Bullying

[hazlogs]

It is currently 17:32 Pacific Time on Thu Jun 5 1997.
Currently on this highly windy and hot spring dusk in the general St. Claire 
  area, it is 77 degrees Fahrenheit (25.0 degrees Celsius). The wind is coming 
  from the west-southwest at 42 mph. The ground is wet. Skies are clear with a 
  definite chance of precipitation.
Currently the moon is in the waxing No Moon phase (1% full).

[The Compound]

Erik is sitting crosslegged by the fire, apparently contemplating the flames.
Scott wanders down the trail, hands tucked in his jacket pockets. He seems to 
  be in an amiable enough mood from expression and gait and he wanders over 
  towards the fire.
Strong-Tree pads into the area, lifting her nose to scent the occupants of the 
  compound. Her muzzle wrinkles with distaste...and she stalks up behind her 
  tribesmate to rumble loudly at him.
Scott glances vaguely in Erik and Strong-tree's direction, half raising an 
  eyebrow before settling down in front of the fire.
Erik jerks, the sound yanking him out of his thoughts and back into the 
  unfortunate present. Twisting around, he tilts his head to eye Strong-Tree 
  warily from behind the mask. "Um."
Strong-Tree rumbles menacingly at Erik.
Erik ducks his head, but otherwise is at a loss as to what the other Fianna 
  wants with him. His posture is certainly submissive enough. "Is... something 
  wrong, ma'am?" Besides the obvious, of course.
Strong-Tree gives an annoyed snort, and makes a marking-gesture next to Erik. 
  You are in my way, mule. The distaste in her expression is blatantly obvious.
Jenna raises her head from her corner of the clearing.
Jenna contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
Jenna shifts into Lupus form.
Scott's expression evens, turning a touch hard as he watchs the two Fianna, 
  though he stays quiet for now.
Erik rises without a word and circles around to the other side of the fire. 
  Then he sits down again, silently.
Strong-Tree sniffs at the spot where the mule was so recently sitting, nose 
  wrinkled in disgust, and then goes to sit in another spot. She peers at 
  Scott from beneath shaggy brows. Good evening, she rumbles to him, neutrally.
Scott seems none to impressed with the other Fostern, allowing the silence to 
  stretch out before giving a curt reply,"It is. Good eve to you as well."
Moon Raven watches the two fosterns thoughtfully.
Erik pulls his knees to his chest and folds his arms on top of them, head 
  lowered.
Strong-Tree scratches idly at her flank with a stiff hindleg. She turns her 
  brooding expression on Moon Raven, drinking in her scent from a distance. 
  Good evening to you, as well, though I do not know you.
Moon Raven studies Strong-Tree. No. You don't. She waits.
Strong-Tree rises to her full height, tail held at a neutral, unchallenging, 
  level. I am named for the tree that grows quickly tall and strong, born to 
  wolf of the Whispering Rovers of the tribe of the Fianna, under the full of 
  Luna's light. I have come to the Wheel at the bidding of Magpie's Child, 
  Watcher, whom I follow. I have come from the far Sept of the Forbidding 
  Wall, in Lion's Country.
Scott continues to remain unimpressed, if his expression is any indication, of 
  Strong-tree's introduction and turns his attention to Erik. "How've things 
  been with you, Erik? You haven't seen Mark lately, have you. I need to talk 
  with him."
Erik glances up, turning toward the Silver Fang. He ducks his head and answers 
  respectfully. "I've been fine, sir, thank you. Um. I've not seen Mark in 
  quite a while."
Moon Raven rises to a sitting position, her grey eyes boring into the Fianna. 
  And I am named for the spirit that guides me, and I am born of Garou, 
  talekeeper and Stargazer, and I wander. Good evening to you. The metis seems 
  unimpressed by the Fianna's size, perhaps because of her association with 
  Stormcloud.
Scott nods a little. "That's good to hear, I suppose. Well, not that you 
  haven't seen Mark, but he's probably busy trying to keep things in order at 
  the farmhouse." He pauses, and then asks,"Have you seen to speaking with 
  your Righ about membership? If you are to stay for anytime, you really 
  should do so."
Strong-Tree's tale wags politely, though her posture is barely respectful of 
  the Stargazer mule's rank. Respectful enough for propriety's sake, but no 
  more.
Erik winces slightly, gloved fingers twisting together like vines as he nods 
  to Scott. "I will, but I believe I already know the answer."
Moon Raven doesn't seem particularly interested in the Fianna's lack of 
  respect, biting at her slender foreleg before watching Erik and Scott's 
  conversation.
Scott frowns a little, his gaze going distant as it settles on the fire. He is 
  quiet for a moment, and then seems to break out of his reverie and whatever 
  thoughts had caused it. He says quietly,"Yeah. I imagine it won't be easy 
  for you."
