table © Alaine
ooc: WAH. Long wait. <<
WC: 600+
Sylvie flitted about downstairs in the creaky, dilapidated old building, claws clicking on the rough wooden floors while fingers ruffled their way into untamed mane. What was she going to do? The cupboards had thusfar yielded little, and the half-destroyed cooling apparatus, a refrigerator, she thought it was once called, held but a few morsels of food. Sighing a bit, ivory fingers untangled themselves from silky lilac fur, hanging at the curve of slender hips while alabaster maw rose to the air above her. A vast sigh escaped the frustrated yearling as she checked one, last cabinet... Eureka! A few strips of cured, dried deer-meat, some small fish-cakes... not as much as the collie babe had hoped to find in the usually multi-inhabited Chien hotel, but it was certainly better than nothing at all. Picking at the bits of food, violet eyes warily selected the most delectable of the various kinds of sustenance, snowy touch grasping a single fish cake, four strips of deer-meat. These were placed upon a piece of carved wood, likely once a decorative plate, as a method of bringing the things up to the now fading Apothecary.
Sylvie sighed a moment as she reached the lobby once more, foodstuffs in hand. Oh Alaine... what had reduced the once snappish bitch into a weak little whelp? Sylvie wracked her mind for anything, anything at all, that could possibly be the reason for such a drastic change... and happened once more upon her leave of this place, this warm, loving atmosphere that had brought her back from the brink. If she had never left, never strayed from the borders of the Cour Des Miracles pack lands... would Alaine still be intact? Would Caillen never have left his mother to the darkened, bruised depths of her own mind? Sylvie had known it from the moment she coherently saw the cream collie shea- something had happened, a long, long time ago, and resulted in more emotional trauma than a lovely young lady such as she should ever have faced.
But then again, Sylvie could easily say something similar about herself. Perhaps that was why they connected as they had- both had suffered immense, painful, horrific experiences that they never meant to bring upon themselves... and perhaps, this was also the reason Caillen had finally left. Memories flooded back to the moon-spun fae as vibrant wine-colored eyes dropped to the floor gracefully arched feet stood upon. Her dear cobalt knight... a gentle giant with an impossible quest, a dream farther out of reach than even Sylvie would admit. His wish to protect the women in his life from anything that could happen to them... it was impossible.
Especially now.
Now... Alaine and Sylvie had far more trauma in common than before. Clearing her thoughts of that terrible memory, Sylvie padded her way back up the stairs, peeking once again into the dark, quiet room where her guardian, her sentinel, that once beautiful valkyrie that liberated a dying whelp from the grasp of hell, sat so very silently, deadened eyes staring at nothing. "Alaine...? I've brought you something to eat..." She began, approaching so as to not startle the elder collie fae. She seemed to frown as she brought the plate over to her foster mother, taking a seat beside her before offering the plate up. "Eat up. You'll need it to bring back your strength. Honestly mother, you can't live off darkness and dirt. You're not a mushroom." A slight smile settled across slim fairy maw while slender hands awaited the acceptance of the food. They did indeed have much more in common than either knew.
Speak think walk
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