[html] | | Buildings like frozen giants in the still and cold Canadian winter night, this place could be mythical, Poe thought. If not mythical, a freeze-frame of the Titans just before their decent, surely magical. Six months she had lived in this city, and for as mundane as she feared it may have become to her, there were times that it proved differently. When the moon took a stand and the sky sprinkled a light dusting of snow on walks and roofs, and it felt so still, so silent that she could be the only one who had ever walked there, ever disturbed this carpet of snow.
She moved to an internal soundtrack, long steps and a sway of the hips that carried the absurdly grandiose dress she had pulled from a museum's Colonial exhibit. It left a wide path centering small werewolf footprints that rarely struck a straight line, and very often spun and doubled back and forth. But it eventually led to the dark dancer, a mess of improperly arranged human trinkets and gaudy fabric from the hips-down. Her eyes were closed now, her lips closed to the song that churned in her throat, and her arms thrown out like a little girl's, balancing and acting, oblivious to and wrapped up in the concrete winter wonderland.
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sorry for the wait!
Endymion had never worn clothes until that day.
Well, you couldn't necessarily call it a clothing item; it was a simple gray shirt, if even that, made of cheese cloth. The sleeves were snug and the rest was rather loose, especially the neck. It wasn't that much an improvement from the cold, but it was rather comfortable and kept the wind at bay. Despite all of that, he felt sort of silly. Not many people in Jaded Shadows wore clothing, and he feared mockery, so he wandered.
It was odd, for he wouldn't have wandered any other day. Lately he had been anxious and uneasy, worrying for the safety of primarily his brothers and sisters, and secondly the rest of his pack. Yet today, when he awoke and prepared himself to analyze the situation, his mind said, 'No, not today Endy. Best to leave that be for now.' So, he did, wandering away from the beautiful mountain range and to where-ever he so fancied. His fancy now led him to the human city, where he carroused the filthy, empty streets, speculating on their long-gone lives.
He continued walking, thinking of nothing and anything in particular, when his pale sight fell upon a rather odd (albiet lovely) sight. Endymion had never truly been romantically involved with a lady, except for a childish fling here or there. Therefore his skills were quite lacking. However, as I have already stated, today was a strange day for the wolf. A bravado crept into his persona, and a smile formed rather easily on his lips. He drew nearer, his path crossing and mingling with the lady's, until he was just a few paces behind her.
"I've never seen such," came his jesting introduction. What a day, what a night, for the pirate-son.
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[html] | | -sputter- I am so sorry for that wait. My health and inspiration jumped off a cliff.
Ever the oxymoron, Poe was an antiromantic romantic. She could not (or maybe merely would not) claim to have been in love, while she would freely, warmly admit that she had loved many. In this, she knew romance, lust and all the rest very well, entwining herself in them as often as they presented themselves. And with a twirl and a flare, she was presented with a handsome silver stranger, with pure and pale green eyes that slowed her spin and turned her head over her shoulder. There was something exceptional about this man, she decided then and there, in the spur of a split second. A distant familiarity, like she had seen him before in a dream, or a crowded, passing glimpse. They shared something she did believe, but was ignorant of.
She was a ballerina with her curvy hips and legs covered in the long gown, a tiny top set delicately above the swishing fabric. A sugar plum fairy dancing before the nut cracker prince on this cool, crisp night. In beat and tune, the dark dancing girl made her way to the pale boy and opened both hands to him, a silent request for a partner. Her mouth spoke different words, unwilling to make things so simple, too romantic. "And you never will again," she assured him with a pixie grin. "So you'd better follow along."
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that's just fine, my dear!
The wolf gazed on appreciatively as she swayed, mouth curved in a reserved smile. She was a lovely thing, indeed. There was no one like her in either Awenasa or Jaded Shadows, but a similar creature was often seen in Endymion's fleeting dreams.The dark, dancing creature would gaze at him alluringly, beckoning to him from the dark depths of his mind. He would reach out to her, hands grasping but always coming up short. He could never move fast enough to catch the fleet-footed pixie, and she would never wait for him. She would dance on, eventually falling out of sight and leaving Endymion alone and dejected. But, he had a feeling this strange but familiar girl wouldn't dance away from him.
It delighted him to see the embodiment of his fancies before him, reaching out to him as the dancer did in his dreams. His eyes crinkled as he smiled wider, and he took her dark hands in his, the strange bravado still circulating in his veins. He didn't speak, having nothing to say, the curse of a prosaic fool. In a closer proximity, the pirate-son observed her soft face; it was round, almost like a child's, though it was womanly in its own right. Her eyes, like his, were a yellow-spattered green, a quality which was more significant than he gave credit for at the moment. For now, the male smiled and allowed himself to be taken where-ever the graceful darkling wanted him.
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[html] | | Totally powerplaying here--feel free to give me a nudge for an edit. In any case, feel free to do the same. :]
The moment their hands found each other, she fell back in step, carrying on this dream-like night, half believing she saw him through rose-coloured glasses. He offered her no judgement or complaint, only a small smile and a replying look of certainty. Who he was, how they had wound up traipsing down the snowy street of the territory she called home, she didn't care to question. He carried her enchantment, and she danced to a song from overseas, moving to and from him, spinning and turning, but never losing contact with him as the carried on down the street. She was unabashed and had no qualms with indulging herself in the sight of a twirl-flared dress for more turns than her balance could handle, and crashing against his pale belly as a result. A laugh, a grin, she would start back up again with a cleaner stride.
Without any indication towards premeditation, she pulled their bodies off of the road, over a blanketed sidewalk, and into an alleyway. There, a deeply rusted iron fire escape crawled up the side of a four-story building. "Come," she said in the moment she finally released his hand, whipping herself around to the first of many narrow stairs. An impish flash of teeth and a quick poke of a tongue between, she bundled up the front bulk of her dress and began towards the roof.
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it's all good. 
Whatever grace and agility Fatin had blessed him with presented itself now as the two promenaders made their way through the streets of the abandoned city. Though his steps weren't as charming and effortless as the pixie's, he kept up well enough. The music he heard was far different than the tune she beat her feet to, but yet their contrasting steps blended and moved together as if the moment was staged. While her tune was of a more sophisticated design, his took him back to bonfires and moonlight, howling and singing tribal songs depicting the days when wolves only danced on four legs. Though it set his soul on fire, he never stopped letting the dark wolfess lead him to where-ever.
And then they broke away from the street and traversed, still dancing, down an alley. Her alluring command warranted a silent compliance from Endymion. Perhaps if it had been another night he would have taken a moment to consider what he was doing and where the stairs could possibly lead. It, however, wasn't. He waited, mouth curved in an admiring smile, until she was a few steps up the stairs before he followed after her. A rough, woodsy hum suddenly elicited itself from his throat, filling the quiet air with a melody that refused to be supressed.
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[html] | | There are rare times in life, that two strangers might click so well. A connection already formed before they had laid eyes upon the other, it seemed magical for such familiarity to be present in the first minutes. The blood they shared pumped through her heart and dizzied the head that remained unaware of the source of this serendipitous night. On the rooftop she spun in circles, again and again, arms outstretched and eyes on her dress and then closed, indulging in the music her companion made. She was a dancer by spirit, but reckless by body, and it was only a matter of time before her feet got ahead of her and she came crashing down. In a splash of snow and a puff of fabric, she dropped to her side and rolled to her back. Face up and laughing, her eyes finally opened with flustered blinking, trying to stop them from chasing after the constellations that twisted and turned high above her. Her song and dance was over now, and her lungs heaved to catch up, pushing thick puffs of fog into the air, breaking up her view of the night sky.
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