[html] It was raining. Well, maybe raining was an understatement; it was pouring. The storm had blown up from the west almost without warning while Laurel had been out and the darkening skies had caught him completely off-guard. So by the time he found the run down shack in the middle of nowhere, he was drenched to the bone through and through. The wind whistled through the gaps in the old wood and the rain dared to blow inside from time to time, but it held up surprisingly at first glance. The surrounding forests gave it a perfect wind guard in a sense, though the way that they creaked and moaned in the gales left a certain unease to rest in the pit of his stomach. Of course, he didn't really have too long to think about that when the spiders seemed to run out of his gaze.
Laurel didn't possess a fear of the spiders and was quite entertained by them, but he had hardly walked two feet into the place before cobwebs meshed against his muzzle and a spider nearly swung down on its web and hit him in the eye. Instead of being a playable tool, his banjo became the cobweb grabber of the century and in no time at all, he had at least gotten a majority of the things he knew he'd be walking into out of the way. What was left in the rickety old shack wasn't much either; it was scarcely two rooms, just some living quarters and a bathroom. The dust was much too thick on the books for him to care about and once he had flopped down on the old covered couch he felt sorry that he had—the dust flew in the air and prompted a sneeze.
Still, with the raging weather outside, he wasn't about to go to back out. It was instinctual to seek shelter when things got bad, so he merely occupied himself for the time being and pulled the sticky webs off of his instrument. If a spider crawled up too close, he gave it a deft flick and sent it flying into the shadowy corners. So once he felt like every last bit off of the strings, he drew the instrument up properly and simply began to play to pass the time. [/html]
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They said home was where the heart was. Where, then, did home exist for the heartless? Talitha herself couldn't decide if her heart had been eaten by the moving around, by burning of the one place she had ever known, by anything less or more than this place. She had been born onto a beach of desecration, created by the insanity that was her grandmother and upheld by her father. A beach; it symbolised much, for a young Lykoi. No escape; on both sides it was endless, reaching no conclusion but forever running along in bends and twists that meandered into pits made by men for killing men. To the front was only the ocean, a threat constant to remind them they were never in control. And to flee to the west would mean running blindly into the territory of wolves. There was never a need for memory to serve as a warning with so many dangers, but the Inferni coyotes had followed a mad woman into the abyss. Perhaps, and only mildly likely, those who served the clan could have been good souls. Could have been followers of God, could have wielded His Holy Sword and been what the wolves never would.
For they could never put aside their differences. A coyote was cunning, and had intelligence wolves could not handle with their teeth and their broad chests. They were hungry for power, for dominance over the world; they could create a government suitable to control everything, if they took life by brute force. Talitha had no doubts that the wolves could easily overrun any coyote population. They were solitary beasts; the only reason she herself was much too socially vulnerable, could only function in a society and not on her lonesome (which made up part and most of the reason staying out there with only her mother for company had driven her to return to a land which, apparently, was ravaged by a war in which she was at danger at all times) was because of the dog in her.
Wearing extravagant colours — a bright pink tank top that hung loosely over her very underdeveloped breasts and hinted at the tight waist she sported, and obnoxious purple sweats that hung at about the middle of her calf, two-thirds length — as she was wont to, the Luperci weaved quietly through the trees. It was only the rumble of thunder murmuring through the trees to warn her, and even then she wasn't anywhere near shelter. She paused to give it an almost nonchalant glance with her deepening red eyes; simple thunder so quiet as that brought little rain of late. Without another thought on the matter, she pushed through the obstructing branches that contained the homes of spiders out of her nightmares (which she tried to ignore out of sheer wariness of them) and pressed on. Her goal was to reach Dahlia before Inferni ever noticed she had left. It was only a matter of time; The young coyote was hardly a stealth artist.
