caleb's cabin.

[Wyrmbreaker] It's a long way out from the Brotherhood when you aren't driving.

Fortunately, Lukas isn't walking, either. He's running -- a black wolf under the enormous umbral moon which is all darkness tonight: a shadow amongst the stars. He's loping steadily, swiftly past the shadows of skyscrapers and towers, past the warehouses and the docks, past the midrises, the brownstones, the houses, the suburbs.

There are spirits out here. Gafflings of flora and fauna, and other, stranger creatures. Once, he sees sitting in the branches of an enormous oak -- old enough that its spirit is nearly as solid as its physical self -- an owl with the eyes of a human. Its head turned a hundred eighty degrees to follow Wyrmbreaker as he ran past.

At last, nearing Caleb's cabin, the Shadow Lord's steady groundeating lope begins to slow. His tongue is lolling out, his breathing and heartrate elevated, but steady: as though his body were a machine shifted to a higher gear. He finds a still pond, laps at the silvery water that nourishes his spirit more than it slakes his thirst. Then focuses on his image and slides across...

...appearing in a darker, denser forest. The moon isn't even visible anymore from the Realm. Small animals skitter out of his way, frightened, as he trots looselimbed down the leaf-strewn hill behind Caleb's cabin. He looses a short, gruff bark at the back door, his claws ticking on the wood porch, then scratching on the door. When Caleb opens the door, Wyrmbreaker's ice-blue eyes, pale as a siberian wolf's, look up at the Theurge. The run, the strenuous exercise, has quickened his blood and brightened his mood. He lolls his tongue out, briefly appearing to grin before he pushes his nose against his packmate's hand -- playfully? -- and then brushes past.

He's hot from his run, heat and musky wolf-scent rising from his pitchblack fur as he enters the cabin. He's never been here before. He pauses a few strides in to look about, his ears pricked and curious.

[Caleb Delacourt-Alden] When one thought of a Silver Fang's home, they often thought of large estates with mansions that were all but castles in the woodlands, or posh apartments in the downtown sections of busy cities. It might be a bit of a surprise that the abode of Caleb Delacourt-Alden was none of these, but a small quaint cabin deep within the woods.

It had once belonged to a park ranger, a Kinfolk of Caleb's tribe. She had left, and Caleb had taken it over. With only three bedrooms and a small kitchen and living area, it had the full effect of a cozy little home. Completely rustic, but it did hold all the necessary needs of a wolf-lord.

Lukas' incessant scratching had roused the theurge from his meditations to open and admit the lupus-skinned Shadow Lord. The back door led immediately to the kitchen, which through another door was led to the living room. It was obvious that a woman lived here as well, the place having the scent of a woman within as well as things you typically wouldn't see in a bachelor's living space like doileys and the like.

A large couch and a chair that looked more to be a massive throne than a chair, and a fire burning low in the hearth. On the mantle over that fireplace was Mrena's scabbarded sword. Above that, a family portrait of the Delacourt-Aldens. Caleb's younger siblings, brothers and sisters as well as he with his wife with Emelia Delacourt and Gregor Alden de Morres standing behind their children. Next to the family portrait was Caleb and Ana Eliza's wedding photo.

The place was warm, inviting, and definitely gave one the sense of ease. "Good evening, my friend," he said to Lukas. "What has brought you all the way out here?"

[Wyrmbreaker] Wyrmbreaker's pale eyes take in everything at once. He sniffs the air, the ground beneath his paws; he lopes to the throne-chair before the fire and catches Caleb's scent there. Then, turning around, he reverts to human shape -- gradually, though he could take it instantly -- and when the last of the fur recedes, smiles at Caleb.

"You have a nice home," he says, which could be just politeness but isn't. The smile is genuine; so is the compliment.

In homid, Lukas is flushed from his run -- color beneath the swarthiness of his skin. A wolf's cooling comes from his tongue and his paw-pads; a man's, from the sweat glands in his skin. Almost immediately, sweat begins to dampen Lukas's hairline, the back of his neck. It makes his dedicated clothing, which looks much like his hang-around-the-Brotherhood clothing, stick faintly to his chest and back.

He pitches his voice low, in case Caleb's mate sleeps. "We never finished our discussion of Gabriella, and by the time I was free again you were gone -- listen, is there a glass I could borrow somewhere?" he interrupts himself, looking about. "I'm absolutely parched."

[Caleb Delacourt-Alden] "Thank you," he said. "You should see my estate in France. It's nice, but I much prefer my home here."

Lukas asks for a glass, and Caleb merely nods and heads into the kitchen to find him one. The sound of running water ensued, and the theurge returned with a large glass of water for the ahroun. That the man had ran all the way here caused him to smile a trifle - he could of taken a cab. The road wasn't paved, but it wasn't a deer-path either.

