"So, why _do_ you think you're suited to be Alpha of this Sept?"

[hazlogs]

It is currently 08:53 Pacific Time on Sun Nov 23 2003.
Currently the moon is in the waning No Moon phase (4% full).

Those who have known Jack Salem may very well not recognize him at first, such is the severity of his change. Only the ugly, twisting scars on the left side of his face and the deep-set, mismatched eyes -- the left blind white, the right nearly black -- remain the same.

He has the look of a man who's just finished a tour of duty in hell. It shows mostly in his face, a hawkish visage that seems narrower than before; the angles of his features are sharply defined, the aristocracy in them scoured down to the bone. The short beard and long hair have vanished, replaced by dark stubble on scalp and jaw. He looks younger than his thirty years, but the shadowed eyes are much, much older.

At six-foot-three, he stands taller than most men, and an inherent athleticism indicates that he could probably hold his own in a fight. There's also an aura of pent-up violence about him, a tightly-controlled rage that could be lethal if unleashed.

An olive-drab t-shirt is tucked into a pair of BDU pants that have faded to gray, and his black combat boots are well broken-in. Hanging open over the t-shirt is a zippered sweatshirt, dark gray and with a hood. The tails of a very battered black leather duster sweep around his ankles.

Zoo - Cafeteria

This was a cafeteria once upon a time, complete with running water and a microwave. Now, the only thing left in the room is the countertops and openfaced cabinets, the remainder having been stolen long ago. The available shelf space has been partially filled with non-perishable food items and certain food-products where you don't want to look all that closely at the expiration date. A plastic four gallon container has been placed on one of the counters and is periodically filled with drinkable, if not entirely fresh, water. A metal drum sits near one of the room's window, providing light and a cooking fire when put to use. Scattered around the room are several old couches and chairs. A menagerie of colors, styles, and conditions. From the bright orange and pea green of the sixties, to the colored floral patterns of the eighties.
In the very center of the large room, a monument has been built out of blood stained wood, soot covered bricks, a single sign written out in red spray paint. The monument stands just over four feet high and the sign defiantly states: NEVER AGAIN.

In the chill of a November Sunday morning, a familiar rust-orange Yugo parks on the curb a short distance away from the "abandoned" St. Claire zoo. Its owner gets out, surveys the street with eyes hidden behind dark glasses, then walks through the entrance; he's favoring his right leg slightly, though is making an effort to hide it.

As Salem gets closer to the main building, a lupine head pokes out from behind a makeshift plywood door. The Gnawer's ears flick this way and that, before ducking back inside.

In lupus form, the nose is superior to the eyes, which is good. Renee's nose tells the Gnawer that yes, it _is_ the ex-Ronin back from his "business trip." If she'd been in Homid and using her eyes, she probably wouldn't have recognized him.

Salem pauses when he notices her, then continues toward the main building, his expression grim.

Renee does not greet the Walker at the door and the building's entranceway remains empty, as the Walker makes his way inside. When the Gnawer does show herself, she is wearing the warform and her ears are set back. ~You've changed,~ she comments dryly. Salem probably notices that the Galliard as positioned herself in such a way that he would be at a disadvantage, movement wise, in a fight.

Salem pauses when Renee shows herself in Crinos and regards her with a flat expression for a moment. "I'm too tired for games, Renee," he says sourly. _That_ is no different, that tone of voice, that touch of impatience. "Do you want to talk to me, or do you want me to go?"

The Crinos' ears flatten even further, as she reguards the newly returned Walker Elder. The huge creature snorts and shakes her massive head, posture becoming less defencive. ~You've been gone a long time, Scar-Face. You never answered your phone. You didn't expect me to give ya a warm welcome, did ya? I'm a suspicious bitch, espically after the Dancers and everything else.~ Sees-True moves back through the doorway she appeared from. ~Come. We do need to talk. Want something to eat?~

Salem grunts, accepting the explanation, and follows, still favoring his leg. He removes the sunglasses as he does so, tucking them in an inside pocket of his duster. "No, thank you. Place looks good, by the way."

Sees-True passes through one large doorway and into the old cafeteria. The place is a disaster, with wet dog food and some fresher meats smeared all over the floor. The Galliard heaves a sigh, as she locates the source of the distruction; A minuture crinos that is currently tearing apart a musty loveseat.

Salem snorts, an amused sound; one side of his mouth quirks upward. "Nevermind. What auspice did you say she was?"

