ooc Eee!! wc 765

Today Orin was preoccupied with a very important task. It was an honor, really. A duty bestowed upon her by the Second in Command of Cercatori d'Arte. A couple weeks ago when she was first growing accustomed to the lay of the land and exploring the town of Thornbury, she had come across Skye Collins in the garden near her house. The two had struck up a pleasant conversation and learned a lot about each other quickly. Orin liked Skye, she was talented, intelligent, and caring. But perhaps what she liked most about her was the fact that the Secondo recognized Orin's own particular talents and offered her an opportunity to achieve a befitting rank: pack historian. Orin had already been fervently jotting down every note she could on Cercatori, logging every snippet of information in her journal, but now her hobby had become a commodity. Something useful that she could do for her pack. Just think about it, all of the future generations will know what happened now because of me. Of course, she was not so vain as to not give others their due, but the thought certainly made her proud.

She had found an empty journal on one of the stationery shelves in her bookstore and this was to be the new record of the history of Cercatori d'Arte. All she had to do was get a good little chunk compiled and organized and show Skye her progress, and the co-rank would be officially hers. “First Historian of Cercatori d'Arte...” She whispered to herself dreamily, testing the title and enjoying the way it sounded.

Her first order of business was to take some detailed notes so she could begin to record the events in the book. Luckily, since the pack was so new, she was not very far behind, but she did want to honor the founding by recording a detailed, concise account. So rather than jotting down just what she knew, she had a plan to get the information from the members who had lived it. Imagine being a young pup a hundred years from now and being able to read the history of your pack written in the words of the people who lived it. Her pace picked up, fueled by pride.

And who better to start with than the Capitano himself? Orin wasn't sure if Shawchert would be home, but his house was not too far from Thornbury and she could use the time to stretch her legs. If he was not home, she could wait. So the Takekuro woman grabbed her purple shawl and her satchel and packed up all the supplies she would need and then some: pencils, pens, loose papers, the blank journal, her journal, a book snatched at random, a crumbling old piece of bread and an apple. With her pack full, she wrapped the shawl over her shoulders (though it was for aesthetic purposes only, being too thin to provide any real heat), slung her pack on her arm, and exited out into the snow.

The walk to Shawchert's hut had been pleasant and without event. The blanket of snow seemed to smooth out the landscape a little so there were less rocks and holes to trip over, so Orin allowed her mind to wander as she traveled through the woods. She was almost surprised when she spotted the break in the trees that let out to the clearing in which Shaw's hut was constructed. She smiled to herself and shifted her pack to the other shoulder as she slipped out of the treeline and into the clearing. Her smile broadened when she looked up ahead and saw Shawchert sitting on the stoop.

She let out a small, wolfish noise that was a mixture between a yip and a brisk howl, and waved at him. “Shawchert!” She was so happy she caught him at home! What were the chances? She closed the rest of the distance at a slight jog, her words starting up as soon as she could speak without having to yell. “I'm so glad I caught you at home. I would have waited if you weren't... I hope you don't mind. I've got some questions for you. Did Skye talk to you yet? I'm starting a journal... yes, I'm starting a new journal... It's for Cercatori! I was hoping I could interview yo-... Oh!”

Her words died in her throat when she caught the look on her Alpha's face. She stood there a moment, bewildered, unsure what to do before meekly starting again, “Is... is something wrong?”

WC 457

Shawchert's empty smile did little to reassure her, and the fact that he had not heard a thing she said was very strange of the normally attentive alpha. She cocked her head, considering this for a moment, then took another step near. Her eyes flicked to the shapeless piece of wood in his hands. It was clear that whatever he was doing was just to preoccupy himself and that this would be no masterpiece when he was done. He was just taking out his anxiety on the poor piece of whittling wood.

Everything about Shawchert was wrong and it was unsettling to the writer. Her leader was always in good spirits, always kind and happy and fun-loving. Something had gone horribly wrong in his world today and there was no hiding it. Whatever happened to him, it had wriggled down to his core and upset his soul. Orin thought that even if Shawchert had hidden his downtrodden face she still would have sensed his sadness.

“Nevermind the journal,” she said as she finally became animated again. Her brows pursed together with worry, and she slipped her slender body up next to the hulking form of her alpha, taking a seat on the stoop next to him. She sat close to him, offering her warmth – both physically and mentally. When a pack wolf was upset their greatest chance for comfort always came from within the pack, even for the alpha. This was an instinct that was engrained deep within almost every wolf. Orin was often blind to her instincts, but not when it came to empathizing with a pack mate. “We can talk about that later.”

