Flint Madden (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flint_garou) wrote2012-12-18 11:17 am
flint_garou) wrote2012-12-18 11:17 am
Re-meeting Moxie.
Names. Some of them stick.
18 December, 2012
The moon is in the waxing Crescent (Theurge) Moon phase (34% full).
Cloudy and cold outside, but Flint's set up inside the garage at one of the punching bags, and is having at it, one headphone in and into the rhythm of the punches. Odds are he's been at it since he poked at Alexandra over their packlink and asked her to come over. Burning off excess energy and calming down.
It takes Alexandra a while to get there, though less time than usual—she was already on her way from the cave when Flint contacted her, since she tends to spend a lot more time in the city visiting her family on the thin moons. After parking her mountain bike, she makes her way to the garage, pulling off her gloves and putting them into her jacket pockets as she comes inside, and following them shortly thereafter with her knit cap.
Flint stills the punching bag and grabs a nearby towel, offering Alexandra a wave and a grin. "Hey." And then Flint finds somewhere to sit, leans forward and pushes his hands against his forehead, hair that's long enough that he definitely needs a haircut at some point. "I was talking with. With Sewall—the new Silver Fang in town—and Charlene-rhya, and Mr. Dalton. About the rats in the sewers." Flint doesn't waste time in getting to the point, and glances up at Alexandra. "Sewall thought of something we didn't even… remember how, the map got, basically delivered right to the Vault? By a homeless guy, as a messenger?"
Alexandra says, "Yeah. Signed by, what was it, the Queen of the Sewers? I'd have to check, but something like that. We just went with it, because whoever it came from, they weren't wrong about it needing to be taken care of."
Flint nods. "Yeah, we did. And yeah, they were right. 'The Sewer Queen'." Flint pauses, props himself up on his elbows, and takes a moment. "But it means… It. Means the Vault's at least, potentially, been compromised in its status as a safe place. Because something out there that, might… not always been friendly to Garou, that— that we don't even know, what it really is. Knows about it."
Alexandra says, "Yeah, we know. We've been hit by weirdness there a few times. Moving isn't really an option, though. Draco doesn't tend to be around very much, so there's no spiritual defenses that I know of, but Uncle Peter is working on improving the physical security, so we're doing what we can. And we're there a lot less these days—I think Ky is the only one that lives there full time, anymore."
Once again, Flint nods. "Good," he says, pursing his lips. "Just, be sure to be extra careful going anywhere from there, and such. It. And at some point, once we. Once we deal with the rats? We might see about looking into trying to find what the hell, or who the hell, 'The Sewer Queen' is."
Alexandra nods. "We still have the original note, but between it being delivered by proxy and signed with an obvious alias, I'm not sure how much that's going to help in tracking. Most of the tracking gifts or rites need more than that."
The Glass Walker shrugs his shoulders. "May see about talking to people who know the street better—Salem-rhya, some of the Gnawers—see if they. See if they've ever heard thereof," Flint says. "And look into it, that way. The guy who delivered it was, too drunk to, really. To really know anything or what. But still."
Alexandra says, "My bet is that it was a one-time alias, personally. None of the people who dealt with the sewers before ever mentioned a sewer queen, anyway. But never hurts to ask around."
"Yep. I'll… see about that, anyway," Flint says, offering his pack alpha a grin, and then quiets, a long moment. The silence continues for a minute or two, and he asks, more quietly. "Oh, hey, Lex… when you get a chance… can I have my gun and my knife, back?"
Alexandra looks a little surprised, presumably having forgotten about those. "Yeah, no problem. I'll pick them up when I'm in the city later today. If you'll still be around here, I can bring them back with me, otherwise I'll drop them off at the Tenement.
Flint takes a deep breath, and nods. "I'll be here," he says. "Staying out here for a few days, trading rites with Charlene-rhya and still looking to find I think… Dagny? And learn. Learn the Mindspeak gift."
