I'll give it a try.

[flint_garou]

Somewhat of an understanding.
29 March, 2012
The moon is in the waxing Half (Philodox) Moon phase (45% full).

"Oh," and Stars snorts in a somewhat amused fashion. "That easy. Or parts easy, at least. Lots garou not know heritage until change. Lots garou also hear ancestors, especial garou with strong blood." Then he shrugs, "Have seen some ridden by old, old dead. Usually for special reason. Maybe worth investigating."

Hayden nods to this. "Until I figure that out, I don't think I am good for anyone to pack with. He won't shut up." She looks around at the furniture, frowning. "Maybe then I can find my purpose. I just don't think I have much of one right now."

Flint lets the front door to Edgewood clap shut behind him, pulling off his coat, and his hat, as he comes out of the mudroom. The teen's gotten a haircut, though. Rather than the long hair that'd previously framed his face, his hair now comes down in layers, the longest of which reaches just past his ears. And as a result, it pushes into his face even more. A glance goes between Hayden, and Stars, and the Glass Walker lingers at the edge of the room with a simple muttered, "Hi", rather than interrupt.

Another shrug, and then Stars gets to his feet, shaking out his coat to get it settled properly, "Purpose not always something find. Sometimes purpose something make. Hayden is Hayden. Up to Hayden to determine what that means. Not Starcaller, not missing family, not old ghost." A glance is turned to Flint, followed by a somewhat sardonic smile, then the Theurge shakes his head and turns to head out the way Flint just came in, "Think about self, Hayden. Good luck."

Hayden looks to the Gnawer and gives a faint nod, "Right. Thanks Stars." She turns then to look at the newcomer and settles more into her chair. "Hi."

Flint blinks a few times, and outright stares as Starcaller leaves. "Hi Starcaller-rhya, bye Starcaller-rhya," is offered, with a faint grimace, before Flint looks to Hayden, then looks about the room and moves to sit in a chair. "Heya, Hayden," he says. "Congrats and such, right?"

Hayden looks over, nodding a little. "Yeah I guess. Thanks." She draws her feet up onto the chair and wraps her arms around her legs. "Looking for Lex?"

Flint shakes his head. "No, I. No, actually. Not looking for anyone, waiting. Supposed to get a ride back to the city later, or something," he states with a shrug. "Mean time, I might as well, not be cold."

Hayden gives a nod to the other. "It's not cold in here. Where in the city are you going?"

Flint grins, just a little, easing slightly. "Well, home, for one. Uh. The building my tribe has," he clarifies, given that Flint still says the word 'home' like it's a foreign language and foreign concept.

Hayden seems to catch that little nuance. "You don't consider it home? Why?" The tone comes off with vague curiosity, not any real sense of interrogation.

Flint shakes his had, at this, and one hand comes to push at his forehead. "No, I do. I just…" a faint frown. "It's complicated. It. It's really strange still, having somewhere I. That I feel safe enough to call home. I never did, before."

Hayden brings her lower lip in to chew on for a moment. "Why?" There seems to be a weighted intention behind the question, but it doesn't come out in any sort of maliciousness.

Flint glances up from his lap to look at Hayden, and pushes his hand through his hair. "It. Because, my mom didn't ever want me, or anything. Once it was all said, done. We moved, we never stayed anywhere, and she didn't give a damn." It doesn't seem like something that's said easily, and then Flint chews his upper lip, fidgets a little.

"But she was your mom?" she asks. "/Your/ mom." The girl starts to look the boy over more carefully now, almost as if she were trying to read through him. "What about your dad?"

Flint makes a half a face. "For all the good it. It did," he responds. "She was. But. She's also, normal. Hated me. I was a burden, resented me, and. Delirium, curse, all. All that." Flint looks at Hayden every so often to meet her gaze, but not all the time. "Dunno. Dad left. I don't remember him."

"So she wasn't kin?" a thoughtful hmm passes over the young, toque-wearing halfmoon. After a long moment, the Shadow Lord looks up at him. "I know how that is. I moved a lot growing up also. To whole new families, not just to different houses or cities." She cants her head then, "Do you trust your tribe here? And do you think the friends you make will be true?"

