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He had been going down these empty streets when he had first considered the possiblity that he might be different. Sirius knew that there somet hings that he and his brother Apollo had in common, like their tempers and habits, but other than that they couldn't be any more different. He'd moved away from Twilight Vale to try something new, to live with his father in his pack...but things weren't going the way he'd planned. He almost couldn't stand living there.
There was something wrong with him, maybe, something that he couldn't put his thumb on. He knew what a coyote was...he'd grown up knowing to be wary of them. So how could he be one of them? He wasn't evil...and he usually didn't try to hurt anyone for no reason. He didn't belong there. But at the same time...he felt that maybe he did. He looked so much like one of them.
The three month old looked around at the abandoned buildings. He'd have to find something to take his mind off of things...something really fun.
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Laurel is turning into me talking to my cats. Lyrics from this song, haha.
[html] “Warehouses seem to sound like they have the best acoustics,” he said to no one in particular, just the pigeons in the rafters. “Don't ask me why, I couldn't tell you if I wanted to, but I just like the way that they sound when you screw around with something you've never played with before.” To that effect, he pushed the accordion together and let it play whatever note came out first. In truth, Laurel had screwed around with an accordion before; he could play it if he tried, but usually he didn't. It wasn't his favourite thing in the world but it had been too hard to pass up when he had been rummaging around in a house somewhere. It was beat up, scuffed and well loved by the looks of it, and now a rotten banjo playing coyote had gotten his hands on it.
“And it's a really doozy to try and play when you're drunk, so many buttons to push!” Which was the point when he had simply set it aside, putting it back in the box he had found it in and had been dragging it around for the past half hour in, looking for a very place like he had. The pigeons in the rafters eyed the strangely dressed coyote, watching him with beady eyes as he lifted his banjo and hastily pulled the strap over his head, fingers finding the strings to play the chords to a song in a much more upbeat way like the tone of his voice in song. “This is the story of your gypsy uncle, you never knew ‘cause he was dead—an’ how his face was carved an’ ripped with wrinkles in the picture in your head.” [/html]
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He could hear the sounds nearby, and they intrigued him. Sirius wasn't one to stay in a place unless he found something to keep him there; he enjoyed travelling, and liked to do what he pleased. He'd liked life with his father for a while, but now he was getting bored living there, too. Pilot was interesting, and all, but Sirius needed something more. He felt like the borders were always calling him.
Sirius found a hole in the wall of the complex and padded inside, green eyes watching carefully ahead of himself for any broken nails or glass. Those kinds of things were all over the city, and he didn't want to get hurt. Not when he was trying to run away. He climbed through the many beams of the wall until he reached an area near the ceiling, where he found another hole. He poked his head out of this one, looking down from his viewing point.
What was that coyote doing? He'd never seen anything like it. The youth didn't want to look like this impressed him; he wanted it to seem like he knew that creatures could do this kind of thing. He hated it when people thought he was stupid. So he kept quiet, just watching. There were pigeons everywhere, and he scooted some out of the way as he made his way across one of the rafters, looking at Laurel from a point almost directly above him.
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*makes laurel paste together songs now* Third paragraph crap is from thissun. XD;
[html] “And remember how you fund the key to his hide out in the Pyrenees, but you wanted to keep his secret safe… so you threw the key away,” he sang on, oblivious to the fact that by now he had drawn in a listener. His voice went quiet nonetheless, simply playing on with the focus and the study of someone who should have been playing in front of a crowd at an orchestra with an instrument that was meant to be played there. Regardless of that fact, he hummed through the next part of the verse that he couldn't recall on the spot, meandering around in the building.
It wasn't until he turned around to spy out the pigeons from before that he noticed the boy; a look of surprise on his face soon faded to a warm smile. He twisted the song he had been singing around to something else without a pause, olive-tinted eyes not leaving the boy watching from his precarious position in the rafters.