Born in late April, Squeaks-Like-A-Rat is small for her age. The mule has lost her fluffy baby coat, the soft brown fur having been replaced by dark guard hairs and a grey pelt. Squeaks' eyes are a deep golden-brown and look out at the world with an infants curiosity and trust. The pup's ears form two neat triangles, which swivel this way and that. Sharp baby teeth have finished growing in, allowing her to chew through just about anything. Squeaks is an avid crawler and can even walk on two feet, if only for a short period of time. The Mule's deformity is hard to miss; instead of a normal tail, a long rats tail extends behind the cub. Hairless and far too long, the tail impedes the young Garou's movements and draws heat away from her body.

~Waxing Crescent,~ Sees-True grumbles, as she walks over to the couch and pries the pup free from her 'prey'. The Mule squeaks in complaint, ears laying back and small claws digging into her mother's arms.

Salem chuckles quietly. Though the little mule causes her mother no end of trouble, the sight of her seems to lighten the Walker's dour mood. "Cute," he says, voice dry, and then sinks down into an armchair that's in better condition than most.

~Let me see you say that, after cleaning up this kid's shits for a week,~ Sees-True continues to grumble, as she carries the Mule to another pard of the room and deposits her infront of a partially emptied dog bowl. Like most young children, the Metis is easily distracted and forgets her fit of temper and focuses on eating instead. ~So, you decided ta come back. You look like shit. Going to fill me in on what you were up too?"

"No. It's not important." That answer sounds final. He shrugs out of the heavy duster, letting it fall back against the chair, then settles back, legs stretched out in front of him, arms folded.

Sees-True snorts. ~Secretive bastard,~ she complains, before returning to her birth form. "Well, now yer back, whatcha gonna do?" She asks, while heading over to the shelves and helping herself to a box of very cheep cookies.

Salem rubs his stubbled chin thoughtfully. "Have a chat with Luke, I suppose. Any reason why he decided to challenge you for alphaship?"

Renee shrugs. "Revel didn't go so hot an' he blames me fer that."

Dark eyebrows lift over tired-looking eyes. "What went wrong?"

Renee sighs and munches on her cookie. "No one died, but they had to retreat. Too many fuckin' Spiders, thats what. Not that I'm real happy with Luke right now, ta be honest with yea. They had stuff start ta go sour in the Grotto an' he sat on that information, even after some red haired 'Fianna Kinfolk' showed up at the Farmhouse. Guy gave the cubs the creeps an' didn't seem all that human ta them." The Galliard rubs at her eyes, looking tired as well.

Salem grimaces, nose wrinkling. "Lovely." His gaze wanders over toward Squeaks. "I see that you're not hiding her anymore."

Renee grunts and runs her fingers through her hair. "Yea, well, Red wanted ta preform some sorta Rite in the Caern on Halloween, or doom would happen, or some shit. Got asked ta let him in the night before an' Eamon didn't know shit about the Rite the guy was plannin'. Kinda, ya know, told him he was fuckin' nuts if I thought I'd let him in. Got the possibility of Fae bein' all pissed off at us now, so we've been keepin' an eyeball out for'em. An' yea, I intro'd her at the moot, as a kid Kaz brought up here. Which, if ya don't spit hairs, is true enough. Leonard is the only one with his panties in a twist over her. Was sayin' something about a Q&A session with a half-moon, but haven't heard anythin' from him since that."

"Ah," Salem says. "Leonard." He looks from toddler to mother. "Does he have a half-moon in mind?"

Renee shrugs. "Like I said, I ain't heard a word from him since the Moot. Gonna hunt him down soon an' tell him he has until the half-moon, or I'll consider the subject dropped. Ain't gonna wait forever for him."

"I'll play judge if he'll accept it," Salem says, his eyes shifting back to the pup. "Although I doubt he will."

Having finished the remainder of her food, Squeaks briefly stands up on two legs. Nose twitching, as she focuses on the cookies in Renee's hands. Dropping back onto all fours, the pup ambles toward her mother, bare tail draging along the ground. "Well, we'll see. I'm gettin' pretty sick of waitin' on him. Don't think much of the boy, not after he dropped Jeremy inta that hole." Catching sight of Squeaks approach, the Galliard fishes out another cookie and tosses it at the pup.

Salem grunts. "No shit. Luke still have the little bastard in his pack?"

Renee nods. "Yea, he does. They're followin' Wyvern. Ya know, Leonard bitched at me 'cause I didn't tell him there would be Spiders, durin' the Revel? We were hittin' a city target."

