Take a look through my eyes

For Claire

POSTED: Thu Jan 07, 2016 11:38 pm

OOC - Bonus Prompt: Families are very important to the Family -- have your character discuss the prospects (or downsides) of mateship or puppies with another Salsola member. Maybe you've got your eyes on someone within the pack?. It is time Stormie <3. +300 words.

WHERE WORDS FAIL, MUSIC SPEAKS

Weaver had spent the morning with his dear friend Duncan, but he wasn't done for the day. Sure it was getting dark, but that didn't mean he couldn't still be active. There was another person that he had been waiting to see again. The day that he shared with Claire had been one of his best since coming to Salsola from Canada. Sure their act had been nothing new to him, but to her, it was much more special. As far as he knew, he was the first man she had ever taken to bed. It made the tawny man feel all that much better. Sure he still held a soft spot for his cousin. He cared about her dearly, but didn't know if they would work out. It was possible they might, but until then, he would spend all the time he wanted with all the other women the Thistle Kingdom had to offer.

Finding the light colored woman's home was proving much harder than he thought. The last time they had met, he managed to lure the woman from the village over to his home. She knew where he lived, but it was not the same the other way around. She had not told him of her home nor had anyone else in the kingdom. It would be up to him to find the place on his own. Taking a detour before his search, he returned home, grabbing the lute from inside his home, slipping on the vest he had received from Till, and then setting out again. The cold of the night was beginning to settle in, but it didn't bother him. He had his mind set on finding Claire, and so he would.

His search through the village had come up empty handed. If she didn't live here, then she must be living somewhere in the ruins. The hybrid didn't come around all that often, but since he was looking for someone, he figured he could make an exception. Paws carried him across the snow covered ground. His nose sniffed the air around him until he caught something familiar. A smile returned to the man's face as he pranced forward, playing a soft tune, "Claire. Are you home ma chérie?"

Weaver Valentine
Salsola
The Overseer (NPC)
User avatar
Salena
Luperci Signorino Mate to Syringa

POSTED: Sat Jan 09, 2016 1:18 pm

word count→ :: eheehee

She was the huntress, not the hunted.

The hares hung limply over a cloaked shoulder bobbing as she walked. Her steps were a whisper over the snow, a low night noise subtle and slowly, the Ruins came into view. She adjusted the bowstring across her chest and headed down the path to home. Many Salsolans had retreated to their dwellings for the night, not yet sleeping. She caught the soft murmurs of conversation and boldly dared to quirk an ear as she passed each den listening for a secret word, an exchange she could use to elevate her position in the game. None came and she didn't linger. There were other ways to get ahead...

She passed the Bard's home and paused, debating. There were two hares on her shoulder ready to be shared and she adored the silver male, but then she remembered the dusky girl, Hel. Claire would rather spend time with the father. The daughter was still an enigma to her and she only had the two hares. Her decision made she drew her hood and pulled the cloak tighter to her lithe body and continued home...heralded by soft music.

Her head snapped as her name was called, she knew that voice. A smile spread across her pale muzzle and mischief settled into her blue gaze. She crouched and willed her steps into silence as she crept around the side of her cabin. She captured the tawny musician in her gemstone sights and slowly she rose and drew her bow, "you're awfully bold to disturb a woman's home." Claire purred. The bowstring pulled taut, a black feather arrow nocked into place. "I don't remember extending an invitation."

Within the cabin something stirred. Moments later a broad figure stood in the open doorway. Silhouetted against a backdrop of flame the shadows played upon his muscular frame making the russet hybrid appear twice his size. Rayder's septum piercing gleamed in the flickering firelight and his amber gaze was dangerous. He was yet unaware of his mistress's jest and Claire's gaze flicked only briefly to him before returning to her handsome prey. "Down, boy." she bade the slave with a breathy chuckle.

Syringa D'Angelo
Salsola
The Warden (NPC)
User avatar
Stormie
Luperci Mercante Mate to Weaver

POSTED: Thu Jan 14, 2016 4:10 pm

OOC - +300 words.

