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flint_garouNot what you really expect to happen on your first day.
30 December, 2011
The moon is in the waxing Crescent (Theurge) Moon phase (37% full).
The evening was uneventful, after the trip upstairs. There was a lot of good food, including an amazing ziti with rich meat sauce, and the very briefest of explanations of what happened. The group went over simple vocabulary - cub vs adult, but not much detail beyond that, and the very important word, Werewolf. Exhaustion hit, not long after the food, and the cub was given his new bunk, towels, and directions to remain either in his room or the break room. And then, he was left alone, with Devon already asleep.
The next morning, with Devon already gone, the door opens to let in the light from the hall, and Kavi's shadow falls across the floor. "Hey," he calls. "Are you hungry? Rina made eggs, and. It would be sad if they got cold."
The mention of food is enough to wake Flint all the way, though he'd slept through the rest of the noises of the morning well enough. "Food?" There's a glance at his surroundings, and then over to Kavi. "So it wasn't a dream, or anything?" It doesn't take very long for the boy to emerge into the hallway. "It really wasn't a dream."
Kavi leads the boy to the break room, where a plate of eggs, scrambled with sausage and cheese, and some pan fried potatoes and onions awaits. "It wasn't a dream," he says, gesturing to the table as he heads into the kitchen area to pour juice for them both. "Are you feeling okay?"
There's a shrug for an answer, as the boy makes his way to the table. "Dunno," he comes up with, speaking in between a mouthful of food. "I guess so." However, it's an honest answer rather than evasion, for the most part. The sleeves of Flint's jacket are shoved up to make eating easier, and he looks up from his plate every so often to watch Kavi.
Kavi brings the glasses of juice to the table and places one before Flint. The other he keeps for himself as he sits. "We have a lot to talk about. Do you think you're ready?"
The question is considered more carefully, with even the foot ignored for a moment as Flint thinks about it. "I think so." There's a tone of uncertainty, but it vanishes halfway through. "Yeah." One hand wraps around the juice as he takes another few bites, as if making sure neither is just going to disappear.
"Good," Kavi says gently, and punctuates it with a soft nod. "You already know my name. Kavi. But I have another, as well. And even more to my title than just that. When I introduce myself to other garou — other people like us, other werewolves, I say, I'm Kavi Bhaskar, He Builds the Most Important Bridges, Adren galliard of the Glass Walkers. It's long, and. We'll take it slowly, and I'll explain what it means?"
The boy lets go of the glass of juice entirely, and silently mouths a repetition of what has just been told to him. All things aside, he's paying attention, and there's a tilt to his head that's obviously interested. "Okay then," Flint says, before silently repeating it once more.
"Okay," Kavi agrees. "The first part, Kavi Bhaskar, is easy. That's the name my… my father gave me. You're Flint Madden. The next part is a little longer. It's my deed name. The name that was given to me when I passed my fostern challenge. A test. It's a name based on what I did. He Builds the Most Important Bridges. Sometimes it gets shortened to Bridge Builder, or Builds Bridges. The test that was given to me was… to find something that was needed, and make it happen. And, for me? What I saw? Was communication. So I worked hard to get people to be able to talk to each other. I built a secure phone network, so that we can talk without worrying about people spying on us, or tracing our calls. That's how I got my name. Your deed name — the name Mouse gave you, last night, based on what you've done, is Takes-it-All-in-Stride. Some people might shorten it to All-in-Stride, or Takes-it-in-Stride. But your name is Takes-it-All-in-Stride."
Another nod follows from Flint, along with the periodic silent repetition and memorisation. "Right," he says, eyebrows furrowing as the new information gets sorted. "That makes sense." The words are tentative, but there's a small glimmer of understanding hidden behind them.
Kavi watches the cub closely, but as he seems to understand, the galliard goes on. "The next part, adren, is my rank. Last night, we explained that you're a cub. A young garou, still learning. When you pass your test - your rite of passage, you'll be cliath. First rank. As you learn, and grow, and show that you can do things, you'll gain respect and renown among the garou, and eventually you'll feel like you should be looked at as a real adult. Then you'll challenge for fostern. You'll find someone of that rank, someone you respect, and they'll give you a test. If you pass it, you'll be fostern, too. If you don't, you'll wait, and learn some more, and try again."
More nodding signifies that even though Flint's gone back to finishing all of the food that was put on the plate, he is still paying attention to what Kavi is saying. A pause in eating, and the cub ticks off on his fingers, before looking up at Kavi once more. "Right." The assent is still the same, with the same tone of understanding behind it, for all that it's monosyllabic. Probably because there's food.
Kavi pauses to take a sip of his own juice and then looks into the glass as he sets it down. "Galliard is my auspice," he begins again. "The reason Mouse asked for your birthday was so she could find out what the phase of the moon was, when you were born. There are five phases, and each one corresponds to an auspice. What phase of the moon you have determines your role in our world. It's not… It's what you're good at, whether you know it, already, or not. The moon guides us. A lot. And this is one of those ways."
He takes another sip from his glass, watching the cub over the rim, and then continues. "The new moon, when you almost can't even tell she's there? That's Ragabash. They're the scouts and the fools. They remind us who we are, by making us question ourselves. The crescent moon are the Theurges. They're… Mouse is a Theurge. She's really smart. They're the… the shaman? They understand the spirits and things like that. The half moon are the Philodox. They're the ones in the middle, who can feel the balance. They're the mediators, and the judges. And the full moon are the Ahroun. We're all warriors? As garou? But they're the … the leaders. They're the ones who are drawn to it… more than the rest of us. Devon is an Ahroun."
As opposed to the earlier silent repetitions, the names of the auspices get repeated aloud, although quietly. "She said I was a Galliard," and the word is still slow and halting for Flint, "too, right." The comment is offered, not quite a question, and Flint looks up, away from the now empty plate, to watch Kavi. One hand goes up to rub at the back of his neck with a slight residual wince, after he's spoken.
"Yes," Kavi answers with another nod. "That's why… That's part of why she asked me to be your primary teacher. But not the only reason. That's one of our jobs. We were born under the gibbous moon, and we're the teachers, the storytellers, and the singers. We keep the history, and keep it alive for everyone else. We all have different ways of expressing ourselves, but that is what we do. I sing. I write songs and sing them. I know some galliards who dance, and some who draw. Some tell stories without music. For me… the music is important."
