[html] | | The past days had made it evident that many, if not all surviving residents of Bleeding Souls had squeezed through the mountains and scattered out into the western half of what was once called Nova Scotia. It was strange to pass by trances of so many living scents that she associated with Bleeding Souls alone, in an entirely different landscape and context. No one wore the stamp and seal of a pack, the soot-tainted traces of what was, muddled and scattered. It created a wary chaos, Poe imagined, for all of those that had a name for home and had wrapped it in a illusion of security.
She could be happy for that, at least--she had little to lose, Her family and friends were few and far between, none of which she relied on for predictable comfort, and very capable by their own means. Ahren was too savvy to miss a beat, Endy too steady to slip, and Naniko had a network too tight to allow a scratch. Even Misery, haggard and half-lame, had proven that she could survive deadly fires. And of course, Hollow was either a figment of her imagination or a ghost stalking her from the Beyond, where he was likely very safe from something as little and petty as a wildfire.
Which was all to leave her in the same state that she had been a week before while standing in an entirely different landscape. And even in all of her travels, she had never come across something quite like this. Row upon row of the fall, yellow flowers, just as many stooped over in a winter's defeat as those looking brightly to the blue sky, aching for the height that would taken on quicker than one would imagine. They were an abstract glimpse of herself years ago before... Well, a lot of things. No matter, it was enough to tug at the corners of her lips and send her deep into the sunflower field, hands open to brush against the stiff fuzzed stalks that just as often as not, stretched up and beyond her measly five feet.
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There was another paragraph, but I cut it out because I didn't like it at all >_O. Tell me if you want me to rewrite any of this.
She was running. Her speed was nothing in her Optime form compared to her other forms, and there was nothing precise to run from or to. She ran to run, for the reckless feeling of free abandon and uncaring in where she went or when she eventually got home. Because she'd get there. For how much it seemed that it wasn't anymore, it was still the same. Different setting, different characters, but it was the same play and show as it had been before. The girl was starting to feel that even if she did really want to run away, it would just follow her. Eidolon had made her wary of believing in destiny but lately it seemed that it was all set out for her, whether she liked it or not.
Anathra had seen fields of wildflowers before and she had seen sunflowers, but the girl had never quite seen an entire field of sunflowers. It gave her pause for only a moment before she was off again, bounding up and away from the shore towards the tall stalks that she saw. They were soon around and above her, all she could see no matter where she looked and slowing her pace to a brisk lope. It was no matter. It'd be pretty sad, and quite a claim, if she actually got lost in a Sunflower field.
The black shape passed by her maybe seven or eight feet away, stalks giving away gently for the other as she made her way through the same sunshine place as Anathra. The gears in her mind churned as she got the glimpse of the other girl; the height that was like her own, the colour, and the scent that set off a bunch of memories in the Welsh's brain but had a layer of unrecognizable things that fogged it from being exactly the same as before. Anathra imagined hers was different, too. Ah, well. For the second time today she was running, becoming slightly airborne and before she knew it she had tackled the other as gentlest she could; the two small werewolves tumbled further into the sunflowers [a mess of black, red, and the occasional flash of blue hair] before stopping. Eyes bright and smile wide, Anathra half sat on her long-lost friend's stomach, teetering as the momentum caught up to her before she finally fell off and rolled, sitting back up beside the other.
Poe! was the one word she breathed, tilting her head as she smothered the rest of the words that were bound to bubble up and out at some point.
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[html] | | Her ears contorted to fixate on the movement long before she could see the figure from her past amongst the sunflowers. It slowed her feet and hurried her heart, curiosity furrowing her brow until a glimpse of the red and blue figure thundered behind her. She spun around and tilted her torso to see through the stalks like a child in a crowded room. And just as soon as she found the curve of an auburn thigh and twist of tail, like a scene from a B-list horror flick, it began to run directly back at her.
She only managed a short yelp of surprise and a couple of steps back before the slender, bright-eyed wolf leapt at her--honey eyes, girly features, brilliant hair, she had changed and was all the same and even lovelier, livelier, and suddenly right on top of her. The untended burn that marked her left side shattered her romantic reflection on the past, and she yelped sharply as they hit the ground. They rolled enthusiastically, not without Poe's careful turns away from her singed side, finally coming to a halt with Poe panting on her back and Ana teetering over, and then off to the side of her belly. Poe's golden-green eyes couldn't help but follow her assumably long-lost companion all the while, mesmerized and shocked, and very happy for a distraction to the physical (for once in her life).
"Ana," she finally breathed out in a quick, smooth breath that curled her up from the petal-strewn ground, and back to the reaches of the Welsh lady, arms tossing around her neck in a tight embrace. "Ana, you rampaging twat!" she repeated again, pulling tighter with a tight jaw and a pursed smirk. "So ill-mannered, really..." she muttered, thick in jest and thinly veiled excitement. Somewhere under that tone, she was on the verge of tears.
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