WHERE WORDS FAIL, MUSIC SPEAKS

Weaver didn't mind waiting. He could wait all night if that was the case. He was just eager to see the lighter woman once again. But then again, he wasn't even sure if this was her home. For all he knew, this could have been the wrong house and he would just be waiting here for the wrong person to come home, or for no one to be here at all. It did at least have some kind of scent, so he suspected from what he remembered of her that it was indeed her's. All that there was now was for him to wait and see. Fingers moved along the strings of the lute, keeping his tune going, though it changed a bit while he waited to hear anything. At least the music would give him some company in the lonely night.

The music began to die down as he heard the voice of the woman that he had been searching for. His ears moved in her direction but not his eyes. It didn't sound like she was speaking to him from the inside, but that was fine. He gave himself a huge smirk, deciding to play along with her game. The tune picked back up, twisting into a bit of a mischievous tone. He kept his attention on the doorway, still waiting on her to come out, "Is it wrong that I wanted to see you again? I didn't think you'd be stopping by my home again anytime soon. Besides, I thought you enjoyed mon entreprise"

The tawny man's gaze moved up to the male that stood before him. Given the way Claire spoke to him, this must have been a slave of her's, much how like how Bane had her own. Weaver kept his same posture, though soon turned his back on the door, "If you are displeased with my company, I suppose I should leave then. I wouldn't want to ruin your formidable evening." Paws started to carry him away from her home, wondering what she might do this time.

Weaver Valentine
Salsola
The Overseer (NPC)
User avatar
Salena
Luperci Signorino Mate to Syringa

POSTED: Thu Jan 21, 2016 5:25 pm

word count→ :: hurhurhur

The sound of the lute grated on her spotted ears despite how skilled a musician her one-time lover was. It was indiscreet, that he should announce himself so openly so blatantly at this late an hour- and her eyes widened at his words. She began to doubt Ondine's worth as a sponsor, her mettle as a teacher. Weaver had obviously learned nothing for her efforts here in Salsola where they valued privacy and secrecy above all. It incensed her to be called on out in the open air where others might hear, yet boldly she chose to taunt him. "Oh, and what entreprise is that?" She batted her lashes, the picture of innocence. Her voice was coy.

Rayder, sensing that his interference was not required stood down. He turned an ear to his mistress's command and nodded as he could not speak. Claire lowered her bow and rounded the cabin, for the moment ignoring their handsome guest to drape the strung hares over Rayder's brawny shoulder <"Put these on the fire,"> she instructed. <"and find our guest something to drink."> She eyed Rayder carefully at her suggestion of something. She would not waste her good wine on the Family member, no matter how familiar they were with one another.

The slave returned to the warmth of the cabin and Claire flicked an ear to Weaver's ultimatum. Her pale eyes followed the musician as he retreated into darkness and graciously, she allowed him to take a few steps before drawing her bow. She took no more than a moment to aim. Her elbow drew back and an arrow flew. Landing with a soft thunk it pierced the snow where Weaver's foot was just about to land. "Do not turn your back on me Weaver Valentine. Did I tell you to leave?"

"Do come inside," she purred and then a side of her mouth quirked slyly. "or must I loose another arrow?"

Syringa D'Angelo
Salsola
The Warden (NPC)
User avatar
Stormie
Luperci Mercante Mate to Weaver

POSTED: Sat Jan 23, 2016 1:58 am

OOC - +300 words.

WHERE WORDS FAIL, MUSIC SPEAKS

Weaver had learned plenty from his sponsor, and was still learning even though he had already proved himself to be a member of the family. He knew about how much Salsola prided itself on it's privacy and secrecy, though he didn't think that applied to everyone in the kingdom. It's not like he was causing any harm by coming here to Claire's home and seeing her. He waited patiently and soon heard her voice again. It seemed she was confused about the use of his words. He gave a small chuckle, "Ah, forgive me ma chérie. I thought you rather enjoyed the company that we shared together. I know I enjoyed your's." He gave the flick of his hand along the strings, making a small mysterious tune before it reverted back to the soft one that he played before.

