There is a pile of blankets in one corner, consisting of old sleeping bags; well chewed sheets, and the occasional rag. Curled up in the pile, and partially buried by it, is Renee. Near her head is the girl's knapsack.

The pile is nothing unusual; the girl isn't a usual fixture, but Bernie doesn't notice her immediately. A soft humming precedes the Raggie as she bounces down the stairs, a small stack of pizza boxes in her arms.

Renee isn't sleeping all that heavily and sits up, rubbing at her eyes, as Bernie bounces down the stairs. Woo. Pizza.

The humming pauses barely perceptibly as Bernie catches sight of the movement, but continues as she makes her way to the counter and sets the boxes down. "Hey," she greets Renee, then, "...you're th' new girl, huh?"

"I guess," Renee replies, sitting up a little straighter and wriggling free of the blankets. The girl squints, studying Bernie. "Who are you?"

"You c'n call me Bernie," the older girl replies, flashing a quick grin, "Omnibenevolent Bearer of Pizza. An' Bev'rages. Hungry?" She cracks the boxes open, checking the contents. "We've got meat lover's, pepper-mushroom-pineapple, pepperoni, an' cheese. So who're you, then?"

"Renee," the girls replies, continuing to watch Bernie suspiciously. "Someone called Nevada brought me here." The girl stands, heading for the food. "Pizza sounds good."

Bernie grins. "Yeah, I know Nev found ya. But that's 'bout it. Niceta meetcha, Renee." She spreads the boxes out for easy access, and gestures toward them in offering before slipping her own backpack off and unloading a selection of cans into the fridge. There's a bottle or two in there, too, but she doesn't remove them. "So why'd be bring you here, he say?"

Renee fingers the back of her head. Up close, there is some minor bruising on her face. "Cause a Rat spirit latched onto my leg and wouldn't let go." The girl sighs. "Said that I was a werewolf."

"Yeah?" Bernie replies, and tilts her head, looking the girl over again. "You sound a little less'n certain it was right. What d'you think? Got any indications either way, so far? I mean, 'side from bein' latched onta by a spirit." She closes the fridge, and snags a slice from the meat pizza herself.

The tip of Renee's braid ends up in her mouth, as she chews on it thoughtfully. "I believe that Nevada is one. He turned into one, picked me up, and shook me." The girl's voice wavers a bit, the experience having scared her pretty badly. "He was right, I have been cranky and having weird dreams. Doesn't make me a werewolf." She reaches for a slice of pizza.

Bernie considers, nodding a little as she munches, and opens the fridge again to offer the various drinks inside. "...so," she asks after swallowing, "he tell you anythin' else? Or mostly make with th' shakin'?"

Renee looks past Bernie, and into the fridge. "Could I have a coke, please?" She seems to notice teh braid tip in her mouth and makes a point of taking it out. "Shaking and that trying to leave was a bad idea."

Bernie grins again, fleetingly, and passes over the requested drink before bumping the door shut again with a hip. "Important info, that. And good advice. So, yeah, if th' rat spirit brought you to us an' vice versa, you're a werewolf, all right. An' onea us, t'boot. There's diff'rent groups of us, tribes, y'see." She takes another bite of her pizza, thoughtfully, and leans down to get one of the bottles from her backpack before zipping it up. "You got a problem with bein' a werewolf? Not that there's anythin' you c'n do 'bout it, anyway, so best just t' embrace it, really."

Renee takes her pizza and drink, sitting back down on the assorted blankets with them. She takes a bit of her pizza and swallows, before answering. "Scared, I guess."

Bernie shoves three of the pizza boxes into the fridge, then carries the meat pizza and her unopened Guinness over toward the pile of linen, where she joins the girl. "Reasonable. Any sane person oughta be. I was. An' Ann'ka an' I, we took it better'n most anyone, far's I know. You seem t' be doin' a'ight, too." She pulls a new slice from the box, and nibbles. "...so, here's a thing. Th' spirit, th' rat? That's a kinfetch, an' it means when you were born, someone checked t' find you were Garou, that means a werewolf, an' attached that spirit t'you. An' that spirit stays with you 'til you're 'bout t' pop, t' shift for th' first time, an' then it runs to find us. So, you're liable t' go soon. But, here's th' thing, most people, their first time is 'cause they get really pissed off, an' that gen'rally means a lotta damage, an' sometimes dead people. Sometimes dead innocent people who just get in th' way, even. Since we got you already, we're prolly okay there; chancesa you killin' onea us are pretty damn small. An' it also means you gotta choice. Most times, people try an' getcha t' change by pissin' ya off, slappin' ya about an' all. But sometimes people c'n do it by themselves, without all th' messiness. D'you wanna try it that way?"

