M - She asked me what it was I want, I said that I

Itachi Lykoi · 02-13-2011, 03:21 AM

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WARNING This thread contains: drug usage content starting with the 2nd post. Reader discretion is advised.

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The elderly shed had not survived the rough weather this year, and though his silent mourning was shallow as the crust of ice on the nearby stream where he had filled a small beholder with cool water. Today was the first day after the blizzard that he had found his way back here, and he had been met with the absent contours. Perhaps it was a silent sign that nothing could change—that these two creatures of shared flesh and blood could not change. He had betrayed the blood once before, and her eyes had told him what he too knew to be possible; that it could happen again. Itachi did not want it to happen, but her words were traps where he could fall and fail. She was wonderful at her moves; shifting between hard and soft with merciless beat.

There were traces of the floor, but there were no memories he could draw from it. This place was not special, though his thoughts had insisted that it was. Anathema’s claim ran deep into the soil, but the pale blonde male was not content with watching a low, black ceiling. A strange child of the dark, for he sought the natural light from a pleasant sun. He adored the blue canvas on the sky, for he associated it with pleasant memories, fictive and real alike. Alas, this place held nothing but the whisper of a foolish boy’s imagination. Perhaps the black pelted man had been right, that there was nothing in the stars. Regardless the youth had collected sad, remaining pieces of what most likely had been part of roof and walls of the executed building, and the pile of dry, unlit wood had been neatly arranged before him.

The gray headband rested against the swept wooden floor, carefully folded to perfection. Fingers were careful and precise as he poured the black powder into the little beholder of water he had filled up earlier. Holding the little bowl, he used a dark clawed finger to mix dry with wet until it became a thicker mass of pitch black. It was a silly thing, what he did right now, but he needed to move on and find exactly what he wanted from his surroundings. Mostly he felt indecisive, but not everything was shrouded in the mist of unknown.

China Rose Lykoi · 02-13-2011, 03:55 AM

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It had been many, many days.

At first, it had been easy not to think of him. He was simply a figment for her enjoyment - A tasty yet forbidden fruit that she had dined on once, but had now found her palette to reject. When surrounded by her family, by her beloved sisters and her glorious grandmother, it was easy to fall into utmost guilt at the despicable thing she had done with him. He was a near-murderer. He was a traitor. She, in no way, craved him any longer.

But like any good poison, Itachi lingered still within her blood, seeping into her mind when she least expected it. It was as though the songbird had one foot in a snare - She could see the open sky, the refreshing oblivion of ignorance, but no matter how hard the silver girl tried to soar she remained grounded. Tethered, by sinful thoughts of him.

For a while, she had contented herself with pretending it had never happened. He was the figment of a bad dream, nothing more. But after the Earthmother had torn her fury throughout the already bleak land, ravishing her children with bitter cold and ferocious wind, her thoughts had again turned to the fallen angel. He, of golden pelt and blood red eyes. Had he survived? There had been some fatalities, and she knew him to dwell up in the mountains, where the screaming wind would have been worst. Was he injured? Was he thinking of her?

Disgusted with her pining, China had resolved to put an end to the madness. But even in this stubborn thought, was she wrong - Her mind sought the excuse to see, for herself, the place they had been. Perhaps there she would find the cure for the venom of He.

As before, it seemed a matter of fate. Did Shea laugh, as Shea saw the two move as one to that shredded place? The Earthmother was many secrets, and China never preached to understand the ways in which Shea worked. There was no fire spiralling from the old chimney, but there was no chimney either. The shed had been torn away from the mountainside, leaving only the scar where its foundations had been, and a figure hunched over. The bleary sunlight cast his mottled pelt to gold. She stood at the edge of the trees, watching him in utmost silence, wondering absently at the lack of emotion within her.

China did not know what to feel. She approached with the silence of a forest sylph, silvery pelt that so contrasted with his own seemingly born out of the cold landscape around. Cerulean eyes, blue as the tranquil dawn, made no effort to pull themselves from the figure ahead.

She made no effort to disguise her approach, and stopped many body lengths away. A single smoldering joint was lifted silently to waiting lips, filling her lungs with the joyous and aching white. When she spoke, it spilled out around her words. "You didn't light it." A tilt of her head gestured to the neat bundle of wood, central to the carcass of the old shed.

