Cathy arrives a little after noon. She is short and dark like her mother, and she blushes her way through the introduction, turning red as she offers Clint a belated head-tilt, and escaping as quickly as she can to drag Caroline up to the bedrooms.

"She'll warm up to you," Becca assures him after Phil has joined Josie in the kitchen, preparing for the feast. "She's just a little unsure of her place right now. Not really a pup anymore, but not quite an adult either." Clint nods in acceptance, although he can't really relate. He hasn't really been a pup since he was about twelve.

"Should we wait?" he asks, "let her get settled first?" Becca shakes her head.

"She'd just feel worse if she thought we were postponing for her. She'll be fine. She loves Phil. She's wanted this - we all have - for years. She'll love you too because you make Phil happy. She just needs time to get comfortable with you." Becca smiles up at Clint. "Haven't said thank you yet, have I?" she asks, "for getting Phil to agree to be Turned?" Clint shakes his head.

"I didn't do anything," he protests. "I mean, obviously I'm thrilled, but I never asked him. I wouldn't." Becca shrugs.

"Maybe not, but he's only willing to do it because of you. I've been worried," she admits, drifting over to one of the chairs in Karl's study. "I want my brother around for a long time, so thank you for making that more probable. I don't know the details of what you guys do, but I know it's dangerous. It eases my mind to know that he'll be less likely to get himself killed now." Clint grins.

"You and me both," he says.

"You ever attended a Turning before, Clint?" Becca asks. Clint shakes his head, grimacing.

"Saw the aftermath of a few forced Turnings," he says with a wince. "Not pretty." Becca sighs.

"The more I hear about this pack you grew up with the more I want to slaughter them all."

"It was really just Duquesne and Chisolm who were the problem. And the thugs they Turned and controlled. The rest of the pack were mostly like me and my brother - ex-Lones who got suckered in with pretty promises."

"What happened to them after you were left behind?" Becca asks.

"No idea," Clint replies. "Not sure I want to know." Thankfully Phil's sister doesn't push any further.

"Tonight won't be like those Turnings you saw before, you know that, right?" Clint nods.

"I assumed," he says with a half-smile. "Don't think any of you'd agree if it was."

"Of course not," Becca agrees with a smile. "Some packs make a big production of it, but, as you've seen already, we don't hold much with ceremony here. The Bite is the easy part, then a big feast to give Phil the fuel he needs for the Change, the main course of which you so helpfully caught yesterday." Becca grins, and Clint's ears turn red. He still thinks Frank and Emmett should take more credit for that one. Just because he'd gotten in the killing hold doesn't mean he could have done it without them.

Even after all this time working with Phil, Clint's still not really used to or comfortable with praise. If he sticks around he'll have to get used to it, he muses. After all, this pack seems really big on positive reinforcement.

"Anyway," Becca says, standing, "I'm gonna go check on Cathy and Caroline. Don't worry too much about tonight. It'll all go fine, I'm sure."

After she leaves, Clint leans back in the plush chair and closes his eyes, using his nose to figure out where Phil is. There's nothing but faint echoes in the house, so Clint figures he must be outside with the pups. Clint pushes himself out of the chair with a groan, stretching. He'd spent more time awake than asleep last night, vibrating with a mixture of nerves and anticipation. Phil, of course, had slept like a log.

Speaking of whom . . . Clint leaves the study and heads through the kitchen to the back door. Through the screen he can see Phil sitting on one of the chaises, the boys in human form for once, curled into his side as he reads to them from some brightly-coloured children's book.

As if sensing his presence, Phil looks up, and when his eyes catch Clint's through the doorway they brighten like the sun coming from behind the clouds. And there Phil goes again, bringing all of Clint's cheesy romantic impulses to the fore. Clint wastes half a thought to being disgusted with himself for all the sappy thoughts he's been having lately, but decides it's not worth it. Instead he opens the screen door and steps outside, moving quietly over to the chaise where Phil is sitting and settling himself down behind his Mate and leaning forward to rest his chest against Phil's back, his chin over Phil's shoulder, looking down at the book in Phil's hand, recognizing Dr. Seuss from the illustrations, but not able to place which book it is.

The pups look up at Clint, momentarily distracted from the book, and Aiden leaves Phil's side to curl up against Clint's leg. Clint places a large hand against the little boy's back as Phil pauses in his reading to rub his nose against Clint's cheek.

With Phil's warmth against his front and Aiden cuddled up to his thigh, Clint sighs in content as Phil turns back to the book.

"All that late afternoon and far into the night that black-bottomed bird flapped his wings in fast flight, while Horton chased after, with groans, over stones that tattered his toenails and battered his bones, and begged, "Please don't harm all my little folks, who have as much right to live as us bigger folks do!"" Phil's voice is soft and comforting, and as Clint cuddles up to his Mate and his sort-of nephews, he thinks that he's never been so happy before in his life.