The regal male was glad to have found the tribal pack after his months of journey. His heart filled with worry as his expedition felt for not. It felt like he was chasing a ghost but he hoped he wasn't. He couldn’t bare the thought of his niece in the spirit world. His thoughts shifted to a more positive manner. The golden female would be into her adulthood now and this worried him less for if she was anything like him she was in prime condition. He didn't know how she was doing though and this often made him sick to his stomach. He decided to explore the grounds to get his mind off of it.
When he learned of the war and seen the aftermath of it he couldn’t help but to feel he was needed here. So he put his journey on hold, honestly the male couldn’t help but to feel glad he had. The stress of it often forced him to the haze of alcohol. He mindlessly reached to his side but remembered he had left the satchel by his furs remembering it was wise to keep a clear head today. After all first impressions were what made a person. He furrowed his brow. There was a dark side to his home that he never enjoyed nor did he like to think of. He redirected his thoughts.
Maybe the golden female didn’t want to be found, he had caught whiff of her scent in certain areas of the lands but each trail would go dead. As he went further South of the mass of territory that is when he found the familiar scents that reminded him of his departed mother Juniper. The thought of her brought warmth to him, she had been so wise and knew Saxif would one day depart from the lands. She had told him so just as she had that he would be happier if he joined her. He didn’t want to give in, he felt such a huge loyalty to his brother but when Saxif left it felt like hole had ripped into him. He wasn’t whole anymore and this hurt more than leaving his home had.
He was in the center of the village when the white male took a moment to take it all in. His body was straight and proud as he moved a strand of the grey from his pale face. He crossed his arms as he glanced about with his chocolate eyes. He wondered if he would like it here, so far he adored the freedom but missed his home. The pack looked hopeful but he couldn’t help but to feel they needed far more than a helping hand.
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It had been a while since she and Matteo had been accepted into AniWaya by Claudius, the days passed by quicker here with her being able to see the sky and sun and moon's progress across it at night and day. Like a breath of fresh air it breathed life back into her and the woman no longer walked with her body crouched and her ears flattened constantly although she did show an over the top amount of respect to the others around here which had gained her a few strange looks but she didn't want to give them any chance to kick her out.
She didn't notice the light grey colored man who was looking around as she stole between the houses on her way towards the great fire. The fire had become a symbol of hope for the young beaten woman and sometimes she swore she could hear whispers from it, speaking quietly enough that she couldn't make out the words. Still she simply liked listening to the hiss and pop of the wood in the inferno, maybe in time when she was better she could help care for it but she doubted it really, they wouldn't want outsider trash like herself taking care of their beloved and sacred fire.
The scarred girl sat herself down on one of the logs nearby to the fire and rested her hands on her knees and her head on her hands, staring into the depths of the fire. Its warmth caressed her and made her feel safer than she had ever done before in her life, she felt that their spirits knew her life and knew her pain and didn't judge her for her tormented thoughts and disturbing actions. She hoped that she could heal eventually, she didn't want to stay broken her whole life. She was having one of her moments when she was aware of all her failings and the many many ways that she was messed up, she clung on to this moment with passion knowing that soon she would sink down back into her world of delusion and whorish behavior again.
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When the female came out into the open and approached the great flame, Light watched in silence with a great intrigue. The way she held herself told a lot about her as he observed her motions an opinion had begun to form. She had a tender grace to her and must do well with the males of the pack, was one of his thoughts. He silently followed the girl as she carried on her stroll unaware of the male. Her mind was else where it was clear and the expression he had briefly seen upon her face was heart breaking to the male. The thing he hated the most was seeing someone so sad and lost especially such a beautiful female. He stiffly sat next to the female as she stared into the flame unsure if she was aware of him yet. Finally after watching the flame dance before him he spoke in a deep tender voice.