Itachi Lykoi · 02-13-2011, 04:49 AM

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Fingertip pressed firmly against untainted grey texture, and as it moved left a bleeding line of moist black. Focus was intense as that finger drew the first circle, closely followed by another, smaller twin shape. Dot and arrow and there it was, the place he had to accept as his, his home and sanctuary. Lids hooded gentle sunset stare travelled away from the little piece of very simple art. Fingers lifted to brush away a few insistent strands of blonde hair, though a moist sensation by his forehead immediately reminded her that he had barely finished his painting task. Frozen water was readily available everywhere around, so he was not worried about staining his pelt.

That would have been it, but a presence drew closer; one he knew. Craning his neck gently, invisible, horizontal lines found volume for a breathless moment and the approach announced by snow crushed under petite soles. She did not try to hide her incoming form, and his fur not contrasted the snow’s lack of colour, he could have pondered whether or not she was aware of his silent presence. No walls could shelter his existence, but it had never been a point to hide away from curious beasts. Itachi did not automatically encourage company, but common rules did not apply for silver winged princesses holding the vivid seas within her eyes.

Contrasting, manifested rubies rose to the unlit wood as it was remarked. And yet she was here, summoned by a thought alone. Claws clicked together softly in his lap now, tainting clean hands with remaining black from one especially artistic finger that had managed to sketch up Anathema’s emblem. ”No,” he breathed, still voice enlarged by the silent scene. Was she disappointed that she had not been summoned? The nature of her earlier departure had left him indecisive. But she had been present in his mind as he had watched day turn into night from the mouth of a black hole.

He would be honest with her. "It's nice to see you again," though his gaze had yet to find the figure dressed in blush and silver. He knew her; could watch her silhouette against black whenever he closed his eyes.

China Rose Lykoi · 02-13-2011, 05:40 AM

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He didn't seem particularly surprised to see her - or rather, sense her, because those thrilling bloodrose eyes had yet to glance her way. But China still experienced a fat surge of satisfaction at the way his body seemed to tense, just in the knowing that she was there. It seemed, regardless of words or thoughts, that Itachi Lykoi had not forgotten her; Or at least, his body had not.

Keen orbs, daring him to lock gazes, watched in turn each shift of his frame. It seemed that the youth grew more and more each second he was alive, as if he were sucking the life from the frigid air around him, converting it into the energy his muscles required to mature. Not yet a full adult, but more and more did the golden boy appear one, and more and more was it difficult for her to remind herself that he, and she, were not.

His voice prickled up her spine, but China remained poised. She had been ready for this. If it was his mind that had called her, then like a homing pigeon she had returned, seeking the young male and knowing what it was she would find. But he, too, was different. She could sense it in the tense electricity between them, the slight discord strung tight in an otherwise sweet harmony. He grew different to her. But it seemed that Itachi learned quickly, for he spoke again - In itself an act of progress for the near mute boy, China mused.

She took it upon herself to shorted the gap between them, strolling forward with elaborate ease, as though her lithe body experienced no tension in being near to him. "Mmmm..." Silver songbird had no doubt that he was being honest with his words, for it seemed uncharacteristic that the golden youth would lie to make such pointless smalltalk. There was significance held within each sentence, and had she more wit and patience, perhaps the girl would have unravelled their true meanings.

But she did not. Standing apart, but near to him, she took another slow drag before responding. "I am glad you are here," truth, tainted by a strange wariness that had not been present the other times they had met. Perhaps her heart had grown flighty, but more likely, her morals were strained. She moved to crouch beside his seated frame, close enough now that their shoulders might brush. She would allow him no personal space unless he specifically requested it. "What're you doing?" Cerulean hue drifted over the strange items he had - the strop of material with the strange runes painted on to it, the bowl, the dye.

Itachi Lykoi · 02-13-2011, 06:10 AM

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Along with the young silvery creature approached acrid stench, and nostrils flared at this discovery, fragment of pale smog reaching his until now unsuspecting form. But his ears had been gifted the melodic tones of the girl’s soft voice, and there was contentment and curious resentment simultaneously present as the girl settled at a distance that was not far at all. Bleeding sunsets wandered over to the girl that was shrinking beside his form, a little more for every day she appeared before him. What was that stench?

