May we meet again...!

Sky Rhiannon · 01-06-2011, 02:20 AM

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So this takes place about 6 or so years into the future (so Sky's about 8 Years old here), so about four years after the oh-so-angsty "teardrops" thread. The story basis is that Shawchert would've found his mate, not Sky though (so takes place after the previous RO thread, "teardrops on my guitar" I posted here) so she ended up leaving Cercatori D'Arte on good terms with them all. She'd wanted to see the world, and that's just what she did. She'd left behind a lot of things, but a guitar that had been given to her on one of her birthdays wasn't one of them. She moved around the other Continent, getting used to the higher technology levels there, and eventually she settled in Italy where she made a career of being a well known musician. She grew tired of it quickly, not being the glorious type, and decided to move back to Canada, where she'd look up some old friends, aka, Shaw, Sky, Vali and/or Mars. As such, any of the listed may join, keeping in mind they'd all be much older now. I figured it'd be a fun challenge to do. If no one joins, then fair enough, I'll close it as a read-only. Happy writing, 'Soulsers!

Guitar, oh precious guitar, only lover. Closest friend. She'd moved from place to place for years, miss Sky had, for years. Now, she'd managed to return that a little place so long left behind. She was more than happy to return here, where she'd grown into a woman, where'd she learned to love, and many heartbreaks later, primed woman was stronger. Now, with short-cut hair and fancy Italian accent newly aquired since her last visit here, dressed in the best Italian clothes in the trade, our little songbird had returned.

The old packlands. The place she'd been accepted to. The place that had taught her to sing with her soul, for the soul. Girl was older now, much older. Back then, she'd been a young adult, blooming her talents for the first time, falling in love with a handsome leader and learned to let that love go when he found his family in the fair dove that had blessed the pack with her graceful beauty.

No longer did she fret over such pitiful worries. She was over it. Long over it. Her love for mister Shawchert had been left behind she she'd gone off to explore the worlds. Her ship had sailed far across the ocean and landed her in the oh so advanced European countries. She'd been to France, England and many other places in that first year before settling in Italy, where her talents were praised by many suitors and many, many fans.

In Europe, she was famous. In Italy, a star. They would miss her. She knew she'd have a few more years to live on, and this was where she planned on staying for the rest of her older years. Back in the old packlands of Cercatori D'Arte. And my, how it had changed. With many travelers coming from the higher end parts of the world, technology was a blessing bestowed upon the Northern American continent. It was a lovely sight, to see all those old houses in the town fixed up and primmed, new ones built in places old ruins had been, and many blooming gardens decorated the small town now.

Yes, this was far nicer than she remembered. Yes, this was a beautiful town now. The problem was, though, was this still the welcoming pack of artists she'd come to adore and love with all her might? Or had some other group taken refuge in the small town of Thornbury. No doubt strangers had come to call this place home now... but where was her old band of friends? Skye Collins, Shawchert Manue...? What about Valinta LeStrange and Mars Russo? Were those friendly faces still living here?

What better way to find out. Sky took lively steps into the town, leaving behind the forest. She knew she'd broken a rule by entering without a howl of warning, but she wanted to surprise them, if they were still here. The scent was almost the same, so she figured they must still have been a pack, if not a band of friends still joined together by trust and reliance. Upon reaching the center of the town, where a small fountain had been built, she stopped.

My, my, was she ever different. That same old brown pelt and those same old blue, dazzling eyes, hair still the soft light brown it had been when she left... but instead of the long, wavy locks that so often trailed down her back and shoulders, hiding her face from the world at times, miss Sky had cut it short. Now, it hung in near waves to her jawbone, curling around her face and framing it nicely, showing off her ears, now only sporting two glittering emerald studs in each. Her bodice sported a pretty outfit, a cute top and, something that never had changed, jeans that wavered off at the bottom in boot legs. Various bits of jewelry and accessories also decorated her in silvers and jades, a surprisingly nice contrast to her brown fur and blue eyes.

Enough of that though. Back to the present. Slung over her back was a finely made Acoustic Guitar, made of dark wood, stained a nice shade of dark red with fancy little tribals painted on in glossy black. The strings were a contrasting white, the bridge of the neck lined with silver rods and of course, tuning keys along the sides of the head. Six strings, no more, no less. It made a beautiful sound, one that matched her voice nicely.

