"I've met her. She was... rather unpleasant."

[hazlogs]

It is currently 12:06 Pacific Time on Thu Aug 7 2003.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 61 degrees Fahrenheit (16 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the southwest at 6 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.07 and steady, and the relative humidity is 81 percent. The dewpoint is 55 degrees Fahrenheit (12 degrees Celsius.)

Currently the moon is in the waxing Gibbous Moon phase (65% full).

The caern.

Salem pauses at the base of the trail down into the caern, taking a moment to soak in the atmosphere.

At the center, Helen is standing near the white stone cairn, examining it with no particular interest. Arms folded, she stands and waits.

Salem takes in a deep breath, lets it out, and then focusses on the young Black Fury. "Cycle-Breaker, good afternoon. I was hoping to speak to you."

Helen turns to the sound of Salem's voice. She nods. "I wanted to talk to you, too," she says, and then hastily adds, "Salem-rhya." There's a pause, and she goes on: "I'm sure you know 'bout the cub Cat's...er, past life, right?"

Salem nods, mouth twisting into a dour expression. "I've met her. She was... rather unpleasant." He cocks his head, eyeing her. "I heard that she spoke to you."

Nodding again, Helen says, "Yeah. And she, well, asked if I could find a way to help her. I have no idea if there's a way, but I'm not a theurge so I'm not surprised I don't know." She cracks a small grin. "I had a tribesister who had the same problem, but all on a larger scale. It was really bad. She had to go to another caern to get it settled and even then she couldn't deal with it much. And no, I'm not saying, send Cat away! That's my only experience with a past life. Before this Arrows-of-Artemis, 'course."

Salem folds his arms across his chest, still frowning. "Help her. What does she want, exactly?"

Helen says, "To get out of Cat's body and somewhere else." She can't help but laugh, but it's a humorless laugh. "I mean, I don't blame her, I guess. Maybe we should ask some theurge what to do about it; or maybe I can see if I can talk to her without tormenting Cat too much and tell her to shut up and leave him alone."

The Glass Walker shakes his head slightly. "Ghosts again." Pensive, he looks over toward the waterfall. He's quiet a moment, then turns back to Helen. "She seems to trust you, as a tribesister. Speak to her again and see if you can find out how she died, or if there's some unfinished business that's keeping her from passing on. Do you know the Gathering for the Departed?"

"I'll do that," Helen says of Salem's suggestion. "And I don't know the Gathering for the Departed, and don't know anyone who knows it. I could go around asking people if they know it."

"Sepdet does, I know," Salem replies, his gaze going distant again as he thinks. "I'm not sure who else. The simplest solution may be the best. Give her closure and a proper send-off. Perhaps get a Galliard to learn her story and tell it. If that doesn't work... hm." He looks back at the Fury. "We'll figure out something else."

"I haven't seen Sepdet in ages," says Helen, "but I'll go around asking Theurges if they know the rite. I'll go talk to Cat when I can and see if I can get Arrows-of-Artemis to show herself again, get her story."

"Theurges, Galliards... any Garou can learn the rite, and usually does." Salem smiles thinly and nods. "Thank you. I appreciate your help."

Helen nods. "No problem," she says. "Just don't exorcise her in the meantime while I try to figure it out, okay?" She smirks.

Although she could definitely be called attractive, this young woman doesn't seem like she puts too much care into her appearance. Helen is of middle height and well-proportioned. Her skin is pale with a little olive tint to it. Her face is a pretty one, slightly round and the features are generally regular; her eyes are a stormy blue, and above them are thin dark eyebrows. Her nose could almost be called short, and her lips--almost always set in a grin or smirk--are thin. Masses of dark brown, nearly black, hair fall to mid-back, either in or out of her face with a rubberband depending on how much she particularly cares. She doesn't seem fond of jewelry, but occasionally wears earrings. There are vaguely visible scars on her ears and eyebrows where piercings used to be. She wears a necklace of a simple leather rope with a black, round stone dangling from it. It's obvious it's something special. She seems to favor simple clothes and doesn't dress in style. She is most often caught wearing a pair of denim jeans, faded, and a shirt, either long-sleeved or short sleeved depending on the weather. On her feet are worn-out sneakers or equally worn sandals. She carries herself well, as if she must have learned some manners about posture years ago. One could pin her age at about nineteen or twenty.

"I'll try," Salem says dryly. "If you _do_ speak to her again, tell her that bullying Cat is _not_ a good way to get my help. He has enough of a self-esteem problem as is."

"Of course," says the Fury elder. "Do you know where Cat is? Last I heard he was staying at the Farmhouse, but I don't know if he went back to the city or what..'

Salem says, "He should be at the farmhouse. If not, he'll be staying with Rina in the city"

Helen nods, slowly. "Alright. I'll go looking for him then."

Salem nods, with a faint smile. "Good." He changes the subject, then. "There was one other thing. You spend most of your time as a Guardian, don't you?"

"I do, yeah," Helen replies.

"No pack, though?" Salem cocks his head, studying her with that one brown eye.

"Not anymore, since Dena left and all. Layne spoke to me of being interested in starting up a new Guardian pack and I said I'd join her.."

Salem nods. "Layne, good. Sepdet's idea of temporary Guardians is good, but the Sept still needs a full-time Guardian pack." He smiles thinly. "Perhaps you should talk to that Red Talon I heard has been lurking around. They're usually good at protecting wilderness."