the first flower after the flood.
#1
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Word Count :: 545 START PLOT NAOW. -itchy for thread!!!- <3 Red Vine Hollow. :3 Also flaghaghaugh ramble. :| Sorry.


The tawny-furred youth was on a mission today. His dark-furred ears twitched this way and that as he walked, always rotating around to pick up the sounds of the world. His chocolate-hued muzzle often tilted into the breeze, still trying to figure out this thing that was the wide world. He didn't quite have a grasp on even his own packlands yet, though he was certainly old enough—he was an adult rank, after all. Even so, the creamy-colored man had difficulty with tasks that should have been instinctual. He still struggled with learning the packlands, though by now he was quite familiar with how to get to Dahlia de Mai. That didn't matter right now, though—someone had told them there were books in the packlands.



Harlowe needed to seek those things out, of course. It was important that he read everything he could get his hands on. He had been pretty much buried in books since Naniko had taught him to read; perhaps that was partially why he had not really grown out of his shell yet. He had neglected reality for the knowledge and fantasy that existed in books—for it was true, he didn't only enjoy his dictionary. He had a love for good fiction, as well, and thus far he had yet to encounter a book he had to put down. They were all readable, all with something to gain from them—he was learning a lot about humanity, though there were certainly things that were completely alien to him. He didn't understand the human concept of money and why it was so important. Even missing these huge chunks of culture, there was still so much enjoyment to be derived from books.


The foliage around him grew steadily red, with thick vines wrapping about the trunks of trees. He was in the right place, thankfully. It didn't take him long after that to find the cabin, tucked away as it was. Jiggling the door handle, he opened it slowly. There were not many very fresh scents around here; he doubted anyone was inside but Harlowe didn't wish to startle anyone. He hated being startled and interrupted; he didn't wish to inflict it on anyone else. A quick sweep over the room brought his jade-colored eyes to the books, and he trotted over eagerly, prying them from the shelf. There weren't many, and they weren't his—he couldn't take them forever. But they wouldn't be missed for a few days, either.


He left the door open for the breeze and settled down to the old couch in the corner, tucking his legs up and propping the book on his thighs. Almost immediately he was immersed in the book, as it was a collection of short stories by several authors, and he was able to finish a story very quickly. They were enjoyable and each had a wonderful twist near the end, some that left him rather perplexed. He hardly noticed when the door began to creak with the increasing wind, the smell of rain suddenly drenching the air. A flash of lightning and a crack of thunder certainly caught his attention, and Harlowe looked up sourly into the blackened sky, frowning. He would be stuck here for a while, it seemed.

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#2
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-dies- I love Sie writing, I dooz, I dooz!! 300+







The sky was gray and hinted of rain with its chilly breeze and darkening clouds. Rio spent the hours out of doors, exploring her beloved home even more deeply than ever before. It was the perfect day for this, warm but with the frost of the spring breeze. She could have remained in the woods and fields searching for flowers all afternoon, even through the rain. Rain didn't bother her, and she loved the cleansing it brought to the earth. But her footsteps took her elsewhere of interest, as hues of crimson thickened to blot away green and brown. This was a beautiful place, vines thickly entwining the trunks of the trees. There was life and color and all manner of lovely things surrounding her. What a wealth she had stumbled upon!


The sooty girl ventured still further into the depths of the forest, surprised when her path lead her to an inconspicuous cabin. Its presence didn't surprise her; cabins were not an uncommon sight in Phoenix Valley. But its secluded nature was something new, and the wonder of it drew her closer, until four white paws rested against the boards of the porch. The door was open, but inside was dark enough to render her blind. Had the wind blown the old door ajar? There was something eerie here, a chill that went deeper into her flesh than the wind could penetrate. She was unsettled, but oh so curious; she could not linger on the porch any longer.


Rio entered the dark, silent cabin, ears erect and nose twitching, for she sought a solution to the mystery it posed. But it seemed brighter once she was inside, and her periwinkle eyes lit quickly upon the lax form of a flaxen werewolf, stretched across the couch. It was only Harlowe. There was nothing to fear. He had a book open, a characteristic of his, and she smiled shyly as she approached to sit a few feet away from his upper half. "Harlowe! You found this place, too," she said quietly, respecting the calm of the cabin and of Harlowe himself.


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table by alli ♥

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#3
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shooort. ;;


Upon noticing the tempestuous outside, Harlowe had only paid it a moment's notice before returning to his book. It would only further decrease his light, and that was all. But Harlowe was young, and his strong eyes could see just fine in the steadily-dimming light. He continued reading even as the rain began to fall outside, drumming steadily against the roof of the cabin and the ground outside, saturating the air with the scent of fresh rain. It was a nice smell, and Harlowe breathed it in, appreciating that scent almost as much as his favorite—the slightly musty, slightly moldy scent of most of the old human books. There was nothing quite like that smell.


