The wind is violent this morning. It rips its way along the shore, whipping grasses around like mad. The sand is kicked up by mighty gusts and form adolescent tornadoes along the ground. Rough, white capped waters slam onto the beach, tearing land away with foamy fingers; abandon sharp, cracked shells and strand creatures in the tide pools.

Sadah faces this wind with glory. It tosses her hair about like an angry tempest but she stands resolute. Her feet are firm on the shifting sands and her shoulders thrust against the wind. The sun burns hot on her shoulders, guarding her from the chill of a bitter breeze. Though her clothes flutter in a foolish dance, and her papers have long since succumbed to the will of the draught, today is a perfect day.

Her arms are out to embrace the temperamental typhoon. She might not put much faith in gods, but something must have made all this and Sadah's content in her awe.

There were no other members on the beach when Sadah arrived half an hour ago. After a failing struggle with her art supplies, she secured them and turned to forgive the wind. There were a few boards on the surf, but this area was too occupied by grasses for the tourists and sunbathers she supposes.

She hums.

It's a rich, thick tone, rife with memories of her church-going days and the large, sweet women who sang out their souls in the choir. She can't remember the words, but the feeling is so much more important. It's about love, she remembers, and how it lives in the soil and the waters and the sky.

She dug her toes into the sand.

Today is a perfect day.

Sometimes Jay was such a dog. Even in human form he loved to play in the waves when the wind whipped them up. Today, though it's too cold to do this in human form. Instead, he runs along the beach, feeling each droplet soak through his dark black coat and smelling the tang of the salt in the water.

Suddenly something else catches his nose, a scent that he vaguely recognizes. He's never encountered it as a dog - he would remember. That peculiar blend of charcoal, alcohol and... paint? Along with it, he notices she (for she smells of estrogen) is humming. As a human he might have thought it was beautiful, but dogs have no real sense of what music is. Excited at the prospect of a human to play with, he runs over to her, forgetting that he doesn't currently have his "collar id" with him, and she might just as easily turn him over to the pound.

Sadah's a different person when she's alone. She really is. There's no one she needs to parade for. As far as animals go, all they require is to be taken care of and loved and they give you unequivocal love and companionship. Then you can train them to be vicious at the drop of a command. She wishes her apartment allowed pets. She would have dozens. Or at least three.

It's hard to hear much over the scream of the air, but the girl manages to pick up on quick, sandy footsteps and opens her eyes, ceases her humming.

She doesn't take a step back in surprise at the dog barreling its way to her, but she has no idea if it's friendly or not. It doesn't matter, she's not going to be taken down by some dog.

One hand goes up, palm out to signal the dog to stop, the other curls up into a fist in case it doesn't pay attention.

Sadah speaks firmly, "Sit."

Jay is tempted to ignore her, but then remembers she doesn't know who he is. Besides, the dog instinct to do anything that commanding voice said is just too strong. His rear end thumps heavily on the sand. Oh great, he thinks, That's going to take forever to clean up when I get home. As most humans know, no matter how long you spend on the beach you will end up with a large pile of sand on the bathroom floor and Gods knew how you ended up with that much in your suit in the first place. This was a hundred times worse. Still, he couldn't not obey her.

He sits for a few seconds, then decides she really didn't mean it, and besides the dog part of him won't be ignored. He jumps up and licks her hand, then again, because it's covered in salt and it tastes really good.

She only said it to figure out what it would take to control him if he got out of hand. After all, you never know with strange dogs. He's more than proven himself, though, and Sadah can't help but break into a smile when he licks her hand.

"Uuuugh, doggie slobber!" She retaliates by wiping her hand off all over his head.

"Where'd you come from, Puppy?" There's just something about dogs that makes her laugh and giggle and want to snuggle with them. Nice dogs, at least. Rubbing his face and ears is just what she does with dogs, swiping her hand playfully in front of his nose to see if he'll play with her.

Of course she knows he can't answer.

Jay is glad she's accepted him. Even though a small part of his brain is still human, there's nothing he likes better than playing fetch. He barks to show that he has understood her, but can't answer, forgetting she doesn't know that he's not always a dog. He leans into her strokes, loving the attention.

Now that she's proven she'll play, he looks around for a good stick. There's one lying just a few feet away, so he darts over to get it and brings it back, dropping it at her feet.

Oh, can she keep him? Please? She can teach him to be quiet, right? No one'll notice a dog...

Fetch? Oh HELL no.

"No, Puppy. This is called a paintbrush and we don't play with it. Understand?"

She's still happy Sadah, she's not defensive, abrasive Sadah. You just don't mess with her stuff, canine or not. There's something in the grasses, she's sure...ah! A piece of driftwood. It's a short trip to go retrieve it.

"You want the wood? You want it?" What is it about animals and babies that brings out this side in humans? "Go get it!" Off it goes! She's got a pretty good arm.