Alexandra says, "That'll definitely come in handy. Might not be something we need inside the pack, but could be invaluable when we're working with someone outside it. I need to get off my butt and learn a new rite or two. Talisman Dedication, Wounding… not too many that I really need, but there are a few that would be nice. But then, also figuring I'm going to challenge for Fostern pretty soon, so may hold off until after that's resolved. Will just have to see."
Another nod, and he glances at Alexandra. "Yeah." He purses his lips and thinks for a long moment. "Did anyone ever find out why, what's her name, the kin of yours? Was hunting leeches?"
Alexandra is standing fairly near Flint, who was working out on one of the punching bags until her arrival. She shakes her head in answer to his question. "Not that I've heard. I don't see Alice much, though. Tribal gatherings, mostly."
Flint grimaces and gets up, moving back to the punching bag to kick it once and then let it swing, in frustration, before he looks at Alexandra. "Then that's…" Flint pauses, glaring at nothing in particular for a moment, then calms, and speaks as quietly as ever. "Lex, you need to, or we need to, or someone needs to. Kin shouldn't, be doing that. When they are, it… can be bad. Okay?"
Heavy feet pound across the yard outside, two sets, accompanied by a muffled, regular thumping. The sounds close, slow, and stop momentarily as hands outside wirk the door-latch and allow admittance to two figures: Norman and Moxie, each wearing a well-worn backpack. Neither pack seems to be bulging, yet both look to be dragging heavily on their wearer's shoulders. Both Garou are hot and sweaty, though only one of them is out of breath— Norman seems to be barely breathing any harder than usual.
Moxie on the other hand is gasping for air, sweating a veritable river, and glaring at Norman with all the sullen hatred of a teen being forced to do something she doesn't want to do. She is clearly just about out of juice, staggering in and finding a wall to lean on, her greyish sweater marked with dark circles under armpits and down her back.
Alexandra's reply is cut off by the arrival of the two Get. Norman, she recognizes, of course, while Moxie she has yet to meet. "You have a canteen with you, or do you need some water?" she asks the exhausted girl.
Flint is similarly cut off from the line of thought that he'd been on when others arrive, and nods to Alexandra, before attention goes to Norman. "Hey, Norman-rhya." The greeting's not much different than usual, a half-tick of a smile sneaking into it. "Hi Moxie."
"Water," the parched Moxie beseeches Lex as she offers, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor with a thump, the backpack shed—thrown, though only a foot or so, as far as her exhausted muscles will allow. "Flint," she adds similarly breathlessly, the most greeting she can muster.
Alexandra disappears into the house to return with a large glass of water for the cub. It's only then that she takes the time to ask questions and introduce herself. "Moxie? So that makes you one of the two new cubs that the Get have claimed, then. Alexandra Morgan, Seeks the Raging Water to Silence Her Strike, Cliath Ahroun of the Shadow Lords, and Alpha of Unfettered, under Merlin."
In that brief time, Flint asks something very quietly of Norman, before the Get goes off to do something in a different area of the garage. Whatever it is though, Flint's left nodding and thinking about something, a glance of acknowledgement for his pack's alpha when she returns.
The blonde girlcub nods at Alexandra in response to her note about the tribe, though doesn't speak again until she has gulped down half the contents of the glass, followed by a stifled burp. "Sorry. Um. Yeah, I'm Moxie. Forseti cub, Get of Fenris."
"You guys have freaking long names," Moxie observes, finishing the water in a few thirsty moments and then setting the glass down beside her with a soft, "Thanks," for Lex. "Yeah, halfmoon. Philodock, I think?" Clearly less familiar with the general term than the one her Tribe uses. "Doing? I'm wiped. Norman is a fucking slavedriver." Though her tone is more respectful than derisory, maybe even admiring.
"Careful, or you'll end up with one that's even longer," Alexandra teases. "Long names aren't too uncommon, but we really only use them in formal introductions and the like. For daily use, they're generally kept to something more manageable. Like Flint, who just goes by Requiem most of the time."