"Indeed. Discussing things like that where there are eyes and ears isn't really a good practice."

[Wyrmbreaker] Wyrmbreaker gulps the water, the entire glass, at a single pull. He starts with the glass a little below the horizontal and his head level; he ends with the glass almost inverted, his head thrown back. He doesn't spill a drop, though he does wipe his mouth on his arm when he's finished.

"Thanks," he says, and sets the glass down on the nearest convenient coaster. Raising his eyebrows with a glance to Caleb, he takes a seat on the sofa if permission is given. This is, after all, Caleb's domain. He stretches out once he's sitting, kicking his legs out before him, crossing them at the ankle. His feet are bare; either he left the dedicated shoes at home, or he never bothered to have shoes dedicated.

"What's the problem, anyway? Gabbie alluded to something of the sort a few weeks ago when I ran into her on the street, but I wasn't ... in the mood to deal with it at the time."

[Caleb Delacourt-Alden] Grabbing the glass casually, he went to refill it for the Ahroun should he be so inclined to have more of the water. Quite different from the city water, Caleb's water was well water. A constant 52 degrees unless heated, and as refreshing as drinking from a mountain spring. The beauty of nature, the tranquility of the forest; it all helped to soothe the war-like tensions even the newest Ragabash faced. That, and having grown up in the wilderness the Silver Fang couldn't bring himself to live within the city limits.

A slight nod to Lukas so that he may be seated, Caleb took up his chair and relaxed. The two of them were packmates, so the image displayed was less a king on his throne than two war-chiefs conversing. "First, she goes behind Katherine and Edward's back to bed Sam right under their very noses. The latest of these transgressions - that I know of - she has taken a man to her bed named Aidan. I observed him exiting her bedroom at the Brotherhood one night, smelling as though he had rolled in - please excuse the expression, because I can't come up with one better - vaginal secretions.

"I questioned her about this, and the girl more or less told me that she and her doings were none of my business. She has deliberately disobeyed me, and openly defied me on these things. She did what was a verbal equivolent of spitting in my face, and that my friend I believe is not tolerable."

[Wyrmbreaker] Aidan. Aidan. Does he know an Aidan? The name turns over in his mind, and then he lets it go, lets it sift to the bottom to be rucked up against someday, perhaps, when he actually came across this Aidan.

Accepting the second glass, Lukas merely sips this time instead of gulping; sets the glass on his knee between swallows. His playfulness, if that was what it was, has settled to something a little quiet. Still, when Caleb says vaginal secretions in such a fussy, distasteful tone, Lukas can't help the quick grin that flickers and fades.

They are very similar sometimes, these two wolves whose bloodlines ultimately hail from Eastern Europe; these two wolves that most would consider members of the ruling tribes of the Nation. Yet Fangs were never quite like the Lords, or perhaps the other way around: the Lords were always a little more savage, a little less civilized behind their facades; a little more likely to get their paws dirty.

Lukas listens, though, and when Caleb is finished, he raises his eyebrows a little. "Is she even still your concern? I thought Sam held the claim now."

[Caleb Delacourt-Alden] "The accord that Sam Modine and I had came to was that she is to remain under his protection for two lunar cycles. It is to give him time to know his own heart, which I don't think he completely does when it comes to her. I asked him if he wanted to mate her, and he said something along the lines of 'maybe.' Among our tribes, 'maybe' doesn't suit when other tribes are concerned. There are other stipulations to that accord, but that is the jist of it."

A soft sigh escaped his lips as he looked briefly to his wine cabinet. The notion was discarded - Caleb drank enough at the Brotherhood. Aside, the last thing the two of them wished to do was wake his wife. Ana Eliza, Caleb's Brazillian goddess, had a temper like a volcano at times.

"Can I offer you anything to eat?" he added idly as he made his way again to the kitchen to bring back a bottle of Coca-Cola, which he drank from sparingly. "Gabriella thinks that I and the rest of the Silver Fangs wish to match her up with a suitable man, to make her tend hearth and whatnot and basically everything that a woman's rights activist would wage war over. I cannot speak for her immediate family, but as for myself I merely wish that she conduct herself in a manner that does not shame herself and her tribe. How did Sampson put it? Ah, yes. What dishonors one, dishonors all, or some such."

A small chuckle, and Caleb shook his head. "But none of that answers your question. No matter who's claim she is under, as long as she carries Silver Fang blood within her veins she will continue to be my concern. That goes for all Silver Fang Kinfolk regardless of who has claimed them within this realm."

[Wyrmbreaker] "I'm good," Lukas turns down the offer of food with a shake of his head, "I ate before coming out here."

