[html] 496Harlowe. Set at Nereid.
With increasing frequency there were nights Nayru opted not to return at all to the home she shared with so many others. The heat of the summer was actually rather quite pleasant after the sun had dipped below the horizon and the breeze kicked up. Standing atop the cliffs on the west shore of Dahlia’s peninsula the effect of the breeze was twice as pleasant, even greater when the breeze came up off the salted water’s surface. It was there Nayru had begun to spend some solitary nights, which no one questioned her about. At six months, closer to seven, she was fine on her own, at least within the pack lands. Though ever friendly and polite to all she chose to spend more and more time alone, even as she grew closer to Conor and Gideon. And Nayru was sure that with this sudden streak of independence the white lady had left her. If the white lady had ever been a separate being at all.
Only weeks before Nayru had accepted the dream creature’s presence every night as reality. Now she was not so certain. If the older wolf had been real, why did she leave now? Nayru began to believe it had been childish fantasies. And that night, the last time Nayru saw the white lady, when she had actually appeared outside of a dream, Nayru wrote that off too. She had been tired and thinking too hard. Spirits and dreams and such did not exist, not outside of one’s own mind. Even that cat, the one she had almost though was a spirit, so strange, it was just a cat. How silly she had been. Now though, now Nayru felt she was at the half way point to adulthood. She could shape her own mind, question reality, forget her naive beliefs as errors of childhood, and it was easier to do these things alone, at night, and especially overlooking the water crashing against the shore fifty feet below.
Nereid, as that was what the place was called Nayru learned, was beautiful. Wolfville was alright, Berwick almost beautiful and the vineyards were secluded and lonely most days. Nereid was abandoned but not lonely, at least not during the night. Too comfortable in herself to feel lonely, Nayru pondered her growing fondness for some of the lands in Dahlia de Mai. Before she had come here because she had been told to, she had not thought it over, but now Nayru didn’t see a reason to leave. She liked Dahlia, the spring, the island with the birds, and these cliffs. She liked the members of the pack, they were, in general, good wolves. Yes, she would stay. But in Conor’s house? She wasn’t sure, there might be a time when she preferred her old room there to the solitude of Nereid, but if she was going to jump into her own self and away from the others now was as good a time as any.
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Dude. Dude. Dude. Seriously, this is the first thread we've had since I am back. I AM DISAPPOINT WITH THIS.  ((391))
The creamy-furred youth was settling into Dahlian lifestyle already, despite having been there only a few days. It was not so different from life in the Valley, then again he hadn't expected it to be. Already he had claimed a home in the outskirts of Berwick, leaving ample distance between his own residence and Larkspur's home. He did not want to suffocate the sable-furred man, and Harlowe's presence in Dahlia de Mai was not an indication that he was dependent on his uncle. Such a thing was counterproductive to his purpose, to say the please. He had come here to prove he no longer required his mother or his sisters or any of his old life; he had to purge everything and become pure. He had to show Larkspur that he was ready to abandon the attachments he had developed thus far, giving everything he knew for what the sable-shaded man had to offer. Without cleansing himself—with fire and pain if necessary—he would never learn what Larkspur needed him to learn.
Though the tawny youth still could not hunt large prey, he had become quite adept at hunting small prey. Mice and squirrels were his preferred food, as they were relatively easy to snatch if he was quiet and still enough. Without the ability to hunt them, he surely would have starved by now. Before him, he had arranged the corpses of three little mice, having just caught the last one. It was a small meal, but he could not ask aunt Pontiac to hunt for him any longer, and this was how he had to survive. Unlike most canines of his age, forced to subsist on rodents, Harlowe felt no shame as he greedily devoured the mice. He was rather far from his home, to the north of where Larkspur lived. The cream-shaded youth would not see him today, but he was intent on learning these new lands, and as this was not terribly far from his home. He had almost walked past the other canine, failing to detect her by scent or sound as he approached. The pale canine turned to his packmate, mildly surprised. “Hi,” he said awkwardly. He did not know what to make of her patchwork fur—the paler parts of her fur seemed so pretty, and yet the darkened parts were like stains.
