"Tell me where a girl learns, in that, to trust _family_?"

[hazlogs]

It is currently 09:32 Pacific Time on Tue Jul 8 2003.

Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 58 degrees Fahrenheit (14 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the north at 8 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.05 and rising, and the relative humidity is 84 percent. The dewpoint is 53 degrees Fahrenheit (11 degrees Celsius.)

Currently the moon is in the waxing Gibbous Moon phase (61% full).

Farmhouse: Hallway and Living Room

All doorways in the front part of the house lead to the front hallway, a J-shaped area with the short tail starting at the stairs, the front door hitting the bottom curve, the doorless opening to the living room halfway up the long side, and the also doorless opening to the kitchen and dining room at the very top. The hall has a simple wooden floor, and decorated with a generic print of soft-colored flowers hanging on the wall to the right of the front door, and a tall table sitting under the print which serves as a place to toss keys. A closet under the stairs serves as a place to hang coats or to toss shoes.

The doorless opening to the living room is halfway up the side of the hall's J, and the word cozy might spring to mind when looking into is, as it seems to radiate comforting vibrations. A long couch sits against the south wall beneath a large bay window curtained only by sheers that manages to obscure the view in but only filters the day's light. A variety of out-of-date magazines are strewn atop a low coffee table; more neatly presented are the plethora of books filling the small bookshelves which line the eastern wall. Three chairs sit about the room, focused inward, to allow group conversations. Large floor pillows are stacked in one corner of the room, except one, which lies carelessly in the middle of the floor, apparently left out the last time it was used.

An opening in the northern end of the hallway allows access to the kitchen and dining room at the back of the house, while carpeted stairs twist up at the other end of the hall, leading to the second floor. A door at the base of the J lets out to the front porch.

Salem's car can be heard driving up the gravel lane and parking itself near the house. The Walker himself enters through the front door a few minutes afterward, hooking his sunglasses.

Luke sits on the couch, a plate with scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast on it in his lap, a glass of orange juice on the coffee table nearby. A glance up at the sound of the door, a polite nod in greeting.

"Good morning," Salem says as he closes the door behind him. His manner is calm, his tone courteous. "How goes it?"

Luke says, "Not bad. Was a nice morning for a workout." Obviously, it's been at least a little while since the workout finished, though, since he's cleaned up afterward. "Yourself?"

Salem smiles thinly. "I've been better. I've been worse, too. Have you seen Leonard recently?" His voice remains very calm, almost casual.

Luke shakes his head. "Not since last week." He doesn't seem particularly surprised that Salem would be looking for him.

Salem tilts his head, favoring his good eye as he studies the Fianna for a moment. "Really." He grunts, taking a seat in one of the chairs. "I suppose that I shouldn't be surprised, after the stunt he pulled."

Luke says, "Or the one you pulled, from what I've heard. You'll allow the Fianna to keep our safehouse in your city, I trust?" The sarcasm at this last is faint, but present.

Salem's eyes narrow for a moment, and then he schools his face to blandness. "Sarcasm doesn't become you, Runs-at-Dawn," he says coolly. "And something tells me that Leonard hasn't told you all the facts."

Luke says "Maybe not, but the fact that you kicked him out of the city -- not just your territory in it, which is your right, but the entire city, comes from more than just Leonard. You overstepped yourself just a bit, there." Genuinely curious, he asks, "Do you really think he's a threat to his own kin?"

"The city is the providence of the Glass Walkers and the Bone Gnawers," Salem says, leaning back and steepling his fingers. "That is traditional, not only here, but in most Septs. Renee has neither objected nor challenged my ruling. And yes, I do. He's threatened to murder Sepdet on numerous occasions, and I've seen Sarah shake in fear in Leonard's presence. Neither has he stopped at physically striking her." He shifts his weight and sits up. "He was angry with her because, Gaia forbid, she was upset that he would murder Sepdet over the Strider's friendship with her. He all but exiled her... but she has a four year scholarship at the college, and through it escaped from reservation life.

"In any case," Salem adds, sitting back again, his eyes intent. "If he _did_ think my ban against him was wrong, the proper thing would have been to get a Judge, as you did in regards to the Mel issue. Do you know what he did instead?"

