Flint Madden (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flint_garou) wrote2012-09-28 11:27 am
flint_garou) wrote2012-09-28 11:27 am
Fire and ice.
Running, and analogies. I'm gladd Norman-rhya's my friend.
28 September, 2012
The moon is in the waxing Full (Ahroun) Moon phase (85% full).
Moon's getting full now, and that brings the feisty Get Ahroun back to Edgewood. She's in the kitchen currently, chugging some milk by the container.
The sound of the shower from the second floor cuts off, and several minutes later, Flint comes down the stairs of the house, turning towards the kitchen. The Walker runs his fingers through his still wet hair to comb it out, and is quiet, and thoughtful, but Emma does get a wave and nod of greeting from the cliath as he goes towards the fridge.
Moros lets himself in through the front door, ducking slightly, stringy black hair swinging across his face. Scowling and slightly tense, the monster looks about as if searching for someone. Or a lack of someone.
Emma looks over the edge of her milk carton and eyes the cliath, giving a grunt around an audible swallow. Pink cheeks suggest either recent activity or irritation as she finally pulls the carton away and closes it, handing it off to the other with every expectation he'll take it and put it away. She's about to say something when another newcomer enters and she puts her eyes on him, letting them narrow thoughtfully as he makes his way in.
Flint chews on his lower lip when he's handed the milk, but given as he's at the fridge anyway, puts it away without protest. And then glances over his shoulder towards Moros, and then returns his attention to fidgeting around in the refrigerator. "Morning," he offers, without much real enthusiasm for it. Flint gets a soda, then moves to lean on the table, glancing between the two Ahroun.
Moros gives Flint a good long stare, his distaste of the Walker Galliard rather obvious in his tight scowl. Eventually he turns his eyes to Emma, sizing her up for a moment or two before flicking his hair back and giving his introduction. "Moros Bad Moon Rising. Metis Ahroun of the Black Furies."
Emma gives the Walker a nod, assumably in thanks of handling the return of the milk to the fridge, then turns toward Moros and watches his gauging of her. When she moves to meet his eyes, she has to look up. Way up. Despite that, she meets the gaze with an easiness about her posture that is only threatened by the rage and pull of The moon that the whole house is likely dealing with. "Emma Mahler. Adren Ahroun of the Get. Called Heart of Fire Forges the Stone Spirit." A half beat of a pause, "Heard your name mentioned once or twice. Friend of Sue's right?"
Flint meets Moros's gaze for a moment, then looks back to Emma, as if realising something. "Flint, named Carves the Requiem for Cockroach's Children. Cliath and galliard of the Glass Walkers. Beta of Unfettered and child of Merlin." Beyond the fact that his usual stutter and hesitation are all but missing, there is something subtle that changes in the Glass Walker. Control in his demeanor, and confidence, and surety.
"Tribe-brother," growls Moros, answering Emma. Or perhaps correcting her? He doesn't seem like the kind of person who'd be anyone's friend.
The Get first looks to Flint, "Right. Met you before when Devon was getting rocked off the bawn fruit. Dumbass." The name seems to be in regard to the latter though, instead of the Walker present. The Fury gets a nod attached to a huh. "That a correction or just semantics? He thinks pretty highly of you."
Norman arrives almost silently although without any attempt at true stealth, padding barefoot down the stairs without doing anything to overtly draw attention to himself.
"My tribe-brother and I have our… disagreements," is all Moros seems to be willing to say on the subject. Fortunately, Norman's arrival allows for a distraction; he stares at the Theurge for a second or two before giving a jerking nod of acknowledgement.
Flint furrows his brow in thought and crosses back over to the refrigerator, finishing off the soda that he's had for not too long and getting out two bottles of beer. One is offered in Norman's direction, with a faint grin; Flint at least is happy to see the Godi.
Emma glances at her own tribe-brother as she answers Moros, "Yeah sometimes the differences between tribemates can be pretty Jekyll and Hyde. Well, good to put a face to the name at least. Course, putting the name to a friggin' huge body may be a better representation. You're not in near-man either, are you?"
