Behind The Veil

Earlier...

Though you wouldn't gain such an admission from most Garou, the Apocalypse War was one of attrition, and they were on the losing side. Even the urrah, arguably the most populous two of the twelve tribes, were feeling the pinch. There simply weren't enough of them anymore for tribal lines to be so clearly drawn, a fact that Tori had spent most of the evening arguing with Jon over. The two elders sat on the promontory at the front of the stage, the microphone stand to one side, a now-empty jug of water on the other. Despite her condition, Tori sat cross legged, back straight, matching Jon's endurance minute for minute.

"I'm including everyone," she repeated, sounding as confident and firm as she had the first seven times, spiting her exhaustion. For half an hour her gut had boiled with the movement of her child, the infant's bones feeling like hot steel against her insides. Much as she wanted to lay her hands on her belly and try to enjoy a communion with new life, the business at hand was far more serious.

"Tori-yuf, for the last damn time, all it's going to do is fuck off the spirits. We'll participate, but no one else should. They don't understand and they don't care. You and I both know that. Roman knew it too." Jon's mildly condescending tone got a frown from his alpha, but he made no apology. "It is a Glass Walker rite, an urrah rite. Tainted by association. Appreciating the low born and the servant classes is not their thing, okay?

Tori mentally prodded Raquel, rousing the philodox from her half-sleep in the office to check the time. Five AM. She kept her sigh internal, holding down a wince at a kick or punch her child laid on her kidney. "First thing. No one but you has ever used the term 'servant classes'. Second Thing. Roman didn't found this place so you could take out a grudge against Theo goddamn Noble-Flame on every non-Glass Walker or Bone Gnawer that came through those doors. He founded it so that Gaia's laughter could be heard. Which brings me to Thing number Three. You quit this ridiculous bullshit you've been spouting. We get it. The Silver Fangs were mean to you. Get. Fucking. Over. It." She felt her Rage flare as the infant timed its next kick to hit her bladder just as she snapped those last words at Jon. Immediately she reined it in, getting it back under control before she put herself at risk. "Fourth Thing, and I am not happy with you for making me say it. I am the Don of this city and the alpha of this sept. I am inviting everyone to participate in the rite. If it 'fucks off' the spirits, I'll do the chiminage myself. All you have to do is leave me alone in here at midnight. This isn't about breeding or tribe or even rank, this is about appreciating the people who make it all work."

Jon glowered through her entire speech, though by 'Fourth Thing', he'd lowered his eyes to acknowledge her slightly superior position. He took a moment to collect himself when she was done speaking, mastering his own Rage as it rose in response to hers. "Fine. We'll do it your way. Paul, though-"

"Isn't coming. I'm not stupid."

"Good. And I don't think we should allow Fianna kin after all of their recent issues."

Tori shook her head and uncrossed her legs, reaching for Jon's hand. He took it and pulled, helping her regain her feet. "Paul's the only one who isn't allowed," she retorted. "Besides, I'm not ordering you to talk to them. You just have to not sabotage their efforts or punch anyone undeserving." She stood firm as he used her as leverage to pull himself to his feet. "And I spent all day yesterday hand-icing gingerbread people for the cliath. I am not eating all of those cookies by myself."

The ritemaster shook his head as he waited for her to take her first steps towards the exit, his eyes still downcast. "Of course not," he said, following after the alpha as she exited the caern center. "I'm sure they'll be enjoyed." He spoke without sarcasm and Tori made no reply. She drew her cell phone from her pocket as soon as they were out of the caern center, tapping keys rapidly with her thumbs.

--------------------------------------------------------------

--------------------------------------------------------------

Now...

The mood in the air was casually cheerful, the Sept's kin mingling with the Garou who were able to join them in the evening of revelry. The alcohol flowed freely from the bar at the back of the church hall, Jorge good-naturedly arguing with Jon's youngest brother over pouring techniques. Sitting against one wall, her status only noteable to those knowledgeable in Garou behavior and the politics of this particular sept, Tori lounged in a comfortable chair against the wall. The party, low key as it was, flowed around her, with the occasional glance of recognition or word of congratulations passed her way. She sipped a glass of non-alcoholic cider, watching her packmates trying and occasionally succeeding in working the crowd.

