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The blonde de le Poer boy stumbled to the river in the early morning, tripping here and there as he went along. The sun was barely peeking out from behind the horizon, the sky a large array of reds and yellows, but despite the lack of bright sunlight, Jasper still squinted. His face was puffy, slightly swollen around his cheeks, and eyelids sagged low from lack of sleep. He rubbed at one of them idly with a hand, paying little mind to the hair that covered it and thus also went into his eye as he rubbed. Finally, after shuffling forward a few more steps, he came to the side of the icy river, plopping himself down at it's side without much care at all.
Curling his legs in toward his body, the sandy male leaned forward, blinking tiredly. One hand dropped toward the surface of the water, to scoop it up, but just as it was about to plunge beneath the surface he stopped. He blinked once, twice, and the third time that his eyes closed and reopened, tears streamed out. His breath hitched suddenly, catching in his throat, and he choked out a sob. He jerked his hand away from the water, spinning himself away from facing it, and buried his face into his hands to cry. He couldn't even look at himself.
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[html] It had been a startling noise that had caught his attention. Cael, who had lived among animals unable to assume human-like characteristics, was ignorant of several concepts. Crying was one of them. Laughter was another, though he had learned from ravens what that was. It sounded as though something might be strangling, and that was what drove him towards it. Had the animal been a rabbit or a pheasant, he might have found breakfast. Instead, he was greeted by a black and tan fellow with his face in his hands (though Cael did not know that word), bent over and sobbing.
Head low, he approached, black feet silent over the cold grass and dirt. Finally, perturbed by the sound, he spoke. “Hey, somethin’ wrong with you?” [/html]
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The past few days it didn't seem like Jasper could do much of anything without crying. He couldn't eat, couldn't just walk around, and he certainly couldn't lay down and sleep without bursting out in tears suddenly. That night in the city was still nothing more than a large blur, one that he wished would just clear itself up so he could finally know. The morning after that was easier to remember and the things that played out in his head were frightening. Even more frightening was the fact that he didn't know who the coyote was at all. Who all knew? Who had seen or who had the coyote told? Could he even be sure that it was a coyote at all?
Normally Jasper would have been easily startled by the words from someone else out of nowhere. He would've done anything that he could to make sure that they didn't see him cry, but even after the voice came he only sobbed harder. Broken and hoarse, he answered, not even bothering to lift his head and see who it was. "What isn't wrong with me?" His words only caused him to sob louder, grabbing at the unkempt strands of hair that fell down from his head with his fingers, tugging on the without remorse.
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[html] Remorse was something Cael had never truly felt. He had never experience a turbulent force greater then a winter blizzard or a summer storm. He had never bound himself to people enough to be affected by how they felt or what happened with them. Death was a natural occurrence and it did not trouble him to think his parents were dead or his siblings might be dead. Things like that happened every day. It was perhaps ignorance to this state that caused his interest, though seeing such unveiled emotions did strike something because they were so unnatural to him.
Advancing, the fox came to the side of the boy. His muscles were electricity and if this emotion caused violence, he would run. Self preservation above all was his creed. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “You aren’t dead,” he added, as if this was the most terrible thing in the world. Though high speech (Cael did not know it as such, of course) was not his first tongue, he had learned it through a raven and managed to grasp it will eloquence (in most respects). “You aren’t hurt, are you?” [/html]
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"I wish I was.." He groaned, a clashing sound of sobs and pain, tugging harder at the strands of hair that he'd managed to grab previously. If he was dead then he wouldn't have had a chance to be so stupid a few nights before. He wouldn't have been given a chance to try drinking that burning crap like he should have known better than to do in the first place. Or even better. Much like an angsty teenager, if he simply hadn't been born he wouldn't have had the chance to be such a fuck up. His mother would still be with his father, their family would be together. Everything would've been so much better if he just hadn't been born.
"Yes!" He wailed into his hands, slightly muffled as it came out. If what he'd been feeling those past few days wasn't pain then he didn't want to know what pain was. What Jasper didn't know was that the much smaller creature had likely meant hurt in the physical sense, nor did he really care either, all he knew was that it hurt and he couldn't think of anything to make it better.
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[html] The noise was terrible. That sick inhale and exhale that made him think of a rabbit caught in a snare. It was a buzzing in his skull, a buzzing not uncommon to the time he had gotten cut on a fence and felt like there were wasps in his head. That he could ignore, but this he could not. The thought to walk away never occurred to him. This was just far too interesting. At the initial response the fox frowned, puzzled. He saw no open wounds and did not smell disease or blood. Then, as the boy continued to wail, Cael decided that the noise had to stop.
