a new chapter (for both of us)

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Theodoric Martin Three Years Old Luperci Kim1014@aol.com AIM @ Kim1014 I am Morface? Love me! <3 When Theodoric Martin clambered awkwardly aboard the sturdy-looking vessel that would eventually carry him across the sea, he knew full well that this impulse-of-the-moment decision would probably haunt him later. He was usually a think-before-you-act type, but leaving home had begun to push him into a live-by-your-whims lifestyle that was more common to his age group. What he expected when he landed, Theo wasn’t sure. The boat would carry him far from anything like he’d ever known, and once the landed, he felt as if he’d traveled back several hundred years rather than across an ocean full of empty, rolling miles. Certainly, he hadn’t been expecting that, for he had always assumed the tales of ‘savages’ to be embellishments of the bards and nothing more. Accustomed to the dirty but ordered European life, the North American landscapes were completely foreign. He quickly realized that life here centered less around prospering and more around surviving. The pony laden with the tools of his trade that he’d brought along was, in the view of most locals, useless for everything except the main course at dinner time. Theo also realized that his life and training growing up left him completely unprepared to defend for himself. Oh, he could hunt if need demanded and survive a few nights out on his own in the wild, but the thought of living in such a manner for months on end turned his stomach unpleasantly. And since returning home so soon was completely out of the question, finding a pack to take pity on him, at least temporarily, would be of the highest priority. So Theodoric began to ask questions and the answers sent him north along the coast, to the vicinity of the old concrete jungle where it was said the wolves and weres were more accepting than many places, and if nothing else, they wouldn’t kill him or his equine on first sight. By mid-October the young weaver was footsore and weary of wild living, but he also took his first steps on the ‘souls landscape. He liked it immediately. It had the look of a prosperous place now gone slightly shabby, but still pulsing with a vibrant life. Full of promise and, he thought, rather like himself. The crest of the Ashen Mountain, along with the stars at night, had been one of his guides for some days now, and it was there he decided to first try his luck. Why any pack could be induced into accepting a dusty, grey-furred wandered clad in shabby traveling clothes, he could only wonder. Still, Theo knew he had to try -that, or return home in defeat. So he ended up having to half-drag the stubborn pony to the no-mans-land of the borders, nearly losing a valuable roll of raw wool in the process. Chastising the creature lightly, Theo settled in for a wait.

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OMGZ we dont want any kimfaces! *lies!*


She almost felt like letting Tayui handle the stranger. His scent wafted it's way from her perch just inside the borders like some fresh, sweet pie sitting out on a windowsill. Fatin was drawn out from her place though, was the scent of a horse. She had traveled down past Chimera a few times and the scent of the horses there had intrigued her drastically. She smiled softly to herself, drawing the shawl around her shoulders as had become a habit in the colder weather. She was made for temperate, warmer climates. The woman approached him calmly on two legs, the golden colored shawl reflecting her amber russet pelt in a beautiful, almost enchanting fashion.

"You look like you belong somewhere else....we had some Russian pirates show up a few years back - did you just miss their boat?" It was said with a grin as a tease, she wasn't being mean with her statement. No one could feel like she was being mean, not with her happy, welcoming tones. She wanted to reached out and touch the horse, but until she was given permission, or at least properly introduced, she wouldn't do anything at all. "I'm Fatin Kali, one of the two Alpha's here." She finally added, not wanting to be rude.

-giggle!- Patience was one of the first lessons Theo's family had pressed upon him. A weaver had to be, for the hours in front of a loom could drag on, and then be spoiled by one move hastily or carelessly made. Sometimes, the young male thought this patience aged him before his time. Today however, he was grateful for it, because it kept him sane while nerves threatened to overwhelm him. He'd never had to present himself for inspection at the borderlands before, and was only half sure how it was done. Desperate for a distraction, he began to inspect the clothes he wore, all the while keeping ears pealed for any significant sound. He'd missed a patch of mud on his leather leggings, which he attempted in vain to rub out. The belt at his waist supported a small sheathed knife and a couple of miscellaneous hip-pouches decorated in the celtic style, which he proceeded to re-arrange unnecessarily. Theodoric's grey chest was bare, except for the straps of his rather large backpack and the clasp for his traveling cloak. He stretched his shoulder muscles carefully, making sure he still had decent mobility, should worse come to worse. The russet female appeared shortly thereafter, and Theo liked her almost immediately. First of all, she was shifted, which was a relief, and secondly, the shawl around her shoulders was a familiar piece of civilization, so far from home. She at least a couple of years his senior, but still - he couldn't help but notice - quite attractive. Her words puzzled him though, and for a moment, the three-year-old gave her a rather blank stare as he desperately sought to recollect those half-hearted lessons as a beanpole youth. "Russia?" he finally queried, with a small frown, "No, Russia is far east to us, several months' travel on foot, I believe. I did just get off of a ship a few weeks ago, but we sailed from Northern Britain, Scotland, if you will." Theodoric replied rather awkwardly, unsure if his facts were completely straight. Like so many in his social situation, he was the product of poor schooling; not stupidity. She was alpha here. A leader, matriarch, much like home; only hopefully not with the vicious temperament of his great-aunt. He bowed at her introduction, keeping his hands at his sides, less their shaking reveal his insecurity. "My name's Theodoric Martin, ma'am, but I prefer to go by Theo, if you will." He faltered for a moment at the repetition, but then took a deep breath and spoke again, knowing that it would be in his favor to act much more confident than he felt. "I'm hoping you can help me, ma'am. Is your pack accepting? 'Cause I ne -- I'm looking for a place to stay, if you'll have me." He hoped he didn't look as hopeful and youthful and foolish as he felt. Though careful to maintain a respectful posture, he watched her carefully for a reaction. The pony, cooperative for once in his life, stood unnoticed at Theo's side - he was a beast of burden in the weaver's eyes, not a pampered pet.

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[Tayui Aston]

Ooc'ily accepted yo.