I just need to feel you near me

Weaver <3

POSTED: Mon Feb 22, 2016 5:52 pm

word count→ :: Same day as this thread, set in the evening-night.

She'd been running for what felt like hours. There was no one chasing her, not anymore. She'd heard the sharp crack of bone, the heavy thud of his hybrid body as it fell headlong into the snow. He was caught, the Cavalieri king stranded at a hostile border. Whether he escaped or was captured was out of her hands now. This fate was kinder than what he'd had in store for her and she wondered after his sense of chivalry and whether her father had been wrong about him after all...

Night was falling as already the sun was making it's slow descent below the horizon. The sky was a patchwork of colors: burnt orange, yellow, faint pink fading into an ever deepening blue. She didn't lift her gaze, did not stare at the beauty around her. Instead, she slunk back towards the Ruins tired and bruised, defeated. Her footfalls were heavy, sinking deep into the snow and her back was bare. Her heavy cloak had been abandoned at the border. She'd unclasped it to evade her brother's clutches and now her scarred back was cold. She shivered at the feel of winter's sharp kiss against her skin, hugging herself to guard against the chill.

Her heart was heavy, her thoughts dark and troubled swirling around in her head like a storm. Up ahead the northern watchtower loomed formidable in the gloom. She trudged along it, trailing her hand against the cold stone and paused.

A horse nickered and Claire turned towards the sound scenting. Buerre lifted her head to blow smoke out of her nostrils as Claire rounded the tower. The big mare met her hand as she stroked her velvety nose. But the watchtower was abandoned, Claire thought. She gazed up to the top and let her hand fall from Buerre. Her ears shifted forwards but there was no sound save for the pair of them. She moved along the wall to the tower's front and sniffed then exhaled softly, "Weaver?"

He didn't answer and all was quiet. Claire thought for a moment of returning home, then shivered. No, she didn't want to be alone. She would wait. Inside.

She looked over her shoulder before she stepped across the threshold. Her ears were low, her eyes sad and wary. She saw Alistair everywhere, in every shadow, heard him in every whisper of the breeze. "I'm sorry, too," he'd said just before he'd lunged for her.

She closed her eyes and breathed in her surroundings. Alistair wasn't here and the smell of Weaver was everywhere. She followed to where it was most concentrated- the second floor. The stairs creaked faintly under her paws but didn't give, the building itself seemed largely intact. Largely intact and large. More than one canine could live comfortably here she couldn't help but note. And the second floor was no less spacious.

She crossed her arms, rubbing her hands up and down for warmth as she stood a moment. Her ears twitched, nervous. She was shaking from the cold? She wasn't so sure anymore. She forced herself to breath deep to steady her fluttering heart then crossed the room to his bed and made a home amongst the furs. Slowly, her body warmed and her panic eased. Her breathing deepened and her eyelids fluttered shut.

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

POSTED: Thu Feb 25, 2016 3:41 pm

Without music, life would be an Error

Weaver had been out of his home all day. He had spent much of his time at the slave quarters, making sure that everything was in order. Since then, he had been moving about the rest of the ruins to get a good layout of where everything was, or better yet, where everyone lived. He wasn't trying to match places, except for Claire's given that she was the one he was looking for the last time that he seriously wandered about the area. His new home was a bit away from the others who lived around here. It was probably better for them. Who wanted to have the flirty man constantly stopping by their door? Really the only one who put up with it so well was Duncan. Guess that was why they were such good friends.

It was evening by the time the tawny man finally began to make his way back to the watchtower. As he neared it, he stopped. He caught the scent of someone coming towards hiss home. He followed the trail, finding it lead to the archway that Beurre called her home. Weaver offered the mare a soft smile before he moved his hand up, giving her a pet. Whoever it was didn't seem to bother Beurre, so he wondered who it was that was here.

