no prayer i could say

Harlowe D'Angelo · 01-01-2011, 10:03 AM

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Word Count :: 426 derp!

The pale-furred child youth was fascinated by what the woman had to say -- Harlowe did not know much about his own mother. She had never spoken extensively at family, and the boy did not understand the tumultuous time in which he'd been born. He knew nothing of Twilight Vale and Crimson Dreams, let alone the things before -- Chimera was a foreign word in its entirety to the boy, yet it was the place his mother had been born and lived. “I didn't understand why she left,” he confessed quietly, peering to the ground.

“But more than anything I am happy she has returned here. I am happy to be with her again,” the boy said, though the flatness of his tone might have indicated otherwise. This was merely Harlowe's manner of speaking, however. “Larkspur told me a little bit about this family. There are so many of us,” he said, sounding genuinely impressed. “Where did we all come from?” he wondered aloud. There was a rare comfort with this woman -- perhaps it was her similarity to his mother in appearance, but Harlowe had become far more comfortable around her than he usually did in such a short span of time.

A sound interrupted them, and Harlowe looked aorund in bewilderment in time to catch the coal-streaked form of his brother barrelling toward their gathering. He came to a stop and peered straight at Harlowe himself, who blankly returned the boy's reddish gaze. There was no similarity to Naniko in the youth, and so Harlowe was indifferent to the sable-shaded puppy. He would have gone back to speaking with the adults had the boy not made himself known immediately, seating himself right in front of the chocolate-tipped man and demanding attention.

Looking down his dark snout toward his younger brother, Harlowe smiled, though it was one devoid of any warm emotion whatsoever. “Something like our Uncle, I think. I don't know the word for it,” he said, glancing toward Selene and Demi to see if they had any input on these words. He doubted it -- Harlowe considered himself the most educated canine in a large radius, and he had yet to meet someone actually able to surpass him in terms of intelligence. Of course, the boy did not consider that intelligence was not merely one's ability to regurgitate information from books.

The youth had missed the departing words of his cousin, but he looked up in time to watch her retreat, greenish eyes curiously studying her form as she walked away from them.

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