09-09-2013, 10:23 AM
The first time Phoebe and her sisters come to Forgotten Questions, well:
Fern runs away and hides. The garou who are sort-of watching over her and rehabilitating her can't quite explain it, and end up running after her to make sure she doesn't get herself lost in the umbra, but she doesn't want anything to do with garou from Cold Crescent.
The second time, the cub is losing it a bit. She throws some rocks at the Oracles and bolts. She yells GO AWAY a few times until her caretakers... guardians... whatever you call them drag her off before she offends a couple of fosterns too much.
It takes a third visit before Fern is, quite plainly, brought to them with heavy hands on her shoulders steering her skinny frame towards the Desert Oracles. She's got her arms tight to her sides, her body tense. Her hair is long and lank and greasy; they can't get her to bathe very often and she actually isn't allowed to spend much time out of lupus form.
"Behave," says the philodox who has been tasked with mentoring the girl until she's sane enough to submit to another ahroun's leadership, and Fern just... looks miserable standing there, keeping a solid six feet between herself and the Oracles. She's dressed in jeans with blown-out knees that are too short for her long legs and a plain t-shirt grabbed from some lost and found bin, both of which are pretty filthy because she doesn't do laundry any more than she bathes. Her feet are bare. Her arms are crossed high and tight over her chest, hands under her biceps.
Fern doesn't say a word. She just stares at Phoebe, Sophia and Keisha, giving them a wary glower.
Fern runs away and hides. The garou who are sort-of watching over her and rehabilitating her can't quite explain it, and end up running after her to make sure she doesn't get herself lost in the umbra, but she doesn't want anything to do with garou from Cold Crescent.
The second time, the cub is losing it a bit. She throws some rocks at the Oracles and bolts. She yells GO AWAY a few times until her caretakers... guardians... whatever you call them drag her off before she offends a couple of fosterns too much.
It takes a third visit before Fern is, quite plainly, brought to them with heavy hands on her shoulders steering her skinny frame towards the Desert Oracles. She's got her arms tight to her sides, her body tense. Her hair is long and lank and greasy; they can't get her to bathe very often and she actually isn't allowed to spend much time out of lupus form.
"Behave," says the philodox who has been tasked with mentoring the girl until she's sane enough to submit to another ahroun's leadership, and Fern just... looks miserable standing there, keeping a solid six feet between herself and the Oracles. She's dressed in jeans with blown-out knees that are too short for her long legs and a plain t-shirt grabbed from some lost and found bin, both of which are pretty filthy because she doesn't do laundry any more than she bathes. Her feet are bare. Her arms are crossed high and tight over her chest, hands under her biceps.
Fern doesn't say a word. She just stares at Phoebe, Sophia and Keisha, giving them a wary glower.
my whole life is thunder.