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[html] Um WHEN was our last thread together because I am thinking Arlo Xyl and Kaena XD 333
Nayru was not so caught up in her own thoughts that she did not hear the soft foot falls and as they approached and turning her blood colored eyes in the night she saw the male before he saw her. He was almost upon her and far too close before he seemed to start and acknowledge her, she could sense the surprise in his voice. The girl smiled smoothly and dipped her head low in an elegant bow. For as unsure of herself as the adolescent had become, she was sure about many other things. Nayru knew how to be polite and charming. She knew how to read others and speak kindly to them and be warm but mysterious and aloof all at once. Nayru knew social protocol down to the tee, and more recently she had decided to use these skills rather than forget herself in childishness. The black and white pinto wolf had a very adult, controlled air about her, but there was ever present the easy friendliness in her soft, whispery voice.
"Hello sir," The girl could tell that the boy was older than her, but perhaps not but much. Still he was a member of the pack, or in the very least a long term visitor. Nayru could tell this by the way Dahlia’s scent clung heavily to him although not quite like it enveloped her. Aside from one lone venture into Arachnea’s Revenge she had not left the pack lands in nearly three months and Dahlia de Mai saturated her. Still he was of Dahlia now and she showed a quite and somber respect to him, one that she vowed to show to everyone, from Conor down to the youngest Stormbringer pup newly arrived as well. "You are new here?" Her question was phrased so that it was clear they both knew the answer, but asked only to give the fellow an easy opening into explaining his presence and why they hadn’t yet met. "My name is Nayru."
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Holy shit, it probably was. :/ THAT IS REALLY SAD. ;~;
For everything that was impossibly adult about Harlowe from a young age, the cream-furred youth could not demonstrate it. His social phobias and awkwardness prevented him from displaying intelligence, and even if he had not possessed an impediment such as he did, even then the chocolate-tipped youth would not have come near this younger girl's manners and politeness. Harlowe was almost taken aback; he was not so good at determining ages, and he had expected a typical puppy response—generally including slobbering, bouncing around, and high-pitched squeaks. Harlowe dealt with none of this, and it generally drove him insane; he preferred companions his own age or older, when he wanted companionship, anyway.
“Yes. My uncle Larkspur lives here, too. I came to live with him. You were born here?” he asked, figuring this to be an appropriate question to the one she had asked. He didn't know such an assumption could be offensive, of course; the tawny-furred youth had never contemplated that puppies could be born outside and away from packs. “I'm Harlowe D'Angelo,” he responded, proudly tacking the surname on—it was his mother's and his uncle's, and as far as he knew, many more relatives whom he had yet to meet. He had reason to be proud of this name, as he saw it. There was nothing arrogant in the creamy-furred wolf; he was perfectly innocuous in his social bumbling. He simply knew no other way.
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[html] Yeah, I know, we suck! 451
The boy, Harlowe, gave all the right answers but his manner was a bit off. Uneasy perhaps, or just uncomfortable, he did not have the smooth way Nayru did to feel at ease with everything and everyone. Yet the girl did not seem to notice, or if she did she didn’t let on but only smiled at him, her blood colored eyes snatching up every detail without giving so much as a clue to the thoughts that danced just beneath the surface. Nayru knew she acted too old for her age, and much too old for how young she looked, for her body did grew more slowly the older she got and while her face became more adult by the day, she stayed dainty and small. Still for all the grace and good words she used, she was a child beneath the airs, one who did not know how to hunt for herself, and who would ask too many questions given half the chance, although she was beginning to learn tactful and elusive ways to answer all of life’s curiosities.
"It’s a pleasure to meet you Harlowe D’Angelo." Nayru tacked on the last name as he had, although it was her first time being so formal. She had never used anything but first names, given that privilege by her youth, but now, now it was all different and Nayru was determined not to let herself slip up. If others felt their second name important enough to introduce themselves by, then she’d use it, never mind she didn’t have a last name to claim herself. That did not bother her. Nayru didn’t know the importance names could carry, the truth as she knew it was that names were just labels. If others wanted to be so proud about them who was she to argue?
