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The white Tilia lowered her mouth, listening as her howl ran freely on the wind in every direction. She was standing right outside one of the vineyards, hoping that Cwmfen would hear her. Her call had had nothing to do with formal affairs or anything like that, it was more of a question directed at the dark young femme, wondering whether she might want to socialize. It was a strange thing to do if one was Mew Sadira. Mostly, every joiner would - in time - eventually take contact with Mew. She was not the social kind, preferring to stay alone with her anger and her guitar, snarling at herself in mirrors, but this young one tickled her curiosity. She seemed awfully obedient to the rank system, and somewhat shy, but perhaps she was not. Mew did not know, all she knew was that she had not made contact with the three-year-old, like everyone else, and thus the ball was in her hands. Even though she might not wish to spend time with her pack members, she always wished to know who they were. And perhaps this one was someone she could care for, unlike most pack members that had come through. Although, right now it was only Firefly that spurred her lust for ripping things apart, but more often than not she found herself getting irritated by the actions of her pack members. Luckily there weren't many irritations at the moment, and the news of Deuce's pregnancy made her tense relationship to Firefly slightly more amusing than anything else. It was cruel, but so was life, and Firefly deserved it for her slutty behavior.
Waiting, Mew watched the damp air form clouds in front of her muzzle, standing in her two-legged form propped against the wall of the frozen wood building. She hoped the young female would come, and she hoped she had not thought this was a formal call. Mew was simply rubbish at these things, sometimes she just failed at people skills 101. Time would show though, and if she did not come, Mew could always just go inside to the fireplace again and enjoy her guitar and that old piano. She had restored it somewhat since her and Slay had used the building as shelter from the storm a few moons back, and its sound was beautiful now. Perhaps she should show how well she had fixed it to Slay. Or perhaps she should show it to Cwmfen, should she come. Mew hoped she would.
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Is it okay if this is set sometime before the 12th? It could even be the 11th, ^=^;;
500+
Cwmfen had departed from her hunt-study with Slay. She was glad that she had sought out the dual coloured male, for the experience had been a rich one. She had learned that such hunting was very similar to solo hunting; the coordination between the hunting wolves was the key issue. It was a new thing to the Caledonian-Korean she-wolf, this group-hunting, but it was an exciting prospect. While she was alone now, the female no longer felt a need to remain in her solitude. There was a new desire within her now to pursue this business of hunting, to take up that co-rank and to hunt with those of Dahlia de Mai. Perhaps, also, it was time to find someone with which to share her solitude....
The black fae walked nonchalantly, wandering as always amongst those familiar things. She chewed absently upon a vole she had caught moments before, savoring the sweet juices that came in a thick flow after every crunch of breaking bones. Tasty little animal. It was true, she had only just hunted with the top-ranking of the trade, but sometimes she felt the need to eat, and these were one of those times. Perhaps it was attributed to her thoughtful mood, which often triggered such a craving. It was when she was chewing the creature that the call sounded. She paused in her traveling, lifting her head higher as if to better catch the sound. The woad-banded ears pricked forward, listening to the voice. It was not one that she had heard upon the wind before, but the voice was not unfamiliar. And, to her surprise, it was meant for her. This aspect made her pause for a few moments longer, even when the song had died. Why was she being summoned? Hopefully, she had not done something wrong, especially when she had had no ill intent in anything thus far. Yet, the call seemed unthreatening, and so after considering her location, which did not seem to be far from the caller, she decided to go and find the summoner. The woad-marked female lifted her maw, calling a low call in response.
She would be there soon.
The air was cold, but it had not yet penetrated through her winter coat. She trotted quickly, but did not take it at a full lope. She knew that she was warm now, but if she lost body heat too fast, it would be dangerous—and more so if she sweated. It was safer and more efficient in the long run if she took it at this middle-way. There was a light dusting of snow upon the ground, and her paws marked the she-wolf’s passage clearly. Yet, she no longer worried quite so often over the matter of the crow-wolf, for she felt that there was safety within these boarders. Her breathing was light and her movements effortless, but it was cold enough to draw a cloud with each exhalation that was made. She always thought that such a phenomenon as amazing and beautiful, and she was enjoying herself. She hoped that the female (was it Mew? She tried to remember from the meeting.) would not be waiting for long.
