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It had been a few days since that night in the old human city, since the night that everything had gone horribly wrong. Even now Jasper couldn't fully remember what had happened inside the old bar, just memories of a warm feeling that he'd never experienced, flashes of a face that he didn't quite recognize. What happened the next morning was much more clear to the de le Poer boy. He could remember the coyote, if only by the thick scent that surrounded him, and he could easily recall the things that the other male had done to him. What made it even worse was that Jasper hadn't even really put up a protest to what was going on. He'd been out of his mind and slowly losing his drunken feeling at that time, but wasn't an excuse. It had happened and Jasper couldn't change it.
Jasper hadn't been sleeping well since that night, often feeling sick to his stomach and fighting away the memories that tried to leak back into his head. At the moment, tired and cold, the blonde male sat against the base of the tree that held his tree house, curled up into a tight ball. His knees were bent and pulled to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. His head buried into them, leaving only a mess of stringy, unkempt hair and two differently colored ears to be seen. His body quaked and shivered as he sat there, sobbing into his fur.
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indent Melisande had never seen a tree house before, but the idea of one was not surprising. It was like something a child might have thought up, but then, also useful and safe from encounters with bears and the like. Except, of course, bears small enough to climb trees. Melis saw this tree house from a distance, and cocked her head at it. She came down a hill and was getting ready to inspect it when she heard a little bit of disheartened sobbing. It wasn't the horrible sort of sobbing, just a light sniffle here and there, and Melisande's heart sunk as she heard it.
indent Sure enough, once she got to the large tree, she went around to the opposite side and saw a blonde male sitting there, sadly crying. She had seen her father cry before, but somehow that was different from this. She looked at him, unsure of what to say. "Hey there... sorry for intruding, I'm Melisande..." An introduction... yeah, that was a good place to start. At least she'd remembered to introduce herself this time. She looked around, as if to make sure that they were alone, and then came a little closer. "What's the matter?" It was very possible that he wouldn't feel like telling her, being a perfect stranger and all, but what was the use if she didn't at least try to help him out?
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His mind had been a complete mess since the day that all of his troubles had started, back when his mother had left. Now, though, it had only been made worse by the newest events in his life, which left the young male feeling broken and alone. In his eyes his life had always been a mess, something that he worried over and thought of almost constantly, but now more things had been heaped onto the pile. There was only so much that one person could take before they broke and Jasper had gone beyond that breaking point. He didn't know how to fix any of it or where to even start, nor did he feel as if he had anyone that he could turn to for help. Not even Rusalki had been able to offer him much advice, though his ghostly friend had been a little off these days.
His sobs were muffled slightly by the fact that his face was buried in his arms but even then he didn't hear her coming. A voice came suddenly, catching words in his ears, and it startled the blonde male. He didn't look up though, only buried his head farther into his arms. Melisande, she said her name was. Jasper couldn't ever really recall hearing the name before, but the few scents that he could pick out of the air told him that she wasn't a stranger to this place. "Too much.." He answered her finally after a short pause of hesitation, a hitch in his breath as the words tumbled from his muzzle.
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I suck. 
indent Melisande sat down next to the male, and sighed. She wasn't sighing out of aggravation or any other sort of annoyance, but a sense of understanding. Everyone had felt like this boy looked at one time or another, and yet, she couldn't remember the last time she had all out cried. Then, just as she thought that, it came back to her, so long ago, when she cried and threw herself into a grave, with the body of her beloved grandmother. Her father had pulled her away, he'd been the only one who cared, and yet, he still didn't care enough to stick around.
indent "There's always something, huh." At first, that was all she could think of to say. But then again, she shook her head at herself as soon as it came out of her mouth. That wouldn't help, saying negative things like that. She thought for a moment, and wondered what she would want others to say to her when she was sad. "You aren't alone, though. You don't have to talk about it, whatever it is, but I know sometimes its nice not to be alone." It sounded a little idiotic, and a bit like she was talking to herself, but she wasn't sure what to do, and figured she might as well try whatever she could to make the fellow feel better.
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