[aw] and it goes like this

Trent · 09-04-2012, 07:11 PM

anyone is welcome, friendly or not Smile

set for august 31st, morning, in optime form.

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It had been some time since Trent had visited Halifax City. In fact, it'd been some time since he'd left Cour des Miracles lands at all. Trent had gotten used to being there, and he had stayed there most of his time, mostly because that's where he felt safe. He'd heard about wars and assaults on other packs, but his pack hadn't had any of that bad luck. Well, maybe those other packs had it coming. Terra always got in trouble, too, but then, she seemed to be very good at it, too; maybe those packs had been kind of like Terra. Not to say that she deserved getting hurt, or anything, but she did seem to be very good at it.

Tentatively, Trent wandered through Halifax' mostly empty streets, feeling like a wandering ghost. He wasn't really sure where to look, but he knew what he was looking for. The last time he was here, he'd come looking for Sebastian, who said he was staying here... Would the red fox-like wolf still be hanging out here? Probably not... A lot of time had passed.

Now, though, he was looking for something different altogether... Stuff. Shiny stuff, preferrably. Trent wanted stuff, like everybody else. He wanted cool things he could put in his room (preferrably portable ones, since it was still a good while back to Cour des Miracles), and he wanted human jeans. Maybe he'd be able to find some here... Trent hadn't a clue where to look for them, so he did the only thing he could think of; search the streets for a pair of them to be lying around. That is, until he passed a store with broken windows and an ugly array of purple text he couldn't read above said broken window. All of the stuff inside, displayed right behind the broken window in some distant past, looked dirty and tattered, old and dusty, and the insides of the store were pillaged, not leaving much behind... But it allured Trent.

For some time, the coywolf stood and stared inside. He wanted to go inside, but somehow it felt wrong, and so he couldn't help but stare while a gust of wind played with the feathers braided into his hair.

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Levent Kartal · 09-05-2012, 08:53 AM

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Whee, have a grieving Turk! And I might pop into your Trent pony-thread with Skoll if no one else does, unless you don't want to deal with me twice, haha.

He’d wanted to get away from it all, to travel miles and miles and leave his past and his grief far behind him. He’d wanted to walk on water and get back to his homeland. He’d wanted terribly to just give up and die, and he’d reached a compromise when he saw the great skyscrapers of the city where he’d scavenged for goods countless times.

Levent Kartal lay amongst junk in the back of the store, his scrawny arms flopped at random angles and his legs propped up on the edge of a chair. It might have been comical if not for how ragged he looked, his shirt torn open by brambles in his haste to leave the pack lands and his fur matted to reflect his emotions. A tattered tome lifted and dropped with the motion of his chest, and his satchel served as a pillow. Nestled in the crook of his neck was a ball of white fur—one that unraveled when the wind stirred, long tail lashing with agitation as yellow eyes reflected the light from outside.

The cat hissed, and his jaws gaped menacingly as he drank in the scent from outside the dilapidated store. Looking more properly like a small wolf itself, he abandoned his sleeping charge and loped for the broken window and for the dangerous canine hovering on the other side.

“Leave,” snarled the feline in a wolf’s speech, fur puffed up, but there was a low groan from the bed of junk as the luperci shifted. Immediately, Wilson’s posture changed, and he glanced worriedly and protectively over his shoulder, where Lev woke and asked something incoherent in Turkish (incoherent because he was addressing someone who wouldn’t be here, not the language itself).

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Trent · 09-05-2012, 10:23 PM

That'd be totally fine! Big Grin

I think Ali intended to drop Alder in there too, but I'd love to have both of you in the same thread! <3

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The city felt so deserted despite the scents of wolf lingering around everywhere that Trent hadn't really considered that there might be someone in the store with the broken windows at all. He stood in front of it tentatively, and as soon as the white thing came into view Trent backed off a step; the words were barely needed to be spoken. Damn it, what was it with him and choosing the bloody wrong places to go into?! That Skoll kid's house had seemed pretty nice-looking and Trent wouldn't make the mistake of thinking a nice-looking house was empty again, but this looked like a dump, and yet, it was taken again! Just his luck...

"Argh! Sorry, I didn't know this was..." 'Taken' seemed a strong word for a dumpy-looking place like this, but well, it was what it was. Trent was kind of shocked at first as he saw the white feline, but soon realised that this was one of the cats like the one that Alder had. Except this one... Spoke. "I err, thought this was deserted." Trent heard sounds from the back of the store, and he couldn't help but be curious who or what was out there, keeping the cat company. Presumably, anyway. Either that, or being held hostage by it...

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Levent Kartal · 09-08-2012, 01:24 PM

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Buh this post sucks. Also I really like your drawing!

The freckled coyote hybrid apologized swiftly, and Wilson looked almost perplexed for a moment, probably not expecting a luperci to take him seriously. He was about to growl uncouth agreement when the muttering started up again, and in an instant he spun around and trotted back into the darkness of the shop, his tail kinked questioningly.