Once more, the cub nods assent, the empty juice glass turned around under one hand as Flint considers. For a moment, some internal conflict shows on the boy's face, a raising of eyebrows and quirk of the mouth as he thinks about it further, but it's pushed aside, the phrases 'suspension of disbelief' along with 'not a dream' are both audible, although whispered. "Right."
Kavi rises, taking the cub's plate and both of their glasses. "Do you want more juice?" he asks as he heads into the kitchen.
"Can I?" A nod follows the question, and then Flint ducks his head. "Sorry. Not used to there being seconds," he says quietly, apology.
"Of course," Kavi says from the kitchen. He leaves the plate in the sink, but fills both glasses with juice again. As he puts the pitcher back in the fridge, he holds the door open and gestures toward it. "There's also a lot more food. If you're hungry, you can eat anything here." He lets the fridge close, and opens the freezer to point out the dozens of single-serving plastic containers. "Rina always keeps it full. She says three minutes on high and then let it sit." Letting the freezer close, too, he picks up the glasses and returns to the table. "The last part of my name? My introduction? Is Glass Walker. That's my tribe. Yours, too. And Devon's, and Mouse's, and Rina's. There are thirteen that you should know about, right now, but you'll probably only meet eleven. Maybe twelve. I've only ever met one Stargazer, and that was back in India."
The refilled glass of juice is picked up, but Flint just holds it, instead mouthing the word 'tribe' several times over, before there's a hard swallow, and he looks down at the table as he finishes thinking about it. When he looks up again, though, there's a faint smile on his face. "Right."
From the hallway there's movement. The sound of one set of shoes scuffing against flooring and a single shadow drifting past the door to the break room.
Kavi nods and settles back into his seat across from the cub. "We'll talk more about the other tribes, later. But for now, I just want you to have heard their names. And we can talk about what it means to be a Glass Walker." He glances toward the sounds from the hall, and then returns his focus to the boy. "There are two tribes the others call Urrah, or city dwellers. That's us and the Bone Gnawers. In the woods, there are a few tribes who almost never come to the city. The Wendigo and Uktena, who are all Native American, and the Red Talons, who are all lupus—"
Here he breaks off with a frown and bites at the corner of his lip. "I'll talk about that more, later. But. Your parents were human. And mine were. Or, at least, one was human, and one was garou, usually. But some garou are born from wolf parents, and they're born as wolves and raised as wolves, until their first change. And some. Like Mouse? Are born from two garou parents. I. We need to talk more about that, but. But later. Just. Remember this: The first law of our people is garou shall not mate with garou, and. It's important."
"Garou shall not mate with garou," Flint says, the tone of puzzlement not entirely kept from his voice, and complete with the attitude of a teenager who hasn't noticed that the option of mating, in any form, exists. "Right." There's a moment of vacant expression, before he looks up at Kavi again. "You were saying, though?" The words are nearly an apology for talking to himself.
The lanky form of the Ahroun cub soon follows the drifting shadow, filling the doorway, and likewise the footsteps cease. An apologetic look flits across his expression, eyes going from Flint to Kavi. "…'m I interrupting?"
The younger teen's face furrows in concentration for a moment, before he looks back up and nods, and then a nod of greeting given to Devon as well. "Hi," he says, after watching Devon for a bit. A moment later, and the boy silently mouths through the information once more, counting off on the fingers of one hand.
Devon nods once, moving from the doorway and into the break room. He gives Flint a sort of salute, two fingers touching the side of his head then pointing in the younger cub's direction. "There's also the fallen tribe," he offers, feet taking him into the kitchen. "The White Howlers. They… Were Gaian?" He glances over his shoulder toward the elder Galliard for confirmation, while pouring himself a glass of juice.
Kavi looks over at Devon and nods, but slowly, and his gaze darts to Flint and then back again. "Right now. We were just talking about the ones he might meet. I. I want to save the history, for a little later." He pushes up from his seat, leaving his glass where it is. "I'm going to go get my guitar, so I can teach some of those stories. But. You could teach him the litany, and tell him about our tribe, while I'm gone. It'll take me a little. I left it at home. And when I get back," he says, turning to the newer cub. "You can tell me what you learned. Okay?"
"Right," Flint agrees, before glancing at the ceiling, staring off for a moment. Both hands wrap around the glass of juice as the younger cub sits there. "'Course."
"Sorry… Kavi-rhya." Devon looks down at his glass as his fingers wrap around it. He nods before turning back, moving from kitchen to lounging area. "Yeah, sure. Litany and our tribe."
Kavi looks from one to the other again, and for a second, he draws his lower lip between his teeth. "Stay safe," he says, and turns, slipping out into the hall, and then down the stairs.
Flint's gaze watches Devon after Kavi has left, and then he looks over at the older cub, turning the chair he's in to face. "So um." The younger teen falls quiet, sipping from the juice absently.
Devon's gaze follows Kavi out the door, then turns back to Flint. "Yeah," he agrees, lifting his free hand up to drag fingers through his hair. "So… You doing alright after last night? Kind've a rush. Or something."
"Mostly," Flint says, with a small smile. "It obviously wasn't a dream, and it's still better than…" the words cut off, uncertain, and Flint looks away for a moment, silently struggling to retain composure, and then the boy just abruptly moves on, abandoning the prior train of thought as something to deal with later. "Plus, breakfast was good, so."
"No, wasn't a dream," Devon agrees, half grinning. "Better off that I was after my first night." If there's any thought or question to Flint's change of demeanor or expression, the Ahroun doesn't show it. "Well, anyway. Not sure what to tell you about us. We're one of the two city tribes. We're kind of like that front line troops, protecting the city and humans from the Wyrm."
Flint grins back, starting to be a little bit more at ease. "Felt like a dream a bit. Not so much the …" he shrugs, eyebrows wrinkling in thought as he searches for the word, "change, as everything else." His head jerks towards the empty plate that he has left from breakfast. "I'm just not used to being around people who actually talk to me."
Devon settles himself on the floor, his back resting against the front of a chair. "People here'll talk to you. Kavi'll sing. And Rina's real good about talking and listening. She's also a great cook." His juice glass is set beside his hip, then arms are draped over his knees.
Flint nods agreement to the statement. "Yeah, she is." Then he falls silent again, watching Devon. "So, um." A shrug is offered, and the younger cub waits for the older to speak.
"So." Devon frowns slightly, looking at his hands. His brow creases again, fingers of one hand tracing over the scars on the other. "Yeah, we're pretty much protectors of humanity. Pretty much all the other tribes work to keep the forests and traditional nature-y things safe. But us, and usually the Bone Gnawers, keep the city and the humans in it safe."
