She had a lot of love to give

Itachi Lykoi · 01-01-2011, 06:16 AM

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Lush gold danced in the horizon now, and the young hybrid’s gaze was as captivated as ever as he watched colours battle and change into lovely, impossible hues while the rest of the world couldn’t. The light of day would soon go to sleep, but the Lykoi male’s day had barely begun, in truth. Itachi’s flawed sleeping pattern was adjusted to his likings, and he believed he belonged to the night. When the day stood on top of the sky dressed in beautiful blue instead of the velvet shade, the youth was usually found within one of the caves, slumbering peacefully for a few precious hours. Truth be told, he only got a few hours here and there, scattered and unorganized. It worked however, and that was what counted. The young male had, as usual, travelled away from the depths of the caves until he had nothing but the blushing sky above him. The rest of Anathema could stay within the mountains for what he cared, but Itachi refused to fall in with the rest. It was not to display disobedience in any way—no, Itachi wouldn’t do anything to displease the palling D’Angelo with the captivating eyes—but living under the surface was not enough for him. He was a wild animal after all, and he needed the stars’ gentle caress upon his back as he travelled through the nights that served him as his days, more or less.

His insides twisted and churned somewhat, and the uncomfortable stirring within his innards reminded him of his defeat, though there was little he could do about it at time being. Itachi was young and without a whole lot of practise at hunting prey to meet the requirements his growing body had. He had been served a golden opportunity earlier today, sneaking up on a hare. The small animal had been skinny and unhealthy, but he had only recognized it as tasty meat. This had not majorly improved the young boy’s chances, and he had failed at pouncing on it before he was discovered. He had been slow and too careful, and it had resulted badly. The scrawny thing had hopped away on quick feet and after a moment or two of pursuit, Itachi had accepted that there was no way he would be able to take down the lithe creature. Disappointment still roared within the proud little hybrid of Anathema, but there was not any rage. He easily accepted his flaws, but it was not without a bittersweet taste on his tongue he did so. It still lingered heavy in his mouth, and he ached to replace it with blood and juicy meat. Unfortunately there wasn’t any he could wash it down with, and his stomach growled with dissatisfaction. It was a very uncomfortable feeling, but as long as he couldn’t do anything to make it better, he just had to accept it. There was nothing else to do about it.

It was possible, of course, to go and perhaps try to beg for something from the many adults that were a part of his pack, but he was reluctant to do so straight away. Itachi could be considered an orphan, and no one had risen to properly tuck him under their wings. Could they see the contamination within him as well? He was too young to be a brilliant actor; too young to be able to manipulate the world around him to perceive him differently. He remained a very strange child, but at least they were unaware of his secret—that dirty little secret that marked him as a murdered. He was capable of so much, but he did not know if the mental abilities he possessed—or lacked—could be perceived as favourable here. Naniko was a constant in his world, but he did not wish to lean on her. He sought independency, but it was hard at such a young age. The fact that he was here proved just that, for it had only taken him a day as an outcast to search for the woman and find that her dreams had materialized into this pack. She had welcomed him, and he had been relieved to know that he had somewhere he could belong again. Whether or not this could become the home he approved of remained to be seen, but he knew that was something he had to deal with. It was he that decided what was worthwhile and valuable in his life, and though it was not yet, he believed that Anathema would eventually matter to him.

Rocks, coated by fine layers of untouched snow cracked gently under his pale paws as the young Lykoi continued to investigate the surface of his home. He was tired of wandering through the dark tunnels, for they looked more or less the same. Dark without the option to turn and look up to the sky. In the caves there was only dark rock above his head, and while this was not claustrophobia, he knew with certainty that he would never learn to like it. The feeling of being trapped, stone coldly glaring at him from every side. It just wasn’t natural. A dying twig of a baby tree was wrenched free by the hybrid’s young jaws, and he shook his blonde head as jaws remained clenched against the crispy wood. The male titled his head and let the twig’s end sink into the snowy ground and drew a line. It served as temporary entertainment for now, at least, and helped him move his focus elsewhere than his grumpy belly. The drawings he carved into the pale white, frozen water held no forms or purpose, but it ate his attention anyway. Itachi was bored. Perhaps things would be more bearable when the sun fully sunk away and let the darkness reclaim his surroundings. The lack of light always seemed to soothe the young boy somewhat, and he could imagine different scenes in the dark instead of this rocky, unfruitful territory.

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