dreams and fears must collide.
#1
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Word Count: 504

For Hadley. Dated 23 February; continuation of Part I in Ethereal Eclipse. Let me know if the power-play isn't okay.

★ ★ ★


They arrived at the stables in one piece, some time later. The ride had been somewhat arduous, with multiple resting points, and Grace was more than happy to be home when they got there. She rubbed her horses down well, thanking them in soft tones, and fed and watered them. Then she led Hadley into her home, a small building that she had only recently constructed.


It was two rooms - one to serve as a living-room and bedroom of sorts, and one for storage and her small hydroponics system. To one side, a large, handmade, down mattress held her assortment of blankets, pillows, and pelts. A small wooden stand sat beside it, with a worn wooden jewelry box and an oft-mended, leather-bound book sitting atop it. In another section was a small table with two chairs, obviously freshly built, and against a wall was a book shelf, half-full of damaged and repaired books, manuals, scrolls, and leather folders full of loose pages. Trinkets sat on the shelves, many made of turquoise, wood, and shells, most of which were well-kept but not new, but one of which - a small wooden carving in light pine, depicting a luperci with small, turquoise stones for eyes, sitting in meditation - looked fresh as well. This house had been finished mere days ago, and the scent of cut wood was heavy throughout the house.


Grace inhaled gratefully as she stepped inside, pulled off her tan suede coat and hung it on a rack near the door. "Home sweet home. It's new; I just moved here, and I wanted to be nearer to the stable. I'll probably expand it later, but for now, it's just right." She walked to the storage room door and opened it. The room was adapted to her normal use, with storage to one side and underneath her growing system, and the plants high enough that she could only access them with a small ladder, to avoid her knocking them over when she was in a hurry. She pulled a thinner mattress-roll from one side of the storage - the one that she had used on the road, since carrying one like the one that she had made for her home would have been foolish. She put it down near hers, but not too near to make them uncomfortable, and added a couple of pillows and a blanket. "You will sleep here. You're safe now." She sat down on the edge of her mattress. What a long day it had turned out to be!


Taj went to her side. In his beak, he caried a small, cloth bag, dyed purple with beading and a yellow, hemp drawstring. He perched on her shoulder so that she could take the bag. Out of it, she pulled a small wooden pipe, and pressed some green plant matter into it. She lit it with a small, metal lighter from the same bag, and then offered it to Hadley. "Smoke with me, brotha. We're friends now. And you're free."


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#2
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OOC Laughs

The travel had been rather stressful for Hadley. They'd stopped at various points to rest, mainly consisting of Hadley being able to relax his tension from holding onto the horse and bouts of panic about what he was actually doing. At times Hadley considered just turning around and heading back, but his sense of direction was so turned around at this point that he couldn't. Hadley had no choice but to continue on the path he had chosen and trust the stranger he'd given his life to. Passing through a strange pack's borders had him shivering a little until they reached the stable.

The horses were put away with much care, Hadley helping along the best that he could. He did know somewhat about horses, though he was no expert. Just basic care and feed mainly. Obediently he followed Grace to a house, the wood still smelling freshly cut. Hadley looked around the simple building carefully. This is where he'd stay until he was free. Hadley moved and sat down onto the thin mattress, wishing that there was a space he could squeeze into to escape the nightmares. A bag and pouch was passed over. The familiar smell of weed reached him, and Hadley accepted it nervously. He took a deep drag before passing it over, letting the high begin to set in. Grace still seemed really weird to him, but that was alright. It was alllll good.

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#3
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Word Count: 580

Haha, how much experience do you have with weed?


★ ★ ★


Cannabis had always been a part of Grace's life. She could remember her father smoking it from his pipe when she was very young, with her sitting on his lap, still too young to shift. He had blown the smoke into her face, very gently, and chuckled when she coughed softly and shook her head, her nose wrinkled in surprise. 'Do you like that, Gracie?' he had asked, and she had taken the most indignant tone that anyone had ever heard from her. 'My name, Pa, is Grace! You should call a thing by its proper name.' She had been quoting her parents, who had never encouraged poor speech, even at a young age. He had seemed surprised, but that was quite simply that - she didn't care for nicknames, and that hadn't changed as she had gotten older. Neither had her cannabis usage. Her first shift had marked an occasion: she was a week earlier with it than her brother, and hadn't really tried too terribly hard. He had tried all the next week, when he thought that he was alone, and she had watched, sad that he was so resentful. She had hoped that they could learn together, but that just hadn't been how it had happened.


