07-26-2009, 03:30 AM
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i suck! plz forgive 
(. 411 words
The blonde girl set the flowers down, which made sense if she was going to actually respond to his question. She introduced herself, and he noted her name. Noir. Interesting combination of sounds, though he still had some sort of vague misinformed notion that names would match their carrier. After her rushed, excited speech about the flowers, Ares wondered if Noir meant something along the lines of "highly excitable super happy fun girl." If he wasn't already feeling pretty happy, he was completely sure that her good cheer would have been too contagious to resist transforming his mood into something similar. "Your name is pretty, too. Does it mean anything in particular?"
Noir said the flowers would make him even prettier. Which meant that she thought he was pretty. As juvenile and trivial as the word "pretty" would seem to your average wolf, it held especial meaning to Ares. After all, it had been his mother's compliment of choice. Hearing her call him that, then, when all throughout his childhood it had always been about Princess being pretty, and deserving pretty things.. it made a small bud of warmth bloom deep within his chest. He liked this girl, a lot. Of course, he was no where near self-aware enough to have access to why exactly her words had touched him so deeply, but the why really wasn't so much as important as the what.
"I actually do like flowers, very much! And you are most welcome to put them in my hair, if you'd like." His warm voice was teasing, as if being able to decorate his mane was actually some sort of grand and desirable privilege. Ares padded a bit closer, shrinking the gap between the two of them. His gold eyes studied hers; he hadn't ever met anyone with the same brilliant shade of yellow. Sometimes Tokyo would mutter about how they were the same damn eyes as Raphael had had, and how much she hated when Ares looked at her - like Raphael was staring back out at her. His entire childhood was spent being hated for resembling a man he hadn't even met. Ares couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like, to meet his dad. Or even to have been raised by in. What would he have turned out like? He probably wouldn't have ended up as part of Crimson Dreams, but beyond that the entire idea was so foreign he couldn't really speculate very precisely.
(. 411 wordsThe blonde girl set the flowers down, which made sense if she was going to actually respond to his question. She introduced herself, and he noted her name. Noir. Interesting combination of sounds, though he still had some sort of vague misinformed notion that names would match their carrier. After her rushed, excited speech about the flowers, Ares wondered if Noir meant something along the lines of "highly excitable super happy fun girl." If he wasn't already feeling pretty happy, he was completely sure that her good cheer would have been too contagious to resist transforming his mood into something similar. "Your name is pretty, too. Does it mean anything in particular?"
Noir said the flowers would make him even prettier. Which meant that she thought he was pretty. As juvenile and trivial as the word "pretty" would seem to your average wolf, it held especial meaning to Ares. After all, it had been his mother's compliment of choice. Hearing her call him that, then, when all throughout his childhood it had always been about Princess being pretty, and deserving pretty things.. it made a small bud of warmth bloom deep within his chest. He liked this girl, a lot. Of course, he was no where near self-aware enough to have access to why exactly her words had touched him so deeply, but the why really wasn't so much as important as the what.
"I actually do like flowers, very much! And you are most welcome to put them in my hair, if you'd like." His warm voice was teasing, as if being able to decorate his mane was actually some sort of grand and desirable privilege. Ares padded a bit closer, shrinking the gap between the two of them. His gold eyes studied hers; he hadn't ever met anyone with the same brilliant shade of yellow. Sometimes Tokyo would mutter about how they were the same damn eyes as Raphael had had, and how much she hated when Ares looked at her - like Raphael was staring back out at her. His entire childhood was spent being hated for resembling a man he hadn't even met. Ares couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like, to meet his dad. Or even to have been raised by in. What would he have turned out like? He probably wouldn't have ended up as part of Crimson Dreams, but beyond that the entire idea was so foreign he couldn't really speculate very precisely.