For Lucia Marino. Sorry about the kind of ramble.. -y post. >.<;; Also sorry if his personality changes a bit... xD; Luperci form. 516~
The singing of birds was the first thing he awoke to. Slowly creeping along was the morning sun, casting rays of light along the ground as the hybrid’s tired turquoise eyes lazily blinked open. One hand was rested along the ground while the other was laid over his worn white tee. He didn’t realize at the moment that he had even been asleep. The morte dre Soul man had been tired enough to pass out underneath a tree till morning came.
His body was cold, colder than he really was used to. Scrunching his upper lip, he shifted forward. His right hand - the one that had been on the forest floor - moved to ruffle his slightly messy black bangs. It smelt of pine, he realized that much. The tired traveler simply wasn’t awake yet.
He kept in a yawn, standing up on his own two feet. It didn’t take long until he realized exactly where he had stopped to sleep for the night. The place was almost too familiar for him. His eyes glanced over, almost expecting someone from the damned pack to be creeping up towards him.
There wasn’t anyone there. Gaël was alone with the clothes on his back and his guitar leaned gently against the tree he spent the night under. Exactly how long had he been asleep? How long had he been… here of all places?
His father’s pack wasn’t far off. An hour or two would leave him at the borders to Phoenix Valley. The place was surely beautiful, he even pondered if it still was. Meeting Maluki there at the borders, however, was something that brought distaste to his mouth. A shiver even ran up his spine thinking about the blurred image of his mother falling with a blood stained coat under the monster he had to call a father.
Yet, ‘Maluki’ didn’t seem alive. Gaël, no, the triplets had been tossed aside like the memory of them didn’t matter to this ‘Jefferson’. He couldn’t help but feel more like this mission was an impossible one now than ever.
His head shook mentally in the attempt to rid himself of those thoughts. He was here again, that was all. Something called him here… the worriment that only older brothers have, perhaps. It had been way too long for his comfort that he’d seen Miriette and Heath. In truth, the last time he had seen them was the meeting with ‘Jefferson’.
Taking in a breath, his eyes drew their attention to his guitar. The instrument was a comfort, something that wouldn’t disappear unless he truly pushed it away. In some ways, it helped him keep calm when thoughts like these riddled in his mind.
His hands gently curled around the guitar, hugging it quietly while the birds continued with their songs. It felt like too long since he had played. He glanced, spotting a rock that seemed a bit uncomfortable for a seat, but it would work. Sitting on the small grey boulder, he relaxed, his guitar sitting in his lap as he started to stroke the horse-hair strings.
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