Were her tones as true as his? He could only ponder, for there was a string with a different shade discolouring her voice, but he did not know her well enough to begin guessing what the shape of the source could be. Silky teddy audits peacefully brushed along the top of his blonde head as deep cherry investigated the reeking cylinder where a pale, slightly transparent line curled into the air; poison faking life. He would ask her the same thing, but the princess’ voice had found the stillness in the scene and disturbed it first, so he would oblige and explain.

A clawed finger pointed to the flat curves of the wolf pack he was a part of. ”Anathema,” he revealed, steel layered with a touch of softness, for he did not want the song bird to flee from his naturally isolative demeanour. What was this fairy-tale creature to him, `hmm? ”What about you?” Itachi’s curiosity asked with a sceptical voice, eyes glaring at the reeking stick. The top of the prince’s muzzle received creases as he grimaced slightly, mourning the loss of her scent’s purity.

The painted cloth was done, and the boy pushed it away from both their forms, for it had to be allowed to dry. Again, fingers hesitantly returned back to his laps, though there was no fidgeting.

China Rose Lykoi · 02-13-2011, 09:43 AM

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With each barrier she pushed, it seemed that the golden male relented, just a little. Now, he did not retaliate to her sudden nearness, but accepted it as a side effect of being in her graces. Had she attempted such frivolous connection in the earlier stages of their strange and fragile relationship, there was little doubt in the silver songbird's mind that he would have reacted far more strongly.

Progress. He was accepting her turmoiled presence, and with it, her unique being.

At her question, Itachi gestured to the material strip before them, and the strange shapes scrawled on its dull surface. Curious Lapis Lazuli followed his clawed finger, peering intently for a moment at the meaningless squiggles. The concept of writing baffled her, but China supposed that the small symbols were like the drawings her sister sometimes did, only far uglier. If Itachi believed them to represent his pack, then regardless of her thoughts to their quality, the silvery princess would oblige. "I see..." She mused softly, shifting her weight to sit crosslegged. When the boy pushed the cloth away, she shuffled again to sit on more of an angle, so that light indigo could observe him without too much effort.

His mirrored question provoked a slightly startled look from the girl. Her gaze drifted comically from his distasteful look to the joint in her hand, before returning back to the blackblooded prince. "What, this?" She held the small object out, closer to him, inquisitively. "It's marijuana. My sisters grow it." She smiled proudly - Their weed was the best of the best. China herself seemed to have adapted to the intoxicating effects of the drug, or perhaps she had a natural resilience toward being high, but her judgement was surprisingly sharp and clear. Gaze was levelled on him as she took another lazy drag, large ears lax at the sides of her head, belying her attentive alertness. She then held the smoldering joint out in offering. "You can try it, if you'd like."

Itachi Lykoi · 02-13-2011, 11:14 AM

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He did not catch shifting weather behind her indigo. However, the boy could not judge the thoughts flaring beyond those fascinating colours. This was not for her anyway, but for him. His heart was a feeble thing, faking function when it was small and cold, withering behind walls of flesh and bone. Loyalty and dedication for anything but himself was something he was forced to learn slowly from scratch. It would start with the place reeking of raw soil and moist rock. He was what he was—quite possibly a monster, but it did not change his blood or the final path. This girl was wrong to be here though, but the boy did not spend time on guesswork when he could simply refrain.

Ears slammed again his skull without sound as she held the small, reeking object closer to him. Marijuana, she said, and Itachi was intrigued. It was not his wish to judge prematurely, but he knew he had already made up a mind about the strange stuff. Had he looked through fog and pictures, he would have remembered the sticks that Kaena used to inhale to loosen up her slowly failing body. But no, Itachi worked hard to remove what could inspire nostalgia to continue to grow. Strangely, this girl’s face and scent did give much fuel to the homesickness. She did fill him with a shallow longing though, one he failed to interpret.

Although eyes had narrowed with dislike for the oozing stick, after having watched her he decided that there was nothing worthwhile holding him back from trying this. Pale fingers retrieved the joint from her with utter calm, and he did not hesitate as he brought the reeking object to his mouth and inhaled as he had watched her. In his mind—for a moment, he had imagined it would be all right. Fire chewed its way down through his airways and filled young lungs with black agony. For only a young echo of moment, the boy managed to maintain his composure, but not a second had been allowed to pass before his airways exploded and sent the boy into an intense coughing fit that could not be matched with anything.

