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500+, located somewhere outside of Dahlia de Mai. Hope this is alright.
The boy lived through the days with a dull ache in his chest. He was not miserable. It was the happiness that caused his heart to press hard against his chest every time it beat. The boy did not particularly like to guess the reason why that was, because a touch of some strange misery in his blooming world of colours provided him with a proper perspective and view of things that he wanted to keep. He had tossed and turned next to the latte coloured woman in the bed the two of them shared, but he was not able to sleep tonight either. Lilac eyed had rested on the puppy sitter’s sleeping form for a while after he had given up getting any sleep, but he did not want to awake her and risking a short reprimand for being awake at such an hour. Conor had moved into Alexey’s bedroom after Emwe had come to live with them in the puppy sitter’s cabin. He did not know exactly why, but he quite liked to have someone else in the room, especially if it was the caring care taker that had been both his mother and father ever since she had found his weak and life drained body in Halifax.
Without a sound, the boy slipped out of the large double bed and quietly sneaked out of the room and the cabin. Once outside, that pale lavender searched for the faint flickering of the stars, but the velvet clouds shut the sight out with their slow dance across the sky. The boy had not yet lived to see his sixth full moon, but he stood there in the optime form, the one he already had started to adopt before most others on his own age even started thinking about full body shifts between four legs and two. Cwmfen nic Graine had well proved to him that few things were impossible if the mind was set on it. The boy was already quite comfortable moving about in that strange alien body, finding it quite to his liking. The boy’s feet carried him away from those that he loved so that the restlessness could be better coped with. Faster, faster it went, and the boy was soon sprinting through the forest, quickly reaching the borders and going beyond. He pondered where that well known fear was localized. His head was empty for his old friends. Misery had kept a lot of company, but now there was only Conor Soul inside there.
When he reached the point where the air tasted of those petite raindrops, he stopped, not yet out of breath. His legs slowly gave after for the weight of the rest of his body, and the boy slowly slid down to that soft, grassy ground. The dew (or was it the rain water?) gave the world a delicate and glossy appearance, like a world of teardrops. Small pinches of cold from the many drops tickled him comfortably. It was lovely. Conor found it odd, the fact that he could find such pleasures in simple things like these. An ear flickered to prevent a few drops to run down into his ear as his mind brought him away from the presence. His father did not appreciate what he was, but there were other individuals that seemed to find him worthy of many things. He was slowly learning what friendship was. Devotion. Perhaps also there was a fleeting hint of love for that doll faced Catalyst? He did not want to think about such sticky, icky things though. The young male had not seen the white female lately though, and pondered where she could be.
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[html] http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b171/ ... table1.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> WC: 502
It's lovely, as always! ^-^ Added hover-translations for the French.
The warm summer night seemed to stretch endlessly before him, the dark sky roiling with clouds as far as the eye could see. It had been rain, rain, rain for days, and while the occasional crashes of thunder were exciting, a certain someone yearned to bask in the sun. The deluded monarch, a light sleeper, had spent the past month wandering and spying on scent trails and avoiding his duties, and already he was ready to wander some more. It was in his nature, moods ever-changing, turbulent and unpredictable. It was hard for him to stay in one place.
Jacquez padded along the damp grass, traversing over the ridge into his territory's copse of forest, continuing aimlessly north. He heard the scuffling sounds of a doe in the thicket, startled by his swift appearance. "Ne t'inquiétes pas, ma cherie, I am not the hunting sort," he crooned, deep voice spooking the ungulate into flight. She bounded gracefully away, only the white flag of her tail clearly visible in the gloom. He barked a laugh, amused at the herbivore's skittish reaction, before ambling further. At Ruri's bequest, Heath had sought him out and ended his sojourn. Would the sensitive pair be upset upon learning that he had snuck out again? He would return before daybreak, he promised himself. It was just a midnight run. Besides, there were no laws prohibiting a king from leaving his kingdom! No harm done, eh?
The one-armed hybrid scratched his chest idly, dark eyes calmly studying the unfamiliar meadow where he found himself. In the light, he might have a better sense of his bearings, but beneath the cloak of darkness, all this northern wilderness appeared the same. His wide footpaws were damp from the wetness of the grass, a chill sensation. The collie-hybrid could not suppress a small shudder - he did not mind wet, but he detested cold. The sweltering humidity of summer was a familiar and welcome meteorological development. His thin feathery fur supported it, and it reminded him deeply of his southern home. Not that he missed the putrid swamps, but heat was better than cold, any time.
