the room, the sun and the sky
#1
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Word Count → 000

Just one please!


Micah's fascination for animals followed in the direct footsteps of both his father and the hippies back in Juniper Peace, though it was much to dismay to realize it. How passionately he wished to sever all connections with that horrendous, redfaced creature of the dark and the disbelieving fools that hadn't seen the truth in he like Micah had!... but he could not separate himself from they, no, for he was too much a coward to do any such thing. They'd tried to shove leaves and tobacco down his throat, drown him in alcohol before he was of an age to handle it, pair him with women and men and creatures that were neither even before the boy knew what hung between his legs even were! How he hated them, the peace-loving demons of Juniper Peace, and yet he knew himself to be a product of them nonetheless. Like they, Micah did not know war nor bloodthirst (with the exception of Razekiel, of course), but unlike they he did not simply ignore their existence; the Junipers had masked their pacifism with song and dance and drugs, while Micah's version of pacifism was only cowering in fear and trembling worse than an earthquake.


And even though he loved the animals like the Junipers, he was no less a coward in their presence.


At times, many times, the Immaginazione would sneak to the pack's stables and barns and look at them from afar, where he was safe, where his thin and frail and shaking form could not be trampled into the dirt and left to rot amongst the worms. On this day, he encountered a small flock of sheep while en route to town; naturally, Micah hid and watched the cottonballs graze for some time, climbing into a tree out of fear they'd get too close carrying whatever disease it was sheep carried. For a long while the Immaginazione watched from his hiding place, too afraid to move, too panicked to make a sound. When one curious sheep found him, leaned his forehooves against the trunk and baaahed up at him, the salt-and-pepper boy was so illogically startled that he lost his balance and toppled quite unceremoniously out of the tree in a flurry of cracking branches and flying leaves. Landing on his back after the short fall, the boy oomphed audibly and lay there a moment, dazed. The sheep circled and attempted next to eat his hair, and thus began a painful game of tug-and-war between stubborn sheep and pathetic, whining Micah.


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#2
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I'm sorry. I had to do this. Yes, with this table too. xD It's just such a derpy moment.


Sky's mind was in a flurry of thoughts and concerns, not to mention unwelcome but familliar voices. Ever since Shawchert had come home (she'd allowed him a place to stay in one of the spare bedrooms until he found a new place to live in, refusing to let up on him so easily) she'd spent as little time at home as possible, usually seen wandering the town when her ex was at home or out in the forest. She'd taken up hunting again, something she'd stopped doing upon returning to CdA, at least for a time. Sometimes old habits were the best to take one's mind off of worries.

Being in her secui form felt... odd. She'd hidden her clothes nearby under a bush to save them from damage during the hunt, stalking the prey in lupus form and making the catch as a secui beast. She now walked along in optime form, the doe she'd caught tied up in a sack and hauled along behind her. She'd been thinking with her eyes again, her stomach unable to handle the huge kill. So Sky had decided to bring it back for the pack; at least they'd find a use for it, so it wouldn't go to waste.

As she marched along the pathway home, she heard something... interesting. Baying, like sheep... and whining? A baffled expression crossed her face and she hauled the doe off the path towards where the sound was coming from. Soon enough she came across... an interesting sight. A sheep... eating a wolf.

Sky dropped the kill and crossed her arms, brows pinched together but risen in utterly baffled confusion. After a few moments of silently watching this, she smirked. The herd was hovering nearby, watching with sheepy interest, not really moving away despite the two wolves present. Brave sheep. She thought with amusement before reaching into her bag and hauling out a rope.

Tying the rope into a loop, she came up around behind the offending critter and tsked her tongue against her teeth, to catch its attention before looping the rope around its neck and holding it steady. Once sure the sheep was done with its 'meal', she smirked down to the dark-furred male, obviously amused and fully prepared to tease him if he proved friendly enough.

I fought it off. You're safe now. She mused, voice ringing teasingly, beautifully as usual. I must admit, I've never seen a wolf being hunted by a sheep before. What's it like to be a herbivor's dinner? Oh Sky, you mean old nasty, you. Stop teasing the poor boy.


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#3
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BAHAHAHAHA. Also, yay it's you! <3


Of course Micah was embarassed — Micah was always embarrassed — but to be fighting a losing battle to a creature made of cotton earned a place somewhere near the top of his most humiliating moments. Behind when he'd fallen on Evelyn, definitely. And behind when he'd fallen in the river that one time... and that other time, with the panic attack — no, wait, not that panic attack, the other one. Yeah, definitely after that one, but maybe the first, too...