By the time she did reach the shack, she was gasping for breath for having run and dodged through the trees. The wind had picked up considerably, whistling through the branches, and the sky — that boiling, angry mass above her that shot lightning around like it was a play thing, a power she never wanted to encounter up close — had erupted into night. The massing clouds, thicker than any she had ever seen, were impenetrable by the light. Talitha Lykoi ran, having nothing else to do. A moving target was surely less of a target than the stationary trees that stood sentry around her. Until she did reach the shack, which seemed to loom out of absolutely nowhere and enter into a thin clearing, she had no plan of action. But the minute she did reach it, she wrenched open the rickety door and barged right in. She didn't even have time to be surprised that it hadn't flown off the hinges and into Arachnea's Revenge.
The sweet, soft music was the only true warning she had before a large and conspicuously hairy spider dropped onto her head and she screeched, bolting from the door to the couch and, without a second thought, diving on to it to hide her face in the crook of the man's armpit. She didn't even have the time to register what he looked like, or that he was the source of the unusually exotic music, or even that he wore a funky hat that, had she noticed, she would have wanted to possess.
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My skin crawled for Tali... I like spiders... until they fall on me and then I flail lots. XD
[html] He really didn't get much of a warning himself when the door had been flung open, though there had been a good second before his brain told his hands to stop playing when a figure appeared right behind it. The spider however, didn't really care about any of this when it decided to zip line down from the ceiling in the seconds before, meeting a rather untimely adventure end on top of the young girl's head. Now out of all of the reactions that needlessly ran through Laurel's head, he had expected a scream. He had expected her to run around flailing, but not to try and hide on him or beneath him; he had barely the time to get his right hand off of the strings before she was against him! From there he was half inclined to make some sort of crude comment, but instead something else caught his attention much more. The spider. “Hold still,” he said firmly, as though she were going to panic even more.
And just like the last spider that he tried to bother him, he gave that one a deft click off of the top of her dark head and watched it sail across the dimly lit room. “You don't have to hide now, I got rid of the spider. At least that one. Most of the others I dealt with when I got here,” and since then they had avoided him for the most part. Maybe seeing their buddy or sibling or whatever in the hell relation the other spiders could have been being flicked away at the bat of an eye changed their tune. With the interest in spiders fading, his focus shifted to the obnoxiously bright clothing she had on. It was almost like what Poe had on as far as colour taste went… of course, he noted the ill-fitting manner of it all. She didn't look too much like a wolf but had the scant features of one just as much as he noted her sharp coyote ones.
“I'm guessing from the fear you don't live around here?”
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Yeah, spiders are absolutely nasty. Dx
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His clothes smelled like fabric; they smelled much like her own clothes had when she had first discovered them, but with a hint of himself. "Himself" was a cologne much stronger: musky, masculine, and powerful, with a hint of gentleness that was almost undetectable to her sensitive nose. The young coyote were turned her head slowly into his chest, hiding there as she had hid against her father when she was younger, until the firm command to halt was put out to her. Every bone in her body locked, ever muscle grew rigid and still and, for a moment, she could almost swear her heart stopped pumping. Her very breath hitched audibly in her chest at the growing feeling of drowning in herself, in him, in everything around her that was unfamiliar. Everything, basically, rang a different bell from the one she had grown up dangling from. The fingers lifted and she tensed more, if it was at all possible, screwing her red eyes shut and flinching into him. The snap of fingers releasing and the brush against her short, dark hair was alert enough without the confirmation, but assure he did. Her heart started again, and she almost couldn't suppress a quietly nervous chuckle of relief.
Th-thank you, she breathed, pushing reluctantly against his side to distance herself from him. Even sitting down, the man (considerably older than she, of course, and even than her father) was an impressive height, lofty but not at all stringy or awkwardly built. He had muscles that showed in his arms and even his legs through his pants, suggesting he was quite strong, even though he held a banjo as if all he had ever known was music. The dark fur fed down from his brow and across his muzzle to the cream that painted his underside, elegant and a transition that was, she had to say, quite flawless. His hair looked almost soft to the touch, but was a rugged blonde that caught her attention with smatterings of colour: beads, she realised upon closer inspection. And the hat, which became the most important feature when she looked at it, was in its own right strange, yet fitting.
