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ooc I am in nerdlove with this thread. WC 1,009
“Hmm…” She pondered Mars’s question for a moment before shaking her head no. “I know Thornbury the best, but I don’t know of any sort of stables or anything here. There is a hunting lodge on our land that I came across once… I don’t remember seeing any, but it might have something you could use. Good news is, though, that most of the stores have been well sealed up and still have a lot of usable wood, or at least some things you could use until it warms up enough to cut and dry wood to build one out of. Not many members have pets or livestock that I know of. Shawchert or Skye might be able to tell you better.”
She trailed off when she spotted the house off in the distance. This one she knew was Skye Collins’s house, and just past the residence she could see the patch of garden that the Secondo Capitano tended even throughout the chill of winter. Somehow, Skye’s green thumb kept these plants growing despite the cold and snow. The woman explained to Orin once that it was just a matter of keeping the crops fed, warm, and the beds cleared. She admired the woman for her talent and resilience.
And as though her thoughts alone summoned the woman (never mind the fact that Vox’s hooves made a prominent clop or that Orin had called out a moment before), Skye emerged from the house before them. Orin smiled to her leader when she spotted her at the threshold, and gave a fervent wave of her hand.
“Hello Skye! You’re just the woman I was looking for,” she grinned. “This is my friend from Cour des Miracles.” The stallion had stopped his lope and Mars had made a motion indicating that he would help her down, so she paused a moment in her banter to slide her legs over Vox’s back and be lowered down with Mars’s assistance. She was so short and unskilled on horseback that it took her longer to reach the ground than a normal horseman, and her legs swung free for a moment, searching for the ground, before her foot-paws dropped into the snow. Although it was a graceless and unpracticed thing she was doing, she somehow managed to add a fluidity to it that abated her awkwardness. With a swish of her tail and wave of her arm, she silently thanked Mars for the help, and then moved out of the way so he could dismount.
Mars’s dismount was much more swift and deft than her own, and he certainly did not need any assistance in the matter. He was already off the stallion’s back by the time the Takekuro woman had turned back to her leader. Most Luperci towered over her, and she was used to it, but sometimes being around Skye who was on the shorter side as well came as a bit of a relief. She was only a couple inches shorter than her leader. She smiled and was about to explain, but Mars interjected with his measured introduction, so she stopped. She waited as her friend introduced himself, and she could not help but feel a pang of embarrassment for him – for something in the introduction seemed forced and unnatural. She wondered if he or Skye felt that way, too. Orin had never seen Mars around anyone else, but did not suspect that was the matter. Rather, she assumed her description of the pack had been alluring and that admittance into Cercatori D’Arte was important to him. And with that, she felt a surge of pride.
She was a little lost in thought and caught by surprise when Mars turned to her and held out his hands for his guitar, but luckily she had been listening and did not drop the ball. Orin’s delicate fingers quickly snatched the strap of the guitar that was slung over her shoulders and slipped the instrument off her back – careful not to touch the strings or risk detuning it. (She knew little about instruments, but she knew enough not to apply pressure to the strings when it wasn’t necessary.) She spoke to Skye as she gave the guitar back to its owner.
“I just took a short trip back to the Court to visit my brother when I ran into Mars. I was telling him about where I had been and how much I love this place; how I fit in here better than I ever did in the Court – no offense to them – and, well, I thought he would fit in well here, too. Mars is an artist also, as you can see. He plays beautifully, and he knows about fashion and costuming.” She grinned, and accidentally blurted the next part. “He could help me with the show! Or, us with the show, I mean. Imagine how much better our performances would be with beautiful costumes?” She glanced back at Mars, oblivious to the fact that she just volunteered him for a task that he had not agreed to yet. Her smile broadened at the thought, and her honey colored eyes took on a far away look as she dreamed about just how much better a pack performance could become.
She laughed and splayed her arms out wide, swaying from side to side for a moment to a tune that wasn’t there. “I want to dance dripping in fabric and gems.” Orin was certainly more talented at writing, but her tiny body seemed to have enough energy at times to power a Luperci as big as Shawchert for a week, and she loved to dance. Somehow, she always ended up dancing when Mars was around, too. Of course, for once, Orin restrained herself to the gentle swaying just to illustrate an example of what she meant, and at least did not break out into full step. After a moment her movements slowed and she paused, turning her gaze to the Russo man and stepping out of the limelight so he could demonstrate his musical talents.