i can't escape the twisted way you think of me

Scorpius D'Angelo · 01-02-2011, 09:45 PM

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WC 528

It had been a long time since the chastised pup had dared to wander outside of the cavernous realms in which his pack resided. Weeks ago he committed a grave offense against his mother and his pack when his curiosity bettered him and drove his paws long and far away from the safety of the den. Not only just from the safety of the den, but away from the safety of the pack lands. With few other pups in the newly formed pack to play with, the coal child grew bored quickly, and on that day chewing Juju’s tail had not been enough to satisfy his itchy paws. He ran off, completely unaware that he had even left his mother’s territory until hours and miles later. Until he had grown tired and cold and hungry and, worst of all, had peed on so many interesting things that he thought he would shrivel up into a raisin. Yet that had not been the end of his adventure that day. Already far from the boundaries of Anathema, Scorpius had met another puppy, a little russet colored Dahlian girl with strange forepaws and a speech impediment. The couple played until nightfall, and when Scorpius could not find his way home, he followed the girl back to Dahlia De Mai.

Of course, had not taken long for Naniko to discover that her pup was missing, and come after him. Childish as he was, he had left a trail the entire way, and it was easy for his adept mother to track him down in Dahlia. Scorpius had never disobeyed her like that, and after the chastising and punishment of that day, it was likely that he never would violate her rules again.

The pup moped. He moped for weeks because he had let his mother down. She had been working hard with the formation of Anathema, and he wandered away from her and his new pack. Certainly, he meant no offense and was too young to understand the dangers he had put himself in at the time, but he did understand what he did after. Ever since, he spent his days trying to show Naniko that he was a good boy, and striving to get his brother, Harlowe, to like him. When Naniko was not around, he would trail after Harlowe, on his tail day and night. And when Naniko was around, Harlowe would trail after her, and Scorpius would trail after both, wagging his little tail, trying to instigate play, and pretending he understood the politics of the pack.

Today, though, his brother had given him the slip. Scorpius had slept in, Naniko was gone when he awoke, so the first thing he did was head off to search for his brother. He sniffed around the vein like caves, trying to detect the scent of his brother, but any trace he found was either old or muddled, and his inexperienced nose could not yet indicate which trails might have been fresh. Yet diligently he pressed on, wandering the caverns of Anathema, rounding a cave bend and yipping a cry every now and then hoping that his adult brother would turn up.

Fiachra Gervase · 01-02-2011, 11:49 PM

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SSWM: 319

Days passed like any other day. Fiachra passed the time sewing or crafting, setting up her new home. She had claimed a little area in the caves as her own, a place others scarcely went. The privacy was refreshing. She had just finished crafting a small wooden table, and was working on a stool to match. The greyish tone of the wood accented the caves nicely, and she was proud of her work. Slowly, with a chisel from her bag, she turned a log into a stool. It wasn't hard work, but it was tedious. She enjoyed it, however. No sound came except for that of metal on wood, and she smiled vaguely as she worked. This must be bliss., or something dangerously close.

The next thing she knew, the stool was done. She swept up the shavings with a small broom made of thin sticks, a leather strip tying them securely together with another, wider stick. She put the shavings in a leather bag near the door to go outside and dump. That's when she heard it. Faint yipping, a puppy's cry. She shrugged her coat on over her shirt, brushed her jeans off briskly, and set off from her little home to find the source. Puppies were her weakness; she adored them and couldn't stand the sound that this one was making, so sad and pitiful and searching. She was about to round a corner when she found him.. or more likely, nearly trampled him.

He was a little black pup, with eyes like Itachi's. She tilted her head at him, her eyes taking in the image. "Hello," she said, when satisfied that he was neither trespassing nor lost. "Are you looking for someone?" she asked quietly, her tone careful. This pup's scent was awfully strong to be a subordinate. He must be someone special. She just wasn't sure who yet. But she would surely find out.

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Scorpius D'Angelo · 01-04-2011, 03:53 AM

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Sorry for slowness... Had computer drama. All better now. Smile wc 393

The coal pup had been so preoccupied in his search that he failed to notice anything behind him, and that was when he found himself nearly squished! He had rounded one corner and, not discovering Harlowe's scent anywhere nearby, spun around and was about to double back when the woman popped out of nowhere. He yipped and leaped back, a pang of shock surging through him as he realized in that split second just how close he had come to being accidentally kicked or stepped on. As a pup unable to change yet, and with a pelt as dark as night that blended into the shadows of the caverns, he had to be careful about ending up underfoot of his Optime counterparts. Some day he, too, would be able to transform his shape. But until then, being a little pup was sometimes a dangerous thing.