It was not long when she herself was able to pick up the caller’s scent. Apparently, for the cold of the weather, the scent had not travelled far, for almost immediately Cwmfen saw the other ahead through the trees. Pausing, she shifted, for the other was in her luperci form, and she thought it appropriate to shift as well. It took ten minutes—the change was easier now—and then she approached the white female. Suddenly, she remembered that this white woman had been the musician. Smiling shyly, the Caledonian-Korean approached the human-made shelter. Dipping her maw in respect for the ranking female, the alto melody quietly inquired, "You called?"
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I completely forgot about this thread! >_< didn't put it into my post log and then it went poof out of my head, I'm SO sorry  ( and now I'm rambling, sorry for that too 
Word count: 561
Some time passed, and Mew spent them looking at the swirling air that exited her mouth. Only seconds after her call she could hear a response cruising over the treetops, telling her that Cwmfen was indeed on her way. So much information one could put into a howl. So much information one could put into a song. It seemed, to Mew, that people often underestimated music to simple entertainment or something to go in the background of an event. It was a shame, because there were such a lot of things one could say with music that could not be said otherwise. Simple things, and something as lush and detailed as how one's emotions suddenly rise to the boiling point when a powerful surge of music takes you over and your mind is forced away from whatever it was doing. After spending hours in the library, reading lots of books to try and understand the workings of several objects she found there, she had managed to play recorded human music from a large black disc. Not until then had she understood what the music books meant by "orchestra" or "brass" but it was very overwhelming, really, compared to that small and solitary sound that came from her when she played her guitar. Some of the music on the disc was incredibly massive, with lots of instruments and people working together. All that complexity could be found in a simpler song as well, and in just a howl or a sentence, if one'd just look for it. Or so Mew believed anyways. She liked the sound of Cwmfen's howl - not that many bothered to put a lot of effort into them.
Mind trailing off into vast music-philosophic landscapes, it was interrupted by the arrival of the now-not-so-new-anymore female. Her fur was even more strange when looking at her closely, and Mew could not decide whether that blue in all the black was dyed or natural. If she was just like that from birth then Mew probably wouldn't believe it anyways, so she'd refrain from asking the question. The young girl was polite and respectful and formal and all of that, but Mew didn't worry. Cwmfen would soon find out that Mew did not care much for formalities. But to match the dark girl's behavior, Mew also lowered her muzzle in a greeting, and when it was lifted again it was decorated with a smile. Yes. We haven't properly met, really, and I figured it was about time. Turning around to face the building wall Mew reached out with a white-pelted hand and opened the door to the old building, revealing a warmer and more comfortable atmosphere inside. Taking a few steps in, Mew turned her head again and attempted to meet the gaze of the other. The white orbs were different from anything she's seen before, but then again so was the rest of her. Of all the things that came wandering into their pack, such a strange little girl. Some details, however, revealed where her green irises should be focusing, and if they didn't really hit spot on she was sure the darker femme would forgive her. The smile that was on her face was welcoming and warm, and there was nothing fake about it. Come inside. There was no reason to stand out in the cold, now was there?
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Heheh, no worries, ^=^ I’ve been known to do that too >___>
500+
Shyly and a bit uncertainly, she stood before the higher ranking female. The white female, despite her positioning near the house, seemed to be lost occasionally in the snow. The white orbs peered past the falling flakes, wondering why she had been summoned. She hoped that she had not done anything wrong—she had been careful and calculating in all that she did. But such failures were simply another way of learning. If she had done something wrong without knowing it, this would be a good time to learn. Pride was something that would just have to be set aside. Afterall, while she was with Dahlia de Mai to join this family, she was also there to learn more of the unknown aspects of life—or at least things that were unknown to her. She was always eager to learn, and so she was familiar with the setting aside of her pride, however unpleasant that task may be.
But it did not seem that there would be any sort of chastisement today, for the white female smiled at her. As she was inwardly breathing a sigh of relief (for at least she was doing things correctly), she could not help but notice the resemblance between this green-eyed female at the Rosea of the pack. She wondered if there were any sort of family relation between the two, and her tail flickered thoughtfully behind her. The other female spoke, and Cwmfen smiled gratefully. She was delighted that someone had sought her out simply to meet with her. Usually no one wanted to talk to her at all, but she supposed that this was the difference between pack life and the solitary life. It was a pleasant change. The woad-marked tail wagged once, only marginally illustrating her thanks. “I’m glad you think so,” the female said quietly, almost inaudibly. That was all that she could think of to say. It was apparent now, if it had not been before, that she was not a social butterfly. Ashamed of this fact, the woad-banded ears flattened shyly on her head. But this was simply another opportunity to learn.