Alabama, Ed and Cheyenne had opted to remain at the caern, supported by a small staff of kin and at least one member of the Guardian pack at a time. A few other Garou had agreed to provide short terms of support in between their time at the celebration, and the rotation seemed to be working out. The Sept was less than two blocks away-defenders would be able to reinforce the bawn quickly if necessary. The risk was acceptable, since every precaution had been taken to be sure that as little time as possible was spent at this low level of security.

"You're worrying." Raquel crouched next to her alpha, patting Tori on the arm and looking out at the small crowd of people milling around. "He doesn't know what he's talking about, you know. This is a great idea," the philodox leaned against the alpha's chair, watching the kin and garou as they wandered past. They shared a companionable silence before Raquel rose again, running her fingers along Tori's arm in a gesture designed to ease her. "Want anything? The macaroni salad's great for cravings, or so Genelle seems to think."

"No thanks, Ray," Tori replied, smiling a little tiredly at her beta. Her stomach gave a burble, just to be contrary, and Tori shook her head. "Alright. Maybe a little. But go easy on the cheese, okay?" Raquel answered with a nod and another pat on the shoulder, leaving Tori be as she went to load up a plate.

The morning that Alexis heard about the upcoming Rite and that she would be allowed to attend it, she had been excited. It was really her first Garou involvement other than one on one training and education. Beyond just that, she really liked the idea of appreciating the undervalued. It was such a worthy thing that she wanted to do her best, making a solid, honest effort to make some people truly feel their value in the world. But what to do?

Lex sat about thinking long and hard for most of the morning. She didn't have any money to share, or even any possessions at the moment. She raked her brain and thought about who she could think of that others would consider expendable or disposable. It came to mind that many people, she thought, did not value kids very much. Particularly the poor kids, ones living in poverty, or even on the street.

Eager, she leaped to her feet and set out into the city where she spent a large part of the rest of her day volunteering a woman's shelter. She assisted with the day care, playing with younger kids and even helping to cook and serve some meals. It really hit home with her because she saw the reflections on many faces there that were similar to her own. Bruises, excuses, shyness and even the glimmers of trust and long awaiting smiles which were all things that she had and continues to experience. When she left, she cried nearly all the way back home again, but oddly felt good too.

-----

The party itself was a strange thing. She'd never actually been to a party before. Being the youngest by a good margin and the newest left her feeling rather self conscious and very small. It didn't help matters that she walked around carrying s stuffed animal tucked in one arm, but without Puffball there, Lex wouldn't have had the strength to stay at the party very long at all and would have more likely holed up in a corner somewhere. Someone had given her a gingerbread cookie, despite a mumbled protest, so she carried that in her other hand. She could never bring herself to eat in this kind of situation, although her stomach gnarled miserably, but the cookie smelled good, so she just lifted it to her nose to get a scented taste as she looked about for possibly a familiar face or something else to do.

Before:

Rick sat uncomfortably as the mound of cloth and filth shuffled around before his eyes. Beneath it was a Mule named Touch-Of-Glass. The only confirmation of the Bone Gnawer's presence was the wisdom which had been slipping past shit covered lips, for the past half an hour. Touch was a Theurge and an expert in the Little Rite, although most didn't know it. Today, on the day of the Little Rite he offered his thanks to the little gods by teaching a new pupil.

Before him sat a counter part, dressed in Armani and smelling of cologne that cost more money then Touch would ever see. A first he'd said no. After all what could a Glass Walker, and a Corporate Wolf to boot, care of the Little Rite? It was for this reason that he'd refused the Cliath's request, at least at first. Out of curiosity or simply habit, he'd consulted the spirits on the matter. He didn't try for anyone special, and since the Glass Walker was footing the bill, Touch would have himself the best damned paint thinner money could buy. On his fifth huff, the vision had come. Although recalled little off it what he'd experienced of the pup's wealth was impressive. He decided to teach the boy, offering his time in thanks to the little spirits he might forget or never know.

Much to his considerable pleasure the Glass Walker had sat in rapt attention while Touch went on an on about the Little Ones and the rite which did them honour. “In the end it comes down to this. All grand things are made of smaller ones. If you use the machine then you must thank the gears, the oil, the steam and all the other parts, because without them there is no machine.” extolled the Fostern.

“So those who thank the parts can use the machine better then those that don't?” asked Rick eagerly, as visions of power and wealth sauntered behind his eyes.

“Well I suppose so.” replied Touch. The Glass Walker's smile revealed that perhaps he'd been too honest.

..........................