The boy listens intently, a tilt of his head betraying the curiosity that's otherwise kept well in check. "Right." The ticking off of information on fingers happens again, before Flint looks back at Devon once more.
"Of all the tribes," Devon goes on, glancing up at the other boy, "we're pretty much the only ones to embrace technology. We use it in our efforts to protect humanity. Most of the others …don't exactly shun technology, but they prefer simple things. They don't rely as much on finding answers through the Internet or science or anything." He pauses, a faint grin coming to his features. "But they come to us to get those answers."
Another nod from Flint follows the older boy's speaking, before he grins. "That's good. I like technology, 'd hate to go without it really." He pauses, getting up to deal with his empty glass before then sitting down on the floor across from Devon. "So." Another grin follows.
Devon's head lifts when Flint sits in front of him, brows arching in silent askance. The silence stretches for a moment longer before he hedges to echo, "So… You got questions or… something?"
"Not that I can put together straight yet," Flint admits. "I mean, they're there, but not quite." He pauses, waiting a moment, fingers drumming on one knee. The jacket is pulled around him again, which makes him seem smaller than he is. "It's interesting, though. And I learn quick. At least, school always said I did." He grins. "And I like reading, and such, and learning, in general." A shrug is offered, then.
"Yeah," Devon's tone inflects the response with a question. He pushes one leg out from himself, the other remaining drawn inward, knee near his chest. "So'd they tell you what you are yet? Besides a werewolf and part of the Glass Walker tribe, I mean."
Flint nods. "Galliard," Flint responds, the word still uncertain and carefully pronounced. "Yeah. Books made better company than people used to," he adds. The hurt is pushed out of his voice, pushed away, and there's a slight tremble in his hands again, but it stills. "So I read a lot, whenever I could."
There's a bit of a pause, Devon's gaze carefully resting on his hands though he hasn't missed Flint's words. "Yeah, books make good company. Lot of times, when I was in elementary or middle school, books were better friends than the kids in my classes." Fingers entwine together as he looks up at the other cub. "Your quick learning'll help out with being a Galliard, though. You'll have to know histories and traditions and whatever else."
"We…" Flint pauses, and then continues, "we never stayed in one place long enough for friends in my classes to even be an option. Moved a lot. I lost count." There's a shrug. "So."
"That sucks." Devon drops one hand, picking up his glass and taking a long drink from it. "I was usually two years younger than those in my classes," he says, lowering his glass. "It's not even close to the same as moving around, but it didn't do well for making friends much, either. And that's even before the whole turning into a werewolf thing found me. But it's pretty good here. Mouse is nice, Kavi and Rina'll watch out for you. Kevin, too. There's others, but they're usually busy. Like Scar, I've only met him once. And Sol'll give you rides to Edgewood when you're okay to go out there."
Kavi returns after not too long, guitar case in hand. While the two cubs clear the table and wash the dishes, he prepares, and by the time they're done, he's settled onto the edge of the armchair, strumming an easy melody. He plays several songs for them, paying close attention to the newest cub as he does. He sings first of the Triat, and the basis of the war, a fugue of sorts, with each of the three taking on its own melody, repeating through the story. The second song is no lighter than the first, though it ends on a more pleasant note, as it tells of the Impergium, and introduces the Glass Walker tribe's role in ending it. And the last is the song of the Hidden Walk, from its beginning as the Wheel, through the revolutions to Wheel Renewed, and finally its current state.
After each, the galliard gives the cubs a chance to question the meanings, and gives detailed explanations, and at the end, when the guitar is safely back in its case once more, he rises. "Do you want to see? We could go there, now. For a little while."
Flint pays apt attention, head tilted to the side in the expression of attention. The boy's a sponge, at times, especially when it comes to new things. "That…" the beginning of the sentence trail off, nearly the opposite of the direct and well thought out questions that the young cub had asked several times, before he just nods in answer to what Kavi asks. "Yes, please."
Devon, having already heard it on several occasions, stays quiet and out of the way during Kavi's playing. He keeps himself busy in a non-distracting way, wiping down counters and refilling coffee or juice as needed. But he's listening as well, occasionally able to be spied pausing in a chore to watch the elder Galliard play. At the question, the Ahroun cub's gaze flicks to Flint, studying him for a long moment, before darting to Kavi when the younger boy answers.
Kavi looks from Flint to Devon, and his gaze remains on the older cub. "I'll borrow Mouse's car."
Flint pushes himself to his feet, his jacket pulled on again from where it had been discarded to the side at some point while Kavi played, subconsciously pulling the shirt he's wearing a little bit straighter.
Devon swipes a hand over the last space of counter, clearing away any remaining or imagined crumbs by brushing them onto the floor. "Bawn's alright," Devon offers to Flint, taking a few steps toward where the younger cub had remained. "Got to watch out for thorns, but you get used to it. Edgewood's nice, too, right there by the bawn. But there's no Internet or television or anything. Lots of books, though."
Kavi nods once and hefts the guitar. To Devon he says, "Grab some spare clothes." And then to both he adds, "I'll meet you downstairs." With that, he starts down the hallway, past the stairwell door, and past the cub's bunk room.
Flint nods, with a bit of a grin, and tucks his hands into his pockets as he makes his way out of the breakroom and then down.
Devon falls in behind Flint, though he detours into the cub's bunk room instead of going straight downstairs. Spare clothes are grabbed and stuffed into a pack, which is pulled over his shoulder as he turns and exits the room a few seconds later. Any confusion or question for the instructions is left behind, hidden away once he's reached the ground floor with the others.
Kavi isn't far behind, and whether the cubs notice the bulk beneath his jacket, he seems not to care, and certainly doesn't mention it himself.
The trip out to Edgewood takes a good forty minutes or more, and the galliard fills the space with quizzing the cubs on the litany and the purpose of their tribe. He even, as promised, explains why Mouse looks different than most of the garou Flint will meet, and what it means to be metis, and as a corollary, why Mouse is worthy of immense respect. It's obvious, in fact, from his tone and the way he speaks of her, that his respect for her is genuine and heartfelt, regardless of her position in garou society.
When they arrive, the galliard takes the cubs into Edgewood, and has each change into some of the older, perhaps more dispensable clothes from the bin upstairs, while he waits in the kitchen.
Flint changes clothes, leaving behind even his jacket. Then returns downstairs, slowly. His hands rest loosely and easily in his pockets, rather than the more frequently balled in fists in his pockets.
