[Going to date this actually happening around the middle/end of next week due to some other scenes' timelines! Just fyi!]
Avery ChaseAvery had the land surveyed and purchased shortly after she moved to Denver and introduced herself to the garou and spirits of Forgotten Questions. That was back in late spring. It is now verging on true winter, even if some days the temperature reaches the low sixties still before snapping into sub-freezing chills, and she is finally prepared to bring others to this newest, latest domicile. It took some time, after all, to find the right architect and contractors and builders, and the right decorators, and the right landscapers. It took some revisions to the original plans when she and Javed joined each other as a pack, because she wanted it to be a place that would just as easily suit his demeanor and needs as her own. Then she wanted more trees, taller ones, and then they built a garage some distance from the house itself, almost completely out of view from the windows and breezeway that connect the two structures.
Now, months later and at the tail end of the year, Avery finds Javed and tells him that she requests the honor and pleasure of his company for an afternoon and evening, if he would like to travel south with her to -- as she puts it -- their other home. She also says, with perhaps some fluttering nervousness beneath her smile, that she would like to introduce him to someone. Ruby, of course, is more than welcome to come, since as Javed's student Avery wants her to feel comfortable going there.
--
5921 Silverthorn Run is not as remote as it could be. There are other houses and plots of land within view along the rolling foothills. They are not far north of the caern, however, and more than a few of those nearby homes are occupied by other garou and their kin. Not all; that is part of why a very large plot of land holds only a very small house, and why the landscapers brought in all those trees, all that extra foliage that was not there before. It bears the illusion of remoteness, and standing outside on the deck, one cannot hear one's neighbors. One can barely even hear passing cars, seldom as that happens.
Avery picked up Javed -- and perhaps Ruby, if she wanted to attend -- to come down here. The person she wants him to meet, she says, will be meeting them there.
--
Calden's invitation was a little less vague. She'd told him about Javed, gleefully and delightedly, as soon as they were packed, but this is the first she's really spoken of him since. Just: I want you to meet each other. Just and I want you to see the house.
--
Now she pulls up, not in the Tesla but in a white Juke identical to the one that she gave to a Shadow Lord kinswoman in Vegas. She likes it. It is not so fast nor even as luxurious as the Tesla or any of her other automobiles, but that is why she drives it out to places like the caern or on road trips. Pulling into the driveway, she looks for Calden's truck, wondering if he's beat them there or not. She's dressed in jeans that are 'skinny' but not skin-tight, a pair of grey leather boots that end just above her ankles, and a deep blue v-necked cable-knit sweater. Her hair is in a single loose braid over her shoulder, and there's a pair of rose-gold bangles on her wrist. She doesn't reach for her coat when she gets out of the car, even if it's a bit chilly.
The house is really... not much to look at. Stacked boxes. Sort of a rust-colored exterior. A bunch of windows, a deck, and a breezeway in between the two upper levels of the separate structures. On one end of the long part of the house there are stairs going down, but Avery doesn't go to that entrance, walking instead towards the deck. That is, unless Calden is waiting for them.
Javed Anubis-SightThe metis was told by Avery, back when they first agreed to be packmates, that she had a home that was in the works that they would both be able to stay at. He has not seen it yet, but Avery has always been happy to tell him about the progress and the Ahroun has happy to hear her talk of it. Not that he is dissatisfied with his living situation as it stands; while some may look at his moving from squatting location to squatting location with a wrinkled nose, Javed has found that it fits his needs nicely in the interim and he has had no complaints.
When Avery requests his company to travel and finally see the home, she receives that mild inclination of his head and a half-flicker of an acceding smile, along with the response that he would be honored. The declaration that she would like to introduce him to someone gets a little sideways cock of his head...not questioning, but intrigued. It is her undercurrent of anxiety which draws it but of course he doesn't call attention because they do not ask about those things, these Falcons. And again, he says he would be honored.
And so they drive. Or rather, Avery drives and Javed rides in the car. The metis has many skills related to travel, not motorized vehicle operation is not one of them and he would not risk one of her vehicles by giving it a try. His feet have done him fine and while he is not hesitant around cars, driving is not a skill he feels is necessary at this time.
He is watching out the windshield as they approach the grounds. He watches also when they drive there too of course; he enjoys the country side and while he doesn't drive, he does have quite the love of trips. When the building comes into view, it's humble exterior obviously does not draw his disapproval. He is not ostentatious nor does he have the need for ostentatious things. Much the contrary, he gets his hint of what may be (for him) a smile. And that's as much a sign of approval as anything. He slips out of the car, taking a moment there to breathe in the air of outside the city, and moves to follow Avery.
Calden WhiteUnlike Javed, Calden had no idea this house was in the works. He has little idea what is going on with Avery's properties, only that she seems to have entirely more of it than any person could possibly need. Not that Calden has any right to judge there. The invitation was received with surprise and delight and agreement; the address was exchanged, and the date and time was set.
Calden does not, in fact, beat them there. He is only minutes behind, though, and by serendipity pulls up as Javed and Avery are walking up to the house. He has a new truck, since the one before was totalled by something quite out of this world. The new one is, like the ones that came before, a heavy-duty Chevrolet Silverado 3500-series with a double-axle in the back. It is dark, it is robust, and it's actually quite luxurious inside: cream-colored leather upholstery and decent enough sound insulation that he could listen to his audiobooks comfortably on the ride over. The engine has the distinctive chop of diesel, and when he kills it a new hush falls over Avery's woodland home.
The door opens. Avery's gentleman caller climbs out of his truck, shutting the door behind him. He is wearing boots, of course, though these are serious working shoes: no tooling on the leather, and a heavier, blunter toe. He is wearing jeans and he is wearing a heavy shearling coat, and the only way he could look more like a cowboy is if he also had a hat. And a bandanna. And spurs. And a horse.
None of which he's brought today. Which isn't to say he might not own these things, but: at least he doesn't make a complete stereotype of himself. He smiles and waves as he approaches, looking up at the house. Some things are all about first impressions, gut reactions -- one might argue the very fact that he and Avery are Together (tm) now was based in first impressions and gut reactions -- and his impressions and reactions toward her latest house are immediate and strong and positive. He likes the simple exterior. He likes the innovative, modern-rustic styling; the ample glass and the unostentatious wood, the stacked-box shape of it, the fact that it is really two houses linked by a glassy corridor.
