Gray Goose

Edgar · 09-06-2012, 06:32 PM

Edgar quietly sat on the roof of a small abandoned home that overlooked the ocean. The moon was right in front of him and stood out against the dark purple sky. The young boy nearly fell asleep when his companion flew towards him to sit by him again. She had gone out for a quick snack, the luperci wondered what she had found to eat since she had usually gotten her food from him. Edgar gently touched her feathers, he loved the texture of feathers. He closed his eyes as he began to draw the image of his bird flying in front of the moon; the feeling of her soft wing gave him a better idea of how to draw her. Minutes later the luperci opened his eyes and saw what he had drawn. No, that wasn't right. Her shape was all wrong. The male grabbed his pencil and erased what he had drawn, then he began to draw again; this time with his eyes open. Now for the second time Edgar took a look at what he had created, and he still wasn't too happy with how it looked. Frustrated, he grumpily crumbled up the paper and threw it off the edge of the roof. He could use someone to converse with.

Lynx de Macian · 09-08-2012, 05:47 AM

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The fiddler listened to the ocean softly hiss in the distance. She hugged her limbs close to her chest with and gazed at the moonlit ocean, cool lavender eyes almost half closed. It was the most beautiful night she had seen since arriving to this country. She wished very much to stay awake and enjoy it -- being nocturnal, this wouldn't usually have been a difficult thing to do. But in the peaceful yard of the little house, the snowy wolf could barely resist the silver light and the ocean's lullaby. She thanked the gods for their blessings, for bringing her here tonight. They were so gracious to her.

Her happy thoughts were growing foggier and the sounds and sights around her were dimming. Then, something hit her square in the forehead. She whined softly, opening her eyes and wildly gazing around her. Hello? No one answered, but as her ears lifted toward the roof of the house she noticed incoherent noises, as if there was someone up there. She picked up the object that had hit her, a wad of paper. Gently unfolding it, she saw the drawing of a goose, a lovely one.

She did not like that her sleep had been interrupted, but now that there was something to be curious about, Lynx had no hope of feeling sleepy any time soon. After searching the outside of the house, she found a lattice along the little cottage's porch and climbed to the roof.

There she paused, taken aback by the strange pair she found A dog, accompanied by a little gray goose. Now she understood the drawing. Lynx crawled gracefully toward the male, noticing how the moonlight glittered beautifully in his silky, russet fur. I hope I am not disturbing you, she spoke, still holding the drawing close to her chest.

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Edgar · 09-08-2012, 11:08 AM

The canine was startled a bit at first when a young woman found her way up to the roof, she was holding the drawing that he had messed up on a bit to her body. He then wrote on a fresh sheet of paper, I'm sorry, did that hit you? I can't get the shape right. If you want to say something you can write it down on here, I'm deaf He nodded toward his fowl friend, letting her know this was the goose he hadn't "gotten the shape right" on, before handing her the sheet of paper. Edgar wondered what was with the art on her body, it looked beautiful but at the same time so strange. He hadn't seen any other canine with markings like the ones she had. Could she be from a tribe or a pack of some sort? Taking a whiff of the scent that was emanating from her, he found that she did smell like she came from a pack. Edgar had wanted to join a pack, one that would praise his artistic ability. He had caught the scent, weeks ago, of a pack that smelled of roses and clay; he planned on gathering up some courage to go back there and check it out. This female sure didn't smell like roses or clay though, she obviously came from a pack much farther away.

Lynx de Macian · 09-12-2012, 12:19 AM

I was so tempted to put “lol” and smileys in her note to him. :x

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The fiddler had sensed that something was not quite right with the dog -- nothing distasteful, but there was something. Her bright eyes watched him form a note on the paper, puzzled at first, then understanding: he was deaf. The Norwegian felt a rush of pity for the handsome male, hating to think of how he might suffer. Then again, many creatures were blind, deaf, or otherwise hindered in some way, and they adapted to the world and lived just as well as those who weren’t. Very often, they even seemed to have unusual talents. But there was always a balance, and at the moment it didn't look like the dog was suffering from anything more than annoyance that he could not get his artwork right.

Lynx held the picture out in front of her and looked at it more carefully, arching a brow. It was slightly disproportionate, maybe, but it was still beautiful, much better than any drawing she could have made. Still, she understood the Spaniel's frustration, for she was an artist herself. There were few things more irritating than being unable to find the notes she was looking for. It was hard, sometimes, not to smash her violin against the ground, so she could see why Edgar would crumple and toss a drawing he didn't like. She took the paper from him and eagerly scrawled a note in large, round letters.

Yes, but there is no harm done. I think it’s a beautiful picture.
My name is Lynx. You are?

Smiling, she passed the paper back.

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Edgar · 09-12-2012, 06:11 PM

ooc: lol c: That's happened to me sooo many times before!

