How do you solve a problem like Linnea? [Ferdinand]

[Ferdinand Corozon Jr.] Ferdinand had to discuss several several issues with Linnea before he could even consider continuing with what was designed as his assignment from his soon to be alpha.

And after the punishment handed out at the Moot was assigned, it was more often then not almost assured that he would find her within the depth of the Caern. And after asking of the guardians of her whereabouts he cotinues deeper until Linnea can be discovered.

[Linnea Bartlett] Ferdinand finds Linnea easily enough, somewhere in the depths of the dusty and now too infrequently used records room, the domain of Swallows the Sun. Much as she likes to read, the work is dreadfully dull. Lennox could have sentenced her to listen to the voices in her head and heart; instead, she is at the mercy of cramped scripts and paper that threatens to turn to ash in her impatient fingers.

The door opens, and the teenager - faint circles under her eyes, the prescient suggestion of exhaustion - looks up from her mindnumbing work eagerly, a fillip of a smile twisting across her mouth. "Ferdinand!" She is gateful for the reprieve.

[Ferdinand Corozon Jr.] He looks around the room that holds the tombs of the Sept, he has never these many books over the working of teh Garou. The Nation has had texts before, but it was mostly a oral tradition.
"Well it seems that you are hard at work, Linnea. Would you care for some assistance?"

[Linnea Bartlett] "I'm bored outta my mind," the teenager confesses, working diligently to cross her eyes. "And I know all this stuff. If I don't know it, they know it." Her frustration a quiet edge to her half-whispered words. "Carmen's not even here, so I think I'm done. Soon anyway. Were you - " she pauses, her brow drawing delicately together, and rises, carefully closing the book open before her. "Were you looking for me?"

[Ferdinand Corozon Jr.] "Yes I have been. It is some issues over pack duties... moreso over the duties to be assigned to Giselle. She is quite an interesting young lady."

However Giselle was older than both of them, but it was still polite to refer to her as a youn lady.

"I have some ideas over what we can have her do, if she is willing."

[Linnea Bartlett] "That's good. I don't have any idea what she can do," the young soon-to-be Alpha confesses, her voice shaded with frustration. "I mean, she doesn't know what she can do - I bet she doesn't wanna clean up after us once we are living together, and that wouldn't even be fair, and I can't - " Her nostrils flare, briefly.

She's stopped, hand on the cover of the book she had been studying, but then she scoops up the book and returns it to its place on the shelves. "What - what were your ideas?" she continues, dusting her hands off on the thighs of her jeans - the dedicated ones, now absolutely stiff and discolored with dried blood - as she walks back toward him, with that long-legged stride.

[Ferdinand Corozon Jr.] He looks at her her, those sleep deprived eyes, the dried blood on her clothes, her unfinished youth. It was one of a few ideas. But it was definately a prime example.

"She is quite a demur and well-refined woman. Such an exotic look and well defined sense of self. It is quite evident in her breeding and such."

He was not being exactly straight with her at the moment, trying to find a proper way of saying it.

"I beliebe you should work with her to be... become as refined of a lady as she is."

[Linnea Bartlett] "Uhm," Linnea pauses, twisting her shoulders back in Ferdinand's direction. Each one of his observations is correct. She is dressed in the most casual clothing, her dedicated clothing, the jeans deeply bloodstained, the boots dark with blood - and perhaps worse, the thermal undershirt (her usual tee is nowhere in evidence). Her pale hair is pulled back from her face into a harsh and unflattering French braid, and her young features briefly twist with puzzlement.

Linnea flails out a shrug and glances down at herself, her practical clothes, her skinny frame. "I - I don't think I could teach her to be much of a refined lady? I mean she kinda already is?" The girl pauses, her mouth pressed together, musing. " - maybe I could show her how to fire a gun? That might be - " speculating as she joins Ferdinand at his side. " - but I can't teach her how to be a - a I mean, I think she's doing fine on her own."

[Ferdinand Corozon Jr.] Maybe it was that his moon had grow high within the skies over Philadelphia, Luna's face shimmered in his favor tonight and it might have had him speaking weirdly. But it was more apparent that Linnea was not understanding what he was speaking of.

"I am sorry to misguide you, Linnea. However I believe that...."

He coughed a bit, trying to find a polite way of saying it properly to a fellow garou, not to mention his alpha. But the idea of a garou being sick might have caught her offguard.

"I mean to say that Giselle.... should teach you."

[Linnea Bartlett] The young woman turns sharply and stares at Ferdinand, her eyes wide and bright in the dim light. She just... stands there, her arms empty, her hands open, her cheeks suddenly burning with furious color, which stands out starkly against her the delicate pallor of her skin, obliterates the faint outlines of at least 1/2 of her wealth of freckles.

"I - " her mouth opens again, but nothing comes out and she looks suddenly straight down at her feet. There's blood on her shoes, too, the toes of her hiking boots, and a long dark acid stain splashing up the rugged leather. Her mouth closes, and so does her expression. Her generous, open mouth is set into a narrow line. She doesn't glance back at Ferdinand; instead, she shoves her fists into her front pockets and stares at the floor, shoulders wrenched with tension. "I'm not going to be pretty like her. I can't - I mean - " she shoots him a narrow sliver of a sidelong glance, her eyes shining briefly like an animal's, her chin setting into a sullen line as she summons up one of the greatest compliments and worst criticisms she can think of, in one. "You sound like my mom."