Now:

The Little Rite was always an important day at Lion Heart industries. The boss took the Rite very seriously, so he'd setup a system to ensure he always contributed. The day of the Rite was also the day for bonuses, specifically the Boss' bonus. Lion Heart industries had, had a hell of a year, it showed in the CEO's bonus. In corporate culture not giving the CEO the biggest bonus was tantamount to treason, so Rick had decided to throw the system on it's head. In a special and very public ceremony Rick was hand a check with a rather obscene amount of zero's on it. He took the check in his hands, ensuring that in the world of the public and the soul it was his. Still holding the check he addressed the small crowd, praising there hard work and dedication, before handing the check back to Ashley for processing. The Boss would see none of it, instead the money would go to bonuses to the lesser employees, starting at the ground up. Much to his pleasure he saw two other executives make similar speeches, although the second only gave away half of his bonus. Rick spent the rest of the day ensuring that either money from his bonus or his pocket found it's way into the hands of those who'd helped him earn it.

When the time came to head out for the official party Rick found himself tired but happy. He'd performed the Rite with zeal since his conversation with Touch, and every year his business and renown had grown. Who could ask for more then that? For the party he'd pulled out all the stops coming in a sinfully expensive tuxedo. He was a primed and manicured as ever, although this week his 'people' had received tips that seemed insane. He grabbed himself a glass of the finer alcohol and began weaving through the party. Today was a day for thanks, but also for Cliath who wanted to be Fostern, to be seen.

As Rick had so astutely noted, even a gathering dedicated to honoring the spirits and the people who made the world go around was an opportunity to play the subtle games of one-upmanship that made up Garou politics. There were several locally influential kin whose shoulders could be tapped, never mind the presence of the majority of the caern's Eldership, arrayed conveniently in the open for once. The positive mood lent itself well to friendly overtures. Reputations were bantered about and rumors made their way around the room in the time honored way. Newer faces were appraised from afar, wiser kin taking their cues from the ease of the Garou and not bothering themselves with playing wallflower too long.

Alexis' withdrawal from the crowd brought her close to a similarily inclined young garou. Teeth-Find-Blood slouched sullenly against the wall, chewing on the ear of his own custom-made gingerbread wolf. The candies and icing had been picked and licked off of the cookie, leaving him with the sweet-spicy taste of the treat. It was clear that this wasn't precisely to his tastes, judging by the face the wolf-born made every time he took another nibble of the thing. His eyes darted around the room as he looked for something uncomplicated to do, finally lighting on the cub.

"You. Cub," the Glass Walker grunted, shuffling a few steps along the wall to get closer to her. "The candy." He pried the ear off of the cookie-wolf in his hands and chewed thoughtfully on it for a moment before deciding that no, he still didn't like the taste. "You have some. I want some. I will give you..." He trailed off, turning his cookie over in his hands. Though trading and buying things was complicated, he'd learned enough about it to understand that his licked, chewed-on cookie was not an equal offering for the cub's candy. If there was any day that cheating a cub out of candy was wrong, it was this one. "You will come with me. I will get you some," he continued, straightening to his full height and jerking his head in the direction of the food tables. He'd already spotted his perfect prey, a dish of hard candies set near the desserts. Surely no one would stop two ahrouns from taking a whole bowl of Jolly Ranchers, even if one of them was a cub...

"You. Cub."

Lex turned to face the speaker, blinking with the surprise of being addressed. "Uh...hi." she said, but the wolf-born had something specific on his mind other than just chatting. As he approached, Lex carefully stepped back to keep an appropriate distance between them.

If she had understood exactly what his meaning was right off the bat, she would gladly just given him the candy from the cookie but it took her a minute and by then he was already headed toward the food tables, so she followed along just as he'd commanded her to do.

"My name's Alexis." She said as she trailed him, figuring she might as well both fill in the silence and get practice in on a proper introduction. "I don't have a tribe yet, but I'm an Ahroun. What's your tribe?"

When Jeanette heard about the little rite, she decided to go out and help a good cause. She left early in the morning and headed to an orphanage, offering her services for the day. Most of her day was spent cleaning up various rooms and moving various heavy objects, with the high point of the day being cooking some food. She had donated some of the money she had gotten from Talisa for food (most likely taken from the wallets of would-be rapists and killers that Talisa had stumbled across) for the express purpose of giving the kids something good to eat today, and the look on their faces made it all worth it. Hopefully today would boost their spirits, and good fortune would bless these orphans.

