Don't read too much into it
#1
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ooc: Wheeee!

The nostrils of the great beast flared, the icy air billowing around her face as she exhaled. She tread through various plant-life, holding the familiar scents of the pack that was close by. It was the only pack she could even remotely feel home to, with her friends being the leaders. But Malachi wasn't all too sure if other members, whom she had yet to meet, would express the same welcoming gestures. She was still a loner, after all, but the large, furry female didn't want to live like that for much longer. 'Baby steps..' she said to herself, even physically taking smaller steps as she walked straight ahead.

As if mother nature had known what she was thinking, the path opened up for Mala and the sun shone through clearly, despite the cold. Malachi scented the wolves of Cercatori d'Arte even stronger now, and she blinked as that sliver of green shone through her eyes in the daylight. When she could see clearly, what Mala saw before her was more shocking than entering into pack territory. A vast array of human homes, everything built from wood to stone, surrounded her vision. Some were old and worn down, but others looked to be newer, as if someone had come in recently and made a living for themselves.

"Wow," was all that she could manage to breathe out. So Skye was right after all, these humans had built homes when they existed - it wasn't Luperci who invented them. Still, they were strange to her, and the shaggy creature only managed to take a few steps and look around. The female was far too awe-struck to really move. She did remember Shaw and Skye showing her around the territory a little while back, but she was more comfortable around the company of friends. Now, alone, she looked at these buildings in a new light. That was when she began to question if the wolves that belonged here preferred to use these once-human homes, and, though it was a fleeting thought, if she might find one big enough for her. 'No, don't be silly Mala. This isn't your home,' the beast would say to herself. 'You might have been welcomed here, but you certainly aren't part of it.

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#2
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ooc: OOC Sorry it took me a little bit to respond. Finals and all! <3 (5 points)

The petite Luperci whistled merrily to herself as she strolled across one of the Thornbury squares with an armload of wooden planks that she pilfered from another shop that she had deemed no longer needed them. Her steps were brisk as she strode over the tightly packed blanket of snow, leaving behind small foot-paw prints in her path. She was so wrapped up with her task and thinking about the strange tale she read last night that at first she did not even notice the large creature standing off in the distance, but it was not long until Orin’s path changed and turned her to face the bear. She took a couple more steps, then stopped abruptly once she realized the creature ahead of her was not another Luperci. She dropped her wood pile.


For a moment she just froze and squinted, peering at Malachi and trying to focus. Surely she was just seeing this wrong – or perhaps it was just an overweight individual... though she had yet to meet an overweight Luperci, she had read plenty of human literature about how to maintain your weight, how to lose weight, how to look like a model, how to cut 20 pounds in 10 days... it all seemed very preposterous to her. The humans used to have some funny little obsessions.


No, she finally decided. This was not a Luperci who needed to meet a woman named Jenny Craig... whoever that was... This was not even a Luperci at all!


Her face suddenly mutated into a look of pure shock and her hands flew up to her mouth to conceal the excited little squeak she made. It’s a... a bear! But... what do you do when you see a bear? Orin had no idea. She had never met one in real life and had no idea what the proper etiquette was, but she did know that in most of the old books she read a bear was something to run from. Climb a tree. Play dead. Swat it on the nose. What? Hmm... running through her mental catalog of bear literature she could remember one story about a bear in particular who could talk to the other animals and to one human boy. This bear was yellow and had an affinity for honey; he also wore human clothing, lived in a tree, and got into all sorts of sticky situations. Orin cocked her head, thinking for a moment, then made up her mind.


She decided this bear must be like the little yellow one she had read about. After all, it hadn’t charged at her yet. She glanced around for something to offer it and found a simple rock that had been polished by the snow. It was not a great offering, but a gift was a gift. So she cautiously began to approach the creature, holding the rock out in front of her in peace.


“H... hi there!” She paused for a moment, hoping that she and the bear spoke the same language. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any honey.”

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#3
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ooc: That's okay, I understand! <3

The creature became more startled to the sudden appearance of a white wolf, and for a second thought it might have been a familiar face. This wolf had pink hair, though, and was carrying a bunch of wood in her arms. Mala cocked her head a bit, but didn't move. "H-hello! Do you need some help?" But it seemed as if her question surprised the other female, who then dropped the load of wood. A look of hurt flashed in Malachi's honey-colored eyes, and she lifted a paw almost subconsciously. She dared herself to take a big lumbering step forward, crunching into the snow that surrounded the area. But then she froze, seeing that the white Luperci cried out a bit in shock.

Was she not welcome? Did she have to leave? Mala opened her cream furred muzzle to speak, but nothing came out, and so she looked downwards. "I'm sorry if I interrupted anything. I'm--" But her words were cut short, as she suddenly saw the white wolf approach and present her with a rock. Confusion distorted the great beast's face. "Honey? How did you know I like that?" This encounter was strange indeed, and Mala huffed in confusion into the frost-filled air. "I seem to be the only wolf who likes it.." The brown creature whispered under her breath. Mala shook her large head at the female before. "I don't- I mean- Thank you," was all that she could say, as she carefully picked up the rock in her mouth and set it down between her own two big feet. Back in her tribe, gifts of welcome were customary, though Malachi found it strange that this wolf was here giving her one, when they hardly knew one another. Still, despite all that, it was a sign of welcome, and the great ball of fuzz grinned.

