"I've known since I first discovered that she was pregnant."

[hazlogs]

It is currently 07:36 Pacific Time on Fri Dec 12 2003.

Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous Moon phase (76% full).

Long distance to Megan: Salem looks at +time. Early! But Jack gets up with the sun and didn't sleep last night anyway. Or do you wanna timewarp a bit?
Megan pages: Hmm. I was going to say 'timewarping', but I think staying in realtime might be better. Salem could've left her a message last night saying he was actually talking to people about 'the Renee thing' to explain why he didn't come out then? :)
Long distance to Megan: Salem nods. Mainly, he was talking to Renee and Craig. Poor kids. (Yeah yeah, Renee's Fostern, but she's still a kid in Salem's eyes. Not even 20 yet.)
Megan pages: Yeah. :/

Around the Lone Boulder

The sparse forest gives way here into a vast clearing, entirely devoid of trees or heavy underbrush for great distances all around. Low, thick grass, a palish green in color, grows everywhere underfoot; it sways ever so gently in the chill winds that seem to settle in across this open expanse with unusual frequency. The occasional darker shoot or dandelion weed makes its way up amidst the rest, but the hilly territory is on the whole a uniform color, reminiscent of a moor. Adding to the image is the single, ponderous old stone, a grey-brown in color, settled uncannily in the dead center of the expanse as if it has perched there alone since the dawn of time. Grass grows up around the weathered boulder, but its vaguely-flattened top clears the grass by a good many feet, at least chest-high to a good-sized man. The sky, often grey, is a presence in this sudden openness, appearing from amidst the treetops to arc high over the grass and stone.

Woodland tracks lead off into the forest to the north and south, while the boulder itself stands at the center of the clearing.

Megan is sitting with her back to the southern face of the boulder, a thick blanket folded double acting as a ground-chair for her butt. Given the below freezing temperatures, her coat is wrapped snugly around her. Her head is tilted back, so the crown rests against the stone; she looks up at the sky, knees upbent, hands folded together and arms propped up on her knees.

Salem's approach isn't silent; the Glass Walker is in homid form and makes no special effort toward stealth. The hood of his sweatshirt is pulled up to cover his shaved head, and the long black leather coat's buttoned and belted closed against the morning chill. He pauses at the edge of the clearing, lean face tight with clenched jaw, then starts toward the boulder, removing the dark sunglasses as he does so.

There are dark, visible circles under his eyes.

Megan's eyes, but not the rest of her, move towards the sound of someone's arrival, to notice Salem emerging from the woods. A frown flickers across her expression, possibly unnoticable given her upturned face and the haziness of the morning, but then she straightens, tipping her head to face the Glass Walker, but not rising from her seat. When he's within hailing distance, she does so. "Hey." It sounds tired, tired as he looks.

"Good morning," Salem responds, rather flatly. He stops in front of her, still standing, hands buried in his pockets.

Megan seems disinclined to stand up, and comfortable with the idea that she's having to look up at the looming former Shadow Lord. At least for the moment. "So, what'd you find out, talking to them?"

Though he's standing over her -- and he's taller than she is even if she _were_ on her feet -- Salem's body language still manages to convey submission, that of a lesser speaking to a superior. It's a subtle nuance, but both have been Garou for long, long time. "Enough." His jaw tightens as he looks at her. "It was an accident, you know. Craig hadn't shifted yet, and Renee didn't know he was Garou. An accident and bad luck."

Megan nods curtly, either acknowledgement or confirmation. "Yes. But covering it up was intentional." Her words are succinct, and do more to convey her underlying anger at it than her expression is at the moment.

Salem inclines his head. "Yes," he says simply. "It was."

Megan presses on, the bit in *her* teeth now. "Alicia told me that she, all her pack, knew about it, and didn't say anything. And she also told me that Renee went and talked to you," she says, fixing Salem with a hard look, "but didn't know about what. So, what about?"

Salem looks into the Fianna's face for a second or two, then straightens his posture, clasping his hands behind his back. More formal, but not 'parade rest'. "Because I knew it, too," he says. His expression is carefully neutral, his voice even, both under tight control. "I've known since I first discovered that she was pregnant."

"You knew," Megan repeats. And then deliberately rises to her feet. "And you intentionally kept it from the rest of the Sept?"

Behind his back, Salem's hands tighten; more visibly, the Walker's posture rachets one higher on the 'rigidity' scale. "Yes."