His deep, crimson eyes stared up at the woman, at first in shock, then in mischief as he considered biting her toes off, and then with curiosity once he nixed that idea. He cocked his head to the side and in another beat his maw parted and he gave that silly Scorpius grin. He looked a little goofy, still quite feral in his youth. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, and he gaped at the woman like a true wolf pup, untainted by the hardships of age.

His ears perked and his tail, that had only been curled under for a brief moment when he thought he was going to be crushed, raised and swished to and fro. Sure, this was not as good as finding Harlowe to pester, but it sure beat being alone. “Hey!” He chirped happily. “Yeah, I'm looking for my brother Harlowe.” He huffed, exasperated, and then glanced around as though Harlowe would round the corner at the mention of his name. “I dunno where he went.”

He lowered his head for a moment, saddened that he could not find his brother, but soon his eyes jerked back to the woman's gray face and his tongue lolled again. “Where did you come from? I haven't seen you before.” He took a step closer to her. There was no timidness in his posture of his steps as he stretched his muzzle towards her, clearly testing and memorizing the woman's scent.

Fiachra Gervase · 01-04-2011, 05:51 AM

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S'cool. SSWM: 196

Ah, youth. Fiachra had a soft spot for pups, sure, but this one was energetic beyond belief and extremely.. well, pup-like. She smiled down at him gently, her head tilted to one side, waiting for the torrent of speech to end. Goodness, so much information from such a little guy. Where did his lungs find the air? She took everything in. Harlowe was this boy's brother's name, but what was his name? Clearly, it was an older brother, because he wouldn't have one any younger, and littermates, in Fiachra's experience, stuck together. She was still trying to piece together who this pup was when he asked her a question.

She hastened an answer, keeping her tone casual. "Naniko just accepted me recently," she said, her voice soft and calm. "I came from northeast of this place, past the burnt lands on the other side." Then she smiled. "I will help you find your brother, if you would like. What's your name?" She was pretty good with pups, even if they did drive her a bit batty at times. If she found this one's brother, he would be happy. From the looks, however, the brother would not.

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Scorpius D'Angelo · 01-06-2011, 01:05 AM

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OOC Gah! I just noticed I've been spelling Fiachra's name totally wrong. X.x Sorry! WC 269

Though he was already lively and pleasant, the pup perked up to attention at the name 'Naniko'. It was like Fichara had said a magic word and the pup's ears twitched and his eyes burned with a loving vigor. His tail whipped to and fro nearly beating his own sides and he shuffled on his forepaws. "That's my momma!" He boasted, his little chest puffing out with pride. If his mother personally accepted this woman into the pack then she must be something. His eyes scanned the woman as though he could also take in what was so special about her, and though he was able to make no conclusions he still approved of what he saw. They were pack now. Perhaps later the pup would grow into a creature that was quicker at passing judgments, but for now anyone who was pack was in his good graces.

"The burnt lands?" The boy cocked his head again, his mouth making a little O as he stared at Fichara with interest. He knew little about what she talked about but had heard mention of the great burn in passing. It was more like a fairy tale to the pup than anything, and it sent his imagination reeling. “Wow, what was that like?”

He closed in another step and his quick nose caught the faint scent of wood shavings. He wondered why she would smell like wood, especially down here in the Anathema caves. Perhaps she had just collected some for the fires?

“Oh yeah, my name is Scorpius D'Angelo. What's yours? And why do you smell like wood?”

Fiachra Gervase · 01-06-2011, 02:18 AM

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It's all right, dear, not the easiest name ever. Tongue SSWM: 298.

Naniko's own son?! Dear God. Of course he seemed special, then. The pup seemed to accept her without question - or, without too many questions, anyhow. There were a good few of them, but they weren't critical. The little guy was too young to be as hypocritical and judgmental as others could be. She smiled at him gently and began to answer his questions. "The burnt lands are terrible. I do not know what happened there, but they are not a good place for anyone. The lands I come from are nice, though. Not burnt at all." She laughed and remembered home briefly, before her jaw tightened and her mind rebelled. 'Not home,' she reminded herself. 'That's not home anymore.'

And it wasn't. Fiachra had made a decision when she left home, and she wasn't one to go back on her promises, even ones to herself. She swore to herself, after what happened to her, that she could never return to where she had come from, for it would break her parents' hearts to see her the way that she was now, so changed, so broken. And it might break her own heart for them to try to heal her, try to fix her, to bandage the wounds left so deep from so much agony, so much hatred. They could not fix her. They could do no good, and she could do only harm unto them. And of course, she had something good going here. She wanted to stay.

The next set of questions came easily in terms of answers. Her own name, for instance. "I'm Fiachra Gervase," she answered comfortably. "However, you may call me Fia." Then she added, "I just carved a table and a stool," she replied. Would you like to see them?"