The man's jade green eyes got her attention next, a swimming, masculine, cold compliment to her warm and girlish maroon-red, even though she only thought about it because she couldn't do much but look at him. She shook her head slowly when handed his assumption and curled her legs beneath her on the couch, saying nothing.
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*tries to offer Laurel for inspiration purposes!?1?* I'm on my gaming rig... which has Vista and holy fsck everything looks like it does on my iMac. Nice post, btw!
[html] She was young, there was no denying that. Not with the way her body was shaped, the way that age hadn't even begun to wear on her face like it had his. “No problem,” he offered with a smile, letting his then free arm rest comfortably against the back of the couch. The other, his left, had a firm hold on the banjo and its slightly skew position now. Her eyes reminded him of the others so far he had met with that particular shade, though there was something strange about hers that he couldn't quite place; a certain depth to them that kept them apart of the others. “I'm Laurel… and I've got to say meeting you has been the strangest encounter I've had here so far.”
All meant in good nature, of course. Having some kid cling to him and freak out over a spider was better than her charging in and shanking him in the side with a well concealed knife; knowing that the cabin he was in wasn't owned by some crazy cat lady minus the cats was a bit of an inner relief. “So where are you from?” The storm wasn't going to let up any time soon, so he believed he could at least entertain her or talk to her, either thing one of his better skills along with spider flicking. One thing was definitely certain about the situation though, they were both interesting and there was much to be said on the topic of clothes, reasoning about being out in the storm, and whatever else they managed to come up with. [/html]
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Talitha Lykoi, she squeaked immediately following his introduction, and then she ducked her head shamefully. She was usually a confident girl, able to conquer most of any kind of shyness ever to exist and able, also, to ignore her fears. The spider had caught her offguard and forced her shield aside, and hiding against his strong chest had also done wonders toward diminishing her into a blithering little girl with very little intelligent stuff to say. The young Inferni girl allowed her eyes to focus on that banjo instead of looking back at him, even though her whole body twitched acknowledgement when he began to speak once more. Her lower lip pushed out visibly as she chanced a glance up at his warm forest-y eyes, and then looked away almost as quickly; how could she hold it after having embarrassed herself so badly? Quietly, she shifted so her legs were folded up to her narrow chest and her thin arms wrapped tenderly around her purple-clad knees.
I-I live in Inferni, she said without even thinking that a smooth lie was probably smarter. She wouldn't have told any old stranger where she lived, but the fact that she had crashed right into him seemed somehow enough to make that fact negligible. Anyway, she was pretty sure he wasn't crazy, although if she saw a banjo-wielding psycho running toward Inferni's lands she would definitely feel remorse for saying anything at all. For the time being, her eyes moved from the tweed hat down to the banjo once more, and she couldn't help but hesitate.
How long have you played it...? she asked timidly, leaning forward just a little and lifting her head to look at the intricate strings and allow more wonder to fill her already heated mind. [/html]
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_____Ah yes, Inferni, that place he had heard about being over the river and through the woods and down that dark path on the way to Grandmother's house. Only they weren't exactly in a demented version of Little Red Riding Hood; partially because they lacked wolves and maybe the grandmother. Or something. Anyway, it was nice to know that she wasn't too far off from home, or so he assumed. It wasn't like they had a postmarked address that he could go by, he only had some rough directions and a medley of different smells to go of off.
_____But she was a charming girl, he could give her that. Young and curious, just like she should have been. “I've played this thing for years. Not really sure how many, to be honest.” Truthfully he imagined if he thought about it, he could figure out how long ago it was, but why bother? He had stopped counting the days and the months and the years a long time ago, finding it much easier to simply go with the flow than try and keep track of his own morality. “Do you want to hold it?” he decided to ask, noting the way she eyed it, very much like the woman that he had met not that long ago.
