Good morning.
Saturday, 16 February 2013 09:20![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jeremiah_garou16 February, 2013
The moon is in the waxing Half (Philodox) Moon phase (40% full).
Inside, Jeremiah climbs the stairs up from the basement, slowly navigating the first floor with no particular purpose yet. The man is still in glabro, and his concession to being indoors is removing his hat and gloves, but not the ever-present large outer coat.
The library is a place that Whisper comes semi-often, to visit her packmate Wrong Way. So it is that she has come today, left her usual offering of tinned catfood for the rodents, and has ensconced herself in an alcove, curled up on a large and battered chair with a book. Bliss.
There's a sense that Jeremiah's trying not to disturb anyone or anything as he walks amongst the books. He pauses when he sees Whisper, teeth tugging at his lower lip, and offers a nod to her before continuing, as well as a low, "G'morning."
Eyes raise from the book. Whisper studies the Gnawer at length; if there is recognition of his face, she doesn't show it. "Good morning." She makes no effort to hide her deformed tongue, here where only Garou and Kin go, and sets her book down on her lap with one page marked by a strip of dirty ribbon.
Jeremiah raises one hand to rub at his forehead. "Bullfrog, Lives-On. Cliath ahroun," he introduces himself. The text messages with such, that the former Shadow Lord had renounced, had found a new family, were a long time ago now. "Lefty's lettin' me sleep here 'til I can talk to Elliot-rhya."
"Whisper, called Tiny-Needle-Spears-The-Heart. Fostern Uktena, born of the howling moon to Garou." The Galliard gives her greeting quietly as always. "This is Lefty's territory, and thus her right."
The ahroun nods, respectful, quiet, and digs through his pockets until he comes out with a battered pack of cigarettes, equally battered lighter. Moving over slightly, Jeremiah offers them to Whisper first, before taking one out for himself. "Pleased to meet you." Which is followed by a bit of an odd expression, the words ringing… less than perfectly, though there's nothing disgenuine about them, and the young man shakes his head, quite evidently to himself.
"Thank you." That is Whisper's reply, and then her gaze moves down to her book, re-opening at the page she'd been at, and resuming her study.
Jeremiah clicks the lighter until it lights the cigarette, and watches Whisper for several long moments after she's turned back to her book. A moment longer, he offers. "It's good to see you. I'm glad you're doin' well," then nods again, making his way further into the library to leave the Uktena to her reading in peace.
There is a polite nod from the Fostern, but clearly she is reading. Just reading.
The moon is in the waxing Half (Philodox) Moon phase (40% full).
Inside, Jeremiah climbs the stairs up from the basement, slowly navigating the first floor with no particular purpose yet. The man is still in glabro, and his concession to being indoors is removing his hat and gloves, but not the ever-present large outer coat.
The library is a place that Whisper comes semi-often, to visit her packmate Wrong Way. So it is that she has come today, left her usual offering of tinned catfood for the rodents, and has ensconced herself in an alcove, curled up on a large and battered chair with a book. Bliss.
There's a sense that Jeremiah's trying not to disturb anyone or anything as he walks amongst the books. He pauses when he sees Whisper, teeth tugging at his lower lip, and offers a nod to her before continuing, as well as a low, "G'morning."
Eyes raise from the book. Whisper studies the Gnawer at length; if there is recognition of his face, she doesn't show it. "Good morning." She makes no effort to hide her deformed tongue, here where only Garou and Kin go, and sets her book down on her lap with one page marked by a strip of dirty ribbon.
Jeremiah raises one hand to rub at his forehead. "Bullfrog, Lives-On. Cliath ahroun," he introduces himself. The text messages with such, that the former Shadow Lord had renounced, had found a new family, were a long time ago now. "Lefty's lettin' me sleep here 'til I can talk to Elliot-rhya."
"Whisper, called Tiny-Needle-Spears-The-Heart. Fostern Uktena, born of the howling moon to Garou." The Galliard gives her greeting quietly as always. "This is Lefty's territory, and thus her right."
The ahroun nods, respectful, quiet, and digs through his pockets until he comes out with a battered pack of cigarettes, equally battered lighter. Moving over slightly, Jeremiah offers them to Whisper first, before taking one out for himself. "Pleased to meet you." Which is followed by a bit of an odd expression, the words ringing… less than perfectly, though there's nothing disgenuine about them, and the young man shakes his head, quite evidently to himself.
"Thank you." That is Whisper's reply, and then her gaze moves down to her book, re-opening at the page she'd been at, and resuming her study.
Jeremiah clicks the lighter until it lights the cigarette, and watches Whisper for several long moments after she's turned back to her book. A moment longer, he offers. "It's good to see you. I'm glad you're doin' well," then nods again, making his way further into the library to leave the Uktena to her reading in peace.
There is a polite nod from the Fostern, but clearly she is reading. Just reading.