The tawny man had already turned his back to the building as the lighter woman came out of her hiding place. Claire had moved over to the male that had been in the doorway, speaking to him. The hybrid man didn't pay much attention to what was going on behind him, though his ears remained open to listen to her words. He could play along with her, and was curious to see how far their fun could go.

Weaver stopped in his tracks as he heard the bow release behind him, and saw the arrow land right where his foot was about to go. He couldn't help but curl the smile on his face. The tawny man moved his foot down behind him, not wanting to step on the arrow the woman had shot at him. As Weaver's head turned to meet the lighter woman's, his devious grn came into view. He quickly turned around, heading back towards Claire's home. He paused in the tune he had been playing, rather wanting to have his attention on her rather than the music. There would be another chance for him to use it. He pranced past her and into her home, "Anything for you ma chérie." He waited inside for her, keeping the lute hanging gently over his back.

Weaver Valentine
Salsola
The Overseer (NPC)
User avatar
Salena
Luperci Signorino Mate to Syringa

POSTED: Wed Feb 03, 2016 1:22 pm

word count→ ::

Weaver was far too brazen and Claire's eyes widened at his candor. She peered with her pale gaze down the Ruins many paths, fearing that someone may have heard the musician's claim. Her father might not be living in the Kingdom any longer, but he had been a member of the inner ring and had connections hidden within the thistles and weeds of their home. A whisper was all it took...She glared daggers at Weaver, but moved on.

Just as she thought Weaver stopped in his tracks after the arrow pierced the ground before his foot. It'd been a bold move on her side. Claire was still too young to be a master of the bow and and likelihood of missing, of hitting Weaver had been a real possibility. She exhaled the tension in her body, sighing in relief to see her aim had been true.

Just as Weaver had called Claire's bluff, she soon called his. He'd never wanted to leave, not truly. He wouldn't have been so keen to turn around if he had. She smiled in triumph though the darkness hid the expression well. Claire ignored his devious grin, she'd won...This round.

She lowered the bow and pulled the heavy hide curtain aside to allow Weaver to pass inside her home, though she didn't follow him right away. Instead, Claire first retrieved her arrow and deposited it back into her quiver. Her dark fur cloak swept the snow as she turned and entered the cabin, greeted by the warmth of a blazing fire, the scent of woodsmoke.

"Anything?" She smiled a slow suggestive smile and swished her tail. "I'll remember that." She turned her back to him to remove her heavy cloak and leaned her bow and quiver against the wall. "Won't you sit down?" She said as she turned back around, smoothing her somewhat tattered black skirt, her midriff exposed by the black cropped tank she wore. She gestured to the sofa which had once been an installment in her parents' home. It was an old thing, the fabric torn here and there, and where it lacked in padding dried grasses had been sewn in instead. It was comfortable enough for a luperci, though lackluster. The same could not be said for the rest of her home.

It was a small cabin though large enough to entertain. It was comprised of both wood and stone. The living area was by far the largest room. A stone hearth dominated one wall, the couch and a small table before it. There were curios on the mantle, small pretty baubles that had caught the young woman's eye. A small ways beyond the sofa was a circular table and a couple chairs, and beyond that a quaint kitchen. A thick burgundy curtain served as the door to a medium sized bedroom beside the kitchen and diagonal to the living area. On the opposite side there was a small room just large enough for a luperci to dwell in moderate comfort, though it served a dual purpose as storage as well.

Rayder poured tea from a kettle over the fire and offered a cup to Weaver and one to Claire, though Claire waved it aside and nodded for him to place it on the table instead. He then moved on to the kitchen where he began to skin and clean the two hares Claire had provided. "Are you hungry?" The pale woman asked, though hardly paused for him to answer, instead she sat herself down unceremoniously in his lap. She took his mouth in a kiss that could hardly be described as "chaste," grinning impishly as she pulled away. "I knew you'd come." She toyed with the plush tawny fur of his chest, narrowing her eyes on his to ask, "why did you take so long?"