"I like it here," he says as he approaches Avery and her packmate, smiling. "I like the house, too. Hi," and he wraps an arm around her shoulders, kisses her on the cheek, then lets go and extends his hand to her packmate instead. "Hi," he says again, "Calden White. I guess you're Javed."
Avery ChaseThey hear the engine long before they make it to the deck, and Avery turns around when she hears the car turning into her driveway. Suddenly she tightens up, beaming, clasping her hands in front of her chest. "Oh, he's here!" she says, which is not so far off what she said when Falcon was summoned to bind her to her packmate.
Calden, really, does not look like he belongs with Avery any more than Javed does. Maybe if he showed up wearing a tuxedo and bearing flowers, with a retinue of his own servants, then it would make sense. But then, Avery hardly surrounds herself with solely Silver Fangs and their society-bred ilk. She is packed to an Army-jacket-wearing Silent Strider with one blanked-out eye and blissfully in love with a cowboy, and one of her favorite people on earth is a pink-haired, bird-like Theurge. Avery is not a misfit. Avery is not an outsider. Avery chooses, nonetheless, to surround herself with the strangest sort of people, people you would think would be beneath her.
People she is ever so honored, day after day, to call her friends.
--
Avery at least has the decorum not to bolt across the land's sloping terrain and leap into Calden's arms, but the vibration of her energy beside Javed suggests it's not far from her heart to do so. She stops walking towards the deck, and walks down instead, meeting Calden with Javed about halfway up to the house. He says, instantly, that he likes it here. He moves to wrap his arm around her and she hesitates but allows it, turns her cheek toward him as he kisses it, and then moves away. She gives Calden a Look, introducing himself like that, that's not how these things are done, really, but she lets it slide.
No, wait, she doesn't: "You have no idea how introductions are done, do you?" she says, huffily, though there's not much truth in it. She looks to Javed. "Javed, this is my very dear friend and suitor, Mr. Calden White. Calden, I'd like you to meet Javed Anubis-Sight, my packmate." Smiling, she adds: "Javed, Calden is kin to the Fianna and runs an absolutely wonderful ranch up north. Calden, Javed is an ahroun and Silent Strider who recently began instructing a cub of his auspice and tribe."
Now thoroughly pleased with herself, she clasps her hands in front of herself again and nods towards the house. "Would the two of you like a tour?"
Javed Anubis-SightJaved turns his attention when Avery does in response to the sound of the car approaching. He is neither tensed nor wary; Avery did tell him that he was going to meet someone, after all. That he doesn't know who this person is does not bother him for he has trust in his packmate, a trust deeper than any which just about any individual living or dead, on or in the planet, has.
The Philodox's pleasure at seeing the approaching truck brings a new look of curiosity to his face and he folds his hands together just under his breastbone, waiting and watching. There is, of course, a look of appraisal when Calden gets out of his truck. Despite only having a single functional eye (at least, functional in the way most people would understand), he has learned to be good at making quick assessments both tactical and otherwise. He doesn't always understand some of humanity's ways, and thus the ways of people in the Nation that emulate them. But he's always working on it.
His expression remains calm and curious when Calden slips his arm around Avery, kisses her cheek. It clearly makes immediate insinuations about their relationship to each other, but Javed has learned not to rely on assumptions unless he has to (and here and now is not a time, he knows, when he will have to). So he merely waits calmly, watching the two, and then focusing on Calden when he puts his hand out.
There is a slight pause there, because he has a very good idea that Avery will not leave introductions left at the wayside. And of course, she does not. She introduces them both and Javed reaches out, takes the offered hand with his own. His other hand comes forth and rests over both clasped appendages and he inclines his head and shoulders slightly in greeting.
"Mister White. I am most honored to make your acquaintance." It can't be said as the most pleasant of greetings, but Javed doesn't do warm as a rule. It is instead deeply respectful.
The handshake passes and he lets go, looking to Avery with a nod. "I would like that very much indeed."
Calden White"I know exactly how introductions are done," Calden replies, "at least amongst the mighty tribe of Stag: by a roaring fire, over whisky, and preferably after someone's eye has been properly blackened. Since we have no fire, no scotch and no black eyes in sight, I suppose we'll have to settle for your version."
And he smiles at Javed, broadly, taking the Ahroun's hand. "Javed Anubis-Sight. I've heard excellent things about you. It's a pleasure."
Their respective greetings differ a little: from Calden, a firm, thoroughly American handshake. From Javed, something a little more unusual. Less shaking, more clasping. When their hands separate, Calden turns toward his very dear friend and suit-ee, that smile of his irrepressibly and unmistakably affectionate.
"I think you might never forgive me if I said no," he says, a certain spark in his eye, "so yes. I would love a tour."
Avery ChaseAvery does not mention to Javed so much as a word about the fact that her suitor is of another tribe. Perhaps, modern and progressive as she is, she still thinks nothing of the Silver Fangs taking their lovers from among the best of what their loyal tribes have to offer. Perhaps, modern and progressive as she is, she would tear out someone's throat if they suggested that kin are territory to be argued over. She doesn't speak of it, and Javed does not ask, even though he can smell the kinsman's blood as soon as he sees him.
Calden, for his part, can likely see instantly the appeal a garou like Javed has for Avery. His reserved demeanor, his manners, his steady calm, even the lack of immediate warmth. Calden, who has seen Avery descend into madness, seen how vulnerable she can be, would know right away why Avery would not be turned off by a packmate who errs on the side of stoic and polite, and in fact would be grateful for it.
Avery just says pff! to Calden's ideas of proper introductions, waving a hand at him. She starts to head up the land to the house, coming at it from roughly the east side. The stairs at the end of the long arm point south, but she goes to the deck instead, entering the other side. They find themselves in a cozy sitting room, with two warm leather couches and a low coffee table. There is a built-in bar there, and the doors to the deck let in western light. There are curtains that can be pulled across that almost total wall of glass, but they are open now. There is a bit of a mountain view there, though probably better upstairs.
"This room," Avery is saying, holding the door for two of her favorite gentlemen, "is perhaps best compared to a parlor, for the greeting of guests and general entrances. The bar," she says, indicating it against the wall, "would be, I think, a wonderful spot for the collection of trophies and storage for talens and talen-creation materials, with perhaps a few refreshments." She looks at Calden. "Javed does not partake in alcohol, so even if others are imbibing scotch, any black eyes he gives or receives will be given or received in sobriety."