"Will you let me go afterward?" Renee asks, sounding hopeful.

Bernie laughs, softly. "Well. Yes an' no. You won't be able t' go 'til after it happens, but there's other stuff you gotta learn an' understand first, too. Let's just say it's a necessary but not sufficient condition, a'ight?"

Renee sighs, taking another bite out of her pizza. "Okay," she mumbles past a mouthful of cheese and various meats. "What do I have to do?"

Bernie sets her slice down on the box. "Well. First of all, me an' Nev, we've got a special thing done t' our clothes so they don't rip when we shift. You don't, an' I dunno how t' do it, yet, so if you like those clothes, you're gonna wanna take 'em off. You c'n wrap in a blanket, or somethin'; I won't look."

Renee blinks at Bernie at stares, half-way through biting off another chunk of pizza. She takes the pizza out of her mouth, unbitten. "Umm, okay." Food and drink are set aside, as she picks through the pile of blankets. Finding something that will cover her. "No looking," She says, just to reafirm what Bernie had already stated. Turning around, she takes her clothes off, then wraps her skinny body up in the blanket.

Bernie rolls her eyes, in a completely different direction. "B'lieve me," she remarks dryly, "there's nothin' there I wanna see. No 'ffense." She polishes off the slice of pizza while she waits, adding, "...lemme know when you're ready."

"All right, I'm done," Renee says self-consciously. Sitting back down and with the blanket wrapped tightly around her. "What now?"

Bernie glances over at the girl warily, then nods once she's convinced it's safe. "A'ight. Well. When you dream of wolves, d'you ever dream y'are one?"

Renee clings to her covering blanket, as she nods. "Sometimes," she replies quietly. "Sometimes they're chasing me, or I'm with them and we're hunting somethin."

Bernie nods again. "Okay. Think of how it feels when you're one of them. The way your muscles feel, the way things look and smell and all. An' sometimes, I know this sounds silly, sometimes it helps t' also thinka when you were little an' pretended t' be animals; y'did do that, right? An' kina pretend t' be a wolf."

Renee looks at Bernie funny, coming to the same conclusion she has a few time already. These people are wacked. "Okay," is all that she says in reply. Closing her eyes and attempting to remember her dreams. What it felt like to have four legs, fur, teeth, and claws.

Renee reopens her eyes eventually, voice and expression portraying a certain amount of anger and frustration. "What now?" she says irritably.

Bernie shakes her head. "Patience. It's not going to be immediate the first time. 'less you'd rather I pissed you off an' slapped you around a bit, which, if you were wonderin', I =can= do instead. But th' anger, there? Keep it. Touch it. It comes from th' same place as shiftin'."

Renee grumbles to herself. "No, that's just fine. Being slapped around isn't one the list of things I'd like to do." The girl closes her eyes again, remembering her dreams of being a wolf. She thinks about all the things that have pissed her off recently, as well. From nearly getting hit by a driver who ran a stop sign, too Nevada going through her stuff. The dreams of being a wolf are quickly left behind, as she concentrates on everything that makes her mad. A low growl starting in the back of her throat.

"Good. But careful," Bernie murmurs, listening, "...channel it. Control it, don't let it control you, but let it flow..." Her posture shifts a bit, her things set aside as she tenses a little, poised to act if she needs to.

Renee isn't listening any more. The moon is full and she is practically reveling in her Rage, feeding it every slight and wrong she has had in her short life. The girl's knuckles turn white, as her fingers dig into the blanket covering her. Low growl turning into a full fledged snarl, as her lips pull back from her teeth. The change comes quickly after that, as the young cub experiences her first change. Exploding into Crinos.

"Shit," Bernie sighs under her breath, as she pops to her feet in a surprisingly athletic motion. She shifts too, but only to Glabro, so she can still speak and be understood. "There! Go you! See?" she comments, tone approving though gruff through the change. She holds herself warily, just in case. "...you won't be able to talk in that form, yet, but try walking a little, get used to it, okay?"