Flint nods, shrugs. "I trust my tribemates," he responds, a subtle difference in the two. "I. Yeah. My mom wasn't really there, anyway. My aunt, whatever boyfriend was her dealer. Sometimes I. Went and stayed on the streets rather than go 'home'." The quotes are audible.

Hayden nods lightly, "Let me ask you this straightly. Do you /want/ to make friends here?" This question is quickly amended with a, "And why?"

The Glass Walker considers this question carefully. Very carefully, it would seem, before Flint nods and looks over to Hayden. "I do," he says. "And, amongst other things, because. Because I keep having instinct and memory telling me that, we're not. We aren't meant to be alone, we're meant to pack, to form friendships, that. Kinda hard to ignore sometimes."

"Yeah?" Hayden considers this a little more. "So are you just following instinct or are you, Flint, wanting those things too?"

Flint purses his lips. "I don't always know. I want them, but do I want them because of what the instinct and memory. Hard to tell." A glance is angled over to the halfmoon, guarded but definitely observant.

Hayden goes quiet for a long while after that, just sitting there with her arms around her legs, thinking. "So how are you going to choose your pack? Pick people you like?"

Flint raises his brows a little, still considering. "That's only part of it. People who I can trust to have my back, who. I can trust, in general. Who I can work with." Then, Flint looks at Hayden. "You're having. You aren't so sure about what, packing, are you." It's mostly observation, part question. "Because of what you're being told," and he taps his own forehead to indicate.

Hayden shrugs a little. "I don't trust anyone. Not really. And even if I did, I know what will happen. Things will change. They always do. Then you have the pain of betrayal."

Flint remains silent after she's spoken, for a moment. "Why're you so sure, that. They always do?" There's no judgement in the question, overall.

"From experience. I learned pretty quick that the best way to keep from getting hurt or betrayed, is to not get close in the first place. How can you pack with people if you can't get close?" Hayden lets out a slow sigh.

Flint nods. "But, why are you so sure that, that everyone here, is going to do the same?" he asks. "I. I may not always get along with you, or what. Doesn't mean that I'm going to go and stab you in the back. Even. If you are a Shadow Lord."

Another shrug follows. "I wouldn't be so sure. That's just the kind of thing I am talking about. People get close. Then they turn on you. And I cannot …" she stops herself short, seeming unwilling to continue the comment.

Flint sighs, quietly. "'s what your experience has told you," Flint says, with some understanding in his voice. "But. Not all. Experience doesn't rule the future, you know. I. No one was ever there, for me, before. When. If I needed people to be." The young Galliard pauses, then continues. "And, but. Now? I'm learning otherwise. It's slow, and it's weird as hell," he states, with a tiny smile, "but. Not everyone's going to turn on you."

Hayden sniffs a bit, then turns to look out the window. "It only takes one," she says rather idly, eyes closing. "I can't take that risk."

He's not going to push the point, it seems. Flint makes a vague sund of agreement, and shrugs. "You'll. Figure out what is right, for you," he offers. "There's no. One've my elders told me, there's no rush with things, even. Being an adult now, doesn't mean you need to pack right away, doesn't mean you're … expected to. Know everything."

"Or anything." She grumbles. "What do you hear?" Hayden looks up at this, eyes meeting the others.

Flint blinks, tilts his head to the side. "Pardon?" he asks, quiet. "You mean..?

"Yes." That's all she says in answer, seemingly unwilling to speak it out in plain terms.

Flint nods, and eventually pulls his knees up to his chest. "Small things, half opinions. Knowing parts of melodies and songs, before. I've ever heard them. Memories of stuff I've never. I didn't do, flashes of faces, and places I've never been. And railroads. Sometimes it's related to whatever's going on, most of the time it's just, there."

"Ever a voice? Talking to you directly?" she asks then, more curious.

Flint frowns slightly. "Even when I do, I can't get all of it. It's. For me, if this," and the galliard gestures in front of him, "is everything in my head, the. All the ancestor stuff is here," and then he points right at the edge of his field of vision. "Right where I can't quite ignore it, right where it. Can grab my attention, but. Mostly, not talking to me. Talking at me would. Is more accurate."

Hayden gives a nod then, "What do you to do control it, or push it away?"