Flint nods. "Philodox," comes the slightly absent correction after Alexandra's done, and he glances at Moxie. "Yep," he agrees. "'s good, though. Norman-rhya and I go running, and, stuff, and train, when I can get out here." Clearly Flint's at least somewhat familiar with it, and there's a clear tone that Norman's someone Flint respects a lot. Then Flint silences, and turns to fidgeting with a mood ring, petting it for a moment, and perhaps… talking to it? Stranger things have happened, given how often Flint just talks to himself.
"I don't even have a name right now. Except maybe Can't-Run-For-Shit," Moxie offers, sounding vaguely depressed by one of those two facts.
Alexandra says, "Cub names are usually just based on some aspect of your behavior or personality at first. You'll get plenty of opportunities to earn yourself a deed-name, though, don't worry about that."
Another nod from Flint. "Pretty much," the galliard says, fidgeting with the mood ring a little bit longer. "Plus, we're… Garou are basically, always naming each other, to some degree. It's not always nice, or things you actually use. Don't let… it, it. Worry you, anyway."
"Oh. In that case, I'm totally 'Talks-too-much' or 'Doesn't-know-when-to-shut-up," Moxie prophecies, before looking sidelong to Flint. "So it's like playground name-calling with permanence?"
Alexandra chuckles. "Sort of. When you do significant things—good things or screwups—they tend to be remembered, and become part of your story. One name may hold a little while, until it's replaced by something more significant, or it may last for quite some time."
Flint half-grins, more of a faint hint of an expression than anything else. "Yeah," he agrees with Alexandra. "More like playground name-calling with permanence and sometimes rage. You're not going to like every name you end up with, but that's kinda life. It's. It works out."
The girlcub shakes her head, vaguely annoyed with this. "Oh well." She dismisses it as beyond her control for now, and at length pushes up onto her feet, before raking fingers back through sweaty blonde hair.
Alexandra says, "Think of it as incentive. If you make sure to earn a name with real meaning, and you keep proving yourself afterward, then it's a lot less likely that a less flattering one you might earn later by screwing up is going to really stick."
The Walker glances at his pack alpha. "Unless particularly annoying Ragabash try to. Try to make it stick," Flint says, dryly and perhaps a touch bitter. "But, she's right."
"I don't know enough not to fuck up," Moxie sighs, her frustration evident. Fingers claw at her hair, tugging at it, though not hard enough to pull it out completely. "Augh!"
Alexandra says, "That's one of the reasons why cubs get a lot more leeway. You're not expected to know things, so if you and I were to screw up in the same way, what might earn you a lecture or some physical labor could potentially earn me a punishment rite, because I am expected to know better, and if I didn't, it would be my own fault. If you screw up right now because of something you weren't told, the fault is partially on your teachers."
"Easy," Flint says, to Moxie, then settling to sit cross-legged in the middle of the floor. He doesn't say anything else, though.
"Easy?" Moxie challenges the Galliard, though offers a half-shrug Lex's way. "Don't mean I don't feel shitty about it anyway," she admits to the Slord.
Alexandra says, "So long as you make sure that drives you to learn what you're taught, and to help Reed do the same, then I'd say that's a good thing."
Flint glances at Moxie. "Take it easy," Flint clarifies. "You feel shitty about fucking up, no matter what. 'Cause, trust me, I've. I've fucked up, enough. I…" the Walker takes a breath, then shakes his head, deciding not to talk about whatever it is.
Lex earns herself another half-shrug from the girlcub, frustration melting into despondency quite quickly, Moxie becoming almost the polar opposite of her name. "It's just so… big." That seems to be for both Cliath equally.
Alexandra doesn't argue the point. Quite the opposite. "Yeah, it is. But that's why we don't face it alone. We have our pack, our tribe, our sept. You've proved that already—you had Reed. There's millions of humans for every one of us… what do you think the odds are of you meeting up with someone that just happened to also be Garou, if all that was involved was chance?"