A few moments later, he became aware of another presence—the distinctive sounds of footprints on the porch alerted the tawny-furred male to that other canine, peeking up from his book in time to see his sister walk in the door. At that, he returned too his book, content to allow her to speak first and initiate conversation. If she didn't, he was just as content to keep on reading—he spent a lot of time with his siblings, and it was only now that he was growing older that he had begun to branch off. Rio entered and settled down next to him on the couch and spoke, causing him to look up once more. “It's a good thing you found it, too, or you'd be out in the rain,” he said, half a smile on his face. “How are you?” he asked. His pale eyes were on her face, studying the inherent muliebrity in its youthful features.

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#4
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...fail



They had just seen each other very recently, but this did nothing to dampen Rio's happiness. After all, they had happened to arrive in the secluded cabin at the same time. But it also didn't fail to occur to her that Harlowe might have come here seeking sanctuary, perhaps unappreciative of her intrusion. Her eyes were tentative as they roved his face, brows drawn as she searched uncertainly for signs of irritation. The only notable discovery in her brother's face was the concentration his features bore, a mild expression seen when he had a book open at his nose. Rio often wondered why she hadn't taken the time to learn about words if using such knowledge was an enjoyable pastime for Harlowe. She spent a large fraction of her time outside wandering — maybe this was the explanation. Maybe exploring kept he occupied enough. She would undoubtedly learn how to read when she had seen all of Phoenix Valley that she cared to.

His response deterred her from her fear of his disturbance, for his words were almost genial. He even put on a bit of a smile for her, which resulted in a more dramatic, beaming one from the sable girl. It's pouring, she noted absently to him, with a glance toward the rain beaten window. I'm very good, and you? Her tone was bright, with sparkling eyes flitting again in his direction. As she spoke, she leaned against a frail arm to look more closely at his book, studying the maze of symbols she couldn't hope to comprehend. Rio glanced up at him, the purest form of wonder burning in her eyes, perhaps staring a little. She meant no harm.

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table by alli ♥

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#5
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<3333~ Rio is sweet. ^_^


It was rare for the tawny-furred youth to have sought the outside world prior to speaking with Cerridwyn, the first time he'd spoken to someone not in his family. Larkspur didn't count—even if Harlowe hadn't known he was family at first, he was still family. Prior to speaking with Cerri, however, Harlowe had never uttered a single word to anyone outside of his immediate family and Larkspur—even during the family meeting in Crimson Dreams, Harlowe had been too overwhelmed by how many of them there were to utter a single word, and so that portion of his family had not heard hims speak, either.


“I wanted to take some books home, so I won't be departing until it has stopped,” he said matter-of-factly. It was not worth it to him to have come all the way out here and not take a few home with him. “I'll return them,” he said, motioning to the pile of books he'd selected to bring with him. There were three or four in a haphazard stack on the desk. He shrugged his shoulders at her question. “The same,” the youth commented. He was never very good or very bad, it seemed—there was a strange apathy about Harlowe, though he had felt emotion boiling and brewing beneath the surface of things before, and so he knew he was not broken. Nervousness had overtaken him before, and so he knew he could feel things—it just seemed as if only the most powerful ones had any serious effect.

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#6
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fank you! <3



Harlowe had been a mystery to Rio since her first conscious interaction with him. From her perspective, he had not seemed to pick up language in the same way that she and their sisters had, rarely uttering even a single word. Though she loved him dearly, the sable girl always felt slightly anxious when she was around him simply because there seemed to be so much going on behind the jade eyes that he never shared with anyone (at least not with her). It never even occurred to her that he was mentally inhibited because of the intelligence that was so clear to her in his face, his eyes. She just did not know who he was. The Tueris hadn't the slightest idea of what her brother did with his time, for she never saw him among their pack mates or playing with the other children as she did. Luckily, she had grasped the concept of differences with a firm grip, and harbored no ill judgment of her soft spoken brother. She only wished he would share some of his thoughts with her.



Her gaze left the open book to follow his gesture toward the pile of books he'd accumulated. They gave her a marvelous idea. Oh, I will stay with you, she offered, ears lifting in emphasis of her sincerity. I'll help you carry them. That way you can take more. Perhaps if she showed him that she cared in this way, he would open up a bit more — some day. She turned to face him, ears falling back, and nibbled her lower lip. Her voice softened when she spoke again. If you would like me to.

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table by alli ♥

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#7
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Big Grin He'd probably read this story here to her. I read it in high school! XD


Harlowe had certainly been slow to pick up on speech, but that had not meant his mind was not functioning anyway; even if he did not know how to verbalize his thoughts, they had been there, lurking beneath the surface. Learning to read had certainly helped, Harlowe thought—it was seeing the characters in his stories interacting so easily that had maybe first helped him to grow a little more confident, confident enough to speak to Cerridwyn on his own, without anyone there to help him. The tawny-shaded youth had grown exponentially in his social skills the last few months, but he was nowhere near perfect, and maybe he never would be. Howver, all of his discomfort primarily extended to non-family; he was comfortable enough around his siblings and his mother and father.