As he frowned, shifting from footpaw to footpaw, his darting eyes caught sight of a dark shape upon the ground. It appeared to be a body... Short and spindly, with larger ears and feet than a wolf that had grown into their form. A child, then. Jac had little experience with children, and preferred to treat them like small inquisitive adults. "Are you dead, petit enfant?" he spoke suddenly, the idea occurring to him. It was rather late for an unsupervised pup to wander in the unclaimed territories. There were dangerous predators that stalked the night. Like the blue-eyed demon, the one he kept hoping he might run into on a night such as this... The thought caused excitement to well up within his energetic frame, and the tall dog stooped over the little werewolf, nudging him with a toe before the child could reply.
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300, D:
Conor had been born out of darkness. He had abandoned his father’s legacy and turned his face towards the sun and love for the life that flourished everywhere. His fingertips caressed those tiny drops on the ground, but shattered them in the progress. Things were much better now than they had ever been, but there were still too many things he wanted. Did that mean that he was egoistic? Fear distracted him from his trail of thoughts as something large came up next to him. The boy’s fur rose and his figure curled together as he thought of that badger all those months ago. He would be larger than his old enemy if he met that predator again, but the nightmares did not change, and that badger would always be larger and nastier. It would always chase the lilac eyed boy; chase him to the end of the world and back.
The tip of the large werewolf’s foot nudged the boy, and he looked up at the larger creature with magnified eyes, wondering why he had been so stupid to leave the house and travel outside of Dahlia in the middle of the night. He did not understand the last line of the man’s words either. He understood that it was most likely another language, but it sounded nothing like Cat’s German. ”No.” he muttered slowly, ears flattened against his head. The adult smelled of far away, and Conor did absolutely not trust him. He sat still for only a moment before he decided to get up on his feet, though not with much elegance. Balance was something that seemed to come gradually. ”I’m not dead.” Would this adult want to change that?
His hands found the insides of his arms, and he looked cold, though it was more a gesture of his insecurity. Those large violet pools never left the man. The man’s eyes looked black. Black was dark, dark was evil.
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[html] http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b171/ ... table1.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> WC: 331
Those calm black eyes watched impassively as the child stirred and rose. The boy's ears fell flat, his shining eyes wide in the gloom of the night. Jacquez tilted his head slightly, pursing his lips as he let his gaze stray to the young wolf's uncomfortable posturing. He would have been quite interested to learn who the youth's parents were, but without the imagination to guess, he could care less at this point. After all, the truly great were without parents whatsoever. Genetic materials were not required for scions of heavenly bodies such as the sun...
Pleased with that line of thought, a small smirk played on the one-armed canine's muzzle. "Not dead, then? What brings you out into the cover of the night, all by your lonesome? You a stray?" There was a young wolf about the same age as this fellow in his own kingdom, but he had never made an effort to meet with Mael Addeins. His mood swings might be unpredictable, but it was still rare for him to humor those younger than him - unless, of course, they were of the female persuasion. But there was no one else to listen to him speak out here, other than skittish deer and bats, and perhaps he could cultivate a sort of hero-worship in the lonely boy. Yes, that's what he would do. That sounded like a fun idea.
Jacquez squatted on his haunches, letting his one arm trail into the dewy grass. Up close, he noticed the particular shade of violet in the youth's gleaming irises, a pretty color. He felt a dark pang of jealousy - his dogkind might have more fanciful fur, but their eyes were plain. It was wolves that sported every glittering jewel in their intense gazes. He frowned petulantly, staring openly into the unknown wolf's face. He had never been one to respect personal space - or to notice the discomfort he so often invoked, either. "Ils sont comme des améthystes ..."
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300+
Then, and just then, Conor realized something. The adult only had one arm. Like, one of his arms just was not there. Conor inhaled slowly, but the exhale seemed to take its time. Conor knew how rude it was to stare at someone, but no matter how hard he tried he could not seem to find the strength to remove his pastel gaze from the missing.. arm. The boy had yet to come up with any theories about the missing limb, but it would take a while before the shock would settle. It was very frightening and uncomfortable, but the boy was also intrigued. Just by the fact that a wolf had one arm instead of two.