Smiling, she strolls through the little hallway, indicating the stairs they'll ascend in a few moments. The bathroom on their left is simple, its tiling steel grey and white and clear with accents of pale blue. It receives sunlight from a high window, and the shower, though just a stall, is roomy.
"And this," Avery says, showing them past the bathroom to the bedroom at the southern tip of the house's long arm, "is Javed's room."
Javed's room is very, very plain. The walls are a subdued color. The bed is queen-sized and the dove-grey duvet thick and warm. There is a desk against the wall with a single chair, and several draws built-in, the desk's surface an extension of a low chest of drawers. One entire wall of the room is taken up by broad glass doors going down a small set of stairs to a little unfinished courtyard: the ground is a bit clearer, the grass tamped down, a couple of fallen logs off to the side. Of course there are curtains to shade that room, to give privacy and darkness, and the doors are a bit recessed, giving Javed a small porch atop those stairs and giving the room some shade as well.
"We did not decorate, really," Avery says, as they glance around. "I wanted you to feel free to add any personal touches or lack thereof that you might like. The southern sun is diffused a bit by the trees, but it will be one of the warmer spots in the house, I think. The exterior was planned with flagstones and seating and perhaps a fountain, but I thought you might like to use the ground as a training space. It's very hidden from the road; a car would have to enter the driveway to have a view, and you would have ample time to hear and change forms if necessary."
She smiles. "I do hope you like it," she says quietly, "but please tell me if there is anything you would like added or taken away, changed or improved upon. It will be done. I know you may not spend most of your time here, especially with the work to be done at Cold Crescent, but it is my dear hope that you will see this as... a den. It is our territory."
Javed Anubis-SightAvery does not mention Calden's Fianna lineage and, though Calden brings it up himself, Javed neither asks of gives any indication that he has an opinion on what it should be. There are many reasons for this, but utmost among them is one simple, overriding one: he meticulously does not insert his opinions on mating situations. That is not his place as a metis; it is up to others to make that judgment call and of all people, it is Avery's opinion which is foremost to him. She chooses who she wishes and she need never fear that, should any situation somehow come up, he would have her back.
He lets her guide them along, allowing Calden to go first and then following behind. He is as observant as a one-eyed man can be, using that single orb to take in as much as he can while they move along. He will have more opportunity to take in further details after the fact; unlike people's faces, he can commit the details of these buildings to memory and he will surely do so soon enough.
He nods a little bit at Avery's assessment of the rooms as they make their way through. A brief tilt of his head is given to Calden at the mention by the Silver Fang that he obstains from drinking. "I find that they mean all the more when delivered of a clear mind." It's a touch of humor, though said in his deadpan tone so it could be difficult to tell how serious he is for someone like Calden who just met him.
He slips inside the bedroom Avery has designated as his, looking about with his hands at his sides. He pauses there, closes his eyes, takes a deep breath inward. After a moment, he opens it and nods to Avery. "It is exactly what I would require." He gives her one of those rare smiles; she even considered the fact that he is used to warmer climates, and it is deeply appreciated. "I am sure at some point I will add my own touches, but at the moment it has everything that I could possibly require."
He folds his hands again, bowing his head to his packmate. "Thank you. As always, you do me a great honor."
Calden WhiteCalden is a son of Stag. It is unmistakable, carved into his bones. Though the purity of his blood is middling at best, the scent of that primal, potent totem lingers about him. Gives him that touch of russet in his hair; that touch of green in his eyes.
For all that, though, it appears his comment about brawls and booze was a tongue-in-cheek nod to the stereotype, nothing more. He doesn't look shocked or offended to learn that Javed doesn't drink. "There's something to be said for being pleasantly fuzzy-minded," he says, "but it's usually best to err on the side of sobriety."
They move into the house. Avery shows them the space that serves as a parlor; the bar that Calden makes a mental note to donate a few bottles to. Then Javed's room, as spare and spartan as the man himself. Calden, his hands laced behind his back, looks a touch wistful. Must be nice, he thinks, to live in such close quarters with those you are closest to. He can't remember the last time his brothers were all under one roof together. His mother is ten years in the grave. And his father -- well; their relationship is strained at best, their love shot through with tension.
And Avery. Not so long ago they had a conversation about distances; the time they did or didn't have. As she is explaining to Javed that they could decorate as they liked, he could use the outside space to train, this is our territory, Calden is rather ashamed to feel something almost like a pang of envy. To cover it, he shifts his stance, slips his hands into his pockets, angles his head toward the stairs.
"And upstairs?"
Lola HawkesOver a shared lunch of a soup thermos and sandwiches with a red-haired Skald yesterday, Lola was informed that the two-man pack that was made of the local Ahroun Silent Strider and Philodox Silver Fang had claimed turf not too far from here. A house up north from Roxborough, along the mountain bench. They'd mused back and forth a little-- Eddie didn't have much information and Lola was curious why a Garou so dedicated to keeping the Spire Sept up and running would claim turf so far away from it. So she pulled what information she could (he didn't know why they were there but he had an address-- because of fucking course he did), laid a few friendly slap-punches in a back-and-forth manner with the Get of Fenris, then parted from him to continue her own personal patrols while he returned to his duties at the Caern.
The sun was working its way rapidly west across the southern end of the sky-- still bright enough to light the land, but skirting closer to the tops of mountains none the less. Therefore, no headlights were needed, so they didn't cut through windows and announce her approach. That's fine, though, it was quiet out here, and tires crunching on driveway would do it. If not that, the house that she pulled up to had windows plenty, so the big rusty white truck that bounced along on poor suspension would easily be spied.
The woman behind the wheel was dark of skin and hair both, and frown lines were still smoothing from her forehead. She'd missed the driveway and had to turn around, and while she'd been driving this truck since her license became valid it was still a pain in the ass to turn the beast around. There was no such thing as a 'U' turn, only the five-point turn that she managed to make on a thankfully clear road before doubling back, finding the driveway this time, and pulling on in.
The woman that steps out is dressed in a tan canvas jacket, much like those that construction workers or ranch hands will wear while working, zipped up to her throat. She had a gray beanie cap on her head, and her jeans were tucked into calf-height brown boots that were scuffed at the toes and worn at the heels. She glanced about, at the trees and the property that surrounded, before surveying the front of the house and approaching.
At the front door she'll hunt for a doorbell and ring it if she finds it. If not, a solid rapping of knuckles on the front door will suffice.