“Is someone else there?” This time the words formed in accented English, and the wolf sat up slowly, his eyes adjusting quickly to the dim light he’d been snoozing in. He saw the luperci hovering outside the window and smiled brokenly, for an instant craving the company of another no matter whether they were dangerous or not. He tenderly placed the book amongst his things and made a quick gesture. “You can come in, if you disregard my nursemaid.” He rested a hand on Wilson’s back, and the tom flattened his ears before the cream fingers tickled behind him.

Levent paused. “Unless you’re a murderer or something, but—come in anyway.” He grinned a troubling grin and shifted, trying to reclaim the comfortable position he’d happened to fall into while sleeping.

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Trent · 09-11-2012, 06:51 AM

Thanks! <3 And your post was fine Smile

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Trent was rather happy when the cat went out of sight, back into the building. He considered simply running off and finding himself some other house, just when he heard the mumbling voice inside the building. Trent couldn't help but peek in, and saw a luperci in there, probably company of the cat. Or the other way around, who knew.

"Uh... Hello." Trent felt rather awkward as he was invited in, as this was someone that he didn't really know at all. He still wasn't used to everyone being friends -- and enemies -- with everyone, and borders not being quite as tight, and... So many other things. Nevertheless, intrigued by this new world, Trent carefully stepped through a broken window and inside the messy building.

Even though he wasn't a murderer, Trent thought it was kind of strange that the luperci would invite him regardless. He had to be very lonely. Oh dear. "Err, who are you? Do you live here alone, or is there a pack nearby?" Trent, still standind up near the entrance of the shop, scratched one of his long coyote-like ears and smiled awkwardly at the guy. It wasn't that he wanted to be rude, but he just thought it was a little strange to be invited in by a stranger. Oh, and what if the other guy was a murderer? Oh, yikes, he hadn't even considered that yet.

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Levent Kartal · 09-16-2012, 07:03 PM

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The redheaded male seemed surprised to be invited in, or hesitant, or something, and so Levent guessed either he wasn’t a cold-blooded killer or he was and hadn’t expected the job to be so easy. He leaned more toward the former, however, and tried to make up for the cat’s protectiveness by projecting a fake smile across the room and brushing aside some of the knickknacks that had gathered around him, including shoving aside an old clothes-rack and a metal stool that scraped against the ground as he pushed it with a foot. Losing patience, he dealt it a kick then tried not to flinch at the resulting crashing. Why the hell had he chosen to sleep in a place like this, again? Maybe he hadn’t cared.

“There’s a pack nearby,” Levent said, “but I’m living alone now.” He tried to clear more of a place to beckon the gawky coyote hybrid closer to him, but there wasn’t really much else he could do. He went back to scratching the cat in all his favorite spots to appease him, though the amber eyes glowered questioningly at both luperci—with suspicion and worry, respectively. Lev didn’t seem quite sober, either, although Wils knew it was probably from grief and exhaustion rather than any mind-altering substance (though who knew what he was able to sneak when the cat wasn’t looking).

The Turkish wolf seemed to grow impatient with the distance between him and the stranger, and he shook his head quickly. “I don’t bite unless you ask me too, and only if the terms of consent are very clear,” he said, or tried to say; he was sure that he slipped some foreign words in there. “I mean,” he amended, making sure he spoke English, “you’re welcome here, and I—I guess I just wanted to talk to someone? Maybe. You’re nice and friendly-looking, anyway.” Reddened eyes flicked over the other’s facial features before closing, and he let out a heavy sigh.

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Trent · 09-20-2012, 07:12 PM

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Trent stood warily at a distance, not really sure he could trust this luperci and his cat. Someone who lived in a dumpy building with no one but a cat to accompany him could surely not be one hundred percent sane, could they? The coywolf lingered hesitantly as the other wolf told him that there was a pack near, but he wasn't part of it. Did he mean Cour des Miracles, or was there another pack he was thinking of, that was nearer? Trent didn't really know how near 'near' was (maybe there was one in the city, after all?).

Still no name was given, which irked the coywolf, and made him feel more nervous. He liked names, and knowing who others were. Especially if they were possibly psycho murderers, or something. Clearing his throat, Trent offered, "I'm Trent, from Cour des Miracles, not far from here." Maybe his name would give the other an incentive to share his, too; and besides that, in the very least it would mean that there were others that'd come looking for the coywolf would he mysteriously disappear. Well, they probably wouldn't and figure he'd run off somewhere, but the other wolf didn't know that, did he?

As the other luperci spoke again, kind of garbled, Trent hesitantly stepped forward, a little closer. He didn't feel one bit more at ease, but he wasn't about to let the other know (even though the unease was written clearly all over his body). "I was just looking for uh, stuff. You know, like... jeans? Shiny human stuff? That's why I was checking out this place, hoping there would be some." He wasn't sure if the other wolf knew anything about that stuff, but maybe. Trent glanced down, looking at the contents of the messed up shop interior, hoping there'd be something cool there. ".. But I guess this may all be yours.." he added in a mumble. If this was where the luperci lived, then odds were big he didn't want to share.

