lean, arms unfolding.

Robert nods. "That will work," he says, "as long as all agree it is to be an actual /test/, and not some sort of 'gimme'. Do you agree?" he asks, turning towards Salem.

Salem snorts. "If she can make me laugh, she deserves the rank." The Walker's tone hints that he doubts she'll be able to succeed. "Speaking of challenges, Robert-rhya, I rather need to talk to you about mine."

Kaz leans back against the tree, relaxed. "I gotta nother question, after he's done."

Robert nods to Kaz, then turns his attentin back to Salem. "I'm sure you do," he agrees. "Shoot."

Salem clasps his hands behind his back, his manner solemn. "Last Moot, I challenged Susan for Rank. Since then, of course, she's left with her pack, but she gave me a task before she left, and made arrangements with Nightfire to handle it in her absense." He looks rueful. "Since then, Nightfire and _his_ pack have retired to Wolf Woods, and one of the Garou who Susan had chosen to be a part of my challenge, Jarred, has fallen out of contact."

Kaz hasn't heard much of this; she straightens, slightly.

Robert raises an eyebrow, but nods slowly. "Very well."

Salem's mouth thins. "Yes. I admit that I'm at something of a loss."

Kaz takes a step forward. "I dunno about th' /Susan/ part, but as f'people bein' part've y'challenge... I'm a Galliard, an' I'm a Fostern. I ain't Jarred, it's true, but..."

Robert's eyebrow arches higher. "Convenient," he says.

Kaz shrugs. "I'm all f'reasonable solutions."

Salem glances sidelong over at Kaz, studying her for a moment, then looks at Robert again. "That _would_ be convenient... though a fourth is still needed, to be chosen by the Master of the Challenge." He exhales a sharp breath. "I don't suppose that Susan or Nightfire passed along the terms of the challenge?"

Robert smiles somewhat wryly at the question. "No, though I could probably go deep into the woods to get it out of Nightfire, if I have any Guardians to speak of."

Kaz says, "Well, yo. I'm stickin' til after Moot, so if you want me to..."

Salem grunts. "That's not necessary, if you don't mind hearing the terms from _me_."

"I'll listen from you, certainly," the Warder replies, "though I'll probably also send a messenger for Nightfire, if only for the sake of formality."

Salem inclines his head. "Understood. The challenge is as follows. Susan has asked me to judge Andrea for leaving the caern in order to answer the call from her mother, the Mage. I'm to present my judgement at the next moot, before the Sept and before a panel of four Garou. Helen, a Ragabash chosen by random chance. Lyra, a Philodox chosen by the Beta of my tribe. Jarred was the third, and the fourth was to be another Philodox, chosen by the Master of the Challenge. The panel has free rein to question, and if they agree that my judgement is just, I pass."

Robert nods slowly. "Very ... interesting," he says. "And you need another Philodox. Hm."

Kaz says "Could double shit up. I understand Jamethon's lookin' to Rite Kansas..."

Salem cocks an eyebrow at Kaz's suggestion, then looks to see what Robert has to say about that.

Robert shakes his head. "I think James had a different idea for that. Besides which, it's supposed to be his Challenge, not her Rite. It would be difficult to test both at once without making the test that she merely speak and vote." He frowns slightly, thinking about the choices.

Kaz just nods.

"There's K.C.," Salem says, "but she's a Glass Walker and not yet a full member of the Sept."

Robert shakes his head. "I'd prefer a full member of the Sept," he admits.

Kaz suggests, "Got a couple ex-packmates've mine... Matt, Anneka..." She trails off.

Salem thinks a moment, his eyes narrowed. "Or Layne, if she's still around."

"If," the Athro ahroun agrees. "I'll ask about somewat and see whom I can scare up before the moot."

Salem inclines his head. "Thank you."

Kaz straightens again.

Robert nods back to Salem. "You're welcome," he replies before looking once again to Kaz. "You said you had something else?" he asks, running a hand through his silver-grey hair.

Kaz nods. "Yeah." She's suddenly the picture of mostly-submissive. Not quite looking at him, slouching just a touch. "There's this thing. Like, specifically, that there's like no one in any official Caern positions, practically. I'm assumin' you're gonna keep bein' Warder, or Alpha, or what have you... An' if you do /that/, I presume you ain't gonna wanna be Master of the Challenge? /If/ you're not, then I gotta ask you, as one of those Official People that pays attention to tradition and shit, what would you think people's reaction to a shared Mastery of the Challenge would be? Because I can't be here all the time. I can't. I got kids down south I gotta take care of. But /some/ of the time, I can be... And when /I/ ain't here, /Lyra/ could do it..." She trails off. "Now, 'course, Layne might want it or something, and people can f'damn sure Challenge f'th' position, I'm just feelin' you out, is all."

Salem shifts his weight, standing up straighter. The Walker's gaze sharpens slightly, a touch of calculation in his otherwise neutral expression.

"The buck has to stop somewhere, especially for something as important as Master of the Challenge," Robert notes firmly. "The Garou cannot have a possible Mommy/Daddy situation with something like that. Now if you wished to have the position, and wanted Lyra to help you, that might be possible. Still, the ultimate responsibility would be yours."

Kaz nods thoughtfully. "Kinda an apprentice situation," she says, tentatively. "I take it, then, you /ain't/ gonna keep it?"

Robert snorts. "Preferably not," he replies. "I have plenty on my shoulders as it is, and we have enough Garou here that it /should/ be a separate office."

Kaz nods. "Yeah. Ok. I'll talk to Lyra, an' if we hash somethin' out we can both agree on, I'll... stand up at Moot an' show my chutzpah f'all t'see."

"What position _will_ you be taking, Robert-rhya?" asks Salem quietly. "Do you intend to stand as Alpha?"

Now it's Kaz's turn to shut up and look intently interested.

Robert raises an eyebrow. "I am planning on serving this sept and this caern as best I can and as I am needed for the time being," he observes.

Kaz slumps a touch.

Salem cocks his head, regarding the elder Garou in a calculating way that manages to keep from stepping over the boundaries of courtesy. "That's... quite vague, sir. If you don't mind me saying." His tone is more than a little wry.

"Perhaps more practically and to the point--I have problems keeping Guardians. Do you honestly think anyone currently at this sept has the dedication and wherewithal to serve as Warder, constantly protecting the bawn, instead of going of in their own little directions?" the Gaian observes.

Salem rubs at his chin a bit, arms across his chest. He shakes his head. "Your dedication as Warder is unquestioned," he says mildly.

Robert returns a somewhat wry smile. "That's ... quite vague. If you don't mind my saying."

Kaz mutters, "I will not butt in. I will not butt in..."

Salem's mouth twitches, acknowledging the answer with a wry almost-smile. "Bluntly speaking, I plan to claim the Alphaship of this Sept." His chin tips up slightly, and for a moment he meets the Athro's eyes. "But not if you claim it for yourself. Sir." His gaze drops at this, respectfully.

Kaz stops muttering; a grin rises, slowly, on her face.

"You realize," the Athro ahroun observes, "that as soon as a cliath--or even a new fostern, in the best of cases--claims Alphaship of this sept, he becomes a target for every adren within a 300 mile radius, or probably more."

Salem's shoulders rise and fall. "If that happens, so be it. Until then, the Sept needs an Alpha."

Kaz eventually salutes the two and fades into the brush.