The slender canine speedily scanned the words she had drawn onto the page. He was flattered by how she said even his worst work yet was still beautiful, he tended to be very critical of himself sometimes. Although he wasn't one who minded being pitied, it still wasn't something he wanted to be. Edgar wanted to be treated like everyone else, just communicated with verbally since he had his disability, not talked to like he was a... cripple... He hated that word and didn't have much respect for the people that used it. He knew that whatever disability or permanent injury you may have can't stop you from acheiving great things. Edgar thought that nobody should be told they couldn't do something because they're a "cripple" or "handicapped". It was true, however, that other things made up for the loss of a sense. His own brother, who had had a learning disabilty and knew very little words, had been strangely good at reading people's emotions and would know when to comfort you or when to listen. The dog then wrote back to her; Well, I'm Edgar. Thank you though, Lynx. I hope you don't mind me asking but, could you explain the art on your body you have? I think it's very lovely The male then met her smile with his own as he waited for her reply.

Lynx de Macian · 09-24-2012, 04:22 AM

eek! I'll be faster from now on.

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Lynx had not even seen many disabled canines. After she left her family, she sometimes stayed with one pack or another that was kind enough to let her rest up for a few days during her travels. In one of these packs lived a young female who had lost her hind leg after a bear attacked her. Lynx had spoken with her briefly, but all the woman said about her injury was that she remained in her lupus form more often than most, which did not seem to bother her since the pack was more primitive anyway. The de Macian remembered this wolf being very strong, serene and mature for her age, and never overly preoccupied with the loss of her limb. Remembering her, Lynx was certain that she would not be surprised if she perhaps discovered similar things about Edgar.

As she read his words, the girl was struck by his courtesy, the kindhearted compliment making her pale cheeks turn rosy. Giving him a shy, flattered smile, she returned a note: How kind of you, Edgar. These tattoos were given to me by an artist on my journey across the sea. One of his paintings was of a woman with similar markings. I loved the image so much that he offered to give the markings to me as well. I could not refuse.

Ivan had been such a sweet, romantic man. She did her very best to block the memory of the night they had spent together when he gave her face its uniqueness, averting her thoughts to the present and looking curiously at Edgar for his reaction.

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Edgar · 09-24-2012, 04:40 AM

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ooc: I'm sorry to force you into replying at 3 in the morning lol

Edgar did have more of a tolerance of others and strength because of his inability to hear. It lead him to be more respectful too, since he got life harder than most people. He's learned to adapt, he'd always been great at that. He now can comfortably communicate with other luperci with writing, expressions, signs and drawing. She appeared to be flattered by his comment about her stunning tattoos she had, a sweet smile tickling the corners of her sleek maw. How kind of you, Edgar. These tattoos were given to me by an artist on my journey across the sea. One of his paintings was of a woman with similar markings. I loved the image so much he offered to give the markings to me as well. I could not refuse. The dog wondered where she started her life. There were other canines he knew, such as a woman named Vladislava, who had made their way across the sea. All around the world, there were luperci coming in this area and he could see why; the packs. He knew when there were more packs, it had meant more trading. But a lot of luperci that had crossed the sea had done so not to trade, but usually to run away from something that was bothering them in some way. Edgar thought that the artist who had done her tattoos was very talented and must have had a very steady hand; the markings were very clean and sharp-looking. Why did you cross the sea? The artist must have been very talented, too. he wrote.

Lynx de Macian · 09-25-2012, 06:08 AM

You didn't force me <3 I was in the mood to write, plus I live on the west coast, so it was only 12. I PP'd the goose a little bit, let me know if you want me to change anything.

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Lynx took the pencil and paper from him. Yes, he was very talented, she wrote, her expression carefully bland.

The pale girl held the pencil suspended hesitantly above the paper, unsure of how to respond to Edgar's question. Why had she come? Why did she leave Norway to come to this place? Her lavender gaze drifted up from the paper and across the moonlit water, full eyelashes blinking slowly as she lost herself in her thoughts. For a short time the pale wolf couldn't find the words to explain what had driven her away from home. Suddenly she felt a sharp burn of frustration. She wished desperately to explain herself to someone, why not to this gentle soul? There was no particular reason for her to leave her family behind and break a good man's heart all for the selfish desire to find her place in the world. Yet, there had to be some reason.

Finally Lynx released her breath, with it the emotion that seemed to have come from nowhere. There was no way for her to explain, not yet. She would have to be content with that.