Strong-Tree grins toothily at the other Fianna. You could come with me when I 
  leave after my two moons here...?
Erik murmurs, "No, sir, it won't." His voice expresses gratitude that the 
  Silver Fang should actually take an interest, and then he seems to wilt 
  slightly at Strong-Tree's words. "Um. No thank you, ma'am."
Strong-Tree grumbles, not unhappily, to herself. She seems unsurprised by the 
  answer. Coward...
Moon Raven swings her head around to look at Strong-Tree again, and inquires 
  politely, And is it an action of the brave to pick on those who dare not 
  defend themselves?
Strong-Tree gazes evenly back at Moon Raven. He can dare. He just won't. She 
  curls her lip in disgust. He knows I can't kill him, being only a guest 
  here. But he won't even /fight/.
Erik lifts his head slightly, but looks at the lupus only enough to be able to 
  read her wolf speech. "Submission to those greater in station," he murmurs.
Moon Raven looks highly amused. Of course you can kill him. He's only metis. 
  Perhaps you would be punished if you did. Perhaps. And if he attacked you, 
  well, who would blame you for killing him. Little metis. She studies the 
  huge female. It does not become you to taunt your lessers.
Strong-Tree growfs at the Fianna mule. I wanted you to show some backbone, at 
  least. She looks profoundly disappointed, then turns to Moon Raven. It is 
  the custom in our tribe to test our Cursed-born, to make them stronger. If 
  you don't like that, you are welcome to talk to the elder of my tribe, here.
Scott says quietly,"Submission doesn't mean you can't stand up for yourself in 
  a respectful manner, Erik." He pauses, and then adds in a manner that sounds 
  like recitation,"Respect those beneath ye, all are of Gaia." He glances back 
  to Strong-tree, his eyes narrowing slightly before returning his gaze to 
  Erik.
Moon Raven looks amused again. I've met plenty of Fianna who had the nobility 
  to respect those lower in station than themselves, and others who had the 
  honesty to admit their prejudice, instead of hiding behind a provincial 
  custom. Her eyes drift to Erik. I do wonder who could have raised him to do 
  such a wodnerful impression of a doormat. He is your tribe?
Strong-Tree grumbles back at Scott. I have a hard time respecting one who will 
  not stand up for himself even a little. It makes me wonder if he backs down 
  in a real fight.
Strong-Tree chuffs an affirmative at Moon Raven. Unfortunately, yes.
Moon Raven twists her head back to look at Strong-Tree. He is not a Sept 
  member either? Perhaps you should ask your alpha if you can take him in hand 
  andbreak him of his doormat tendencies, teaching him strength. I think he 
  would make a fine warrior if he would only stand up straight.
Erik doesn't say a word through all this, bit his body language is almost 
  painfully attentive, arms folded over bony knees, gloved fingers cupping the 
  opposite elbow.
Scott eyes Moon Raven and Strong-tree, and says a touch curtly,"Being 
  respectful and humble isn't the test of one's inner resolve or fire. I'm 
  surprised you two think as much."
Moon Raven looks at Scott. Of course it isn't. Some of the greatest heroes 
  have been both humble and respecful. But they stood up straight. It's not so 
  hard a thing to learn, once you stop being afraid-- or stop caring-- that a 
  straight back will be more easily snapped.
Scott lifts a shoulder in a noncommital shrug.
Strong-Tree suddenly grins toothily, a dangerous-looking boisterousness coming 
  into her posture. This is a good idea. He will learn to be strong, or die, 
  as the dictates of Gaia state. She rumbles at Scott, displeased. Running 
  away isn't inner resolve, and I have yet to see /any/ fire from that one. 
  Her muzzle indicates Erik, disdainfully.
Scott turns his rather unsettling stare on the other fostern, eyes burning 
  with the fire of the great garou princes and warriors of old. "We often only 
  wee what we want to, Fianna. However, I would not stop you from dealing with 
  your tribes-mate as you see fit."
Erik's attention is almost fully on the Rover now, the tension of a stag who 
  scents fire on the crisp, dry autumn air.
Strong-Tree rises to her full height again, and her tail rises slightly as her 
  gaze takes on a hardness of its own. She snorts, softly, then looks away. 
  That is good. There's an implicit threat in her stance, despite her apparent 
  submission. I will go talk to the Alpha now. It is his decision, after all, 
  and I am only--she pauses, glancing meaningfully at Scott again for a 
  moment--a guest here.
Scott responds to the implied threat with a wicked grin, bemusement touching 
  his features, not backing down an inch. He says simply,"Of course."
Erik shivers very slightly and pulls his coat a bit closer about himself 
  despite the spring air.
Strong-Tree pads off, then, her powerful strides bespeaking some of her inner 
  tension.