She let her satchel slide off of her shoulder and set it down next to her, then turned to look into Shawchert's visage. What she saw there was awful. Though he tried to smile and cast his worries aside in her presence there was no denying the deep pain etched in his eyes. As a writer, Orin knew about characters, and saw the truth buried deep within Shawchert's blue eyes. The man had been hurt.... wounded by some dagger that left no blood, but certainly made it's mark. Orin could not discern exactly what had happened. Perhaps someone had died?

Suddenly she felt a pang of terror rip through her own heart. Had someone in Cercatori been killed? That certainly would have been cause for the alpha to be acting like this. She fumbled with her hands for a minute until her natural personality came back to the forefront and she began talking again.

“What happened? Shawchert, you can tell me. Is everyone...” she swallowed hard at the thought, but pressed on. “Is everyone in Cercatori okay?”

wc 575

If only Orin knew exactly what her friend was thinking she would have been able to tell him that he was wrong. That fretting over a woman, over a broken heart, was not frivolous. In fact, it was a dire thing, a serious thing, and that he should be able to be open with his grief, not feel guilty over it. But he gave her little to go on, and she could not read his thoughts as much as she wished she could.

She finally got a tidbit of information from the man though it was hardly anything to go on. Orin almost felt guilty when she visibly relaxed at the thought that this was not because of a pack member getting hurt. So then, it was something more. Perhaps something even more complicated than all that. He said something. It was vague and cryptic, and any less dreamy of a wolf probably would not have picked up on it or would have pressed for further meaning. But Orin figured it out. She had read about this many times. It was pretty much the centermost plot in just about every book: love.

It was evident by the slump in the man's shoulders, the emptiness of his eyes, and the way he turned away from her, casting his gaze off as he delved into poisonous thought. His heart had been broken. That is why he said it was hard for him. Orin sat silent for a minute and in that beat Shawchert's blue gaze returned to her. She regarded her friend with sympathy and concern, but it was not the ugly sympathy that many pass – there was love in her sympathy, not pity. Orin herself had never known a broken heart. Not like this, anyway, but she had known pain that surpassed what was physical. The best she could do for her Alpha now was be there for him.

Without looking away, her fingers fell to her satchel and she quickly undid the buckle. Her hand felt around in the pack for a moment before proffering the apple she had stored. She held it up to him. It was a wonder where she even got it. It was bright red and without a single bruise or soft spot. She smiled softly, knowing it would do little to cheer him up, but she thought she should try anyway.

“Here, I brought you this,” she said gently. “I saved it. It is from the tree.” She put emphasis on the word 'tree' as though it was a name in itself. Shawchert would understand. “I thought maybe we could plant its seeds in the spring.”

Her smile was resilient and held out despite the urge to drop it. Sometimes knowing that you had a faithful friend was just enough to get you through a time like this.

She met his gaze and leaned in to him, nudging his muzzle with her own. This time it was not a kiss but a gesture wolfish affection. She let the silence hang for a moment, and then gently reassured him, “Someone broke your heart. You can talk about it, if you want. I won't tell anyone. I won't write it in my journal or anything.”

The other hand that did not hold the present reached out and fell lightly on Shawchert's. Even in Optime form Shawchert's hands looked like massive paws in comparison to her petite fingers.

ooc Jeeze, time gets away from me. Sorry, had no muse for a couple days. wc 520

She frowned, truly concerned, as he explained his story to her. It truly was sad, to lose love, even if it was not meant to be. There was no way to soften a blow like this and Orin knew better than to give any unhelpful remarks like 'you'll find someone else'. These kinds of statements always felt so insensitive to her. Of course they would find someone else eventually, but that did not make up for the loss they felt right now. In fact, all the statement did was, in some small way, deny the person the right to their feelings in the moment. No, Orin would not say anything like this. And so for a moment she had nothing to say at all, so it is what she did that she made important. She stayed, she listened, she looked genuinely worried for him. Part of her thought she could even feel the loss emanating from his soul, and she suddenly wanted to do anything she could to make it better.

She did not realize it was happening but suddenly her heart began to hurt, too. She cast her eyes down for a moment as she shared in her alpha's pain. Perhaps if she could bare just a little of it at a time for him it could help. Her fingers played in his.

“I can't say that I know how you feel,” she started cautiously. “But I think I understand. Your heart is in pieces and it feels like it will never mend.” She laid her head on his shoulder for a minute and her eyes flicked to the apple. That was when his deep voice rumbled the invitation.

She lifted her head again and matched his gaze, smiling softly. “I would love to.” She said as she stood and followed him across the threshold of his hut. It was funny how little she felt as she moved next to him. She always felt little, because she was, but for some reason something felt different today. Like, even in his pain, Shawchert's presence comforted her. He was the leader and the protector of the pack, but their bond suddenly felt ten times as powerful as she moved through the doorway and into his hut.

