[html]  There were a few days of a smoky kind of phantasmagoria, with skies and seas of strange colors, and now the rains came. They brought with them the usual smell of fresh air, pulled down from the sky, but also brought the smoke that had been lingering among the clouds. It wasn't strong, not enough to cause the coughing and the hacking and the red eyes, but it was just enough to remind the young boy of what had happened weeks ago. The last moments of Icarus' life had been playing through his dreams, and needless to say, Beppe had not been sleeping well.
The return of his father made Beppe's new life feel even more incongruous. He didn't know the large male very well before the boy and his mother left him, and felt like he had a lot to make up for. The younger wolf was the reason they had been separated, after all, he had been the cause of what was, doubtless, a good few months of perturbation for both his mother and his father. Now that they were back together and Beppe could see through more mature eyes, he knew that family didn't necessarily bring the utopian ideals he had thought it would. There was too much change too quickly, and the boy was in a state of internal turmoil.
He had wandered from the house they were staying in, stood in front of it and stared across the sea. If they were still in Italy, they would have never even heard of the fire, and there would never have been this tension between him and his father, or between his parents. The boy tried to push these thoughts from his mind, but on such a dismal day it was difficult to focus on the finer things. The sky was a dreary gray, filled with rain clouds and smoke, and the sand on the beach beneath had turned into a gritty paste.
Non essere cosi pessimista, he thought, don't be so pessimistic. Beppe's chest heaved as he sighed, and, blinking the rain off his eyelashes, he sat down on the grass and dangled his legs over the side of the bluff.
Oh, how he would like to turn rain into shine.
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Everything here was so new to the fragile and frightened Montidora. She did not know whether or not she liked it or not, or even trusted it. Everything was too good right now to be possible. She figured she had a bad fall and hit her head, and was now in a deep sleep. At least it was a good dream. She dreaded to really wake. Reality was far too cruel to want to wake up from this paradise. She blinked her red eyes warily, head raising from the comfortable pillow. She had stretched out her childish, puppy body- it had been strewn across the bed carelessly. By now she was a bit healthier looking, but her ribs had yet to be hidden.
She moved out of the bed and crept outside, needing the fresh air. As a wolf by blood, being caged never felt too good to her, especially having been in the open all her life. She saw another figure, one who looked like Maria, but a little bigger, more masculine. Her eyes scanned him in a timid manner before she crept away, ignoring the rain thrashing on her soft skin. The rain dribbled off of her eyes, onto her chin, and then off in an instant. Her paw-pads spread apart to gain more able-footing across the ground, being a very clumsy child she had to be careful. She was lanky and her legs were always getting in the way. She managed to stumble over herself and bash her chin into the ground, letting out a loud cry, but silencing herself afterwards. On her own she realized that crying led predators to you and she was unable to fend for herself. Not even for a second did she think that this individual would ever try and help her out if worse came to worse, because no one else ever had.
She had grown up living life alone. So alone, in fact, that she did not know true love, care, or warmth. Marias kindness was but a dream to her, a blurry, confusing one that she was still trying to understand.
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[html] The sound of rain had a way of swallowing almost everything else, and as Beppe stared resolutely across the ocean he didn't realize that there was another walking behind him. Water hitting stones made sounds like footsteps, and he had become accustomed to it. In this lazy state of being, the sound of real footfall was hidden.
What wasn't hidden, though, was the cry that escaped the younger wolf. The Italian boy twisted his body around to see what had uttered it, seeing a rather timid looking young girl. He didn't recognize her, and hadn't heard of his new room mate from either of his parents, and so for a moment he simply peered. The morning and the rain made him a bit confused.
"Hello," he said at length, gentle as ever.
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