----------------------------------------

The kinfolk had left the poolhouse before her lover had returned, and arrived at the party without incident. Not being the most superstitious sort, she wore the same blue dress as she was wearing that night at the wild things. Talisa had gotten rid of hers; a bullet hole in the side was a hard thing to cover up and she didn’t like the memories associated with it. But tonight they were surrounded by mighty warriors of Gaia; no enemies could reach them there.

Looking around Jean didn’t spot any of her pack at the party yet, so she decided to catch up with some of the Garou she knew from the sept. Soon enough her eyes found the pregnant alpha and she went over to her ”Tori! Good to see you.” she said as she approached, respectfully bowing her head to the pregnant Garou before looking up again. ”How are you today?”

Teeth-Find-Blood's eyes darted around the room, locating the elders and anyone who might believe the candy dish was their property. The others continued their conversations, the chatter in the room rising and falling. To the lupus, it was white noise, nothing important unless someone called him by his name. He put his hands on either side of the bowl as the pup asked her question, licking his lips and peering intently at Tori. The alpha of the sept was clearly being distracted by a kinfolk who had approached her, making this the perfect time to escape with the candies.

"Tyler. Teeth-Find-Blood. Glass Walker Ahroun. Wolf born. Take, and go there," he grunted in his usual snappish tone, lifting the bowl of Jolly Ranchers and shoving them at the cub. "Go, corner, we eat." As an afterthought, he dropped his gingerbread wolf on the table where the bowl of sugary treats had been. Hunching his shoulders, he prowled towards a secluded corner, either forging ahead of or following the cub, depending on how quick she'd been to catch onto his directions.

As Teeth-Find-Blood made his daring Jolly Rancher heist, Tori greeted Jeanette with a mild smile. "I'm good, Jeanette. Please, sit for a little while." She adjusted how she was sitting for the hundredth time since she'd found her spot, it seemed, still trying to find a comfortable resting place for her aching back. "How are the Archangels? Are they coming tonight?" the Glass Walker inquired mildly. She plucked at her blouse, straightening it. She wasn't normally so fussy, but it kept her mind off of the occasional spike of pain in her back.

"Mmph-", Lex gave a small grunt as the bowl of candy was thrust into her grasp. She had to quickly balance it along with the cookie and Puffball which were also in her hands. Once she had gotten everything in her grasp, she lifted her head to see what corner he'd meant and saw that the wolf-born was already stalking off toward it.

She furrowed her brow a bit but trotted along after him, quickening her pace for a few steps to catch up. The two got to the corner and Lex stood, keeping a small but purposeful distance from the other Ahroun.

"Er--here." she said, cupping the bowl in one arm and offering the cookie to Tyler, as part of the trade, with the other. Once he took it, she glanced back to the rest of the party. She couldn't help the nervous edge that came along with being alone with the young man. She made herself ignore the twisting in her gut and sat down, setting the bowl in her lap. "We'll split these, okay? What's your favorite color?" Hers was green and so she began to pick out a few of those, tucking them inside the secret pocket on the back of the strange little stuffed animal.

Jeanette smiled as she accepted the Sept Alpha’s invitation-slash-request to sit down next to her. ”Thank you.” she said softly, taking the seat next to the pregnant woman as she noticed her adjusting herself in the chair. She thought about asking her what it was like, but before she could decide she was asked about the pack and how they were doing.

”They’re doing alright. I know Talisa and Kathleen are coming, and I’d be surprised if Lloyd wasn’t already here. Talisa said she might be a little late finishing up her appreciation, but I’d imagine she’d be here soon.” Her mind wandered off to the last time she had talked to the Theurge, shortly before she had left to help out at the orphanage. Talisa said something about leaving some anonymous gifts or something like that, but had been really vague about the details.

”So, how has your pack been? And how’s the baby coming along?”

Rick padded around the Sept like it was a high end hotel. He'd taken off his shoes and his socks already, letting the various surfaces of the massage or stab his feet as they felt the need. So far it had been more of the former and none of the latter, making it a good day overall. Hoping to improve his already good day, he threw both alcohol and food into the mix. The Elder's had arranged for a delectable and potent variety of each.

He was on his 5th such drink and the wonderful warm sensation which accompanies such things was already beginning to overcome his constitution. Not that his was a particularly impressive feat given Rick's size and weight, but it was a fact still worth mentioning. Also deserving of mentioned status was that he wasn't stumbling. As a rule, in Rick's world, clumsiness was something that happened to other people. In most instances his view of the world even matched up with the collective delusion commonly referred to as Objective Reality. The reason Rick's grace is worth so much attention is that in a moment he's going to fall on his ass, but he has a good reason.