Flint nods, slowly. "It. It depends, sometimes… that's real hard," he admits. "Though it helps that. Most've my elders know, to remind me not to let the Garou in my head define me. I. I go punch the punching bag. Or run, or. Tell them to shut up," he says, with a faint grin, "though, that never works well."

"I need to figure this out," she admits solemnly, then turns her attention on the other. "I don't even know why I am telling you any of this. It's just he tells me that he is my guardian, and that I cannot die. So everything that happens, he tries to influence my choices, and opines what will be the safest course of action." She sighs. "And sometimes, he just wants his chair in a different spot."

Flint nods. "And it's hard for me to ignore, let alone… you hear him more, than I hear mine. A lot more." There is understanding in his voice, quiet and hesitating though it is. "I get it, though."

"Do you ever feel like it makes you look crazy? I mean to others? Like they see you as a problem instead of anything else?"

Flint grimaces and nods. "You an' me both," the Glass Walker says. "I. Sometimes I wonder if. It makes me a liability, or something. And, I still can't always remember to talk back at them in my head not. Not aloud."

"I understand that." She sighs, "Alright." A moment later she's clearing her throat. "This is to be kept between us, I assume you're agreeable to that?"

He nods, "I was. Yeah, hoping you'd say such," Flint responds. "It's not exactly something most people even, understand." There is a small smile offered over, as Flint leans back in his chair.

Hayden nods. "That's true. Nik told me it is a boon, once I learn to harness it right. It's like having more heads together to come up with solutions. So. Maybe it just takes time to learn."

Flint smiles ever so slightly. "Mouse told me it's helpful more, more often than not," he agrees. "I'm still learning too, anyway."

"Maybe you could help with something?" She looks over then, "If you were bored or something."

Flint nods. "Sure," he says. "I think I can do that. What's up?"

Hayden bites at her lip a while longer, then pulls from the chair and leans forward, bending to pull a note book out of her bag. "I have these names. And the name of the voice I hear. But I have no way of finding out anything about them. Could you?"

Another nod from the boy, and Flint pulls out a sketchbook from his sweatshirt, and a pencil. "I can try," he says, flipping to a new page. "It might take a while, but. I can try. And maybe some've the. More travelled, of my auspice, might know."

Hayden nods. "I think Whisper might be looking into it. But I didn't ask her to. And as a Glass Walker, your ability to utilize more modern, technical means of searching might prove useful." She opens her notebook and points to a list of names, with years dated next to each. There are four names, spanning just shy of 16 years in time. "These are the families I stayed with. I want to know about them. If there is a garou connection to them. I think there is." Then she writes down, Gregory Berezin. "That's the voice I hear. He's Shadow Lord. Or was. I want to know about that family too."

Flint nods, before getting up and moving to where he can quickly copy down what's on the page into his sketchbook. Another nod follows. "Yeah. And. Is… is it okay, with you, if I ask Kavi and Kaz, for help on this, if needed?" A pause, and it seems Flint's serious about making sure who he goes to is okay with her. "Kaz travelled a lot more, she. Knows people, and all."

Hayden thinks about this, "Just Kaz. If she is more travelled, then ok. But only if you need to. And." She pauses, frowning, eyes closing for a minute. "Be careful. Too many noses poking into this is going to be a problem."

Flint nods, a furrow of brow but no objection. "Yes," he acknowledges, scribbling a few more things into the sketchbook, then sitting back down. "Gotchya. I. I can't promise much, but I can try." There's a small smile offered to the halfmoon, once Flint's silent.

Hayden nods to the other, and a small, one sided grin tips her own mouth. "Thanks." She clears her throat then, looking around. "Think the new arrangement is going to be a problem?"

Flint shakes his head, then looks about. "I like it," he says, after some study of the furniture. "Plus. You didn't break anything… or anyone. So, I think it's fine."

Hayden almost grins wide at that, but settles for a nod instead. "Good point. Alright. I'm gonna go for a run I think. I'll see you around."

Flint does grin, and holds up one hand, in perhaps caution. "Be careful've the bawn. It. The wasps are here, the bawn got a lot worse, and. Also, don't eat the bawn fruit, and. But have a good run."