Jay just slobbers on her more. By now, he's more than 90% dog, and if he doesn't rein himself he's going to have a hard time adjusting to being human again. The tendency to let your tongue hang out and wiggle your butt tends to get noticed when you're standing on two legs.

She throws the stick, and Jay is pretty sure he's in love, or at least the puppy version. He races off to catch it and brings it back to her, dropping it at her feet again.

It's amazing how much you can get engrossed in a single activity. After a few far throws, Sadah switches arms and pretends to throw the stick. If she can trick him, she'll hide the stick in the hem of her pants and under her shirt.

Jay knows better. She fake throws and the dog part of his brain wants to chase it, but the human part holds him in check. Still, he can't help jumping a little when she tries to fake him out. Damn, he thinks, I have got to change back soon.

"Aaah, too smart for me, huh dog? Huh?" She can't resist ruffling his fur and pushing him over so she can rub his belly. Dogs have such rubable bellies.

Jay closes his eyes as she rubs his belly, then opens them, realizing what's happening. That's it, he has to change back. Rolling over he runs off to a nearby outcrop of rocks where he's hidden his clothes. He'll change skins and then come back. She seems much friendlier today, and though he's come out here to be alone, he won't mind the company.

Well, it was fun while it lasted, she supposes. Sadah knows she really doesn't have occasion to be disappointed, he's a stray dog. He probably ran away from someone just like her.

Oh well.

Back to art.

The wind is still in force. Sadah's planning on using it. Tape's pretty effective, even against the toughest wind once you get it adhered to something, so in combination with her drawing board, her paper's not going anywhere. Her inks will, however, and that's what she's counting on.

It's going to be glorious.

Jay finds his clothes behind a nearby rock and changes. He rolls his neck around a bit - it's always hard to get used to being able to turn your head. His ear itches and he raises a leg to scratch it, then remembers and stands up doing things the proper human way. His clothes feel a bit restricting after the waves and the sand on his skin, but they're necessary in human form. Taking his shoes in his hand, he walks over to Sadah.

"Hey there," he calls, "Fancy running into you here." He carefully avoids wagging his butt like a tail.

Oh. Well it had been a perfect day. Sadah's contented disposition drops to one of slight boredom. She wants to get on with her work, and now she won't be able to. Not to mention that this guy is ridiculously clingy. Well, at least he seemed so last time she saw him. Maybe she can...no. He's a policeman. The farther he is from the Triskele during her business hours, the better.

However, she's not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, and Sadah's got a few questions boiling beneath the surface.

"So I've always wondered: is there a separate set of laws for the initiated community. And if there is, why haven't I heard of it yet?"

A lonely seashell is the recipient of Sadah's ire and gets tossed roughly into the wind. The resistance doesn't let it get very far. This failure causes her to scowl.

Woah, woah wait, hold up! he thinks. Bells and whistles and red flags are going up all over the place. If she's not careful she is going to have one very angry weredog, who might choose to remember that he's a copper and she's practically admitted to doing things that aren't exactly legal.

"Excuse me?" he asks, "Initiate community? Is that some sort of gang?" Feigning ignorance might get her to back down, or at least remind her that coming right out and saying something like that is way out-of-bounds.

Admit? When did she admit? She hasn't done a single thing of that ilk. She's just curious. And now that Jay's here, she's annoyed. Now that he's opened up his big mouth, she's even more annoyed. She thought they got past all that rubbish last time she saw him. Apparently not.

"Drop the act, alright, Jay?" He should feel privileged that she's remembered his name. She normally doesn't. "You've been to the Triskele before, don't give me that 'gang' shit."

Inks of every color are being pulled out of her bag and set in the sand. Wiping the dog spit off of her paint brush again, she unscrews a bright, bright green and goes on harnessing the wind to do her painting for her.

"Right, sorry." He'd forgotten that bit of the conversation. "Only once. Or maybe twice, I can't quite remember." He steps a little closer and then sits on the sand. "Well then. Um. No. Well, not exactly. I mean -" he's having trouble figuring out how to explain it. "Well, basically, there's only one extra law for them - Not letting out the secret. Usually though, I'm after them for the usual stuff, anything from petty theft to murder. The only difference is how they do it. Usually." And how they avoid capture but that's only because he's on the squad.

"I'm sorry, but have I done something to offend you?" he asks hesitantly. He's not sure he really wants to know, but at the same time he has to ask to give her a chance to tell him to go away.

What, besides breathe?

Sadah shakes her head under the pretense of getting her hair out of her eyes. When did she start being so vindictive? Well..alright, why did it get so bad? She knows, and she knows she's being childish and immature, but it's easier to continue acting that way than acknowledge she's been wrong all these months. Besides, she doesn't want people close to her anyway.

Despite any antisocial desires, Sadah can't deny her behavior when it's brought so clearly to her attention.

She sighs.

"No." Except insult my intelligence? And since when is it against the law to tell someone about magic, anyway? "I was born with a chip on my shoulder, what can I say?"

Oh, denial...you're not a river in Egypt.