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Scorpius D'Angelo · 01-07-2011, 05:02 AM

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OOC here: If you need to do a little PP in your next post that's fine. WC 608

The pup's tail waggled delightedly as Fiarchra told him about the burned lands. There was something about it that was terribly intriguing to his young mind. Thanks to the campfires and cave fires that the pack occasionally lit and maintained, he was familiar with the flame as well as it's effects. The little fires that were always well cared for and controlled by the pack were extraordinary things. Their long tendrils were several colors, even some colors that didn't make sense! Sometimes the base of the fires turned blue, while the twisting filaments were orange and red and yellow and white. The pup enjoyed the look of the flames and the erratic dance they always performed. And on top of it all, the glow from the fires would light up the den in which they sat, and cast a comforting warmth over him. He liked the fires, liked them a lot, and whenever he could he would inch just a little closer to see just how near to the flames he could get.

Of course, almost as intriguing as fire itself was what it left behind once it had spent its energy. The adults would deposit wood and bits of paper or kindling into the flames, but when the bonfires burned themselves out peculiar bits would be left where wood once was. It was always blackened and was brittle when it was cool enough to the touch (Scorpius had once tried to touch a burned log too soon after the fire was out and singed his paw pads – he limped for a week!). Sometimes pieces of the logs even turned to silver sheets and melted away, either floating up into the air or making dusty piles of ash on the ground. It was all so fascinating.

And then there was the smoky aroma that the campfires put off. Sometimes the smoke was overwhelming – usually when a fire was lit in a den without enough ventilation, though the pack quickly rectified this error – but other times the scent of the wood fire was gentle and soothing. Perhaps it was because the scent of fire reminded him of the feeling of perching near a fire, and that was becoming one of the boy's fondest memories.

His countenance took on a dreamy caste as he thought about all this, the swishing of his tail slowing a bit with his preoccupation. But he did not drift away from the woman completely. “Terrible? No. The burned lands must be so cool!” He could not understand why she would say such a thing. Perhaps she was a little bit crazy. Well, whatever. Maybe later he could teach her about the perks of fire remains.

Being young and quick to jump subjects, he made short work of his previous muse as the woman told him her name. Fi... fiachrara... achr... ”Okay, Fia it is.” Thankfully she told him that calling her Fia was fine, for he was poised to forget her complicated name in five seconds. It was not out of rudeness or lack of wit, but there was an awfully interesting crack on the wall that she had to contend with. It kind of looked like a bunny.

He snapped back to attention when she mentioned something about carving, though. He knew what it was but had not known of anyone else with this talent – at least not someone who bothered to stop and talk to the puppy. His tail began to beat the air again.

“You carve? How cool! Yeah, I wanna see!” he exclaimed with a little yip and began shuffling on his forepaws again.

Fiachra Gervase · 01-08-2011, 04:21 PM

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i can't escape the twisted way you think of me

SSWM: 417.

i feel you in my dreams and i don't sleep

Clearly, this pup was either a pyro or terribly naive. She ought to take him to the border sometime and show him the burnt-up rubble which had, clearly, once been a habitat.. perhaps even for these areas current residents. Fiachra, being a bit older and a bit wiser, knew the dangers of fire. Fire had taken many of her own before, set by vandals and double crossers for Kitten's old pack. Charred skin, fur and bone.. the very thought made her gag a little bit. She had been disgusted when she had found one of her pack mates burnt to death. Disgusted and terrified. Her head swayed a little to remember it. She shook her head to clear it, then turned her attentions back to the pup. Scorpius D'Angelo. Naniko's boy. She ought be careful with this one. If she didn't treat him well and keep the conversation youth-friendly, she may find herself in more trouble than she cared to be in, particularly with the snow white queen.

His excitement at her craft made her smile. "Come on, then." She nodded and turned, walking back toward her small den. Every once in a while, she turned and checked that his small, dark form was still behind her. Soon, they had reached her home, and she brought him over to the table and two stools. They were formed simply, with the table having straight legs fastened into the table top with an intricate cut that linked them together. Beneath the table, braces held the legs fast, keeping them in place. The stools were made similarly, with three legs each and each leg braces to the ones beside it. Maybe someday, she would put backs on the stools and make them chairs, but not today. She still needed to make a bed.

An idea sparked in her mind. "Say, Scorpius - I'm going to make a bed today. Would you like to watch how I do my carving?" The pup could help her find good wood to carve the frame from, and he would maybe know where she might find fabric to sew a mattress as well. He could be a huge asset to her, and she wouldn't mind the company. Maybe she could even show him how to carve someday, when he could shift. It would be interesting. The very idea excited her. Of course, she'd need to talk to Naniko about it.. but later, later! Today, she needed to make a bed with her new, young friend.

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