Avery ChaseAvery can only grin at Javed's joke -- deadpan as it is, as most of his humor -- about black eyes. That, if nothing else, helps hint to Calden that Javed's wit is rather dry. She hangs back at the entry to the room, Javed the first to walk inside, and beams when he breathes deep of its air, glows brighter when he says it is exactly what he would require. So formal, that, but for Javed, it's almost gushing. Avery looks like she is about to ascend to the moon on those words alone.
He bows, and she inclines her head, her smile softening. Later on, exploring the room, Javed will find clothing in the drawers: pairs of jeans and even some slacks, some with many pockets and some with few. He will find a pair of decent boots and a pair of sneakers and a pair of rather nice shoes. He will find shirts, everything from undershirts to button-downs to sweaters. He will find, in fact, that Avery pays meticulous attention to cut and size and has essentially provided him with a complete wardrobe, and that there is a range of cheap but sturdy all the way to refined. At least one of the sweaters will be cashmere, and in a deep wine color that compliments his hair and skin tone. He will find that the bathroom is outfitted with soft, dark blue towels and toiletries of every sort, including his choice of disposable, electric, straight, and safety razors, plus a mug of glycerine soap and a boar-bristle brush.
None of that matters now. They head back out of the narrow hallway, and Avery brushes against Calden as she passes, as though she sensed some pang in him... or, more likely, simply wanted the contact. She takes them up the stairs, the walls hung sparsely but thoughtfully with very large prints of some of John Fielder's photography of the state's more beautiful vistas. They are all signed, of course.
"Now, the upstairs is full of the common areas to the pack," she says, rising above the low white walls around the stairway. It's an open area, with the living room to one side and the kitchen to the other. The table is rectangular, seating six, and the living room has a fireplace and more seating, as well as a flatscreen that could be hidden behind folding panels. The kitchen's cabinets are vivid red, the surfaces white and stainless in mix. "Cooking, dining, relaxing. And this way," she goes on, heading past the kitchen towards the bridge between the structures, "is my suite."
They cross the bridge, which is open but sided by railings, and Avery is reaching for the handles to the sliding doors when all three of them hear the rumble of an engine not passing by, but coming along the little road from the main thoroughfare and into Avery's land. This place is quiet enough, protected enough by its distance from the road and its trees, that the engine itself is enough of a warning.
The change that comes over her is instant, when she hears that. She is straight-backed, turning her head hawklike towards the driveway. Calden has not seen her like this at her penthouse, nor at her family's house in Polo Club. Javed has not seen her like that except in battle: aware, alert, but there is an element of guardianship here that might not be seen elsewhere. She watches as Lola's truck comes down the driveway, parking. They can see the truck from where they stand on the bridge between the two structures, and Lola can see the little white Juke and the dark, brand-new Silverado as soon as she puts her truck in park.
Avery does not know the truck, and only vaguely knows who the woman is, but she does know who she is. She steps in front of Calden and Javed on the bridge, hands on the railing, as Lola gets out of the truck and walks a few feet from it. It is unlikely that Lola misses the three of them up there, long before she gets to the deck itself, or any of the entrances.
And from above, she calls out, very politely but not exactly warmly:
"May I help you?"
Javed Anubis-SightJaved is as observant of a man as a one-eyed individual can be, but that qualifier is a signficant limitation. And Javed is busy being enamored with his new room (because let's be honest, folks...for Javed, this is an expression of being enamored) so he does not note the wistful look on Calden's face. Although even if he did, he would not be likely to bring it to light right here and now, because that would not be appropriate in this situation. Javed and Avery are very clear about the delineations of their pack, and not pressing on each other's thoughts in undesired ways is an important part of that. Javed would extend the same courtesy to Calden, had he noticed.
Instead the kinfolk asks about the upstairs, and Javed listens, taking note. He then follows on the tour. Later he will find the clothes and he will be taken aback. Not in a bad way; far from it. But it is a deeply foreign concept to the man, who has for the whole of his existance had only one set of clothing at a time. This will take some getting used to for him. But it is not unwelcome, just unknown.
His ears perk up at the sound of that approaching vehicle, and his attention immediately shifts to Avery. It is their territory but she is more knowledgable about it at the moment, and who may be approaching. And of course, he cannot rely on his vision to give the identity of the woman who approaches. He picks up on the breeding, of course, but as always, this is no sure thing. There are other Uktena about. And so he uses Avery as a guide to go off of, and when she becomes more alert so does he, letting his packmate ask the greeting question.
Calden WhiteCalden knows how Avery is about public displays of affection, and even were she not polite about such things he would be. They were both raised to be courteous, to be respectful of others, to understand that courtesy and respect toward others were, in fact, ways to respect yourself.
So: she brushes against him. And his hand touches her back briefly. But there are no other overt gestures, no egregious displays; nothing of the sort. He heads upstairs behind Avery, beside Javed, making a bit of small talk about the weather and the traffic until they're on the second floor.
"I like the layout," he comments, meaning it -- and of course he would; his own home has its own not-quite-standard layout. "It's interesting, having the living room and the kitchen a story up from the main entrance. And those cabinets are amazing."
It's a short trip outside to get to Avery's suite. Privately, Calden thinks this might be a little impractical. It'd certainly make breakfast in bed a challenging proposition. He considers how difficult it might be to encase the entire walkway in glass, and while he's doing that
they're stepping outside
and Avery is sharpening as someone else, an unexpected fourth party, arrives. The Philodox steps before her packmates, right to the edge of the walkway to call down. Calden takes a step forward to look over the edge too, his broad shoulders relaxing as he recognizes the woman.
"Oh, it's Lola Hawkes," he says, largely for Avery's benefit. He raises a hand to wave down to the newcomer, "She's one of the Uktena kin. Her family's a bit like the Whites. Landowners and kin, been around these parts for years."
Lola HawkesAs it turns out, Lola doesn't get near enough to the front door to know if there's a doorbell there or not. Bodies are spied on a bridge that connects the house to what she would assume to be a shed or a guest suite or something like that. Lola's house was rough, a log thing with enough space to house a loft upstairs and a couple of bedrooms, but simple. Between Thomas and Calden's homes, Lola was a mite surprised to see that something lived in by a Silver Fang was as simple looking as it was, but given the windows on the top floor and the fact that, well, a Silver Fang lives there, she imagined the interior would be another story entirely.
She'd paused and redirected her route when she saw bodies up on the bridge, and with her hands jammed into her coat pockets she'd circled around to stand before the bridge-- not quite close enough to have to crane her neck too much to look up, but at least near enough that a raised voice would do; no shouting necessary.
