Your little piece of heaven turns to dark
#1
316

She hadn't returned home since that day, since the fight. She hadn't seen Teo, didn't know where he was and he hadn't come to find her. If it wasn't for traces of his scent she found every so often Gemma would have believed he had abandoned her totally and left AniWaya. She pulled her knees closer to her chest and stared forwards into the Great fire. The Great fire was where she slept now. Beside its warmth she was safe and this was perhaps the only thing that stopped her brain going into a nuclear destruction again. Deep blue pools gazed into the orange and red flickering flames as though she might discern her future from within its depths.

Occasionally Light came to visit her at her safe spot, sometimes bringing her food or covering her with a blanket to ward off any chill she might feel. He offered her a place to sleep at his constantly but she declined every time. She was where she felt as though she belonged, with the fire. She tended it all hours of the day, sometimes she saw the other woman Ralla but Gemma avoided conversation with anyone who wasn't Light. Outside of those few people she knew nobody within AniWaya and really would like to keep it that way, distraction would take her attention away from the fire.

She had arrived in AniWaya wearing a green shirt and blue jeans to covered up her bare and shaved skin, her lack of fur and the brutal horrific looking scars that she was riddled with. Now her fur had grown back and the clothes has been discarded, now all that adorned her was a simple brown feather that was braided into her long white curls, it dangled down past her shoulders and she often played with it as she was doing now, combing the speckled dirt colored feather through her fingers.
#2
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Whoops, I meant to get to this sooner. :>


He was shamed, and it was apparent that his punishment had been one that the scout despised. Being forced to tend to the lesser animals irritated him, but he had cleaned after the birds and their roost until the place was spotless. Uliohi had reminded him that this was a duty of his regardless, but the fact he was now alone in doing this meant his role would encompass the whole of the tribe. The wolf had shifted to do such a thing and did so daily. Now that it was cleaned, the load had lessened considerably.

Anatole had cleaned himself in a cold stream, washing the scent of the birds from his pelt. While damp, his thick undercoat allowed for him to remain mostly warm. Still, he needed to dry before the chill of winter sunk in. With quick steps the tall man moved towards the Village, thinking he might see Claudius. The route he took caused him to pass by the Great Fire, and it was here the scout spotted a pale shape. It wasn’t hard to identify who it was—the woman, Gemma. Her thin shape and sharp lines were starkly different than any wolf in the Tribe.

He slowed, but did greet her. If she wished to speak, she would need to do so.


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#3
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Word Count → 206

No worries Big Grin


It shocked and surprised her to find out just how easily she slipped back into her old routines of behavior, desolation filled her as she realised this and the coywolf's ears rested against her head with the revelation. No matter how hard she tried, the old ways came back to her, the same old thought patterns that would shame her immensely were she to act upon them within Aniwaya's borders. The tribe would look down upon her more than it already did, she was sure of it as sure as she knew her father was the devil reincarnate.


Movement and words behind her shocked her out of her thoughts and she turned to face the intruder into her sphere of light and heat. It was the man that Matteo had been fighting with, Anatole. Her eyes widened until they resembled large sapphires and her lower jaw quivered, the whiskers trembling gently. The last time she had seen him, he and Matteo had been tearing into each other. She stared at him with undisguised terror. For several long seconds her throat worked silently as she tried to conjure up words.


H..h..hello. Her voice was quiet, deathly quiet, as though her speech would provoke him into attacking her too.


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#4
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The fine lines of her body were due to breed. She was a hybrid, more coyote than wolf despite her coat, and he found this something that settled ill with him. It was a simple association with the man who had come to stand for instability. Coyotes could not be trusted, and so despite his otherwise passive stance on this cousin-species, he found fault with them.

Green eyes narrowed as she showed obvious signs of fear. While he was imposing in stature and behavior, he had done nothing to her personally. They were part of the same Tribe, now, and he did not know what to make of this display. The scout’s arms rose and came to fold above his chest, as if he did not know what to do with them. Unused to using this form, it was apparent he disliked it. “Why are you acting like that?” He asked bluntly, accented voice even. There was no aggression in his tone or body language, but one might perceive him as such simply from the brashness of his behavior.


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#5
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Word Count → 206

No worries Big Grin


His gaze was so serious, so unmoving and hard. No compassion or understanding dwelled within his crisp green eyes. And she feared, feared greatly of the man with the statue like stance. Almost as if there were no life within him to pull forth. The fire's heat at her back was barely felt and she shivered all the more for the loss of its warmth. No laughter echoed across his face as it had done with Matteo, in all truthfulness the only way she knew how to react to him was fear and dismay.


His arms moved and she flinched instinctively and ducked her head, waiting for the strike that didn't come. He reminded her a lot of Gabriel, he had been a solemn silent man too at least during his quiet times, the other times he was as loud and violent as any of the other men who had kept her prisoner during her lonely miserable life. The pale woman stared unhappily at his feet as he spoke, ashamed and embarrassed of her reactions, again her voice was so very quiet,


P..please. D..don't hurt m..me."


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#6
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To live as he did was to live without foolish ideas of romanticism. There was no room for mercy within him. The strong would survive and the weak would be crushed. That was the way of the wolf, and of the wild, and of the North. Anatole found these southerners unfamiliar and soft things, especially when they hailed from lands that were unfamiliar to him. He was, therefore, terribly perplexed by this woman and her behavior. She flinched at his voice and he fanned his ears back, showing her he meant no harm.

The scout tilted his head slightly as he watched her, looking for any proof beyond the strange behavior that she was in fact wounded. Perhaps that might explain her predicament. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said flatly. “You are part of this Tribe, even if you chose to live with a madman. I do not blame you for him.” Had he not taken up arms with men of darker purposes, though? The rogue band he had run with had not been one of gentle creatures, and he had seen this proven time and time again.

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#7
ooc: Hey Mel sorry for taking so long, if you want we can end this here with Anatole giving up and leaving if you want, or we can carry on x3 whichever you want.
215

She was a pathetic sight to watch, cowering before Anatole even as he told her she would come to no harm from him. Gemma couldn't rid herself of the images that flashed before her eyes... so much blood. The coy female couldn't even bring herself to raise her head and look in his general direction, eyes dropping to stare at the ground in front of her feet as her arms hugged her chest. she shook from both fear and shame.

Where was her strength. How did AniWaya bear to put up with her, silly useless her. It wasn't like she was good at anything, she thought to herself, again ignoring her seemingly instinctual skill with her fire tending. Gemma had seen horrors in her life enough to rival any warrior in battle, she had neither the training nor the mental strength and stability to deal with what she had seen and experienced, what she had felt.

Her pale ears were flattened against her head as she refused to look at the Aniwayan male, but found enough energy to give her voice sound, maybe she could make an attempt at explaining herself,

"I'm s..s..sorry. I..I. Uh.. I.." She was unable to find the words though and with a sigh gave up her attempts at communicating with him.
#8
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On some level, she was right to fear him. He was capable of great violence, and much larger than most wolves he had encountered save some true-blooded northern boys that claimed dog heritage. What she saw in him he did not understand, but it only affirmed his suspicions of her abuse or something along those lines. For a long time the darkened wolf stared at her, this odd little coyote thing she was, and eagerly lifted his ears for her voice. When it came, it was soft and frightened. He was disappointed but not surprised.

Green eyes regarded her with something akin to pity, though he did not feel empathy for her. He could not, as was his nature. Silently, he left her. One day she would find some courage within her, but he had no time and no patience for the whims and fear of a girl. Other duties called him.

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