Devon likewise changes, a bit more slowly. He takes a moment to stow both sets of his own clothing in the pack he'd brought with, putting the pack away in some out of the way space. Then he wanders downstairs again, raking his fingers through his hair.
In the kitchen, there's water heating on the stove, though Kavi doesn't mention it when the cubs return. His jacket is off, placed carefully on the backs of one of the chairs, and what caused the bulk beneath it is now obvious - the shoulder holster and pistol held within. He looks up as the pair enter, and nods, as if to himself. "We talked about. About how Glass Walkers have to be able to take care of the city. And. We've talked about the veil, and not risking people seeing us."
"Right," the younger cub says, agreeing, and thinking back to the events of the previous night. Then he leans against the back of the other kitchen chairs, quiet.
Devon nods slowly as he leans against the frame to the kitchen doorway. "Yeah. Risks us and most of them can't handle it anyway."
Kavi nods. He checks the gun, briefly, and then starts toward the door. "Come outside."
Flint follows easily, with curiosity still showing plainly through his expression. "Okay." There's a hint of hesitation in the tone, but not much, nor does it translate to his steps.
Devon shrugs to himself, rolling off the doorframe to tag along after Flint and Kavi.
As the door closes behind them, Kavi turns to the cubs. "When you're in the city, you have to be able to fight without… Without betraying what we are. There's a lesson that every Glass Walker cub faces, so that, if it happens in battle, you'll be ready." He takes the gun into his hand, but holds it down at his side, rather than pointing it at either one. "This meadow is… Is the battleground. I'm going to shoot you. Your job is to get to the trees and hide, before you change forms. If you can do that, you pass the lesson." Looking more to Flint he adds, "Don't worry. As soon as you're hidden, you can change, and once you change you'll heal."
Flint nods, his hands still hooked by his thumbs into his pockets. There is some hesitation in his voice again as he voices his assent, but he makes his way out into the meadow a bit, looking around, eyes tracing the path from where he is to the trees.
"Crazy, barbaric practices," Devon breathes as he steps off the porch and starts for the meadow. There's a hint of disbelieving amusement to his tone, as though doubting the Galliard is actually going to shoot anyone.
"Ready," Kavi says, his voice low and even. "Set," he says as he raises the gun. "Go!" The last is given with a sharp bark, and almost as soon as the word is out, he levels the weapon at Devon and fires. A sharp crack splits the air, with almost no time at all between it and the pain that lances through the Ahroun cub's shoulder.
Just before the gun's report breaks the ambient silence of the meadow, Devon turns toward Kavi with a bit of a grin. The look twists into surprise and then pain a split second later when a round from the Galliard's gun bites through his shoulder. He twists with the impact, spinning and dropping to a knee as he lurches in haste for the trees.
The younger cub just watches it happen in silence, though his hands clench tightly. His gaze drifts, between Devon, Kavi, and simply the rest of the meadow.
Kavi's expression is blank, totally focused, totally serious. He turns immediately from Devon to Flint, waiting just a moment before fires again. It's no accident that this shot hits, as well, a through-and-through that just misses the humerus as it passes through the bicep. "Run!" he shouts, and starts running, himself, as if this were a game of tag, and he were 'it'.
Devon pushes off the ground with one hand, getting his feet under him. He claps that same hand to his shoulder, hunching for an instant before Kavi's voice reaches him. He half turns, glancing toward Kavi, feet shuffling into a half stumbled run toward the treeline.
Flint lets out a startled cry, though it wasn't truly unexpected. Still, the pain slows him for a moment, and he stands, shock-still, before beginning to run. Nor does the younger boy even make it to the treeline. The running steps stumble, and before he even falls, he's shifted to crinos, though he pushes himself back up, now onto all fours to continue going for the treeline.
The galliard holsters the weapon, even as he chases the two to the trees. He puts on a burst of speed as Flint changes shape, reaching the shadows just a heartbeat after the boys. "Calm," he says, slowing his own breathing as he slows his steps.
Devon more or less drops himself into the thickness of the undergrowth, less concerned with any brambles and thorns he might encounter than with the pain of the gunshot wound. Fingers tighten on the wound to his shoulder, feet push his form another pace or two deeper into the foliage before he allows himself to shift. He settles, after a second or two, in lupus, and remains sprawled on the ground.
The younger cub stops on the inside of the shadows towards the brush, with a low growl that dissipates as he rests. It's only after he's dropped to the ground and settled a moment that there is a slow approximation of a nod.
Kavi looks to his left to check on Devon, and gives a single nod at what he sees. "You'll be okay," he says as he turns from one to the other, his words intended for them both. His attitude is a little more wary as he looks over the crinos form. "Calm," he says again. "Try to shift down, to go back to your homid form. Human."
One-Foot-Forward's ears slant back when Kavi's attention turns toward him, then left again when the Galliard looks away. He follows the elder Garou's gaze to the new cub, hackles rising as he finds the other in crinos.
All-in-Stride looks up, with another nod, and the concentration makes the young cub go utterly and entirely still for a long moment, before the attempted gesture of a shrug when he fails.
Kavi glances to Devon and gives him a nod, encouragement or approval, or possibly release. He turns back to Takes-it-All-in-Stride and takes a step further, putting him more directly in front of the cub. "Slow," he says. "Slow your breathing. Calm your mind. When you're relaxed, you'll find yourself able to shift. Okay?"
One-Foot-Forward pushes himself upright slowly, still favoring one leg though the wound has already begun to heal. He watches Flint silently, ears ticking back slightly. He makes a small sound, a grunting whuff that sounds to echo Kavi's words.
Another nod, and this time, after a moment, this time it happens, and Flint sits up a bit, pulling to hug his knees tightly to his chest when he's shifted back to homid. "There," he says, almost inaudibly, before falling quiet again.
One-Foot-Forward starts back toward the house, ears laying back once again. His head lowers slightly as he walks, limp eventually fading as the wound completes its healing cycle. He glances back once, to look at Flint and then Kavi, before loping the remaining distance across the meadow and skulking up onto the porch.
After another moment just sitting there, Flint gets to his feet, nodding. "Tea sounds nice," he admits, still very much quieter than what so far seems to be usual for the boy. A grin slips onto his face very briefly, before he starts toward the house again, arms hugged across himself as he does so.
Kavi gives Devon a glance, a wordless reminder, as he opens the door. "You can get dressed as soon as you're inside," he says. "And the tea will be down here, when you're ready."