"Moros." Norman returns the Fury's nod of greeting with equal curtness, though not without respect. Flint earns himself another nod, this one with one mouth-corner upturned and a hand raised in acceptance. "Flint. Emma." The latter gets the third nod of the day, one as one Tribemate to another on easy terms.
Moros shakes his head at Emma, his mouth twisting into a crooked, unpleasant kind of smile. "No."
Another faint hint of a grin towards Norman, and then Flint moves to lean against a nearby wall, pulling around in his pocket for keys until he finds a bottle-opener to open his own beer. The cliath Glass Walker seems controlled at least if not relaxed, indeed he eyes Moros with a significant amount of distaste for a moment, but otherwise remains silent.
The door opens, and the slender form of Kitty bounces in, with a wave and a call of thanks to someone—clearly whoever she talked into ferrying her between A and B today. She comes to a halt, taking in the people she knows, and those she doesn't. Moros draws most of her attention, as she looks up—very up—towards him. A blink, and then she pads in, pausing before she heads towards Emma with a smile. "Hey." she murmurs. "Should I do the intro thing or…?" She trails off, not quite sure of when she should and shouldn't be introducing herself, and deferring to the most senior person she's aware of to check.
Emma returns the grin to Moros compliments of one her trademark smirks, "That's gotta come in handy sometimes. And be a bitch most of the others. At least I know who to call when the big shit goes down." The tension in the kitchen is what one might expect given the amount of garou cramming in on a near full moon. As Kitty arrives, she gives the cub a nod, "Safe now, yeah. They're all vouched for."
Norman's eyes turn to Kitty as he's in the act of crunching the top off his bottle, using his teeth. He finishes that task a little more slowly as he glances to Emma then back to the cub. "After you," he invites, although it's not really that inviting, Then again, it's probably about as inviting as he ever gets, given the way his face settles so naturally into a perpetual near-frown. It's lightened just a touch when he glances to Flint to offer a quiet "Thanks," and a salute of the now open bottle.
Moros tilts his head at Kitty, the half-smile he'd given Emma fading as he considers the girl much the way a machete-wielding maniac in a hockey mask might size up a co-ed with a twisted ankle.
Flint lifts his own bottle ever so slightly in return to Norman, before taking a sip. "Heya Kitty," he says, relatively quiet.
A grin flickers across Kitty's face, "Everyone always makes me go first." she notes ruefully, "I'm sure it's just to stop me cribbing!" She straightens herself up a little, "I am Katherine Gabriel, generally called Kitty. I am a theurge cub of the Children of Gaia, and my cub-name is Bookworm." She inclines her head politely towards the pair of unknowns, managing not to gulp or step to hide behind Emma at the pair of looks. It takes some effort, but she manages to meet their gaze calmly. Flint gets a grin, and a wiggle of her fingers.
Emma nods to the cub as she settles back toward a counter, presses both hands to it and uses them to hoist herself up onto it. The Get Ahroun watches all the interchanges as carefully as she can, though she no doubts misses some of the nuances. "This your first full moon in the know Kit?" she asks the claimed Gaian.
"Norman Makes-The-Oath-And-Turns-The-Wheel," the Godi announces once the cub has responded to his Tribe-mate, his stance slipping towards that of military attention. "Adren Godi of Great Fenrir's blood, Keeper of the Gate at mighty Yggdrasil's Root, Beta of Coup de Grace and son of Weasel." He pauses, and continues in slightly less formal tones, "Norman. Oath-Ring. Third-ranked crescent-moon of the Get of Fenris. Gatekeeper of the Hidden Walk. Second in command of the war-pack Coup de Grace, under the spirit totem Weasel."
"Moros Bad Moon Rising," says the seven foot monster, flicking oily tendrils of black hair out of his face. "Cliath Ahroun Metis of the Black Furies."
Flint watches the introductions go on again, more attention paid to Norman than to Moros by far, and then he says—wording clearly careful—to Kitty, "This goes back to what we were talking about the other day, with The moon and all."