Javed is recognized for there aren't many men who resemble him about, and Lola expected that she would likely find him about here after all. She didn't immediately recognize Calden for she didn't really think to see him here. Though Avery had never really been spoken to before, she's been seen at a Warmoot or two prior to this day, and beautiful blond women of such regality are difficult to mistake after meeting once, even if it wasn't a formal meeting. The Philodox is recognized instantly.
She asks how she can help, and Lola rolls her shoulders and calls back: "Was just comin' to welcome you to the neighborhood. And, if Javed's here, say hey and touch base." The third person, the man in the cowboy hat, waved to her. Lola looked at him a little more closely, and her brows furrowed some (though the expression is impossible to read from this distance, really), but she lifted a hand from her pocket and waved back anyways. There's only the tiniest thread of uncertainty, caution, or something-else when she greets him too. "Hey, Calden."
Avery ChaseLola Hawkes, Calden announces, for both Avery's benefit and Javed's. Avery's tension, calm but present, eases a bit as the cowboy waves to the Uktena. Avery smiles, and she waves down to Lola as well. She did know the woman on sight, though perhaps not by name and still does not know her intent. This is Javed's territory and Calden was invited, but Lola's presence here keeps Avery's mild tension alive. There must be a reason, and Avery hopes it is not as dire as she suspects it might be.
Oh, she does hope this is simply a social call, and they aren't going to have to interrupt their tour to go demon-hunting. Though that would provide them with some trophies to clean up and display downstairs.
--
to welcome you to the neighborhood
And just like that, instantly, Avery's face breaks into a bright, open smile. She lifts her hands from the railing, pressing her palms together. "Oh, that's so thoughtful of you. Neighbors!"
You can tell what glee that thought gives her. Avery waves towards the longer structure of the house. "Come in the middle door," she tells Lola. "We'll be right down." Turning to the gentlemen with her she adds: "I hope you don't mind; surely we can continue the rest of the tour later, but we have a guest!"
We. And in she goes, traipsing down the stairs to the room she called a 'parlor' earlier, swinging the door open to the deck to greet Ms. Hawkes. It is not a large building, and from what Lola can see through all the glass, the interior is actually rather cozy, the couches soft and leather and comfy-looking, the wood pale and clean, the landscape filled with privacy-giving trees. Everything smells alive and outdoorsy. Certainly not what one might expect from a Silver Fang whose monogram is four initials, but then: one might not expect her to be packed with a metis Strider or hanging around a cowboy, either. No matter.
"Welcome!" she says to Lola, instantly, beaming at her. "Come, come in. Make yourself comfortable." There is, of course, a coatrack beside the door, an elegant and simple steel thing on three legs. It is probably from Ikea. "Would you like anything to drink?"
Javed Anubis-SightAvery has concerns that, on their first visit to the house as a group, they may find Lola bringing a demon hunt to their door. Javed has other concerns, considering how his last conversation with Lola went. He did not catch the worst brunt of Lola's anger of course, but he is well aware how little the Uktena thinks of re-opening the Cold Crescent. And while he is resolute and not afraid to discuss the issue, it would not have been his first choice for a conversation at this moment.
"Thank you," he says, more quietly, to Calden for identifying Lola before he--well, he does not wave. Waving is something to be done as a signal when you cannot communicate in a verbal manner. So instead he speaks out in that gravelly, accented baritone. "Good afternoon, Ms. Hawkes."
Avery's excitement may not exactly be reflected in Javed, but that is simply because Javed is not the excitable sort. And besides, she is correct; they have a guest and there is a certain level of hospitality that is expected. And so he nods to the Silver Fang amicably. "Of course not."
And this is how he finds himself walking aloing with her, back downstairs to help his packmate meet Lola. "A pleasure to see you as always," he says with his ever calm, ever even expression.
Calden WhiteA guest. Their first guest! Avery is beside herself with delight. Following her down the stairs, Calden bows his head to hide a grin.
And then she's opening the door -- the middle one -- and inviting Lola Hawkes inside. Calden, who is in fact not wearing a cowboy hat today (and likely less recognizable to Lola for it), smiles at her over Avery's shoulder. He has his arms folded casually over his chest, hands tucked under his biceps; unravels one now to shake Lola's hand by way of hello.
"Live in the area, do you?"
Lola HawkesThe joy that is cast through the air from one story of the house down to the lower was noticed, certainly, but not acknowledged in any outward way by the gruff looking woman who stood on the dirt and grass of what could constitute a yard. She's called a neighbor and advised to go meet them at the middle door. Though Avery was smiling brightly, though Calden was waving and a friendly entity as well (neverminding the last time that she'd seen Javed and the note she'd left that encounter on), Lola did not seem to be able to share the enthusiasm-- or at least, she couldn't be bothered too. She just nodded clearly and shifted her weight to move.
Javed's greeting has her pausing for a moment, long enough to give the man born under the same moon she'd originally been promised to a good solid eye-to-eye kind of stare (no hostility, though, just a matter of 'I see you and you see me') before lifting one hand to hail him and moving toward the door that she'd been invited to.
When the door is opened to reveal Avery, Javed, and Calden all three, Lola looks blandly surprised. When she finds that Avery is beaming and inviting her in and offering her a drink, and all so genuinely on top of that, the Kinfolk's dark and expressive eyebrows crawl higher on her forehead, and that bland surprise turns to something more genuine. Clearly, she's left bewildered by the enthusiastic show of hospitality. It has her hesitating before stepping over the threshold and unzipping her jacket. "Ah, thanks," she told Avery uncertainly. "I'm alright for now--" to the drink, followed by another: "but thank you."
The coat she's wearing is shed to reveal a green camisole that covers the tops of her legs, and there's a loose brown long-sleeved shirt overtop of that. Javed gets a nod, but not unlike him smiles don't necessarily come easy or by default to the Uktena. The greeting seems friendly enough all the same. "Of course, Javed. Good to see ya." Hope I didn't make too big of an ass out of myself last time, she thinks about saying, but decides she doesn't want to share the story with Calden and doesn't want to pick up that argument when she's trying to make friendly.
For Calden, the only physical greeting, and because he initiates it. The hand he offered is clapped with her own, and the shake she gives is as solid and stern as the rest of her. "Sort of. Hell of a lot closer here than your ranch, anyways."
Then, to the room in general, but deferring to Avery by default because this is the woman she's meeting for the first time, and the one who had addressed her first. "Heard that this pack set up turf out here. Had me wonderin' and wantin' to come see what's up-- I mean, aren't you guys posted out in the city?"