Luke says "I'll trust you to come to Layne or myself before trying anything of the sort on any Fianna, should the situation arrive. If it had just been telling him to leave the area, I'd have no issues with it. Simple matter of dominance, then. But one thing you should understand better than most is that different tribes have different values. The person that raised their hand against one of my kin damn well better be prepared to pay for it. But you don't have any right to decide what those values are, even when you disagree with them. I don't really agree with the fact that he was willing to go to the city and take her back against her will, if that's what he had to do, personally. But it would also be a Wendigo tribal matter, and as tribal elder, his decision to make."

Luke adds, "Believing him to be a danger to her changes thing, but then it becomes a sept matter, not something that can be kept between the two of you."

Salem opens his mouth, then closes it as Luke continues. He grunts. "Then it's a Sept matter. Because she's not the only person he's a danger to. There's still the fact that he'll murder another Sept member if his kin so much as _talks_ to her. There's the fact that he disrespected Renee at the church and showed no contrition for it. There's the fact that he hunted on my doorstep without so much as a by-your-leave, and again showed no contrition. And there's the fact that he took advantage of my kin's generosity, lured him out to the farmhouse under the pretence of needing a ride to the bawn, then beat him unconscious, stripped him, and dropped him down a fifteen-foot hole with little more than a bottle of water." Again, the Walker sits forward, not quite so calm as earlier but still keeping a tight grip on his temper. "Leonard is a menace. He cares about _nothing_ but his _own_ pride and his _own_ tribe, he will _not_ listen to any reason that goes against his own, and I have seen nothing about him that leads me to believe that he would not repeat this kidnapping stunt, or worse."

Luke looks surprised for a moment, and then grimaces. "So _that's_ what he meant." He shakes his head, reaching up to rub his temples with thumb and middle finger, letting out a sigh. "Bloody hell." He nods. "Yes, it's a sept matter, then. I don't think there was much that was going to stop it all coming up at the moot in any event. Sarah's long gone, and Sepdet can take care of herself, even if she were around right now, so those two aren't an immediate concern, at least."

Salem rests his elbows on the arms of his chair, fingers entwined. His expression is grim. "Yes. Sarah's safe. And Leonard, I assume, is hiding out somewhere until the Moot." A touch of derision creeps into the Walker's voice.

Luke says "I assume you'll be asking Robert-rhya to oversee things personally, as acting Master of the Challenge? Or will you be seeking out a mutually agreeable Philodox?"

Salem's mouth thins. "Difficult to agree on a Philodox when the other party is too cowardly to face me," he notes, that hint of derision more noticeable. "Robert it will have to be... or Kaz, who will be claiming the Master of the Challenge position, along with Lyra."

Luke suggests, "You might also consider speaking with Layne. She's Philodox, and not being one of the city tribes, he might find her more acceptable than Kaz or Lyra." A shrug. "Up to the two of you, or whoever ends up Master of the Challenge."

Salem nods once. "I'll keep that in mind." Sitting back, he changes the subject somewhat. "Mel, by the way, is doing well. This recent incident hasn't made her particularly happy, of course, but it certainly puts _you_ in a better light by comparison." He smiles faintly; it's a thin enough joke, but no offense meant.

Luke smiles faintly, though there's a whitening of his knuckles around the fork he's holding. And the smile is a little forced, okay more than a little, but what can Salem expect? No offense may have been meant, but Salem's the reason that there _is_ any comparison between the situations. "I'm glad to hear she's doing well. I trust you have a thorough knowledge of what it means to be kin to Stag, and that you're passing that along to her."

Salem's own expression doesn't flicker. "I'm doing my best," he replies, getting up. "Naturally, she has a mind of her own. No matter how I put it -- and Kaz, who's more persuasive than me, has spoken with her, too -- she still thinks she's being treated like property." The Glass Walker shrugs. "If she wasn't stubborn, though, she would never have been able to stand my presence. Or John's."

Luke answers wryly, "If she weren't stubborn, I'd be inclined to think you'd fucked up, and that she wasn't really Fianna kin in the first place. But you made the mess, and you'll fix it eventually, too. Because you follow the path of honor."