Kitty is clearly confused at Norman's original introduction, but her brow clears as he clarifies. She inclines her head more deeply to the Adren, and then offers a shy smile towards both him and Moros. "It's a pleasure to meet you." she murmurs. She nods to Flint, apparently understanding whatever he didn't say, before answering Emma, "It is." she agrees. "So it's all an interestingly new experience for me. Jacob-rhya has given me a pile of books to read though, so I'll probably just be loitering in corners until the moon wanes a bit again."
Emma watches Norman recite his introduction, that smirk coming up again. "You could throw the entire reading of the Poetic Edda up against your intro and yours would still take longer." She leans back at that and turns toward Kitty. "About now, this kitchen is like a Minnesota lake hitting late April. Ice is getting dangerously thin, but the water underneath is still dangerously cold. Don't freak out about it. Just mind what's going on."
"Running," Norman says in a near-grunt, Emma's remark getting a vaguely puzzled eyebrow-raise. Then he chugs a few gulps of beer, and sheds very little more light on what he's on about by adding, "artwork."
Moros's lips stretch in a thin, crooked leer (or maybe that's a grin?) at Emma's analogy. "First time I've ever heard it compared to ice," the monster notes. "Usually it's the opposite."
Flint scowls slightly at something that Norman says, irritable and restless. "Running," he agrees pensively, and then tilts his head to look up at the Godi for a moment. "Later, could we…? Since, stuff and all." The question is posed quietly and without too much regard for the others in the room, though Emma's comments earn a nod and more composed words from the galliard. "The analogy works. Both can break with little provocation."
Kitty nods to Emma's words, "Well, as Edgewood is still my primary home for now, I'll have to learn to watch the currents, and adapt as necessary. Which is probably exactly why Topsy-rhya told me to stay put here. I have to learn. And best to learn early, I think." She pads to find herself a glass of water, "Would anyone like anything to drink?" she wonders as she does so.
Emma chuckles, "Yeah, must be that Norse heritage influencing the analogy." She waits just a half beat, "Actually, just seems more appropriate for me. I know it's there. I see it under the reflection of the ice. And I know a wrong step and it's going to swallow me up." A glance to Kitty, "Or anyone else who manages to step wrong on it." At this she grins, "Don't worry Kit. Been forever since I frenzied. Let alone on a cub."
"Sure," Norman answers Flint, and then, in stark contrast to the wordiness of his introduction, Kitty gets two words: "Got. Thanks." Emma gets a sidelong, thoughtful glance, but no comment.
Moros simply gives his head a curt shake at Kitty's offer. The ugly grin's faded, and the big Ahroun frowns at nothing in particular.
"Thanks but," Flint says, a small gesture with his own drink as he tips the beer back to take a long sip from it. Norman gets a nod, and a bit of a grin, and then Emma gets a nod. "Interesting," the Walker says. "But it does make sense, I suppose. It's more like smoldering coals, for me. Usual analogy I guess." There's a shrug.
Kitty pours water just for herself, adding lemon and ice, which clinks quietly in her glass. She crosses back across the kitchen, and moves to lean against a wall near Emma. "I shall try and avoid irritating you, Emma. Of course, I try and do that anyhow, we've already established I don't even want to fight a bunny, let alone an Adren." Her tones are dryly amused, but she fades from the conversation then a bit, intrigued by the comparison analogies.
The female Get reaches a hand out to squeeze Kitty's shoulder in what must be an encouraging gesture. "I know, just pointing out that the ice gets a bit trickier the more people you got standing on it." She looks around then, eyes shifting from her tribemate and Flint, then to Moros and back to Kitty. Tap tap. Tap tap. Silence. Finally Emma breaks it, "Right then. Dead silence certainly doesn't help. Someone say something interesting."
"I once met a spirit of silence," Norman notes. "It was… tricky, communicating."
Moros squints over at Norman. "How did you?"
Flint leans against the wall, and says, "Something interesting." Clearly, by the tone of the teen's voice, it's intended as a joke, if a little bit of a tense one, and then he quiets to let Norman talk.