Avery ChaseLola is certainly too young to be seen as gruff. Javed! Now there's a gruff-looking sort, and he's certainly not really gruff, and Calden keeps saying his father is rough and gruff but Avery truly can't find it in him, so Calden must just be to close to the problem. Avery, for what it's worth, has enough enthusiasm and congeniality to make up for Javed's stoicism and Lola's... Lola-ness, and Calden is at least friendly and neighborly and Javed is always polite and mannerly, so really, she thinks the scales are tipped rather strongly in her direction.
There are no servants here to swoop in and take Lola's coat and hat, though naturally if there were servants here, you probably wouldn't have noticed them until they were needed (or they're not very adept servants at all). Avery herself is offering to take that jacket as it's unzipped, hanging it on the coatrack as the door is closed behind the Uktena, and her hat as well if Lola removes the beanie.
"Oh, doesn't he live just ridiculously far away?" Avery says to Lola at the mention of Calden's ranch. The tone is one almost of conspiracy, joint exasperation with the distance. "It's wonderful land, though. I chased an elk there!" she adds brightly, not mentioning that she leapt over Calden's truck in its pursuit, took it down, and ripped it into delectable pieces in front of him until her belly was swollen with meat and blood and she was satisfied enough to take notice of the kinsman. But hey! Chasing elk! Fun!
That moment of friendliness, that suggestion that she and Lola are in on something together, that Calden is so rude to live so far away, is followed a few moments later by a gentle touch of Avery's shoulder against Calden's arm as she passes by him. It's a subtle thing, but if Lola were yet -- after seeing Calden here at all, after Avery's very clear statement about having spent time on his land -- wondering how these two know one another, there is enough quiet intimacy in that brushing touch to fill in some of the blanks.
Avery smiles at Lola, cocking her head. "Well, that is where my home and kinfolk are, and where my pack most often hunts. But the caern is here, and the moots, so we are here regularly enough to warrant a domicile. Besides, Javed did not want to impose himself on my family's house, and I would be remiss if I didn't provide a sanctuary for my pack when wanted or needed." She spreads her hands happily to indicate the house. "And so."
Her hands lower again, gracefully, to her sides. "Naturally we will not always be present, and perhaps not even the majority of the time, but all of Gaia's creatures who have not fallen from their purpose deserve a safe place to lay their heads. This will be one of ours."
Calden WhiteCalden can't remember if he's disclosed the nature of his relationship with Avery to Lola. He knows he's mentioned her -- used her as a counterexample to Lola's own story of i thought i was one thing but i was another -- but he's not sure he's actually spelled it out. He doesn't think he has. Discretion is a part of his nature; it's a piece of what he considers common courtesy.
Still, it's not like either of them is trying to hide it. The signs are there: the casual contact, the way his head turns to follow Avery sometimes. The look in his eyes when he sees her so happy, which transduces into a warmth that simmers all the way through the smile he turns on the Javed and Lola.
"It's hardly my fault my ancestors decided to put roots down so far north," he says. "But at least up there all I have to worry about are rainstorms and flash floods."
Javed Anubis-SightCalden and Avery make small talk, as is perfectly appropriate. This is good, as it is not one of Javed's better skills. The man may have his moments wherein he is well-spoken, but he simply never developed a gift for discussing matters that are not of a greater import. That, of course, is not to say that being friendly and polite is not important, or that matters of socialization for the sake of camaraderie does not have value. It is simply somewhere that he is a bit lacking and thus he is grateful for his packmate and her suitor's ability to engage Lola in this manner.
Lola brings up the matter of the pack living this far out when they are based within the city, and Avery does an excellent job of explaining the matter. Javed, for his part, has his own reasons that are in addition to what Avery has to say. "Indeed. And of my part aside from that...while we are primarily operating within the confines of the city and remain steadfast in those plans, Ms. Hawkes...I grew up even less urban than this, and my people have a tendancy to move often. It is my hope that, with a variance of venues, I shall not fall prey to the wanderlust inflicted on my tribe for the fact that we do not have a homeland to call our own."
It is said without moroseness or even melacholy, really. It is simply a matter of fact. While all Silent Striders feel the loss of their ancestral homeland of Khem, there is something to be said for the fact that you cannot understand a loss that you never had in the first place. And with Javed's reserved demeanor, any sadness he may feel about it is deep enough within to not be visible on the surface.
Calden White[VERY BELATED EMPATHY]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 10, 10, 10) ( success x 3 )
Lola Hawkes'Gruff' might not be the most appropriate word for Lola's apparent and abundant youth. And yet it's not too far off. She doesn't look mean or angry, necessarily, but she still doesn't smile, not even in a crinkle of the eyes or a softening of that still semi-surprised expression that she wore. Avery had offered to take the jacket that Lola had shrugged off, but the Kinswoman doesn't abide. She manages not to be rude about it, doesn't refuse the gesture with a defensive jerk of the shoulder or block of the body. She's just seamless in continuing the action of shrugging the coat off and turning into a reach for the nearby coatrack.
When her arms lower from depositing the coat she tugs the loose hem of her over shirt. Something about that gesture is purposeful, a mite self-conscious, but soon enough her thumbs hitch into her pockets and her eyes lay on Avery to hear her out.
Yes, Calden lives impossibly far away, but the ranch is great. Our work is in the city, but for Moots and other duties it's worth having the land.
Javed started speaking next, explaining that a change in location helped with the wanderlust that grew in the bones of his people much like the prying curiosity that was fostered in her ancestors as well. While he's explaining this her eyes cut quickly, sharply, to Avery and Calden, catching the friendly brush and the way that the Kinsman's eyes trailed along after the Philodox, the fondness of the expression there. Lola's brow furrowed and lips pressed together, but she was quick to cut her gaze elsewhere, to pretend that she was instead frowning at a picture on the wall while she worked to smooth the look from her face.
We're not here to start fights, girl. Come on, now.
It's all too easy for Calden to know what that look, what that earlier tone was all stemming from, though. She had clear disapproval for the cross-tribal affection being displayed modestly, but casually and openly none the less before her. But, at the same time, he's able to see that she's at least trying to swallow it down, making a (poor, apparently) effort to mask it.
Another tug at the bottom of her shirt, and she's talking to Javed because it was better to distract herself with him than to linger on the physical reflection of a rumor she'd heard a while ago anyways. "I won't lie to you, Javed, I was beginning to wonder how much longer 'till your feet would find the road. Longest I think I've seen a Strider keep around is a year and a half...?"