Then the white female turned, opening the door to the human edifice. Even with her distance, she could smell the warmer air inside. The younger female was not necessarily cold, but the atmosphere of the interior welcomed her with a warm hand. She was hesitating were she stood, uncertain as to whether or not she should follow, when the green-eyed female turned about. That green gaze did not seem to be looking at her however, and she wondered at it. It did not seem as if Mew were blind, for the use of her eyes were apparent, but perhaps there was something wrong with her eyes. She wanted to ask, for she was of a curious personality, but she did not want to be rude, and she was already too shy to even bring it up. Instead, she was silent and let her curiosity be. It was amazing how some could overcome such difficulties. She wondered if she would have been able to overcome such difficulties.
Mew invited her in. Slowly but excitedly, Cwmfen made her way to the threshold of the doorway and followed her in. The black female did not normally accommodate herself within these human constructions, but, since the other female had chosen it, she would not let herself be bothered by it. And it would only be for a short while. (The black female would grow uncomfortable in small spaces if she frequented them too often.) As she passed through the threshold, she said, “Thank you,” quietly. Taking a quick sweep around, the white orbs fell finally upon a larger contraption. Her ears pricked forward with curiosity and she wandered over to the piano and touched it lightly with her fingertips. Turning back to the white female, she asked, “What is this?” The thing was amazing to her and her curious nature forced her to ask.
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Word count: 431
The girl continued her modest behavior as she stepped through the door speaking a quiet thanks, but at least showing that she was not directly uncomfortable in the situation. Mew was glad, especially seeing as she was feeling rather nervous herself. She did not socialize much with strangers, but this one had spurred her interest enough to go against her normal ways. And it wasn't exactly nervousness either, it was more of a feeling of how this was not natural to her. She did not seek people, people sought her. And when people did seek her it wasn't normally for social activities; it was with a purpose. Mew had very few friends, and was quite the loner really, and an awkward feeling about it all settled within her mind. After the strangely furred girl entered the room, Mew quickly turned around, closing the door behind her as to not let all of the heat out. It wasn't the fact that it was so cold outside that had made her prefer being inside with a fireplace, but it was the atmosphere and the fireplace itself that made her want to stay inside.
When her light head had turned back again to face the room they were in, Cwmfen had moved over to the piano - black fingers very barely touching some of the keys. It was a strange object, Mew'd agree, and it'd taken her a lot of effort to understand that too, just like the music machine in the library. But this one did not need electricity, just friendly care and steady use. And it was easy enough to grasp the concept of how it worked, just different from the guitar. Smiling, Mew strode over to the large instrument (it was probably more of a musical furniture, really), quickly bending to open up the top of the piano chair which held all the sheet music. It's a piano! Enthusiasm rose in her and she could not stop herself. It's for playing music! Sheets of paper with dots on lines were drawn out of the chair and put onto the little shelve suited for them above the keys on the instrument, and after putting them there Mew quickly decided to perhaps calm down a little. Resting her hands on her hips, she stood back a second, so she wouldn't scare the crap out of the not-so-familiar pack member. Green eyes were eagerly awating a response, and deciding where to focus her gaze in those strange white orbs came much easier this time. It was just a thing to get used to, probably.
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500+
As Mew strode over, Cwmfen took her white eyes from the piano and watched the white woman. Still curious about the large thing she was touching, she remained silent, hoping that the other female would explain it to her. At first, she worried that she had offended the other somehow, as the silence was not filled. But then she noticed that the other carried a smile on her lips, and the black, woad-marked tail waved once happily. The other’s excitement was felt by the black fae through the energy in the air. The black ears pricked forward as Mew opened the bench, Cwmfen craned her neck to see what the furniture held in its seat. She hadn’t seen anything like it before, but then she didn’t really pay much attention to much of the humans’ existence, or what was left of them anyway.