"Yes, well, since when did Leonard ever show the capacity for proper brain function?" Salem grimaces, then passes a hand across his eyes and mutters a word in Serbian.

Renee hmms, warily watching the pup and throwing her a second cookie as she finishes the first one. "We have Vampires warrin' with Russian Mafia right now. Our Liver eater is still on the loose, but I ain't heard anythin' new on that end. Few new people in the area. New cub fer you guys. Alicia is currently keepin' an eye on that girl."

"Someone for Cat to play with," Salem says ironically. "Unless he's still decided that girls have cooties." Ah, yes. Welcome home, no rest for the wicked. "Who else is new?"

Renee mmms. "Olga is a new Theurge fer my Tribe, a Get cub by the name of Emma. We passed Karl off on the Gaians, hoppin' that they can do somethin' with him. Craig came back."

Salem nods slightly at each name, then raises eyebrows at the last. "Craig, hm? Still a cub, or?" And his attention slips to the pup again, obvious questions unspoken.

Renee perses her lips, expression darkening. "Cliath. Chuck wasn't about ta let him leave, any other way."

Salem grunts. "Makes sense." He notes Renee's expression and frowns. "Problem?"

Renee sighs and rubs at the back of her neck. "Complicates things, havin' him back. Thats all."

Salem shifts his weight in the chair, putting more on his left hip. "How's he dealing with fatherhood?"

Renee gives up and dumps the last of the bag onto the floor, letting the pup have all of the cookies. Squeaks squeals happily and buisly stuffs the food into her mouth. "damn kid is gonna get fat," Renee mutters. "He is doin' okay with it. Spends time with her an' shit. Jus' not so much durin' the half-moon."

"Keep her active and she'll be fine, I'm sure." Salem quirks a half-smile at the puppy-Crinos, then arches an eyebrow at Renee. "And the half-moon is significant because...?"

Renee wrinkles her nose. "S'kinda complicated. Guy would have been a Gaian, if he had a Fetch on him. Has a couple of ancestors bouncin' around in his head. One of'em happens ta be a half-moon an' is on the uppity side."

"Ah," says the Walker, comprehending. "First law and all that." He rubs his jaw. "Is it going to be a problem? Is he going to, say, run down to the caern and confess to the Rangers?"

Renee shakes her head. "Naw, he wants to, real bad, but Craig has been doin' a fairly good job of keepin' him under wraps. Still, skinda worrisome."

Salem nods slightly. "Yes, it would be..." Pushing back the hood of the sweatshirt, he rubs his stubbled scalp and asks -- clearly expecting a negative answer -- "Has Rina been by to see you? Or Raul?"

Renee shakes her head. "Raul is around an' bein' my packmate, I keep tabs on him. Ain't seen Rina. Girl has been keepin' to herself, far as I can tell."

"Let me see if I can get Raul," Renee rumbles, briefly closing her eyes.

Salem shows not the least bit of surprise, only weariness. "She's been having recurring dreams about John for at least half a year. Perhaps more. It's..." He says this delicately. "...Affected her." He rubs his eyes. "Lately she's been dreaming when awake. Now. This is either her own psyche playing havoc with her, or something _else_ messing with her head for shits and giggles, or... mm." Broad shoulders move in a faint shrug, the last possibility going unsaid.

Renee mms. "Or she has finally gone nuts. Wouldn't surprise me, ya know. Girl has gone through a lot of shit an' she hangs out with us, for fucks sake. Does that ta some Kin, eventually."

Salem grunts. "That thought had occurred to me, yes. Before I decided that, I was hoping to get someone to dreamwalk her. And I don't know jack about such." Unintentional pun -- he isn't showing any signs of humor, anyway. "If it's something messing with her, I'd like it ferreted out and destroyed. If it's her own mind doing it... maybe we can provide closure. God knows she could use it." His mouth thins.
Renee mms and looks down at the cookie eating mule. "Sometimes, closure is all we can give."

"Hello?" Alicia calls out, carting the other two along as she makes her way into the cafeteria. "Word. Salem -is- back." She says with a grin, hands shoved into the pockets of her trench coat. Yi an Lyra are right behind her, probably car sick from the haul-ass ride over.

Salem is sitting in one of the less-destroyed armchairs, duster off and arms folded across his chest. He glances over toward the doorway as the three other Garou arrive, and his face goes bland.