"I actually thought the conversation was interesting already," Kitty notes to Emma, with a gentle smile. "And I think Norman-rhya just won the toss on interesting conversational topics!"
Emma casts a little flicker of a glare at Flint, but relents to focus in on Norman. "Random encounter, or were you after something with it?'
The Godi doesn't reply right away. It wold take someone who knows him very well, or who can read people very well, to detect the hint of amusement buried deeply beneath his habitual frown, as he gives Moros a questioning look, and shifts his weight subtly to go from the formality of the parade-ground to a slightly more relaxed partial turn of the shoulder and hip. "I was exploring," the Godi replies after that pause. "I understood it, by listening with eyes, and nose, and brain. Most things don't speak. Lots of things don't make noises we can hear. I learned a lot, from silence." Then he returns to that selfsame state himself, conversational energy exhausted for the moment.
Moros regards the Theurge for a long several heartbeats, just staring—not challengingly, though gazes from the big greasy-haired metis are never particularly comforting. He nods, eventually, and wanders off toward the back door.
Flint finishes off his beer, and then looks between Emma and Kitty for a long moment while he goes to throw the bottle in the recycling. Flint does seem to ease a little as Moros leaves, scowling at the door the Fury left through, then returns to linger near the Godi. "Shall we?" he asks, quietly.
Kitty lifts her hand to wave to Flint, and inclines her head towards the others. Not quite sure enough of herself to give Emma a hug. Grouchy-full-moon types and all. "I'd best grab a shower, before I head back into lupus." she smiles. "So if you'll all excuse me?" She heads towards the stairs, planning on heading up.
"Sure." Norman aims his now-empty bottle in a throw that lands it neatly in the trash, gives a nod of farewell to Emma and the cub, and makes for the front door. "Gaia watch."
Emma watches the kitchen empty like an inflatable kiddie pool sat on by a large dog. She nods to the departing, then turns to Kitty. "Sure thing Kit. See ya Norman, Flint."
Flint waves to Kitty and Emma, and then turns to follow Norman out, sweatshirt dropped atop an out of the way chair in the living room on the way out.
28 September, 2012
The moon is in the waxing Full (Ahroun) Moon phase (85% full).
Moon's getting full now, and that brings the feisty Get Ahroun back to Edgewood. She's in the kitchen currently, chugging some milk by the container.
The sound of the shower from the second floor cuts off, and several minutes later, Flint comes down the stairs of the house, turning towards the kitchen. The Walker runs his fingers through his still wet hair to comb it out, and is quiet, and thoughtful, but Emma does get a wave and nod of greeting from the cliath as he goes towards the fridge.
Moros lets himself in through the front door, ducking slightly, stringy black hair swinging across his face. Scowling and slightly tense, the monster looks about as if searching for someone. Or a lack of someone.
Emma looks over the edge of her milk carton and eyes the cliath, giving a grunt around an audible swallow. Pink cheeks suggest either recent activity or irritation as she finally pulls the carton away and closes it, handing it off to the other with every expectation he'll take it and put it away. She's about to say something when another newcomer enters and she puts her eyes on him, letting them narrow thoughtfully as he makes his way in.
Flint chews on his lower lip when he's handed the milk, but given as he's at the fridge anyway, puts it away without protest. And then glances over his shoulder towards Moros, and then returns his attention to fidgeting around in the refrigerator. "Morning," he offers, without much real enthusiasm for it. Flint gets a soda, then moves to lean on the table, glancing between the two Ahroun.
Moros gives Flint a good long stare, his distaste of the Walker Galliard rather obvious in his tight scowl. Eventually he turns his eyes to Emma, sizing her up for a moment or two before flicking his hair back and giving his introduction. "Moros Bad Moon Rising. Metis Ahroun of the Black Furies."