He watches the fire while Caleb goes to get himself a bottle of Coke. He's still a little overheated, but the nights are cool, and there's a certain hypnotic draw to a good fire, regardless.

When the Fang returns Lukas looks up to watch him cross the room, resettle in his chair. By then the Lord has slouched a little bit lower, relaxing before the hearth. Again, he listens until Caleb is finished, and after, thinks a moment.

"I think Gabriella's young and silly," he says at last. "She's rebelling, which is what young and foolish teenagers do, and she's been rebelling for a long time now. That said, I think these days she's acting as much out of fear and hurt as simple stubbornness.

"Fear, because she's deathly afraid that her freedom will be taken from her, and her keeping given unto a Trueborn of her family's choosing. Truth is, she has every right to fear that. Unless you or Sam has gone to directly challenge her kin, any claims in this city are merely claims of guardianship. In the end, her kinsmen back east have the final say over where she's going, and -- from what she and her siblings said of their wider family -- it'll be an arranged marriage for her.

"Hurt, because -- well. This was before you joined the pack, but she and Hatchet had a close friendship. I saw them together a few times. I think it might've begun as an act of rebellion, but a fool could see there was ... something more, on Gabriella's side. A crush, that she might have mistaken for love. But ultimately, for his own reasons, I don't think Hatchet returned her affections."

Lukas knows why now. For sure. The emotions, if not the physical facts. But he keeps that to himself; perhaps out of respect for the dead; perhaps out of the simple practicality of the dead no longer mattering.

"Anyway," he continues, "I think these days Gabriella is trying to soothe the sting of what's probably her first rejection, ever, by finding men that will say yes, yes, yes to her. And I think she's trying to escape the noose by acting out as much as she can.

"So I doubt cracking down harder on her will make a difference. If anything, it'll encourage her rebellion. The more Kate said no, the more Gabbie hung out with Hatchet. And Gabbie must've known bedding Sam under her sister's roof was unacceptable. She did it anyway. If you really care about what she's doing -- whether because you think she's tanking your reputation, or because you actually give a damn about her -- I think your only real option is to try to ... help her through her hurt and fear."

Lukas takes another sip of water at the end. Ponders the fire a moment.

"I'll tell you the truth, though. If she were my kin, I'd just leave her be. I like Gabriella. She's a nice girl. But she's not worth my time and energy. She'll grow out of it or she'll end up with her reputation in tatters or she'll anger her family so much they finally come and drag her away. Any which way, she'll sink or she'll swim.

"But then, I think my Tribe views these things differently."

[Caleb Delacourt-Alden] Caleb was nodding slightly, musing over Lukas' words as he considered these things. It all had the ring of truth to him, and truth was something he couldn't deny. "I suppose I can remember what it was to be a rebellious teenager," he said slowly. Conspiratorily, he leaned in to whisper a bit too loudly to the other man. "When I was about 14 years old, after my First Change, I thought it would be a good laugh to shift to my lupus form and have one of my cousins take me for a walk, as you might say. Imagine the look of shock on my neighbor's faces to see a 15 year old girl walking a full-blood wolf through the suburbs of Lafayette. Father was furious."

A soft chuckle at the memory. Caleb had only Changed a year or two before that incident and was still a cub at the time, but Gregor had come close to nearly killing his son. Back to business: "I told her much the same originally, she and Sam. What I say can be overridden by her true family, and she knows it. Sam, I think, took a bit more convincing. I'm not King Albrecht after all... Truth to tell, I don't think I would want his job anyway."

The coke was swallowed more deeply this time to wet his lips as he settled back in his chair. Women it seemed were always making his life a living hell. "I wrote her a letter og apology, because whenever I speak no matter the occasion the girl seems hear but not listen. She hasn't replied, but no matter. I've come to about the same conclusions that you said you would do. She'll either grow up or her family will come to cart her off. I'll protect her if she needs protecting, but other than that? She's on her own."

[Wyrmbreaker] Lukas snorts a laugh at the anecdote. "Good thing I never tried that in the Bronx," he says, wryly. "NYPD would've had my sister's ass in the slammer and mine at the pound in 5 minutes."

Back to business. Lukas takes another sip of water, then leans to the side to set it on the endtable. Caleb comes to a decision; Lukas watches him a moment.

"The one danger of that, particularly for your Tribe, is that your Tribesmen might put you under fire for not being able to control one of your precious kin. Or worse, her family might rail at you for 'allowing' this to happen." He shrugs, "I don't know exactly how Fangs deal with one another and their kin. But it's something to consider. That said, I think it's unquestionable that the more you try to command her, the more she'll rebel."

A pause. "Unless you have the heart to actually beat her into submission. That's always an option, though -- I don't know how your Tribe would feel about that, either."