30 December, 2011
The moon is in the waxing Crescent (Theurge) Moon phase (37% full).
The evening was uneventful, after the trip upstairs. There was a lot of good food, including an amazing ziti with rich meat sauce, and the very briefest of explanations of what happened. The group went over simple vocabulary - cub vs adult, but not much detail beyond that, and the very important word, Werewolf. Exhaustion hit, not long after the food, and the cub was given his new bunk, towels, and directions to remain either in his room or the break room. And then, he was left alone, with Devon already asleep.
The next morning, with Devon already gone, the door opens to let in the light from the hall, and Kavi's shadow falls across the floor. "Hey," he calls. "Are you hungry? Rina made eggs, and. It would be sad if they got cold."
The mention of food is enough to wake Flint all the way, though he'd slept through the rest of the noises of the morning well enough. "Food?" There's a glance at his surroundings, and then over to Kavi. "So it wasn't a dream, or anything?" It doesn't take very long for the boy to emerge into the hallway. "It really wasn't a dream."
Kavi leads the boy to the break room, where a plate of eggs, scrambled with sausage and cheese, and some pan fried potatoes and onions awaits. "It wasn't a dream," he says, gesturing to the table as he heads into the kitchen area to pour juice for them both. "Are you feeling okay?"
There's a shrug for an answer, as the boy makes his way to the table. "Dunno," he comes up with, speaking in between a mouthful of food. "I guess so." However, it's an honest answer rather than evasion, for the most part. The sleeves of Flint's jacket are shoved up to make eating easier, and he looks up from his plate every so often to watch Kavi.
Kavi brings the glasses of juice to the table and places one before Flint. The other he keeps for himself as he sits. "We have a lot to talk about. Do you think you're ready?"
The question is considered more carefully, with even the foot ignored for a moment as Flint thinks about it. "I think so." There's a tone of uncertainty, but it vanishes halfway through. "Yeah." One hand wraps around the juice as he takes another few bites, as if making sure neither is just going to disappear.
"Good," Kavi says gently, and punctuates it with a soft nod. "You already know my name. Kavi. But I have another, as well. And even more to my title than just that. When I introduce myself to other garou — other people like us, other werewolves, I say, I'm Kavi Bhaskar, He Builds the Most Important Bridges, Adren galliard of the Glass Walkers. It's long, and. We'll take it slowly, and I'll explain what it means?"
The boy lets go of the glass of juice entirely, and silently mouths a repetition of what has just been told to him. All things aside, he's paying attention, and there's a tilt to his head that's obviously interested. "Okay then," Flint says, before silently repeating it once more.
"Okay," Kavi agrees. "The first part, Kavi Bhaskar, is easy. That's the name my… my father gave me. You're Flint Madden. The next part is a little longer. It's my deed name. The name that was given to me when I passed my fostern challenge. A test. It's a name based on what I did. He Builds the Most Important Bridges. Sometimes it gets shortened to Bridge Builder, or Builds Bridges. The test that was given to me was… to find something that was needed, and make it happen. And, for me? What I saw? Was communication. So I worked hard to get people to be able to talk to each other. I built a secure phone network, so that we can talk without worrying about people spying on us, or tracing our calls. That's how I got my name. Your deed name — the name Mouse gave you, last night, based on what you've done, is Takes-it-All-in-Stride. Some people might shorten it to All-in-Stride, or Takes-it-in-Stride. But your name is Takes-it-All-in-Stride."
Another nod follows from Flint, along with the periodic silent repetition and memorisation. "Right," he says, eyebrows furrowing as the new information gets sorted. "That makes sense." The words are tentative, but there's a small glimmer of understanding hidden behind them.
Kavi watches the cub closely, but as he seems to understand, the galliard goes on. "The next part, adren, is my rank. Last night, we explained that you're a cub. A young garou, still learning. When you pass your test - your rite of passage, you'll be cliath. First rank. As you learn, and grow, and show that you can do things, you'll gain respect and renown among the garou, and eventually you'll feel like you should be looked at as a real adult. Then you'll challenge for fostern. You'll find someone of that rank, someone you respect, and they'll give you a test. If you pass it, you'll be fostern, too. If you don't, you'll wait, and learn some more, and try again."
More nodding signifies that even though Flint's gone back to finishing all of the food that was put on the plate, he is still paying attention to what Kavi is saying. A pause in eating, and the cub ticks off on his fingers, before looking up at Kavi once more. "Right." The assent is still the same, with the same tone of understanding behind it, for all that it's monosyllabic. Probably because there's food.
Kavi pauses to take a sip of his own juice and then looks into the glass as he sets it down. "Galliard is my auspice," he begins again. "The reason Mouse asked for your birthday was so she could find out what the phase of the moon was, when you were born. There are five phases, and each one corresponds to an auspice. What phase of the moon you have determines your role in our world. It's not… It's what you're good at, whether you know it, already, or not. The moon guides us. A lot. And this is one of those ways."
He takes another sip from his glass, watching the cub over the rim, and then continues. "The new moon, when you almost can't even tell she's there? That's Ragabash. They're the scouts and the fools. They remind us who we are, by making us question ourselves. The crescent moon are the Theurges. They're… Mouse is a Theurge. She's really smart. They're the… the shaman? They understand the spirits and things like that. The half moon are the Philodox. They're the ones in the middle, who can feel the balance. They're the mediators, and the judges. And the full moon are the Ahroun. We're all warriors? As garou? But they're the … the leaders. They're the ones who are drawn to it… more than the rest of us. Devon is an Ahroun."
As opposed to the earlier silent repetitions, the names of the auspices get repeated aloud, although quietly. "She said I was a Galliard," and the word is still slow and halting for Flint, "too, right." The comment is offered, not quite a question, and Flint looks up, away from the now empty plate, to watch Kavi. One hand goes up to rub at the back of his neck with a slight residual wince, after he's spoken.
"Yes," Kavi answers with another nod. "That's why… That's part of why she asked me to be your primary teacher. But not the only reason. That's one of our jobs. We were born under the gibbous moon, and we're the teachers, the storytellers, and the singers. We keep the history, and keep it alive for everyone else. We all have different ways of expressing ourselves, but that is what we do. I sing. I write songs and sing them. I know some galliards who dance, and some who draw. Some tell stories without music. For me… the music is important."