As the hybrid neared the door, the scent grew stronger and more recognizable. It was Claire's, but what was she doing here? It wasn't like Weaver minded her coming into his home, but why? It was especially curious considering it seemed the scent moved upstairs, more condensed there. Was she still here? Paws carried him over to the stairs, quietly moving up and peeking into the room. There she was, laying against his large bed of pelts. Something about this just seemed different from the last two times that the two of them had been together. What had caused her to come here rather than go to her own home?

Weaver quietly stepped back down, moving to the extra pelts that he had. He already set up a smaller bed on the first floor, but had some left over. He took one of the longer ones before her made his way back upstairs. The tawny man carefully moved over to the lighter woman, laying the pelt over the top of her before he moved towards one spot in the room, picking up his lute. He returned to Claire's side, playing a soft tune as he smiled. He was happy to have her here.

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

POSTED: Thu Feb 25, 2016 5:40 pm

word count→ ::

The night was cold but the pelts were warm. She laid on her side and buried her nose in the furs immersing herself in the warmth and familiarity of his scent. Her sleep was peaceful for a time, a dreamless landscape dark and quiet, welcoming. Twilight faded into the dark of night and brought with it soft footfalls unnoticed by the sleeping she-wolf.

It wasn't until a step creaked under his pale foot that the she-wolf's spotted ear flicked. More soft footfalls and then the weight of another fur came to drape over her lithe frame. She stirred, nuzzling into the furs and shifting a hand up to rest beneath her head, but didn't wake. She was entirely at ease in her lover's bed, comforted as if it were his arms that wrapped around her and not a few lifeless pelts.

But even as she slumbered the soft thrumming of guitar strings began to draw her closer to the waking world. A quiet melody soothing and sweet made her eyelids flutter and pulled from her a gentle sigh. She stirred again but this time opened pale eyes that blinked slowly once then came to settle on the tawny shape of her lover playing his lute.

"I must have fallen asleep..." She sat up and brushed back disheveled locks of her hair, "how long have you been sitting there?" She reached out to him to brush her fingers affectionately against his cheek then glanced around her to gage how long she'd slept.

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

POSTED: Fri Feb 26, 2016 12:06 am

Without music, life would be an Error

Weaver's green eyes lingered on Claire as he stepped into the room on the second floor. She had stirred for a bit as he came to the room, but didn't wake up to his movements. That was good. For once he would let her rest rather than take advantage of her. She would wake when she was ready. Even though this was the case, he couldn't help but make things much more comfortable for her, especially if she was going to be laying in his bed.

Just as the tawny man had expected, the lighter woman gave a soft sigh, her eyes fluttering open as they turned in the direction of the music coming from his lute. It seemed that in trying to set the mood for a better sleep, he woke her up instead. She reached up, brushing her fingers gently along his cheek. His hand moved from his lute, gently taking her hand and giving it a gentle kiss as she asked her question. Weaver guided her hand back down as he turned to face her, "I only just got home. I didn't mean to wake you." The man's hand moved back down to the lute, letting the music play again. He rather liked having it this late at night, especially in her company.

A soft smile formed on Weaver's face as he leaned down, giving Claire a gentle nuzzle on her cheek fur before he offered her a question of his own, "So what brings you here? It's not often that my bed is stolen from me by such a beautiful woman over her own. Did something happen at your home?" It was the only reason he could think of as to why she would rather come here. He wasn't going to complain of course, but he was curious of the circumstances that led to this event. If it was something like that, then surely he would be able to help comfort her from whatever it was.

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

POSTED: Thu Mar 03, 2016 2:55 pm

word count→ ::

She smiled softly at his touch, the brush of his lips more than welcome in the cold night. It banished the demons from her mind, the darkness in her family's past, the cruelty those of her blood hid behind masks of decency. She was blameless of her father's crime, but waylaying justice was another all her own. Alistair had a right to be angry, she knew it to be true. His desire for vengeance was just.