Yi , hardly carsick but certainly going to make sure not to let Alicia drive like that ever again, narrows her own eyes at the one who ought to be Salem. He certainly looks different though. Way different, in some undeniable sense. "One eye still," she comments passingly. Though almost expectantly she looks to Renee, as if the galliard would provide the information she'd like.

Lyra looks a little lost, as though her usual absentmindedness was further aggravated by the brain-rattling Alicia provided. Hazel eyes blink at Salem in sudden surprise, and she taps the hollow of her throat questioningly.

"Hey guys," Renee greets, as most of her pack files into the room. "An' yea, this is Salem. Smells an' sounds like him, anyway." She smirks faintly. The Squeaker is at the Galliard's feet, surrounded by hundreds of cookie crumbs.

Rounding to Renee's side, Alicia leans over and ruffles up the kiddo's ears, then peers over at Salem. "Man, what happened to you bro? You look like ya'could use a dinner. I'm totally doing Thanksgiving this year at the Farm." She pauses, then adds. "Woot."

Salem doesn't answer Lyra's unspoken question, though perhaps he doesn't really notice the significance of the gesture -- he doesn't look as though he's slept recently. "You expected different?" he asks Yi. He's glanced over at Alicia, but doesn't reply. One thing at a time.

"Decided to become a monk for a few months?" Yi asks back, looking the Walker up and down as she makes a notion to set her hand comfortingly on Lyra's shoulder.

Lyra's hand drops away from her throat and the question goes with it, as she looks up at Yi and then down at Squeaks. She grins and makes wiggling motions with her fingers at the cub, mumbling her hello.

"Considered it." Salem's tone of voice is as bland as his expression, and the answer is flippant as well. He turns an eye over to Alicia. "I hear that you found another of Cockroach's brood."

Renee mms and looks down at the pup. "Should put the kid back in her room." Bluring into Glabro, the Gnawer Elder collects her daughter.

Alicia bobs her head. "Yah. Kinda didn't find out until a week ago when I peeked into the Umbra. I was like... duh, she did have a kinfetch. Renee an I saved her from herself. She went nuts on a couple of guys trying to rape her in the streets. So we had to knock 'er out an drag her home. I've been training her since then, and she's a smart one. She gets along with Dakota, my cousin just fine. She firsted as well and was brought here under my wing." She babbles on. "Anyways, her name is Katrine, a Galliard."

"Yer a mess," Renee mutters to the Squeaker, as she carries her out of the room. "I'll catch ya later, Salem."

Salem lets the Gaian Galliard's babble wash over him like ocean waves, then nods and glances over toward Renee, quirking a slight half-smile. "Most likely." His gaze shifts back to Alicia, the expression gone. "Where is she right now? The farmhouse?"

Lyra looks slightly disappointed that the Squeaker is off for a nap, but turns her attention back to the various matters of discussion. Nothing she can participate in, really. She digs a watch out of her pocket and eyes it. It's somehow familiar, but she only glances at it for a moment before squirreling it away in her sweater again.

Alicia shakes her head. "Nah. My place. She an Dakota are sharing the guest room with Tom an I. Its just easier to train 'em both at the same time if they are together in one place. So, you want me to keep 'er there, or drop her at the farm? She isn't the social type.. ya'know... kinda.. um... a loner to her thoughts."

"I was thinking of bringing her over to the Dominion, actually," Salem says. He shifts his weight in the chair, grimacing, then settles again. "But she's fine where she is, for the moment."

Yi looks over at the watch Lyra digs out, trying to catch a glimpse of thetime as well. "Lone wolf to meet another," she notes with a fox-like uptilt of her lips. "Should be interesting." Goddamn she's dying with curiosity inside. Her eyes are fixed on the Walker Elder.

"Silly Yi here challenged me for Fostern." Alicia reports with a smirk, giving the Gnawer a playfull punch on the shoulder. "Oh, an I had the top of my head blown off by a couple of katana weilding ghouls. Revel was something else. We all got slaughtered by spiders in the Umbra." She tsks gently. "So wasn't cool, and I believe we plan on making another run in there to finish off the job."

Lyra looks content to listen to the 'grown ups' talk; she takes a step behind Yi and shifts down to lupus, curling around the Ragabash's ankles in either an attempt to get pets, or push her over.

Yi gets distracted, of course, when there's a Lyra seeking out her attention at her ankles. Looking down, she smiles more warmly and reaches down to scritch the lupine around the head. Grown ups indeed. "It wasn't silly," she insists, "but the challenge will be a challenge, I'm sure." At that she eyes sideways at Alicia. Especially about the katana wielding ghouls.

