"It's called being alive."

Bawn: Central Forest(#2876RA)
The forest is dark and quiet. No, not quiet. Listening. The ancient firs rear up all around, branches interwoven in a dense roof of dark green. Fallen needles lie in a thick carpet on the ground, heaped up around the drifts of undergrowth clinging to the scarce patches of light reaching the forest floor. Every sound seems muffled, and the sharp scent of pine hangs in the air like the clouds of midges that swarm ceaselessly beneath the branches. Even the many deer who roam here seem to step more quietly than usual, and the songbirds seldom sing.
The forest spreads out around you in all directions.

Kevin comes striding out from the direction of the caern, going at quite a speed and taking long strides, as though he's either trying to get somewhere in a hurry, or has excess energy to burn.

Emma is on the other hand, strolling along quite casually, though in deep thought. Hands sunken into her pockets as she moves.

Kevin isn't, it seems, in too much of a hurry to pause and greet Emma. He comes to a stop, almost skidding on the wet grass. "Emma," he calls out. "Any news yet on you-know-what?"

She startles, looking up and over to the other, "Huh? Oh." She lifts a shoulder and nods, "This Sunday we're going to go have a peek. You're coming right?"

"I am so there," Kevin responds simply. "Before the main event," he then goes on, "Basil and I are planning to try and quickly get a pack together. It'll help our chances in the big fight, and if we all come out of it alive, then it'll be a good thing for the future as well."

Emma raises a brow. "Who do you plan on seeking for this pack?" Which seems to be a round about way of questioning his current choice.

Kevin is silent a moment as though weighing up how Emma will respond to his reply. "Morgan," he eventually says. "Masao. Perhaps others, if they don't think it beneath them to have packmates like us."

Emma gives a simple nod, "Who would be leading this pack, and what of Requiem?" She narrows her gaze harder and then smirks, "I have a packmate like you."

Kevin laughs reflexively. "There's nobody like me!" he insists. "Requiem is... history. I hear Dillen went and told Snaekolfr that it was all over, and the two of them got into a tremendous fight. Who's alpha of the new pack depends on who's in it, I guess. It won't be me, that's certain."

"I mean, I have a packmate who has a list full of his own crimes." She shakes her head and looks to the other, "What kind of pack are you after? Where are you thinking of territory?"

"With Basil and me, it's a pretty fair bet it'll be city based," Kevin says. "There's too much of St Claire that isn't getting any sort of regular patrol... and that's no slur on Havoc," he hastens to add. "No one pack, even yours, could keep a city that size clean. It might be a possibility that we could claim territory adjoining yours, though, so the two packs can touch base and exchange news as required... and warn each other if something's spreading from one area into the other, yeah?" he suggests. "As for our purpose, we intend to be a healing pack, if a suitable totem will have us."

Emma gives a nod. "You're right, the city does need more help. Though I'm not sure how many of us will be left after our current round of spring cleaning." She grins a little, "What's got you running like a madman out here anyway?"

"Blame your tribemate the Ritemaster," Kevin says. "I came all the way back here from the city to try and run down someone with the Totem Rite. Managed to find Gunnar to ask him if he knew anyone, and turns out he has it himself and will run it for us without demanding that we purge our guilt by scourging ourselves for hours or dropping big rocks on each other or anything fearsome like you expect from him."

Emma laughs aloud at this. "Yeah, Gunnar's a reasonable guy. More or less." Her gaze narrows a bit, "So that doesn't answer the question why you're running your ass off."

"It's called feeling energetic," Kevin says with a raised eyebrow. "Being full of enthusiasm again after a month spent mostly sunk in gloom and confined to one rotten little clearing. It's called being alive." He spins round for a moment, arms outstretched, then comes to a halt again and gives Emma a wide grin. The ragabash does indeed seem quite full of the pleasures of life. "It's spring. Things are growing. Gaia is renewed. The days are long. Enjoy them."

Emma flips her eyes upward. "Yeah.. there's that I suppose. Sometimes really envy you Ragabash' ya know." She lets out a heavy sigh and glances to the bawn, green and budding. "Well I'm glad you got some of your spunk back."

Kevin snorts with barely-suppressed amusement at that. "Oh jeez, Emma. Was that deliberate?" he grins. "Yeah, I'm glad too. So I screwed up, hey, it happens. I'm still here, and I'm not going to curl up and die of guilt. That does nobody any good, right?"

The innuendo seems to be unintentional as Emma gives him a curious, baffled look. "Huh?" She shakes her head, "Yeah, guilt does little good for anyone." The Get seems horrible distracted, not her usual self. She almost seems.. more Signe-ish.

Kevin forces himself to stop grinning. "Sorry. Probably a Brit-ism," he excuses himself. "Okay... I want to get back to St Claire. Any messages for city garou while I'm going? Where should I show up on Sunday?"

Emma just sort of spaces out for a minute. "Oh, at the brownstone. In the morning. And no, no messages. Tell Basil to come if he wants."