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The day's light had faded quickly from the seascape, leaving a dusky twilight in its place. Residual ash from the forest fires still hung thick in the atmosphere and had been the cause of a most brilliant gold-and-crimson sunset. The beauty had been lost on Giuseppe, who thought dully that the ashes of his son and his son's mother might very well be mingling with those of the thousands of burned trees. Today marked the end of his third day of searching, and the large Italian male was beginning to feel the icy hands of despair grip at his chest. Three days had turned up nothing but evidence that some had survived and fled the fire; he had no word if any of those trails belonged to his kin or not. There were a thousand 'ifs' that plagued him now, each broader and more painful than the last. IF Maria and Beppe had survived the fire; IF they had fled this way. IF they had even been in 'souls at all at the time of the blaze. IF he could find them, IF they wanted anything to do with him anymore, anyway.
After a physically and mentally exhausting day of fruitless searching, Giuseppe set up camp on a sheltered beach. Currently, a driftwood fire cackled merrily, its salt-ridden flames flashing a curious blue-and-gold. A pair of fish were roasting on a spit above the fire. They were nearly done cooking as indicated by crisp, dripping skins and a delicious, pungent odor. Although the amber-eyed luperci's stomach was rumbling, the thought of food held no appeal. The world had turned dismal; the anger he'd once dined on had turned to cold worry in his belly. He knew he should eat, to keep up his strength. Weakness led to inaction, and inaction had never found anybody. [/html]
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They settled somewhere close to the beach, where the air was clearer and their lungs did not sting nearly as bad. She was beginning to get her sense of smell back, too, and all other normal functions that were damaged by the fire. Waking up slowly, Beppe nearby as well as the others, she felt something was different in the air. There were smells that were different to her, maybe smells she should not be smelling in this area but they were there nonetheless. They were faint and so, leaving their small group, she stood and moved in the direction of the coast. It was when the scent became stronger that her heart fell from her chest and she stopped in her tracks to see a figure, with a fire, cooking something.
Her voice caught in her throat as she moved forward, wanting to call out the name of her husband, but she was afraid it would not be him. Her feet moved quickly, the pain in her leg ignored, until she was within a few meters away from him and declared it was him. "Giuseppe!" she exclaimed, her voice cracking from damage of the previous two days. The fire had hurt her throat and the constant yelling for her son had not helped it get better, either.
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[html] mild powerplay. thwack me if necessary!
Like Maria, Giuseppe's senses had been damaged in the blaze. They were beginning to slowly return and he was relieved that the damage hadn't been permanent. Yet he wasn't 100% again, which became apparent shortly when his lady-love appeared mere meters away, calling out his name. "Maria?" He breathed softly, amazed and not quite willing to believe that after all of his frantic searching it was she who had found him. Then none of that mattered and a loud exclamation burst from his lips, "Maria!" Suddenly he was up and moving towards her, avoiding the fire and wrapping her up safe, bundled tight in his arms. If he still was angered at being left without a by-your-leave, it was forgotten now. Later, he would remember. Later, he would have hard questions that would demand answers. Now? Now he was just glad to see her alive. "Mi ero così preoccupato. Lei è doluto?" He buried his face in the thick mane of her fur, which still stank of smoke and fear. [/html]
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He was quick to respond and she met him halfway when he got up to greet her. Her barely had the chance to say anything when he spoke to her in a tongue that made her feel comfortable. She had not met another Italian speaking wolf in these areas at all and to hear it again, aside from Beppe, and to hear it from the man she loved overwhelmed her. Her arms wrapped around his neck tightly, holding him into an embrace she did not want to let go of. She had not seen him in nearly seven months and now... "No, sono bello," she whispered, pulling back her head to look at him. Her muzzle brushed against his affectionately, glad to see him again, glad that he (or so she would assume) came for her. "Sono spiacente. Sono così spiacente! L'ho mancata!" she said, enthusiasm in her voice as she buried her face into his shoulder.
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Truth be told, Giuseppe had not been expecting a warm reception. Disinterest at the very best; probably another male to rival for Maria's affections. She was a gorgeous woman, and he was certainly not the only handsome fellow to have noticed. He was very much relieved that his assumptions appeared to be wrong at the moment. They had all been through enough hellfire and frenzy in the last few days. "L'ho mancata anche l'innamorato." To have her wrapped up safe in his arms was sweet indeed. He had missed her more than he cared to admit.
Missing her was not, however, what finally drove him from the windswept seaside cottage. He had passed through anger, grief, and depression, but what had finally served to tear him away was the thought of another man raising his son. Beppe would be almost an adult now, but Giu, remembering his own wild teenage years, figured he'd be needed now more than ever. Probably not wanted, but he intended to be there all the same.
He pulled away gently, and looked Maria full in the face. He nearly drowned in the deep pools of her eyes as he studied them critically, carefully. His own glance was still warm, but crackled with intensity as he queried, "Il Maria, dove Beppe è? Dove mio figlio è?" [/html]
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Maria pulled away from him, a smile lingering on his face. It was so nice to see him again, especially after so long of thinking she never would. She thought she might have discovered herself, left her independent, but looking at Giuseppe left her feeling like she needed him. She reached for his arm, directing him to sit in the sand with her. Her leg her too much to stand. He later asked about Beppe, their child, and she looked down at her hands with a smile. "È con gli altri," she said and looked the way she came. "Dorme. Un gruppo è uscito di noi insieme," she explained and laced her fingers with his and sat close to him. "La porterò lí presto," she added on and sat there, feeling relaxed.