"There was no need for gifts. I'm Malachi, oqoti to Shawchert and Skye," she clicked her tongue with the native speech for the word 'friend'. "It's nice to meet you," she said kindly, her stubby tail wagging on her massive rump. Her eyes settled onto the pile of wood that was partly buried in white snow. "That wood you were carrying.. apoqonmul. I'll help you," Mala said, all the while smiling. This other wolf was quite strange, but one she already deemed friendly by the simple offering of a gift.

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#4
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ORIN TAKEKURO

wc 732


She caught the twinge of hurt flash through the creature’s golden eyes and felt sorry for a moment that she had caused it. Orin knew it was her startled reaction to the bear that ordered that wounded expression, but until now she honestly had not even known that they would be able to communicate. She knew other animals were not daft, and that they had the ability to speak both in the Luperci’s language and in their own. But not all animals had the capacity to speak to the Luperci, and she did not know what marked the difference.


It only grew worse as another one of Orin’s actions shamed the creature more. Orin despised making someone feel bad, and in just a moment of pure circumstance she had somehow dejected this poor chestnut furred creature. Fret wrought her eyes as she quickly worried about how to fix this. But almost as quickly as the hurt had been dealt, it seemed to abate. After averting her eyes in her mortification the bear looked back into Orin’s face once she spoke. The fear of having hurt someone began to lift from Orin’s eyes, and her tentative nature softened rapidly. She became more relaxed, and now could reflect on the moment…


She was talking to a bear! She was face to face with the grizzly, staring up at the hulking form and into a kind, round face, and they were able to communicate! Her heart tripped with excitement. Bears had been mentioned in a few books she read, but rarely had someone written about their personalities before (except for the book she thought about earlier), one story had not been enough to go off of. But at least something seemed to be accurate in what she had read by the man named Milne, for the creature confirmed that Orin had been spot on with her taste for honey!


“I read it!” She boasted, happy that their conversation so quickly referenced books. “That you like honey, I mean. Or, that bears in general like honey. So I just guessed.”


She grinned, but her right ear twitched when Malachi muttered something under her breath about a wolf. Orin was not quick to catch on, and worry wrought her features again as she thought Malachi was muttering something about her. But Malachi had accepted her peculiar peace offering and propped it on her paws and then introduced herself, so she must not have been too offended. Orin perked up again.


“Pleased to meet you, Malachi!” she chirped. “I’m Orin Takekuro. A writer here in Cercatori D’Arte, though I hope to become a professor as well.” She beamed with pride at the mention of her talents, though he eyebrow soon quirked at the words she did not understand.


Orin glanced over her shoulder at the woodpile she had dropped in her surprise a moment before, studied it a moment, then looked back at Malachi. Would it be proper to accept the help from this exotic stranger? Though she did seem fairly comfortable with the area, and had mentioned her pack’s alphas. She turned back to Malachi. “I would love some help. I was just taking it to my bookstore over there,” she waved her hand, indicating which building was her store. “I’m pretty good at being clumsy. I’m hoping to repair some shelves with it. That’s my next chore for the day – to find someone who can fix shelves!” She rubbed the back of her head and giggled sheepishly before spinning around and moving back to the planks. She began to gather some up and spoke to Malachi casually as she did so.


“So, this is pretty amazing really. I’ve never met someone like you before! I didn’t even know we spoke the same language. I mean, I don’t know much about you, but shouldn’t you be asleep right now? Oh, if you’re around in the spring – will you be around in the spring? – maybe I can find a book on how to harvest honey for you. Or, well, you probably already know how, huh?” She flashed Malachi a grin and held out a few of the boards she had gathered, grateful for the help, and then scooped up the rest in her arms before heading towards her bookstore.


“Oh, one more question,” as if she had not already asked a dozen more. “What is ‘oqoti’? And ‘apoqonmul’?”



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#5
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1063 words. Longest one I've ever written XD. And this table is so appropriate for this thread! :3 I love it.


There was concern on the white female's face, which brought concern to Mala's own honey-colored eyes. The fuzzy, rounded ears, always funny looking atop a large head, twitched with concern for a mere moment. Maybe Mala wasn't welcome, and she was making this other female uncomfortable. The shaggy creature opened her light hued muzzle to speak again, voicing that she should probably go and leave this other to her business, but then the pink-haired female's expression changed. She was indeed a strange one, and Malachi wasn't all too sure what to make of her odd behavior.

The expression on the stranger's face only made the creature recall that it was the same face many made when they met her. Even her closest friends in Cercatori d'Arte, she had remembered when they, too, once made the same facial expressions when first encountering Malachi. They stopped looking at her that way now, of course, but it made the large female wonder why they even did so in the first place.

As the sun shone, and Malachi looked back into the white female's face, that flash of malachite green, where she got her name, glowed briefly in their honeyed depths. Mala was suddenly taken aback by the pink-haired wolf claiming she read, someplace, that Malachi herself liked honey. At first, the creature believed that she was somehow written about by members of her tribe, describing everything about her in writing to be given to wolves all around the area. She was sure she was pretty far from her tribe, so how could it have traveled so far, so fast?

"You read about.. me?" She said, suddenly curious yet worried. But then, as the white female before her mentioned the "b" word, her ears flew back on her head, and a look of disgust and fear crossed the shaggy female's face. "Ugh. Those drooling, disgusting, wolf-killing creatures? They shouldn't even be worthy of such a sweet treat." Of course, Mala was oblivious to the fact that the wolf before her was talking about Mala herself, in her true identity. However, she was too concerned about something being written about her, and was also reminded by a gentle growl in her large stomach how hungry she had become.

