Where the wild roses grow

Alaine Winters · 07-02-2010, 12:57 AM

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table © Alli
ooc: just thought i'd note, if you are curious: Alaine's heritage, or much thereof, is based on old celtish lore etc. she's from great britain :3
hover for translation.

There was something entirely endearing about the way Orin watched her when she spoke. Alaine figured her to be like a living sponge, soaking up each word, storing them away for safekeeping behind her clever hazel eyes. The girl was bewitchingly interesting, with her wild hand gestures and her excitable voice, much to the chagrined pleasure of Alaine's much meeker, timid persona. Perhaps more importantly, Orin seemed to really care about what she was saying. The feeling of importance was one not often besotted by the young healer, and she relished it, in turn dwelling upon each of her companion's sentences like one starved for another's voice.

The pink-haired lady seemed to hardly dwell on her proposal at all; rather, she burst into animated agreement before Alaine had even finished talking. The healer's emerald eyes, innocently round but surprisingly perceptive, noted her friend's deep-flowing interest in the religion she herself preached, and perhaps a longing stirred in her companion for a sense of soul as much as one grew in Alaine for a sense of belonging. True, she had been a member of the Cour des Miracles pack for longer even than Orin, but to the young colliewoman, she was still an outsider - Smaller by size, frailer by build, meeker by nature. Though she could speak their language fluently, or in variances of fluency depending on her concentration, there was still a great feeling of loss, of a misplacement deep beneath her breast. Perhaps, sharing the secrets of her homeland with this curious lady so keen and amiable in her own nature might ease the burden of not belonging.

When Orin clasped her forearm, Alaine in turn grasped her friend's, an uncontrollable smile curving about her maw. It felt, for all the world, as if some sort of weight was gradually being eased off of her fragile shoulders. Oh, the wonders of new friendship!

" Too kind, you are! Much too kind! Blessings on your family, lady Orin, Dia beannaigh!" In her excitement, the young healer lapsed momentarily into her heart-language, the language of her secrets and her past. Instantly contrite, Alaine mentally chided herself, and managed to step back from Orin's one-handed embrace. It would not do to go spitting some different tongue at her - Past experience had taught Alaine that many a wolf did not take kindly to foreigner talk. Regardless, not even her sober past could entirely dull the moment, and the timid colliewoman beamed merrily.

" I would like very much to be your teacher, mo cara, and your pupil. There is no evil that came from knowledge! And if you would have me do this thing, this 'read' and 'write', then I will do so, bless your heart." The birds seemed to sing a little more in tune, the sun to shine a little brighter through the balcony of spines and leaves o'erhead. Maybe it was hope that made her hearken to start this adventure, hope for the acceptance she so deeply craved, or maybe it was merely the want of a good friendship that Alaine had been lacking her whole life. Regardless, her heart sang merrily beneath its cage of ribs, and a youthful smile glinted ivory from her slender muzzle.

" What first? Shall I teach you more of the forest, of the goddess' bounty? What wish you to know first, lady Orin?"

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