[p] seasons go and seasons come
#1
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It had been far too long since Unatsikanogeni had played his drum.

The ruddy-furred man smiled as he walked out of his hut, the instrument tucked under his arm. He looked for a spot to sit that wasn’t right in the middle of the path, but he didn’t want to venture far away from the village to be out of the way. He ended up choosing a spot at a crossroads, in a big patch of grass littered with the wood and stone remains of an old hut he imagined had been destroyed by the snowstorm. After clearing a spot of debris, he took a seat and set the drum before him.

He had always had a fascination with drumming, ever since he was little and saw how easy it was. He was too bad at everything to be able to play a flute or other complicated instrument, but even in his childhood lupus form he’d been glad to bat at the taut skin and listen to the sound reverberate. After a while, his playful banging had developed a self-taught rhythm, and while he was far from perfect, simply creating noise served to calm him in a way that little else could.

The farmer grinned as he began to tap, eliciting different notes from the instrument depending on where he struck and how. He used the heel of his palm in some places, the tips of his fingers in others, and imagined the sounds just bouncing from it. The vibration passed through him and through the ground and reached all throughout the earth, and he wondered if a good drummer could awaken spirits.
Blissful for the first time since he’d joined AniWaya, Unatsi closed his eyes and just drummed.


Word Count → 289

For Sighet (and Anatole?)


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#2
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OOC here!



Sighet was happy and amazed with the beauty of her new home. She skipped along the landscape like a silly deer would do, every now and again inspiration to sing would come and go. A few times she danced in the wind and several times she paused to look at an animal that was tucked away. She found none to be appetizing since she had already had her share of food, so instead she enjoyed their company while she could.

After a bit she sat down for a break. The exploration of her new home was for two main reasons: meeting other canines and getting a grasp on what she had found. A hand rose to sweep hair from her long mane that she hardly messed with other than to brush through it from time to time. Her tongue hung out the side of her mouth and her tail swept back and forth along the ground.

She stayed there for a time, basking in the weather surrounding her and being content with herself. It was a breeze that first brought her the drummer's rythm. She sat up more from where she'd been resting to look in the general direction the sound came from. Where was it? The musical side of her won over shortly as she stood up to chase the sound waves. Her tail kept on a wagging, increasing speed with each step as she grew closer to the noise.

At last, she stumbled upon the musician who was relaxed into his own pattern of music. "Nice beat," she called to the luperci before her. A peak of interest came as she watched his hands and wondered how hard drumming could be. She was always wanting to join in with the instrumental types. The familiar urge to swivel her hips with the beat came shortly as she watched. A smirk sliding into place as she fought the need and tilted her head towards the male. "I'm Sigh."



Believe me when I tell you that I
never want to see you again.
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#3
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He'll warm up. :3



art by crypsis

As a scout, Anatole’s patrols often took him through the village. He himself did not live there, still uncomfortable in the huts, but respected the fact that others liked them. Today was one of the few days that had seen him in the village for a reason other than patrol—he had in fact just tried to ride “his” horse again. This had ultimately ended with him gripping her neck desperately and ending up dismounting quickly, ashamed and unwilling to look like a fool. Feeling disheartened and ridiculous he had decided to go sulk elsewhere.

This self-centered behavior was what led him, unwittingly, directly towards the pair. He had been moving on two legs, shoulders hunched and eyes on his feet, and not paying attention to his surroundings. Not until he smelled them did he realize his ears had led him there. Irritated and now feeling twice as foolish for clearly interrupting the pair, he drew to a sharp halt and folded his ears back. The mass of black raven’s hair around his head (something unkempt if only due to his lack of familiarity with this form) did little to hide his clear uncertainty of what, even now, was a group he clearly felt distanced from.

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#4
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There was a strange transformation in the rangy, neurotic man—one that was certainly mental, but seemed in some queer way to change him physically, too. He no longer had an awkwardly-shaped skull and huge ears, but an almost handsome and angular face. The beads in his hair were no longer odd blobs of color amongst the brown, but decorations that swayed as he leaned over the instrument and seemed to tell a story of their own. There was no stuttering or stammering in the way his hands moved, and he was confident with himself, just another Tribesman instead of the outsider he believed himself to be.