China Rose Lykoi · 02-13-2011, 11:42 AM

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He appeared to hold an intense mistrust for the gently smoking object, that which she held out delicately as though it were a succulent morsel to be shared. China enjoyed good weed, as much as she did all other good things in life, but thought little of sharing with another. She was not a hoarder, or had never been, but their previous meeting had stirred unkind feelings of jealousy that had taken a cold night to forget.

Regardless, what belonged to her belonged to all children of the world, and she was curious to see what Itachi would make of the hippie-child's sweetened oxygen. The only object that she would not ever share was tucked away beneath the bandages on her arm, only slightly in view where it poked out above and beneath.

It seemed that he had wordlessly made up his mind to detest the joint, and China was just about to silently withdraw her offer when the youth reached out to take it. Arched brows rose in slight surprise, but she smiled docilely, waiting patiently for him to learn.

For a second, it seemed he was a natural. She had already begun to form a pleased smile, when the handsome boy's steady face erupted into small spasms of coughing. Unable to refrain, China began to laugh - It seemed so queer, that an object so small and useless had been able to shatter a resolve so strong that it had taken all of her wiles to crawl beneath it. The more she laughed, the more hilarious it became, until the girl was clutching at her abdomen and keeled over in a strange mockery of Itachi. Finally, contrite, she stifled the last giggles and wiped at watering Lapis Lazuli. "Oh- oh, I'm sorry, it's just-" another delighted peal of laughter, the most genuine one she had released in quite some time, "I don't mean to laugh, honestly. You're just so..." Unable so form the words she wanted, the princess shook her head in dissent, smiling still.

Reaching over to take the forgotten joint from him, she snuffed it out in the snow. "There, now, enough of that. Are you alright?" Chirped the young maiden, glowing with the innocence of the humor he had conjured.

Itachi Lykoi · 02-14-2011, 07:41 AM

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Appealing sounds of twinkling laughter rose above the harsh sound of the youth trying to cough his lungs out. It burned. Virgin lungs could not deal with the rough, alien pollution. Intrigued, the young male brought fingers to his eyes; swiping away very rare tears pooling in the corner of sunset slits. Itachi, of course, failed to see the scene as she did, for he was the suffering victim, however temporary it was. Black seemed to cling to the inner walls of his lungs and sought to choke him, surely. But it was only passing, and soon the male could draw hoarse amounts of oxygen into his aching organs. The prince failed to see what could lead someone to voluntarily inhale such substance—even enjoy it, but perhaps he would find the answer sooner than he thought.

Blonde audits shifted; took in the dancing laughter of the young woman in his presence. Eyes continued to shed salt liquid involuntary, but the worst part was definitely over. Now what did she mean? But on her face lingered her smile, and he knew he had once before made a not so smart move when he had misinterpreted her words. The object was taken away and murdered against soft, merciless white, and he was not sorry to see that. ”Yes,” sounded the reply to the question that then was asked. It had not been quite what he had expected, but he was one experience richer and satisfied with that. White fingers rubbed against chest and ribs, but the ache within would take its own time evaporating from his lungs.

It hadn’t been pleasant. The mere expression on her face made a small smile stretch across youthful features though, for she could not be resisted. Face slowly tilted though, for again he wondered about those words that probably had meant nothing. What did she think of him?

China Rose Lykoi · 02-14-2011, 08:43 AM

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In all things, Itachi was somewhat of an enigma.

It was difficult to assume how he might react, and China was not used to this level of unpredictability. It made him harder to interact with, but at the same time, challenging - All the more difficult for her to charm. Because of his consistence silence and lucidness, it was impossible for the silvery girl to judge the effect she was having on him - the golden traitor hid himself so well beneath those blank, albeit watering, eyes of ruby red.

Had she been a conscious manipulator, this would have disturbed China. But she made no directed aims on his independence, and any thoughts to do so would instantly be discarded as 'absurd'.

His reply was satisfactory, and the concern that had quickened in her mirthful cerulean hue quickly melted back to sweet humor. He was rubbing at his chest, as if that would ease what she imagined to be an uncomfortable burning there - That was how it felt to do the thing incorrectly. Regardless, the boy had taken a big strong puff, and the weed was potent stuff. She would be amused to see if it affected him so swiftly as it did other virginal drug-takers. The pleasant buzz in her own mind was heightened by his attentiveness, but it could be brushed aside in a moment's notice, especially under the sobering affliction of adrenaline.

