Teacher [Fire Claws]

[Gwen Sullivan] The night prior Gwen had decided that she needed to talk to the Get of Fenris Lupus, the one that had torn her apart the last time they'd met and let her to heal with some lesson about knowing why they fight in mind. She had scoured the Caern and its surrounding lands, checked through Grant Park, and retired to home in the wee hours of the morning on account of school needing to be attended.

School today was lost on the cub. She drifted from class to class until she found Vince at lunch and cornered him, asking about a ride out to Tekakwitha. He was reluctant, hesitant as he was with most interactions with his old friend these days, but he acquiesced none the less. So the last class of the day was breezed through and Gwen slipped out early, school things left in her locker, meeting up with her pal behind the school in his old silver Toyota Corolla.

The drive was filled dominantly with music, and when it came to an end at the edge of the woods Vince paused to ask her if he should wait (not what the hell she was doing here), to which she said no, that she would call if she needed a ride back. A weak grin was exchanged between the pair before Gwen got out and watched Vince drive away. She'd wait until he was out of sight, then step out of view of the road into the trees before undressing. Her clothes were folded up and tucked against the trunk of a tree along with her cellphone, and with that taken care of she shifted.

Present now as a young tawny-gray wolf with a snow-white face, she put her nose to the air, whuffed and sniffed, then licked her snout thoughtfully before putting her nose to the sky and trying out a howl for the first time.

What Fire Claws would hear was a voice uncertain, a call without a message beyond, perhaps, inquiry. It was physically the howl of a wolf, but the mind behind it hadn't been wolf for long.

[Fire Claws] The woods outside Chicago could be a strange and confusing place to those that are not used to the wildlife. There were no street lamps, no sidewalks, no streets, nothing that made life in Chicago easier for the monkeys who called it home. Here trails are stomped down, but not easy. Rocks and fallen trees bar the path of those without imagination to get around these obstacles. The only light that can be seen was either provided by use of a flashlight or trying to use the stars and the sliver of the moon. However weak that light was.

No here the predators were kings, not the monkey born. Here those that can track, hunt, kill were masters, Teeth and claws were more useful than streets and building. Here among the natural world, the beauty of Gaia could be seen and the world was worth fighting for.

And Fire Claws hunted, not so much the prey that garou were made for hunting, but to feed. It was starting to change, the leaves falling from the trees. Prey were getting ready for the struggle that was winter. But now they needed to feed themselves, stuff their furs so endure the harsh season ahead. And that made for some great prey. When the howl from what should not know the language comes forth, at first there is no answer. No howl of introduction in return, no call to the young pup waiting for a response. Nothing like that.

But soon the smell would come over her, his scent caught on the wind. Drifting in her direction and something else. Something she might have learned quite well already, something she will need to learn about. The smell of blood.

[Gwen Sullivan] Gwen stood still amidst fallen leaves and dying brush, ears perked, listening to hear if there would be any response.

There was none save for the crickets and the birds.

But her nose didn't fail her, it was something she was learning to rely on heavily. It made perfect sense, out here in the trees she had little light and no landmarks to make sense of direction with, and sounds were quiet and plentiful both, so they could be deceptive. But wolves, they had a good thing going with this strong sense of smell. She put her nose down now, sniffed at the dead leaves, got a deep whiff of them (she loved that smell, it was even more complex through this nose), then smelled the air once more.

Copper, warmth, thick and sweet. She new the tang of blood just like everyone did, she was just more willing to call it 'blood' than relate it to some kind of metal. She took a few slow steps forward, turning her head to try and pinpoint the direction of the smell. The direction she'd initially chosen was wrong, but trial and error was practiced and after a minute she was trotting in the right direction, toward Fire Claws, following the smell of blood and the faint, faint scent of familiarity riding below it.

[Fire Claws] If she started along the human trails, she would find that the scent of Fire Claws would not stay along that trail for long. He was a wolf, he did not hunt so close to human scent. Animals did not feel comfortable near humans, they were dangerous and deadly creatures. Destructive creatures that didn't care what happened to anything around them. He hunted deeper in the woods, far from the trails and service cabins. She would learn that the wolf body was a wonderful tool that few understood truly, especially out here. Sleak and slim body could cut through the woods with ease, the smells gave you everything that sight lacked.