The day that Gabriel finally managed, even that had been overshadowed by the completion of Grace's first cannabis pipe, the same that she still used, a masterpiece by her father. Gabriel was given one as well, of course - a much less ornate, more "masculine" pipe. The only advantage over Grace's was that the bowl was bigger, customary for a male. She got the idea that Gabriel didn't like how differently they were treated, particularly by their father, who had always favoured Grace for her bubbly, charming, quirky personality, and her intuitive inventor's mind. It hadn't been fair, but Gabriel had their mother, who showed nothing besides dismay at the way Grace developed under her father's watchful eye. Their mother had always approved more of Gabriel, who didn't break the mould, who didn't step out of line. Grace was always pushing limits, trying new things, a trait that her innovative father had loved, and her traditional mother had despised. She couldn't help it, and she didn't really see it as a problem that they saw the world differently. She couldn't change her mother, and wouldn't want to, and her mother couldn't change her. It was better to just accept it and be at peace.


She took her pipe back and hit it, leaning back into her pillows and sighing on exhale. It was nice to be home, to relax. She looked up at Taj, who was now perched on her head. "Taj, moĭ drug, would you get me some cured meat?" The crow looked at her and cawed pointedly. "Oh, fine, yes, have a piece too." She then looked at Hadley. "Are you hungry, honey? I just cured some strips of rabbit and squirrel, and I have some cured salmon left, I think." Grace was a poor hunter, but she could catch small game, and she preserved much of it, so that she had food when she didn't care to go out and catch any, or when game was scarce. "There's plenty to share, so just tell Taj what your fancy is. He understands." That reminded her - he had actually spoken earlier. She would have to see what was up with that tomorrow. Tonight, she wanted to rest.


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#4
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OOC none. it show?

He was feeling much more relaxed as Grace took a puff on the pipe. He watched as if hypnotized, eyes mesmerizing his shape. She was a very beautiful lady, even if she didn't realize it. Trying to control himself and behave Hadley turned his head to look at the ground. It wouldn't do for him to treat her with disrespect. The bird flew over, landing on her head in a very comical sight. He chuckled quietly to himself as she asked the bird for some meat. Lazily she leaned over, asking if he wanted anything. Meat in general is good. I feel like I'm starving! Which most likely was because he partly was, not eating very properly. He looked at the bird with a soft smile. Will you fetch some for me?

Carefully he reached over, taking the pipe to smoke some more. The lazy haze of it drifted through the air as he leaned back, looking at the ceiling. He returned it to Grace with a polite smile, doing his best to be polite. You certainly did well picking out a place for yourself. Hadley shivered a little, trying to push the small feeling of dismay creeping through his body. He really shouldn't have been so relaxed, but it was so easy to talk, to allow the drug to enter his system and relieve the tension running through him. He needed to be at ease, without a care in his mind.

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#5
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Word Count: 423

A little. Wink Slight powerplay.


★ ★ ★


Grace was no longer accustomed to having canine company. She had been traveling with Layla and Taj for some time, and she found unusually quiet and thoughtful as she chewed on cured meat delivered by Taj. The crow also gave some to Hadley, and together they chewed quietly. Grace zoned out for a moment, thinking about this and that, not able to track her thoughts for very long. She finished eating and wiped her hands on a hand-kerchief from her pocket, then offered it to Hadley. This was one of the few habits that she had really picked up from her mother. "Thank you. I built it myself, just this past weekend." She smiled pleasantly. She liked compliments.


Placing her pipe on the bedside stand, she got up and started looking around the room for some object. After some wandering and looking in the storage room, she returned with a long, wooden flute of sorts. She sat on the bed and began to play, soft and slow, and let herself go in the music. Her mother had taught her to play the ney, as part of her very conservative "female" training. Her mother had wanted so much from her that she couldn't give... including, but not limited to, adhering to lessons meant traditionally for girls, and taking on a very gendered role in the pack. She wouldn't consent to her mother choosing her husband, which her father had agreed with whole-heartedly. She supposed that her mother hadn't known that he would agree with Grace, because she had seemed frustrated and exasperated by the conversation, but it had been dropped.


Because really, Mikhail had known that the only one that his daughter had a passion for was Briar Rose, and even that, a very special passion indeed. These days, Grace had no interest in relationships, at all. Only friendships, with her own kind and with her creatures. No desire for pups; she had too much left to experience. She was too young for these things, even if she was of age by most standards. She could bear a litter, but she had no want of it. Just to spend her time training horses and learning as much as she could. Someday, she would be ready, and then she would have the entire world to share with her offspring, just as her father had shared with her. But not yet. At present, she brought her song to a close, lowering the ney slowly, and smiled. Yes, this place was a good one for her, indeed.


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#6
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OOC i'm just writing it as it feels like when im really really tired. i should probably mention, when he's out of it he basically resorts to his personality before being a slave, consisting on flirting with everything on two legs and being extremely cocky


Meat was given to Hadley, and he quickly finished the pieces, silencing his stomach. It was much better that that happened, allowing him to concentrate on other things. Such as the fact that he wanted another hit. Hadley took the pipe again, taking a deep puff. Slowly he blew it out, listening as she explained that she'd been the one to build it. His eyes widened in surprise, pleased at the news. You must be very clever with your hands. Wish I could do such a thing. Being able to make stuff would be very nice, instead of simply being a burden.