“Your arms full of lullabies, orchids, and wine; your memories wrapped within paper and twine, while the room that you lie in is dusty and hard. Sleeping soft babies on piles of yards of gingham, taffeta, cotton an’ silk… your dry hungry mouths cry for your mother's milk.” At that point, he stopped playing for the time being. “You should come down from there before you fall, or at least before the pigeons think you're theirs.” [/html]
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You can say where he lands, if you want, or I can in my next post 
He saw that he had been spotted and he frowned. Great. He had been hoping that he might be able to observe this one without being seen, enjoying the feeling of secrecy, and now it was all ruined. He began edging back along the beam, heading for the hole in the wall so that he could get back down to the ground. Maybe he could make a quick escape, and this coyote would forget that he'd even been there at all. Sirius figured that he could watch from a different viewing point later on, if the guy stayed.
His plans were once again thwarted as he took a wrong step, paw catching a nail in the board. He pulled it back instinctively and it put him off balance. The small male twisted for a second, claws scrabbling, but it was no use. He was going to fall. He closed his eyes, waiting for it.
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Hope you don't mind if Laurel catches him instead. >_>;
[html] Maybe he shouldn't have opened his mouth, maybe then he wouldn't have jinxed the whole thing into happening. Laurel was just beginning to pull the strap of the banjo over his head when he caught the distinctive wobble in the boy's step. By the time the kid had totally lost his balance and started to fall from the rafters of the warehouse ceiling, he had already dropped the banjo to the floor with a noisy clatter. There was ever a sense of urgency in his quick steps, the hitch in his breath as his arms outstretched to catch him. Of course, Laurel hadn't really been expecting the real weight of a half-grown coyote either; he almost lost his own balance in the process. But at the last moment, he managed not to topple over, switching the hold he had on the boy to hold him careful by the scruff on his neck regardless of how uncomfortable it would have been to set him on the dusty floor. With his pulse thundering in his ears starting to quiet down, he also found his voice. “You okay, kid?” [/html]
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Sure!
He struggled when he realized that someone had a hold on him, twisting his body to get out of Laurel's arms. "I had the situation under control." He huffed. Sirius figured that the most he would have gotten was a broken leg, which he'd heard didn't hurt -that- bad...or maybe some scratch or something. But now he wouldn't have any neat scars or broken bones to tell about.
The copper tinged male looked up at the older one, frowning. "I'm fine. Thanks to you." There was an agitated edge to his voice, and he struggled once more to be put down. "What's a freaky guy like you doing in here anyway? And what's that weird machine you were holding?"
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Oh, a freaky guy was he? Laurel snorted, take a bit off guard by such a sudden insult but shook it off for the fact that well, he did look a bit freaky. Pants-wearing, he had a hat, yeah, he was definitely pretty freaky. “Warehouses have the best acoustics,” he simply stated, “and this thing isn't a machine, it's an instrument that plays music. A banjo, specifically.” To show him what it was from a better point, Laurel wandered back over to pick it up, and dusted it off. “So what's a freaky kid like yourself doing here, anyway?” Amusingly enough, he didn't mind turning that question back around on the boy.
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He had no idea what "acoustics" were, or that they had anything to do with what the male had been doing with that machine. He couldn't tell what the thing was made of, wood, metal....but it sure looked strange. "What's music?" He demanded, looking up at him from his point on the ground. Sirius shrugged when asked what he was doing here. He wandered a lot, really, looking for adventures and new people. Mostly he was looking for coyotes. "I have been staying nearby. I heard some weird sounds and came over to investigate."
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Laurel whistled at the boy response with a certain tinge of surprise. “You really must be from a backwoods kind of place if you don't know what music is. Music is that strange sound you heard, it's singing, it's howling, it's playing instruments,” and on the inside, just a little bit, he felt sorry that the kid didn't know anything about it. Laurel had always thought everyone knew about music; didn't mothers always sing their children to sleep when they awoke in the night? “What's your name, kid?” He seemed at that age where wandering was something common to do. Laurel had done it, his brothers had done it, and he though certainly his parents had too. At half a year old or thereabouts, the world was a big, big place and full of so many things that needed to be discovered.