Wanting to show more kindness than her previous outburst of hilarity, the songbird tilted her head slightly to one side and offered the golden youth a soft coo of sympathy. "Oh, honey, don't let it trouble you. Practice makes perfect!" That sharp white smile again. Perhaps she had been unsure on arrival, but Itachi was as intoxicating a drug to the Lykoi princess as the now-dead joint had been. She was beginning to find him utterly... Addictive.

Distracted by the splotches of dark ink on his face, she sighed pettily, and scooted closer to the fallen prince. "If you lay your head down in my lap, I'll get that goo out of your hair." Musical voice was innocent as always, but the game played on.

Itachi Lykoi · 02-14-2011, 09:12 AM

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The furious leaking from ripe rubies was slowly drying, and eyes temporarily fled from pretty features to gaze at his damp fingertips with calm wonder. Never had the young male shed childish tears in the dismay that so quickly could seize young souls when their life produced simple obstacles. It could have been fascinated, but Itachi was who he was, and the wept liquid was swept away against the cool floor of what once had belonged to a cabin that no longer existed today. There was no shame to find within him because of this slight failure of sorts, for he did not reel from the fact that there were so many things he did master. It was natural to fail, far more common than to succeed, as least the very first time.

Eyes returned to the silver bird’s face as her voice continued to shed words; soothing the soul that she suspected was burnt by the unfortunate cough fit. Sharp white smile was met with the same gentle curves, but she would not know how rare that curved line was. It was a small gesture that was likely to become more natural for him as time passed, for he did not wish to scare her away with his naturally cool character. Pale hands wished to settle in his lap, and so they did, fingers slightly chilled from the brief contact with the frozen floor. The princess did not tremble today, and he wondered if this was a sign that the weather was losing its icy touch. His own pelt fiercely protected him from chill, and it made it more difficult to determine temperatures, as he rarely had to experience discomfort on that front.

A low huff escaped him at her sudden proposal, so innocent and friendly. But she moved closer, and he knew that he quietly appreciated that move. Another calm was climbing, one he could not distinguish clearly, but it was not a bad thing, and perhaps her offer should not be turned down. Picking up the beholder with black liquid and placing it next to the headband, he turned from her and lowered his back until it met cold ground and neck and the back of his head met the warm, living cushion. It was a hushed act of trust to obey without second thoughts dancing through the ceiling.

China Rose Lykoi · 02-14-2011, 09:40 AM

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There was no reply to her words of comfort, but China was intelligent, and she had grown to accept that there would be none. Just as Itachi learned and reflected how to deal with her own peculiar interactions, the silver girl was adapting to his own. She was no longer offended by his cool, wary silence, but accustomed, and somewhat endeared, to it.

However, he smiled more now than when they first met. It was a true assumption that she did not notice how these smiles seemed to be saved for her company alone, but had she known such, China would have been flattered.

Rather than decline her invitation, the boy succumbed obediently to her wishes, and with the smallest of deliberations reclined gracefully to the cold floor. The day was not as cool as it would have been, prior to the blustery storm, but China was still grateful for the warmth conjured by his slightest touch. The weigh of his head in her lap was a welcome one, and crossed legs were a perfect support for the boy's reclining figure.

Cool, light fingertips brushed through stained strands of gold. A small tuttering sound spilled from her throat, as the willowy Fae leaned over him, Lapis Lazuli fixed disconcertingly on the point just above his own rubyrose. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Grasping a handful of snow, she held it in a fragile fist until her fingers became numb, and water seeped from between the blushed hues. Releasing the remnants of sludge, China then began to groom through the darkened locks, her attention fixated on removing these blemishes from his otherwise glorious halo. As she fiddled, the hippie girl hummed softly beneath her breath - The tunes were vague, but pleasant nonetheless.

With lackadaisical precision, she cleaned the few splotches, pausing occasionally with a dreamy expression to run cool fingers through the boy's soft hair. Even after the ink was removed, she paused only to scrub her hands in the never-ending white, before resuming to toy with the gold-spun strands.

