More Cub Teaching (With a Side of Bad News)

[hazlogs]

7/30/02

Currently in Saint Claire, it is mostly sunny today. The temperature is 69
degrees Fahrenheit (20 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in
from the southwest at 16 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.09 and
falling, and the relative humidity is 43 percent. The dewpoint is 46
degrees Fahrenheit (7 degrees Celsius.)

Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous Moon phase (60% full).

Whispering Pines - Jeremy's Apt(#2598RAJLh)

This apartment gives a look of high expense, not in the building itself,
but it's contents. The walls and ceiling are painted pure black, and the
carpet matches the darkness, save for some off color fuzz, being that it's
a pretty new carpet. Across from the door in the living area is a large
black entertainment center consisting of a not suprisingly black 42" TV, a
large fully digital stereo system with CD and tape players, AM/FM stereo,
a setting for the TV, and a useless setting called 'phono'. There are
various gaming systems tucked into the entertainment center as well,
baring names like Dreamcast, Playstation and Playstation 2, various
systems with the word 'Nintendo' upon them... 3D0, NeoGeo, and finally
something called a 'colecovision'. This system is complemented nicely by a
high quality Bose surround sound speaker system. Two black leather couches
are on the left and right of the living area, angled at the entertainment
center. A large chest rests on the ground between the couches and the
entertainment center, working as a foot rest. The only sources of light
are the LEDs on the stereo, the TV, and a small blacklight bulb in the fan
in the center of the apartment. A door to the right of the apartment leads
to Roger's bedroom(+view) and the small kitchen is visable on the right
side of the apartment, almost a part of the living room. The kitchen is
lit up by a hallogen lamp, resting next to the front door, pointed towards
it.


There's a knock on the door.

A few moments pass as he checks the monitor, before Quentin cracks open
the door a bit as a precursor to drawing it fully open. A faint smile as
he steps back to let the other man in, "Hey.. c'mon in."

Salem is his usual dour self in black and gray, dark glasses shadowing his
eyes. "Good evening, Quentin," he greets blandly as he enters. The glasses
come off and vanish into an inner pocket of his coat. "Been practicing?"

"Yeah, I have.. I think I can even manage to not fall over in wolf form
anymore," Quentin replies rather dryly, turning to walk back into the room
and asking, "Can I get you something to drink?"

Salem slips out of his coat and drapes it over the back of the couch. "No,
thank you. Have you gotten any further chance to work on language?"

Quentin turns easily on his heel, settling down to the couch's edge. "I've
been practicing the couple words you taught me," he allows, "While I've
been practicing the shifting stuff.. since I've got to be out of, uh,
homid form to do that anyway."

Salem nods, rubbing at his eyes as he takes a seat on the couch, the stone
face cracking for a moment or two. "I'm planning to speak to Rhiannon
about the status of the search for you. I believe that once things have
calmed down, we can start letting you get some fresh air." His lips twitch
into a tight, brief smile. "Such as there is." The smile's gone. "I've
also been thinking of moving you out of here."

"Yeah.." Quentin leans forwards a bit, elbows resting to his knees and
hands clasping just beneath his chin, "Rhi said I could stay with her if
Francisco moved out like he's been talking about. I'm kinda in the way
here anyway, with Jeremy and all.." He glances over worriedly, "Did you
hear he got mugged?"

Salem's expression sharpens, his head coming up. "He what? When?"

Quentin gives his head a slight shake, gesturing towards his bedroom.
"Yesterday. Rhi was here.. he got stabbed in the arm, said he was fine,
though." His lips purse tightly, and he looks over with a concerned
expression, "I'm kinda worried about him. He's being really.. fatalistic
lately."

Salem's mouth twists into a little grimace of disgust. "Part of his... new
fashion sense, I suspect. Hrmf." He looks toward the bedroom door, then
shakes his head.

"I mean, his whole response to getting mugged was 'I'm used to it'.."
Quentin shakes his head a bit, a frown pursing his lips, "I'd ask what his
problem was, but he doesn't really seem to talk to anyone anymore."

Salem's eyes narrow. "Not even that Bone Gnawer brat?" The Philodox rubs
at the back of his neck. "I'll speak with him." Then he pauses, as if
rethinking what he just said. "Hmn. Or someone will."

Quentin's lips curl up a bit at one side as he admits, "I haven't seen
Aiyana in a little bit, so.. I don't know if he's talking to her or not.
Thought I should let you know, in case he, like, tries to kill himself or
something stupid."

Salem nods slowly. "Ye-es... thank you." He glances toward Jeremy's door
again, then shakes his head and turns back to the cub, changing the
subject. "How many of the tribes do you know?"

Quentin frowns just a little, thinking for a moment. "There's the Glass
Walkers, the Bone Gnawers, the Fianna.. uh.. the Gaians.."

And then there is a knockin' on the door.

"Children of Gaia," Salem corrects, and then gets up to answer the door
after a quick check of the monitor to see who it is.

"Children of Gaia," Quentin repeats with a slight nod, adding, "Like
Alicia." A raise of his chin then, gaze considering the door for a moment
with a curious furrowing of his brow.