Pardon me, she wrote first, sneaking a glance at the quiet Spaniel from the corner of her eye. She had not been silent for too long. Still, she hoped he hadn't noticed anything. I think it was just wanderlust that made me wish to sail here. The words still looked flimsy. She skipped a few lines, then wrote: Who is this pretty lady? Can you introduce me? Looking into his deep eyes, Lynx gestured to the elegant bird nearby, which had been sitting politely this whole time. It seemed so strange that any goose, of all things, would befriend a canine. Yet the little creature seemed perfectly happy to sit quietly beside Edgar, nor did she appear bothered by Lynx's presence. It was very cute. The tattooed woman watched the gray bird with gentle awe, wondering how the two had come together.

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Edgar · 09-25-2012, 06:47 PM

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ooc: It was 3:40 when I posted that last time lol

Edgar took note of her expression, it had seemed to go a little serious. He wondered if she had had any sort of personal relationship with the artist, she must have gotten to know him pretty well while she was getting the ink tattoo on her face; it looked as if it had taken a very long time. The boy knew though that it wasn't the most polite thing to be nosy and go asking questions like that to someone he only just met, so he didn't bother asking her. Yes, he was very talented. For a moment, her eyes slowly averted from his to think of a response to his question for her. She must have left for a more serious reason, like losing a family member or being chased away. Could she also have been mistreated by her family? A lot of luperci in the area seemed to be, and he was too. He didn't usually say that he was mistreated, although he really was, because it was hard for him to say that; he still loved all of his family. He'd only say that he was "left behind", nothing more. It was hard for him to admit that his family were all so full of flaws, he almost wasn't aware of the fact that they were either. The dog's soft eyes settled back on the woman as she had written something down. I think that it was just wanderlust that made me wish to sail here. Edgar nodded toward her, he felt as if she were hiding the entire truth to him. I guess that's part of the reason I came over here, the main reason was because I was left on my own; my family left me behind. The luperci paused for a few moments, thinking of something else to write. Just as he was, she added something else about his bird. She doesn't have a name, I never thought that she'd stay with me as long as she did. She started following me around since I first started out on my own, her flock left her behind. A smile came back to Edgar's face as he remembered her when she was a scrawny little gosling; she had grown a lot by then. It's funny though because I honestly feel like I first found her yesterday, and now I look at her and she's all grown up. Time goes by fast, doesn't it? As he wrote this, he realized all the days he had spent daydreaming and lying around in the woods drawing; he knew he'd have to really find something to do with his life. He had to join a pack.

Lynx de Macian · 09-28-2012, 08:46 PM

XD

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She looked over the red patched dog as he wrote, the dry paper illuminated by moonlight so that she could see his print easily. Her eyebrows furrowed with sadness as he described his own reasons for being here, now. Lynx didn't mean to demean him with her pity. It was simply that Edgar seemed like such a kind, talented soul, not someone who deserved to be abandoned. But she was discovering that the world was full of unfairness. Her aunt Lottie once told her that one just had to always look forward, and at the brighter side of things. Otherwise, it was easy to get lost.

Sure enough, what Edgar wrote next made her forget that she had pitied him. The little goose was abandoned too, which probably explained their endearing friendship. The image of a gangly gosling following the Spaniel around was almost too adorable for the sensitive girl to handle. Once Edgar had given her the paper, she eagerly scrawled a note back to him.

Aye, the time does go by. How long have you had her? She must be a very special goose to trust a predator as a friend. I have seen canines with horses, and a few cats, but never a goose.

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Edgar · 09-29-2012, 12:45 AM

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ooc: Now it's 11:30, I'm so crazy with this game >.<

Eagerly, the tattooed wolf jotted down a response to his question. Time did go by fast for him. He barely hesitated about making decisions, he just made them. Things seemed to be a breeze for him, and he wasn't sure if he liked it or not. Sometimes he'd sit around all depressed wondering how fast the rest of his lifetime would be spent. The dog made sure to spend it carefully; talking with as many luperci and making lots of good friends. None of those "friends" seemed to stick around long enough, it made him sad thinking of how friends come and go. Change was definitely hard for him, but he liked it every once in a while. Aye, the time does go by. How long have you had her? She must be a very special goose to trust a predator as a friend. I have seen canines with horses, and a few cats, but never a goose. The dog nodded, his eyes closing for a moment, as he read the answer to the question. Then as he read on, the grin that he had had earlier came back. He couldn't help but smile when he thought of all the times he spent with his bird. The luperci was sure that his life wouldn't be the same without her, and it was true; it wouldn't. A little more than half a year, possibly. I can recall that I was very young when I was starting out on my own though, so I'm not all that sure. I was just starting to shift though. Yes, she certainly is a special bird! My family often hunted her kind, so I'm aware of how dogs hunt them. There are a lot of canines out there with pets, but I'm the only one who's got a goose. I think that's because geese are very feisty animals and nobody seems to have the patience to put up with them. Pausing for a moment, Edgar then added on to his note. Would you mind telling me about your family? You seem to be one of those people that's got an interesting family history. He hoped this didn't sound nosy, he was curious about her life before Nova Scotia. It was nice to hear a story other than his own.