A smile stretched across Malachi's face, looking up at Orin who stood up on her own two feet again. Whatever was written about her, she'd have to find out about.. but it seemed to melt the worry off of the stranger's white face, and so her own brown one as well. It couldn't have been all that bad, she guessed. Her breath misted in the cold air, watching Orin all the while that she introduced herself. Malachi nodded, remembering also that Skye was a writer and a keeper of books as well. She did have to make a mental note to herself to see if Skye actually had anything written about the large female, but that could wait.

Malachi was merely glad to be helpful to someone, and her eyes glittered at Orin taking her offer to help her. But knowing she'd have to be carrying something, Mala knew she'd have to do it on her four legs. Which was strange, at least to her, because she was a Luperci, at least in her mind. Luperci were able to do things must quicker and much easier on two legs, but for Mala it seemed like she had trouble on them, and things were easier if she waddled along on all four paws instead. The large brown female grinned slightly, hearing something about a bookstore and shelves.. and Malachi knew she'd be no help there. Her eyes danced as she watched Orin leave for a moment to retrieve the planks she dropped earlier, when Mala entered the small town, and come running right back.

She was about to help herself in grabbing one of the planks until Orin spoke again, and her voice seemed excited. With muzzle half opened, some of her front teeth exposed, Malachi stood there frozen on the spot (no pun intended), listening to the girl speak. "I didn’t even know we spoke the same language." She heard the pink one say, and the shaggy creature lifted an eyebrow in a what-are-you-talking-about kind of way. "Well, of course. We are wolves, aren't we? All wolves speak the same language.." Mala said matter-of-factly, still confused on why Orin even brought it up to begin with. As if she couldn't be even more astounded by this female's strange ways, the question of sleep rang in her round ears. "How did you--" But she was cut off by Orin's string of questions, and Mala could only stare in wonderment at her. Exactly how much was written about her? Had she done something so awful, so unheard of, that it had to be written about as a warning to other wolves, in other packs?

And then, something clicked in Mala's head, something that she knew for certain had to be true. That must have been why, then, that Malachi couldn't get into a pack! All the pack's leaders must have read about her and were warned by her previous tribe not to take her in.. to protect their pups. This entire realization swam into Mala's head unexpectedly, and hurt immediately crossed her features. 'They really don't want me to come back, then..' She mused softly and silently to herself, her shoulders slumping with this assumption in mind, and almost didn't see the boards that Orin put down before her to pick up.

"Oh, one more question," Mala heard, and she snapped her head up as if being woken out of a bad daydream. "Huh?" Was the only word that came out of her muzzle, and the familiar M'ikmaq words rang in her ears.. although a little butchered. "Oh, right. Oqoti means 'friend'," she said, before leaning down and scooping up the wooden boards in her large jowls and following in step behind the female, kicking the pebble present along with her big front paws. "Apoqonmul mes lt mff hurp chu," she muffled under the planks, trying to explain to Orin that it meant an offering of assistance to another. Her paws shuffled in the light dusting of snow that was on the ground, trying to keep the pebble in check and not wanting to lose the small gift given to her.

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#6
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ORIN TAKEKURO

ooc Congrats! And you inspired me and I went crazy. WC 1,227

The tiny Luperci nodded casually as Malachi questioned her about her reading. There was a snippet of pride mixed into her own stance, as though she was proud to show the bear that she was not completely daft when it came to her species or her culture (although she actually was, since the extent of her bear knowledge came from a few passing notes in a science journal, and the rest from a book titled Winnie the Pooh). Yet as Malachi went on her expression transformed into a tangled mixture of shock and confusion. What was Malachi talking about? Wolf killers who? Orin assumed that her mind must have wandered off at some point in the conversation, as it so frequently did, and she missed the segue into whatever the creature was going on about now. She paused a moment, just a beat, trying to ponder her way through this one. Maybe she was talking about killer wolves. ‘Well, yes, killer wolves don’t really deserve a treat like honey, I suppose,’ she thought to herself, and continued on.


“Yeah! Well, I mean, it wasn’t about you you, specifically. But it was about your kind,” she gave a rigid nod.


Then the grizzly said something else that thoroughly confused her, and she began to suspect that, although she and Malachi spoke the same language, perhaps one of them (okay, no, perhaps Malachi was really what Orin was thinking) did not properly understand it. Maybe it was a second language? It was possible that she had been taught by some other wolf, and maybe the bear was still refining her verbal skills. Well, that was all just fine! Orin could help her with that! She grinned again and proffered the best answer she could, not wanting to contradict or embarrass the bear. Clearly, she thought the word ‘wolf’ must refer to all living creatures, which would have made sense if she had learned her language from one. “Yes, all wolves speak the same language. Well, actually… there are a lot of people who know a few languages, some even brought over from the remnants of human society. We know and learn them from the books. A lot of Luperci come from other continents knowing a variation of our own language, or another language completely. But yes, really, most wolves speak the same language!” She giggled, happy with her explanation.