Megan scowls, fury bubbling back up to the surface. "Jesus *fuck*!" she curses soundly. "First Renee, now you? So, why, *Philodox*, did you hide the truth of a Litany violation? Especially *that* one?"

Salem stares not at the Fianna but past her, not meeting her eyes. "I didn't want to see her ruined because of a mistake born of bad luck," he answers stiffly. "She had -- _has_ -- a good deal of potential."

Megan growls softly. "Yes. She *did*," the Fianna stresses the verb. "But did you think of the consequences if the lie was to come out *later*?"

Small muscles tighten as Salem clenches his jaw. He clamps down on his temper and keeps himself forcibly still. Somehow, his tone of voice remains even, if flat. "I thought she'd be smarter than to parade the pup in front of the whole Sept."

"Well, she didn't," Megan snaps. "God dammit, Salem. I trusted you. I asked to talk to you, because I thought you of all people would be able to advise me with this. The *entire pack* covered this up. And now I have to deal with the fact you did, too." She sounds disgusted, angry, but also disappointed, before she whirls to walk several feet away from him, back to him, hands clenched and drawn up towards her chest, while she breathes hard, trying to control the rage.

Salem watches her and says nothing; he hardly stirs from that stiff, tensely formal stance of his. He offers no excuses, no protestations or explanations; his face remains frozen. He simply waits, stonily.

Megan finally regains control, and spins on her heel to face the Glass Walker again. "If this had all come out," Megan begins, volume modulated but expression still wroth, "when it had been first realized, and if I'd been here for it, I would've probably shown mercy, and made her punishment lenient. But now," Megan says, pausing, to let the phrase dangle ominously, "now, I can't. Because not only did she know, she hid it. She actively hid it. She was *examined by a Philodox*, *opnely* this time," she says sarcastically, "and was said to be telling the truth. She lied, if not directly, at least by omission and misdirection, and then had the *audacity* to come to me and say that Leonard was impugning her honor by continuing to disbelieve her. And if I gather correctly, she had done this cover-up, *known* all this, when she Challenged and rose to the rank of Fostern. The Sept is hurting, Salem. You know that. I know that. And three of its recognized leaders have been found to have been covering up a serious violation of the Litany. Not only did you, *you*, betray your *chosen*," that word is stressed with acid, "auspice, but all three of you have seriously damaged the trust we can put in our leaders and made a mockery of things like 'honor'."

Salem's gaze shifts away from her as she turns and begins speaking again, and he remains silent as she castigates him. He's not entirely stone, but the reactions are small and subtle -- clenching jaw (is that the sound of teeth grinding?), a slight muscle tic under his right eye, a flare of the nostrils at the acidic whip of "chosen". "I have no control over what Renee did," he says finally, when the Adren Philodox is finished speaking. His voice is quiet. "I certainly didn't advise her to lie while being questioned by Layne. I questioned her at length when I found out she was carrying, and I judged that she and Craig, then still a cub, had not done wrong. She'd had no way of knowing he was Garou, and Craig hadn't even known we existed." He takes a breath. "I knew, also, that the Sept would think differently, and Renee knew it, too. She was going to abort the fetus in secret, and I would not allow her to do so." He looks at Megan, his eyes touching hers only briefly. "That is the _other_ reason why I kept silent."

Megan is the silent one now, glaring daggers, but holding her tongue. She may be waiting. She may have nothing to say. And the silence may grow uncomfortable if it is allowed to continue for the several minutes she seems willing to stand there.

Salem seems perfectly able to stand there with his mouth shut for as long as Megan's willing to and then some, but this certainly isn't the time to engage in a contest of wills. "Squeaks-Like-A-Rat may or may not live to see adulthood. She may or may not even come to maturity before the Apocalypse. But she _is_ a Garou, Metis or no... and I have known too many worthy Metis to stand idly by and see one destroyed."

"Finally," Megan says. "Something else we agree on in this fucking mess. So," she says, closing the distance between them briskly, and looking up at the taller man, radiating unconscious authority. "Tell me, Keeper of the Ways, what would you do at this point?"

Salem gives Megan a quick, surprised glance at this agreement, brows furrowing briefly. His expression smooths back into neutrality as she approaches, however, and to emphasize the other Garou's authority, he tips his head slightly, baring throat. "...I don't know," he says, at last. Reluctantly.