He pounded away on the skin, never managing to make his hands sore, until an interruption came. His rhythm was thrown as he came back to reality, his big ears folding back as he looked sidelong at the newcomer. He reclaimed the beat she’d complimented, but the sound was quieter now—had a tinge of the shyness that was obvious in his demeanor. “Um, thank you,” he answered in English, taking cue from her use of the language. After she introduced herself, he was silent, using the moment to drum and take in her appearance—strangely patterned and absolutely dainty.

“I’m Unatsi,” the farmer responded after a while, his lips twitching in the semblance of a smile; he decided for once to give his shortened name rather than trip over himself apologizing for the full, intimidating thing. “I uh—” he went on, but noticed another figure out of the corner of his eye, a wolf that almost looked unfamiliar until he matched the scent to the yet-unseen form the fellow was in.

“Osiyo, Anatole!” Unatsikanogeni called, desperately latching onto someone that he knew to stay anchored. He noted the other’s posture and tried to smile again, managing a bit of a bigger one this time. “Hey, come on over here if you want—this is Sigh, and she’s—she’s new, I take it you’re new, right? Unless I’ve just been blindly oblivious to you, which I doubt, since your fur is absolutely queer, I mean—I mean no offense, it’s nice, it’s just so strange and—” His drumming became erratic then stopped, and he rubbed between his eyes with thumb and index finger, stifling a groan.



Word Count → 385

Man, I'm so sorry for the wait. x__x;


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#5
OOC – I fail :/ Sorry i waited a long long time.

IC –

It was cute. She had to admit it. Her flirty mind began to wonder as her eyes took him in a bit differently than before. Shy, she assumed, and a bit of awkward. A slip in her posture came as her hips slightly swayed with the rhythm until she forced them to still once again. Music sometimes just drove her nuts.

Unatsi talked in his shy voice until suddenly he broke off. A scent crossed the calico's nose just as he called out to one called Anatole. The invitation ended with the male commenting on the strange wolf coat she'd been cloaked in as a pup. A small laugh uttered from her lips. "Thanks, I suppose. It's nothing new. Though I am. Fresh by a few days." There was a moment she paused and smiled at the Anatole fellow's direction. "Nice to meet you." She forced her legs to sit her down on a nearby stump in the forming drum circle. The more easy it was to contain her hips, the better. She didn't want to come off too crazy to these pack members.
#6
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art by crypsis

If he had a hope of leaving, it vanished when the skinny wolf hailed him. Anatole recalled the man and approached slowly, frowning all the while, and looked between the pair silently. The noise of the drum and speaking were muddled, for a moment, and as quickly gone. He was surprised by the pelt on the female, and wondered if she had a parent with dog blood. Unsure if this was an appropriate question to ask, he elected not to and looked at the two musicians curiously.

“New, huh?” He echoed, and settled on the ground. He kept his legs hunched, as if he might need to spring up at any moment, and with his arms between them looked rather like an oversized child. The broad length of his shoulders and the still-sulking face suggested that this was halfway true. His hair, shaggy and true black, flopped with a jerk of the head towards the drum. “Do you know how to play? I have before, once,” he added, and once again fell silent. His uncertainty suggested that this route might be easier than to say too much and come off looking foolish.

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#7
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The calico woman seemed to fidget a little, and Unatsi wondered if she was thinking about bolting or something similar; wouldn’t be the first time someone deemed him too weird to hang around with for long. She quickly stopped, though, and he guessed it was because Anatole had shown up and distracted her. He regarded the scout’s large, muscular form with a hint of perhaps jealousy before the girl answered his question.

A nervous chortle escaped the Tsulwisdanehi, mostly because she hadn’t been completely offended by his rude observation, and he nodded as she took a seat on the tree stump he’d neglected in favor of the soft ground. Other drummers had better posture when they weren’t hunched over on the ground, but he was lazy, and this was as good a place to sit as anywhere else. He let the tips of his claws tap against the taut skin before the scowling Anatole joined the little circle.

“Osda!” Unatsi remarked, and held the drum out to the sulking man. Ahani, you should play a little then.” He gave a sidelong glance to Sigh to see if she agreed, or if she wanted a turn too. Shortly after, a conversation topic jumped to mind, and he grinned amiably (with a twitch) and asked, “What profession are you in, Sigh?”