Lynx de Macian · 10-03-2012, 02:43 PM

Souls will do that to you. :] want to wrap up in a few more posts? and sorry if this is too rambly.

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Though the days sometimes seemed to drag on, months and years went by much faster. There were times when her childhood in Norway didn't seem so long ago. But she knew that it was. Now Lottie was gone and she was here, far away from home, and that scared and saddened her. Soon enough, she would be an old wolf herself, wondering where the years had gone. Lynx tried not to think about it too much. It was too terrifying. Lottie told her not to count the hours, but how she spent them. The girl knew the advice was true, although she hadn't made any real effort to follow it yet.

Half a year ago. Then she and Edgar had to be around the same age. Six months was also a long time for a goose to faithfully follow a canine around. Perhaps she saw Edgar as her flock, her family. With a small giggle, Lynx responded. They are feisty? I would never have guessed. She seems so serene now.

Again, she stopped for a moment. His question about her family carried a small sting, like the prick of a needle. She didn't know how to answer him as the unexplainable guilt she felt about her family returned. Even more than that, she wasn't sure how much he even cared to know. She could put him off by saying too much. But as she looked over the paper at their written conversation, she found her anxiety slipping. Oddly, writing her answer ended up being much easier than speaking it, her words flowing with the pencil. Not very interesting, really. My family was large, siblings, uncles, aunts, cousins. There were many talents, but the most valued were the warriors. That is what the children wished to be. Not me, though. My father nevertheless trained me to fight, but I was more interested in music. My aunt, Liselotte, had a love for the arts, too. We were sort of misfits together, and she taught me to play the fiddle. After she passed on, I did not feel my family had much use for me, so I left.

The only thing Lynx had to remind her of her family was her fiddle, which was tucked away safely in her cottage in Jordheim. The cottage was one of the things she loved most about Vinatta. Never did she fear the precious instrument being lost or stolen.

You are a loner, yes? Do you think of joining a pack?

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Edgar · 10-05-2012, 08:32 AM

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ooc: Yeah, it sure does! We should, this thread's nicccee and looong c: Awesome avatar by the way, it's soooosoo pretty <3

A gentle laugh quickly brightened the wolf's feminine features as she wrote down onto the paper. Giving her an intelligent look, the goose cocked her head to the side and looked at her - not used to sudden sounds since her travelling partener was so silent. After reading over her words, he responded: Yes, they certainly are! I am very suprised myself; she doesn't even get along that well with her own kind. Looking away for a moment, he thought over his own past. A saddened expression painted over his friendly smile - it made him sad just thinking about it. Would he ever see his family again? There was a part of Edgar that dearly wanted to, but the more sensible half always kept him from doing so. He turned back, trying his best to give her a believable smile, and pulled the notepad from her gentle grip. She seemed to have a past very similar to the luperci's; one that she called, "not very interesting". Well, that was a lie. Edgar knew, coming from a large family himself, that when you live in a larger group, things get more interesting and more dramatic. His old smile came back, thinking of that lie, and then he read on. He didn't have much to say, all he could think of writing was exactly what he put down: Yes, I am a loner. You know, my mother played the fiddle real well. Would you mind playing it for me? Although he was deaf, he still enjoyed music a lot. He liked to put his hand on his mother's fiddle as she played and feel the steady vibrations, or just simply watch the bow glide effortlessly over the thin strings.

Lynx de Macian · 10-20-2012, 09:51 PM

thank you! <3
I really am terrible. would you like to make this a fade-to-black where she plays for him and then returns to Vinatta, since I've made you wait so long and this thread is old? Sad

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The feathered creature gave her a bright-eyed stare. Lynx blinked, startled by the intelligence in the bird's dark eyes. There were definitely thoughts behind that gaze, and the pale woman wondered what they could be. She had never considered a goose's thoughts before, or those of any creature that was not canine, for that matter. But Edgar, she thought, must have become very in tune with his feathered companion to have made and kept a friendship with the pretty bird.

The wolfess turned her smile to the goose upon Edgar, who was grinning as he took the notepad into his own hands. A light came to her eyes when the male mentioned that his mother had played the fiddle, and even asked her to play for him. Without taking the paper, Lynx grabbed the pencil and scribbled, I would be honored!, smiled warmly, and took her fiddle and bow from the sling across her back.

She held one in each hand for a brief second. Looking blankly toward the stars, Lynx she thought of a lively tune to play, one with fast-paced, varied notes so that the handsome spaniel could enjoy watching the bow fly in time with her fingers. Finally, she decided on one of the last songs Lottie had taught her, a cheerful, happy song about warriors celebrating a victorious battle.

Taking a deep breath, Lynx tucked the base of the shiny instrument under her chin and began to play.

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