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black river reserve

POSTED: Sun Jun 02, 2019 5:36 pm

and it's all right where it belongs

"Aww..."

Sometimes — not often, mind you — things required some upkeep. Aly found that some of her older pieces, while not shoddy or falling apart or anything of the sort, were not as meticulously crafted as her newer works; therefore, given they had been rubbing up against other pieces of fabric and continuously pulled out to show to strangers for trade and such, sometimes the seams wore thin. That was what she was pouting about currently, as her mint green dress had developed a long hole along the side. She wondered how she could have missed that, given how often she scanned over her inventory.

It was quite odd, really. A thin layer of tulle separated the interior cotton slip from the elements, and yet that was what was damaged. Luckily there was an easy solution; just a bit of string would do the trick. Settling against a thick tree trunk, she rummaged through the canvas backpack for some spare materials. Unfortunately she didn't have any string the same color as the garb, but she was going to sew it from the inside anyway, so it didn't especially matter. Turning the dress inside out, she let out a soft "hmm" as she decided where to begin sewing, and with a decisive nod, the speckled wolfdog got to work.

Deft hands gingerly and painstakingly-slowly fed a length of white string through her trusty needle, and she tied off the end before pulling the two sides together and gradually weaving the string back and forth. It wouldn't take much to fix the hole, but Aly was being careful; she didn't really want to have to do this again, after all. The stitch was close together and seamless, and soon enough she was almost halfway through. It was a rather sizable run, one that wouldn't take forever to close, but a longer time than usual given she wanted the seam to appear as invisible as possible when she flipped the dress inside out once more.

She hummed quietly as she worked, a tuneless song with a happy, empty tone.

backdated to late May! come chat with aly as she sews up a hole :> | [wc — 351] template by hilli
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Salsola
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flowers of naivety

POSTED: Sun Jun 02, 2019 5:50 pm

When he heard the humming he somehow immediately knew that it was the sound of someone deep in thought – the equivalent of a mindless wandering through song. Mateo felt his ears prick through the trees from Ombra’s back – and he tapped the horses neck to turn her, ignoring the reigns which he had looped over the horn of his saddle while he wrote.

Ever since he had met Theodora it was as if his mind had begun to overflow; words and snippets of song, lyrics and sketches – all of it was committed to the page, and he was certain that the notebook that he had perched against his thigh was beginning to be overfull. The charcoal in his hands had stained his fingers black, but he was writing again – smudging out the word amethyst because he had written it too many times and it had begun to haunt him.

He had found her in Casa di Cavalieri, and now that he knew she was there it took everything in him not to go back. To learn more about her.

Ruckus teased him now from around his black eye, leered at him whenever Mateo wistfully gazed out through the trees that surrounded The Troupes camp.

”You can’t do this everytime you meet a girl.” He had laughed at him, scratching wildly at the heavy leather collar about his neck as he did so.

Perhaps it was true.

But Mateo couldn’t help himself.

When they finally found the source of the music Mateo dropped from the horses back and hid his notebook deep in his pocket. The speckled girl was bent over a dress that was pooled in her lap, pale thread caught up between her teeth as she meticulously worked.

”Senora,” He offered smoothly, his large violet eyes sparkling, ”What a wonderful tune – I was brought here by the sound of your voice.”

:D

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POSTED: Sun Jun 02, 2019 7:40 pm

and it's all right where it belongs

Between passes with the needle, she sensed another's approach. There were the distinctive clopping steps of a horse, and a gentle breeze brought forth the smell of a male canine nearby. Blinking, Aly looked up from her work, a lock of snowy white hair falling between her dark eyes, but he was still a ways away; quickly, the wolfdog worked to finish up her stitch, but even as he dismounted she still had several more passes before it was complete.

But when she met his bright lavender eyes with her own blue ones, she immediately halted her progress.

He called to her with a sweet, sing-songy drawl, his accent light but so vaguely familiar... A tongue she knew, but was not fluent in. It was her mother's native language, one she hadn't really ever drilled into her children very vigorously, but she and Manny had picked up on a few words throughout their youth. Besides, perhaps matching his culture would endear her to the stranger even more.