Emma gives the Walker a nod, assumably in thanks of handling the return of the milk to the fridge, then turns toward Moros and watches his gauging of her. When she moves to meet his eyes, she has to look up. Way up. Despite that, she meets the gaze with an easiness about her posture that is only threatened by the rage and pull of The moon that the whole house is likely dealing with. "Emma Mahler. Adren Ahroun of the Get. Called Heart of Fire Forges the Stone Spirit." A half beat of a pause, "Heard your name mentioned once or twice. Friend of Sue's right?"
Flint meets Moros's gaze for a moment, then looks back to Emma, as if realising something. "Flint, named Carves the Requiem for Cockroach's Children. Cliath and galliard of the Glass Walkers. Beta of Unfettered and child of Merlin." Beyond the fact that his usual stutter and hesitation are all but missing, there is something subtle that changes in the Glass Walker. Control in his demeanor, and confidence, and surety.
"Tribe-brother," growls Moros, answering Emma. Or perhaps correcting her? He doesn't seem like the kind of person who'd be anyone's friend.
The Get first looks to Flint, "Right. Met you before when Devon was getting rocked off the bawn fruit. Dumbass." The name seems to be in regard to the latter though, instead of the Walker present. The Fury gets a nod attached to a huh. "That a correction or just semantics? He thinks pretty highly of you."
Norman arrives almost silently although without any attempt at true stealth, padding barefoot down the stairs without doing anything to overtly draw attention to himself.
"My tribe-brother and I have our… disagreements," is all Moros seems to be willing to say on the subject. Fortunately, Norman's arrival allows for a distraction; he stares at the Theurge for a second or two before giving a jerking nod of acknowledgement.
Flint furrows his brow in thought and crosses back over to the refrigerator, finishing off the soda that he's had for not too long and getting out two bottles of beer. One is offered in Norman's direction, with a faint grin; Flint at least is happy to see the Godi.
Emma glances at her own tribe-brother as she answers Moros, "Yeah sometimes the differences between tribemates can be pretty Jekyll and Hyde. Well, good to put a face to the name at least. Course, putting the name to a friggin' huge body may be a better representation. You're not in near-man either, are you?"
"Moros." Norman returns the Fury's nod of greeting with equal curtness, though not without respect. Flint earns himself another nod, this one with one mouth-corner upturned and a hand raised in acceptance. "Flint. Emma." The latter gets the third nod of the day, one as one Tribemate to another on easy terms.
Moros shakes his head at Emma, his mouth twisting into a crooked, unpleasant kind of smile. "No."
Another faint hint of a grin towards Norman, and then Flint moves to lean against a nearby wall, pulling around in his pocket for keys until he finds a bottle-opener to open his own beer. The cliath Glass Walker seems controlled at least if not relaxed, indeed he eyes Moros with a significant amount of distaste for a moment, but otherwise remains silent.
The door opens, and the slender form of Kitty bounces in, with a wave and a call of thanks to someone—clearly whoever she talked into ferrying her between A and B today. She comes to a halt, taking in the people she knows, and those she doesn't. Moros draws most of her attention, as she looks up—very up—towards him. A blink, and then she pads in, pausing before she heads towards Emma with a smile. "Hey." she murmurs. "Should I do the intro thing or…?" She trails off, not quite sure of when she should and shouldn't be introducing herself, and deferring to the most senior person she's aware of to check.
Emma returns the grin to Moros compliments of one her trademark smirks, "That's gotta come in handy sometimes. And be a bitch most of the others. At least I know who to call when the big shit goes down." The tension in the kitchen is what one might expect given the amount of garou cramming in on a near full moon. As Kitty arrives, she gives the cub a nod, "Safe now, yeah. They're all vouched for."
Norman's eyes turn to Kitty as he's in the act of crunching the top off his bottle, using his teeth. He finishes that task a little more slowly as he glances to Emma then back to the cub. "After you," he invites, although it's not really that inviting, Then again, it's probably about as inviting as he ever gets, given the way his face settles so naturally into a perpetual near-frown. It's lightened just a touch when he glances to Flint to offer a quiet "Thanks," and a salute of the now open bottle.
Moros tilts his head at Kitty, the half-smile he'd given Emma fading as he considers the girl much the way a machete-wielding maniac in a hockey mask might size up a co-ed with a twisted ankle.
