[m]Tonight we drink to youth

Orin Takekuro · 11-21-2011, 10:29 PM

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Per our convo in chat, this is dated the 20th. Thank you! I should have said something sooner. 700+

The howl rang out and sounded the visitor's presence, the tune pricking Orin's ears the moment it filled the lands. Her white ears swiveled toward the sound before any of the rest of her acknowledged the call, but just a moment after she turned her head to peer over her shoulder. She had finished all her chores for that day long ago, and thankfully had cleaned up and changed from her tan cloak that she used to wear when she lived in Cour des Miracles (that she now only used when she needed extra warmth while cleaning the stables) to her more gilded pink fur cloak that she had found on her last trip to the court. She had no idea that Mars, or Bart, or both, would be visiting her today. The man had a mind of his own... well, several minds of his own... and his actions were never predictable. Maybe that's what she liked about him.

She still had no idea what she had done wrong, either, only that Mars had been rather unwelcoming the last two times she'd haphazardly run into him in Crimson Dreams. She was elated to have found her old friend, but he was less than happy to see her, it seemed. They never had the moment to broach what was wrong, and Orin, being Orin, only slightly realized anything was wrong with the moody Russo anyway.

She stood up on the porch of the old seamstress's house, brushing a cat off her lap as she did so. Vernie was inside today and Orin hadn't bothered the old nut bag, but she still liked to visit the kitties sometimes. A glance at her cloak proffered a lap of fur and she blanched – a funny thing for a tundra wolf to be worried about, fur on her clothes – and tried to brush it off. The velour cloak was too receptive of the fur, though, and her efforts were in vain. Oh well, Mars was waiting, and she couldn't keep him. No, that bastard would turn right around and leave if she took too long.

In a fluid move she was off the steps and jogging toward the woods, her ears reminding her where the call had come from, and expertly following it. If it had been a scent she'd have been lost long ago, but she was quite good at tracking sounds, even if they resonated in the area. As she walked she wondered why he was here, the leather armor she had ordered almost out of her mind by now. Of course, for such a custom item it hadn't actually taken that long, but since then there had been children to ground and a wedding to plan, so it had been lost in the hubbub until she heard his howl.

A few snappy, short yips came from the girl to let the Russo man know she was coming. She didn't want him to grow impatient and leave her. By the morose sound of his call he wasn't in the best of spirits – something that bothered Orin, like an inconvenience – and she didn't doubt he was feeling a bit impatient right now.

Not long after her brusque call, the pink of her cloak was visible through the brush, and soon she was out of the forest entirely and walking toward Mars. Who cares if he seemed remorseful when he called? She was still happy to see him. A wide smile on her countenance, she closed the last few feet between them at a jog. “Mars! You came to visit!” She said excitedly as she came up to Vox's side, setting her hand on the stallion's neck – the motion opening her cloak to reveal her body – the fur now growing extra-fluffy again as it always did in winter. “I'm so glad you're here, there's so much to tell you. To show you. You gotta meet Soraya.” The brown cow was her pride and joy – just below her daughters, anyway – the woman was slightly surprised that she was as successful at caring for the cow as she was, and wanted to show her off to all of her friends.

“Come on,” she set her hand on Vox's reign, about to guide the horse if he and the master would follow. “What are you doing standing here? You've got an open invitation into d'Arte any time you want, from me.”

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