"I was not born here," Nayru did not say this as a correction, although she had in the past when that assumption had come up before. Nayru had never questioned her coming to Dahlia, young that she had been, she accepted that like most events as how the world worked. For the cow patterned girl the world did as it would and she would work around the world, and wherever it placed her or whatever it brought her. "and I don’t know your uncle, although I have lived here three months now." Three months and Nayru still did not know some of the members in the pack who had been here since she came, it was embarrassing for her to admit but she did not show that either. Instead she tried to scoot the conversation along, grasping at what seemed natural questions. "You are very close to Larkspur?"
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Word Count :: 491 OMG HARLOWE IS AWKWARD
The only way the creamy-furred youth would ever conquer his fears and social awkwardness was through being social; though he was learning not everyone was worth being social toward, he was still determined to make his mother proud. Someday, she'd be back, and she would marvel at how her little boy had grown up and made friends and talked to them all the time. Harlowe was not a fool; he knew his early silence was troublesome for his parents, and he knew they wanted only the best for him—and so, he had to try, he had to make friends, even if he didn't really want to. It wasn't the worst thing ever, true—but Harlowe was Harlowe, and he would always prefer his books to friends.
“Thanks,” he said, his ears half-turned, though there was an expression of pleasure on his face. He was genuinely surprised by her expression, surely not realizing he was supposed to offer such a compliment in turn—though it did make him feel strange. Was this what his mother wanted? Pleasing the people who met him? It was a maddening dance to the chocolate-tipped boy; he was not certain where he was supposed to go or what he was supposed to do. The only thing he knew was that something had called him here and demanded him here as sharply as one of his mother's puppy calls, though there had been no noise, no orders... nothing. He had simply felt this feeling, and he had felt its pull far too strongly to ignore it.
“I'm sorry,” he responded, not sure what to say to the circumstances of her birth other than this; he did not know if it was a good thing or a bad thing that Nayru had been born away from Dahlia de Mai. “I wasn't born here, either. I came from Phoenix Valley,” the youth offered, thinking this might be an adequate response in the situation. Harlowe made a faint face, something like a smile, and nodded his head knowingly. It made sense to him that Nayru would not know Larkspur; King had not known Larkspur, either. Conor was the only one who seemed to recognize him by name—if that was the case, then perhaps Larkspur was more of a shut-in than Harlowe had realized at first.
Even so, this only served to strengthen the boy's devotion; it made Larkspur more like him. “I'm not sure how long he's been here—as long as I've known him, I think. But... no, I don't know him very well. Does any of your family live here?” the boy asked, again unaware this might be an offensive question; he simply assumed everyone everywhere had family of some sort and they knew of this family; he was privileged enough to have known his mother and his father, and now through Larkspur, he would discover the older family history, the things not even his mother knew.
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[html] Nayru seems to have run out of questions to ask Harlow. Oops. 555.
Nayru titled her head, just so slightly, and smiled as the boy thanked her. For what? For telling him it was a pleasure to meet him? The girl would have giggled if she didn’t think it would make him feel uncomfortable and instead she just looked upon him warmly, letting the moment pass unacknowledged aside from her easy grin. His strange mannerisms did not bother her, too confident in herself, and she did not think him rude in the slightest. He was pleasant and kind thus far and that’s all Nayru really wanted from others. The only unpleasant character she had ever met was King, and being a member of her pack she accepted him just the same although she tried to avoid him. She was not scared of him, but when she imagined his negative energies trying to soak into her skin the thought alarmed her. Whether it was all made up and she only thought she could feel energy from others, she was uncertain. That too might all be a dream, like the white lady, but Harlowe and his energy did not alarm her.