The Walker just nods, scooting where he sits to be not too far from where Lex is. This time, he doesn't add anything, content to let his pack alpha do the talking.
"He's the only one who din't treat me like a freakin' axe murderer," Moxie allows, still quite morose. "And he is my pack. Unofficially maybe. But that's how it is."
"Not all packs are bound together by totem spirits," Alexandra agrees. "I expect the two of you will face your Rite of Passage together. And you'll find other people that you trust enough to have your back when you're fighting for your life, too."
"Lots of packs start off, unofficially," Flint adds. "Lex was my pack, 'fore either of us faced our rite."
"People keep mentioning the rite. Nobody really says what you -do-," Moxie voices then, distracted from her melancholy by yet another question. She is more questionful than a no-moon, it seems at times.
Alexandra says, "In part, that's because every rite of passage is different. The only real unifying factor is that it's going to test you, and that the totem spirit of your tribe is going to be judging you, and it will decide whether or not to accept you. It can be a test of wits, of strength, of will, or a combination of any of them. As a Get… you can probably expect it'll involve fighting an enemy, but that doesn't mean that's all it will be."
Flint pulls his knees to his chest. "It's all different," Flint agrees with Alexandra.
The girlcub nods after a moment, gathering her arms around her in a self-hug, eyes on the floor in front of her feet. "Gotta pass, so I can kick Sam's ass."
Alexandra says, "Always good to have motivation. From what I hear, that'll be a pretty good motivation for Reed, too."
"Yeah." Moxie nods a little bit, then pushes up to her feet, away from the wall. "I need t'run some more," she decides on that note, lifting a hand to finger-wiggle-wave at the two cliath, before heading for the exit.
Flint waves to Moxie. "Seeya," he offers her, and glances at Lex, before pushing to his feet. "Speaking of, I… think I'm going to go back to hitting this thing." There's a grin, though, enough reassurance that he's hitting it out of burning off energy, rather than anything being too wrong.
Alexandra claps Flint on the shoulder. "And I've got a ride coming. Heading into town for the rest of the day. Take care!"
"Gaia watch," Flint offers to Alexandra, before turning back to the punching bag.
18 December, 2012
The moon is in the waxing Crescent (Theurge) Moon phase (34% full).
Cloudy and cold outside, but Flint's set up inside the garage at one of the punching bags, and is having at it, one headphone in and into the rhythm of the punches. Odds are he's been at it since he poked at Alexandra over their packlink and asked her to come over. Burning off excess energy and calming down.
It takes Alexandra a while to get there, though less time than usual—she was already on her way from the cave when Flint contacted her, since she tends to spend a lot more time in the city visiting her family on the thin moons. After parking her mountain bike, she makes her way to the garage, pulling off her gloves and putting them into her jacket pockets as she comes inside, and following them shortly thereafter with her knit cap.
Flint stills the punching bag and grabs a nearby towel, offering Alexandra a wave and a grin. "Hey." And then Flint finds somewhere to sit, leans forward and pushes his hands against his forehead, hair that's long enough that he definitely needs a haircut at some point. "I was talking with. With Sewall—the new Silver Fang in town—and Charlene-rhya, and Mr. Dalton. About the rats in the sewers." Flint doesn't waste time in getting to the point, and glances up at Alexandra. "Sewall thought of something we didn't even… remember how, the map got, basically delivered right to the Vault? By a homeless guy, as a messenger?"
Alexandra says, "Yeah. Signed by, what was it, the Queen of the Sewers? I'd have to check, but something like that. We just went with it, because whoever it came from, they weren't wrong about it needing to be taken care of."
Flint nods. "Yeah, we did. And yeah, they were right. 'The Sewer Queen'." Flint pauses, props himself up on his elbows, and takes a moment. "But it means… It. Means the Vault's at least, potentially, been compromised in its status as a safe place. Because something out there that, might… not always been friendly to Garou, that— that we don't even know, what it really is. Knows about it."