She took in the interior of his home silently. She had never been here before but for some reason the house felt pleasantly comfortable. She made a small circle as she peered around, and finally her turn landed her gaze on Shawchert again. A sliver of light and shadow played in eternal contrast across his face. The Takekuro woman felt a pang in her heart, and she mistook it again for sharing in his grief. Yet something else was happening, too, Orin just did not know it. An urge overcame her then and she moved over to Shawchert. She was famous for her hugs, but this one was comparatively different. Without warning or invitation Orin wrapped her arms around Shawchert. Though she was small she poured every bit of love and comfort into the air in hopes to soothe her hurting friend.

ooc hehe Count on Orin to climb onto someone at a time like this. wc 507

She basked in the feeling of helping her friend as Shawchert accepted her embrace, though in an instant the whole thing mutated. His arms wrapped around her in return and she was filled with the alpha's strong, woodsy scent. But, was there something more to it right now? Yes, there was, even nose-blind Orin could detect it in her subconcious. And her body translated the emotive scent as love. Somewhere deep down she knew that her body, too, was doing the same, and she poured her soul into it, letting her love glow.

Shawchert was so warm, so comforting up against her, this moment was perfect... and then the alpha bent down and kissed her. Her body was so receptive to the affection that she did not even flinch out of surprise, rather she accepted the kiss graciously and quickly matched his vigor. She did not want this to stop, and knew that it did not have to by the way Shawchert's arms held her. Her hands trailed along his back for a moment, gently massaging the muscles and holding him tight, pulling him closer. She wanted him closer. Her hand trailed to the back of his neck and her fingers played with the ruff of his mane.

She was so small in his arms. She tiptoed as best she could, trying to make herself taller so he would not have to bend down so much to kiss her, though it certainly did not seem to be a problem for the Captain. She grasped at his shoulders and it seemed that in a moment she might simply climb up onto him right there, as the tiny Luperci was know to do. Though she had never been known to climb onto someone quite like this before.

They broke for just a moment to take a breath, though she refused the air and came back to kiss him. The love and warmth, his love and warmth, that had started in her heart had now spread through her body and left a pleasant, unsettled feeling in her stomach. Her heart raced and any semblance of the subdued Orin that she had been was now gone, though her passion now was quite different than her usual exuberance any other day.

The kiss finally broke again, and this time she took advantage of the short respite. She breathed deeply and glanced over her shoulder. She wanted to move to a bed, or the hearth, or hell, the kitchen table would be good enough! Her eyes turned back to Shawchert and she did not even have to speak of her want. She had the same need as he felt, reflected in their eyes.

She nudged herself into Shawchert again, this time tucking her head under his chin in a loving nuzzle and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Her feet left the ground and her slight weight was now his burden. Her fingers continued to play with his mane and scratch gently at the right spots. He would know where to take her.

ooc If you want to fade to black here I am good with that. *snickers* I am squirmy and am no good at these kinds of things past this! wc 445

Her body began to tremble softly in Shawchert's arms as he carried her to the bed and set her down with a gentleness that belied both his bulk and his eagerness. Despite what one might suppose, her quivering was not from nervousness. If it was going to happen then this would be her first time, but there was no man better chosen for this moment than Shawchert. He was a protector, he was her friend and now in her mind he was more. But most of all, he had been her hero. He had saved her life, she was the damsel in distress. Never mind the fact that Shawchert was the one in need in this moment, he was still the hero.

Although she reclined on the bed now she found it impossible to relax. Every muscle was tense with a yearning she had never known before. The feeling in her stomach... it was something she did not know if she could even describe. It was like a tickle that trickled through her whole body, compelling her to move in the smooth, erotic way that she did now, but it was not a disturbing tickle. It was the most thrilling thing she had ever felt, and it grew with each and every touch of Shawchert's careful fingers, with every movement of his body.

Impulsively, she arched her back and moaned gently as his hands caressed her, fingers firmly massaging her breast. For a moment her hands fell away from his body and she ran a hand over her own stomach before reaching out to him again. She kissed her lover with an invigorating passion. Her hands now twined in his fur again as they played over his broad shoulders and down his back. She grasped his body instinctively and pulled him against herself as her hands played over the muscles of his back, down to his waist, and slipped to his stomach. She could not help herself, and the urge to explore further drove her as one hand slipped down even farther. She had already felt him there pressing up against her with his desire, and the sensation was dazzling. Now she slipped her slim fingers around him and discovered that every part of her alpha was truly as colossal as the rest of him.

Her eyelids fluttered wide and she caught his gaze, feeding off of his passion and begging silently for him to sate her new appetite...

“Shawchert,” she whispered softly, her free arm wrapping around his shoulders and pulling herself close to him again. Her words were probably unnecessary, but she could not bite them back. “I need you now.”