[Caleb Delacourt-Alden] "Among Garou such a thing would work," he said with a light shrug. "I am afraid that beating her into submission literally would only worsen matters. As it stands, the girl hates me. I am a theurge, my friend, but I carry enough of Gaia's anger in me to nearly rival an Ahroun, and you know as well as I what happens when we are insulted beyond reproach."

Shaking his head a bit sadly, Caleb screwed the cap back onto the soda bottle and set it aside. "I didn't strike her, but I did let her know exactly who had final say by way of dangling her off the floor about two or three feet. And in some ways, we theurges can be more dangerous than ahrouns.

"We deal with our Kin with an iron hand, but there-in lies the rub. My wife was a Fianna, so how can I be married to what my tribe would call 'common rabble' and yet not allow her to do the same?"

A soft sigh, again. "As far as I am concerned, she can choose who she wants to mate, but what I really want is for Gabriella to not conduct herself like a whore. As I see it, that's the path she is on."

[Wyrmbreaker] My wife was a Fianna, Caleb says, and the look on Lukas's face is best described as revelation. He hadn't known that before. Suddenly he grasps the difficulty of Caleb's situation.

"Well," Lukas replies, raising his eyebrows a small degree, "why don't you tell her that? Explain that it's her life -- for now, anyway -- but it's not in her best interest to give herself away so cheaply. Or at least, so indiscreetly."

Lukas uncrosses his feet at the ankles, bends one knee. Caleb sets the soda bottle aside and he leans forward to take it, raising it in question before taking a swig. Then he replaces it where Caleb left it. If he's amused that Caleb drinks cognac at the Brotherhood and soda under his mate's watchful eye, he doesn't say anything of it.

"Are you going to tell Sam about it?" he asks.

[Caleb Delacourt-Alden] "I have," he said after nodding to the bottle of soda. Caleb did drink occasionally out here in the woods, but not as often in the city. For many Garou that preferred living in the wilderness to urban life, Caleb like they needed something to settle their nerves every now and then. "Either she doesn't believe me or she thinks I'm lying. No matter - the only way to prove that I mean what I say is to do exactly that."

Shifting on the chair, he slouched a little as he raised his left ankle to place it atop his right knee and cupped his chin in his left hand. An eyebrow rose considerably. "Tell Sam? No, I don't think that I should be the one to tell him. That should be for her to do, if she can. I firmly and truly believe that if I had not seen Aidan coming out of her bedroom that night, slinking away as though he had gotten away with something, and that I had not brought it up to her that she wouldn't of told me."

[Wyrmbreaker] "Don't spend too much effort on it, Cal." It's a familiarity, the truncation of his name; Lukas may not even realize he does it. "Leave her be or try to explain, but if she's hellbent on ruining her name it might be just something you'll have to let her do. I understand needing to guard the honor of your tribe and your kin, but in the end there are better things to do than fuss over one kingirl who won't stop acting like a child."

Lukas nods at the rest. "It's probably best that Sam never finds out, anyway. He's a Fenrir; god knows what he'll do if he hears someone's been at the one he considers his.

"Who's this Aidan, anyway?"

[Caleb Delacourt-Alden] "Aidan... Well, he looks and smells like a Fianna. He has the lineage of one, that I can scent anyway. And he also looks to be about a third smaller than myself if not more. Sam would destroy him. I had thought to pay him a little visit, but I'm leaving well enough alone at the moment."

Personally speaking at the moment Caleb didn't truly care what became of Gabriella Bellamonte. He and the rest of the Circle had more important things to deal with, namely keeping the pack from falling apart.

[Wyrmbreaker] "If you decide to approach him," Lukas suggests, "go to Hatchet first. It's his kin, after all."

[Caleb Delacourt-Alden] Caleb nodded, not having much more to say on the matter.

[Wyrmbreaker] So there's a silence between the packmates for a moment, punctuated by the crackling of the fire. It reminds Lukas of sitting before the hearth at the Brotherhood; the wingback chairs, Royal Lochnagar in hand.

After another moment, he stirs, sits up a little. "It's pretty late, Caleb. I should probably let you get back to your warm bed. Are you coming into the city tomorrow?"

[Caleb Delacourt-Alden] "Yes, I will be there. Come back any time. You're always welcome, Lukas." Rising, the Silver Fang made to see the Shadow Lord out before closing the door and returning to bed with his wife.

[Wyrmbreaker] "I'll see you then," Lukas says.

At the door he clasps Caleb's forearm briefly. It's dark out here; the porch light is off. His grin is a white blur in the dark. Then he turns and melts into his wolf shape in three paces; crosses the gauntlet in five. The pines and the alders whisper in his wake.