Flint lifts his own bottle ever so slightly in return to Norman, before taking a sip. "Heya Kitty," he says, relatively quiet.
A grin flickers across Kitty's face, "Everyone always makes me go first." she notes ruefully, "I'm sure it's just to stop me cribbing!" She straightens herself up a little, "I am Katherine Gabriel, generally called Kitty. I am a theurge cub of the Children of Gaia, and my cub-name is Bookworm." She inclines her head politely towards the pair of unknowns, managing not to gulp or step to hide behind Emma at the pair of looks. It takes some effort, but she manages to meet their gaze calmly. Flint gets a grin, and a wiggle of her fingers.
Emma nods to the cub as she settles back toward a counter, presses both hands to it and uses them to hoist herself up onto it. The Get Ahroun watches all the interchanges as carefully as she can, though she no doubts misses some of the nuances. "This your first full moon in the know Kit?" she asks the claimed Gaian.
"Norman Makes-The-Oath-And-Turns-The-Wheel," the Godi announces once the cub has responded to his Tribe-mate, his stance slipping towards that of military attention. "Adren Godi of Great Fenrir's blood, Keeper of the Gate at mighty Yggdrasil's Root, Beta of Coup de Grace and son of Weasel." He pauses, and continues in slightly less formal tones, "Norman. Oath-Ring. Third-ranked crescent-moon of the Get of Fenris. Gatekeeper of the Hidden Walk. Second in command of the war-pack Coup de Grace, under the spirit totem Weasel."
"Moros Bad Moon Rising," says the seven foot monster, flicking oily tendrils of black hair out of his face. "Cliath Ahroun Metis of the Black Furies."
Flint watches the introductions go on again, more attention paid to Norman than to Moros by far, and then he says—wording clearly careful—to Kitty, "This goes back to what we were talking about the other day, with The moon and all."
Kitty is clearly confused at Norman's original introduction, but her brow clears as he clarifies. She inclines her head more deeply to the Adren, and then offers a shy smile towards both him and Moros. "It's a pleasure to meet you." she murmurs. She nods to Flint, apparently understanding whatever he didn't say, before answering Emma, "It is." she agrees. "So it's all an interestingly new experience for me. Jacob-rhya has given me a pile of books to read though, so I'll probably just be loitering in corners until the moon wanes a bit again."
Emma watches Norman recite his introduction, that smirk coming up again. "You could throw the entire reading of the Poetic Edda up against your intro and yours would still take longer." She leans back at that and turns toward Kitty. "About now, this kitchen is like a Minnesota lake hitting late April. Ice is getting dangerously thin, but the water underneath is still dangerously cold. Don't freak out about it. Just mind what's going on."
"Running," Norman says in a near-grunt, Emma's remark getting a vaguely puzzled eyebrow-raise. Then he chugs a few gulps of beer, and sheds very little more light on what he's on about by adding, "artwork."
Moros's lips stretch in a thin, crooked leer (or maybe that's a grin?) at Emma's analogy. "First time I've ever heard it compared to ice," the monster notes. "Usually it's the opposite."
Flint scowls slightly at something that Norman says, irritable and restless. "Running," he agrees pensively, and then tilts his head to look up at the Godi for a moment. "Later, could we…? Since, stuff and all." The question is posed quietly and without too much regard for the others in the room, though Emma's comments earn a nod and more composed words from the galliard. "The analogy works. Both can break with little provocation."
Kitty nods to Emma's words, "Well, as Edgewood is still my primary home for now, I'll have to learn to watch the currents, and adapt as necessary. Which is probably exactly why Topsy-rhya told me to stay put here. I have to learn. And best to learn early, I think." She pads to find herself a glass of water, "Would anyone like anything to drink?" she wonders as she does so.
Emma chuckles, "Yeah, must be that Norse heritage influencing the analogy." She waits just a half beat, "Actually, just seems more appropriate for me. I know it's there. I see it under the reflection of the ice. And I know a wrong step and it's going to swallow me up." A glance to Kitty, "Or anyone else who manages to step wrong on it." At this she grins, "Don't worry Kit. Been forever since I frenzied. Let alone on a cub."