Fascinating how something to beautiful could be so dangerous, so healing and inspiring all at once. Beauty of the spirits dancing in their smoke and shifting their flames, honouring the power and embracing its warmth. Other than the beauty of a girl such as you the fire is entrancing and cannot be matched. The deep spoken male kept his eyes forward watching with a stern expression. The scent of alcohol escaped upon his breath. He rarely showed emotion on his face but his words were clearly spoken with a deep yearning. The male had much in his life; skill, honour and the love of many he had left behind. The one thing though that Light yearned for was love of his own and acceptance. The loneliness often overtaking him and he would drown it out with the result of drink.
As much as he envied the girl for her beauty his interests had always lain and always would lay elsewhere. His fears of weakness a constant strain upon his body and soul made the man tired. Feeling always torn by his feelings and his need to appear normal in a pack that had always been un-accepting of difference. It was moments like this that brought him some joy, some refuge from his own mind; reaching out to someone so sad with hopes to bring a smile to her face. He wouldn’t rush the process so he remained silent motionless and stone like as the crackle of wood took over. Leaving the choice of taking an interest in his company up to her.
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So lost in her mental wanderings that the girl didn't even notice the scarred pale man sit down besides her. So busy staring into the depths of the flames that she didn't realise his presence until he began to speak to her. As he did the female looked up jerkily at him with her endless blue eyes opening wide, for he had surprised her really. A short gasp of breath made its way into her throat before she breathed it out gently, her racing heart already trying to calm itself. Her body turned as she looked at him throwing her almost bald chest and arms into perfect view, the deep lesions and welts throwing shadows in the firelight as she observed him curiously.
He didn't turn to her as he spoke opting instead to stare straight ahead into the flames as she had just been doing. The words he said, he spoke of the fire with such love and passion and then compared it to her. If she was able to the woman would have blushed as it was she felt the heat rise to the roots of her fur, perhaps a tinge of it showing on the lacking of fur on her chest and stomach, it wasn't often she got such sweet compliments, so obviously non sexual, it made her smile even as she shook her head to tell him he was wrong.
"No woman should look like me, battered and bruised, covered with shame and scars" It was all she said but it was a powerful statement that told a great deal of how she thought of herself. She shifted on the log a little guiltily, she had taken his nice comment and twisted it into badness. Her ears fell back as she realised this and her shoulders slumped down.
Light looked to the female for the first time his sense already knowing what he would see. He knew this girl the moment she spoke and a small smirk fell upon the stone expression. Sometimes it blew him away just how strong fate could be, how his blood was riddled with a power he would never understand. His mother always called him special, truly her son for they would know things far sooner than most. He set his deep brown eyes upon her blue orbs that sang with a pain and suffering he knew he would never understand. Then his eyes set forward into the flame once more. He drew out the silence between them as he pondered her words.
Scars are like a tale, each adorning one’s body a script or pictograph of your life. Some stories are not good, some filled with joy and honor. Still. They are yours and yours alone, they stain the body in ways that make one unique. Reminds me of a dream I had the night before. His deep voice developing a slightly more bass emotion. The dream he had bothered him greatly but he knew its meaning knew its message. He also knew the dream was not for him.