Her gaze had become vacant, fixed far away; her head no longer tilted down towards the boy. Without warning, she paused her humming to speak. "Do you ever dream about what it would be like to fly, Itachi?" Completely unfazed by the random absurdity of the question, she paused in her absent fiddlings to continue, breathlessly, "I think it would be most wonderful. Like, the best feeling, maybe in the whole world."

Itachi Lykoi · 02-14-2011, 10:07 AM

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He knew sharp edges and hard surfaces, but the girl was a solid contradiction to all he knew. It was strange to accept her repeated presence without deep discontentment slowly infesting him from within. Originally hollow, any sensation disturbing this was rejected unconsciously, but the girl had found a way to lure his nature, and she could climb over the first solid wall without stirring the eager defense mechanisms that stalked in the dark. Flushed gaze fixated on summer skies residing with silver and blushing rose, for he could drink from those pools until they run dry with life.

Her touch was gentle, though cool against his temperate gold, but it was not enough to unsettle his satisfaction with present temperatures. Her touch had always been cool, though perhaps that would change if he met her form in the seasons of sun and life. A light, cooing melody reached relaxed golden ears, and the boy who worshipped silence now adored that tune. Pale blonde lids hid away all there was of crimson and he reminded himself of this strange fact that this scene was turning unexpectedly pleasant. The prince had previously decided it impossible to live without guard as long as another being was near, but this was wrong.

It wasn’t uncomfortable to feel soft fingers brush through his mane of darkened gold, and he almost stirred as her voice sounded from above, disturbing his sea of absolute calm. Cherry coated eyes opened into two thin slits to fixate on the face that spoke. Wolves could not fly, but still he dreamed of the evening sky with its sea of pale light. But there was nothing in the stars, they said. His dreams were dark depths with scattered flares, but the young woman continued, and the male expected her to find the answer in his usual silence. He did not doubt the words she now spoke. It would be lovely to soar and observe a world one could flee from if one had wings.

Her words were nonsense, but he liked them nevertheless. ”Where would you go?” quiet words wondered.

China Rose Lykoi · 02-14-2011, 10:29 AM

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Because her pause had disturbed him, the girl resumed her gentle administrations. She was willing to please him, for in doing so, she often pleased herself. The songbird would sing her song for any traveller; only cold bars or broken wings would take it away.

His questioned provoked another vague smile, but it seemed her mind was far away, coasting on the updrafts of an imaginary impossibility. "Oh, I don't know," came the soft tunes, "Wherever the wind took me, I suppose." She shut the windows of cerulean with a curtain of thick black lashes, smile still lingering sweetly on young maw. A soft wind toyed with close-cropped hair, and it danced gently about the doll's porcelain face. Maybe she would fly to the sun, and find out why it burned so feircely. Maybe, she would fly to the eye of the nighttime, and pluck out each of the glittering stars.

The gentle high coasted through her mind, and the girl began to hum again, sweet lilting music that reminded her dearly of Juniper Peace. She had flown away from them; did they miss their little silver songbird? China could not be sure, but she felt no grief over it. The time had come for her sisters and herself so move on, and so they had. The currents of the deep fates had brought them here, and brought her, inevitably, to him.

Another pause in the melody. "Would you come find me, if I flew away?" The gentle query made her smile; the girl expected no answer to this. She did not belong to him, and he bore no real loyalty to her. The silvery damsel's blackblood friend was alien to the lies a boy often told a girl to keep her affections, and she was glad of it. Cool fingers smoothed hair back from the boy's blood-red gaze, sweet eggshell blue seeking it once more.

Itachi Lykoi · 02-15-2011, 03:52 AM

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Oh, she didn’t know, wherever the wind would take her. He could identify with such words. To hold such freedom in one’s heart to follow the wind’s direction with eyes closed was something he could admire. Pale paws should not necessarily have stopped by the underground kingdom of Anathema. They could have brought him further into the dimensions existing away from known shapes and valleys. The shores of salty sea were not without an end. Itachi would have liked to see all these worlds beyond this one. However, he did not share the mindset of the average youth. The fallen prince had time to go see the world; there were no urgent matters that he had to attend to. The strings that tied him down to this place did not hold the strength to become chains, and one day they would be cut so that ebony wings too could take flight into the unknown.