Mm," she hummed. She knew he wouldn't mind her intrusion, for it was an intrusion. He hadn't yet invited her into his home, she could not pretend to be his guest. There were certain liberties, however. Sharing a bed with him before made her presence in his own much less presumptions. And he seemed to like it. She knew he would.

It wasn't long before the question was posed. She wanted to forget her troubles but that didn't remove them. She turned her gaze away from him and it was sad. For a moment it didn't look as if she was going to answer, she did, however, her voice quiet and resigned. "I met my brother today." She said. Her ears were low. "Half-brother." Alistair had been sure to differentiate. But his blood was tied to hers, they hadn't chosen this. "When you told me what you were capable of, I didn't balk. My father is such a man. He can be cruel, ruthless. He's done things. He considers my brother a mistake, one he tried to correct..." She paused to explain. "My brother is the leader of Casa di Cavalieri, a pack of warriors to the south of here, knights. We've had trouble with them in the past. They disagree with our ways, think us wicked and cruel for keeping slaves." The thought made uncomfortable. She'd been raised here and saw no fault with the practice, she'd been conditioned to accept it as the norm.

She continued despite the anxiety that welled up inside her. "A couple years ago my father infiltrated their ranks, but he was discovered by Alistair's mate. My father killed her, or tried to. When Alistair found out my father fought him, nearly killed him too, but he was injured. He managed to escape. Alistair's been searching for him ever since." Her hands were shaking.

"I was heading for the Outpost when we crossed paths...I shouldn't have told him who I was." Her voice began to shake as well. "He demanded to know where our father was. I didn't tell him, I couldn't. I..." She took in a steadying breath. "He was angry. He tried to attack me. I ran, but he pulled me down. I kicked him, ran him into a trap. I left him there and came here. I-"

"I didn't want to be alone."

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

POSTED: Sat Mar 05, 2016 11:20 am

Without music, life would be an Error

Weaver would give her everything she needed. Something had to be up if she came here instead of going home. Whatever the reason might be, he was at least glad to see that she was at peace now. He didn't care that she had come to his home while he was away. He was glad to find her here. She had to be his favorite person in Salsola aside from his sister. She would always be welcome in his home, and he hoped she understood that. He would have it not other way.

It wasn't long until the tawny man's smile had retreated. Claire began to answer the question that he posed for her. She explained that she had come across her half brother, but for the moment he didn't think nothing of it. Then she went on, not talking about her half brother, but rather about her father. She made the comparison of Weaver himself and Aeden, though to think of one of his sons as a mistake? The hybrid couldn't imagine ever thinking such a thing should he have children with more than one woman. She continued on, explaining that her half brother was the leader of another pack, particularly one that didn't approve with their slaves. Surely though under Weaver's watch, they would have a much easier time. Better to have someone with a laid back mind rather than a cruel one to look after the slaves.

Her tale of the past continued, mentioning how the two of them came to meet up with each other and ended up injuring each other before fleeing. Weaver offered her a small nod in understanding of all the information that was offered to him. It gave him context on the matter.

Her voice soon became shaky, causing the tawny man's frown to curl down even more. He had tried to attack her. At least she managed to catch him in a trap, but if he was here, then it might cause the lighter woman to feel insecure. When she finally finished, Weaver gently set his lute to the side, moving his body down to join her's. His soft smile returned to his face as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer to him, "It's alright now. You are here with me. As long as I am here, he will not harm you. I won't even let him come close to you if you wish it of me. You are safe here with me." He gave a small pause before he brushed her cheek again with his muzzle, "You are always welcome in my home Claire. You stay as long as you need to."

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

POSTED: Thu Apr 28, 2016 7:32 pm

word count→ ::

Weaver was patient, he listened. She spoke at length, and began to worry part way through that the tale was too long, that he would lose interest or interrupt her. But Weaver said nothing and his hazy green eyes scarcely left her face. Her eyes were dull and sad in comparison. She did feel insecure, weak, vulnerable . He was far more sincere than she expected. It made her wonder: was there more to this than met to eye, to them?