To his aid came a woman of great spunk and beauty, and within seconds she openly mocked him and smirked the most cruel of smiles, or naturally that was how Micah would interpret it. His viciously curling mop of white-streaked hair now freed from the sheep's grasp, the cowardly Lykoi peered up at the Katruk with a terrible frown; in his expression lingered no signs of amusement nor skepticism at being mocked. No, there was only fear and embarrassment, and had his ivory-flecked onyx coat not so thickly covered the skin beneath, she might have seen him glow red as the setting sun. Chocolate eyes searched elsewhere, the boy stuttered a long moment as he attempted to apologize, or greet her, or thank her, or something, he didn't even know what, but nothing in the line of choked noise was intelligible enough to be a word. Eyes on the ground, he got up slowly — more to make sure he did not fall, for his knees knocked something awful and his body shook as if his pounding heart was enough to rattle him like an earthquake.


"I-I-I, y-y-y-you , I-I-I, y-y-y-you, u-u-ummm," he mumbled, hiding quickly behind saliva-soaked bangs, his fingers wiggling within each other. "I-I-I'm s-so, so sorry, I-I didn't mean to in-inconvenience you— I-I-I mean, n-not that I-I didn't appreciate it, I-I just... I, um... I..."


The tremors that shook his bones suddenly grew worse, and in his stomach was a nausea great enough to drive him running for fear she'd have to watch him throw up, if only he could get his legs to move... Should he leave? Should he stay, because he was grateful? She hated him. She had to hate him, he was such a fool. Somewhere drifting about was Storm Lily's cackling laughter, and in her ghostly whispers were insults a thousand times worse than any Sky could offer.

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#4
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WC:000+ - Aaand back to a more normal table. :3

When the poor tagic boy finally stopped squirming long enough to get up, Sky thought maybe he'd come to his senses. She was wrong; it only led up to a series of stuttered apologies and thank-you's... at least, that was what she figured he was saying. She could've sworn she'd heard a 'sorry' and 'appreciate' in there somewhere. She couldn't help but smile with almost youthful amusement. This was totally something her late beloved would've ended up doing, back when she was a younger wolf. Now she looked at the dark male with almost a fond glint in her amused blue eyes, if only for the fonder memory of her deceased love he gave her.

Cool your jets, Sparta. I'm just teasin', is all. She smiled ironically and tilted her head slightly. As D'Arte's Medic, it would've been unfortunate for me as well as you if you'd been hurt, let alone in my company. A logical answer but spoken almost dryly, as if she were biting her tongue for something else not to be said. An insult, maybe, but probably not for the sheep-bitten male here. No, just one of the voices getting their say in. That's all that would be. Crazy Shaman Sky was known for such tendancies lately, making her a right terrible hero type.

You sheep-tamer is called Sky, by the way. Sky Katruk. I assume by your scent that you belong to my pack. It wasn't a question and her suspicious sapphire eyes coldly dared him to admit otherwise. She wasn't the wolf you wanted to run into if you happened to be an intruder on D'Arte's lands. That temper was dangerous and her suspicious nature made it all the more lethal at times.

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#5
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Even despite all his stuttering and utterly making a complete fool of himself, she was not upset with him — or, at least she didn't seem it. That look in her eyes harbored such a warm fondness that he was not at all sure what to do with himself or how to react to it. He was used to that sort of look, in a way, for his sisters always possessed eyes full of love no matter who they looked at. This Sky, as she introduced herself to be, was not one of the hippie sisters however, and thus he was petrified with confusion.


He bowed his head, still playing nervously with his fingers. "I-I-I'm Micah," he mumbled at the ground. "M-Micah Lykoi, ma'am, I-Immaginazione... I, um... Th-thank you for your help, I just... um..."


He trailed off a moment, his body trembling more vigorously once again as he searched his thoughts for words that would make him seem less an idiot. She was a medic? Surely she was smart, brilliant even, and what was he? A silly shaking boy with a can of paint. He felt inferior, heartbreakingly inferior; what use was a skill like his? Did he even have an impact on the pack he called home? Did they even know he exist? Worse of all, did Skye regret allowing him to stay?


"I-I-I'm just a painter," he shrugged, staring still at the ground. "I-I wish I was a medic, b-but I can't even get away from a sheep... I'm not really good at anything... I-I'm sorry for i-inconveniencing you, m-ma'am, I won't do it again..."

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#6
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WC:000+ - Derp.

Micah. He was a visual artist, by his rank's meaning. Also a confirmed member of the pack. Polite and shy, nervous for little reason, or so she thought. That dangerous look in sapphire eyes faded and she eased up a bit, giving the sheep she held a firm tug when it tried to wander away. She allowed him a moment to collect himself before he spoke again, shrugging and hiding his eyes from her. His words told her he was envious, maybe even shamed by his own rank. Then he apologized again and her ears flicked, showing very slight irritation. She wasn't as patient as she used to be.

