M - trust in me and fall as well.

Harlowe D'Angelo · 07-15-2010, 05:28 AM

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WARNING This thread contains allusion to strong sexual content starting with the 7th post. Reader discretion is advised.

HERP HERP DERP ((320))

Oh, this place felt strange and wrong anymore. The tawny-furred youth, now nine months and fully grown, paced about the very perimeter of the Valley territory, his jade-colored eyes wide and frantic. He searched the darkness for someone he knew would not come. Larkspur had said it the last time he had seen him; he would not come to Harlowe. Harlowe would have to go to him. The tawny-furred youth emitted a low whine, crossing his arms over his chest. He had not been in his lupus form in almost as long as he hadn't seen Larkspur; it was now used exclusively in the rare instance Harlowe needed to travel at a distance.

Not that distance travel was very much a part of his life—the last time he had left the Valley territory to seek out his father, he had gotten hopelessly lost. That had been nearly two months ago, and the cream-furred youth had barely seen anyone since. He had become a shut-in, living in a small bear cave he'd found. It had was long abandoned, and Harlowe had since filled it to the brim with books and notebooks. He had learned to write almost fluently, and now he was frantically scribbling his ideas down as they came to him. He had written down everything Larkspur had ever said to him a hundred times or more—every conversation was burned into the cream-furred youth's mind, searing more brightly than anything he'd ever known. Even mother was a distant memory now.

He headed back to this bear cave once more, uncertainty and nervousness both blooming in his chest. He did not know what was ahead of him—he knew so little about his mythical uncle and even less about his current homeland, but what he knew sang and called to him in such a way that it was impossible to ignore, and now Harlowe knew nothing but the answer.

Rio Marino · 07-17-2010, 05:16 AM

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300+

Rio spent as little time in Phoenix Valley as possible. She had never felt like she was a part of the pack, with her parents all but abandoning her there while they led their own lives. It was hard for her to belong in such a place. She occupied her time wandering elsewhere instead, even sleeping some of her nights away from the Valley. All the while, it seemed strangely like there was change looming around the corner. Her life was lonely and monotonous, leaving the young woman both fearful and excited by the thought of change.

She had left her fox under the porch of the cabin her family had once shared, where he often liked to rest away from the unforgiving summer sun. He wanted to accompany her into the forest, but she had insisted that he stay behind to sleep; he was still growing. The ebony wolfess started into the trees, her senses searching for familiarity, one of her siblings, perhaps. She had not seen Harlowe for weeks, her sisters similarly scarce but not quite to such an extreme. Her brother crossed her mind often — she was worried about him.

Her expression brightened when a faint scent came toward her on a gentle breeze. Harlowe. Here was the recognition she sought. Shifting directions, the skinny werewolf jogged toward the source of the welcome aroma. It took her through the most deeply forested area of her homeland until she at last spotted an old, rocky cave. What was this place? It seemed the sort of cavern where monsters hid. Rio touched the smooth wall of the cave's entrance, letting her eyes adjust to the dimmer light within. Harlowe? she called with soft uncertainty in her voice. The girl wondered if her brother could really be here, and why. He belonged in the cabin with her. She did not understand why her family had become so torn apart.

Harlowe D'Angelo · 07-19-2010, 04:39 AM

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Word Count :: hnngh

His mother was no long here. She had gone away, and though he had heard the reasoning from his aunt and from his father, though he had discussed it at length with himself in the pages of his notebooks, he still did not understand, and this ached like abandonment. He knew it was not truly abandonment, for Naniko had left him and his sisters in the care of their aunt and more family than Harlowe truly realized, but even so, the creamy-furred youth could not help the feeling of betrayal that crept through him. Larkspur would never leave him; once he proved himself to the sable-furred man, once he proved he was able to accept whatever darkness the ghost had to grant him—Larkspur would never abandon him after that moment.

He shuffled almost aimlessly through his things, his jade eyes scanning each of the titles of the books as he picked some to keep and some to leave behind. If he could have taken them all, he would have, but he did not know that he could return once he left. He did not know the leadership of this pack beyond his name, Jefferson. Would he be shunned for having left in the first place? It did not matter, so long as Larkspur accepted him. That was all that mattered. A soft noise at the entrance to the cave caused the young man's head to snap about, his jade-colored eyes regarding the entrance to his small cave. A shadowed figure lurked there, having passed beyond his notice until that moment. “Rio,” he said dully, returning almost immediately to his sorting. She was not important in this moment; he had to move and he had to go, and he had to do so immediately.