She turned away from Malachi and continued on, carrying her now less bulky stack of planks across the square and towards her shop that lay at one end of the horseshoe that made up the commercial district of Thornbury, yet was close to the center of town. Her ears twitched and swiveled at the sound of shuffling, and as she tracked lightly through the snow she glanced back over her shoulder to see Malachi with the boards clamped in her jaws and awkwardly trying to kick the pebble along. Knowing so little about bears, Orin did not know that Malachi could not walk very far on her hind legs, even though she had sturdy balance. She felt a tear of shame jolt through her core as she realized she was being insensitive, and she quickly doubled back to Malachi. The bear had offered to carry the planks, so she did not fuss with the wood, but she squatted down and snagged the pebble, setting it atop the pile in her arms. “Sorry. Let me get that for you.”


But when she looked into Malachi’s face she had seen something solemn behind her eyes. Her new friend seemed a bit more slumped than a moment ago, and Orin bit her bottom lip as she fretted and walked. Her eyebrows pursed together, wondering what was wrong, wondering if she had embarrassed the grizzly. Little did she know that Malachi was dwelling on the fact that Orin said she had read something about her. She had been oblivious when Malachi’s expression first faltered, and now she was unable to puzzle the problem despite wracking her brain.


When she reached the bookstore she leaped up the two stone steps of the threshold and nudged the door open with her hip. Replacing the latch was low on her priorities since everyone in Cercatori D’Arte was welcome in her shop at any time. The next time she peered over her shoulder at the bear, Malachi was trying to mutter a distorted answer around the burden in her maw. Orin couldn’t help but smile and snicker softly as she slipped through the doorway. “My friend, I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you just said.”


The woman left the door open for Malachi and skittered across the bare floor of the bookstore, quickly depositing her load behind what once was the sales counter. The surface was damaged and was the most likely candidate for the new materials, requiring a patch in both the side and the top. Orin slapped her hands together a couple times, wiping them off before remembering the pebble and retrieving it from the pile. She turned back to the doorway and Malachi, waving her over. “If you could set it down here, that’d be a lot of help. Thank you so much.


“Next, I’ve got to figure out how to fix this. I’ve done some repairs before but I’m not really good at it, and I’d prefer someone else hammer on their own thumbs for a while. I need mine for writing.” She held up her hands and flexed her delicate fingers.


“You’re welcome to make yourself comfortable, if you’d like,” she said as she gestured to the rest of the shop. Upon entering the bookstore to the right the walls were lined with shelves and books, as well as several rows of shelving. The main floor of the store had been cleared, and a table and a couple simple chairs had been placed close to the opposite wall – some minor furniture Orin had salvaged. “If you can… Sorry it’s not too homey yet. I haven’t really had much of a chance to spruce it up, but at least that skunk smell is finally leaving.” She laughed at the memory. “When I found this place, Shawchert scared a hibernating skunk and it sprayed him!” Truth be told, Orin had been the one who scared it and it sprayed her, Shawchert had pulled her out of the way of most of the blast and then ran the black and white critter off while she was off in a bush panicking.


“I hope you’re not cold. I don’t really have any heat in here, either,” she looked rueful. “Come springtime I hope to figure out a way to build a fireplace in that wall, but it can’t be done before then. The mortar would never dry… and I don’t even know anyone who can mix any, either. It’s not that big of a deal to me because I’m made for the snow.” She ran a hand along the thick ruff of fur that had filled in this season.


“Okay, so, hey, if you don’t mind,” she asked as she casually propped herself up on the damaged counter. The injured wood creaked beneath her weight, but she was so slight that it did not crumble under her like it would have a normal Luperci. “Tell me more about this language you’re speaking. Oh… oh-ko-tee… friend?”




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#7
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1307 words. Crazy Nuki is crazy, but she gave me an injection of muse!


As Malachi had expected, there came that strange look that other wolves gave to her when introductions were made. Did she look funny? Did she have something on her face? Gods knew how often Mala stood by a lake, river, or any expanse of water, looking into it and examining her face. Sure, her ears were shorter, but that was because she had a bigger head than most. And her muzzle was shorter, too, but so what? Malachi knew all wolves were different, and her mother had told her that she was special. Mala, despite spending long hours trying to pull at her ears to make them larger, still believed wholeheartedly she was special. She was a wolf, no matter how anyone looked at it.

'My kind?' Mala said to herself, her face expressing the same questioning look. One eye was brought down by a heavy lid, hidden partially, and her nose was scrunched up and her lips half drawn up in a 'what are you talking about?' look. It looked quite comical, for one, but the shaggy creature would have never noticed it. "You mean my tribe? I came from a Mi'kmaq tribe, from far up north," she said, now it was her turn to feel a bit proud of her heritage. It dealt her a great deal of pain, though, too, for the incidents that occurred a while back.. but to the large female, it felt as though it happened only yesterday. "We are peaceful wolves, everyone is family.." But Malachi trailed off again, her final words trailing off, as if a mouthful of buzzing bees was clogging up her throat. Tears threatened at the corners of her honey and malachite eyes, but she quickly buried her face in her thick neck ruff and rubbed her eyes against her fur.

The shaggy creature wished the subject was changed, then, and thankfully the pink haired female before her seemed to read her mind. As Mala blinked herself back into focus, the tears now vanished within her folds of chocolate fur, she studied the strange white female before her. Mala was actually quite surprised how much Orin knew of the history of language itself, how it went from humans to wolves like them today. She herself didn't think so much could be learned from books, though she loved great big tall stories.. both listening to them and telling them.

In her tribe, they never really needed books. All the stories they told to one another were from memory, and tribe members learned them well. It was simply passed on from generation to generation, and at least one or two storytellers conveyed enough emotion for everyone to fully experience the tale. That, to Malachi, was what made them memorable. Now that she was out on her own, telling these stories out loud to herself or to other wolves willing to listen made her realize how much she missed her home.