Rio spoke, and the jade-eyes of the youth focused on her face as she spoke, comfortable with making eye contact with her. This was a marked difference from most of his other interactions; where adults were concerned, Harlowe generally refused to even look in their general direction. It made talking too hard; he much preferred to keep his muzzle to the ground. “That would be nice, Rio,” Harlowe said, a rare smile crossing his chocolate-furred muzzle. “Do you want me to read you a story?” the tawny-furred youth said, thinking this would pass the time between now and whenever the storm ended.

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#8
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sweet! will read between now and the next time I post in this thread. ♥


Their shyness was something that they shared, that they could learn to understand about one another. Rio rarely felt comfortable looking adults directly in the eye, either — she didn't know why it was so hard, as it seemed like an easy enough thing to do. She didn't know that it was her sense of inferiority that lead her eyes astray. The sable girl could easily make eye contact with equals, but she was thus far blind to this subconscious connection. It was somehow more difficult to look into her brother's eyes than her sisters', however, so perhaps in some compartment of her mind, the dark young woman thought Harlowe had some advantage over her that was unnameable.


She was easing into a place of contentment, glad he didn't care if she stayed with him. Part of her wanted nothing more than to rest her curly head against him and to listen to him speak (he had such a nice voice), but she couldn't dare herself to do something so bold. Instead, she simply nodded, glancing again at the book he held in his tawny hands with a half-smile. Please, she said encouragingly. She was startled by his offer, that he wished to do something so kind for her. The bright-eyed youth lifted her limbs from over the side of the couch so she could sit back on her heels, oriented parallel to the back cushions of the couch so she could face him without craning her neck. Her hands she rested in her lap, folded neatly. She was relaxed enough to listen and enjoy the story Harlowe had to share.

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#9
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FAAAAAIL SIE IS FAIIIIIL |:


Harlowe enjoyed reading, and he enjoyed reading aloud—often when he was certain he was alone, he would begin mouthing the words, working himself up to a whisper and then to normal talking volume, though he never dared to shout the words or speak them louder than he needed to. Harlowe was a naturally quiet canine, and he had never shouted in his life, really. Rio seemed excited at the prospect of sharing a story with him, and Harlowe didn't find the idea too disagreeable—he was rather interested to think of what Rio thought of the story he had just finished. It was by a human who had been very famous—Mark Twain was his name, and Harlowe now understood a few references more recent authors had made in the spirit of this man's works.


[assume the story is here? XD]


The tawny-shaded wolf smiled as he finished the story, his jade-colored eyes looking to his sister to find her reaction on it. Harlowe thought it was particularly amusing that the old man had gone off on such an irrelevant tangent, and he thought it even more amusing that the stranger had been able to trick the gambling fool in the story. The chocolate-tipped wolf looked up at his sister inquisitively, prompting for her reaction to the story.

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#10
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sie does not fail. >Sad want to wrapums this up soon? get on with juiciness?


The sable wolfess was eager to hear her brother tell the tale that was written so mysteriously on the pages of the book. Though unsure of what to expect, she was eager, apparent in the smile that graced her lips. He began, and the girl let her eyes lose focus, her mind concentrating on the story and nothing else. His voice was smooth, carrying the words of the story beautifully — he never spoke above his usual volume, yet every word he read was clear, painting pictures in her mind's eye that were easy to see. Her brow rose, or her face took on a smile at the appropriate points in the tale. She had never been so entertained before.


The pale-footed girl giggled at the end of the last line in the tale, periwinkle eyes beaming. That was wonderful, Harlowe! she exclaimed, her voice soft. I love the story. It was more creative than she had expected. She especially enjoyed the characters that the author had invented. The Tueris wondered how much thought and time it had taken come up with something like the spectacular tale. A fanciful creature, Rio's imagination was vast; she had always enjoyed composing fantastical stories to herself while she played, most often alone. She'd done so since her youngest days. Humans, in their time, had been able to note their fantasies in books to stay in the world eternally. The girl was surprised by how elaborate their fantasies could be. You are very good at reading... I would like to learn some day.

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#11
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Closing after my post! Whenever you've read, request for archivey? :3


The creamy-furred youth was glad his sister had enjoyed the story. He thought it was quite a good story and pretty funny, too—he particularly enjoyed the multiple layers of the story. Even so, he didn't fully comprehend all of the human aspects of the story, and he was glad Rio did not question him where he could not provide an answer. Instead, his sable-furred sibling was content to have enjoyed the story for what it was—a humorous old-timey tale. Sometimes it was far better to simply enjoy books, though Harlowe did particularly enjoy thinking about books. If something bothered him in a story, it tended to stick with him, and he turned it over and over in his mind until he figured a solution to it. “I'm glad you liked it,” he said, the tip of his tail wagging slowly. Rio complimented him, to which Harlowe could only smile, lowering his muzzle in embarrassment. “Thank you. If you want, I could try to teach you sometime,” he said. He wasn't Mother—he knew he wouldn't be as good at teaching Rio to read as she had been in teaching him to read.

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