Sky hopped up on the foutain's stone edge and turned to face the town, not caring about the occasional glance she got from strangers she didn't know. Swerving the guitar around to her front, and placing her bag, which held a few sacred belongings, at her feet, girl checked the tuning, and without any sort of hesitation after, started to strum a catchy tune.

And then, she began to sing.

"Three little birds,
Sat on my window,
And they told me I don't need to worry...!
Summer came like cinnamon,
So sweet.
Little girls double-dutch on the concrete."

Her beautiful voice hadn't changed much, but now it carried better. With more pride in what she loved to do, Sky had learned to work a crowd, pull heartstrings, and now she'd openly, though modestly, admit to her talents. How could she not, with hundreds of darling fans back in Europe constantly telling her she was so great? Her singing hadn't been the only improvement. Girl could play that guitar nicely now, mastered it, really. It wasn't her old one that the pack had given her, but it was partly made of the same wood, the smooth face of it being a refinished and polished piece of her old one.

"Maybe sometimes,
We've got it wrong,
But it's alright.
The more things seem to change,
The more they stay the same.
Oooh, don't you hesitate...!"

Miss newly Italian Sky broke into the chorus with a flare she hadn't had before, swaying her hips and moving slightly as she played and sang. People had gathered, curious, enjoying her music though unsure of who she was, why she was here. Was any of her old friends in the crowd? If they were, Sky didn't spot them.

"Girl, put your records on,
Tell me your favorite song,
You go ahead, let your hair down
Sapphire and faded jeans,
I hope you get your dreams,
Just go ahead, let your hair down...!

You're gonna find yourself somwhere,
Somehow..."

A few wolves clapped with hesitation, and once that sound would warm her soul, make her happy and proud. Now, it only seemed dull and normal for her. She had hated being in Italy the last few months she had been there. No one loved her, only her music. Only her looks. She was that pretty little vixen with the voice of an angel. She wanted to be known as Sky here, like she had been once before. Would they let her back in?

"Blue as the sky
Sunburnt and lonely, Sipping tea in a bar by the roadside,
Don't you let those other boys,
Fool you,
Gotta love that afro hairdo

Maybe, sometimes,
We feel afraid, but it's alright
The more you stay the same,
The more they seem to change
Don't you think it's strange..?

Girl, put your records on,
Tell me your favorite song
You go ahead, let your hair down
Sapphire and faded jeans,
I hope you get your dreams,
Just go ahead, let your hair down.

You're gonna find yourself somewhere,
Somehow...!"

Onward, to the finale! This part usually got the crowd dancing in the spot, her vocals usually sending chills through them as she sang. She didn't care about that though. Those blue eyes worriedly scanned the scene, looking for a familiar face. Was she just playing for strangers again, or would someone come out and call her name, knowing her for Sky and not the Vixen she'd become.

"'Twas more than I could take,
Pity for pity's sake
Some nights kept me awake,
I thought that I was stronger!
When you gonn' realize
That you don't even have try any longer?
Do what you want to...!"

And here came the vocals they all so adored, and she closed her eyes, instinctively now putting her soul into it, drawing it out like a slow but beautiful torture, one that was addictive and satisfying all at the same time. Her voice had been their drug back in Europe. No doubt it'd be someone's drug here too, now that she'd grown into it so well, and worked it for every drop of shivers that came their way, those poor souls that loved her so.

"Girl, put your records on,
Tell me your favorite song
You go ahead, let your hair down
Sapphire and faded jeans,
I hope you get your dreams,
Just go ahead, let your hair down.

Girl, put your records on,
Tell me your favorite song
You go ahead, let your hair down
Sapphire and faded jeans,
I hope you get your dreams,
Just go ahead, let your hair down.

Oooh, You're gonna find yourself somewhere,
Somehow...!"

A few more chords, and she finished. The usual clapping followed from those around her and she forced that smile, one that few knew was fake. She waved to them, a shy act, and swung the guitar back onto her back. No one I knew showed up... At least, she thought not. She moved to step down from the fountain's edge, kneeling to grab her bag first and sling that too over her shoulder. Standing, she walked along to edge, as the crowd murmured and talked, moving away and back to their daily lives. Would any stay? Would any of them know her name?

_{Corrine Bailey's "Put your records on"}

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