Megan crosses her arms over her chest, leaning her weight on one leg. "Take a stab at it, then," she demands, but in a challenging tone.

Salem's jaw clenches, and his nostrils flare as he inhales a breath of the frigid winter air. He answers after a moment or two. "Renee chose to lie in front of a Philodox. It was her idea to cover up her pregnancy by any means necessary... though I believe she did it as much for Craig's sake as her own. She also chose to lie in front of the entire Sept, at moot, during the Cracking of the Bone, by creating a story in which the metis was brought in from another Sept. Her... crime goes beyond simply breaking the First Law. The length at which she deceived the Sept was... highly dishonorable." He pauses a beat. "Stone of Scorn, or perhaps the Jackal's Voice." He pauses briefly before continuing.

"Craig," Salem continues -- he's still looking past Megan, not at her, like a Marine at attention -- "was Renee's student until only recently. It should be determined whether they're still having... relations, but I don't believe that they are. The severity of his punishment will depend on that, I think." Another breath. "As for the rest of Rough and Tumble... I know that they are a close-knit pack and loyal to each other." He frowns. "If they kept silence out of loyalty to their alpha... I can't judge them too harshly." He stops then, expression pensive, and finishes, flatly, with, "...And no Judge is qualified to judge _himself_."

"So, judge this," Megan says, beginning to pace in front of Salem much like a Marine sergeant might do. "A respected philodox gets presented with a clear-cut violation of the Litany. Let's say someone admitted to gnoshing down on human because they were starving, and there was no other food around. Understandable. Perhaps even forgivable. But clearly against the Litany. Rather than tell the rest of the Sept, which she should really be honorbound to do, being a Keeper of the Ways and all, she gives the Garou a slap on the wrist, and then doesn't talk about it. And, then it turns out that this respected Philodox, this paragon of Garou ethics, justice, and honor...covered it up. Hid it. Just like a Shadow Lord."

Salem twitches, his jaw clenching hard enough that veins become visible; his face flushes, the scars turning white. Through gritted teeth, fighting to choke back the sudden flare-up of rage, he growls, "A _Shadow Lord_ would have done it for personal gain. If she, or he, would have done it at all."

Megan simply grunts to that, either unconvinced or not wanting to argue the correction. "So, in this *hypothetical* situation, how would you look at this Keeper of the Ways afterwards?"

Salem doesn't answer right away; he takes a few seconds to throttle back the beast slavering and ranting under his skin. If he were any more tense he'd probably snap in two. "Poorly," he says at last, voice flat. "I'd wonder what else they were hiding."

Megan's eyebrows go up at that, and she pauses in her pacing, to skewer Salem with a dark-green gaze. "Should I?" she asks too softly.

A pause. Then he says, "I've told you all I know about this matter."

Megan studies the Glass Walker for some time, then nods curtly. "Very well. I find myself in an extremely discomfiting position," she announces, some of her anger having leeched away as the conversation has progressed. "I thought my situation with Luke was bad enough, and that still must be resolved as quickly as possible. Renee tells me she was going to be Master of the Challenge, taking it from her packmate, so I was going to work with her on it--and then I find out she's been lying all this time about this. So, I was going to ask *you* to lend your weight to it--and I find out *you've* been covering up as well. And so, you would think it might default back to Lyra, but *she* was helping to cover it up." A pause, then, "So, other than Layne, are there *any* other halfmoons at this Sept I could trust right now?"

Salem thinks for a moment. "Layne's been at the Sept the longest. Taslyn is new, and K.C., my tribemate, is rarely involved with Sept matters. There's also the Get, Erika, but she hasn't been Cliath long."

"...And is Luke's packmate," Megan adds. "I need someone neutral. K.C. might be ideal, except if the Sept doesn't know her, they probably would not have the respect I need." She scowls. "I guess I will speak with Layne on this. At least the fact that she is Fianna should give no expected bias towards *either* of us, in that respect. And, I want to talk to her about Renee anyway." She runs a hand through her hair with frustration, and gives Salem a look, almost expecting he might have something to add.

Salem, however, simply nods. He has nothing more to say, it seems.

Megan nods once more, then says. "I think that's it. I've put a lot of thought into this one already, so I don't expect this will take long to decide. Although, I do want to talk to Leonard. I'll be in touch," she says, with a note of dismissal.

Salem inclines his head, turns, and departs without looking back.