Decisions

Orin Takekuro · 11-17-2010, 07:50 PM

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OOC I have been eagerly awaiting the day that Orin gets to meet Ouija. =D WC 806
7 + 10 = 17 points

It seemed like she had just arrived in her new pack lands, and already a meeting. How exhilarating! Orin’s ears twitched when she heard the very familiar howl that beckoned all nearby members to the gathering, and that incessant smile spread wide across her muzzle as brilliantly as always. This was the perfect opportunity to introduce herself to her new brethren - the people who carried the same torch for artistry that had always made her feel like such an outcast. She had been lounging when the call came, sunbathing with her ivory back prone to the warming rays that shone down upon her. She knew this was the same sun she had always known – the same orb that illuminated her life, even when it felt dark and bleak as she grew up in Florida, and confusing and frightening and thrilling when she arrived in Nova Scotia. But despite it being the same life-giving star, it felt different here underneath the Cercatori d’Arte sky. Like it was brighter… warmer… and its intensity only grew when she heard the summoning call of her alpha.

She was unaware of her napping until her eyes flew open and protested as they adjusted again to the sunlight. She was so at peace here that she had dozed off in the middle of this clearing, alone and in the open, but under the soothing balm of her pack’s protection. Surely it was not an uncommon thing for Orin to dream, but usually her mind did not quiet long enough to let her spring asleep – rarely even for bed, and certainly never for a nap.

Yawning, she rolled onto her back and sat up. She looked down at her hands for a moment, perplexed - she was certain she had laid down in this clearing with paws – but she soon shrugged it off and stood up. The last several days had been passed as a wolf thanks to her sprained ankle, but now a gentle test proved that most of the pain was gone and her Optime form was back in tip-top shape. Pleased at this revelation, she nodded as she brushed leaves and flora from her fur.

“Okay, now to find the pack,” she turned in the direction the call had come from, but paused. A few minutes had passed while she checked her condition, and she wasn’t certain if this was the right way to the gathering or not. “Damn, I wish he’d call one more time.” She huffed softly, then hurried off to where she thought the pack was.

---

Her original path had in fact been incorrect, and Orin soon found herself wandering in a wide circle until she looped back to the same clearing she’d been napping in. When she tried again, she veered off a little eastward, and this time soon found herself treading near the sound of discussion. Her enthusiasm returned when she recognized the voice to be Shawchert’s own, and she crossed the rest of the ground at a sprint, arriving on scene in a burst of bouncing pink-and-white fluff.

“Shawchert!” she cried as she waved and bounded up to the gathered members. “I’m sorry I’m late. I’m not fully acquainted with the land yet.”

She gave a sheepish grin as she gazed up into the tall man’s eyes, gave him a quick hug without warning, then turned to the two others who had been speaking with him. She gave an elegant wave of her fingers, beaming a toothy smile to them all.

“Hi, I’m Orin!” Upon first glance, and especially when standing next to the massive leader, the tiny wolfess appeared to be little more than some teenaged Luperci. Though on further inspection it became clear, namely from her exaggerated curves, that the petite girl was in fact a woman in her early adulthood.

It didn’t take long for her eyes to spring upon Ouija and light up with interest. She took no effort to hide her awe as her golden eyes examined the colorful wolf, peering intently at the splashes of coloration on his fur. At first her eyes and mouth were matching O-shapes, and then she was drawn into a huge grin and childlike giggle as she dashed over to Ouija. Forgetting that others have this peculiar idea of something called “personal space,” she laid delicate fingers around his arm and grinned into his face.

“Oh, my, GOD! What do you use?!” One sniff and she knew the coloring on his fur was blood, or blood-based, but she still let the question hang to be answered by the man, forgetting that the pack was gathered here with an agenda in mind. “I can’t believe this! I’ve never met anyone else who colors their fur. You’re beautiful! How long have you been doing this? Why? What are you doing to that stick?”

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