It appeared that the white female pulled out paper. She couldn’t read, so she assumed that the dots on the paper were some sort of human language—and, to a certain point, her assumption could be said to be correct. A bit of confusion came into her eyes as she considered the paper, unable to understand its importance. “Piano?” the black female asked slowly. That word was vaguely familiar to her, and she struggled to remember where she had heard it and what it meant. She was silent for a while, and as she thought, she moved her hand across the keys, unintentionally pressing down on them. The dissonant boom that crashed through the air sent jolts of shock up her arm. Her hackles raised in alarm, but she hadn’t flinched. As if on queue, Mew explained its importance. “Oh, yes, music!” now she remembered. The black female laughed quietly at herself and her shock. Shaking herself, she composed herself. “That sound--” the melodic voice began, referring to the dissonant chord, “—It’s just not what I was expecting....” And then she was laughing again, a woad-marked hand coming up to cover her smiling mouth.
The white orbs found the green ones. She saw how excited the other was, and she wondered if she knew how to use it. “Do you play the piano too?” She was curious now. What did a song sound like when played on a piano? The sound...she couldn’t imagine it. But the instrument was so huge, she could not understand why one would play it (of course, she only needed to hear its sound to understand). Then she remembered the paper and turned to look at it. She gestured at it. “What is that for?” The woad-marked head tilted as she looked at it. Now that she was really looking, she noticed how strange it was. There were so many lines—horizontal and vertical—as well as dots. There were many dots. As the fire crackled and popped, her ears swiveled to listen; it was a habit instilled in her from her travels alone. But she quickly disregarded it, turning her attention back to the musical matter at hand.
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Word count: 456
It seemed that Cwmfen too harbored some natural curiosity, illustrated as she let her fingers fall down on the keys of the piano. The sound that was the result was a mixture of half and whole intervals, and quite dissonant, ringing through the air. If played right even the dissonant chords could be beautiful, but of course now Cwmfen had only struck the tones to hear what it sounded like - the chord had not been part of music. If it had been it would probably have fit better. Mew had only just recently discovered that the "ugly" tones were useful too, after finding some black discs with something called "jazz" on them, or at least some of them were named using that word, so she assumed it was some sort of style. And they used a lot of ugly chords, but it didn't sound particularly ugly. It was confusing, but fun to explore. Giggling as she watched the physical reaction to the sound so incredibly visible in the dark girl in front of her, Mew's hand too rose to her mouth. A truly priceless face Cwmfen had put on!
Well.. I try to. I want to play anything I find, so many instruments make such beautiful sounds. Mew nodded to the femme in front of her, deciding to elaborate. It's not that hard, really, since I'm lucky and can read. There are lots of books that I can learn from, and once you've understood the music language you can play the melodies on most instruments. It was wonderfully organized, really. As if the humans had somehow known that a wholly other species might pick it up one day, and prepared for it. Oh, these are explanations to what tones I should play to do this melody, in the written music language. Going forward and sitting down on the piano chair, she pointed at a note; a small dot with a line pointing upwards through the five lines that went horizontally across the whole paper. This one had an additional little line through its dot, and Mew quickly pointed at the key named C on the keyboard with the other hand. Sitting a little awkwardly, she didn't really pay attention to that at all. So that sign there means "C", and this key is named "C" on the piano, so it tells me to play that tone. And all the other dots are other tones on the piano. Ingenious isn't it? Her tail wagged behind her and brushed the floor every so often as eager green orbs awaited an equally enthusiastic response from the girl. And well, if she did not find it amazing, then Mew wasn't fussed. She was used to not sharing her passion.
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500+
Cwmfen’s woad banded ears swiveled back bashfully as the other female laughed. But she knew that they were both laughing together, and that the other female did not laugh to mock her. This made her feel more comfortable.... It was strange, she thought silently to herself, that she herself should be behaving in such a lighthearted manor. While her belligerent tendencies were reined in with careful control (as was the way with those trained in battle) and her demeanor was usually portrayed as tranquil and taciturn, the black female rarely found time, need, or purpose in such play. Yet, on this cold, snowing day, by chance a white female had called to her. By chance, she found herself in this playful, unimposing situation. The white-eyed female found the circumstances to be unusual, but the circumstances proved to be pleasant as well. While she had been nervous before, now she was almost glad for the unexpected company. A genuine smile (though when were any of her smiles false?) danced upon her black lips as she considered the green-eyed female before her.
It seemed to her that music was to Mew that war was to herself. Mew wanted to play all instruments to create beautiful music, to communicate that which could not be communicated through words. Cwmfen wanted to know the arts of war to protect herself and others, to feel the thrill and rush of death brushing by. Understanding came into those white eyes as she smiled at the other female. "I wanted to learn the flute," Cwmfen remarked quietly. She had simply not found the time, and now she figured it too late. Her voice was her only instrument, and it was plain and simple, without the special adornments that Mew had applied at the feast, even while merely humming. Her voice was like her, she thought suddenly. "But I never had the time." Or perhaps she had never made time for it, for her passion had been—and still was—with war. But now that she was here, she did have some time on her hands. Perhaps she would ask Mew later to help her with that task.
