Younger than the mountains, blowing like a breeze

For Sedona

POSTED: Thu Jan 03, 2019 11:09 pm

WC: 241

The afternoon sun was warm on Falcon’s fur. He missed the feeling of grass under his back, the pale green fields that went on for miles. His first winter passed in a haze of snowstorms and long nights alone, but his mother had made up for it in other ways. Falcon let himself wonder, if only for a moment, how she was doing. Was she still in the forests of his youth, making prayers to old women in the woods? Falcon didn’t know—he just knew he didn’t miss the smoke.

Distant music caught the green-eyed hybrid’s ear. He sat up in the snow and listened closer. It sounded kind of like a lute, but not quite. Falcon pushed himself to his feet, stretched, and starting searching for its source. He walked toward Old Brassard church, ears twitching as he looked down the quiet, snowy streets of Winterwynd. Everything, and everyone, was so spread out here. He still wasn’t used to it.

”Found you!” Falcon called out, spotting Sedona on her porch. The red-brown hybrid was strumming an odd, stringed instrument that he’d never seen before. It had a long neck and a round body, like a big lute, but shaped differently. ”What instrument is that?” he asked, padding over to Sedona. Falcon’s gift was his voice, but he liked stringed instruments, too. Maybe Sedona could teach him a thing or two.
Note: Falcon uses he/him pronouns publicly (i.e. to most packmates, acquaintances, and strangers) and she/her pronouns privately (i.e. to specific, close friends).
Coyote Hybrid
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With great distinction, I carry on They stole my dirty socks... :( Spring Spree 2020

POSTED: Thu Jan 03, 2019 11:26 pm

WC: 340

Sedona had traded off a few heavy indian blankets to a loner for the beautifully crafted guitar she now cradled in her arms, fingers plucking at a few notes of song here and there into the afternoon air. While she was by no means an expert at playing, she was learning, and now that she had her own instrument, rather than plucking about with the strings from other's guitars when she found someone who was willing to allow her to try her paw at a tune, she could practice whenever she liked. The last time she was able to play for any amount of time was the last time she had been to Amherst and seen Walker. The charming male had not only played for her, but she'd picked up a few things watching him. It made the woman's heart soar to hear the old country sound, and now that she could reproduce it whenever she wished, it was a hobby she intended to take up more often, especially as the season warmed.

The crisp musical notes the coydog played didn't make any real song yet, but were more just chords. However that didn't seem to stop her from drawing a guest to listen to her play. Sitting on the railing to her front porch, Sedona, leaned against the side of her home, strumming idly when from the drive approached a familiar face. Falcon. She looked up and smiled, tail thumping against the snow dusted railing as he spoke. "Found you! What instrument is that?" The Hawkesond chuckled and held up the shiny wooden instrument, the light catching on it's polished surface. "This? It's a guitar. Y'never seen or played one before?" She asked him, hopping off the rail and waving the male up onto the porch where a log bench had been placed. She went to sit upon it, patting the spot beside her, inviting him to join her. "I ain't no expert, but I can show ya a thing or two." The Hawkesond offered with a friendly grin.


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