And as she moved through the woods he would find the wolf she hunted, eyes glowing in he darkness as he watched her approach. And what she would find may shock the poor little pup. His maw dripped with blood and entrails, covered to his nose in black blood, the carcass of a small deer laying before him, claw marks against the neck and the stomach exposed.

Smaller hunters still waiting for him to get his fill before moving off, leaving the rest to those who could not kill like he could. And he howled in return.
{WS}
"What is it pup? I am eating."

[Gwen Sullivan] Shock wasn't the best word for what seized Gwen when she came upon Fire Claws with the insides of a young deer all over his face. Matter of fact, seized wasn't a great word for it either. She knew that wolves were predators, she had no reason whatsoever to be surprised by what she saw-- after all, she'd been following the smell the whole way there. More than anything, a touch of queasiness tapped the back of her human mind, but she ignored it. This was nature, this was the way of things. She could only imagine how it felt on his end to watch one of her kind eat a twinkie.

He asked what she wanted, and she ducked her head, briefly, in deference before straightening up to address him in the language of wolves, half body, half whuffs and grunts. "I needed to see you."

Her peppered white paws set firm in the dying autumn grass, and her weight shifted between them, uncertain where to rest, if she should get comfortable enough to sit or if she should be braced for another 'lesson'. "I need to learn. To know. I won't be weak or need to be babysat anymore. I won't be the liability. You... would teach me? What I need to know?"

[Fire Claws] He dipped his head back into the body of the deer, eating hearty from the exposed stomach before scuffing again, blowing some snot and blood from his nose to the grass nearby the corpse. His eyes coming up on the young wolf looking over him. He moves from the deer a moment towards the tawny wolf near by. If he had not met her once before, he would be growling and snapping at her so close to his kill. But not right now. His body moves slowly and he yips back at her.
"Why the change of heart cub?"

He moves towards her now, blood still painted on his fur and claws, a trail of blood moving from the deer along the dying grass towards the smaller wolf. Eyes narrow.

[Gwen Sullivan] Her initial response in her previous life, one she was only starting to bleed away from, would be to back up when he approached-- not out of fear, but because it was easier to avoid conflict, smarter, less hassle for everyone. Tonight, though, she was on the path of learning. She recognized that retreat seemed to be looked down upon, that she was scoffed and scowled at when she ducked her head and tried not to cause trouble. She wasn't sure what the in-between was, so she was now testing confidence, seeing if she could do so without seeming arrogant or out of place.

So she stood still, weight dominantly on her back feet, like she was feeling compelled to sit down but choosing to stay on her feet instead, to stay stationary, eyes on the larger male wolf while he approached, dripping blood from his face down through the thick winter pelt of his chest.

"There is no changing what I am, no desire to do so either. I know what I have to be, and I know that I am not completely that person yet. What I do know is that I cannot stay where I am, unlearned and useless. I won't be a liability anymore, and I won't be looked down upon." There's a pause, brief, while she licked at her chops, something similar to a person scrubbing at their own cheek when they see a person with crumbs on theirs, this in response not to crumbs, though, but to blood.

"You are a half-moon. I haven't met many others. You have looked at me and spoken to me, rather than simply seen me and barked an instruction at me. I think you would be a good teacher, and I think that I would be best benefited learning from you."

[Fire Claws] He listened to her howls, but her body language said more than what her huffs would. She was afterall human and many times there words were nothing more than lies. He watched her body, still and stiff, trying to where the mask of confidence. He huffed away some more blood from his nose and coughed up a small piece of meat that didn't go down properly.
"You expect much pup. Think I can make you worth while. You are wrong."

He turns from her and starts to growl slightly and lowly, his body moving into a defensive stance. The smell of another predator nearby caught his nose, and near the edge of some fallen trees, within the little den the criss-cross pattern sat a small fox, looking to move in on the potential kill. But he was not finished yet, not full. His hunger ran deeper than that. He padded to the deer once more and looked for the next bite.

[Gwen Sullivan] She tensed, shoulders tightening and fur prickling, when Fire Claws shifted his posture to defensive and turned away, growling at something shifting about nearby. She wasn't sure what there was out here, not for certain, it could be anything from a rabbit to a boogyman.

But it was just a fox.

She relaxed, but not entirely. Still stiff, still slightly defensive, she looked back to Fire Claws and shifted between her front paws, lifting one before setting it back down, back and forth before forcing herself still again. "You don't make me worth while. You help me know how to be. Whether I become so or not would be on my shoulders."

