[- Dated...whenever is most convenient. :x -]
It was warmer today. The late morning sky was broken into pieces of thin abalone cloud and stretches of dilute blue. A soft breeze that smelled of the ocean rustled the fields of wild abandoned grape yards. Grayson remained amid the borderlands, unhurriedly looping his way into Dahlia's heart and taking in the sights as he did so. His was a crawling pace, as he was forced to stop for rest breaks often. He didn't mind this. He had survived the game and was accepted into this new pack, which would serve as an acceptable base or refuge, for now. He didn't know how long he was going to stay, but at least he was here. Not dead, not even significantly incapacitated...save for the numbness which remained in his left hand, and the naturally-formed walking stick he had to use.
Here was also better than there.
When the area relinquished itself to forest, Gray paused near a big tree on the fringe and leaned his lean optime body against the cinnamon bark, strong arms crossed loosely over his chest as not to press unduly hard on the bandages. Warm chestnut eyes gazed out at the rolling, once cultured vineyards before he closed them, allowing the sun to wash his weary features. This place felt good. And yet...he missed the mountains.
ooc; I'd like to have this happen after the war thread. Easier and bleh bleh!
ic;
The time of the day did not matter. The weather did not matter. Nothing really did. Yet, he went on as usual, and nothing came through the thick walls and the mask that hid every god damn feeling that raged inside of him. He had ripped off the bandages already. He did not give shit. He looked terrible. He had indeed been beaten up properly, but he had not let it go without scratches for the other parts either. Instead of sitting alone with it all, he was moving about, currently following the scent of the possibly newest member of Dahlia. He had left the apothecary and newcomer in an immature way, but he did give a shit. He was simply himself, and cared nothing of what other may would think of his actions. Half the inhabitants of ’Souls had already made a decision already. Rapist and murderer. Whoppee.
The other man was by the vineyards. His walking was slightly clumsy due to his back leg. Else from that there were scratches and injuries everywhere. He would never look the same. He padded slower, blue eyes with pink edges after no sleep at all. Life was hell. Ey, Gray, how is it going? He shouted it out and simply set down, hoping the male would come to him and not the other way around. He could not sleep, could not eat, could not breathe. Nothing. Hopefully the newcomer could entertain him a bit. .
Grayson's ears pricked and his lids parted, revealing the dirt-brown orbs that seemed heavily shadowed no matter the day, sunk deep in their sockets. The trim, earthy figure could only be Haku...not exactly someone he had expected to meet today or, in fact, any day in the near in the future. He hesitated, then grabbed his walking stick and limped down the slope to where the man was sitting. After a moment of impassively taking in the other's injuries, Grayson stiffly lowered himself into a seated position a few feet away and lay his stick parallel to his side in the grass. Clearly Haku had gotten himself in a bit of a skirmish, if such a light word could be applied. Judging from what little he had gleaned during their last foggy encounter, Grayson was not particularly surprised.
"You look like hell," came the perhaps anticipated reply, as often used as it is by those who fear not the repercussions of blatantly obvious statements. Gray may have been haggard and a few solid weeks out from a complete recovery, but Haku here was thrashed - death thrice warmed over. "Pick th'fight yourself?" Said in a nonchalant sort of way. The ash Luperci grinned halfheartedly at him.
[html]
http://i24.photobucket.com/albums/c13/v ... anskje.jpg);background-position:bottom;background-repeat:no-repeat;">ans serif; font-size:12px;line-height:12px;text-align:justify;color:#585454; padding:12px;margin-bottom:220px;">sorry for the wait <-< - btw, your new avatar is delicious.
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Yes, the sub-leader of Dahlia looked horrible. No mortal wounds, and that was all that mattered. The earthly toned male let the gray newcomer check out his miserable look with an everlasting calm. He did not seem surprised, and Haku could not help but form a somewhat grin. The other male sat down and threw a fitting comment out into the air. Like ’hell’. So fitting, and the leader could only nod slightly, knowing that he was liking this stranger better and better. Last time they had seen each other, it had been too turbulent to get into details. Haku had been too busy attempting to play apothecary for a dying creature. This.. Gray fellow.
Thank you, I will take it as a compliment, the male replied dryly, though without being able to pull his grin back. He cocked his head slightly and let his eyes rest easily on the seated wolf. I forgot to mention that we were in the middle of a war last time we chatted, but there were more urgent matters to attend to, so.. Yeah. The male snorted and blinked, letting his gaze drift for a moment before settling again. You, on the other hand, looks better than the last time I laid my eyes on you. How’s the shape?
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{It is rather delicious ain't it? Cwm is awesome. Yours is beautiful too...and don't apologise for the wait. ^^}
"It is well," Grayson replied with a tinge of awkwardness, not quite understanding Haku's slang. "So your blood and the blood of your beloved and your hated has spilt and mixed on the ground," he muttered. "Unhappy. Though I trust...it was good business? Is the task finished? Or is more flesh to be sacrificed?" If the higher-ranking male had not wanted to talk about his pack's conflict, Grayson didn't pick up on whatever hints may have been dropped, or perhaps didn't care. This was to be his new home, at least for a while. He had to know everything pertinent. The names of the land's enemies. Their enemies. His enemies. He'd fight them as long as he called Dahlia de Mai home, for a home, no matter how...contorted, no matter how bastardized, was still a place worth protecting. The ashen wanderer absently scratched at a corner of his bandage, finding the swathes uncomfortable and counting down the minutes to the day he'd be able to rip them off his body.
[html]
http://i24.photobucket.com/albums/c13/v ... anskje.jpg);background-position:bottom;background-repeat:no-repeat;">ans serif; font-size:12px;line-height:12px;text-align:justify;color:#585454; padding:12px;margin-bottom:220px;">God, I suck so bad! You are allowed to spit on me.
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For what the chocolate leader cared, this was over. He had started it all, but half the way he had become bored and wanted it to vanish by leaving it, but the rest of the affected groups had picked up their own pace, and he had halfheartedly lead the little raid against Inferni. It had been a silly move, and he had been aware of it even then, but it had to end in some way. Both sides had lost some, both sides bled some, that was enough. The demon was silent and did not command him around anymore. He wondered why he was left so empty and hollow.
You have missed out on all the action. His tail made a swift movement as a wasp made an attempt to park on his back. A sting was not likely, but he would not wait and see what business the little creature had. It is over, at least for my part. Thankfully. Wars were nasty. He had never really minded, but the creature in the pit of his belly moved uncomfortably when he thought of the young female with the sad emerald eyes. Are you planning to stay here for a while, Gray? From one subject to another, quite directly. As usual, Haku just followed his thoughts as they randomly floated about in his head. He would like to know if the man wanted to stay or continue his journey.
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