Alexandra says, "Yeah, we know. We've been hit by weirdness there a few times. Moving isn't really an option, though. Draco doesn't tend to be around very much, so there's no spiritual defenses that I know of, but Uncle Peter is working on improving the physical security, so we're doing what we can. And we're there a lot less these days—I think Ky is the only one that lives there full time, anymore."
Once again, Flint nods. "Good," he says, pursing his lips. "Just, be sure to be extra careful going anywhere from there, and such. It. And at some point, once we. Once we deal with the rats? We might see about looking into trying to find what the hell, or who the hell, 'The Sewer Queen' is."
Alexandra nods. "We still have the original note, but between it being delivered by proxy and signed with an obvious alias, I'm not sure how much that's going to help in tracking. Most of the tracking gifts or rites need more than that."
The Glass Walker shrugs his shoulders. "May see about talking to people who know the street better—Salem-rhya, some of the Gnawers—see if they. See if they've ever heard thereof," Flint says. "And look into it, that way. The guy who delivered it was, too drunk to, really. To really know anything or what. But still."
Alexandra says, "My bet is that it was a one-time alias, personally. None of the people who dealt with the sewers before ever mentioned a sewer queen, anyway. But never hurts to ask around."
"Yep. I'll… see about that, anyway," Flint says, offering his pack alpha a grin, and then quiets, a long moment. The silence continues for a minute or two, and he asks, more quietly. "Oh, hey, Lex… when you get a chance… can I have my gun and my knife, back?"
Alexandra looks a little surprised, presumably having forgotten about those. "Yeah, no problem. I'll pick them up when I'm in the city later today. If you'll still be around here, I can bring them back with me, otherwise I'll drop them off at the Tenement.
Flint takes a deep breath, and nods. "I'll be here," he says. "Staying out here for a few days, trading rites with Charlene-rhya and still looking to find I think… Dagny? And learn. Learn the Mindspeak gift."
Alexandra says, "That'll definitely come in handy. Might not be something we need inside the pack, but could be invaluable when we're working with someone outside it. I need to get off my butt and learn a new rite or two. Talisman Dedication, Wounding… not too many that I really need, but there are a few that would be nice. But then, also figuring I'm going to challenge for Fostern pretty soon, so may hold off until after that's resolved. Will just have to see."
Another nod, and he glances at Alexandra. "Yeah." He purses his lips and thinks for a long moment. "Did anyone ever find out why, what's her name, the kin of yours? Was hunting leeches?"
Alexandra is standing fairly near Flint, who was working out on one of the punching bags until her arrival. She shakes her head in answer to his question. "Not that I've heard. I don't see Alice much, though. Tribal gatherings, mostly."
Flint grimaces and gets up, moving back to the punching bag to kick it once and then let it swing, in frustration, before he looks at Alexandra. "Then that's…" Flint pauses, glaring at nothing in particular for a moment, then calms, and speaks as quietly as ever. "Lex, you need to, or we need to, or someone needs to. Kin shouldn't, be doing that. When they are, it… can be bad. Okay?"
Heavy feet pound across the yard outside, two sets, accompanied by a muffled, regular thumping. The sounds close, slow, and stop momentarily as hands outside wirk the door-latch and allow admittance to two figures: Norman and Moxie, each wearing a well-worn backpack. Neither pack seems to be bulging, yet both look to be dragging heavily on their wearer's shoulders. Both Garou are hot and sweaty, though only one of them is out of breath— Norman seems to be barely breathing any harder than usual.
Moxie on the other hand is gasping for air, sweating a veritable river, and glaring at Norman with all the sullen hatred of a teen being forced to do something she doesn't want to do. She is clearly just about out of juice, staggering in and finding a wall to lean on, her greyish sweater marked with dark circles under armpits and down her back.
Alexandra's reply is cut off by the arrival of the two Get. Norman, she recognizes, of course, while Moxie she has yet to meet. "You have a canteen with you, or do you need some water?" she asks the exhausted girl.