There's another pause, and in this her Rage simmers quietly, irritation swelling and slipping away again like the ebb and flow of the ocean tides. "Why would I be here if I weren't worth while? Why wouldn't I be dumb and blind like the rest of the world? Like my parents are? If I'm worth nothing, then why the hell can I see and do what I can?"

[Fire Claws] The smell of blood filled the air now, soon stronger predators would be coming around looking for the kill and ready to fight over the rest of the meat. The fox would have to wait to have its share, if it gets any at all. However he didn't seem to want much of the kill now, he did pick up the deer by the neck and drag the creature towards the monkey wearing wolf clothes. His body strong and filled with flesh. Finally dropping it in front of her, should she wish to eat. Watching her with intent.
"Good your not an idiot."

He waited until she finished eating before he would address any of the concerns she had. The idea that she might not be worth while, that she was just born because of a mistake in the grand scheme. He watched her and waited. `

[Gwen Sullivan] The fox was kept at bay by the threat of a larger predator. It may be smaller, weaker, but it certainly wasn't any dumber than wolves. It knew what battles it could and could not win, and it knew if it was patient enough there would be something left for it. So it would wait, never completely stationary, but always nearby, for the carcass to be abandoned and for its chance to fill its belly before others arrived as well.

Fire Claws seemed to pause, to consider her while she demanded to know what sense there would be in her if she truly were worthless, to think of her logic before he seized the deer by its throat and dragged it nearer to her before releasing it and stepping back, watching her expectantly.

Now the dominant human in Gwen's mind blanched a bit at the thought, but sense told her that disgust was a senseless reaction. It existed in the human body because that stomach didn't have the enzymes to break down raw meat like this or the bacteria it carried. The wolf body, however, would do fine. Plus something about the offering felt two sided, like a test and a peace offering both. So she looked up at the male with dark amber eyes, then stepped forward and dipped her nose down to the opened stomach of the deer, sniffing and huffing (and shutting down the part of her brain that rejected the idea vehemently). After the initial pause, though, she fed.

Some fistful of minutes had passed before Gwen sat back, licking at her maw, white-stained-red, and looking to Fire Claws. A red tongue swept over her nose a couple of times, to clear it of the blood that was stuck, but success in this endeavor only came after a snort and a sneeze that sprayed the grass.

Finally: "Where do I begin?"

[Fire Claws] "At the beginning."

It was such a simple response to such a loaded question, but it was the logical place to start. She most likely had several questions to everything. She wanted to learn what she was, why she was born the way she was born. To be born into a world that could see the truth for what it was, the dying beauty of Gaia, a war against a monster who didn't seem to be stopped. She wanted to know why she is worth fighting this war. He begin to pad away from the deer now, waiting for the pup to follow. It was about time that the rest of the weaker ones lived off of his kill, to keep the life cycle still around. He huffed and padded off following the wind and smelling the terrain. He remembered a stream some place back from the kill, a place to drink up.

"I am no theurge, I cannot tell you reason why you were born specifically. What destiny you have. I can tell you that we are meant to fight and kill so others my survive. Just like that fox who will now feed on my kill."

[Gwen Sullivan] The Lupus-born began to walk, away from the kill now that the pup had had her turn with it, and as was anticipated Gwen moved to follow after him, licking at her muzzle and nose, unused to the feel of blood drying into the fur of her face. She imagined it was exactly what it was like to be a man with a mustache allowing beer froth to dry into it. It was no wonder that they wiped their faces so much.

As they walked, they spoke as wolves do. She trotted to move up closer to his side, but not directly at it. A few feet of space between, with her nose roughly as far forward as his shoulder was. He was still leading, but it was easier to communicate with him, not his rear.

"I know the genetics, Adamidas had explained the basics to me. I know of Gaia and the Wyrm, of the Umbra and the War. What I do not understand completely is where I fit in, and what I am to do now that I know. It feels wrong to be alone, and it's... becoming hard to stay that way."

[Fire Claws] "A theurge is a good teacher of the Umbra and the mysteries of our past. Where you fit in, you must learn for yourself. But for our birth, Luna dictates that to us. We were born under the half-moon, Luna calls for us to be keepers of the Laws and Tradition."

He barks at her as they move through the woods, far from the trail. Padding over the grass wipes away some of the blood from the claws that Fire Claws used to bring down the simple creature. He had said his piece to the spirit that offered itself up for him to nourish himself and those about the kill now. However the blood was slowly drying on his fur, his tongue whipping to clean what he could from his nose.