His words caused her face to heat up, and she smiled at him widely, dipping her head shyly. "Hola, señor," she returned amicably, setting aside the dress to stand and meet this lovely, handsome, suave — Stop it, you're doing that thing again. Nevertheless, her arms clasped loosely in front of her tulle skirt, her whole demeanor oozing girlishness and coyness. "Do I really sound that good?" she asked innocently, her head tilting doggishly as a questioning finger tapped at her muzzle. "I have never... drawn an audience before." She giggled at her own words.

"My name is Alejandra," she offered, making sure to accentuate her natural inflection even more dramatically than usual.

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flowers of naivety

POSTED: Mon Jun 10, 2019 5:32 pm

There was something about the pale mist of her hair that drew him closer, the sky-blue sheen of her eyes delicately soft as she focused on her work. When she realized his presence, he wagged his tail at her, dipping his head in a chivalrous greeting that he had so often seen Calrian and Malik do before.

He was immediately impressed when she responded to him in his own tongue – and he felt himself brighten beneath the lilt in her tone. There was something light and girlish about the way she pressed her hands together and smiled at him, her lashes fluttering as she introduced herself.

”My name is Mateo, mi preciosa, He was surprised by his own charm, but went with it as he crept closer. ”I don’t think you so much drew me as… Sang me here.” His ears twitched and he offered another beaming smile, ”You were wonderful.”

He moved to sit alongside her, ”Where is the song from?”

:D

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POSTED: Wed Jun 12, 2019 8:18 pm

and it's all right where it belongs

It seemed her little trick worked; the man seemed the straighten his back at the familiar tone, and Aly's own smile only grew wider at the pleasing results. He drew closer, gifting her coy attempts with a name befitting of such a captivating and inviting man. "Mateo," she repeated, mimicking his dialect once again — a gross overstatement of her own subtle one. Nonetheless, his name felt natural in her mouth, and the intonation was not at all forced or tacky. "I like that name."

His winning smile made her heart skip a beat, and as he slid to sit beside her, she felt butterflies flutter in her stomach; though it was a good sort of nervousness, she decided, not a bad sort. She blinked at his confusion, her expression blank for a moment before she laughed. "Oh, well it — it's nothing, really. I just kind of... made it up... just now." Her giggling was a bit sheepish. "I didn't know it sounded so nice, though!" Her eyes squinted from how toothy her beam was, her cheeks beginning to tire from the intensity. But it was sincere and childlike, and she moved to place her hands complacently in her lap.

"What were you doing before I 'sang you here,' Mateo?"

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flowers of naivety

POSTED: Sun Jun 16, 2019 11:25 pm

Mateo leaned back in his seat and blinked thoughtfully at the pale-haired girl with the dress still lingering between her delicate hands. Alejandra was a woman who spoke his language, who understood the subtle accent that sometimes danced around his words. When he finally spoke it was with a beaming smile that had his face twisting handsomely. ”Well Alejandra, I will have you know that I am a collector of songs.” Malik had turned him to the beauty in the sung word, and slowly the poet found himself humming tunes to the poems that so often had their own rhythm outside of song.

”Sometimes I run into people who haven’t heard a good song in ages! If you just made that up… well, there must be more where that came from.”

He resisted the urge to tweak the curled end of a pale wave of her hair. "You must have learned to do that somewhere."

”Oh, me?” He leaned back further so that he could rest upon his elbows, ”We have a camp nearby – sometimes I get bored of seeing the same faces day after day.”

He chuckled softly, ”We call ourselves The Troupe.” He wiggled his toes, "If you are on your lonesome we are always happy to host a stranger for a night or two - but our Bard will make you sing for your supper."