Jay didn't mean to insult Sadah's intelligence, he really didn't. The thing is his memory is absolutely awful. No kidding. You know the way a dog is, where he loves to play fetch, right up until he sees a squirrel off in the distance and the only thing to do is chase it, right up until a nice fast cat crosses his path, and it's only once he's treed the cat that he remembers he was playing fetch in the first place? Yeah, well, that sort of attention span doesn't do any good for the memory. He had honestly forgotten that he told her he'd been to the Triskele.

"Ah, well in that case, I have been warned and all future snubbing shall be considered firmly my fault for trying." Did I mention that he's slightly passive aggressive and rather blunt too?

If Jay knew what Sadah was thinking, he might explain to her that there wasn't exactly a law against telling people about magic - what court could you try them in? - but his innish superiors encourage him to dissuade them when the opportunity arose, especially the ones that seem like they were going to be trouble. In extreme cases, he was authorized to take... rather final action if the threat became too great. But "law" is the easiest way to explain it to someone not on the force, and from what he'd seen of Sadah a long explanation would be cut off by a snide remark about being as boring as watching paint dry or some such.

Watching paint dry is never fun. Especially oils. Those things take goddamn forever and the best thing Sadah ever did was drop the class. Watching ink dry, on the other hand, takes considerably less time. Calmed by the act of the art she's making, Sadah finds it in her heart to smile at his comment. Not very much, really, just a quirk at the corner of her lips and a slight dimple in the side of her cheek.

"Exactly," she answers. It's not quite as rude as it could be, though. Mirth is peeking its head out from behind the big, bad connotation self righteousness.

In an instant Sadah feels uncomfortable. She didn't come out here to enjoy anyone's company--This is ridiculous, and she sets the thought firmly aside.

Jay catches the quirk of a smile and smiles himself. Obviously this is the way to get through her crusty shell - sarcastic humor and self-deprecation. He's having a little trouble coming up with a suitably sarcastic question to keep the conversation going, however so instead he asks: "Did you finish your sculpture?" Maybe talking about the work she seems to enjoy so much will encourage her to open up a bit.

Sarcastic humor's one thing, but go easy on the self depreciation. Go too far with it and Sadah will walk all over you like the rug she believes you are.

She screws the top onto her ink bottle tight and pulls up a different color. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Shipped it to Quebec last week." There's no need to say more, in her book. She has learned to be concise.

"Oh," he says, unsure of where to go if she won't hold up her end of the conversation, "You trying to sell it?" He looks around desperate for some inspiration for conversation.

"Sold it before I started on it. 'Sorta how commissions work. This guy wanted something for the front of his organic foods store. I don't know how he got my name but if he passes it on I won't complain."

Sadah feels like he's stretching. Jay always seems to be stretching in her book. Not that she's known him long enough for 'always.' Her mental eyes roll so she decides to contribute.

"It's a pretty crappy day outside for a walk. So do you like the hurricane force winds or what?"

"Yes, actually I do. There's a kind of beauty in the raw force of nature." Now that he's not wearing fur, he realizes that it really is fairly cold out. Still, the feel of the fresh breeze on his face is worth it. "How about you?" he asks, " Gale force winds aren't necessarily the best for painting."

"That's the point. And it's not paint, it's ink. There's a pretty significant difference in their viscosity. Paint would never fly like this."

Basically, what Sadah's doing is glorified splatter. She's just doing little things to try and tweak the direction like changing how her paper's situated in the wind.

"Plus," she shrugs, raising her voice over a particularly strong gust, "Most people don't come out on days like this. It's peaceful, quiet...well, mostly quiet," indicating the wind.

Her hair probably looks really ridiculous by now. She doesn't care.

"I know. I like it better that way though." He's not quite sure what she means by viscosity, but he's certainly seemed to use up his parcel of stupid for the day, so he's not going to ask. "I'm not really a people person. Though - you probably don't think that, huh. Probably looks like I'm following you, huh? I'm not I promise." He smiles, hoping she doesn't take it the wrong way.

Did he really just...? Sadah almost can't help narrowing her eyes. She does believe him, but at the same time any person stalking her would be a bad thing. Much less, a stalker with a police badge is crazy worse. Some things she trades may seem completely innocuous to the uninitiated so there really aren't laws regulating them, but precious artifacts and stolen goods are illegal no matter how magical they happen to be.

What she doesn't want, though, is to give him the wrong impression so she laughs and turns to give him a wry smile, "Spoken straight out of the Stalker's Handbook."

He laughs unreservedly. Just the sort of thing he expected her to say.

"It's funny," he explains, "See this once, we caught a guy who actually had one. A Stalker's handbook, I mean. The man was obviously really bad at stalking, and really naive on top of that. So somebody tried to sell him a manual on how to stalk someone and the idiot actually bought it. He kept it in his jacket pocket." Jay really hopes she finds this funny because he thinks it's hilarious. He calms down a bit, but is still smiling broadly.