_____Who would have thought banjo = chick magnet?
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He didn't return the favour of sharing where he was from, but then, she hadn't really asked. She humbled her mind by thinking about how her own lack of introductory questions — because who needed an enquiry on everything anyway? — also probably showed a lack of interest, and that was something she couldn't pass off as a childish mistake. It was almost rude. God probably didn't approve of the child showing little care for what this man apparently did wonder about, but in the middle of rainfall in a shack somewhere with a man who could probably be her father and spiders, formality was the farthest thing from the Lykoi's mind. Oh, how she would come to detest that name, how she would want to shed it in the coming days.
But she wouldn't have that choice, as far as she knew. And as far as she knew there was no reason to be at all wary of the coyotes of Lykoi. Her eyes trailed back down to the banjo as he offered to let her hold it, but immediately she drew back, shaking her head quickly. No, I wouldn't want to drop it or anything... Thank you, though. She was probably nervous enough to drop it and ruin it, too. Then she'd feel guilty forever and she'd spent her whole life trying to find a nice replacement, even if he already found one or had one. Talitha would rather avoid any unnecessary accidents caused by her jumpy, spider-fearing nature and her youth at all costs.
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_____Even if she wasn't up to the task of holding the banjo and figuring out what it did hands-on, it wasn't the first time he had encountered it. Some just didn't want to make a fool of themselves or they simply didn't have any interest in it, and then there were those who were afraid of it. But she didn't fall into any of those categories and he knew that the interest still remained. “I doubt if you dropped this ol’ banjo it would fall to pieces. I know I've done it more times than I can remember.” And in fact, he had dropped it not too long ago, but that was a different story.
_____“Do you guys play instruments where you're from, or sing or something?” It was always nice to find others who had something like that in common. Aside from the two or three others he had met that were familiar with one instrument or another, it seemed like they were in short supply on a whole. Which probably made them all the more interesting, if not weird; given that most of them were a bunch of pants-wearing travellers that had stopped along the road for a breather. “I'm from a little gypsy band to the south of this forest and we've got a few folks who can play instruments. Pretty sure a couple of others are good at singing for that matter.”
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No, she admitted quietly; the Inferni coyotes, celebrating? Even if it was for something that could cause festivities, unless Talitha were to demand it of her father, the coyotes would never gather like that. Never had, if her accurate representation of the clan could remain complete. I don't think anyone can sing well either. Y'know, the wolf skulls took away from the singing atmosphere of the place. Sadly, she couldn't remember a time when she could properly wake up and feel like she lived in a warm and safe home, but that had always been the way it had been and she wouldn't change it for the world.
I wouldn't mind learning to, but nobody can play at Inferni and even if they could, they probably wouldn't have the time for an apprentice. She flashed a toothy grin that clearly showed she was more at ease as time went on, though still curled into a ball-like sit against the arm of the sofa. A gypsy band wouldn't be half bad either, had she ever had intentions of leaving Inferni, but such thoughts were so far from her mind that she would have blanched at the suggestion. Unlike many coyotes, Talitha was no wanderer, and preferred to remain where things were familiar enough that she had advantages under her fingertips. Even so, it was an interesting thing to consider.
Your band sounds wonderful, she breathed, not even catching her own quiet yearning. To play instruments, and sing, with others! That'd be the day.
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_____“Well, I don't know about that. I think there's talent everywhere. You might just have to look hard for it,” although honestly, talent was subject to the eye of the beholder, or maybe someone with a good ear. He didn't think he was particularly talented, but he hadn't scared away too many with his playing. At least not for a long time. “Do you know what kind of instrument you'd want to play? There might be someone around who could show you how.” The world as it were always had time for its youth; the places that didn't just lacked the youth.