Syringa D'Angelo
Salsola
The Warden (NPC)
User avatar
Stormie
Luperci Mercante Mate to Weaver

POSTED: Mon Feb 08, 2016 10:55 am

OOC - +400 words.

WHERE WORDS FAIL, MUSIC SPEAKS

Weaver had turned his back after entering Claire's home to notice that she was not right behind him. He peeked out of the opening, seeing her retrive the arrow she had used to shoot at him. A grin creased over his muzzle as he closed the entrance again, waiting now for her to appear. He wouldn't be kept waiting long of course. As she stepped in through the doorway, she teased him about his words. Anything was what he said, and anything was what he meant. Claire had probably wanted the tawny man more than Ondine did, so he was willing to allow her that kind of freedom over him. He wanted more time with him. This was a good start to getting it.

The hybrid had not ignored her request, though he was a bit distracted by her body as she removed her cloak and weapon. He finally began to move when she turned, gesturing to the couch. Paws carried him over to the piece of furniture, allowing himself to take seat, though his green eyes soon returned to Claire. He just couldn't stop himself. He didn't want to look at anything else.

Weaver waved his hand to the slave, much like Claire, wanting his set aside for later. His head moved up to her question, though she slipped into his lap before he could even give an answer. He laughed, lowering his head down to her's, "Not right now. I far more enjoy having your company than some food." His right hand moved up, gently petting the lighter woman's cheek as she gave him a kiss. His eyes moved to look into her's as she spoke again. She knew he would come, but wondered why it had taken him so long. He continued to gently move his thumb along her cheek fur while she toyed with his, "I am sorry I took so long ma chérie, but I have been working within the pack to raise my status. I would like to impress you." He removed his hand from her face, holding them both open in front of her, separating them as he spoke, "How does this sound? Weaver, the Overseer of Salsola.. or.." He leaned in closer to her, smiling, "Perhaps Weaver, the Ambassador of Salsola? How does that sound?"

Weaver Valentine
Salsola
The Overseer (NPC)
User avatar
Salena
Luperci Signorino Mate to Syringa

POSTED: Wed Feb 24, 2016 3:58 pm

word count→ ::

Rayder went about his business with barely a glance in their direction, though a keen eye might catch the way his ears pressed towards them, listening. Claire paid him little attention, none at all really. She made herself comfortable in Weaver's lap, eyes dropping coyly as his hand brushed her cheek. She drew her free hand up to loosen and untie the band in her hair allowing her silken tresses to fall as free as a lover's sigh. The slightest shake of her head tumbled the hairs into perfect disarray and she glanced up from beneath her dark halo with eyes that sparkled like gemstone.

"Impress me," the temptress repeated with mild surprise. She pulled away from him in order to level a stare."Why ever would you need impress me?" Her tail curved behind her then fell flat and her expression was one of innocence and intensifying curiosity. Her eyes were inquisitive slits and her lips had turned up at the corners. Pale fingers twisted and brushed the fur of his chest, entirely at home. He was hers now, Claire always took such loving care of her possessions.

"You, in charge of the slaves?" She tittered. "I don't see it." It was hard to picture the easy-going musician commanding anyone harder yet was imagining him doling out punishments. But she wanted to. Her ears drew forward with interest. She shook her head at his other suggestion. No, I must be the Ambassador." Father would want it. The latter was thought, not said.

"Overseer, though." She contemplated more seriously. "You would need to be firm, mon amour." She met his gaze, scrutinizing him. "Could you do it? It's hard to imagine you disciplining anyone." There was more to it than that though this concept was harder to grasp. It made her question how much she actually knew him, as a person. Physically, she knew him well.