Rio Marino · 07-22-2010, 06:23 PM

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300+

Rio knew that she was loved by some, that there were wolves within Phoenix Valley who cared for her as family should. Any number of loving individuals could not replace parents, especially since there was a time that her parents had been what they were supposed to be for her and her siblings. She didn't understand why Naniko had left them in the care of Xeris. It was something she questioned on a daily basis, something that lingered below the surface at all times, even when she had days of happiness. Recently, Lucia had told her about Naniko's past and the drugs she had used. It set some pieces in place for the sooty young woman — however, now she worried that her mother had returned to her harmful ways. She worried that Naniko was dead.

She tried to ignore the reality of her parents' lack of love for her. The girl had been able to fight that excruciating depression many times in the past few months, in accordance with her maturity. She had slipped up only once or twice. As she stepped into the cave, with its darkness in which her beautiful, perfect brother hid, she felt herself falling. He spoke her name with flat impatience and returned to rummaging around in his books, gathering them together as if he was preparing to leave. She sensed that he did not want her there, but why? The girl remembered the hours they had spent together in Red Vine Hollow, reading, enjoying their time together. Harlowe did not seem the same as on that day. There was a change. Something seemed terribly amiss about him. Her belly twisted upon itself, sending waves of anxious pain throughout her muscles.

Cautiously, she took another few steps toward the tawny wolf, hand rising to grip her chest. ...Wh-what are you doing? her voice quavered softly. Nevertheless, she moved to rest her other hand lightly upon his shoulder. She was soothed by the warmth of his fur beneath her hand. Maybe he would talk to her about what was bothering him, and she would help. He would take her into his arms and they would comfort one another.

Surely he wasn't leaving her, too.

Harlowe D'Angelo · 07-27-2010, 03:57 AM

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Word Count :: 468 omg creeper

Despite the abandonment, the cream-shaded youth saw nothing but love for his mother. Despite what everyone said, despite what he believed on the surface, there was some desperately clinging hope within him that she had left for good reason. The chocolate-tipped youth was hardly resentful of the pallid ghost for leaving; he simply did not understand, and this had driven him to the point of madness. Maybe Larkspur had the answers to these questions, as well—the D'Angelo boy could not say for sure, but he had to find out. Somewhere out there, he was waiting, the man with pumpkin-orange eyes and fur like a shadow flecked with silver. Larkspur was both god and the devil to Harlowe; he represented the youth's own abandonment of everything he knew, the comfort and safety net of his family and his familiarity in Phoenix Valley. Even still, he was knowledge, he was power, he contained the answers, and he would not grant this to Harlowe until the first step had been completed. Was this then part of that test? Had Rio been sent to him for this purpose, then?

Everything about Harlowe would have seemed to decry religion; he was a logical and methodical type, yet he did not require scientific proof for belief. He was not a creature entirely lacking in faith, and something in him believed that this was a test. Rio would try to stop him, and maybe she would succeed for a moment or two, but this was destiny itself calling and yanking him over the borders of his homeland and unto territories unknown. Now he stopped shuffling things about madly, ceasing his wild movements. A single book remained clutched in his hands, though he had yet to look back toward his sister or even so much twitch an ear in her direction as she spoke. “You know.” There was the edge of accusation in his tone. How dare she come here and pretend? She had been sent here and called here just as he was being sent and called to Dahlia de Mai; something in her had pushed her here, and she had followed its siren's scream just as certainly as he pursued the one emanating from Larkspur.

“You can't stop me. I won't let you,” he said, standing now. He was still young, and he was impossibly long and bony, awkwardly stooped in this narrow, tiny cave. Even as the creamy-hued youth looked on her with wild olive eyes, his fingers and limbs trembling, there was love and sorrow wrapped into him. Neither of them had any choice—fate wound their strings tightly, and they were twisted together, impossible to untangle. The book slid out of his hands, thudding against the floor loudly. There was not so much as an echo in the tiny cave.

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