"You know the Litany by heart, I have heard it. But when you spoke it without passion you insult Luna. We must be passionate about the Litany for it is us who judge those who do not uphold it."

[Bridget] The unusually warm November keeps winter at bay for now, drawing a wayward Canadian kin to less populated ventures. Being the dead of night, the French Canadian camped tentless with a lean-to made of deadfall over canvas. Located at a protected niche above the stream level, the camp is sufficient for these unusually warm nights. A sleeping bag is hidden within the lean-to, while food supplies are pitched up on a non-loadbearing branch where it looks prepared for bears.

There is no campfire and the makeshift camp seems all but abandoned. The Fianna kinfolk is perched closer to the stream not far off, chewing quietly on a piece of deer jerky, oddly enough. Bridget sits with her food in one hand and a hunting knife in the other, apparently just watching the night. The Fianna kin wears a vintage army surplus jacket over various layers, jeans and hiking boots.

A wolf without a pack makes for a spirit of longing. This kin is camped far from civilization, well situated off the main paths, without apparent company, kin or not. This isn't the first or last time she's been caught completely solitary, not the first time someone might mistake her "recklessness" for a death wish.

[Gwen Sullivan] "We judge those who break our laws..."

In essence, she was merely repeating what he said, but this was stated with a flavor of musing, of thinking aloud. She seemed to be contemplating what that meant exactly, or she was tasting it in her mouth along with the blood of the deer, getting used to it, perhaps working up to another statement, another conclusion.

The last would prove to be the most accurate. They walked to a stream he remembered that Gwen had no idea of, and she twitched her ears back and forth, paying close and careful mind to their surroundings, something that she's always been doing and now seemed more important, knowing that the world had monsters in the shadows. "Then we need to fight to enforce it as well. Law is nothing without discipline, punishment to the people who disregard it."

Up ahead came the strong scent of peppered jerky, and a person underneath it, dust from an old and well-traveled jacket. She slowed, and rumbled quietly with suspicion.

[Fire Claws] "Yes we are the judges, arbitrators, mediators. We dole out the punishment when needed, learn rites to fulfill them. We...

When he crosses into the open area near the stream a smell comes over him, a familiar scent that he should not be around, especially after his meeting with the lone Fianna in the city. He pondered turning and walking away. Territory of another. However he continued to smell the air, sniffing at what should be and he was lost. There was nothing else, a lone kin. Alone deep in the woods.

He padded into the water as the smell of jerky and the lone kin seemed to swirl about the air. Eyes glow in the darkness against the slivers of light cast down from the stars above. Dipping his head slowly into the water as he drinks up some cool, refreshments. Letting it wash away some of the blood from his fur. He continues to huff and howl and bark as Gwen repeats what he says.

"We have many ways to do so, to hold justice, ensure we stay strong. We oversee challenges when they come up. Fair and even. We protect not just Gaia, but the other garou as well, from themselves."

[Gwen Sullivan] Gwen thought about what Fire Claws had said carefully. She was a good listener, and that didn't just mean that she shut up when someone else was talking. It meant she paid attention to the words and worked to understand them. She was quiet still when they came across the stream, pausing at the bank even while the large dominant male moved forward to drink.

The tawny female with the pale face and paws lingered back, head high and ears standing tall. Her nostrils flared, her amber-toned eyes cut across the length of the stream, hunting for a body, a face, a figure to match to the smells she was getting, strong enough to even cut through the blood on her face. A short period of time passed before she shook out her mane and moved down to the water to join the Foresti, taking a drink and whuffing to him.

"This 'breeding' thing... I smell it again, whoever's nearby has it. It's troublesome. Distracting. Do we leave it alone?"

[Fire Claws] He can smell the breeding in the air, it was quite potent. And just like Gwen questioned it could muddle the mind if allowed. But he focused his thoughts, trying to push out the feeling that was just hovering over the surface. Shaking his head back and forth slightly, he splashed water from the stream and shook off some moisture from his fur.
"Breeding is important. It reminds us of great heroes and who they bore. Strong wolves leave an imprint on their cubs and reminds of all of how great we can be. We can see it on those who are more 'pure.' Their blood sings to us. We should not ignore the feeling breeding leaves on us. Those very well bred are able to bear pups who are true much easier than those without.