Ears flicked forward to take in the adult’s words, but the silence had settled again and done so for a little while before Conor’s frozen brain seemed to catch up on the man’s words. Suddenly the exhale finally made it, and the boy swallowed a deep mouthful of air rather noisily as he started to breathe again. Those lavender eyes turned to those painted with black, but the silent apology in the boy’s orbs was obvious. ”No stray, I live in Dahlia, which is north of here.” the boy turned slightly and pointed in the general direction of his flowery home.
”I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a walk, and I like dew, so I sat down.” That was it, basically. Ears flattened again with that discomfort when the adult squatted down on two orange haunches and stared at him. The boy leaned slightly backwards, wishing he was home. ”Please don’t hurt me?” the boy replied when the man again spoke those odd, yet oddly pretty lines that he could not understand. This man did not act in a threatening way, but Conor was far from comfortable with being so close to an absolute stranger.
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[html] http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b171/ ... table1.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> WC: 651
ooc: Jacquez's kind of a jackass. :3 Sorry for my usual delay.
The young wolf appeared to be awestruck by Jacquez's charismatic entrance, and the king preened under the attention, smirking as he was openly stared at. It took his ego a moment to notice that it was his amputation in particular that held the boy's frightened gaze, and the calculating gleam in his dark eyes shone as he jumped to concoct another story of false heroism. Which tall tale had he not used in a while? Struck by lightning was a classic, or the ship's mast collapsing onto him, that had a nice nautical edge... This little wolf was clearly curious (and guilty for his bold observation), but he didn't seem straightforward enough to ask directly...
"'Dahlia'... Knew I recognized that scent. The midnight woman with the moon eyes, she's one of your leader-types, n'est-ce pas? And two of my former packmates were former packmates of yours as well." He smiled knowingly, tapping his muzzle with a clever grin. He was a very knowledgeable king, at least when it came to pretty faces. He couldn't recall that black wolf's name, though, had Firefly mentioned it at all? He had been distracted by the blue markings accentuating her slender frame. The flower pack had nice girls. And the blue-eyed demon, of course, but his likeness was quickly pushed aside for more interesting goings-on.
"I live in the Cour des Miracles kingdom, south of here! And I could not sleep either, I rarely do. That gives us something in common, eh?" Jacquez snorted derisively as the small werewolf cringed away from him, uttering a half-hearted plea. Was he really so impressive so as to provoke fear? He was dashing, certainly; roguish with a weathered charm, perhaps, but not brutish and threatening. Distinguished nobility could hardly be considered dangerous at face value. With an effort, he shrugged it off, replying, "Ne t'inquiétes pas, fret not, I have no interest in hunting tonight. You would be but a tiny morsel anyway! I was hunted once, though, you know. It happened before you were born, on a night not unlike this one..." The collie hybrid's fangs flashed in the moonlight as he leaned closer, his voice a husky whisper as he shared his newest falsehood.
"Arrows rained from the sky without warning, peppering the ground about me. I had no idea who was firing, so I had no choice but to flee - but I could not run faster than the projectiles, and I was pinned against a tree. An arrow - no, three, five arrows! - had gone clean through my left arm, trapping me against the trunk. I caught my breath, unwilling to cry out in pain-" - here Jacquez bit his lip dramatically, imitating what he suspected was a noble and stoic grimace - "-and the hunter emerged, a massive werewolf triple my size. He licked his lips and said he would eat me the next morning, so I should stay put and wait for my end."
The mad king sank back onto his haunches, regarding the young Dahlian with his inky-black gaze. After a suspenseful pause, he let a small smile curl onto his muzzle, readying the exciting conclusion. "I was not ready to be eaten. So when the werewolf with the arrows slipped back into the woods, I took a deep breath, closed my eyes - and with a mighty roar, I wrenched free of the tree and ran, leaving my arm tacked to the tree as a consolation prize for the hunter. No one has ever made an attempt on my life since - it is a badge of courage, to sacrifice a limb to save one's life. No one else is brave enough to challenge me." He tilted his head at a rakish angle, hoping he would look the part. That anecdote had been spun quite well, in his "humble" opinion. But was it enough to entertain a child?
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