Renee snarls, ears pressed against her skull. Looking out at the world from several feet higher then she is used too. Golden eyes fix on Bernie, as the crinos' claws flex. She is keeping herself under control, barely.

Bernie grins; it's a bit less appealing in this form, admittedly, but the intent is reasonably clear. "You got it. Now... think calm thoughts, yeah? An' explore how it feels. You're gonna wanna get back to it later, an' it helps t' know what it's like."

Renee snorts, the explosive sound surprising her somewhat. Causing her ears to press forward. As the crinos calms, the cub goes about checking out this new form. Hands held close to her face, as she sniffs at the taloned paws.

"The weirdest things for me," Bernie remarks, leaning casually against the wall, "were not bein' able t' talk -- don't worry, we'll teach ya th' language -- an' havin' t' relearn how t' walk an' balance with th' tail. That form you're in, we call it Crinos, it's th' war form. This one I'm in, it's Glabro, or near-man. Ugly, but stronger'n homid, that's human, an' if it's dark an' shit you're at least less likely t' get seen as weird than in Crinos."

Renee crouches down, weight resting on all four limbs. Having become calm and rational again, the cub reverts to her birth form. She blinks owlishly, looks over at Bernie and promptly turns bright red. Reaching for the nearest blanket.

For her part, the Ragabash looks away as soon as it's clear what form the girl's going to end up in, glancing up at the ceiling as if the cracks there might reveal some amazing information. "Y'let me know when you're decent, yeah?" she suggests. "Ta da. You're Garou, a'ight. What else you are is, you're a Bone Gnawer Cub. Which's one bit shorta your proper introduction. When were you born?"

Renee wraps a blanket around her, before replying. "May 17th, 1987. Why?"

"Sec." The Ragabash returns to the kitchenette, melting back into homid as she moves, and rummages in a drawer or two before retrieving a battered book. A few flips through, to where it falls open naturally and a few pages more, and she runs a finger down the page. "May 17th, '87. Lessee. Oh, just off full, gettin' inta Gibbous. Galliard, then, I'm thinkin'. Galliards, they're th' storytellers, historians, musicians, artists, shit like that. I'm a Ragabash, no moon. We're th' tricksters, scouts, questioners of th' ways. Those're whatcha call Auspices, an' there are five, correspondin' t' th' phases of th' moon in which you're born, see. So my proper introduction, for 'zample, is Bernie Rosenberg, Stomps-Th'-Wyrm-With-Steeltoed-Boots, Cliath Bone Gnawer Ragabash. An' you're Renee, Galliard Bone Gnawer cub. Cub means you're a new garou. Bone Gnawer's your tribe, th' group you b'long to."

"Galliard." The cub tries out the new word, trying to decide whether or not she likes it. "So, thats what I'm supposed to tell people when I meet them?"

"Yes an' no," Bernie echoes her earlier answer, "...see, we're secret. That's th' first thing you gotta know. You never hearda us 'til you found out you were one, right? We need t' keep it that way. Anyone here, they're prolly okay t' tell, an' if they give you an intro like mine jus' then, yeah, that's what you reply with. Anyone down here's =prolly= okay, but you wanna be cagey, anyhow." She pauses, stretches a little. "You're prolly tired by now, yeah? Shiftin' can take a bit outta you t' start, I know. An' I gotta run, anyhow. Th' pizza'll be here, feel free t' eat it or anythin' inna fridge, an' I'll try an' get Kaz or Matt or someone t' come down an' make it so your clothes shift with you, yeah? Maybe I'll come by t'marra, let you come borrow th' shower at my place." This last comment comes with an appraising look at the girl's hair, and it's current state.

Renee nods, face a little drawn as she offers up a smile. She is a little tired, and shifting for the first time is a bit of a mental shock. "Okay." She adjusts the blanket, settling it more comfortably across her shoulders. "A shower would be nice."

"Plan, then," Bernie replies, picking up the still unopened bottle, and returning it to her backpack before returning =that= to her shoulder. "Meantime, you rest. I'll see ya t'marra." She flashes the girl a smile, and heads up the stairs and out.