[Gwen Sullivan] "Yeah...", and there's hesitancy in her now, even as she dips to wash the blood from her mouth and chest, as she stands and shakes the water free. Her head turned to look upstream, where Bridget was out of sight, but very far from out of mind. "But what good is breeding to me if they're all girls."

There's a huff, a sigh that was best described as burdened. "Linus had said that the Kin need protecting. Should we not see this one someplace safe? She's out here alone, in the dark where no one can hear her call out."

[Fire Claws] "There are some male kin who have breeding around Chicago, I think. Besides you are far from even thinking of claiming a mate, pup. Your still far from your Rite of Passage."

He pads along the edge of the stream now, his eyes moving up the flow of water to the source of the scent. Shaking out his mane once more to fully expounge the wetness from his muzzle. It may not be winter just yet, but even a wolf could catch hypothermia if they let water soak down their fur and the chill came on quickly.

"Linus? Well yes kin, especially pure bred ones can be easier targets for the wyrm. The unnamed can sense the purity just as well as we can. And they gain their kin by abducting those that are lost or not protected properly. I have spoke to Tongue~Twister yuf about her kin. Seems she has yet to take my council. Another duty of our moon, we council others on what they should or shouldn't do."

[Gwen Sullivan] Up out from the stream, Fire Claws led them to walk along the edge of it, and Gwen followed faithfully enough. He knew the forest, this was his element. If they were cutting through back streets in the Cabrini, she would be more comfortable if she was walking ahead, directing where they were to go. But then again, she wasn't too sure of their destination either. She presumed it was the Kinfolk, the scent of jerky and breeding was getting stronger, but she wasn't one to make assumptions either.

"A mate? No. My plate is full enough."
But loneliness still tempered itself within her. It was a difficult thing to shake.

"So we are judges, punishers, councilors, peacemakers and referees. This sounds so much more complex than the position of, say, a Full Moon."

[Fire Claws] "Good, because the smell of your monkey friend still lingered on you. And soon enough you will have to cut that away. Normal monkeys cannot take being in our presence for too long."

His steps were sure and steady as powerful paws moved along the uneven ground around the stream. Mud and rocks made the terrain slippery and only strong, stable movement would not cast the wolf into the dirt or water. He moved up towards the camp that the kin was sleeping at. Sniffing around to see if anything else was about besides the kin and the pair of wolves.

"Yes our duty is complex, but do not put down the other duties. Yes modi are fighters, but they are more than that. They are expected to be alphas and war councilors, battle planners."

[Gwen Sullivan] He made a comment about her 'monkey friend', and the female wolf's head ducked a little to watch the ground when her paws slipped on loose rock, catching her balance, planning her steps for the next few yards before she looked back up to Fire Claws, trotted along after him to the edge of the Kinfolk's camp. He sniffed about, and she hung back to listen, to scan the surrounding area rather than focus on the camp itself.

"Vince isn't a romantic interest. Never was, never will be. He's too anxious around me, I know that wouldn't work even if I wanted it to." She slipped a dozen yards or so away from him, sniffed at the air away from the camp, listened to the chirp of bugs. "So all roles are multi-faceted, but we're all expected to fight."

She sneezed, pawed at her snout, then turned back to Fire Claws, standing with her flank to him, head turned to face him, tail swishing idly behind. "I need to know to fight, then."

[Fire Claws] "Romance? Hmm silly monkey. He is male, you female simple enough to mate. But he is unsuited anyway. It will grow worse over time, if your lucky. The fire that fuels our soul it will become more powerful. Most monkeys can stand it when we are around, but as it grows the amount of people who can be near us shrinks."

He sniffs around the ground here and there, taking in the smell of the feral born kin. She did not hid her tracks at all, anyone could find her if they looked hard enough. But the smell of wyrm or fallen ones were not apparent. He cuffed at the makeshift leanto and the camp. Ideas coming at him from old experiences.

"There are some who do not believe it is the way. Misguided tree huggers who lost the way long ago. One cannot respect those that cower and hide behind words when they let their brethen die in service to Gaia. The rest of us know better. It is natural, to fight against that which wants nothing but pain and suffering."

[Gwen Sullivan] The human in her tried to make an expression that would've made perfect sense on a human face, but looked aggressive, misplaced and strange on a wolf. Instead of wrinkling a human nose in distaste she crinkled up her snout and wound up showing her front teeth in doing so. It felt strange to wear, just as odd as it looked, so she relaxed it away almost as soon as it manifested, licking her nose and chops before pacing a few yards one way, then turning about to go the other direction as well. This body was full of stamina and strength, and she didn't feel comfortable just standing still on these legs.