The musician set aside his instrument and joined his warmth to hers. In his embrace she forgot Alistair's name. If only she could forget the rest. His presence was fortifying. Her fears fled one by one turning the ominous shadows of moonglow from phantoms to friends. She liked it here, with him.

"I don't know where he is." She said softly and her voice no longer shook. "I didn't stay to watch." His assurances made her smile gently. She nuzzled into his shoulder and breathed him in. "I want to stay forever." She sighed. A beat later she took his mouth in a kiss and climbed gracefully over to sit astride him.

Her clothes were dirty and her hair was entangled with pine needles, but for once she didn't care.

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

POSTED: Fri Apr 29, 2016 9:28 am

Without music, life would be an Error

Weaver pressed himself closer to Claire, letting her rest against him. He loved the feeling of having her at his side. Although they had their game with each other, there were times when both of them could just be tender with each other. Weaver was naturally protective of women, Claire being no exception to this rule. There was no way he was going to let any harm to come to her, not if he could help it. He would protect her, whether it be from her brother, or from anyone else. She had grown on him, and he welcomed her with open arms.

Her voice was soft, trailing into his shoulder as she nuzzled into his fur. The smile he wore on his face was genuine. His fingers trailed gently along her fur as she spoke again, claiming to want to stay here forever. A small spark lit up in his head. His fingers curled gently around her arm, keeping her in his embrace, "Then stay with me Claire. Live with me. We can lay like this, every single night. I can make room for you and your slave. I will keep you safe." It would be the most amazing feeling to have her in bed with him every night, but only if she wanted it just as much as him.

The tawny man's embrace broke for the moment, sitting up to begin removing at least his tunic, his trousers remained on. This was not the time for them to have any kind of fun, something that Weaver understood, but he also knew how much she loved to play with his fur. It would be more to help calm her down. He gently set the clothes to the side, bringing his arms back around the lighter woman, "Rest Claire. It's been an eventful night. I will be right here."

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

POSTED: Mon May 09, 2016 3:51 pm

In revealing the narrow escape she'd made from her brother Claire gifted Weaver with a dangerous advantage. She'd committed no slights, and yet her reaction and her tale revealed a weakness of inaction. Alistair was an enemy of Salsola, that she knew from her father. And all she had done was trap him on their borders and disappeared. She'd told no one, she hadn't even waited around to see what became of him. She just ran...

Claire was trusting him, the very thing her father had warned her against. And not just Weaver, everyone not limited to Outsiders alone. Every one of her Family was a threat whether active or inactive and Weaver tread the path she hoped to own. They both vied for the Merchant Faction, but different aspects. He was her competition and Claire was mixing business with pleasure, and worse. Now her heart had joined the game.

Right now, she didn't care. Here, in this room, he was hers...and conversely she was his. Claire had never considered it that way before. She was a wild thin. She longed always to be free from the constraints of partnership, or marriage whether for status or begetting heirs. She just wasn't the motherly type and she did not wish to lead a life solely and wholly for ambition. She wanted to want to return home, not resign herself to dwell alongside someone she cared little for...and yet, she wanted the freedom to spend her nights with others as well. It was more than she had a right to ask for, but she wanted it, desperately-- to be cared for and loved, but also to be wanted and free to want others as well.

His reply caught her off-guard, just as he had before when he'd asked after their future. She opened her eyes to look into his. "I want to." She replied, quietly, pushing down the anxiety that coiled in her belly. "Maybe." She sighed wearily. "Can we discuss it tomorrow? I'm so tired." They would revisit this in the morning and for now she agreed with him as he called her to rest. She stripped off her clothing piece by piece as he took off his top and let them fall to the side. When she was unadorned she returned to lay partially on top of him, partially to his side with her arm draped around him and let the dark take hold.

OOC:: Wrapping this bb up! And now I am caught up on Claire!! xD
Syringa D'Angelo
Salsola
The Warden (NPC)
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Stormie
Luperci Mercante Mate to Weaver

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