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Levent Kartal · 09-30-2012, 11:16 PM

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The coywolf introduced himself as Trent from Cour des Miracles, and Levent frowned half-heartedly as his groggy mind tried to process the French. He guessed that there were a lot of packs on this side of the ocean that liked to adopt foreign-sounding names, which amused him slightly. Maybe he could start up a Turkish-sounding pack and parade around with his fancy foreignness, as if he didn’t already make the latter part of his lifestyle.

“Can’t say I’ve heard of it,” the brown wolf said apologetically, reaching back to scratch at his messy hair and trying to remember if he had really heard of it. Maybe it was one of the couple of southern packs he’d missed during his trips, but he could only really say that he was familiar with Cercatori d’Arte (and maybe the northern packs that you weren’t supposed to visit as a wolf trader). He shrugged and made another effort to smile. “I’m Levent.” Petting the cat, he added as solemnly as if addressing a Luperci companion, “And this is Wilson.”

Trent admitted to be searching for human stuff, and the man glanced at the clothing and garbage strewn about before the other added an assumption about the haphazardly-heaped items. He laughed and shook his head quickly, his demeanor turning a bit more genuinely friendly as he shoved some more of the crap aside. “Hayır, not at all. I only stayed here the night; I figure anyone is free to help themselves to all this junk. Or, at least, I make a habit of helping myself to things.” He looked over his shoulder, twisting about slightly before reaching into one pile of clothes and hangers. He came back up with a pair of bellbottom jeans, which he tossed in Trent’s direction before realizing that even pants could look like a lethal weapon to the wrong eyes. Though—he probably would’ve gone for the hanger if he did intend to murder the fellow. The morbid thought was almost funny.

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Trent · 10-04-2012, 02:55 PM

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The other wolf didn't seem to recognise the name of his pack much at all, and then confirmed that he had not in words. Trent casually offered, though he wasn't sure why, "If you need a place to stay, you could always try at my pack. We accept all sorts of people." Trent didn't even really like the one he'd just met, and wasn't sure he'd fit into Cour des Miracles, but maybe he was just feeling valiant. He wasn't so sure why he extended an invitation, for he didn't really care to have the other wolf in his pack. But what was done was done, now.

Levent. And the cat had a name too, of course. Wilson. What a funny name. "Err, nice to meet you." The coywolf nodded hastily, feeling kind of awkward being introduced to a cat, of all things.

The coywolf's eyes lit up a little as Levent said that this wasn't really his home, and that none of the stuff was his at all, and he felt his spirits lift considerably. "Cool," Trent said, much like a kid on christmas morning, ready to unwrap his presents. The coywolf watched as Levent searched around, not sure if he was trying to help Trent or just looking for some stuff of his own. The question was answered when something was tossed his way (something which Trent might've considered something to be scared of in another situation, but since he'd been watching Levent it wasn't entirely unexpected) and Trent caught it clumsily.

Trent rubbed his fingers across the jeans, feeling the fabric. He'd never actually felt jeans before, just seen others with them, and could not help but stroke the rough fabric. "Feels kinda funny," he heard himself say, feeling a little embarrassed afterwards, because it quite emphasised how he'd never held anything like this. Trent quickly unfolded them and held them up to look at them (and, hopefully, figure out how on earth he'd put them on while pretending to just admire them in their entirety).

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Levent Kartal · 10-12-2012, 04:19 PM

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Unexpectedly, the hybrid offered him a place in his pack. Cream brows lifted in a quizzical fashion, but Levent only smiled wryly and shook his head. “No, I’m done with packs, for now.” He especially didn’t want to join one so soon after the last; he needed to be alone, to grieve, to feel goddamn sorry for himself. Packs meant forged bonds, allies, comrades—and an ache when you had to leave them. It was simpler on the trade routes when all he had to do was say a cheery farewell to another merchant or innkeep or acquaintance or one-time beau. No, he doubted he’d heal enough to risk pain like that again.

Wilson only narrowed his eyes at the coywolf’s awkward pleasantries, and Levent was amused to see him playing dumb again, as if he couldn’t speak the same (albeit accented) English as the rest of them. He knew it made the cat comfortable, though, and it was always best to hide one’s true talents among those one didn’t trust. In the cat’s case, he didn’t really trust anyone.

Trent looked adorably excited when he realized the stuff lying around wasn’t off-limits to random strangers. The brown-furred wolf leaned back to observe him as he caught the jeans and ran his fingers over the denim. His remark had the Turk laughing, but Lev didn’t comment until Trent had looked at the jeans at a sufficient number of angles to look helplessly lost with them.

“Those,” Levent said, standing, “go on your legs.” He grinned wolfishly. “I can help you get into them, if you want,” he added demurely.

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