"I'd heard about the Revel," Salem replies dourly. He shakes his head, then pushes to his feet, shrugging back into the long black coat. Lyra gets a bit of a raised eyebrow, but only that. "And I'm sure you'll succeed," he tells Yi.

The lupus'd philo looks awfully content down there, ears splaying when Yi scritches her. Jaws yawn widely, and she snorts, whiskers shaking. Something something flowers.

Yi peers down at the wolf, still scratching away and occassionally massaging some parts of the head there. "Have you taken back your command, Salem?"

Salem's jaw tightens, and he shrugs in the midst of settling the heavy coat over the layers of t-shirt and sweatshirt. "I've only just gotten back, and I haven't spoken to Luke yet." Pulling up the sweatshirt hood, he adds, "For the moment, I'm heading back to the Dominion."

The red wolf's ears flick about. Why can't our home sound so mysterious and fun? she asks lightheartedly. The Walkers get to live in the ~Dominion~ and we live in the ~Zoo.~ I think we got shorthanded.

"You're Bone Gnawers," Salem quips dryly, proving that his wit hasn't _entirely_ abandoned him.

Yi nods, no doubt with more questions in her head than she should ask. "Of course," she replies with a dip of her head. "I did not mean to rush you. It is good to see you've returned, Salem." Salem's quip earns him a brief arch of an eyebrow, but she turns to Lyra's question. "Well if you want to name it something mysterious, suggest one."

You say it like it's a bad thing! Four-Leaves counters with a tongue-lolled grin. She swings her head around, bright eyes peering at the room. ~Menagerie~ sounds better than ~zoo.~ Hm. This will take time.

Salem smiles thinly, in the way that doesn't touch his eyes, and slips on his sunglasses. "Be seeing you," he says in farewell before heading out. Perceptive eyes will note that he's favoring his right leg slightly but is taking pains to hide it.


The Sept Compound

Sweeping branches of trees form a sort of natural roof overshadowing most of this clearing, no more than an open space of grasses and beaten earth in the heart of the forest. Some pains have been taken to keep wear and tear on the area to a minimum, so the firepit tends to shift from time to time. The firepit, several sawn logs polished from use, and a stack of firewood discreetly piled up at the base of an old spruce under a tarp, are the only signs of constant occupation.
A faint trail leads off to the east, and a bit north.

Luke walks in the area of the sept compound, studying the setup intently, mind racing with possibilities. His hand rubs at his chin as he walks, and he pauses occasionally to pace out a small area within it.

"Making plans?" comes Salem's voice from the edge of the compound. The Glass Walker, unrecognizable but for the facial scars and the mismatched eyes, stands with his arms folded across his chest. His face and voice are cold.

Luke turns to face the source of the familiar and very unexpected voice. While it's clear that the man's arrival is a surprise, his answer is a matter-of-fact, "Yes."

This young man comes across immediately as the outdoorsy type. He's always been athletic and active, but has filled out quite a bit in the years since arriving on the farm, his musculature showing the definition that comes from regular workouts and physical labor. His skin is a healthy tan, though it hasn't done anything to rid him of the freckles that dust his nose and cheeks. His hair, once a tousled mess of rust and chestnut, has been cropped back to a military regulation high-and-tight. His eyes are an expressive pale green, almost always determined and confident, frequently with a gleam of mischief and matched by a playful grin, though a touch of sadness will emerge from their depths when he thinks no one is watching. For all that he can be extremely relaxed and lackadaisical when he chooses to be, there's a strong streak of military discipline that runs through him - he's still likely to refer to his elders as sir or ma'am, he usually stands when they enter a room, and he's prone to standing at parade rest when he's not lounging.
His dress does nothing to change the initial impression. His standard attire is a faded pair of blue jeans or shorts with a US Army t-shirt, both of which are marred by sweat and dirt from his outdoor activities more often than not. He very seldom wears shoes when he's around the farm and bawn, his feet calloused enough that this doesn't give him many problems. When he does wear them, it's a pair of sneakers that are well worn in, having seen their share of miles over all sorts of terrain. The one real constant about the young man is the presence of a metal chain around his neck; a soldier's dog-tags, kept protectively close.

Salem's gaze is steady. "I had a chat with Renee this morning," he says blandly.

