Coming apart at the seams
#1
wc:450+

She was unwanted...unloved, and washed up. Taliesin had left her, and while she thought it was only going to be for a short while, maybe to clear his head up, to put the second child to rest that they had. However, despite what everyone telling her that he was not coming back, she waited, and waited. She was just a fool, a faithful fool. Never the less, she was a fool. She should have listened to Aro, and stayed away from him. Yes, he was this white prince to ride in, say all the right things. Taliesin also made sure to ride her off into the sunset, and take her to D’Arte. All these broken promises.
She rolled off her back onto her stomach, gathering up an arm full of the unwashed sheets, as she ran her nose though them. Trying to get a whiff of the last bits of Taliesin that was in the sheets. She knew that if he was here, he would be shooing her out of the house so that he could wash the sheets. She didn’t want to wash them, she didn’t even want to pick up the room that they two had once shared. She sighed, as she ran her nose though the sheet again, as she let out a soft whine.
Rolling to her side, she squirmed over to the side of the bed, the two shared, putting her paw pads down onto the ground. It was cold..how ironic. Sitting there as once again the realization that she was alone, and Taliesin wasn’t coming back. She lifted her head looking up and out. If she was going to live a life without him, she was going to marry the land. After all she lived for love, and look where that got her? Two dead kids. She was clearly not the mother type.
She rolled forward with a grunt picking up her staff. She loved her staff and it was faithful to her. She knew in all times that her staff was there. She stood up, as she moved outside moving to the stables, there she had been using the tie up for ever so long as target practice. She drew back, as she let the air out, as she swag, feeling the connection, the raw power that was there. She felt some of her anger, sadness, and confusion flow out of her body, and into the staff. The staff was able to take her feeling and let them fly into her attacks. She needed to get these feelings out of her body.
There was no more feeling sorry for herself any more, Taliesin left her, and now she needed to go on...again.
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#2
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He had not known Taliesin well, and their acquaintanceship had been little more than a recognition of face and an acknowledging nod in few times of passing. What Micah had known was that the pack revolved around the white, high-ranked d'Artisan to some minor extent; the coyote could have sworn he had seen Taliesin with both Kenna and Skye at different times, and frankly Micah did not know exactly what it was everyone had seen in him to create such attraction. Sure, he was a heroic figure in the least at a glance, and one present long enough for even the leader to rely on, but was he a warrior? An artist? A merchant? Micah knew nothing of the Rhiannon's talents and interests. He knew nothing but that Taliesin had been quite popular.


Of course, Micah had never been jealous. He himself did not develop feelings fleetingly, and only considered it worthy of his time when he did at long last. It had been many months since he had seen the last individual of interest and all hope had been consequently lost, though Micah had mentioned nothing even to Mimi while she still resided under his care. The Lykoi was a private, homely type. He did not understand quick relationships, if they could be called that. Informal trysts of the body. The man had been surrounded by it all his years in Juniper Peace and yet walked away with nothing but disillusionment and the slight taste of disgust.


He would not judge them poorly, though. If anything, the coy might have encouraged it even if he did not follow through himself. Love was a powerful thing—Micah knew that most of all. It was not to be taken lightly, and yet to be yearned in its absence and praised in its success.


The sojourn to Wolfville for painting supplies had been a success with the help of Bark, and though the fitful stallion left behind by Lowry had not quite warmed up to him yet, Micah enjoyed his company and considered it a personal goal to forge some sort of friendship between them. Come spring he would trade for vegetables to treat the horse, but until then could offer brushing and kind words alone. A short walk from his Thornbury home to the stables found Sophia training nearby, in clear vision even from a distance. The two were not well-acquainted past first names—he could not recall a single conversation between them—but the unflinching frown and stiff power in her movements signaled a quiet despair.


"Sophia," he acknowledged, ducking past to retrieve a brush from the inner wall. He picked nervously at its bristles and watched her a short time before speaking up again. "You don't look, um... I'm sorry, but are you all right?"