As the white female began to explain what the markings meant, the warrior walked around to stand behind the chair of the piano, yet not directly behind the superior, observing the marks that were indicated. Cwmfen did not quite understand everything that Mew said, but she listened with genuine interest. When Mew had finished, Cwmfen responded with a quiet and thoughtful, "I’ll say," as she leaned forward to better see those black dots and lines. "I’ve never seen anything like this before.... Where I hail, the music is learned by ear and soul." Because she was from that culture, Cwmfen could not see the necessity of creating such an alphabet, especially because she felt that one could get lost in the reading of it (she herself was doing just that as she studied it silently) when the true importance was in the soul. But, if such things were learned and memorized, personal deviations could be made, she decided at length, nodding imperceptibly to herself in approval. "But I suppose this would help to immortalize a song...." The woad marked female turned to look at the white female, marveling at her diligence. If she could read that, then truly she must be at the top of her trade. The black female did not think that she would need to learn that strange, dotted alphabet if she learned the flute, only how to produce the sound. But that would be later.
Now, the matter of the piano was at hand. The female wanted to better understand the passion of her friend, and so she studied the paper a bit more before asking, "Can you play what’s on this paper?" And her tail wagged several times, for she was curious to know what secrets that seemingly meaningless paper could hold.
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Posted as the wrong character again (
Word count: 574
Though Cwmfen proved to be from a wholly different culture, Mew was sort of the same herself. There was no real music culture amongst the wolves that lived here as far as she knew, only individuals who found the joy of playing with musical concepts. Thus, Mew's take on music was completely her own and not a result of any tradition. The musician of the pack was not bound by any old customs, nor was she required to tell stories of past heroes or any of the like. The pack was too young to have a proper storyline, but perhaps she should try this? It had never really occurred to her that she could, seeing as there wasn't much to tell. She could always write songs, but she doubted the quality of them, and also.. what should she write about? Sure, they had gone through a war, but there were hardly any heroic tales to tell of that. Or perhaps one; how they had managed to end it. But Mew wasn't entirely happy with that, so she quickly decided she should leave the subject alone altogether. Promptly, then, ignoring the line of thought, she focused on the words that Cwmfen spoke, nodding to her as she listened. There's not really a tradition of learning music here, I sort of just picked it up myself because I wanted to. I assumed the humans probably knew a lot about it, so I sought their knowledge on music. Flipping through the book with absent fingers as she spoke, Mew realized she hadn't really spoken to anyone about this before. Or a little, with Slay, but that night they had simply enjoyed the music and paid each other friendly company, until the storm subsided and the air was less hostile so they could return to their dens. It was some time ago, but it had been fun, especially with Slay singing along with his untrained voice. The results had been more than entertaining enough!
Flipping a page she put the book on the shelve again, having found a piece that she had practiced a little. The book was named "A classical piano collection for beginners" and suited her perfectly. It was so different to play from the guitar, and especially her left hand did not always do as she wished. The piece she'd shown the dark-furred girl was apparently written by some man named Beethoven, and was named "the Moonlight Sonata". She loved the full moon herself (what shifter didn't?), but she had no idea what a sonata was. She merely knew that it was - as far as she'd played around with it - a beautiful piece. Yeah sure! This one's apparently about the moon. The fingers of her right hand played a repetitive pattern which went through only minor changes along the way, but as the left hand also played different notes the result was a series of different sounds altogether, moving both rapidly and slowly at the same time, creating a blanket of tones that was pleasing to the ear. Dramatic turns in highpoints and chords in the melody tossed her emotions this way and that, and though she was eager to hear the rest, only halfway did she have to give up. That's as far as I've come in practicing the piece. She didn't want to say anything else. It would be up to Cwmfen to decide whether there was any quality to it.