_____And even if she seemed to be about half grown, he honestly doubted she was from the type of place that didn't care about its youth—it was very obvious just in the way that she spoke that she was intelligent. “And even if there wasn't anyone around to show you how to play, sometimes they're not that hard to learn if you have the will to teach yourself. That's pretty much how I started out, anyway.” Then someone had shown him a few things along the road, but that wasn't the point he was trying to get across, either.
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Chelsie deleted this post. Oops. Dx
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_____“You'd know, because it wouldn't sound right. Anyone can tell when they're playing something wrong unless they're tone deaf, but I doubt there's many of us around who are. We can understand what howls are all about, so figuring out music isn't that hard.” Considering that it hadn't been all that long ago that he had tried to given Sirius some direction at the whole thing. He didn't comment about the flute, mostly because it had been so long since he had heard one that it was probably one instrument that no one would play. But it was definitely one that when played, it was incredibly easy to know when a wrong note was hit.
_____“Besides, it's not really about whether or not you make a lot of sense playing the thing as long as you're having fun,” he went on to add. “If you don't have fun just picking up something and trying it, then it probably isn't worth doing to begin with.” If only that applied to everything in life. Again, he offered the banjo to the young girl. “You sure you don't want to give it a shot? You might be surprised.”
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She nodded, absorbing his words as if he was any of very few wise sages who had the right to give such advice and know it worked. This coyote was one she wished would live in Inferni and teach her the ways of the instruments but, at the same time, she would never want to take him from his own travelling band. Chances were, they wanted him more than she wanted him in Inferni, and one young girl against several adults wielding various musical instruments weren't making great odds. Even so, she was almost about to reach out for the banjo when she remembered herself: Jumpy at the moment, though hell as to why, and afraid of breaking his precious instrument. Even though he said he'd dropped it before, she was certain she could do way more damage.
No thanks, she again denied, shrugging her thin shoulders. I'll look around and see if I can find anything. Thank you for the advice. Suddenly she sounded way too formal. A light blush lit the skin beneath her fur and she lowered her gaze to her hands, which fidgeted with one another restlessly, as if she was being taken in for an interview or something. Awkwaaard. Of course, it was always bound to be awkward when a girl who was about preteen age was left in a room with a man who was certainly not a teenager.
So, uh... How long have you been with your band? There weren't really any other questions that could be asked at the moment. What else was she supposed to say to a man who was much older than she? "You're cool, let's be friends"? Like that would ever happen. Who wanted to be buddies with a kid?
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_____He was incredibly used to the awkward air that turned up in his company. It didn't matter if it was someone he had just met or someone he had known for years, there was always some point in their conversation that Laurel could find a way to drive everything into an awkward corner. Maybe it because he had been driven into so many in his time that it had simply become second nature to do it without thinking. “Well, I've been a traveller more of my life than not, so I've been apart of more than one. That's what we are pretty much, travellers. Come to a place and settle down for a while, leave when we get bored or forced.”
_____As if that needed explaining, though. Better safe than sorry, anyway. “But the group I'm apart of right now just settled a while ago. Maybe a couple of weeks, I've kind of lost track of the time already. It was just myself and another, but others have come along and settled with us.” Whether or not they followed him when he decided to leave for greener pastures was anyone's guess. He doubted it for some of them, being connected to family and all. It seemed like a lot of folks were related to one another in that area. Nice little backwoods place, right? “What's Inferni like?”
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Talitha's eyes widened just slightly at the idea of being a traveller; what kind of life would that be? She had been upset enough leaving behind Old Inferni in the fire, and for that reason she didn't like travel or fire at all. Having to leave New Inferni because of the war had certainly been the most horrible thing she had experienced thus far, and most of the reason she had left behind the feather and come back to where her father ruled. She couldn't imagine travel as a way of life, and was grateful, momentarily, that she didn't live in a nomadic kind of pack. The clan was pretty much stationary, and people came and went as they chose.