As fast as a snake, his triangular head and fine teeth shot out. They clamped down on the hand closest to his position, and as quickly as he struck the fox had jumped back. He had seen these creatures before, and knew they were far more capable of damaging him then visa versa. [/html]
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It was likely that Jasper would have sat there and cried for hours had he been allowed to. There was honestly nothing more for him to do, nothing more that he was able to do. He was still in the middle of sobbing and tugging at his hair when the sharp pain hit his hand. "Hey!" He shouted suddenly, jerking to attention. Instantly he released the hair, jerking his hand up and toward his face, using the other hand to rub at it as he examined it. Jasper frowned, then pouted, quivering still from the sobs that had previously taken him over. They were small marks, barely seen through the fur on his hand, and the blonde boy rubbed at them furiously, trying to make the pain go away.
It was only then that his eyes turned, seeking out the stranger who had bitten him. Much to his surprise, the creature was not at all what he was expecting. "Wha.." He started, forcing himself to stop as a confused sort of look took over his features. "What are you?" He asked finally, nose wrinkled in confusion, continuing to rub furiously at his hand.
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[html] Both ears were forward, both eyes on the boy. If he made a move, Cael would have been gone. Instead, he remained standing where he was, only at eye level due to the boy’s position on the ground. “I’m a fox,” he stated. After a moment of debate, he settled onto his haunches, bushy tail wrapping around his side. “What were you doing?” The concept of crying was such a foreign thing that he didn’t even have a word for it. [/html]
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Jasper eyed the creature, watching him and examining him. He sniffled then, accepting the declaration of what exactly he was. A fox, he'd heard of them before, perhaps even read about them somewhere, but he couldn't recall ever seeing one. "I was crying." He answered then, frowning and still recovering from the tremble of sobs. "Why did you bite me?" He was still shocked about it, though it didn't seem as any harm was done, he just didn't understand why.
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[html] Foxes were curious creatures. They populated cities during the reign of man, found homes in the outskirts of cities. Cael had a fine idea of exactly how many foxes lived in this area, though he would not distribute said information. There was a quiet unwritten rule about those sorts of things. After all, they did not look unique to the larger predators—who was to say they would not work together for a common goal and use that to their advantage?
Cael formed the word ‘crying’ with his mouth but did not speak it aloud. Not until he was asked to explain himself. “That…crying…I didn’t like the sound. You sounded like breakfast,” he added, though his tone indicated this was a joke. “You were doing that because you’re hurt, right? You don’t seem injured.” [/html]
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The look on his face as he stared at the fox wasn't quite an angry look, more hurt than anything else, that he would just come up and bite him like that. Why dwell on it, though? He'd probably done something to deserve it anyways, even if he didn't know it. Brows furrowed a bit, watching the thing as his mouth moved and yet nothing came out, at least not until a moment later. "Breakfast?" He asked, obviously confused. If his breakfast sounded like crying, Jasper didn't want to know what he ate.
"Cause you can't see where it hurts." He frowned then, dropping both hands into lap for a moment. "It's not outside my body, it's inside." He didn't really know how to explain and those words could hold so many different meanings. Unfortunately, they meant a few. "Like if something you really liked went away, you'd hurt inside." He hoped that explained a little better.
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[html] The muscles in a foxes face were not as well built as those in other canines. Cael was unable to bare his teeth or really snarl, though he was able to tweak the corners of his mouth. That was how he frowned as the boy tried to explain what the hurt he felt was, and asked him about what he had said. “You sounded like you were choking,” he tried to explain. It hadn’t been a pleasant sound.
Shrugging one shoulder, he continued. “I don’t really like anything enough to care if it left. What did you lose?” [/html]
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He supposed the fox's description of his sound could have been correct. Jasper hadn't ever really stopped to listen to himself cry, or anyone else for that matter. With that cleared up, Jasper returned his full attentions to the fox, curious of the words that he spoke then. "Not even your family?" He asked then, finding it just a bit surprising that he didn't even care about his family. Of course, had he given it any thought, he wouldn't have been to surprised. His family likely didn't care that they had lost track of him some time ago. "A lot." He paused a moment, frowning. "My mom left, my dad hates me. My brothers and sisters don't want anything to do with me..so it hurts."
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[html] “My parents left when I was young, and I haven’t seen my siblings since then, so I don’t really know them.” It sounded blunt and perhaps cruel, but Cael’s tone was often lost in his delivery. High speech was difficult when he rarely used it, making his words often broken and somewhat incorrectly pronounced. He spoke slowly to avoid this issue as much as he could, however. “Isn’t it normal for parents to leave? That’s how it is for us. Why do your siblings hate you?” [/html]
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In a way, it made sense. If Jasper hadn't been around his family to get to know them then it was likely that he wouldn't be so upset about the fact that they weren't around. He'd spent months and months with them though, had grown comfortable around them and was used to having them there. "I don't think it's supposed to be that way for us." He commented then, wondering. Most of the wolves he'd seen in Europe had families, even a lot of the ones here, and if not immediately with them they were somewhere close by. "It's my fault our mom left..." He trailed off a moment, sighing. "My parents got in a fight because of something that I did and then my mom just left.." Left and didn't even say goodbye.
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