Rhiannon is still dressed for work, and in fact when the door opens she's
speaking into her cellphone. "Christ, Kim, just keep them there for--hang
on a second." As soon as she sees Salem, she puts her hand over the
receiver. "Hey. Can I harass you for a few minutes?" There's a sense of
urgency to her words, and she looks like she's itching to get somewhere.

Salem arches a brow. "Of course." He holds the door open for her to enter.

Quentin's lips purse tightly at that tone in Rhiannon's voice, sitting up
straighter and craning his neck to take a look past Salem to the kinfolk
woman.. a bit of concern showing in his face as he calls, "Hey, everything
alright..?"

Rhiannon returns to her conversation, stepping inside with quick steps.
"Okay I'm back. I know. Yes. No. *Definitely* not. Okay, can they get
there in ten? It's only six blocks to--fine. See you there." She shuts off
the phone and tucks it in her pocket, and gives Quentin a quick nod hello.
"Depends on your definition," the Kin answers, her voice still curt. She
re-orients on Salem and asks, "Has he told you about Jeremy?"

Salem closes the door behind the kinswoman and folds his arms across his
chest. He's all business, expression humorless and masklike. "Quentin said
he'd gotten mugged."

The response to his question only deepens Quentin's frown, shifting from
where he's settled and up to his feet in a single smooth movement.. just
listening, raking one hand back through his hair.

"Yeah," Rhiannon confirms, rubbing the back of her neck. "That in and of
itself isn't too shocking, but we were both here, and he was going to not
mention his injuries, or anything." Her voice betrays a significant level
of concern and irritation both.

Salem's lips thin. "So I heard." A glance at Quentin confirms where the
Philodox got his information. "He's been withdrawing lately."

Quentin just nods once, curtly, in acknowledgement of that. "I really
think something's got to be wrong with the guy.. he wasn't like that when
you guys first picked me up, and that was what, two weeks ago?"

Rhiannon's hurried movements from before melt into a posture of extreme
reluctance as she cuts to the chase. "I know I don't know him as well as
everyone else, but...I wanted to see if you thought we should get someone
who can sense the Wyrm, to have a look at him."

Salem's jaw clenches. "Do you think it's gone as far as that?" He rubs at
his beard, frowning. "Alicia knows how to sense the Enemy. I'm not certain
who else." He regards the kinswoman thoughtfully. "Have you spoken to that
Gnawer he associates with?"

Quentin's eyes widen just a bit at that, his lips pursing tightly for a
moment. "I don't think it's anything -that- seriously, but.." A grimace,
as he admits, "I don't know about this stuff as much as you do.."

Rhiannon chews on her lip. "I don't really know that it has--but I think
it's better to catch it before it *does*." At the mention of Aiyana, she
shakes her head. "I haven't, but I've been hoping to catch her somewhere
that he isn't, so I can ask if she's noticed anything."

Salem scowls. "Kaz will know where she is. Meanwhile, I'll get Alicia to
check him for taint." He gives the cub a quick glance, and when he turns
back to Rhiannon, his expression has darkened. "Quentin said you'd agreed
to let him stay with you."

"..if Francisco moved out with Jake, or whatever," Quentin adds onto that
as a swift addition to his words, pausing a moment before adding more
quietly, "I'll keep an eye on Jeremy for you if you want?"

"If you don't have anywhere else for him," Rhiannon elaborates. "That is,
by the way, the only reason I bring up having him checked--he's got a cub
with him right now. If anything's wrong on that level, we need to know
about it."

"_Exactly_." Apparantly, Salem's thoughts had been going along the same
train-track. The tension in his body language has increased. "And soon."
He examines Quentin critically.

Quentin's eyebrows raise in a slight arch at the appraising look, edging
back just a bit from that look from Salem. "..what?" His tone a touch
defensive.

Rhiannon glances at Quentin. "I don't think you need to follow him around,
but, if he keeps acting like he was last night, please tell someone.
Especially one of the elders." She shifts, her hurried mannerisms
returning, and looks at her watch with a muttered curse in Spanish. "If
you want to have him bunk with me just let me know. I have to get going."

"If Jeremy's become tainted, you're in danger," says the Philodox in a
tone which brooks no arguement. Then he turns back to Rhiannon, nodding
sharply. "Fine."

Quentin tips his head slightly to Rhiannon's words, and then shoots a
slightly worried glance in Salem's direction.. arms folding over his chest
as though hugging himself, asking warily, "Well.. I mean, should I be
sleeping with one eye open or something?"

Rhiannon pulls out her cellphone and heads for the door, dialing a number.
"I may not answer the phone too much tonight, but, I plan on being home by
midnight." She pauses at the sound of Quentin's voice, and glances at
Salem for an answer to that question.

Salem's face is tight, and he massages the knuckles of one hand
absent-mindedly. "I'll stay as long as I can tonight," he says at last,
and then looks at the cub. "But yes, you should be careful."

"Great.." Quentin drops back in a boneless heap against the couch, elbows
dropping down to his knees and face dropping into splayed hands. His voice
muffled a bit, "..well, I won't be sleeping well tonight."

