no prayer i could say

Harlowe D'Angelo · 12-04-2010, 07:56 AM

[html]

Word Count :: 461 Hahar, Harlowe is so dummmb.

He was aware there were others all around -- the youth hadn't really had any time totally to himself, which had been alright for the first few days, but now was beginning to grate on his nerves. He wanted to find his own space somewhere, somewhere, where he could rid himself of these awful goddamn thoughts. Even so, the chocolate-tinted werewolf knew how badly he had wanted this. These were the sorts of people Larkspur talked about, the mystery of his mother's past. He was certain he would find whatever it was he needed here, and he was determined to make that work. So as the mother and child bounded toward him, Harlowe did not flinch away, but he turned toward them and placed on his mouth an awkward smile, unchanging as the puppy fell.

“Yes. I was born last year in the fall -- one year and three months,” he explained. “What did she say about me?” he asked, honestly curious -- the youth did not think his mother cared very much about him right now. He failed to see her preoccupation with the Anathema pack's set-up, and he was convinced her lack of attention was due to some fault of his own. He had plenty of reason to think it was his fault, after all -- he had done some pretty awful things in her absence.

“That would make you my aunt, and this is my cousin, then,” he said, knowing the words for this. It was disappointing -- he had aunts and cousins on his father's side; he wanted grand-aunts and grand-parents and everyone who might know the history of his blood. He did not discount that Selene would know something, however, and he rolled his shoulder in a shrug. “Larkspur is the only other one I know of here,” he said, uncertainly. Larkspur was the only one he had not seen within Anathema, anyway.

As another canine meandered toward them, Harlowe was taken by her appearance -- there was some sort of flowy, lovely garmet about her body. Harlowe had seemingly forgotten about the incident in the library with the woman who wore a similar outfit; this time, he found it a rather nice look, and his olive-shaded eyes followed the stranger as she walked forward. She was petite and, although not entirely pale-shaded as he seemed to prefer, light of fur. As the woman settled down, she spoke, and shame flooded through the pale boy -- this was his cousin, then? He shut his notebook, packing it away into his bag, and took a second to regain his composure, turning back toward the pair with another awkward smile. “It's good to be here with everyone. I didn't know I had such a vast family,” he said.

Login




Remember me Lost Password?