Avery ChaseThe refusal to be helped, the frown that Lola can't quite keep off her face -- oh, Avery notices. The fact that Lola is prickly and self-conscious isn't a secret, even on their first meeting outside of a warmoot. But Avery does not pry. Avery does not look even so deeply as Calden does, and misses that barely-hidden disapproval.
She does not miss, however, what Lola says to Javed. Her head tips. She smiles. "You've known many Striders?"
Calden WhiteDisapproval. That's what that something was. Calden sees it, notes it; doesn't shy from it, but says nothing of it. Truth be told he can't even blame Lola for it. She's an old-fashioned, opinionated creature, and there are many of them out here near Forgotten Questions. On some level, he's almost surprised that this is the first time someone's looked at him, looked at Avery, made the connection and disliked it.
Then again: they're discreet. They're private about their private lives. The number of Garou and kin who know could probably be counted on two hands, if not one.
At any rate, Lola says nothing of it either. She turns the attention on Javed instead. Makes one of those typically Lola comments: blunt, a little socially insensitive. Something about Avery's smile looks perhaps a little edged to Calden.
"Well, there are a lot of wanderers in Owl's tribe," he's doing his best here, "and a lot of drunkards in Stag's. But it's probably not fair to tar everyone with the same brush."
Javed Anubis-SightJaved and Lola are surprisingly alike in many ways. Their habits toward self-reliance, their generally serious demeanors. They are not the first people that you would find within a high-class social setting. But there is a reason for this; Gaia made them for other purposes. They both come with their own challenges toward accomplishing that purpose, of course. But even in those challenges, there is similarity: the desire to rise above those challenges and be more than others have thought they could be.
Lola suggests that she was expecting him to find his way elsewhere eventually, and the Strider is not offended. It is a common assumption, and not an inaccurate one for an outsider to understand. It is commonly known that the tribe wanders, of course. It is even known, to some degree, why they do. But there is something that is rather less spoken of, and that many within the Tribe to not acknowledge, at least to each other. Wandering is not always something to be desired by the Children of Owl. Far from it. Their wanderlust could be better described as a wandering curse. Javed knows deeply what it means to want to stay somewhere and not be able to. This is not his first Sept.
He gives a light shake of his head in response to Lola's words, even though she didn't ask a question that would be answerable by assent or dismissal. "I plan to go nowhere, Ms. Hawkes. There is much room within the city and the more Wyld-oriented outreachings for me to wander within. I have found that a greater purpose and a sense of duty to pack, Sept and city is a weight that I shall gladly allow to hold me down and keep my feet from pointing away for too long."
Lola HawkesAvery asks brightly if Lola's known many striders, but there's a new manner about her when she does, like someone tightened a bolt just a half-a-twist more to the right than before. Calden's eyes hopped from her to Lola, and he'd expressed a stereotype of his own tribe and tried to difuse by saying that not everyone operated the same.
Lola cleared her throat quietly and lifted her chin so it was a clean 90 degree angle from the floor beneath her. She responded to perceived tensions like they were small challenges, and her posture reflected this, but her tone of voice is at least casual and even when she answers Avery. Hell, she even goes so far as to dismissively bounce her right shoulder in a half of a shrug. "Not personally. I've seen a few pass through the Caern over the years, though."
For Calden, a glance and a raise of eyebrows. She may have said something to clarify herself to him, but Javed's deep voice picks up and he has Lola's attention once more.
When all's done she's looking uncomfortable. Not to any extreme, not nearly how Javed had seen her at the park the other weekend, or how she had been with Calden when they were having sandwiches and meeting formally for the first time, when he'd had the conversation about birthright and its pros and cons and perceptions(delusions). But she's still got a defensive straightness to her spine, and she's working her jaw in small ways behind closed lips until the air is still enough for her to speak.
"I ain't sayin' that I think it's a surefire thing you'll go off, man. Just wanna get that straight. But I think it's fair to wonder." And worry, is the unspoken part, but that'd be too much to say aloud. "I'll be glad to see ya stay, though."
Avery Chase"Mm," is Avery's only response to the answer Lola gives to her question. If she, like Calden, senses some coldness to Avery that wasn't there before, perhaps it can be waved away, understood as overcompensatory defensiveness of her packmate. But Avery has never shown that before, even if only Javed would know that.
That said, she watches Lola, seeing that self-consciousness and tension appear again, the discomfort washing over her, and Avery just feels wretched then, even as Lola's spine stays rigid with defensiveness. Oh no, that isn't right at all. Not in her home. Not a guest. Avery shakes her head gently.
"No. I don't think any of us think that you were saying such a thing, Ms. Hawkes," she says, her brows stitching together for a moment. "But not all things it is fair to wonder to oneself are similarly fair to wonder aloud. We do our minds and honor a disservice when we do not give ourselves adequate time for contemplation, and weigh what we wonder against what we know for sure."
She doesn't add: we do those around us a greater disservice, too, because she doesn't think she needs to. She just dismisses it thereafter, turning sideways to offer Lola a path to the stairs. "Even should Javed depart from us, it is not something he would need to explain to me, and not something he should have to defend to anyone else. We must have faith in the strong among us. Faith, at very least, that they will always be there when they are needed." She smiles. She means it. "And Javed is very strong indeed. I have heard similar things said of you, when your name is mentioned: that whatever else is wondered of you, you are there when you are needed. And that is high praise, no matter the source."
That gesture, that stepping aside to clear a path, was not for no reason. With her smile, Avery adds: "You should join us for a snack. We were in the middle of a tour, and you're more than welcome, though it's a short one." That bit is wry, her eyes twinkling. The house is small, after all.
Calden WhiteIf someone were to ask Calden, right now, why he feels the way he does for Avery, he'd point out what just happened. He'd point out how Lola had put her foot in her mouth, and how the others had reacted to it, and how she'd felt defensive, and how Avery,
instead of rubbing it in, instead of lording over Lola's misstep, instead of being exactly the sort of over-entitled arrogant royal one might well expect a woman of her breeding and background to be,
felt bad for her. Felt compassion. Felt driven to go out of her way to forgive, and to teach, and to uplift, and to welcome.
That. That's what he'd point to, right here and now. It changes though, hour to hour, minute to minute. His adoration is a light; his perception of it, a many-faceted prism.