I dreamt of a girl, just out of puphood. Dressed in a red cape over white fur, she was pretty completely enchanting. One day she left her den with a delightful tune upon her lips. It wasn’t long before the night fell far too quickly before she was alone, so young so vulnerable in the forest filled with danger. She did not fear though, did not stop her tune that drew so many things to watch her in the forest. The eyes deep and dark her own bright and orange like the sun within the forest. She skipped her flowing cape dancing behind her. It wasn’t until he stepped out before her that she stopped singing. So trusting too easy to greet the beast before her she had no clue. His intentions dark, his claws extended and ready. I could not tell if he was a bear or a large wolf but he instilled a fear I am not accustomed to. The young girl had smiled up at him her teeth so white so bright. It wasn’t until he gripped her with such a terrible haste and vengeful grip that drew crimson from her body that she felt fear for the first time in her life. All the while he ravaged the girl, took everything innocent from her, covering her body with pain and blood she did not cry out. She loved him regardless as she did everything around her. Then I saw her body lying in the woods creatures ready to devour the poor young wolfess. Everything so white so dead of colour all but her bloodied form, her crimson cape, her eyes were even lost of colour so pale and white like a moon dying or clouds swallowing light. Then something arose, something like the snow around drew up in a large bulge of white. I could not make out this creature could not make out its form all I felt was its love, its desire. The girl stood before him her bloodied body still at their feet she was untainted unblemished in that moment as the creature spoke. “My child.” He said to her. “Fear not your pain. Fear not your blood. Fear not my child.” With that he was gone. It saddened her when her spirit filled her body once more, her pain taking hold of her. Then she felt arms around her frame as the monsters around her backed away. She was safe, she knew it. For as her body drifted over the snow in the arms of this person that loved her so dearly that she knew. Even with her pain so great, her heart so shattered she could rely on the love of others. She could really find hope in the good.
Light shrugged lightly. It was an interesting tale don’t you think? He had remained so still in that tale one would wonder if he even took a breath, his story flowing out from him like a wind endless. His voice so deep and filled with an eerie haunting that really showed how the dream bothered him so. He looked over at the female whose body was a delightful sight to the strange hunter, it eased his tensed muscles. Her missing fur exposing ever bit of her own story really making him see her as the little girl from his dream.
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To her relief he didn't seem angry that she had contradicted him in his assessment of her person. To herself Gemma was nothing special. Oh she knew people looked at her an envied, jealousy rife through their pale in comparison bodies, they stared and muttered, some lusting after the generous curves and large breasts in the manner of uncivilized beasts, some making comments and others actions with their paws, it was all pretty disgusting really, if she truly thought on it, but to herself she was nothing to envy, she knew she was beautiful but she couldn't see it herself. When she looked into a reflective surface to view her face and her hair, her luscious attributes all she could see was failure and uselessness. She saw her murdering rapist father's eyes that captured so many peoples attention with their intense expressiveness and her child abusing, hateful mother's pelt color, she was the worst of both her parents and whenever she saw herself she knew that she could never escape it.
His words made her pause to think but they still did not change her opinion of herself, she was still shamed and beaten, broken, abused. It would take a lot of work, mentally and physically before Gemma would ever think differently of herself. When her fur grew back it would hide the scars, when her body filled out again it would hide the damage, perhaps when her soul was reborn it would be whole and undamaged as well. But a concealed body was the most she would ask for at the moment. No sense taunting into whichever gods had decided her life was their toilet to shit on her even more, she couldn't take any more. The female lowered her eyes from his onto her lap where her hands twisted together in an uncomfortable grasp.
She listened to his story as he told it, his dream that he told her. She stared forwards into the fire, seeing beyond the flames and beyond the ashes and smoke into the dream he was describing, she could see herself as he was describing, a young girl with an endless love for her father and at that time her mother too, only wishing for her mother to love her back as her only dream of heart. Then everything went cold as her father's lust filled face swam before her eyes, the cries of her pain rang in her ears, the blackness had taken her and wouldn't let go. Her world had been shattered but she hid it behind smiles, and fake laughs. She was daddy's little girl and he would always want her.
Her arms crept around herself as his tale continued onwards, and she shivered a little from the cold that stirred inside of herself, an empty lost, lonely part of her. The beaten child that still didn't understand why daddy had turned so nasty, why mama hurt her so much, why Pippa and Felicity hated her and Ann was her only companion, her only light in the dark. Even the ending of his story, although she supposed it was supposed to be happy creeped her out, there were no happy endings.. period. Still his story was good and would perhaps be more entertaining to somebody who didn't relate as closely to it, she nodded weakly to his question feeling bile churning in in her gut,
"Yeah!
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