Music was brought over, and Hadley's eyes closed as he listened to the music, winding through the air. It was so beautiful, brushing around him. If he reached out his hand it was almost like he'd be able to touch it, the way that it altered the atmosphere like something tangible. Or it might just be the smoke. Smiling at the thought he sat up again. He looked over at Grace, again admiring her beautiful body, the way the silver and white flowed together. You are a very beautiful creature, you know that? If only his body was unmarred, then he might be able to see himself next to her.


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#7
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Word Count: 338

Haha, that works well enough. I think she'll probably go to sleep at this point, since she's really weird about flirtations, and she's exhausted. You can reply once more to this, and then perhaps I'll give a closing reply. BUT, we should have a follow-up thread, so that he can get sorted around. Who should start that one?


★ ★ ★


The difference between cannabis and other drugs, Grace had once thought, was that cannabis enhanced the spirits and personalities of almost anyone, while most other drugs, including that godawful alcohol that her brother liked to drink with his friends, lowered spirits and disintegrated normally pleasant personalities. Grace always felt better when she was smoking, although it didn't change her as readily as it changed others in her life. She was naturally pleasant and outgoing, and she liked to socialize. Her father - a shy, reserved male when sober - became much more apt to share his ideas and insights. Her mother - usually a worrying, uptight female - became more relaxed and open-minded. Her brother - an anxious, restrained young boy - became charismatic and personable. She'd never met anyone who wasn't enhanced by cannabis, and this male seemed to be no exception. And of course, why should he be?


Grace watched the boy's apprehensive, guarded behaviour dissipate in the smoke. He seemed to relax, and his compliments were flattering. She chuckled softly, looking down a little. She knew that he was flirting with her, but all she could think of was Briar. Whether or not she had made a promise not to hold back from others because of what they'd had, she couldn't do it. Not yet. She needed time to be herself, to find her bearings away from her best friend, her partner in crime... She sighed softly and smiled at Hadley, touching his check gently. "Honey, you're too sweet. Now, you must be exhausted. I know I am." Her voice didn't leave space for disagreement: she had said it so pleasantly, and so assuredly, that certainly, arguement was unnecessary. She put away her pipe and blew out her candles, then curled up in bed.


"Good night, Hadley," she said softly. "Sleep well. Tomorrow will be a busy day. Taj, don't rouse Hadley in the morning - the boy needs his rest." The crow gave a caw of agreement, and Grace closed her eyes to sleep.


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#8
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OOC I can start it since you did the last two

Carving definitely seemed to be an activity worth getting involved in. It would make him a lot more useful to the pack, instead of just doing what he was asked to do. Remembering that he'd fled from the pack Hadley realized that he no longer needed to strive to make himself useful in some way, that he no longer needed to fear being thrown away. It was a strange, lonely feeling. There wasn't a master anymore, no pack that he had to work for. Just himself, completely alone. It was terrifying, realizing that he was on his own. With no real worth Hadley didn't know what to do with himself. Maybe he should have never left.

His eyes drifted over to Grace, for a moment seeing Selene sitting there, warm and welcoming. A soft shy smile covered his face before her words reached him, shattering the illusion. He nodded his head and curled up on the mattress, the weed allowing him to ignore the feeling of being far too exposed. Yes master. It was a habit, acknowledging the command. It wasn't long before his eyes drifted shut, and Hadley fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

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#9
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Word Count: 316

Awesome, thanks.


★ ★ ★


Grace had been a master before. Not to another canine; oh, no, certainly not. But she was Layla's mistress, and the same for Faris, and she was the horse-mistress for the pack. She knew what the title entailed, and for a split second, it didn't seem inaccurate. But it should be, she reminded herself. Just because Hadley was lost without direction, and just because she happened to be supplying the support for him to learn to direct himself, did not give her such a title. Helping does not a master make; power is what a master seeks, and Grace sought no power over Hadley. He had given her power, yes, but she had no intentions of keeping it. She would gladly return it to him when he was ready to hold it on his own.


What had her father called it, when he was teaching her? Scaffolding? Yes, that was it. First, the master does and the apprentice watches. Then, the master does and the apprentice helps. After that, the apprentice does and the master helps. By the end, the apprentice does, and the master only watches. That was what she was doing for him. Showing him the way. That didn't make her like that wretched yellow dog - she doubted that there was a helping bone in that girl's body. She shook the feeling of frustration off and sighed softly. It would do her no good to think of that now. She really needed to sleep. Tomorrow would certainly be tiring, and she was already exhausted.


Though she was quite sure that Hadley had already fallen asleep, she whispered a reply to him in the dark. "I am not your master, Hadley. I am your friend." Whether he had heard her, she may never know. But she felt better having said it, and she closed her eyes and followed him into the depths of sleep.


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