Idle hands sought together on top of pale abdomen and knitted together casually, though there was a strange intrigue rising; cotton swelling under his skin. Crimson pools slowly grew at yet another strange question, but he was starting to learn that they were part of who she was. Now why would he chase after something evading capture? It would be impossible either way. The boy shook his head. ”I couldn't follow,” So all he could do was to stand by idly, watching her disappear into blue. Not to forget that there were no obligations binding them together. Whether he knew it or not, the girl’s touch would linger even as vivid memories turned to dust. He broke from eye contact to let eyes find the sky. She could fly whenever she wanted, for life was hers.

China Rose Lykoi · 02-15-2011, 08:22 AM

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It was a strange and emphatic thing, that the silver girl and the golden boy shared. Maybe a common understanding - a fragile and fresh experience that had bloomed into what it was now. Which was? She wasn't sure. Maybe she didn't particularly seek to know. What uncomfortable epiphany awaited that search?

It was a survival tactic, then. The longer she could delay clear thought, the longer she could stroke Itachi's fine blonde hair without a worry in the world.

Man, what she would have given for another joint.

The motion of the boy shaking his head drew her wandering attentions, and cerulean returned faithfully to bleeding violet. For once, the boy's response seemed to cause her some amount of sorrow - an unspoken wish that died within soft cerulean; a shared truth that they had both known from the start of this traitorous union. "No, I suppose not." Fingers stilled gently on his head, resting on the boy's golden crown as she stared absently at his folded hands. She sighed.

"I don't have wings, though," a heartless laugh, the sound so much colder than her previous outburst, "So, it doesn't matter. I wont be flying anywhere." Cool fingers slid down to his shoulders, palms resting on the youth but firm muscles of his upper arms. There, they drummed lightly, a beat to internal music that only China could hear. She mused over those distasteful words only a moment more, before shifting slightly to draw Itachi's attention. Her contentment with remaining still had dwindled quickly, and the songbird was eager for more. "If your material thing is dry, I'll help you put it on." One hand gestured to the strip. It was a curious thing, not like her own human clothing, and she wished to see just how it could make the boy handsomer.

Itachi Lykoi · 02-15-2011, 09:54 AM

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Her voice had temporarily lost its appealing melody and caused depths of ruby to return to rose, silver and cerulean. The boy did not mourn prematurely for what could have been lost, for he owned nothing. A life had been established in the clan lands, though nothing attached him to any element of this earth except for what was required by his physical form. He had brought nothing as he fled across the mountain, and he found this simple existence rather relieving, for nothing could bring the world crashing down on him if he did not want it to.

Yet it was the cold truth she spoke, and his little smile remained, though without the genuine touch she had brought forth before. It was not obligatory to own wings in order to fly, but he cleverly kept his tongue; assumed he knew the reaction which would have bloomed had he spoken his opinion. Perhaps his golden halo was cleared now, for lithe fingers moved and the moment was over.

Her words coached him up and away from her warmth. Cotton sensation followed, and he found it very strange. He could have expressed verbal puzzlement, but he wouldn’t know which words to choose. Crimson was redirected to the headband, and an uncharacteristic exhale escaped him at the sight. This was not loyalty, but it remained a start, he supposed. Pale fingers reached for the soft textile, though it was stiffened somewhat by the lonely cold. Fingertips pressed against the black lines on the cloth, experimenting. No black trace remained as he turned the finger up for inspection, so it would have to do.

It was a small task to put it on, but if the lovely creature wished to be of assistance, he was not about to disallow it. The cloth was handed to her with an open palm, and sunsets settled on her young face again, drinking in the play of colours in her face.

China Rose Lykoi · 02-16-2011, 05:05 AM

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Her voice conjured his movement, and once Itachi had moved, she instantly missed the warmth his small connection had provided. Winter was not a season in which she flourished; In spring, when food was more regular, and when her pelt would shed what simple thickness it had feebly acquired against the bitter chill, Itachi's songbird would be beautiful.

Until then, she was only the whispered promise of beauty - Too young yet to be called such, waiting on the moons to pass until full maturity marked her a prize.

She moved with him, peering over as the golden boy first tested the scrap of material, and then handed it silently to her. China took it daintily between a thumb and forefinger, observed the way that slate grey ruffled like a torn flag in the slight stirring of the air. Then, smoothing it out over her palm, the girl peered curiously at the strange emblem once more.