As they both made their way across the small town, each carrying their share of wood, it was apparent that Orin noticed Mala's little dilemma in kicking the pebble all the way to their destination. Malachi wanted to smile beneath the wooden planks she grasped in her cream colored muzzle, but if she did she would have probably dropped the pieces of wood. "Fank foo," she tried to express her gratitude, but again it must have sounded like gibberish with a heavy mouthful to bear.

The large, waddling female was glad they had made it to Orin's bookstore. Mala's mind was buzzing with thoughts, of what could have possibly been written about her, or even her tribe. They were a simple pack of wolves, just getting by peacefully, spreading their influences and lending a helping paw. What could have possibly been written about them? Glancing up, Malachi noticed the white wolf swinging open the door of a large building, and it gave way with little budging. Waiting until the pink haired girl was inside, and giving her a signal to follow, Mala soon followed, one big paw after another shuffling up the steps and into the store.

She didn't get to take a good look at the store, merely dropping the wooden planks gently beside where Orin placed her pile. Drool covered her load of planks, and as Mala drew her lips back in a bit of shame, she looked down on the floor. "Sorry, I tend to do that." Rounded ears caught the sounds of the bookkeeper needing repair help, and smiled when she made a joke about nearly nailing her fingers instead of the nail. Mala wondered briefly if Shawchert ever did that when he was starting out, only knowing that his line of art involved using hammers, nails and planks of wood.

Looking up at Orin, who gave her the invite to be comfortable, smiled and nodded, her heart warmed by the sentiment. "Thank you," she spoke slowly, like milk and honey. That was when she swung her head around to survey the rest of the store, getting a better look at it. Her stout muzzle was almost agape when she saw the walls lined with books, of all shapes and colors, and contained possibly the whole world in its pages. She was distracted, however, as a chocolate furred ear twitched at the word of 'skunk'. So that's what that smell was! Nothing really fooled Mala's giant black sniffer, but the store did smell a little funky, yet nothing she could quite pinpoint. "Maybe that's why he smells so bad, huh?" She said to Orin, glancing over at her and smiling jokingly. She chuckled lightly for a moment, shuffling herself along the floorboards and finding a nice spot of old carpet to sit upon.

When she settled herself, her head tilted towards the white female. "You know, you'd think with all this fur I'd be warm, and yet I still get chilly!" She stuck her salmon colored tongue out for a moment, the joke reminding Malachi of how young pups would joke about her mounds of brown fur. Mala glanced down at herself for a moment, a large body of fat and fur stuck out, indicating only time for hibernation. The female fought it, of course, as she did just about every year, but the overeating she could not help. Looking back to Orin, a knowing look crossed her own features. "I knew how to make fire once, my father taught me. You needed... erm..." She trailed off for a moment, lifting a large, grizzled paw to scratch behind one of her ears in thought. "Tinder, yes.. and.. we used flint, back up north. But I am not sure if anyone here does." Mala nodded, though she had met several different faces, she was still trying to get used to their customs, which seemed similar yet different.

She stopped thinking, though, and her head propped up on her shaggy shoulders when the female across the room was interested in Mala's native language. A smile stretched her creamy muzzle, finding it somewhat cute how she attempted to pronounce the words she herself used earlier, without even thinking about it. "Oh, yes. The language, it's Mi'kmaq. I still use it often, though I don't think anyone here knows of it," she said, shaking her head and looking across the room, into darkness. Giggling, she looked back at the bookkeeper. "You almost said that right. It's oqoti, o-gho-di." Her tongue moved as slow as it could with the language she grew up knowing, and it did indeed have a strange quality to it. "Would you like to learn some words?" The female asked, with a bit of hope in her voice. Perhaps, if something was written about her or her tribe, then maybe wolves from this part of the land could learn and never forget a new language.


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#8
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ORIN TAKEKURO

ooc Have to write and run. No time to proof read, hope it's ok! WC 784

When she saw the generous bit of drool left on the planks that Malachi deposited with the others, she looked surprised for only a second before smiling kindly and waving it off. “Oh, don't worry about that. It'll dry in no time. A good home is full of blood, sweat, and tears... and spit I guess! Sometimes I do that too.” She giggled at the funny thought. Before she never understood the meaning of that preposterous statement, but the longer she resided in Nova Scotia the more sense it began to make. Especially now that she was fixing up her bookstore (and previously the lighthouse in Cour des Miracles). From time to time she would get a splinter, smash her finger, trip, something like that, which usually accounted for two of the three. And although canines did not sweat like humans used to, she understood the sentiment about the sweat part, and oftentimes when she was worked up and panting, she too would miss a little glob of drool as it dripped off her jaw and to the floor. It was just another fact of life.


She shuffled on her perch on the counter, trying to get comfortable, and as she did so Malachi's casual statement about Shawchert's scent caught her off guard. Uproarious laughter boomed from her throat and she nearly spit, snorting at the hilarity of it. ”Yeah, the guy's been a little ripe. I guess I don't have room to talk – it got me too.” Her laughter carried on for a minute more until her belly hurt and her eyes watered. It was hard to calm down from that, and even when she thought she was done she still let out a wayward cough-chuckle.