Salem cocks his head, regarding the Fianna for a moment, one hand resting on the back of his chair. "You're asking a lot from her, to put herself in another's place and view things from another's perspective. Are you able to do the same yourself? Can you understand _why_ she wanted to be left alone? _I_ didn't put that thought in her head."

Luke asks, "Why do you think she's with you still? Why do you think I've stayed away from her, and told the others to do the same? You think I'm _happy_ with that situation? You really think I believe you're qualified to teach someone what it means to be _Fianna_?" He snorts. "But I tolerate all of it. For her."

Salem inhales a breath and lets it out. He speaks evenly. "What you call tolerance, Mel would call a basic right." A mildly rueful look passes briefly across the former Shadow Lord's face. "No, I can't tell her what it means to be Fianna. I _can_ tell her what it means to be a part of a close-knit family of Garou and kinfolk. And I have. But that doesn't change what she wants, or how she wishes to live her life. This isn't the Impergium. Humans are not our chattel, to do with as we please. Their wishes _must_ be respected, as long as it doesn't harm Gaia."

Kaz lopes in the door, grunts at the two men, and lurches headlong into the bathroom. A few minutes later, she emerges, finds the fridge, grabs a Coke, and flops onto a chair, looking cheerful.

Luke says "So, basically, you're saying tribe isn't all that important. That it really doesn't matter. That it's something you can change, just because you want to. Because that is what your way amounts to. Our kin are part of who we _are_. They're our future, if we're going to have one. They have their role, just as we have ours. Fianna fight and die for Gaia. Always will, until there's no more of us left. But we live for our families. They're a big part of what we're fighting _for_. So yes, I do call it tolerance. Because you made a choice to fill a role that shouldn't have been yours in the first place, and it's the rest of us who have to live with the consequences. Of course she trusts you. And there's nothing wrong with that. But if you'd taken her to us as soon as you knew she was our kin, she'd very likely trust us, too. And that's why I was pissed off enough to take it to a Philodox."

Kaz eyes Luke dubiously. She mutters something into her can.

Salem cuts a look over toward Kaz, then turns back to Luke. "Mel's mother lied to her throughout her life. Mel's father beat the both of them, when he wasn't trying to do... otherwise. Tell me where a girl learns, in that, to trust _family_?" He rests both hands on the back of the chair now. "You can _not_ force someone to trust you, or force them to be your ally. Bluntly speaking, if you truly cared for her, you would stop thinking of her as merely 'my tribe, my kin, my family, mine mine _mine_' and start thinking more of her as a person."

Kaz adds, still into her Coke, but less so, "Giving her time also helps. Just time to get to know her, and for her to get to know /you/, before you start going, "Hi, you're related to me, and here are some responsibilities.""

Luke laughs. "And to think, I'd thought that, just maybe, taking things to a Philodox would have shown you that you made a mistake. That you might learn something from it. But you haven't learned a damn thing, have you? You're still just as convinced that you know what's best for everyone as you've always been. No, you can't force trust. But introducing kin to our world is a lot like introducing a cub to it -- you get them to their tribe early, so that trust can be built. And you could have done it, before any promises were made or asked for. Kept it a quiet, safe, meeting of any one of us, with you there." He turns to Kaz, "I'm giving her all the time she wants. That's never been an issue."

Kaz says, "Um, dude? She'd already hung /out/ with her tribe. She left, fully cognizant of why she was leavin'. It /ain't/ the same situation."

Salem's gaze turns flinty, his courtesy several degrees cooller. "Despite being a mere Cliath, Runs-at-Dawn, I do know something of kinfolk and cubs, and the least traumatic way to bring each into our world. And what do to to keep them from turning their back on Gaia forever, or worse. The best Garou hunters are, after all, immune to the Delirium." He straightens up, that Shadow Lord breeding evident in every nuance of body language. "But I see that I'm wasting both our time. Excuse me." He turns to go.

Kaz looks at her Coke, and puts it down. "Salem? C'n I walk with you or somethin'? I gotta talk t'you."

Salem, moving for the front door, says, "Be my guest," without turning back around.

Luke nods to Salem. "Good day." Warm it isn't. To Kaz, "That's not what he told me, when I first brought this to his attention. He did the investigation to find out that she was Fianna kin, he has taught her what that is and what it means."

You step through the front door, letting the screen door swing shut behind you.