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Giuseppe's breath went out of him when he heard of Beppe's nearness, a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Again, he'd been afraid of what the answer might be. In the blindness of relief, he let the steady pressure on his arm guide him downward, till they were sitting side by side on the sandy beach. "Buono. Sarò contento per vederlo ancora." The simple phrase left much unsaid, but Giu had about all of the emotional upheaval he could take for the day. The rest could wait.
He listened to the wind and the waves for a moment, and watched the cooking fish near completion. He'd be able to feed Maria at least, which satisfied the demands of his manly pride. A silence stretched out, but it was a comfortable one (at least on his part). Words would destroy the current peace he felt, and tonight he needed that to go undisturbed. The fire hissed and spit, a smaller version of the fury that had left the nearby land ravaged. "Dovremmo andare a casa presto. I fuochi hanno lasciato questo luogo maledetto." He sat with his knees drawn up, elbows resting; as he spoke, he couldn't bring himself to look at Maria's response. This place had brought him nothing but terror and pain, and he wanted to return to the peace and sanity of his home country. But only, only if he need not return alone. [/html]
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Maria squirmed in dissatisfaction when he spoke of going home. She had wanted to go home some time ago, when they first arrived, but it was not that easy. Taking care of a child was hard enough and trying to get back did not help. She held his hand tight, pulling it into her lap and stroking against his arm. "Non posso ritornare," she said. She did not refer to it as home as he had. It had been so long and she realized home was wherever her family was. For the past few months, it was wherever Beppe was and now that Giuseppe was here, it was better. But he wanted to leave. What would she do if he left without them? Would Beppe want to go? Her head shook and she bit her lip. She wanted to stay here. It was simple here and the rest of her family, the family that disowned her, was not here. They were away in Italy where they could not harass her. "Possiamo stare qui. Possiamo essere una famiglia ancora. Qui," she pleaded, squeezing his hand. Maybe, when they were older, they could go back. But not now. And she wanted him to stay here. She wanted her lover to be by her side for a long time and she didn't want to feel the abandonment she made him feel so long ago.
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[html] Giuseppe wasn't looking at Maria as she spoke, but instead studied the flames. The thought of never returning to his homeland was distressing, but the thought of going back to that empty, hollowed house was somewhat worse. He could survive it, of course, but Maria here, holding his arm close to her own, was so much sweeter. Unconciously, he moved closer to her, so that side-by-side, their bodies touched. "Lei ciò vorrebbe? Per essere una famiglia ancora, veramente?" He turned to look at her, his dark gold eyes making a study of the expression on her face. [/html]
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The feel his body against hers once more made all her feelings rush back. She missed the nights sleeping beside him, holding each other because they were all they had. The three of them as their own family in Italy. Now they were back together and holding each other, but their circumstances were not the same. She did not want to think about that. "Sì ciò voglio," she said, honesty in her voice. Maria wanted to be with her love more than anything but she also wanted to start over here. "Possiamo ricominciare sulla costa, come Italia. Nessuna lotta con la famiglia," she said, knowing what they had been through with her family involved in their life.
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[html] The objections Giuseppe might have raised died unspoken at the back of his throat. Maria's family had always been a thorn in their sides; a very distinct roadblock on the highway to happiness. To be rid of the old patriarch's meddling would be a very real relief. His thoughts drifted briefly to his own family, with whom he still was on good terms. He was close to a sibling or two, but that was about it. He was a younger son, after all, and very few would miss him. Two obstacles down, one more looming. 'Souls was a barbarian land, rough and less civilized than the half-society found across the ocean. "Non sarà facile, vivendo qui." His unsaid words accompanied the comment, Are you sure you can handle it? It would, after all, be different from everything he had ever known. [/html]
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Giuseppe's question, had he asked when they lived in Italy, might not have hurt. She would have overlooked it but for some reason, it hurt her to be asked that. She survived so many months without him and even a month or two without her son. "Sì, Giuseppe. Ho sopravvissuto di propria iniziativa fuori qui. Ho rotto la mia gamba... e sono dipeso dalla terra," she said, her voice low, and looking up at him. It was like she was going back to her roots, almost, depending on the land to feed her rather than markets like Italy. It was different, by far, but she was ready. "Sarà più facile con lei," she added. Maria didn't want him to go back, not with out her, but she wanted to stay here and face a new set of challenges.
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Subtleties were often lost on the broad-shouldered Italian male, and the fact that he had wounded his lover escaped his notice entirely. Instead, there were two parts despair at her not needing him, but there was one part pride as well. Maria, his strong, beautiful Maria; his, whom he had no intention of sharing. "Approvazione. Approvare poi, tenteremo. Sarà un'avventura." Giu realized he had been easily swayed, a product of relief and loneliness. He also did not mind. Giu smiled, and squeezed her hand. A thousand questions might be bubbling on his tongue, but found no place in the serene evening. The fish were done cooking, and it was time to eat.
Tomorrow was a new day, and would bring around new challenges. Tomorrow, decisions would need to be made; decisions of the important and rational sort. Tonight... tonight was a night for emotion, and quiet, and peace. [/html]
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