That reason's name was Justin and he was in a word, disgustingly hot. Alright that's several words, but that should speak to the hotness Rick was being presented with. Justin was a successful fitness trainer, and in LA that also meant his face would have to match the rest of him. Since hearing about the successful kin, the Ragabash had dedicated at least a portion of his considerable resources to tracking down the kinfolk, and adding him to his collection. So far his attempts had brought none of the many fruitions which Rick sought, but there was always making up for lost time. Unfortunately as he took a stride towards the hunky kin he slipped on a Jolly Rancher and crashed swearingly to the floor. When he recovered his wits enough his senses alerted him to the proffered hand. Of course it belonged to the Justin, Fate would never allow a Ragabash such a conquest without a heaping helping of humility.

Teeth-Find-Blood slouched against the wall, hunkered down with his elbows on his knees. He was able to watch the entire room from that position, the better to be certain no elders took any of the...'kill' from he and the cub. "Hmf. Is there purple? Grapes?" He shoved his hand into the bowl, using his knuckles to shove candies aside until he found a deposit of his preferred flavor, then shovelling them out onto the floor. He picked the purple ones up one at a time, stripping the wrappers off with a delicacy that seemed entirely unlike him, and stuffing them into his mouth. Those candies that did not meet his approval were left on the floor. "What does those green taste like?" As he slurped at the ones already in his mouth, he spotted one of Alexis' favorites on the floor, picking it up and shoving it into her hand in his version of a generous gesture. "Is sour? Sweet?"

"You're welcome," Tori replied, smiling back to Jeanette. Her discomfort seemed to be easing for the time being, and she gave a little prayer of thanks to Nona and the rest of the Parcae. The little mercies were the most welcome, she was finding, and of course it was always fitting to give thanks to the smaller gods on the day of The Little Rite. "It's good that they're coming. I...feel that some of the eldership may owe them a bit of an apology for the way they've been treated lately. We can be oversensitive at times. They've been working very hard, I know." She offered a slight smile of apology. "And as for him..." She lay her hand on her swelled belly, rubbing gently and imagining she felt the pulse of the heart inside. "He's an energetic one. The pack's been very supportive, though I think they're starting to get worried that I'm going to ask them to 'share my joy' by following my lead." She chuckled and shook her head.

Though Garou were traditionally regarded as creatures of power and grace, the occasional crash landing couldn't be avoided. "My how the mighty do fall," Justin purred with the lightest touch of a good-natured Southern drawl, automatically extending a hand to the Garou who'd all but tumbled into his lap. His other hand was busy keeping a grip on the scotch and soda he'd been nursing, holding the drink up high and out of the way so he could help the ragabash up. "Too bad you didn't spill your drink, I could've gotten you another one. Richard Jones, right?" Here again the accent slipped out, adding an exotic softness to the words, easing the potential sting of any insult.

Never in his life had the Ragabash wanted to spill a drink, as badly as he did this very moment. A chance to have such a handsome creature serving him alcohol was almost too good to pass up. For an instant he debated pouring out his drink and saying something witty, but the presence of elders squashed the messy thought. Today of all days it was not a good idea to make too much of a mess, given either a Little One or an Elder would be cleaning it up. Instead he accepted the kinfolk's helping hand. Never one to turn down an opportunity, he resisted just a little to test the kinfolk's strength. He was far from disappointed as his little game revealed a tight grip in the hand as well as enough strength to practically life Rick up with one arm, all were good traits for what he planned later.

“Thanks. I am indeed Richard Jones, Corporate Industrialist, and klutz extraordinaire.” he said, getting to his feet with more grace then when he'd left them. He was immediately glad for well tailored pants, they helped to cover most of the fact that parts of him had stood up before others. If the sight of Justin hadn't been enough, then the slight Southern drawl would have finished the job. Having spent most of his life in France or on the Northen end of the United States, he'd never really gotten a chance to taste the country's more Southern cuisine. Like many foreign gays, he'd naturally assumed that the gays of the South would be repressed, or simply missing, and at first nothing had challenged those thoughts. But as he spent more time here, he'd begun hearing rumours that the great nation's tapestry was far richer then he'd first suspected. The chance to do some exploratory research with such a potentially useful specimen was too good to pass up. Of course he wouldn't get a chance to do any exploring unless he did something, so he made his favourite kind of move, both subtle and bold.