Once more, the cub nods assent, the empty juice glass turned around under one hand as Flint considers. For a moment, some internal conflict shows on the boy's face, a raising of eyebrows and quirk of the mouth as he thinks about it further, but it's pushed aside, the phrases 'suspension of disbelief' along with 'not a dream' are both audible, although whispered. "Right."
Kavi rises, taking the cub's plate and both of their glasses. "Do you want more juice?" he asks as he heads into the kitchen.
"Can I?" A nod follows the question, and then Flint ducks his head. "Sorry. Not used to there being seconds," he says quietly, apology.
"Of course," Kavi says from the kitchen. He leaves the plate in the sink, but fills both glasses with juice again. As he puts the pitcher back in the fridge, he holds the door open and gestures toward it. "There's also a lot more food. If you're hungry, you can eat anything here." He lets the fridge close, and opens the freezer to point out the dozens of single-serving plastic containers. "Rina always keeps it full. She says three minutes on high and then let it sit." Letting the freezer close, too, he picks up the glasses and returns to the table. "The last part of my name? My introduction? Is Glass Walker. That's my tribe. Yours, too. And Devon's, and Mouse's, and Rina's. There are thirteen that you should know about, right now, but you'll probably only meet eleven. Maybe twelve. I've only ever met one Stargazer, and that was back in India."
The refilled glass of juice is picked up, but Flint just holds it, instead mouthing the word 'tribe' several times over, before there's a hard swallow, and he looks down at the table as he finishes thinking about it. When he looks up again, though, there's a faint smile on his face. "Right."
From the hallway there's movement. The sound of one set of shoes scuffing against flooring and a single shadow drifting past the door to the break room.
Kavi nods and settles back into his seat across from the cub. "We'll talk more about the other tribes, later. But for now, I just want you to have heard their names. And we can talk about what it means to be a Glass Walker." He glances toward the sounds from the hall, and then returns his focus to the boy. "There are two tribes the others call Urrah, or city dwellers. That's us and the Bone Gnawers. In the woods, there are a few tribes who almost never come to the city. The Wendigo and Uktena, who are all Native American, and the Red Talons, who are all lupus—"
Here he breaks off with a frown and bites at the corner of his lip. "I'll talk about that more, later. But. Your parents were human. And mine were. Or, at least, one was human, and one was garou, usually. But some garou are born from wolf parents, and they're born as wolves and raised as wolves, until their first change. And some. Like Mouse? Are born from two garou parents. I. We need to talk more about that, but. But later. Just. Remember this: The first law of our people is garou shall not mate with garou, and. It's important."
"Garou shall not mate with garou," Flint says, the tone of puzzlement not entirely kept from his voice, and complete with the attitude of a teenager who hasn't noticed that the option of mating, in any form, exists. "Right." There's a moment of vacant expression, before he looks up at Kavi again. "You were saying, though?" The words are nearly an apology for talking to himself.
The lanky form of the Ahroun cub soon follows the drifting shadow, filling the doorway, and likewise the footsteps cease. An apologetic look flits across his expression, eyes going from Flint to Kavi. "…'m I interrupting?"
The younger teen's face furrows in concentration for a moment, before he looks back up and nods, and then a nod of greeting given to Devon as well. "Hi," he says, after watching Devon for a bit. A moment later, and the boy silently mouths through the information once more, counting off on the fingers of one hand.
Devon nods once, moving from the doorway and into the break room. He gives Flint a sort of salute, two fingers touching the side of his head then pointing in the younger cub's direction. "There's also the fallen tribe," he offers, feet taking him into the kitchen. "The White Howlers. They… Were Gaian?" He glances over his shoulder toward the elder Galliard for confirmation, while pouring himself a glass of juice.
Kavi looks over at Devon and nods, but slowly, and his gaze darts to Flint and then back again. "Right now. We were just talking about the ones he might meet. I. I want to save the history, for a little later." He pushes up from his seat, leaving his glass where it is. "I'm going to go get my guitar, so I can teach some of those stories. But. You could teach him the litany, and tell him about our tribe, while I'm gone. It'll take me a little. I left it at home. And when I get back," he says, turning to the newer cub. "You can tell me what you learned. Okay?"
"Right," Flint agrees, before glancing at the ceiling, staring off for a moment. Both hands wrap around the glass of juice as the younger cub sits there. "'Course."
"Sorry… Kavi-rhya." Devon looks down at his glass as his fingers wrap around it. He nods before turning back, moving from kitchen to lounging area. "Yeah, sure. Litany and our tribe."
Kavi looks from one to the other again, and for a second, he draws his lower lip between his teeth. "Stay safe," he says, and turns, slipping out into the hall, and then down the stairs.
Flint's gaze watches Devon after Kavi has left, and then he looks over at the older cub, turning the chair he's in to face. "So um." The younger teen falls quiet, sipping from the juice absently.
Devon's gaze follows Kavi out the door, then turns back to Flint. "Yeah," he agrees, lifting his free hand up to drag fingers through his hair. "So… You doing alright after last night? Kind've a rush. Or something."
"Mostly," Flint says, with a small smile. "It obviously wasn't a dream, and it's still better than…" the words cut off, uncertain, and Flint looks away for a moment, silently struggling to retain composure, and then the boy just abruptly moves on, abandoning the prior train of thought as something to deal with later. "Plus, breakfast was good, so."
"No, wasn't a dream," Devon agrees, half grinning. "Better off that I was after my first night." If there's any thought or question to Flint's change of demeanor or expression, the Ahroun doesn't show it. "Well, anyway. Not sure what to tell you about us. We're one of the two city tribes. We're kind of like that front line troops, protecting the city and humans from the Wyrm."
Flint grins back, starting to be a little bit more at ease. "Felt like a dream a bit. Not so much the …" he shrugs, eyebrows wrinkling in thought as he searches for the word, "change, as everything else." His head jerks towards the empty plate that he has left from breakfast. "I'm just not used to being around people who actually talk to me."
Devon settles himself on the floor, his back resting against the front of a chair. "People here'll talk to you. Kavi'll sing. And Rina's real good about talking and listening. She's also a great cook." His juice glass is set beside his hip, then arms are draped over his knees.
Flint nods agreement to the statement. "Yeah, she is." Then he falls silent again, watching Devon. "So, um." A shrug is offered, and the younger cub waits for the older to speak.
"So." Devon frowns slightly, looking at his hands. His brow creases again, fingers of one hand tracing over the scars on the other. "Yeah, we're pretty much protectors of humanity. Pretty much all the other tribes work to keep the forests and traditional nature-y things safe. But us, and usually the Bone Gnawers, keep the city and the humans in it safe."