Relax, Micah. She tsked, her tongue clicking against her teeth due to the piercing there. Don't sell yourself short, either. I maybe be a medic by my co-rank but I'm a singer first. She admitted, though she felt a tug at her chest mentioning it. She hadn't really preformed in a long time, not since the... incident. D'Arte's made for the creative creatures. Being a painter is a skill worth some pride. It's something not many wolves can actually manage past stick figures. She mused, smiling wisely.

She glanced over at the sheep crowding nearby, wondering where they'd come from. I'll bring a few back for the barn. Surely their wool will come in handy. She thought clearly, for once. The hair-muncher she held bayed its protest to being tied up, though she ignored it; sheep were apparently much more docile than her goat back home, Casper. At least these things didn't have horns.

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#7
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Replying readily to this thread because I likes it and I need more Micah posts. Big Grin Hope that's okay!


The kindness in her eyes had apparently been set to a timer, and with the clucking of her tongue the kindly look within them vanished. He ducked further behind his curls, ashamed of himself, ashamed to be wasting her time. Why didn't she just leave? He wasn't worth conversation, no, wasn't worth a second of attention from someone who important, so beautiful, so headstrong and capable, all unlike he. Brown eyes looked ever so desolately at her from between his white-streaked curls, a gaze of subdued distress and utter shame. I'm so worthless.


"Y-y-yes, you're right," he mumbled, forcing a small smile with as little honest heart behind it as his words had. Don't make her mad, Micah; she'll have you sent away, and then you'll go hungry again... Her name is the same as Skye's, after all... Smile and nod, just like back in Juniper...


Swallowing a lump in his throat, he searched for words to shape into some sort of decent conversation. "I like the sheep," he blurted suddenly, only then realizing how stupid it sounded. Visibly wincing at his own stupidity, the boy followed up with an increasingly vibrating voice, as the tremors in his bones picked up with the onslaught of anxiety. "I-I mean, they're calm and quiet and n-n-nice to watch, b-but... I-I fell out of the tree and it got me, I-I just... I really didn't want to hurt her, so I-I thought she might just give up if I kept pulling... I'm just not very good with animals.." Indeed, the rope around the sheep's neck was more brutish than Micah would have ever attempted, but he was grateful for the rescue nonetheless.

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#8
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WC:000+ - Big Grin Fine with me! I love posts!

When Micah responded to her 'pep talk', it was dishonest and obviously so, at least to the wolfdog. She'd spent her entire life looking past the outer shells of people to find the truth behind their words. It was something she was good at. She could tell a person what every flick of an ear meant, why she didn't like the whole dominance display with eye contact, things like that. But she left it for now. The boy was simply anxious and small and it would take more than some pep talk to fix that.

Then he spoke again and she flicked her ears, blue eyes back on his face. She opened her mouth to reply to his comment but he started stuttering again. She gave him a thoughtful look, as if debating on something. When he finished, she grinned. Not hard to learn. Why don't we strike up a little deal, Micah? She brought a hand down to the sheep beside her, touching its ears gently. I've got a pet goat back home and I help tend to the barn on my spare time. Why don't you take this hair muncher to the barn, where we can get her used to us and I can teach you the ins and outs of it?

Of course, this wasn't the only one she'd grab. The entire flock seemed perfect for the pack, plenty of wool and meat. She eyed them and grinned even wider, an expression almost worthy of Bangle, Skye's mate. And while you take this one back... I'll round up the rest. We could use the extra livestock and wool. She smiled wryly, glad to have some dog in her for once. Herding the small flock of sheep would be easy, even alone.

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#9
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Feel free to PP them to wherever they're goin'. ^^


Vaguely reassured, the Immaginazione emerged forth from the tangle of curls that hid him so well. No, he did not understand why Sky was still taking the time to speak with him, nor had his curiosity why she would bother with him at all cease in the least. She suggested a deal; a puzzled, fearful look crossed his features instantaneously, expecting something cruel or harsh to try to "shape him up," but it occurred to him slowly she meant no harm. An offer to show him the pack's barn, to meet her pet and make nice with the sheep who had so difficultly pursued him — Micah shook amidst his thoughts, worried whether he could accomplish anything at all that she so subtly wished him to.


He noted the strange look she sent the rest of the flock — hungry, envious even — but could not even begin to guess her thoughts, thus he remained silent.


"I... I don't know, ma'am," he mumbled, occupying his eyes with the flock rather than her own. She'd given him things to do, but what was there in return? Personal growth? Even Micah knew he needed it, but he was much too fearful to do anything about it on his own. "I... I can try, I-I guess..." Sheepishly and with trembling fingers he took the line from her, stumbling away quickly when the cottonball drew in close. As if teasing the poor helpless fool, the sheep began to follow him about, always scattering the boy away despite the rope that held the two together.


"Le-le-lead the wa-wa-way," Micah gurgled somewhere in between.

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