Jupiter
#4
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Vesper



I said, I cannot follow the river

of her myth; but I can

follow her sweet desert song

like a stream through the fiery hills.

Word Count → 676 :: That's not short, and I don't care about post length. xD Sorry for Vesper's bitchiness, haha.


Vesper was vulnerable and open, somehow, as the music ended on its last, gently quaking note. It was as if the song had sucked some of the anger from her, calmed her volatile spirit, drew her closer. The fact was that listening to something she found she enjoyed had naturally soothed her former aggression, and while the music itself had not been magical, it had sounded close enough due to the skill of the luperci holding the violin and bow. She was mostly amazed because she had never heard something like that before, and the curiosity at odds with her cautious nature made her inch forward again, ears pricked. The chocolate woman was frozen with paws on the instrument, eyes fluttering open, and the moment in itself could have lasted forever as far as the coywolf was concerned.

But perfection never lasted. It was attainable, Ves believed, but something always cracked the moment.

The beautiful woman turned into a happy girl as she grinned, and the snort of another animal made the hybrid flinch, effectively bringing back her stiff posture. She looked to the horse settled down in the dining area of all places, but in the moment she noticed the equine, the violinist noticed her.

There was an awkward pause, both females staring at each other in confusion (and unease on the fighter’s part) before the woman made an exclamation. She seemed to be friends with the horse in the same way as Leigha and Archie—which meant that Ves thought the companionship was ridiculous. Quickly, she proved herself to be just as talkative as the she-wolf she had met in Flanders Field, her personal information bubbling from her mouth.

“...Vesper,” the tawny loner said in response. Her expression was rather aloof and somewhat disapproving, as she didn’t understand why one would blurt out all that information at the beginning of a conversation, if at all. However, she had to admit she was somewhat interested, and she figured if they talked more she’d get explanations. “Where is Hamlet?” she asked, automatically assuming the unfamiliar name was a place by the way it had been presented.

The chocolate and crème wolf went on to introduce her horse Ether, inviting her deeper into the restaurant. She joked happily as she talked on, and the coywolf slowly set foot into the restaurant, her ears back and legs stiff. Part of that was a product of her wounds more than anything, but she inched inside and snorted at the horse. “I’d love to see the day a smelly grass-eater has predator on the menu,” she stated sarcastically, blue eyes narrowing at the beast of burden. Yeah, insulting her seemingly friendly host probably wasn’t the best way to ensure she’d make it back out of this place, but her pain and returning irritation was clouding her mind.

As soon as she’d limped into the dining room, however, Ophelia leaped up from where she’d been sitting and stumbling around like a deer on ice. The motion caused the tense loner to bristle and wrinkle her lips back in warning, but there was no attack; instead, the woman was whimpering about her wounds and panicking and asking a whole host of questions that left Vesper breathless.

“I’m alive,” the coywolf snapped, retreating a step. “Some asshole near Inferni tried his luck with me. None of these wounds are serious, all right? They just sting a bit, and I’m a bit sore.” Her aggression faded, leaving her looking exhausted. “I’ve never needed help. I’ve been worse off.”

That was a lie. While her wounds were very minor, there were several of them, and many emotional scars that weren’t visible. She frowned and looked down at her paws, eyes skipping over the bite marks on her slender legs. The fact of what she had just been snarling struck her in the face, and she looked up at the brown lady with apologetically lowered ears.

“Sorry,” Vesper muttered, scuffing a paw on the floor. “Thanks for your concern, but there’s really nothing you can do.”

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