in the end we still pretend.

Harlowe D'Angelo · 08-10-2010, 12:02 AM

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Word Count :: 404 Oh shit, I messed up our trend by only replying like TEN DAYS later, WOOOOOOOOT. >_> But seriously, this is a one time thing, lady. I promise. By the time we finish this thread, Ehno will have been dead for at least three years and Harlowe will be an old, old man.

There was something wrong with the awkward and gangly youth besides, and it was hardly a secret—he hadn't uttered a word to anyone outside of his immediate family before he turned six months old. Though his speech development seemed relatively normal, he simply refused to speak to anyone outside of his mother, father, and sisters. If he had known his half-siblings or cousins or aunts better, maybe they would have been included with this, but as it were, Harlowe had only spoken to five canines prior to the first words he spoke to Cerridwyn in Phoenix Valley.

His father spoke reassuringly, and Harlowe seemed pleased by this, brightening considerably. Later, he would think about this and come to the conclusion that he had in fact done well; as this was the first time he'd traveled this far from home on his own, he had come damn close. Even so, he would also know well was not enough—he could not simply do well for Larkspur. Such a thing would earn him nothing. To unlock the secrets behind that sable-furred skull, the tawny-furred youth had to be perfect. “I'm glad you found me. I probably would have kept walking in that direction,” he said, eeriely calm about possibly ending up on the very edge of the peninsula, hopelessly far from his Valley home.

The discrepancy of form had not even occurred to Harlowe until his father shifted; he was so used to his Optime form by now that he hardly remembered he had a lupus form, except when he was hungry. He couldn't hunt jack in his two-legged morph; to catch even so much as an injured and unfortunate creature, he required all four limbs on the ground. He smiled almost awkwardly, seemingly uncomfortable that his father had found it necessary to change form to match his own. He had not wished to impose.

“I think so. It's strange without Mother around,” he admitted, fidgeting and shifting his weight. He did not want his father to think he was incapable of caring for the family. “We're okay, though,” he said, reassuring him of this. Harlowe was sure he was fine, but he was not so certain about his sisters—he had not seen Lucia or Caprica in quite some time. Rio had seemed alright when they spoke at the cabin, though they did not touch on the subject of their mother and her departure.

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