Luke says "Good. Then the fact that I'm challenging for Alpha won't come as a surprise. I'm assuming she also turned back over leadership to you, which would invalidate the challenge I'd made to her. Have you had time to come up with your own terms?"

"You haven't challenged me yet," Salem says. He shifts his weight, subtly shifting some of it over to his left leg. Favoring the right? "Why did you challenge her in the first place?"

Luke says "Her, specifically? Partly because ten Garou nearly died when we tried to clean out her tribe's territory for a revel. But that was just the wake-up call, honestly. We don't seem to agree on the way things should be done, you and I, and while I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt, I haven't seen anything to convince me I should continue to, especially when you decided to take a vacation on us. If you turned out to have taken off and performed some great service to the sept while you were gone, it might change my mind, but right now, I think I'm the best person for the job. I see far too many things we need to be doing as a sept to just sit back and let things continue as they have been."

"You knew the Revel was to take place in the city Umbra, and you didn't expect pattern spiders?" The Walker's voice remains even; he shows no sign of temper. Just cold, iron and steel. "Hmnf. You think you're the best person for the job. You have ideas. What ideas? Do they include giving random fae access to the caern to do Gaia knows what ritual?"

Luke says "I expected pattern spiders, yes. You're a Glass Walker. Are you honestly telling me you'd feel more than ten Garou were necessary for a visit to the Umbra in the city without everyone nearly dying? And no, I specifically did _not_ give the man...who is only suspected to be Fae, by the way...access to the Caern. I forbid him from even going to the farmhouse, because I didn't trust him that much, much less with access to the caern itself."

Salem nods slightly, his gaze still direct and hawkish. "So, why _do_ you think you're suited to be Alpha of this Sept?"

Luke says "One - I see a way that we can remedy our Guardian situation, and have already started acting on it, if only by feeling people out at this point. And I've had Scourge patrolling the bawn, even if we're not a Guardian pack, because the security situation of this sept is pathetic. Two - I seem to be one of the only ones who sees that the situation at the farmhouse is not what it should be. Until our possible Fae showed up, there wasn't even a Cliath or higher that lived there. Trevor is staying there, now, but that's not enough, and when I'm in a position to do so, I'm going to remedy that. Three - We're alone out here, with no allies, and enemies all around us. I've already started talking to Jamethon about organizing people to remedy that by forming alliances with other septs, establishing moon bridges between us and them so that we have someone to call on should the Caern ever be in danger again. Four - I think I can give the sept as a whole a purpose, a goal to strive for together, which we haven't had since we pulled together to reclaim the Caern and get a new totem spirit. Once we've accomplished the first three, we can start hitting the infestations of the Wyrm in the city, and eventually, with the aid of allies, we can reclaim some of the caerns that have fallen these past few years. That's why I think I'm suited to be Alpha."

Salem's expression doesn't change as he listens, although once or twice he gives a slight nod. "Big plans," he says once Luke is finished, and smiles thinly... though his eyes remain flat and cold. He straightens up, unfolding his arms; his hands vanish into his coat pockets.

Luke nods his agreement to that. "And ones that won't be quick or easy to accomplish. But if Hidden Walk is going to continue to survive and prosper, I think we need to accomplish them. And so I challenge you for Alpha of Hidden Walk, Salem."

"Unnecessary," the Glass Walker says evenly. "I relinquish the position." He inclines his head very slightly and then turns as if to go.

Can it be as simple as that?

As surprised as he was at Salem's return, to judge by his expression, that was nothing compared to what he just heard. Luke's mouth works a moment before any sound comes out. "What?" Not sure that he can believe his own ears.

Salem pauses and fixes the Fianna with that sharp, steely gaze again. "My concern is, above all, the well-being of this Sept. You're a Theurge, which suits our totem. You have a pack supporting you. Your ideas are sound, and I'm interested in seeing how you put them into motion." The way he says this last indicates that the Walker's going to be watching things very closely. "So, congratulations, Alpha." He starts to leave again, then once more pauses. "One more thing."

Luke takes a few moments to gather his composure as Salem is speaking, then raises a brow. "Yes?"

"Tell Leonard that Renee is still waiting for details about this formal questioning he wants to do," Salem says.

Luke agrees, "I'll do that."

Salem nods curly. "Good." He turns away again, this time leaving for real; he's favoring his right leg slightly, though is taking pains to hide it. "Cockroach watch your steps, Fianna."

Luke replies, "And Stag yours, Glass Walker." Remaining still for quite some time, watching Salem's back as the other Fostern departs.