:D

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POSTED: Mon Jun 17, 2019 4:02 pm

and it's all right where it belongs

The seafoam green regalia was still sitting daintily in her dark paws, waiting to be fixed, and yet Mateo's intriguing lavender irises kept her attention locked on him entirely; the pleasant accent peppering his tenor voice, the ease of which he spoke with it, the comfortable aura he exuded so freely. "Shall you collect this, then?" She let out a soft, even hum, her tail wagging proudly behind her, before it broke into more laughing.

Nevermind that it wasn't a song, just a simple tone, but still.

"My mother used to sing to my brother and me when we were young," she explained simply, sliding the forgotten dress back into her bag without breaking his lovely gaze. "Or I guess... mi madre used to sing, you could say?" She didn't want to let on that she wasn't fluent in that tongue, and yet she still wanted to impress him anyway with it.

He had his own little group, it seemed. How quaint! "A bard?" she asked curiously. "Is that a singer of some sort? A performer?" Surely he dealt with music and song if he would require such from her. Yet the term remained unfamiliar. She smiled wider still, "Maybe I could sing if you joined me. It's easier and better when you aren't alone, I think." There had been many times whilst traveling the little family would hum lightly alongside each other, passing the harmonies to another and joining together before the end. It was quite a heartwarming experience to Aly, one she had been sorely missing.

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flowers of naivety

POSTED: Mon Jun 17, 2019 4:36 pm

Mateo reached out as if to grab the note she sung, holding his empty hand before his with an expression of mirth and scrutiny before he tucked the song into one of the many pockets in his vest. ”That was perfect.” He threw back his head and laughed, ”A song does not need to have words to be a song. You should see the way that our Bard works – his nose is always buried deep into his lute, plucking notes for a song that he hasn’t even written yet.”

He suddenly grinned proudly and thumped his chest, ”That is where I come in. I am the Minstrel that helps but words to his songs.” His ears pricked forward, ”I’ve always been a poet, eager to capture whatever beauty-“ His brows rose at her and he continued, ”-in the written word.”

The Salcedo leaned close, ”If you hum something perhaps we can put words to it together?”

:D

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POSTED: Mon Jun 17, 2019 5:37 pm

and it's all right where it belongs

His laughter matched the feel of her own, one so airy and comfortable as if they were long lost friends. And really, it did not take long at all for Aly to feel as though Mateo was some close confidant, as his warm smile was pulling her closer and closer into him. She watched him with doggish, childlike interest, the fluid movements of his hands confounding and endearing all the same, and she found her jaw slack and a simple "oh" leaving her dark lips as he continued.

"Is a lute an instrument of some sort?" she asked, hoping her questions weren't draining him, but as his vigor grew she knew that wasn't at all the case."A poet?" she repeated excitedly, her hands again coming together in awe. "That's so exciting!" He drew closer again with a sly suggestion, and she bobbed her head instantly. "Yes, yes!"

Clearing her throat, Aly closed her eyes lightly, any semblance of embarrassment or shyness melting away in his calming presence. He was so fond of her voice already, surely she could not misstep now. The pitch was low at first, even and unwavering, before it crescendo into a pretty alto note, warbling with vibrato. One blue eye cracked open to see how he'd react, to see what his artisan mind would come up with.

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flowers of naivety

POSTED: Mon Jul 01, 2019 12:45 am

Mateo wished for a moment that he had the lute so that he could show her its power – much the same way that Malik had shown it to him on the banks of the riverside. ”You’ve never seen a lute?” He admonished with a shocked expression, ”My lady! Why, its only the most wonderful instrument in all of the land!” He held up his hands and pretended to strum, ”Our bard plays it very well – he plucks notes as if straight from the air!”

He leaned in closer when she began to sing, the pretty humming notes soothing in his ears.

He cleared his throat, siphoning words through his mind with a look that was made up of pure concentration. When he caught her peering at him he puffed up his chest proudly and began.

”She wove golden rays of sunshine,
Into a long and flowing dress,
Blossoms grew on everything she touched,
Natures sweet caress,
Everywhere the girl did go,
The flowers did all bloom.”

He grinned at her, gathering her hand in his to gently nose it with a kiss.

"What do you think?"

I adapted the poem off of something random from pinterest!

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