left all my kinder parts rusting and peeling
#1
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Date: 25 Aug

Time: Afternoon

Words: 326

Location: Borgata Xicohtli

for citlali! ♥

The easternmost parts of Salsola were the least familiar to Eris, though she knew their small, secluded territory quite well already. The ruins were perhaps her favorite part, and the beaches surrounding them. She could not discount the beauty of these riverlands, however -- there were marshy lowlands and rolling bumps in the land, and twisted, low-lying bushes. The thistle was growing in abundance here, and she inhaled deeply, peering about as another scent entered the area. She did not recognize it; it smelled faintly sweet. The hybrid followed after this scent slowly, meandering and moving in a rather indirect, lazy manner.

The children had been left behind in the care of Molca for the afternoon, as they usually were. Shibboleth had shown no improvements, but neither had she worsened, either. Eris found herself now wishing the child withered and died in the night. It seemed a fate kinder than the one the pale girl now suffered through. These thoughts the hybrid shoved forcibly from her mind; Eris went so far as to grit her teeth to keep them from returning, concentrating on coming after that faintly sweet scent.

She lost the trail more than once, and she wandered in lazy ovals for a few moments, trying to find the scent again. It would be easier if she shifted and stuck her damn nose to the ground, but she simply didn't feel like it. She wanted her Optime form, and ease be damned, she would remain two-legged. It would drain too much energy, in any case, to shift and then shift back again -- assuming she found some reason to require her hands. In these distant parts of the pack, it wasn't very likely, but one never did know. She had, after all, made something of a capture out here not too long ago -- the dottering old lady hadn't been much of a conquest, but she was now amongst Salsola's slaves nonetheless.

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#2
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Word Count » 600

Wow. I thought I posted this like … the month ago I wrote it. Sorry! >.<

Thanks for starting.<3
Assuming this thread goes as planned, Citlali would now own two black and white piglets, Zyana and Temoa. Read more about them in his profile?
Citlali Kimaris

He loved his job. The clearing was quiet, personalized, and had wonderful aura of virginity. Every morning he got up and made his way to the secret garden. The trail was now worn and masked with his scent, but with its winding corners it still remained only a path to nothingness. To the untrained eye, the garden may look like another dense gathering in the forest, surrounded by thick grass and weeds. But any intrigued wolf would recognize the wonderful scent emanating from within. It was strong enough to force them closer. Then they would perhaps try to get in, and if they were successful enough to tear past the natural walls, they would come across another barrier. The fence - a thick, skillfully woven rope wound around the garden. It would give off mixed feelings. The welcoming beads, dried flowers, and colorful feathers attached to the bindings seemed contradictory to the standoffish hard line between the dark forest and a bright, sickly mouth watering farmland.

He had never gotten much sleep, even when he was young. The darkness did nothing to still his busy mind, and even when drowsiness did cause a moment of unconsciousness, the sandy-toned boy always awoke. His hands would ache from weaving, and ache from lack of weaving. Usually, he would get up willingly and get back to work, ignoring the hour-fresh slices in his palms from his crafting knife and work until dawn before dozing until afternoon. However, since he began gardening, sleep became easier. Nights didn’t sink black fangs in his mind. Citlali was unconscious longer, but not by much. That night sleep had come for a few hours but left quickly. Dull green eyes stared at the scar on his paw, wrapping wickedly around his thumb and backhand. It had hurt, not terribly, but enough to have it bandaged at the first Supper. The darkness made his hand look cloudy and foreign so he stopped straining his vision for a moment.

At the first sign of light, the coyote leapt from his sheet on the cold stone floor. His head spun from the rapid motion as he trailed downstairs. Two dark forms were curled in the shade under the broken and damaged window, masked slightly by wild ivy and cobwebs. The boy grabbed his pack, listening to the beads on the feathers clink faintly against each other. Ginger furred hands picked up the small piglets, already bigger than when he had traded them. Soft thumb trailed over their perked ears as they squealed. When they had left, they were gone.

The boy didn’t stop until he got there. Gently he dumped the piglets in the soft, river-like bank on the “mushroom island”. Immediately he weeded what little weeds dared show themselves after his last tending yesterday. When he finished, Citlali trailed water to each plant, generously provided by the rut he dug from the river to his garden. Afterwards, he settled in the shade, resting his back on the fence and rummaged in his bag for a crafting piece. He pulled out a reed bracelet, rigid but elegant with a double star weave and lighter strands of white-dyed grass. Not even a knot had been finished when large coyote ears perked at a noise. There was an ungraceful rustling outside. The thought of a visitor excited the boy. Citlali stood and Zyana followed him to the edge where he poked his muzzle out from between the weed wall. The scent surprised him and made the Kimaris joyful. However, his voice was still silent as he watched his marvelous leader circle crossly.

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#3
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(303)
Guess who sucks? SIE SUCKS. :C

The coyote woman's meandering trail had looped near to the borders and back again, exploring the lush banks of the Pictou with surprise. She had passed through this area, but she had not taken much time to actually inspect it. It was lovely, truly -- the earth was mostly flat, lacking in large hills, but it rolled and dipped here and there, the worn, old wounds of glaciers moving across the earth. Better than the terrain itself, the plant growth here was thick, providing ample cover. She could not see to the far bank of the river; the thicket of plants obscured her view. Even in late summer, they would be wild with green and thickly overgrown. Vines and bushes tangled into small, stunted deciduous trees; few wooded plants growing in Salsola were robust. There would be small and scurrying prey all throughout these lands -- they would not overlook this resource. She would be sure of that.

A new scent became apparent to her, masked beneath the overpowering sweetness of the area. She twitched her nose, and lifted her eyes to see a muzzle and part of a face poking from the thicket. Her eyes narrowed, and she stepped forward before recognizing Citlali. The Auxiliary snorted her amusement and stepped toward him a few paces, quite used to his extremely reserved nature. It did not surprise her that he wouldn't call out -- Tlantli had warned him about his quiet when they'd first met, even. What is all this, my dear Confidant? she inquired. Her ears perked with curiosity, and she learned forward, peering through the thicket and toward Citlali. She had not even smelled him -- still could hardly smell him, in fact. This pleased her -- whatever grew here, they might use for obscuring their scent. Citlali was working here, no doubt.

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