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Word Count » 338 :: Miqui does start here, but he leaves. Feel free to reference him passing in your post. All welcome, Borgata Zopilote (Family ranked and up, so no slaves), sundown. Feel free to request she gives your character their pack scarification; you get +25 game points for a thread that details receiving it!
Miqui let out a furious snarl as he went to the ground.
His sister, the petite and golden thing, let out a laugh as she stepped on his chest. "Oh, Miqui. Haftn't you learned? You cahn't win." Fiery eyes glistened with excitement. She hadn't lost a sparring match with Miqui since they had left Eterne; sometimes she wondered if he merely downplayed his abilities, but knew deep down that this was not so. Neither of her brothers had the same aptitude to combat, though Miqui came fairly close. She took her foot away from him, allowing him to scramble back to his feet. His glare left her unfazed. "I will soon. You can' always be lucky, Tlantli." His eyes narrowed, burning into hers with all of his oh-so-common anger. All smiles faded from her features; as her hand came into contact with his cheek and muzzle, he seemed shocked. Whether or not it was an honest slap of reprimand went unknown, for as soon as it was over, she was smiling yet again. "It ess adorabel that you t'ink you cahn, brother."
He let out a snort of irritation and turned away, crossing strong arms over an equally strong chest. Tlantli reached out, undoing his tied hair only to gather it back up and tie it again. Her gaze graced the spot at the base of his neck, the small wound that shaped itself like the Hand of Eris. "If you t'ink you cahn be better, Miqui, you cahn be." Strange words of reassurance from his sister caused him to shrug off her hands, legs carrying him back toward the ruins. The young Crone released a sigh, shaking her head as she turned back toward the cove of Borgata Zopilote. She was tired of his attitude, but she knew she would never turn him away; even in Salsola, Miqui was her only true and strong family.
Her body dropped to the ground, knees providing a perch for her arms as she witnessed the pink sky of sunset fade upon the world.
You will have to explain a bit of the sacrification process to me ...<33 505
He felt lost beyond repair upon arriving.
It wasn’t the fact that Citlali and his aunt and uncle had moved miles from their temporary home, he was used to moving before he had a chance settle in. It was mostly the fact that every face, every inch of this fresh home was new. He had no place to work, no place rest. The boy had, in a sense, no feeling of direction.
Citlali stayed tenderly close to Tlantli’s side when she was there, but not even he would deprive his half-aunt of social activity. Now that she had Miqui, the sand-toned woman was off with him most of the day. Back in Anathema, the thought wouldn’t have disturbed the boy as much as it did now when he hadn’t a friend in the pack.
He awoke with the same crunching feeling the next afternoon. Dull green eyes were still upon opening until a bird landed quietly beside his resting place. Citlali had spent his first few nights inside the ruins under a one story building, having almost all four of its walls still intact. The spot was popular because of its shelter and location so near the entrance, so the tan coyote gave it up without a fight. A few days later he took shelter at the top of an aging tower clothed in thistles and adjacent to a winding tree. Its location was far from the most populated area of Salsola. Part of a wall had fallen long ago and created a half window, the same window the boy had spotted the bird.
It had ruffled its brunette feathers before spreading her wings and catching the strong wind. Citlali smiled, the corner of his mouth lifting tiredly. The scent of rain was brought in by the breeze along with the thick honey-like aroma of clovers. He stood, stretching his limbs on the cold stone floor. With arms extended, the Kimaris boy could have easily touched both sides of the tower with another wide step sideways. It was small inside, lined in gray rocks, and completely empty. However, a larger circular room below could be reached by the stone stairs.
The boy descended them and left out the broken door, stepping over the shards of wood he had removed from it earlier. Following the scent of his aunt and uncle, Citlali discovered it leading him outside the ruins. They were close, although it took him most of the afternoon to find them. He rubbed the white bangle on his wrist, once again reminded of his lack of moon rituals. Perhaps it was the reason for the clouded night he had been receiving. As the sun began to spill its evening light on the territory, her half nephew spotted Tlantli. Her head shook while she gazed in the direction Miqui’s figure had sprinted to seconds ago. Another strained smile blessed his white dusted smile. The Kimaris boy drifted to his aunt’s side, lingering just behind her presence and following her blood red irises to the sunset.
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Sorry for the wait!
At first, she didn't notice the presence of her nephew, her mind lost to the world about her. He was always close, she'd come to realize; if she ever needed her nephew, for she loved her nephew dearly, he would be nearby for her to call on. Of course, since their move, they had not been spending the time together they once had. It was strange, really. Not having Citlali close at any given time left a large hole in the space around her. Even with Miqui, her strong and handsome brother, there was a gaping place in her activities. But he was there now.
"Usted puede venir y sentarse conmigo." Her voice was soft, audible only to him and the birds that flew above the waters. The time wasn't for others; it was time for the young aunt and her equally young nephew to speak and talk and spend their time together. She smiled, glancing over one scarred shoulder as she waited for him to heed her request, one androgynous hand patting the ground at her side. There were so many things for the two of them to discuss, about their new home and about the changes that had happened in their life. Now it wasn't simply her and Citlali, no. Now it was her and Citlali and Miqui, and both were equally important to her regardless of how they felt about each other. She simply wanted both to know that.
The evening light created a luminous glow around his striking Aunt, her tan fur collecting beads of radiance and shimmering defiantly. Her slim shadow was deepening in darkness with the setting of the sun. He remained inside her shade until she spoke, soft Hispanic words rising barely above the sound of the birds. It took a respectful moment for him to decipher the language he wasn’t used to speaking. A hand of Tlantli patted the soft, grassed ground in a confirmation of her words. Gold bangles chimed as they swayed against each other.
Citlali pulled himself close to his Aunt immediately, seeking her familiar yet distant warmth. She was the only one he knew well in the Family, and the continuous feeling of being out of place had become an unwanted friend. The grass felt unusual compared to the cold stone he was used to in the tower. Sable claws sunk into the earth the lower the sun began to fall. His front was now bathed in the same golden light that had surrounded the other Kimaris moments ago. No sound came from either of them, and the boy supposed the woman would express her thoughts before him.
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