Flint is similarly cut off from the line of thought that he'd been on when others arrive, and nods to Alexandra, before attention goes to Norman. "Hey, Norman-rhya." The greeting's not much different than usual, a half-tick of a smile sneaking into it. "Hi Moxie."
"Water," the parched Moxie beseeches Lex as she offers, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor with a thump, the backpack shed—thrown, though only a foot or so, as far as her exhausted muscles will allow. "Flint," she adds similarly breathlessly, the most greeting she can muster.
Alexandra disappears into the house to return with a large glass of water for the cub. It's only then that she takes the time to ask questions and introduce herself. "Moxie? So that makes you one of the two new cubs that the Get have claimed, then. Alexandra Morgan, Seeks the Raging Water to Silence Her Strike, Cliath Ahroun of the Shadow Lords, and Alpha of Unfettered, under Merlin."
In that brief time, Flint asks something very quietly of Norman, before the Get goes off to do something in a different area of the garage. Whatever it is though, Flint's left nodding and thinking about something, a glance of acknowledgement for his pack's alpha when she returns.
The blonde girlcub nods at Alexandra in response to her note about the tribe, though doesn't speak again until she has gulped down half the contents of the glass, followed by a stifled burp. "Sorry. Um. Yeah, I'm Moxie. Forseti cub, Get of Fenris."
"You guys have freaking long names," Moxie observes, finishing the water in a few thirsty moments and then setting the glass down beside her with a soft, "Thanks," for Lex. "Yeah, halfmoon. Philodock, I think?" Clearly less familiar with the general term than the one her Tribe uses. "Doing? I'm wiped. Norman is a fucking slavedriver." Though her tone is more respectful than derisory, maybe even admiring.
"Careful, or you'll end up with one that's even longer," Alexandra teases. "Long names aren't too uncommon, but we really only use them in formal introductions and the like. For daily use, they're generally kept to something more manageable. Like Flint, who just goes by Requiem most of the time."
Flint nods. "Philodox," comes the slightly absent correction after Alexandra's done, and he glances at Moxie. "Yep," he agrees. "'s good, though. Norman-rhya and I go running, and, stuff, and train, when I can get out here." Clearly Flint's at least somewhat familiar with it, and there's a clear tone that Norman's someone Flint respects a lot. Then Flint silences, and turns to fidgeting with a mood ring, petting it for a moment, and perhaps… talking to it? Stranger things have happened, given how often Flint just talks to himself.
"I don't even have a name right now. Except maybe Can't-Run-For-Shit," Moxie offers, sounding vaguely depressed by one of those two facts.
Alexandra says, "Cub names are usually just based on some aspect of your behavior or personality at first. You'll get plenty of opportunities to earn yourself a deed-name, though, don't worry about that."
Another nod from Flint. "Pretty much," the galliard says, fidgeting with the mood ring a little bit longer. "Plus, we're… Garou are basically, always naming each other, to some degree. It's not always nice, or things you actually use. Don't let… it, it. Worry you, anyway."
"Oh. In that case, I'm totally 'Talks-too-much' or 'Doesn't-know-when-to-shut-up," Moxie prophecies, before looking sidelong to Flint. "So it's like playground name-calling with permanence?"
Alexandra chuckles. "Sort of. When you do significant things—good things or screwups—they tend to be remembered, and become part of your story. One name may hold a little while, until it's replaced by something more significant, or it may last for quite some time."
Flint half-grins, more of a faint hint of an expression than anything else. "Yeah," he agrees with Alexandra. "More like playground name-calling with permanence and sometimes rage. You're not going to like every name you end up with, but that's kinda life. It's. It works out."
The girlcub shakes her head, vaguely annoyed with this. "Oh well." She dismisses it as beyond her control for now, and at length pushes up onto her feet, before raking fingers back through sweaty blonde hair.
Alexandra says, "Think of it as incentive. If you make sure to earn a name with real meaning, and you keep proving yourself afterward, then it's a lot less likely that a less flattering one you might earn later by screwing up is going to really stick."