[Ferdinand Corozon Jr.] He watches the younger lady seem to ignite and it almsot has him move back, worried of what she might do. That expression painted across her face seemed to exact a bit of remorse from him. The academy did not frown upon the kinfolk and cubs intermingling, but it was not smiled upon either. Maybe this touched deep seated feelings. But that was not what he desired.

"Demur and refined do not necessary equate to looks alone, even though she is quite a stunning woman. No, one of refined stature is well-tempered, is able to withold there feelings no matter how pressed they are, as Giselle had that night. No, you unfortunately itch for battle, get worked up easily and are quick to temper. I know that as ahroun it is harder than most, however you must control that fire, lest it burns brighter and consumes all around you. Even your packmates."

[Linnea Bartlett] Her cheeks burn hotter as Ferdinand goes on about Giselle's refinement and polish, her even temper, her beauty. Her tense shoulder bunch closer to her neck, and the sullen pout into which her mouth has morphed stiffens into a vague grimace. She doesn't glance up at her Philodox, and her posture is almost wholly defensive, arms curved inward to protect the most vulnerable parts of her torso, fists flexing in the blood-stiffened denim of her pockets.

Then, half-way through his speech, Linnea shoots Ferdinand a pale winging glance. Her pale brows are drawn together, her lashes half-lowered over her irises. "I know. The last part is right, I know that. I - Cassian. Slow Avalanche? You saw him at the moot? He said I have to - to find a way to stand against the waves. To - to find some way to remember myself. I - I don't think Giselle can help, but - " her body deflates as she expels a sudden rush of air. " - and, I - I don't think I need to be demur. I have to lead the war. I - but - " frustration, the fizzling half-lightning of sentient electricity, winging through the air between them. " - if you think it'll help me, I'll give it a try."

[Ferdinand Corozon Jr.] He watches the actions of the young lady, wondering how deep these scars may have cut. He did not like to talk upon such a subject, however this needed to be said. It was important that she knew it.

"Yes, well you would be quite suprised over some kinfolk. They must give up so much to be part of both our world, the Garou world and the Mortal one. It is quite hard and they must balance a tight rope between then. They must force down so much and hold back so much. She will be able to teach you."

He listened to her words, to be a leader in a war for life, against the wrym. I will teach you to lead, dear sister, but I cannot teach you to fight on all the battlefields.

"If only the war was fought with claws and teeth, then I would not suggest that you waste your time with this. However the battle is not just fought with bloody advances. It is fought in the boardrooms of businesses, on the streets of poor neighborhoods, even within our own hearts and minds. We are fighting a billion front war and we must be ever vigilant on them all. Never focus solely on one, less we fail."

[Linnea Bartlett] Linnea is silent and still for quite some time. Several seconds stretches to thirty, and thirty seconds stretches to a minute or three. The passing time is marked by the slow rhythm of her breath, the doubled beat of her heart, and the echoing of bear's snores through the network of catacombs that worm their way around the heart of the Caern.

"I never - " she begins, looking up at him at last, the glance askance, her pale eyes gleaming in the dim light. "I never thought about kinfolk like that before, Ferdinand. I just - I thought - " She leaves the words unvoiced, but the thought must surely hang there in the space where the unfinished sentence should go: she thought that they had it easy, with their homes and their jobs, with the college degrees, their cars and their mortgages, their long lives ahead of them.

Then, "I know - I know the war - I want to do everything Ferdinand, but I can't fight every battle or every front. Some of those I have to leave to others even if I want to do everything. But - " she draws in a quick breath, her narrowed shoulders relaxing into a more natural stance, her breath spilling out of her in a sighing wave. " - okay. I - I'll see what I can learn from her. I'll see what she can teach me."

[Ferdinand Corozon Jr.] He watched her reactions to his words with mark attention. It was easy for those with there breeding and upbringing to see the easy life of a kinfolk as nothing much more than breeding and easy lives. Both of there siblings were good examples of that lifestyle. But there was so much more, he was taught that much from so many countless others who petitioned him for his father's aid, spoke to him first.

"yes it is easy to think that way, most of us do. But as for her teaching you, if you believe that you wish to assign that aspect of leading eslewhere,. then whom? If they are worthy, well I am sure I can think of something else for Giselle to do, which best suits her."

[Linnea Bartlett] "You." Linnea replies, immediately, " - but that doesn't mean I can't - that doesn't mean I don't have to know - all that stuff. I won't know everything I can do until I - until I do it." She twists at the waist, stretching out her spine, internal clock ticking past the delicately moving seconds. "I - I have to go the battlefield. Work there, Ferdinand. I - we can talk about this later."

With that, she opens the door for the Philodox, and separates from him, disappearing down the dark tunnels toward the battlefield and the additional duties she has drawn for the space of the moon.