"Sure," Norman answers Flint, and then, in stark contrast to the wordiness of his introduction, Kitty gets two words: "Got. Thanks." Emma gets a sidelong, thoughtful glance, but no comment.
Moros simply gives his head a curt shake at Kitty's offer. The ugly grin's faded, and the big Ahroun frowns at nothing in particular.
"Thanks but," Flint says, a small gesture with his own drink as he tips the beer back to take a long sip from it. Norman gets a nod, and a bit of a grin, and then Emma gets a nod. "Interesting," the Walker says. "But it does make sense, I suppose. It's more like smoldering coals, for me. Usual analogy I guess." There's a shrug.
Kitty pours water just for herself, adding lemon and ice, which clinks quietly in her glass. She crosses back across the kitchen, and moves to lean against a wall near Emma. "I shall try and avoid irritating you, Emma. Of course, I try and do that anyhow, we've already established I don't even want to fight a bunny, let alone an Adren." Her tones are dryly amused, but she fades from the conversation then a bit, intrigued by the comparison analogies.
The female Get reaches a hand out to squeeze Kitty's shoulder in what must be an encouraging gesture. "I know, just pointing out that the ice gets a bit trickier the more people you got standing on it." She looks around then, eyes shifting from her tribemate and Flint, then to Moros and back to Kitty. Tap tap. Tap tap. Silence. Finally Emma breaks it, "Right then. Dead silence certainly doesn't help. Someone say something interesting."
"I once met a spirit of silence," Norman notes. "It was… tricky, communicating."
Moros squints over at Norman. "How did you?"
Flint leans against the wall, and says, "Something interesting." Clearly, by the tone of the teen's voice, it's intended as a joke, if a little bit of a tense one, and then he quiets to let Norman talk.
"I actually thought the conversation was interesting already," Kitty notes to Emma, with a gentle smile. "And I think Norman-rhya just won the toss on interesting conversational topics!"
Emma casts a little flicker of a glare at Flint, but relents to focus in on Norman. "Random encounter, or were you after something with it?'
The Godi doesn't reply right away. It wold take someone who knows him very well, or who can read people very well, to detect the hint of amusement buried deeply beneath his habitual frown, as he gives Moros a questioning look, and shifts his weight subtly to go from the formality of the parade-ground to a slightly more relaxed partial turn of the shoulder and hip. "I was exploring," the Godi replies after that pause. "I understood it, by listening with eyes, and nose, and brain. Most things don't speak. Lots of things don't make noises we can hear. I learned a lot, from silence." Then he returns to that selfsame state himself, conversational energy exhausted for the moment.
Moros regards the Theurge for a long several heartbeats, just staring—not challengingly, though gazes from the big greasy-haired metis are never particularly comforting. He nods, eventually, and wanders off toward the back door.
Flint finishes off his beer, and then looks between Emma and Kitty for a long moment while he goes to throw the bottle in the recycling. Flint does seem to ease a little as Moros leaves, scowling at the door the Fury left through, then returns to linger near the Godi. "Shall we?" he asks, quietly.
Kitty lifts her hand to wave to Flint, and inclines her head towards the others. Not quite sure enough of herself to give Emma a hug. Grouchy-full-moon types and all. "I'd best grab a shower, before I head back into lupus." she smiles. "So if you'll all excuse me?" She heads towards the stairs, planning on heading up.
"Sure." Norman aims his now-empty bottle in a throw that lands it neatly in the trash, gives a nod of farewell to Emma and the cub, and makes for the front door. "Gaia watch."
Emma watches the kitchen empty like an inflatable kiddie pool sat on by a large dog. She nods to the departing, then turns to Kitty. "Sure thing Kit. See ya Norman, Flint."
Flint waves to Kitty and Emma, and then turns to follow Norman out, sweatshirt dropped atop an out of the way chair in the living room on the way out.