Nayru did not relax her smile but rather increased it as the boy offered up an apology for her explanation of her birth. At this she did laugh, just a light titter, but one full of mirth and good will. "Don’t be sorry, I was born to a pair of loners but I like Dahlia de Mai very much now. I’m glad to have found it." Well, she hadn’t found it exactly, rather she had been brought here purposefully, but that seemed irrelevant. The white lady bringing her here was as much a dream as the white lady who came to her while she slept. Nayru didn’t think on it anymore. Instead she went on, answering the boy’s question about her relatives. "My parents and sisters are the only family I have, but they aren’t here. " Nor did she know where they were, but that didn’t seem to bother Nayru either.
"I live with Conor Soul right now, and a lot of others too." Nayru spoke as if that made up for missing family. Conor and Bris were like older siblings or adult friends, rather than parents, but they made sure she was fed and taken care of and she had a genuine fondness for them. Gideon filled in any other voids that her sisters’ absence might have left, but her parents and sisters had not left voids. Nayru did not feel sorrow when parted from loved ones, although why she couldn’t exactly explain. Instead she simply accepted life for what it was. "I’m not sure how much longer I want to stay with them though, the house is always crowded. I… I want a house of my own soon. With a garden." Why she shared this with him she wasn’t sure, but it was true. At all hours of the day puppies, half grown youths and adults came and went, even those who did not live there but simply knew the ones that did often showed their face within the Victorian home. Yet at seven months she would only think about leaving, and voice this half-born thought to a boy who probably didn’t know what to do with the idle day dreams of a younger, silly girl.
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(478) HI UM THIS IS LIKE, NOT THE BIGGEST BUTTDRAGGY WAIT EVER.  (((((( I'm so sorry, wowwww. Please feel free to hit me in the face. D:
Such turns of phrase were not generally recognized by Harlowe, who simply did not pay attention often enough to others mannerisms and phrasing to determine that multiple canines used the same expressions or variants thereof; he thought such a thing was a unique compliment given to him. Thankfully, Harlowe was spared the awkwardness of this by his companion's social grace and perhaps even compassion. He was glad there was no implication of being better; they were both on equal ground, as neither were native Dahlians. Did such a thing even matter? Harlowe was not certain; he had not been here long enough to determine their customs, and he had not bothered to learn Phoenix Valley's. He was regretting this immensely, and the tawny-furred boy wished he had a better grasp on what it meant to be in a pack. “I like it, too. It is very nice,” Harlowe said, though if pressed, he would not have been able to determine exactly what it was about the pack that he liked. Perhaps it was that no one bothered him; his sisters and everyone else were elsewhere, and he was the one to seek Larkspur, not the other way around.
“My sisters live in Phoenix Valley, and my father and more family than I know both live in Crimson Dreams. My Mother left, though,” he said. There was a hint of genuine sadness in his voice as he spoke of his mother, and his ears turned back, dropping half-mast. “Do you miss your parents?” he asked hesitantly, unsure if it was right for him to miss mother. His sisters hadn't seemed so bothered, but maybe they were just trying to look tough for him. “I met Conor. He accepted me,” the canine said. There wasn't any hint of pride or feelings about Conor either way expressed in his tone; the chocolate-dipped boy knew he owed it to the Alpha for accepting him in the first place, but he did not know whether or not to like Conor. Larkspur hadn't really spoken of his pack or these packmates, and so Harlowe withheld judgment.
The youth smiled in recognition of this notion in Nayru. “Yes,” he agreed. “It does get so crowded so quickly,” the youth added. Though he had been on his own for some time in the cave before leaving Phoenix Valley, the months spent with his sisters before that were fresh on his mind. He did not truly recall the weeks of isolation he had spent in the Valley pack, though he knew all too well what had happened at the end of it. “I live outside of Berwick. There are some good houses, and lots of plants,” he added, thinking of the natural overgrowth that had spilled over parts of the houses. Some were swallowed entirely by nature, as in many places these days, but others still stood.
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[html] *pats* 405.