She blinked against the tears in her eyes and wiped at them with her little fingers, mopping up the moisture. Malachi's form became a chocolate colored blur in her vision for a bit, but there was no doubt she was still talking to the bear. When her eyes finally cleared she cocked an eyebrow as Malachi mentioned something about being cold. She wasn't sure if it was a joke or not, and fretted for a moment. “Oh, are you really cold? I could probably find you a blanket!” But then the bear's tongue shot out of her muzzle and Orin took it as the signal of a joke. She glanced at Malachi's fur again and grinned, “oh.”


Orin was finally able to banish the last dregs of laughter from her body, though she felt like she had just had a vigorous workout. Her abdomen was sore from the muscle spasms and her throat was dry, which reminded her of a fine drink she had stored in the back room. The woman quickly scooted off of her perch, her foot paws landing on the ground with the softest thud, and she navigated around the woodpile and into the back stock room, though not before making a gesture to Malachi. “Be right back. I'm still listening!”


She disappeared into the stock room for just a moment before returning with a green glass bottle filled with a dark liquid and corked at the spout. She grinned at Malachi as she rifled two glasses from under the counter and held them up. “Want some? I bought it from the neighbor.” She propped the glasses on the counter and bit the cork, yanking it from the bottle. Almost immediately the sharp aroma of fermented berries filled the space. She held the bottle half tipped over one glass, and looked at Malachi, waiting for her yes or no signal.


Without missing a beat, Orin returned to the conversation as she did the business with the wine and glasses. “Ooh... Making fire is a great skill. I don't really know how to... but I've seen my brother Niro do it with a flint and steel, as well as with sticks. Maybe you could teach me some time?”


She deposited the wine bottle on the counter and and sipped from her glass before setting it down. “Mi'kmaq? I've never heard of it. Or heard it. Or, if I have, I didn't know it.” She giggled softly and then tried the word again, now with Malachi's assistance. “Oh-kgho-ti... dee... Oh-gho-di.” She tried it again once more, a little faster this time, then looked at Malachi for approval. “Did I say it?”


Then the grizzly made a generous offer, and Orin's face lit up like a thousand fire ants had bit her. She make a little yip and clapped her hands, laughing with delight. “Yes! Teach me more! I would love to learn the language!”




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#9
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887 words. Oh god, Mala and "fermented berry juice"... baaad idea. -rolls with laughter-


Her cream muzzle contorted into a smile when she heard Orin talk about hard work. She was sure the white female was trying to comfort her about her drooling habit, but still Mala wondered why she did moreso than other wolves. Hers was thick, and slimy, and she'd always get poked fun of that by the tribe's pups. Humor glittered in her eyes when she remembered chasing them around with globs of it hanging from her lips, threatening to 'bathe' them. Quickly she shook her large head, she couldn't be thinking about them anymore, Malachi could no longer return home.

The big creature's nose wrinkled when the pink haired female mentioned the skunk again, and her nostrils flared quite loudly, taking in all the scents of the bookstore. Other than the light scents of the invading black and white creature, there was dust, of course. And then the smell of old pages and books, and of an old fireplace with ashes that have long since been burned. Rounded ears caught the sounds of laughter from Orin at the shaggy female's joke, and smiled humorously again. Her own rounded stomach began to bubble with laughter, too, but not as hard or as long as Orin's when it was emitted.

Honey colored eyes watched Orin's form as it disappeared for a moment, though she kept on commenting about fire making materials. But as the white female arrived, she cocked an eyebrow at the bottle in her hands. However, the moment it was corked at the sweet smell wafted to Malachi's nose, she was on her feet. Large black nose had a life all its own when she shuffled towards the counter and to Orin, and rolled her body back to shift her weight onto her feet, into her 'Luperci' form. Her upper body leaned somewhat heavily on the counter, as Malachi leaned her head forward to sniff at the liquid. "What.. is that?" She asked with an intense curiosity, salmon tongue sneaking out to lick her lips. It smelled like berries, and boy did Malachi love those. It nearly made her wish spring would come sooner.

However, she was sure her massive body would crush the counter, and so she backed up with a small 'Hnnngg' noise and carefully put herself back down on all fours. The floorboards squeaked in retaliation, and Mala looked down at her paws for a moment, feeling somewhat guilty. "Sorry, that was out of place. But I just follow my nose wherever it goes!" Mala looked back up at Orin sitting on the counter, smiling apologetically. "If you'll invite me, I'd love to have some," she said in a manner that would have pleased her mother. The large chocolate and cream furred female listened intently as the conversation was driven back to fire making, and nearly beamed at the bookkeeper for taking interest. "I'd love to show you, if I had the materials. I might be a little rusty.." She admitted in a smaller tone of voice, drifting from just the edge of her lips, as if someone else might have heard.

The beast wasn't at all surprised that Orin hadn't heard of her own native tongue. Why would she? Even if Malachi's tribe wrote a book and passed it on to the lands, she didn't think they would have mentioned the language. "It's very old," the shaggy creature told her. And then, a softer and somewhat sadder tone was evident in her voice. "I.. I didn't think anyone here would know it." Ears were pressed back on her gigantic head for a moment, Mala was never able to hide her emotions - they were as plain as day. Her expression lit up as she heard the Mi'kmaq sound for 'friend', though a little rough, was better than the last attempt. "Yes, you got it!" She spurted. What surprised her even more, though, was when Orin jumped at Mala's own offer to teach her the words of an old and nearly dying language. "R-really? You want to?" She spoke in an incredulous voice, as if she wasn't believing for a moment that someone was yearning to learn, out of all the other languages, her own.