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#3
She did not wish for others to know just really how bad she was hurting, she was a Knight, and wanted everyone to see how strong the Knights were. That feeling that shook her body when her wooden staff connected with the hitching post it was her release of all the feelings that the male had left her with. It didn’t help that some many times she had stood in this spot and thought of him while beating upon the post. The lady drew her staff back as she huffed, holding her stance as she growled. This was her time to be stronger, and show herself that she did not need a male (or female for that matter) to make her life better.
She snorted as she again swung, aiming at the pole. Her staff hit, having chips of the post fly off, as she spun on her heals and used her elbows, as she gave a soft sigh. This was her release, and to her beating on some wooden pole was her way to help her recover both physically and emotionally from everything that happened a few moons ago.
The voice, she had never heard it, but the scent that she knew to be of the pack’s. Shed spun around, she looked at the male, as she shrugged her shoulders. ”Aye, why wouldn’t I be?” She looked at the male, as she brought her staff down, planting it into the ground.
She was a Knight, she would not show her real emotions, they would not help the pack heal from the rift that he had made by leaving them.
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#4
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"Well, you're..." The Lykoi visibly jumped as the staff jabbed into the dirt, hands raising and fingers pulling frantically at the bristles of the brush as if in automatic motion. He could have sworn he sensed something wrong—usually his empathy, though overreactive, was in the least on the right path—but she denied it and glanced him straight in the eyes, a stare he cowered beneath in shame. "N-Nevermind. I-I was, was just... that was rude of me. I'm sorry."


They were not friends. Was it his place to have said something?


Likely not, decided Micah. Cercatori d'Arte always seemed to move on without him as if always expecting he would lag behind. He did not have "friends." Micah could not blame them, especially when trespassing on the privacy of others as he had unintentionally just done. It was a terribly rude assumption. What had come over him? He had only thought... Well, maybe he might have been of some help.


"If you want to talk about anything, it... it might be good for you, that's all," he said, eager to disappear and allow her to pretend that waste of space had never spoken in the first place.


He thought to ask her about Valerie, about Jazper, whose name he thought he had heard Sophia shared, but feared overstepping the line once again. Lingering a moment longer as if leaving one last opportunity for her to speak, Micah added, "I-I didn't know you knew how to fight. We have a lot of fighters in the pack now."

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#5
[html]OC: Got in before I went to bed...so dose that count as before Friday?! Sorry doctors and what not all week for the oldest. WC:3+

Sophia was a tough nut to crack, maybe that was another part of what pushed Taliesin away, no matter what he did Sophia did push him away. She wanted her freedom, and also wanted a family. Clearly, they did not go hand in hand. At least not for the one Sophia Knight. She failed to really to open up and allow anyone to really see the inner most working of her-self. This was proving to hold true in this area also. The Artisans was able to clearly see that something was bothering her, more so than her short tempered, normal self. However, when asked, she shut down. Went cold and short, once again her normal self.
Her orange tinted fingers clutched the staff, as she stood there. Her beloved, and trusted staff firmly planted into the earth’s ground, her green eyes looked at the male. Her eyes opened and shut as she stood there, watching him. The male came off so timid, this was puzzling to the Knight. However, she did not let her mind tune in on that.
Words? Words can help?! She wanted to laugh...words only hurt, and when they come out of her mouth they seem to just drive that nail right into the eye of the cut even more. She lacked at smooth talking. The Knight flexed her four fingers out as her thumb stayed upon the wooden stick. She gave a nod. ”Aye, Me Duh told me I best to be learning a weapon, when I’s joined his pack. Me Brother Aro, helped me pick up the staff, and a wee bit of hand to hand. Now, me Duh didn’t say that I had ta be keepin’ up with me fightin’ skills. But whut type of Knight would I be if I didn’t” Sophia was really unsure how many members of the pack now made the choice to train and be skilled in fighting. She knew of two. The other’s where a lost to her.

She felt that she owed it to Skye to be the best Knight she could be. Recently her mind had been traveling to blade throwing. She wanted to be versed in many area of fighting.
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#6
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Has he been sick? :o I don't think I've seen you mention anything on FB.

As if with a shell of bronze still Sophia refused to open up to him. Micah neither blamed nor judged her for it; he was a fidgety, nervous man, after all, and friendly as he was perhaps he did not appear the type worth forging a friendship. He understood. He might have chosen the very same in her place, looking upon one so close in age but twice as inept.


She stared through his apology, then his spoken second chance to present opportunity for her to speak of her problems, but the Knight frowned and parted nothing to him. No words of gratitude, no reassurances of a better mood than displayed, no simple summarizations of what had wronged her. Nothing. She did not speak until he forcibly changed the subject, scrambling to save what little he could of their dialogue and prepare himself to leave with some semblance of dignity.


Sophia mentioned a father and brother and confirmed herself as a Knight, drawing a long breath of relief from the Lykoi tailed with a smile more genuine than all previous. "You must have some ties to Casa di Cavalieri. I have a few friends there—Jazper and Valerie, of the Knight family as well. Do you, umm, do you know them?"


"I'd be honored to see what else you can do," Mican finished, fingers pausing from fidgets to hold the brush modestly at his side. "Jazper has trained me some but I'm, well, I'm not the best."

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