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ooc A thousand apologies but this post completely lacks any semblance of elegance. It is 4:40 AM here and I am still trying to oil the gears back up. Hope it's manageable! I will smooth out again real soon, promise. Just wanted to make sure this got up. ^_^ WC 909
This was one of the most exciting things Orin had ever done… although grant it, everything Orin was doing at the time was, to her, the most exciting thing she had ever done. Her brief trip to Cour des Miracles had landed her in the presence of a friend, someone she had shared a particularly special experience with when she lived in the Court and had discovered the costume shop. There were few others excepting Niro that she could ever remember having so much fun with, and since that day she found herself drawn to Mars Russo. They were kindred spirits, both a little quirky and misunderstood, and that is what brought them together.
She had never ridden on horseback before! The stallion, Vox, was with Mars the day the two had met, but the pair wandered off without the steed that day, and before coming to the northern lands Orin had never even seen a horse – or any other livestock for that matter - in person. He was an impressive beast and Orin took to him at once, accepting him as though he was just another part of Mars (for they had been together every time Orin had run into him), and fancying the stallion for being such a close connection to the great mounts that the knights rode in the novels she so cherished. When the trio (the two Luperci and the stallion) departed from the Court that day, Orin was a little shaky riding on Vox’s back, and at first her excitement caused her to clamp her arms mercilessly around Mars’s chest, constricting him with a strength the belied the woman’s small stature. Yet it did not take long for Orin to ease up, gain trust in the creature, and loosen her death grip on its master.
Orin’s pride swelled with every soft crunch of the horse’s hooves in the powdery snow below. There was something to be said about traveling the country on horseback. She had been delighted when Mars offered her the opportunity to join him in his perch rather than lead or trot alongside on their trek to Cercatori D’Arte. Not only did they have a budding friendship, but Mars trusted and respected the woman enough to allow her to travel with him on his magnificent steed. What’s more, he asked her to carry his precious guitar as he could not with her at his back. This was important, and Orin was not about to shirk her duties. Despite her frequently roving mind she watched the landscape diligently and gave concise directions when needed. The last time she had seen this terrain she had been at a full sprint, excited about her trip to Cour des Miracles to see her brother, but she still recognized this land easily. Vox was quicker and more efficient in his march than she had suspected; they had already arrived at the border of the art pack lands.
When Vox stopped unexpected, Orin jerked forward slightly into Mars’s back. She uttered a small noise and fretted for a moment that the animal was broken, but a nudge from Mars got the stallion moving again. She spared her grip around Mars’s midsection long enough to adjust the guitar that was slung over her shoulder, then pointed towards a colorful landmark across the way.
“Look there, that’s the rock the members of Cercatori D’Arte decorated upon the pack’s founding,” the monument was off in the distance and too faint to make out any details. Orin moved her hand and motioned another direction. “I live in the town of Thornbury, this way. My bookstore is in the middle of the shopping square. If we go to the town Shawchert or Skye are bound to be there. Is Vox too tired?” She had already explained earlier to Mars that Shawchert and Skye were the non-mated, coed leaders of the pack. They both resided in the town, too, though in the residential district. Luckily, it was a small town, and Vox would be able to relax soon.
She watched the land around them as the horse took them through the pack lands towards Thornbury, ready to highlight any more monuments, but to her dismay the path did not cross any. Mars had been pleasantly attracted by her description of Cercatori – so much so that he packed up and returned to D’Arte with her the same night they had run into each other in Lunenburg – and she hoped the pack would impress him so he would stay. She was faithful that he would be accepted into the pack. Orin was blind to Mars’s idiosyncrasies, and the man was talented with the guitar and his ability to sew and in her mind would be an asset to the talents of the pack.
As soon as they moved from the wooded area into the more open yet heavily vegetated area that marked the edge of the town, Orin’s excitement began to wax. Her enthusiasm showed in the slight twitch of her arms clasped around Mars, and the sudden liveliness of her tail. “This is Thornbury!” she blurted. “My shop is beyond that row of housing.“ She pointed. “And if we go that way,” she pointed again, “we’ll be at the Capitain’s house.”
With that she tipped her head back and let out a long, mirthful howl, letting her pack know that she had brought a friend into the land and requested the presence of a leader.