Mala rolled back down onto the ground in a sitting position, glancing up at the female. One claw reached our to scratch at her protruding belly, where winter fat was being stored despite her still being awake in the cold season. Her eyes were cast near the ceiling, now, as if thinking of what words to pick. Mala wasn't exactly sure how to teach someone a new language, especially when it came to natural to her.

"Hnnnnggg.." She mumbled that peculiar sound, without even knowing about it. Licking her lips again, as if she had come to a decision, Mala looked into the golden eyes of the female. "Pjila'si," she said then, nodding and smiling. "It means 'welcome', or to invite someone in to sit down. That's appropriate when you run your store, right?" She questioned, though wasn't expecting an answer. Clearing her throat, she said it again. "êp-chi-laa-si" Mala said, as she cut herself short with the first syllable, then dragged out the 'laa' and let it flow into the last syllable. Beginning to scratch at her belly again, she waited for Orin to give it a try.

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#10
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OOC The the silliness commence! wc 1053


She worried a little bit when the broken counter began to creak under Malachi's weight. The thing was already damaged so her fear wasn't for the table itself, that could be rebuilt, rather it was concern for Malachi herself that made Orin bite her lip in apprehension. If the counter gave under the bear's weight she might fall and get hurt by the splintered wood. Or worse, she might have been totally embarrassed. Orin knew what Malachi was even if the grizzly thought of herself as a Luperci, and did not blame her for her weight one bit. But Malachi, on the other hand, had such a sweet and gentle disposition that Orin knew she would be humiliated if the counter gave beneath her. She was just about to figure out a sneaky way of getting Malachi to move without alerting her to her vein of thought when the bear backed up on her own. The Takekuro woman smiled reassuringly at her new friend. “Don't apologize. And you're welcome to all you want until we find the end of the bottle,” she grinned as she snagged the wine bottle and filled Malachi's glass to the rim. “It does smell pretty good. Has a bit of a bite to the nose, I think, but it's certainly different. It's wine... My neighbor called it something else... vintage, and some year, I don't know. I don't know anything about wine.” She tittered.


“Except it is pretty good.” She pushed Malachi's glass closer to her and took another gulp of her own. “Hurry up,” she joked. “You're already behind.”


There was one last short thought about fire making, to which Orin added simply, “Well, maybe we can find the materials in one of the shops here in Thornbury. Or someone might let you borrow them.” But their conversation quickly moved to the topic of Malachi's native language. The two womens excitement percolated and stamped out the last talk of fire crafting.


Orin watched as Malachi sagged, her countenance taking on a disappointed sadness. She cocked an eyebrow and her own expression unintentionally mimicked Malachi's, her face drooping with a sadness to match that in the brown face. She took another sip of her wine and thought a moment. What was this poor creature so sad about? It seemed to happen suddenly, and it was becoming clear that it had something to do with mention of her family. Orin knew what it was like to feel sad over family, for she had lost both of her parents at a young age. But still, she did not know exactly what it was that bothered Malachi, and so continued to speculate.


“Languages are pretty amazing, if you think about it,” she mused casually. “I mean, how did we invent language? Someone just started making noises and eventually everyone else caught on. And then writing, that's a whole new monster in itself. I can understand old hieroglyphics that look like pictures to mean something, but one day someone drew the first T and decided it went tuh!”


She was silent for just a second before erupting in a bout of silly laughter. She always thought about things like this but rarely voiced those thoughts out loud. They sounded so... funny when she said it out loud. Well DUH! Of course that's how it happened. But it was still an incredible thought! Okay, the wine was already getting to her head. She calmed her giggles with another sip and then turned back to Malachi, nodding emphatically.


“Yes, I want to! I don't know any other languages, and it would be fun to know something not many other people did,” she grinned and winked. “If there was someone we didn't like, we could talk about them right in front of them and they wouldn't know. No! That's mean. Oh it'd be so fun.” She giggled again, but at least not as noisily as the first time.


Her eyes dropped to the emptied glass and she mourned the end of her first drink of wine. Well, there was still more in the bottle, at least, but she would wait for Malachi to catch up to her. The last thing she wanted to do was be a glutton and take it all for herself when she had a guest over! She turned back to Malachi and looked at the bear intently. “You got fuzzier,” she stated in a very matter of fact tone, and blinked a couple times. A new grin was on her face now.


Despite the silliness that was quickly setting into Orin's mood, she was very serious about learning Malachi's native tongue, and when the bear began to teach her she respectfully paid attention. Sure, she continued to smile and giggle occasionally, but never was she rude nor did she laugh at Malachi. She carefully watched the way the bear's muzzle moved to form the words. Whatever she just said, Orin wouldn't have had a chance if she tried to spell it. But she followed the word closely.


“Eptchy-lassy,” she attempted, then scrunched her face up and flinched as though a bug just flew into her face. “That wasn't right, was it? Eptchee...” The wine had stolen her grace, and a little spray of spittle bounces from her maw as she tried the word again. She gasped and her hand flew up to her mouth, and she began giggling again. “Oh my god, I'm sorry! See, I told you I do it too.”


She took a breath and tried again, this time managing to control her saliva output. ”Ep-chee-laaah-si.” She blinked at Malachi, awaiting her opinion. “That is perfect, now I can greet everyone at my door! I've got to write this down before I forget.” She made quick (although fairly ungraceful) work of slipping off of the counter and grabbing a pen and a piece of paper. She had no idea how to spell the words so she did her best trying to write them down as she remembered them pronounced.