The boy listens intently, a tilt of his head betraying the curiosity that's otherwise kept well in check. "Right." The ticking off of information on fingers happens again, before Flint looks back at Devon once more.
"Of all the tribes," Devon goes on, glancing up at the other boy, "we're pretty much the only ones to embrace technology. We use it in our efforts to protect humanity. Most of the others …don't exactly shun technology, but they prefer simple things. They don't rely as much on finding answers through the Internet or science or anything." He pauses, a faint grin coming to his features. "But they come to us to get those answers."
Another nod from Flint follows the older boy's speaking, before he grins. "That's good. I like technology, 'd hate to go without it really." He pauses, getting up to deal with his empty glass before then sitting down on the floor across from Devon. "So." Another grin follows.
Devon's head lifts when Flint sits in front of him, brows arching in silent askance. The silence stretches for a moment longer before he hedges to echo, "So… You got questions or… something?"
"Not that I can put together straight yet," Flint admits. "I mean, they're there, but not quite." He pauses, waiting a moment, fingers drumming on one knee. The jacket is pulled around him again, which makes him seem smaller than he is. "It's interesting, though. And I learn quick. At least, school always said I did." He grins. "And I like reading, and such, and learning, in general." A shrug is offered, then.
"Yeah," Devon's tone inflects the response with a question. He pushes one leg out from himself, the other remaining drawn inward, knee near his chest. "So'd they tell you what you are yet? Besides a werewolf and part of the Glass Walker tribe, I mean."
Flint nods. "Galliard," Flint responds, the word still uncertain and carefully pronounced. "Yeah. Books made better company than people used to," he adds. The hurt is pushed out of his voice, pushed away, and there's a slight tremble in his hands again, but it stills. "So I read a lot, whenever I could."
There's a bit of a pause, Devon's gaze carefully resting on his hands though he hasn't missed Flint's words. "Yeah, books make good company. Lot of times, when I was in elementary or middle school, books were better friends than the kids in my classes." Fingers entwine together as he looks up at the other cub. "Your quick learning'll help out with being a Galliard, though. You'll have to know histories and traditions and whatever else."
"We…" Flint pauses, and then continues, "we never stayed in one place long enough for friends in my classes to even be an option. Moved a lot. I lost count." There's a shrug. "So."
"That sucks." Devon drops one hand, picking up his glass and taking a long drink from it. "I was usually two years younger than those in my classes," he says, lowering his glass. "It's not even close to the same as moving around, but it didn't do well for making friends much, either. And that's even before the whole turning into a werewolf thing found me. But it's pretty good here. Mouse is nice, Kavi and Rina'll watch out for you. Kevin, too. There's others, but they're usually busy. Like Scar, I've only met him once. And Sol'll give you rides to Edgewood when you're okay to go out there."
Kavi returns after not too long, guitar case in hand. While the two cubs clear the table and wash the dishes, he prepares, and by the time they're done, he's settled onto the edge of the armchair, strumming an easy melody. He plays several songs for them, paying close attention to the newest cub as he does. He sings first of the Triat, and the basis of the war, a fugue of sorts, with each of the three taking on its own melody, repeating through the story. The second song is no lighter than the first, though it ends on a more pleasant note, as it tells of the Impergium, and introduces the Glass Walker tribe's role in ending it. And the last is the song of the Hidden Walk, from its beginning as the Wheel, through the revolutions to Wheel Renewed, and finally its current state.
After each, the galliard gives the cubs a chance to question the meanings, and gives detailed explanations, and at the end, when the guitar is safely back in its case once more, he rises. "Do you want to see? We could go there, now. For a little while."
Flint pays apt attention, head tilted to the side in the expression of attention. The boy's a sponge, at times, especially when it comes to new things. "That…" the beginning of the sentence trail off, nearly the opposite of the direct and well thought out questions that the young cub had asked several times, before he just nods in answer to what Kavi asks. "Yes, please."
Devon, having already heard it on several occasions, stays quiet and out of the way during Kavi's playing. He keeps himself busy in a non-distracting way, wiping down counters and refilling coffee or juice as needed. But he's listening as well, occasionally able to be spied pausing in a chore to watch the elder Galliard play. At the question, the Ahroun cub's gaze flicks to Flint, studying him for a long moment, before darting to Kavi when the younger boy answers.
Kavi looks from Flint to Devon, and his gaze remains on the older cub. "I'll borrow Mouse's car."
Flint pushes himself to his feet, his jacket pulled on again from where it had been discarded to the side at some point while Kavi played, subconsciously pulling the shirt he's wearing a little bit straighter.
Devon swipes a hand over the last space of counter, clearing away any remaining or imagined crumbs by brushing them onto the floor. "Bawn's alright," Devon offers to Flint, taking a few steps toward where the younger cub had remained. "Got to watch out for thorns, but you get used to it. Edgewood's nice, too, right there by the bawn. But there's no Internet or television or anything. Lots of books, though."
Kavi nods once and hefts the guitar. To Devon he says, "Grab some spare clothes." And then to both he adds, "I'll meet you downstairs." With that, he starts down the hallway, past the stairwell door, and past the cub's bunk room.
Flint nods, with a bit of a grin, and tucks his hands into his pockets as he makes his way out of the breakroom and then down.
Devon falls in behind Flint, though he detours into the cub's bunk room instead of going straight downstairs. Spare clothes are grabbed and stuffed into a pack, which is pulled over his shoulder as he turns and exits the room a few seconds later. Any confusion or question for the instructions is left behind, hidden away once he's reached the ground floor with the others.
Kavi isn't far behind, and whether the cubs notice the bulk beneath his jacket, he seems not to care, and certainly doesn't mention it himself.
The trip out to Edgewood takes a good forty minutes or more, and the galliard fills the space with quizzing the cubs on the litany and the purpose of their tribe. He even, as promised, explains why Mouse looks different than most of the garou Flint will meet, and what it means to be metis, and as a corollary, why Mouse is worthy of immense respect. It's obvious, in fact, from his tone and the way he speaks of her, that his respect for her is genuine and heartfelt, regardless of her position in garou society.
When they arrive, the galliard takes the cubs into Edgewood, and has each change into some of the older, perhaps more dispensable clothes from the bin upstairs, while he waits in the kitchen.
Flint changes clothes, leaving behind even his jacket. Then returns downstairs, slowly. His hands rest loosely and easily in his pockets, rather than the more frequently balled in fists in his pockets.