“Most of the time I'm far more graceful, I assure you. Although I must admit I've lagged behind in some of my more physical training. I suppose it must be lack of proper motivations. As for the drink, well any other time I would love nothing more then to have such a charming man bringing me drinks, but today is a little different, pun intended. You know that today, and tonight, is the time of the year when we Garou are supposed to serve you. Unfortunately for you, I've already accepted some of your kindness when you helped me up, so you're stuck with me until I repay the debt. If I don't the spirits will be more the cross with me, and I'll be in trouble for the rest of the year. So tell me Justin, is there any way in which I can serve you today, or tonight?” he asked letting a touch of his own accent slip in. The better to balance the innuendo and suggestion which the question contained. Touch-of-Glass had been right, Gaia rewards those who honour the little gods, or at least he hoped she would.

The ragabash's flirt teased a coy little smirk from the kinsman's lips. Glass Walkers and Bone Gnawers had a certain degree of freedom the other tribes didn't enjoy when it came to their kin. Without the expectations (however mild they might be) of breeding true and keeping bloodlines pure, they could pick and choose from a cornucopia of Garou and fellow kin. The advantages, as far as Justin was concerned, far exceeded the downsides. Networking and making connections was his game, and being free from feudalistic obligations to one Garou or another was a boon he had no interest in giving up. The exploitation other kin put up with was ridiculous and at no time was it more clear than during The Little Rite.

"Oh, so you think I'm your lesser?" Justin drawled, sipping the scotch and soda with unusual delicacy. "Any other day, you'd have me on my knees?" He gave a slight, lopsided grin. The Southerner watched Rick's expression in the moments of silence he left, then patted the no-moon on the cheek. "Good thing I'm not an easily offended man, Mr. Jones, or I wouldn't be seriously considering your offer. Think you can manage another scotch and soda, or are you beholden to all these other underlings too? I'm none too good at sharing." His smile quirked as he knocked back the last of the drink and offered Rick the glass. "Go ahead and make it a double, Rick." His tone of voice, particularly the subtle emphasis he placed on the last word. He stepped closer and certainly invaded the Glass Walker's personal space, just to punctuate the gesture.

At the bar, a flair competition appeared to have broken out. Leon, Jon's younger brother, was spinning a tequila bottle in one hand while Jorge showed off his juggling skills with lemons. People were starting to flock to the 'show', only inspiring the duo to show off even more. Bottles started to arc up into the air, flipping in carefully planned tosses between the two men.

Jean got comfortable in her seat, trying to remember to always show the Sept leader the proper amount of respect. Although she knew the Glass Walkers weren’t the most strict on that front, and that today of all days she wasn’t required to do so, she still respected Tori too much to not show her respect.

To say she was surprised by the elder’s talk of an apology being owed to the pack would be an understatement. She tried to hide it on her face, but it was evident that the kinfolk didn’t expect this kind of talk from the older woman. ”I’m…sure they would…um…” For the first time in awhile she was completely lost for something to say. She looked around for any sign of the pack, before returning her gaze to the elder.

Thankfully, she had answered her question about the baby, although the pronoun she choice to use revealed some new information that Talisa would like to hear, only so they could deal with the betting pool going on. ”Him? Me and Tal were betting on you having a girl.” She said with a playful grin. ”Well there’s nothing wrong with more little kinfolk and Garou running around. Although I’m not sure having a few pregnant Garou around the bar at the same time would end in anything other then tears.” She shifted in her seat, wondering where the theurges were. ”Have you heard about the thread from the lizardmen?” She said with a joking smile.

Alexis paused in gathering her own little hoard of green to watch her companion shove a number of the candies into his mouth. It made her giggle, but she tried to be polite and cupped her hand in front of her mouth as she chuckled. At any rate, whatever nerves she had mostly fell away.

"Um, green is apple. Have you eaten apples before? Well, they're sort of sour, but not too much." She replied after composing herself. She added his gifted one to the stash. "Thanks. You really like sugar don't you? You should try some pixie stix-They're like a straw filled with color sugar. There's even purple. Oh! Or pop rocks--they're fun. They're little candies that when you put them in your mouth, they fizz and pop, it feels really weird."

It was a rare pleasure to be able to talk candy to somebody. Not everyone appreciates the subtle delicacies of such things.