The Walker glances at his pack alpha. "Unless particularly annoying Ragabash try to. Try to make it stick," Flint says, dryly and perhaps a touch bitter. "But, she's right."
"I don't know enough not to fuck up," Moxie sighs, her frustration evident. Fingers claw at her hair, tugging at it, though not hard enough to pull it out completely. "Augh!"
Alexandra says, "That's one of the reasons why cubs get a lot more leeway. You're not expected to know things, so if you and I were to screw up in the same way, what might earn you a lecture or some physical labor could potentially earn me a punishment rite, because I am expected to know better, and if I didn't, it would be my own fault. If you screw up right now because of something you weren't told, the fault is partially on your teachers."
"Easy," Flint says, to Moxie, then settling to sit cross-legged in the middle of the floor. He doesn't say anything else, though.
"Easy?" Moxie challenges the Galliard, though offers a half-shrug Lex's way. "Don't mean I don't feel shitty about it anyway," she admits to the Slord.
Alexandra says, "So long as you make sure that drives you to learn what you're taught, and to help Reed do the same, then I'd say that's a good thing."
Flint glances at Moxie. "Take it easy," Flint clarifies. "You feel shitty about fucking up, no matter what. 'Cause, trust me, I've. I've fucked up, enough. I…" the Walker takes a breath, then shakes his head, deciding not to talk about whatever it is.
Lex earns herself another half-shrug from the girlcub, frustration melting into despondency quite quickly, Moxie becoming almost the polar opposite of her name. "It's just so… big." That seems to be for both Cliath equally.
Alexandra doesn't argue the point. Quite the opposite. "Yeah, it is. But that's why we don't face it alone. We have our pack, our tribe, our sept. You've proved that already—you had Reed. There's millions of humans for every one of us… what do you think the odds are of you meeting up with someone that just happened to also be Garou, if all that was involved was chance?"
The Walker just nods, scooting where he sits to be not too far from where Lex is. This time, he doesn't add anything, content to let his pack alpha do the talking.
"He's the only one who din't treat me like a freakin' axe murderer," Moxie allows, still quite morose. "And he is my pack. Unofficially maybe. But that's how it is."
"Not all packs are bound together by totem spirits," Alexandra agrees. "I expect the two of you will face your Rite of Passage together. And you'll find other people that you trust enough to have your back when you're fighting for your life, too."
"Lots of packs start off, unofficially," Flint adds. "Lex was my pack, 'fore either of us faced our rite."
"People keep mentioning the rite. Nobody really says what you -do-," Moxie voices then, distracted from her melancholy by yet another question. She is more questionful than a no-moon, it seems at times.
Alexandra says, "In part, that's because every rite of passage is different. The only real unifying factor is that it's going to test you, and that the totem spirit of your tribe is going to be judging you, and it will decide whether or not to accept you. It can be a test of wits, of strength, of will, or a combination of any of them. As a Get… you can probably expect it'll involve fighting an enemy, but that doesn't mean that's all it will be."
Flint pulls his knees to his chest. "It's all different," Flint agrees with Alexandra.
The girlcub nods after a moment, gathering her arms around her in a self-hug, eyes on the floor in front of her feet. "Gotta pass, so I can kick Sam's ass."
Alexandra says, "Always good to have motivation. From what I hear, that'll be a pretty good motivation for Reed, too."
"Yeah." Moxie nods a little bit, then pushes up to her feet, away from the wall. "I need t'run some more," she decides on that note, lifting a hand to finger-wiggle-wave at the two cliath, before heading for the exit.
Flint waves to Moxie. "Seeya," he offers her, and glances at Lex, before pushing to his feet. "Speaking of, I… think I'm going to go back to hitting this thing." There's a grin, though, enough reassurance that he's hitting it out of burning off energy, rather than anything being too wrong.
Alexandra claps Flint on the shoulder. "And I've got a ride coming. Heading into town for the rest of the day. Take care!"
"Gaia watch," Flint offers to Alexandra, before turning back to the punching bag.