Word Count → 000

Una wishes he was sexy like 'tole. ;D


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#8
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http://i131.photobucket.com/albums/p292 ... table3.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;">
ooc: new sexy tables Wink
WC: 000


The fellow with the large muscular frame seemed to be slightly rude. That or grumpy. Sigh convinced herself it had to be that he was having a bad day and gave him a sweeter smile, trying to ease whatever was troubling him. Meanwhile he joined their circle and spoke a few questions. Anatole and Unatsi chatted quietly before Sighet ever really replied. "Yes... I'm the new wood carpenter here; the Gatlvska... I don't play an instrument but I love music. Singing and dancing are some of my better skills." The cherokee sounded a bit odd in her accented voice but she pulled it off well enough for them to recognize the title.

Blue eyes flecked with turquoise flickered between the males. Did they like each other? Anatole still had a frown covering his face and it was taking away the attractive qualities he possessed. Because of this, her attention rested on the original man she'd stumbled upon and his drum. "If I had an instrument I'd suggest us playing together some time. Or perhaps we could get someone with a guitar to play and I could sing. It'd be fun." A smile was on her lips, ecstatic about the idea. A circle of friends jamming to music together was always fun.

She slowly looked back over toward Anatole. "And you should definitely play if you can. Maybe it'd make you smile." It was a joke, the humor thick in her voice, but some wolves or dogs might take it wrong. Whatever the matter, it was now up in the air and she gave a small giggle just to add evidence that it was a joke. The canine was simply too serious! Laughter was medicine for each bad day in the Calico's mind and she attempted handing it out every where she went.


Table by Miyu
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#9
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Baaaaw I am slow. Anatole is awkward sometimes. :3



art by crypsis

His fingers caressed the drum nervously, and was glad that Unatsi had the confidence to speak when he did not. The girl was even more talkative, and he found he liked this—it filled the silence. For most of his life he had lived with silence and while not uncomfortable with this, was starting to understand the need for socialization and interaction. Her mention of rank gave him another edge into the conversation, though he waited until she was finished to speak. He was glad for that choice as well; while she was teasing him, it was light-hearted and the brilliant smile that came across her face forced one to slowly take away his own scowl.

“My cousin, Claudius, he’s a craftsman too,” Anatole said slowly, and motioned to his shoulder. He trailed one finger in an approximation of the spiral on his cousin’s own arm. “He dyes his fur. You should talk with him, about making things,” the dark man offered lamely, and then positioned himself as to have better access to the drum. Gingerly, he began tapping at it—there was no rhythm and no direction to the noise, which was soft, but a look was given to Unatsi in hopes he might take the lead. Anatole was uncomfortable with things beyond his element, and this was one of them.

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#10
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The calico-patterned female explained that she was a carpenter—but also a singer and dancer. Unatsikanogeni blinked in surprise but threw her a smile, guessing why she’d been attracted to the drumbeats in the first place; he’d known a few dancers from the Great Tribe, and it was hard for them not to get into the rhythm no matter where it was coming from. They danced spiritual dances throughout the entire day, even if it was a little movement while picking squash or a tapping of the foot while watching the rain fall. He personally was a rather uncoordinated dancer, but he used to find it fun before the war.

“A guitar?” Unatsi asked, tilting his head. “Who knows? I don’t know everyone in the Tribe yet, but we can maybe have a little band of musicians.” He grinned broadly. “It would be odd for you to just sing to a drumbeat, without a real harmony, but there’s nothing stopping you from dancing, is there? Unless you’ve got a lame leg today or something.” He stared critically at her limbs.

Her teasing of Anatole made the red wolf smile nervously, though the black and gold male took it with a smile of his own. He mentioned Claudius (a member whom Una hadn’t met personally yet though he’d seen the tan-dappled wolf around) then began to tap away slightly at the drum. Brighter green eyes flashed to the red wolf’s, and he smiled reassuringly, his hands falling into a soft rhythm against his leg. He hoped that Anatole might be able to follow the relatively simple beat, and it might even be fun just keeping that up while Unatsi slapped away at whatever he could to produce noise. They might even be able to goad Sigh into dancing; that’d be a treat.


Word Count → 301

Anatole is awkward "sometimes?" ;D Fast lamepost!


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