Nayru remained poised and composed, although they began to tread on topics she was inexperienced at talking about. Her family, why had she mentioned them? If she missed them she never showed it, and rarely did she think of them as anything more than souls who existed far from her. They were no longer a part of her, not at the present moment anyway. When her sisters joined her, if ever, they would be welcomed warmly, but they were rarely thought of and never missed. The need for them had been replaced, and perhaps too easily, but she had been young and that couldn’t be helped. The black patched girl could barely remember her mother’s sweet voice or her father’s kind face. Yet to simply say “not really” would disappoint Harlowe, Nayru could sense that from how he spoke of his own family. Her answer was padded, but devoid of any real sorrow.
"I was really young when I was separated from them. It’s a shame I didn’t get to know them better." That was not a lie, it was a shame that any child missed out on knowing their true blood family, but that Nayru felt sorry for it wasn’t true. The girl rarely felt sorry for anything, especially situations that were out of her control. She was sorry she couldn’t hunt, and she was sorry when she made a mistake, especially if there was a witness to her blunder, but otherwise she was content with her lot. Dahlia de Mai had engulfed her. The pride and loyalty she felt for the pack was beyond anything the seven month girl had felt before, and she couldn’t imagine any other life. She was home and the pack was more than enough to keep her happy.
At the mention of Berwick Nayru nodded. Often she spent time there, or in the vineyards, or Flander’s Field. Nereid she also frequented, along with the harbor. The whole west coast of Dahlia de Mai was mapped out mentally in her head, and it was perhaps this that made her longed to live further out from everyone. Where ever she landed, she would live in Dahlia de Mai, yet a bit of space from the others didn’t seem like a bad idea. "Do you like Berwick best? I think cliffs are my favorite place in Dahlia, but hardly suitable for a den. I can’t think of anywhere more beautiful though."
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HEY SO GUESS WHO SUCKS 8D
The pale youth failed to recognize the bi-colored female's discomfort, of course; he was incapable of doing so, so wrapped up in his own mind and his own thoughts that he did not notice such signs, and even if he had, he would not have correctly interpreted them anyway. “Ah. I don't feel like I know Mother very well anymore, not since she left,” the youth said indifferently. There was no anger or derision in his voice for the act of his mother leaving; the Dahlian was more anxious with his lack of understanding of the action and his surprise at the occurrence itself. “It's okay to not know your parents well,” he said, though he sounded uncertain this time—his only proof of this was his own experience and Nayru's, and such shaky ground was hardly scientific proof of his theory.
The Dahlian territory was quite large, and Harlowe was having some degree of difficulty remembering what was where, exactly—he tilted his head to the side, bright green eyes focused in interest. “I'm not sure that it's my favorite, but it's an excellent place to live. You're right, though. These cliffs do have a view,” he said, thinking most of the territory was rather flat—the bluffs here provided a good view of the rest of it. If Harlowe had any sort of military strategy in his head, he might have noted such a vantage point; instead, he was focused merely on the way the territory was laid out, finding it easier to commit things to memory once he drew a mental map of them.
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[html] Hey guess what? This is a wrap up post XD It sucks, this is how I get you back for taking so long. AH. try again someday mebbe?
The girl listened, soaking in the details not just of the male's words but of his being. Learning who was Dahlian and what they could offer or provide was something Nayru mentally recorded. Getting to know their personality so she could cater her personal interactions to their specifics was almost an unconscious undertaking that the girl couldn't shake. Everyone was so unique, their energy so tempting to devour. Crimson eyes did not stray from Harlowe as he spoke, wondering at his words. Was it okay not to know one's mother? It didn't matter, they couldn't change the way they were now and so she simply smiled and nodded in agreement.
As Harlowe gave his own opinion of her beloved cliffs she the fairy girl let her eyes sweep over them. Nayru knew she wouldn't stay this close to Wolfville, her presence would be better used somewhere else and almost every action Nayru took was for the greater good of Dahlia de Mai, or for the few that she considered her family now. As that thought was passing her a howl rose, a call for her specifically from the house she had been avoiding. Gideon. Well, even if she was avoiding the house she was certainly not avoiding him and so she rose, dipping her head low to Harlowe.
"I'm sorry, that's for me. I must be going, it was nice to meet you Harlowe." Smiling quick at the boy once more she turned and moved towards Wolfville, her gait increasing until she had run out of sight.
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