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Sorry for the wait~
500+
Cwmfen’s woad-marked tail waved several times as she smiled at the green eyed female. The curious female wondered what sort of music was held on that simple piece of paper. Once more, she gazed upon the black and white sheet, unable to comprehend, and could not see how these dots resembled anything close to music. She did notice, now, that not all of the marks were identical: some had flags, others did not have stems, and others were connected to each other by a bar. The markings also varied in height, and occasionally there were markings next to these black sprouts. Yet, being ignorant of the representation of the notes, even having noticed such differences, she could not discern their significance. Of course, now that Mew had accepted the offer to play from one of those sheets, she would be able to hear the music that the humans had left behind.
When the white fae began to play, Cwmfen looked away from the paper, for she wished only to explore the music itself. The style that was portrayed through the music was not recognized by the black fae, for it did not resemble anything from her country. Yet, she did not find it unpleasant. There was a strange quality about the tale being told in the music. It was remorseful, and at times resolute. The melody was of a terrible beauty, something perhaps feared and revered at once. The female leaned on the piano, closing her eyes as she allowed the music to flow through her. The warrior wondered what the humans could have found so antithetical, for as a wolf she could not readily relate to their exotic music. The moon, Mew had said. It was strange that humans feared the moon so. Yet, she had heard that the humans feared anything of the unknown, of nature, of the wolf. The moon was all of these things, and the simple yet complex minds of the humans would surely have been bewildered by that white orb that shifted in the heavens.
When the music stopped suddenly, the listening female was jarred back into reality, for the suddenness of the abrupt ending was not an expected one. She turned and looked at the white female inquisitively. When Mew explained that that was as far as she’d come, Cwmfen nodded, understanding now that the suddenness was not a part of the piece. Ignoring that unfinished aspect of the tale, she considered what had occurred prior. "It was beautiful..." Indeed she had found it to be so. The white eyed female was silent for a moment as if considering the song which rang still in the silent room, thwarted only by the crackling of the fire. "It is strange that the humans perceived the moon in such away. Yet, I have seen a few of our own who have done so similarly." A feared entity. But all things are of one great entity. The moon is a part of us, just as we are a part of the moon.
Cwmfen, who had been turned towards the bright tongues of the flames, turned back to her packmate. "Why do you not more frequently share such narrative music with the pack?" The female tilted her head as she inquired, her voice gentle as she spoke. Such talent should be shared.
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Crappy reply, sorry about that
Word count: 561
The tale that was told from the music was that of a feared entity, true, but also of its power. The moon, such a mysterious item, hanging there in the skies, as if looking down on the inhabitants of the world. Not adored by as many as his greater sister the sun, the moon is still magnificent, but perhaps in a more modest way. Still it forces anyone that looks upon it to remember that the world is larger, everything is larger, than the individual's life. Just the sight of a celestial body like that forces you to remember that there are things that are mighty, and powerful, that we do not understand. It could be a threat, and it could be a blessing. We don't know which. But it is certainly beautiful, and scary at the same time.
Personally, Mew loved the moon, but this was partly because its movement across the skies and the shape it took that was different each day was so much incorporated into her being that she could not help it. She measured time by the moon, where she was, and where she would go. The moon decided what happened in her life in terms of cycles and other female things as well. There was in other words, nothing scary in her view of the moon. But she could still understand the darkness of the song. She interpreted it to be an image of the power the moon displayed by its mere presence in their lives. And some of those gloomier tones she saw as simply how the night was darker, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. it suited her views of the moon perfectly, really, and she could not wait until she had learned more of it.
Moving her hands from the keys to lie in her lap, Mew blushed at Cwmfen's praise. It wasn't that hard really. It wasn't as if she was some maestro. But she was glad that Cwmfen had enjoyed the music - because that was what it was for, or at least Mew thought so. It was for enhancing feelings, and bringing forward feelings that one didn't necessarily know was there. And to let one's mind drift away in thoughts one doesn't know what are, happily doing nothing else but swim and be one with the music. That was what music was for, and if Mew could play and someone else would have an experience even just a little close to that definition, then Mew was more than happy. Nodding to the words that the darker femme uttered, Mew thought the same but did not respond. The femme quickly offered her something to respond to, however, and Mew again thought how different Cwmfen's world had been before she came here. Or perhaps better said, how different they were where she came from, compared to how they did things here. Well... nobody ever asks, really.. I mean this thing, this music, it is a personal hobby. And though I carry the title as the pack's musician, it is only because no one has challenged me to it, really. I requested it, and I got it. And in pack relations it doesn't seem as if anyone are interested in using m skills for anything public. Green eyes looked into those odd but fascinating white orbs as she waited for a reply.
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