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"Sirius" He said simply. He didn't know that it was normal for most wolves to know about music. He'd been raised in a very busy environment, where the wolves each had their own little things to do, tasks they had to get done during the day...so he'd either played with Noah or had gone off by himself to explore. He had his own bedroom in the house because he'd hated sleeping in the same room as Apollo, so he generally wasn't bothered there.
There had been times that he'd trailed Naniko around, but what she did during the day was pretty boring. Mixing powders together, cleaning sheets? That was no fun. "Who are you?" And what is singing? I know howling..but I can't do it very well"
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Oh lord, Sirius. Laurel could only imagine the kinds of things his siblings probably pulled on him, if not other adults. Not that his name was much better, because his father had once told him that Laurel was a name for a girl, even though as far as Laurel was considered, his name was sounded too strong to be a girl's name. “I'm Laurel,” he answered in return, “and don't worry about howling too much, we coyotes aren't really much on the howling thing.” And to some hater wolves, they couldn't do shit from shinola right. “Singing is the thing that I was doing when I was playing the banjo… you really don't know much about music, do you?”
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Whenever Pilot howled it sounded beautiful. Maybe he was destined to have an ugly voice. Whatever Laurel had been doing, that singing thing, it sounded fantastic, though. Maybe he could learn to do something like that, and then he'd be able to impress his father. He'd heard that Pilot could play an instrument...but he had no idea what that had meant at the time. He wondered what he could play.
"No...I never heard it in Twilight Vale. Sometimes there was some singing...if that's what that is. Naniko did it. But never together with that instrument thing. Can you teach me?"
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“Music takes lots of forms. Singing, howling, playing an instrument.” Well, maybe three things wasn't a lot of forms, but Laurel couldn't come up with others than that. It was all about pretty sounds at the end of it all anyway, right? “And I could probably show you how to play something… can you shift, though?” Maybe he was too young, that kind of stuff was totally lost on him anyway. But if Sirius could shift, that would definitely make picking an instrument easier to do. If not, it didn't totally exclude him from things either; certainly there was something they could find eventually.
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"Change like my dad does? Get taller?" He didn't know that some wolves couldn't do it, or that it was unnatural at all. Everyone in Shadowed Sun did it, and he had been told that once he got a bit older he'd be able to as well. "You can...I can't yet. I is too little" He didn't know if he'd ever be able to. Naniko had said that some things might not happen for him, being born prematurely...that he might not be able to shift for a while, or at all.
"I don't know the words to any songs...so I can't make music" He said.
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_____Too little, well damn. That would certainly make figuring out what he could play a little harder to do. Not impossible, Laurel decided immediately, but once he got to that point where he could master shifting and all of the fun first time things that came with it, music itself would get a lot more fun. “It's more than knowing the words to songs. You can make up words to your own songs,” he said with a shrug, even know most of the words he knew went to songs of the past. “I know just the place we can go though, if you want to look at some nifty stuff.” Retrieving the banjo, he slung the strap over one of his shoulders and started to head towards the open door of the warehouse. “You might find something you like,” he went on to said, assuming that the kid would follow him—no questions asked and all—but if he didn't, well… oh well. [/html]
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He'd never actually tried shifting before, but he was too afraid to attempt it. He'd been told that he would be able to do it in a few months, but that it would hurt the first time he tried...so he wasn't rushing it. It would happen when it happened. He did want to be able to stand up and hold an instrument, though. Maybe when he did shift he would come back and find Laurel and they could make music together.
"Sure! I's coming with you" He followed along behind him. "What kinds of stuff? I can take it home?"
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_____The accordion from earlier was forgotten, left in the warehouse behind them as they ventured out into the depths of the city and its tall, broken buildings. He didn't know where on earth they would find a music store unless they crossed the city, but he really didn't have plans to do that. Surely there was more than one shop of instruments in entire span of Halifax. “We're going to find you something you can play and yeah, you can keep it. Anything in this city is free for the taking.” Unless of course, it belonged to anyone who lived there in the city. But for the most part, he had never seen anyone else who lived there besides Jasper and Laurent, but that had clearly changed.
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