It seemed queer to her, that the prince wished to brand himself with the insignia of a world that was not his. His blood was royalty, but not to the strangers he named Anathema. Did he wish to forget his own blue blood? China would never mark herself in such a way. Although she was loyal to her family in Inferni, she had little thought for the pack itself. She was a free thing; one of the Earthmother's most prized daughters.

Assuming the purpose of the strip of material (for it was not too difficult a thing to comprehend, and she had seen it worn such before), the silver dappled girl faced the traitor once more, a look of concentration pinching her sweet face. Finger smoothed away the longer strands of gold that fell to fetter his vision, and slid beneath them the cool fabric, settling it so that the runes were central to his forehead. Then, leaning so close that their noses almost brushed, she reached around the back of his head and tied the thing in a simple knot. The long material ends draped down the back of his neck, tangling with the increasingly lengthy locks of gold.

Cool, blushing fingers trailed back along his jawline, tilting the boy's head if he would allow it so that she could survey her work. A smile flirted with silvery maw. "You look rather handsome," Like a rogue, or a mercenary, she thought.

Itachi Lykoi · 02-16-2011, 05:49 AM

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It was a white lie, the insignia shown on the piece of cloth. He knew it, but the rest would not. Perhaps it was the start of a truth, for he refused to linger with nonchalant memories of a past he could not return to. The traitor had to wonder though what had lead to the eagerness that had caused him to become an outcast. There were black sheep in every family, but he could have oiled himself with the patience he was becoming known for. Perhaps it had been childish urges too vivid to be ignored. Curiosity remained still, but he knew better now. Nothing would have changed if not the doggish Aquila had been there to save and ruin the day.

Quiet satisfaction lingered as her face drifted closer, but instead of succumbing to desire, the young Lykoi closed his eyes as she fastened the cloth. If anything, it would help to keep darker gold locks to leap into his face tirelessly. Fingers toyed with the angle of his head afterwards, but that was not an issue. As sunsets opened in pursuit of cerulean skies, she adopted his own version of the sweet smile resting on the girl’s lips. Her words spoke a compliment, but he was not dedicated enough to blush. Words were words more often than not, and he was not overly fixated on his own appearance. Though, if she thought so..

The boy’s muzzle moved, bumping against warm silver in a casual manner, though it was a quite conscious push made by a creature that did not mind his songbird’s gentle presence.

China Rose Lykoi · 02-16-2011, 09:20 AM

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It seemed that he had grown to enjoy her light touch, or at least, he did not resist it any longer. What they had shared, the action spent between two bodies, one seemingly of a premature age for such things, seemed far less intoxicating in the pale light of day. As it were, even these small touches - the simple brushing of cool fingers through thick hair, the casual brush of young flesh, the absent resting of one upon the other - seemed just as deliciously tantalising to the Lykoi girl as the passion between their bodies had been. It was difficult for her to see the act of mating as any more significant than the act of simple companionship that she offered him now; this was the way she had been brought up, the way that she had been led to embrace the tedious and wayward urges that the Earthmother had blessed her with.

Never one to delay what could be instant gratification, China allowed her fingers to remain on the creamy fur of his face, even when the blood-eyed prince leaned in to nuzzle gently at her smiling maw. This was such a rare display of affection from him, that for a moment she could not help but return the gentle nudge, cerulean eyes sparkling with their usual deviant vibrancy. She was, after all, a sylph of a creature, prone to seeking pleasure where it was to be had, If he offered it, and if she was so inclined, the silvery girl would take it without hesitation.

However, her mood was not tangible enough for that same wild passion yet. Itachi's silver songbird allowed her hands to wander over the planes of his face - memorising what her eyes saw, carving him into her consciousness. Just the lightest, fluttering touch of fingertips. Impish smile remained on the nymph's maw, and if he would allow it, she would move to snuggle against the boy. "We are alike, you know," came the gentle tones, persuasive in their innocence. It seemed fallacy that the dove could compare herself to the raven, but she continued regardless, "These people, these packs, they seem to make a claim on us, to own who we are... But we are free creatures, Itachi. We belong to no soul." Unaware of how sinister her peaceful words might sound within the mind of the twisted boy, she sighed contently.

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