--
"It's a pretty good one though," Calden puts in, smiling, and by doing so shows that he too wants to welcome Lola into this den. "Charming tour guide. Worth the admission price. Oh," he looks at Avery with a spark of sudden dismay, "I should have thought to bring steaks."
Javed Anubis-SightJaved notes Lola's discomfort; that is the kind of behavior that crosses species lines. He has an easier time with those kinds of reactions. He does not, perhaps, understand why though. It is one of those moments wherein he doesn't get that his rebuttal may have come off like reproach, when it was instead simply a blunt correction.
And thus, Lola clarifies defensively, and Avery smoothes it out. This is where Avery excels but Javed is less good. And he knows it, and he bares to shame in that fact. It is how things should be. They learn from each other how best to complement each other's roles in both Nation and Pack. And seeing how Avery soothes the situation...this is a learning experience for him.
"By all means, Ms. Hawkes." He nods. "Please do join us."
Lola HawkesThe woman of fair hair and similarly bright words speaks up again, interjects into a situation that Lola was beginning to feel slide out from under her, like the beginning slow crawl of the land that had slipped below her boots a couple months back and left her stranded on a rock in the storm. She could feel but could not help the tension leaking into her muscles, but was quick to have her attention pulled to Avery when she spoke up.
Though her posture does not immediately relax, it's quite clear that Lola is doing more than just listening to what Avery is saying, but she's focusing on hearing it as well. Lola came up with a rough-housing set of agemate cubs, being knocked in line by mentors and teachers and her older sister from time to time as well. She knew some base tenants of how to behave, and one of the major ones (bolded and underlined in the rulebook) was respecting the territory of another. She was still by default perceiving this more as Avery's territory than Javed's (perhaps because she was not convinced that Javed would not be temporary, perhaps because she knew it was Avery's money that paid for the place, perhaps even simply because Avery had invited her through the door, had greeted her first, and that was perceived as dominance asserted), so she deferred to the Silver Fang and minded her words.
She's telling you to think about what you say before letting it fall out of your mouth. Doesn't that just sound familiar?
Yeah, she answered herself in her mind, but there's no reason to linger on it. We're moving on.
So Lola's shoulders rounded a little more and she glanced between the two men there as well, from Ahroun to Kinfolk, before tipping her chin back and scratching at her throat roughly with blunt, unpainted fingernails. "Alright." She'll go on the tour, she'll have the snacks.
For Calden's offer of steak, she addresses him directly again, for the time being willing to swallow back whatever disapproval it was that he had so clearly read on her face and in her spine just a minute ago. "You should've-- I'd've eaten the hell out of some steak."
Avery ChaseCalden is remorseful. He brought neither steaks nor scotch. Avery turns to him, blinking once or twice, taking on an expression of affront and patience comingled. "Well, I don't see how I can help you if you fail to think ahead, Mr. White," she says archly, teasingly, following it with a smile that contains any and all of the warmth that has been lacking in other interactions.
The truth is, this is Calden and Javed's first meeting, and her comportment with each of them is very different. Her demeanor with newcomers and visitors is, too, wholly different, and Avery is not so perfect that she isn't trying to find a happy middle ground with the three of them and how to behave: to be a little warmer, to not be too familiar, to show her appreciation for restraint, to offer comfort to someone who traveled here just to say hello to new neighbors, to bear in mind her last conversation with Calden and how he might be feeling, to not push too hard with Javed, to control the animal instinct to viciously, ruthlessly defend her pack and her territory against even the hint of offense -- oh! It would make one's head spin.
Good thing there's nosh upstairs.
--
She looks so pleased that Lola will stay, and leads them all up the stairs again while Lola is chastising Calden for not bringing steaks. Avery's steps are light, even in those little boots of hers, taking them back up to the living room and dining room and kitchen with its glossy red counters. She shows them all across the bridge and into her suite, though perhaps it means something that she doesn't open the door to her bedroom. Down the stairs there is a guest bedroom with two twin beds, a guest bathroom, but they go back upstairs again for food. There, she is the one to suggest that Calden build a fire, saying something about how it just seems right that a man with a dozen hearths in his own home be the one to christen the hearth in this one, and perhaps she's right: perhaps there is some luck, some blessing, in having a Fianna build your home's first fire. There is dry wood on the bridge between the two structures, long matches beside the fireplace.
Avery is also the one to open the fridge and begin pulling out trays of canapes: herbed avocado on thin slices of crusty bread. Rare slices of tenderloin shaved and topped with diced tomatoes and basil. Cucumber slices with goat cheese, chives, and tiny periwinkle-blue borage blossoms. Prosciutto rolled tightly around Julienne-cut pear and bites of bleu cheese. Minted watermelon cubes. Russet potatoes the size and shape of golf balls roasted and filled with dollops of sour cream. Chilled pavlova cups bearing crescents of kiwi and sugar-frosted raspberries. Triangles of toast smeared with roquefort and a single walnut and leaf of parsley. Every shelf of the fridge is taken up by these trays, and though the bites are small, there is enough food for three times as many people. Those tenderloin and tomato bites are not quite a full steak on someone's plate, but there is enough red meat and carbs available to make it worth one's while.
Sparkling water. And perhaps it's a nod to Javed that there is not even alcohol being served just now, though Avery has not refrained entirely from partaking in his presence. This is his first meal in this den, though; she will not have him excluded from anything. And there is a sense of ritual to this, too, when she brings the food out as Calden is building a fire. There is a sanctity over it, with the sunset glimpsed over the not-so-distant mountains, casting the room in a golden glow.
The laws among their people are sacred. The laws of hospitality, however, transcend all nations, all tribes. The woman who paid for and designed the house serves, and the first person she serves is the unexpected guest. They are a test of one's hospitality, a blessing to the house and perhaps how they are treated is an omen for the peace or lack thereof that one will find there. Whether that is on her mind or not, Avery smiles at Lola when she offers her a plate filled with tenderloin and prosciutto and potatoes and watermelon and a glass of sparkling water that is so clear and clean that it glints in the dying light. She has a similar smile, but a more knowing one, as she invites Calden, pointing out something she thinks he'll like. And it is meaningful that she and Javed choose their food last.
It would be different, if they were different. But there is nothing to prove by demanding the first share of what is so readily available to them both. There is only what they can show to their guests, as the four of them sit gathered around a hearth to eat together. And that is enough, maybe, to be able to show. To share. It has been enough, after all, for people of all cultures for eons:
to sit together, and share a fire and a meal.
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