"Unsuited or not, there's no place for a baby."

She couldn't imagine there being one now, five years from now, or even fifteen years out. How the hell was a Garou supposed to raise a child when they couldn't even hold down a job? Sure, that was what Kinfolk were for, but she wondered if that was why there were so many female Kinfolk and she'd only met one male-- nature decided it was easier for the female to be the Kin... or something. It was rough thinking of the science and philosophy of that, so she let it fall from her mind, stifled it back to puzzle over later.

Back to fighting: "The different Tribes have different philosophies. Some are these tree huggers you speak of, others are worried about politics and thrones... I need to pick one, but the agendas of the tribes make it difficult. It seems none come without fault and ill reputations."

[Fire Claws] He stopped a little way from the little pseudo-camp that the fianna kin had created, marking up a tree with his urine to ensure any that wish to bother her that she is not so alone in the woods. And if anyone wanted to mess with the feral looking kin, well there would be hell to pay. More for the fact he would love a chance to kill some more wyrm creatures.

He watched the young pup as she sneered and seemingly growled at him. He sneered back, baring his teeth when she did so. He already proven that she was not able to take him on, she was a freshly changed pup, unsure of her skills. He was a skilled veteran of the war among a tribe known as warriors. Strength was all he knew. However when she finally put her teeth back, he stopped growling.

"Do not think you can be a Silver Fang, you have no breeding and Falcon will not accept you. Nor will the talons or the striders for other reasons you do not have. Stargazers are no longer worthy to be called a tribe since they have gone into hiding behind the beast courts. But do not think you will have the choice for many. Only my Jarl can tell if you are worthy, or great Fernis himself."

He moved up against her, rubbing his pelt against her own as she seemed to become uncomfortable with just standing around and waiting. He watched her body start to twitch, looking for a chance to run or burn up her energy. Monkeys did not know how to control the form as well as he did.

[Gwen Sullivan] He'd growled and bared his teeth in answer to her, she'd realized that he was mirroring her, responding to her mistake between human and wolf expressions when his growling quieted after she'd corrected her mistake. Still, she'd tensed because of this. Their fight hadn't been forgotten, the feeling of cold creeping up her limbs and her heart slowing sluggish in her chest was still relatively vivid in her mind-- and that's saying something, considering that every memory for her was bright and perfect, photographic and unwavering. She whuffed and ducked her head, a short sort of apology for the mistake. She was learning, she was working on mastering her new bodies.

The tribes were explained a little better (sort of). She knew there were some that she could not get into on account of birth, or for things that she lacked that she didn't quite know but she trusted Fire Claws to recognize for her. She could not be a Silver Fang, or a Talon (what's that? they weren't mentioned before), or a Silent Strider. She was fine with all of these, the royal burden of insanity and a throne wasn't her style, and she hated loneliness enough as it was, how bad would it be out on the road, always moving, always without a home?

He mentioned the Jarl, and her ears lifted some with recognition of the word. He came closer, walked past to scrub his pelt to hers, meshing mottled grays-browns and whites against lighter tones of tawny. She shifted away initially, then toward him, making a low, quiet sound that was caught between questioning and thanks for gestures she didn't understand. The wolf-mind was difficult to sit comfortably within, but if she were to learn from a wolf she would have to be comfortable here, in this body, in this lifestyle.

Words were an easy distraction for her, though. "Jarl. Kora. I have met her, and Roman. They are good people, kind to me."

[Fire Claws] "Yes, jarl is the Get alpha. The Jarl is the leader of the tribe, in many Septs the leader of the Sept as well. Kora is strong and smart. A good leader. She has offered me hospitality. She is kind and strong."

He was not sure how to explain the rest of the tribes to her, he wasn't a fianna or a fury. He didn't ascribe to the urrha and what their lives were based on within the city. He knew what the Get were about, that was all. He could explain their history and what they respected, the strength they enjoyed and the fight they brought to the wyrm. He one day expected himself to find himself a good death as any good Get should find. But for now, he would teach her what she needed to know. About the war and about being a Forseti first. That was what he would speak of now.

"Concentrate on learning to be a philodox first. The tribal spirit who finds you worthy will accept you."