Rhiannon puts her hand on the doorknob, but half-turns to address Quentin
one last time. "This may just be my paranoia, Quentin, so try not to treat
Jeremy like he's grown a tentacle, okay?" Her voice suggests some humor,
at least.

"Welcome to the war," says the Glass Walker, dryly.

Quentin peeks up past his fingertips, and replies rather ruefully, "If he
-does- grow a tentacle, I'll call you immediately." He pauses then and
asks carefully, "..uh. He's not likely to grow tentacles, is he?"

Salem simply arches a brow. His expression isn't encouraging.

"Maybe," Rhiannon says brightly. "But yes, you can call. Unless shit
really goes awry in the next, oh, half hour, I should be able to answer."

"...And I should be here for that long, at least," Salem notes.

Quentin's face vanishes beneath his fingers once more, a sigh spilling
over his palms. "Well," he murmurs, "At least he'd have a promising career
in hentai flicks."

At mention of hentai, Salem gets a look on his face that would curdle
milk. "Mnh."

Rhiannon makes a face. "Ugh, hentai. Let's not go there. Just, be
careful." With a final quasi-salute to the two Garou, Rhiannon swings out
of the apartment, already dialing a phone number on her cell. The door
shuts behind her soundly.

"See you around, Rhi," Quentin calls back over, pushing back to sprawl
back against the couch and gazing at the ceiling.

Salem inclines his head to the departing kinswoman. Once the door's closed
behind her, he turns to regard the sprawled cub. "Where were we?"

Quentin shakes his head ever so slightly, pushing himself up in a
straighter stance again and forcing a smile back towards Salem.
"Tribes..?"

Salem walks back toward the couch and resumes his seat. "Tribes, yes."
Shifting into glabro form, he repeats back the four tribes Quentin
mentioned already -- Glass Walkers, Bone Gnawers, Fianna, and Children of
Gaia -- and translates each into the Mother Tongue.

Quentin leans forwards slightly to listen to the words as they're spoken,
and then takes a deep breath and shifts.. a bit more smoothly than before,
but he's still not exactly swift changing out of his breed form still.
Clearing his throat, he repeats them each carefully.. only messing up a
bit at the end of the Children of Gaia, perhaps as the longest of them.

Quentin contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Quentin shifts into Glabro form.

Salem repeats it. His body language is shifting into teacher mode, sitting
forward with elbows resting on his knees and fingers steepled. One by one,
he lists the other tribes, speaking each name in English as well as Garou.
Black Furies. Get of Fenris. Red Talons. Silver Fangs. Silent Striders.
Shadow Lords. Uktena. Wendigo.

Quentin edges closer to the edge of the couch, his large hands clasping
together and his brow furrowing deeply as he listens to the philodox speak
the words. As Salem says each in turn, the cub repeats them carefully,
trying to get the inflection and tone just right. In general, he's not
doing bad at it either.

Salem doesn't smile, but still praises the cub with a curt, "Good. There
are four others who are lost to us. The White Howlers I've already told
you about. The Croaton died in self-sacrifice and vanished with the colony
at Roanoke. The Bunyip, from Australia, were the victims of the Wyrm and
our own paranoia. And the Stargazers have left us to persue their own
agenda." He repeats the names in both tongues, and it looks like the name
of the Stargazers leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

Quentin purses his lips in a slight frown then, though he repeats the
names of each slowly before asking the question on his mind. "Why did the
Stargazers leave..? Where'd they go, anyway?"

Salem shrugs. "Who really knows? Some say they went east, back to their
ancestral caerns in Tibet. Others claim they departed for the Far Umbra.
In either case, they're no longer a part of the greater war. A few have
stayed, like Rides-the-Wave-of-Fire of our own Sept, but only a few."

Quentin's frown deepens at that explaination, head tilting a little as he
asks, "Why would they do that? I mean.. how could they abandon the whole
war thing?"

Salem shrugs again, his face tight. "The Stargazers were always a strange
group. Esoterics and hermits. No doubt they thought they had a very good
reason for their desertion."

"Oh." Quentin purses his lips slightly and gives his head a shake, "Well..
anyway. Are there any other tribes to know about?"

"That's the lot," Salem says, leaning back against the couch. The
deliberately casual posture and civilized voice is at odds with the feral
brutishness of the form he's in.

Quentin frowns just a bit, fingers drumming against each other for a
moment before he repeats each of them in turn once more - slowly,
carefully. He stumbles here and there going through the list, and has to
ask for 'Get of Fenris' again, but manages however awkwardly.

Salem studies the cub's face as he goes back through the list. He repeats
where needed, quite patiently, and when Quentin's done, remarks, "Your
accent's getting better."

"I managed to get through French class without much problem," Quentin says
with a slight grin that reveals the sharper teeth of this form, though
there's a hint of pride in his manner, "I can do this."

"Of that," Salem says evenly, "I have no doubt. And if you do end up
rooming at Rhiannon's place, you can practice with Jacob."

[Handwaved: More linguistics and such with Quentin, at least until
Rhiannon gets home.]