Syringa D'Angelo
Salsola
The Warden (NPC)
User avatar
Stormie
Luperci Mercante Mate to Weaver

POSTED: Fri Feb 26, 2016 12:04 am

OOC - +300 words.

WHERE WORDS FAIL, MUSIC SPEAKS

Weaver didn't pay much attention to the slave either. His attention was stolen away by the woman that rested in his lap. He waited patiently as she moved her hands up, undoing the tie in her hair. He had to admit, she looked much better when her hair was down rather than up. His hand moved from her cheek as he leaned forward. His muzzle inched closer to her cheek, moving under the locks of hair as he brushed him muzzle against her cheek. As he pulled away, he gave her a soft smile to meet one of her own.

The lighter woman seemed confused that the tawny man was trying to impress her. Why would she be? He genuinely was interested in her, and would have done this for any other woman. Around here though, it seemed like the higher rank that someone held, the more respect they had. He offered Claire a small chuckle, turning his green eye down on her hand as she began to play with the fur along his chest, "Are you complaining?" He brushed his claws gently through her fur as he continued, knowing that one question wouldn't be enough to explain himself, "I like you Claire. I want to impress you to show you I'm not just some sweet talker. Mais soyons honnête, je pense que vous aimez ça."

The hybrid brushes his muzzle against her cheek, again showing surprise in the choice of path that he had chosen for himself. He couldn't say that he was surprised by her reaction. Her reaction to him choosing to be Ambassador was a bit more so. Claire wanted to be the Ambassador. He chuckled and leaned back against the couch, "How about a little competition then? No harm in that." His arm moved around her, pulling her gently to his chest, "How little you know me Claire.. My sister and I grew up in a gang war. Do you think I wouldn't pick up on something while I was growing up? Je suis capable de choses terribles Claire."

Weaver Valentine
Salsola
The Overseer (NPC)
User avatar
Salena
Luperci Signorino Mate to Syringa

POSTED: Wed Mar 02, 2016 11:08 pm

word count→ :: We should probably get to the prompt soon, haha

She closed her eyes when his muzzle brushed beneath her newly freed locks and heaved a gentle, shuddering sigh. Her eyes became half-lidded when he withdrew, all at once sultry and soft. She was fond of him, and unlike the other men she had met this fondness was genuine. She didn't have to pretend, had no need to feign adoration. There was nothing to be gained from this relationship. He had neither power nor a name. Valentine was nothing to D'Angelo, and D'Angelo did not hold the same sway as Eternity or Revlis. But with each rendezvous it seemed to matter less and less. He made her wonder, he made her think...Of course she wouldn't admit how much she thought of him, least of all to him. This was not something her father would want, for her, for his legacy. Claire was not the master of her own destiny.

Her ears fanned forward to catch his answer then lowered as she settled back down. She nosed her muzzle into the crook of his neck, gazing up into his hazy green eyes. <"If you say so."> She teased gently, brushing her tail against his leg. She wasn't so amused by his threat of competition, however.

A soft growl bubbled in her throat though there was no true malice. "Even if you succeed, you can be usurped. I have connections." And more by the day. She'd been very young when her family had left for the outpost. She had grown up learning the art of trade. He would be hard-pressed to surpass her. Being both a woman and a member of Salsola by birth she had more than one advantage stacked against him.

He pulled her closer and she nuzzled into the hollow of his throat, carressing it with a long sweep of her tongue. She felt embarrassed when he spoke of his past. What he said was true, she knew the body not the man, himself. And she wanted to know more. It shouldn't have surprised her so much to learn of his violent history. They were not Cavaliers to cling to lofty and impractical ideals. And Claire was no stranger to the darker side of life. It intrigued her to know of Weaver's capabilities, though it was hard to take him at his word.

<"I don't know you at all."> She murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck and gripping him tighter. She thought of her father, another man capable of terrible things, a man she loved.

Syringa D'Angelo
Salsola
The Warden (NPC)
User avatar
Stormie
Luperci Mercante Mate to Weaver

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