“Okay, so I know 'friend,' and 'welcome,'” she listed them off as she wrote them down. “What about... I have to know this one... What about book? Or, what's your favorite word?”


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#11
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1103 words. Also, this post is dedicated to my beagle, 'cause it's the first I've managed to write since he passed <33. This site helps for any voice reference, if you're curious ^^.


Honey eyes were focused on her paws, but looked up when Orin had forgiven her for her natural curiosity. Her 'sniffer' just had a mind of its own, and she couldn't control it. However, the pink haired female welcomed her to the sweet and slightly bitter drink, as she set the round, crystal clear glass on the floor before her. Mala's tongue nearly popped out of its creamy cage, watching with interest as the red juice filled up the glass. Large ebony nose wriggled with the berry juice, deemed 'wine', which sounded funny to the shaggy female.

She nearly bent down to lap at it, when Orin pushed the glass closer, urging her on. One eye peered up at the female sitting at the counter, who downed her glass, and so Malachi's salmon tongue dipped into the fermented berry juice for a taste. It was bitter, and yet sweet, not unlike the dark red berries she loved to pick off bushes in the springtime. It felt smooth going down her throat, and so large front paws swept out in front of her, gently picking up the thin stem of the wine glass. It didn't take long to bring it up to her face, and the scene itself looked silly. Her large paws were pressed together, the glass in between, lifting the sweet red juice to her lips. Lapping at it almost greedily, she set it down quickly, almost afraid for it to slip from between her claws and shatter on the floor.

Mala looked up at Orin once more, licking her lips. Her entire mouth tasted of the juice, and she had wondered why she never saw this type of liquid before. Her tribe never really drank, unless it was for ceremonies or special occasions. Maybe they were afraid that she, lover of berries, would become hooked on it and finish it all before its time. A large, toothy grin was flashed in the white female's direction, with a kind of look that said 'so what now'? The creature only nodded somewhat at the mention of fire making, and she did indeed miss practicing. It was always quite tricky to get the right angle with flint to spark, and to catch, and breathing life into the fire just right.

The more she thought about the subject of fire, the warmer the large female's body became. Little did she know that it was part of the wine's effects, but she felt warm and fuzzy, despite already being that way. Rounded ears moved on her head, her head already beginning to feel like it was swimming, trying to listen to Orin about the origins of speech. And just the way that the pink haired female tried to pronounce a simple letter made her giggle, Mala too followed along with short rumblings in her grizzled throat.

Orin was becoming more bubbly, and it was rather contagious. Salmon tongue sloshed out of her mouth to hang there on her lips, never once having thought of using her language as an advantage to talk behind someones back. It seemed rude, and very much unlike Malachi to do, but her honey eyes sparkled with a deviousness she had never known. All the blame was on the bittersweet berry juice, of course. "We'd get in trouble," the large female said, though a smile still lined her cute-as-a-button features. What Malachi heard next was unexpected, and she slowly blinked upwards at the female. She was... fuzzier? She turned to look down at her body, engorged and ready for hibernation that she would not allow. Then she looked up at Orin questioningly, head tilting sideways. "It makes me look.. poofy.." But the way the shaggy female said the last word sent laughter bubbling up from her lips, and she contorted her face in a fit of giggles.

And she remained giggling, even as Orin spittled when trying to pronounce the Mi'kmaq word that came naturally to her. When she did it, Malachi bellowed into the air of the bookstore, but when she realized it was a sound that seemed foreign to her fuzzy, rounded ears, she quickly slapped a large paw over her lips. Apparently, Orin had just about the same time. Malachite laced eyes looked over to the white female, and it seemed they mirrored eachothers' actions, which only spurred Malachi into more laughter, unable to contain it behind her heavy paws.

The bookkeeper did seem pleased with herself, though, when she thought she pronounced the word for 'welcome' correctly. When she pushed her seat back and got up, stepping a little ways away from Mala, the large female took this as her chance. The berry juice was making her bold, and so she quickly shifted weight onto her back paws, becoming a 'Luperci' as quick as she could to reach for the wine bottle on the counter top. The shaggy female knew she was going to be caught, but she was far from caring anymore. Her massive front paws hugged the wine bottle, as she backed away from the unsteady counter and sat back down onto the floor, lifted the bottle to her lips. It would have been a far messier job trying to pour it into a small glass herself.

Setting the bottle down on the floor, knowing Orin would see it had moved, she licked her lips once again. Wine was such a pleasant drink, she mused, hearing a certain hum in the back of her large head as her new friend asked a question. "G-g..gegina'matimgewei," she said, a burp escaping her as she answered the first of Orin's questions. The word she had asked for was long and complicated in Mala's native tongue, which she clicked idly as she turned her head in Orin's direction. The next question nearly startled her, as the massive creature had never once thought about what her favorite word was. At the moment, there was only one word that came to mind, as she pointed at the bottle by her feet. "Moqopa'q!"

Something came across the hefty female, sitting with her legs splayed out in front of her. Her body leaned forward, and her paws grabbed her feet, massive body becoming a rounded ball of sorts. Mala began to rock back and forth, remembering as she did the same when she was just a pup. She giggled again, wondering if it was the "moqopa'q" making her feel so light and airy, and childish once again. "Mmmo-hgo-baaaahk.." her voice was drifting, slurring the word out for Orin to pronounce. Of course, learning a new language never helped when one was under the influence.

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