Devon likewise changes, a bit more slowly. He takes a moment to stow both sets of his own clothing in the pack he'd brought with, putting the pack away in some out of the way space. Then he wanders downstairs again, raking his fingers through his hair.
In the kitchen, there's water heating on the stove, though Kavi doesn't mention it when the cubs return. His jacket is off, placed carefully on the backs of one of the chairs, and what caused the bulk beneath it is now obvious - the shoulder holster and pistol held within. He looks up as the pair enter, and nods, as if to himself. "We talked about. About how Glass Walkers have to be able to take care of the city. And. We've talked about the veil, and not risking people seeing us."
"Right," the younger cub says, agreeing, and thinking back to the events of the previous night. Then he leans against the back of the other kitchen chairs, quiet.
Devon nods slowly as he leans against the frame to the kitchen doorway. "Yeah. Risks us and most of them can't handle it anyway."
Kavi nods. He checks the gun, briefly, and then starts toward the door. "Come outside."
Flint follows easily, with curiosity still showing plainly through his expression. "Okay." There's a hint of hesitation in the tone, but not much, nor does it translate to his steps.
Devon shrugs to himself, rolling off the doorframe to tag along after Flint and Kavi.
As the door closes behind them, Kavi turns to the cubs. "When you're in the city, you have to be able to fight without… Without betraying what we are. There's a lesson that every Glass Walker cub faces, so that, if it happens in battle, you'll be ready." He takes the gun into his hand, but holds it down at his side, rather than pointing it at either one. "This meadow is… Is the battleground. I'm going to shoot you. Your job is to get to the trees and hide, before you change forms. If you can do that, you pass the lesson." Looking more to Flint he adds, "Don't worry. As soon as you're hidden, you can change, and once you change you'll heal."
Flint nods, his hands still hooked by his thumbs into his pockets. There is some hesitation in his voice again as he voices his assent, but he makes his way out into the meadow a bit, looking around, eyes tracing the path from where he is to the trees.
"Crazy, barbaric practices," Devon breathes as he steps off the porch and starts for the meadow. There's a hint of disbelieving amusement to his tone, as though doubting the Galliard is actually going to shoot anyone.
"Ready," Kavi says, his voice low and even. "Set," he says as he raises the gun. "Go!" The last is given with a sharp bark, and almost as soon as the word is out, he levels the weapon at Devon and fires. A sharp crack splits the air, with almost no time at all between it and the pain that lances through the Ahroun cub's shoulder.
Just before the gun's report breaks the ambient silence of the meadow, Devon turns toward Kavi with a bit of a grin. The look twists into surprise and then pain a split second later when a round from the Galliard's gun bites through his shoulder. He twists with the impact, spinning and dropping to a knee as he lurches in haste for the trees.
The younger cub just watches it happen in silence, though his hands clench tightly. His gaze drifts, between Devon, Kavi, and simply the rest of the meadow.
Kavi's expression is blank, totally focused, totally serious. He turns immediately from Devon to Flint, waiting just a moment before fires again. It's no accident that this shot hits, as well, a through-and-through that just misses the humerus as it passes through the bicep. "Run!" he shouts, and starts running, himself, as if this were a game of tag, and he were 'it'.
Devon pushes off the ground with one hand, getting his feet under him. He claps that same hand to his shoulder, hunching for an instant before Kavi's voice reaches him. He half turns, glancing toward Kavi, feet shuffling into a half stumbled run toward the treeline.
Flint lets out a startled cry, though it wasn't truly unexpected. Still, the pain slows him for a moment, and he stands, shock-still, before beginning to run. Nor does the younger boy even make it to the treeline. The running steps stumble, and before he even falls, he's shifted to crinos, though he pushes himself back up, now onto all fours to continue going for the treeline.
The galliard holsters the weapon, even as he chases the two to the trees. He puts on a burst of speed as Flint changes shape, reaching the shadows just a heartbeat after the boys. "Calm," he says, slowing his own breathing as he slows his steps.
Devon more or less drops himself into the thickness of the undergrowth, less concerned with any brambles and thorns he might encounter than with the pain of the gunshot wound. Fingers tighten on the wound to his shoulder, feet push his form another pace or two deeper into the foliage before he allows himself to shift. He settles, after a second or two, in lupus, and remains sprawled on the ground.
The younger cub stops on the inside of the shadows towards the brush, with a low growl that dissipates as he rests. It's only after he's dropped to the ground and settled a moment that there is a slow approximation of a nod.
Kavi looks to his left to check on Devon, and gives a single nod at what he sees. "You'll be okay," he says as he turns from one to the other, his words intended for them both. His attitude is a little more wary as he looks over the crinos form. "Calm," he says again. "Try to shift down, to go back to your homid form. Human."
One-Foot-Forward's ears slant back when Kavi's attention turns toward him, then left again when the Galliard looks away. He follows the elder Garou's gaze to the new cub, hackles rising as he finds the other in crinos.
All-in-Stride looks up, with another nod, and the concentration makes the young cub go utterly and entirely still for a long moment, before the attempted gesture of a shrug when he fails.
Kavi glances to Devon and gives him a nod, encouragement or approval, or possibly release. He turns back to Takes-it-All-in-Stride and takes a step further, putting him more directly in front of the cub. "Slow," he says. "Slow your breathing. Calm your mind. When you're relaxed, you'll find yourself able to shift. Okay?"
One-Foot-Forward pushes himself upright slowly, still favoring one leg though the wound has already begun to heal. He watches Flint silently, ears ticking back slightly. He makes a small sound, a grunting whuff that sounds to echo Kavi's words.
Another nod, and this time, after a moment, this time it happens, and Flint sits up a bit, pulling to hug his knees tightly to his chest when he's shifted back to homid. "There," he says, almost inaudibly, before falling quiet again.
One-Foot-Forward starts back toward the house, ears laying back once again. His head lowers slightly as he walks, limp eventually fading as the wound completes its healing cycle. He glances back once, to look at Flint and then Kavi, before loping the remaining distance across the meadow and skulking up onto the porch.
After another moment just sitting there, Flint gets to his feet, nodding. "Tea sounds nice," he admits, still very much quieter than what so far seems to be usual for the boy. A grin slips onto his face very briefly, before he starts toward the house again, arms hugged across himself as he does so.
Kavi gives Devon a glance, a wordless reminder, as he opens the door. "You can get dressed as soon as you're inside," he says. "And the tea will be down here, when you're ready."