Well, she began on the subject of her own home, Since we're all coyotes, people come and go regularly. The only people who stick around are the Lykois and the Holocausts. We're all related in some way or another. The few coyotes who entered the clan who weren't left in due time or ended up being a part of the family somehow. Talitha didn't know of anyone who wasn't family in Inferni, but she also didn't know everyone.
We know everyone there, for the most part. Part of being almost purely family in a clan was that everyone knew everyone else; there were no crazy secrets being held.
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_____Ah, it sounded like they had quite the familial thing going on. It was enough to spark distant memories of what his home had been like, although it hadn't been some clan or pack. His family had been too true to coyotes, so very solitary and self-sufficient. But maybe that was the very thing that had made him a good traveller; even from a young age he had been able to fend for himself. The same camaraderie he had found in his brothers he had found in others. But he nodded with acknowledgement and understanding, quite aware of how they were.
_____“Sounds like quite a place. Maybe I'll have to drop by and pay a visit,” unless of course, they weren't too keen on visitors. But he didn't think that they were overly that way for some reason, maybe underneath the misnomer that they were coyotes and that coyotes didn't attack other coyotes. Even if it had happened in the past and would happen in the future. “It's not too far north of here, is it?” But if he was even going to think about visiting Inferni, he best have directions.
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That'd be pretty cool, bet dad would like you. Although the Inferni coyotes were said to be uptight about the slightest intrusion of strangers, Talitha had yet to observe even the slightest breach of rules. No coyote would attack another coyote without very good reason, and Laurel, she found to be impossible of supplying that reason. It was always an option to consider that he could easily change his tempo with very little warning, but why would he show her something different than he'd show anyone else? That was a little bit of wishful thinking on her part; she silenced her head and nodded.
North and west. We own a very small bit of this forest too. She didn't know if they'd expanded their territory since going there, having been too young to understand the politics of coexisting packs, but she supposed they probably had. It was easy to believe that all the packs expanded once in a while, and their family clan was certainly no different from anywhere else.
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End soon? 
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_____It sounded like Inferni itself was a bit more expansive than Esper Hollow. But Laurel figured it would be if it were some central hub for coyotes. As spaced out and solitary as they were even in family groups, one family could stake a claim that was miles by miles wide. “Well, kind of south of this place and west of the city is where the little camp is that I'm set up in. If you ever get curious, you should wander down and see what we're up to.” He really doubted that anyone would honestly care and if they did, well, he'd make sure things went over smoothly. Though so far no one had really cared much about the gypsy band's existence and as far as he knew, nothing had happened to them at all so far. A few curious questions here and there, maybe a nose being poked around in another place.
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Sure thing. :3
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Esper Hollow sounded kind of like the ideal kind of community for wolves who wanted nothing to do with the troubles of politics and packs. His offer was readily accepted with a warm grin, and she nodded even though she felt more like squirming around and saying she'd go right away to see. She was on a mission, and minds on missions couldn't afford to be distracted for long. That reminded her to listen for the rain, and luckily, she didn't hear any. That meant she could be on her way to Dahlia de Mai any minute now, but things were due first.
I'd like that, she said, though half of that was a smooth lie. In truth, she wouldn't like to go anywhere outside of Inferni, hating and fearing travel as much as she did because it always led to somewhere she didn't necessarily want to be. However, anywhere that Laurel said was home, she'd have to visit. The man intrigued her, and if there more musical prodigies around the area, she would definitely be on the lookout for something neat that she could hopefully learn from someone.
I should be on my way, she finally said after a pregnant silence, though really she didn't exactly know "goodbye" in her book of "how-to's". Uhh... I'll... See you around? Oh, and... Thanks for flicking the spider off and everything. Because saying that she had felt much better pressed into his side would probably make things worse. She sprung lithely off the couch and moved quickly to the door, turning her head to smile shyly before heading out into the forest to complete her self-appointed task.
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