[html] One would not be wrong in suggesting that Tamerlane was solitary by choice rather than temperament. It was difficult to travel in a desired state with a fellow at your side; difficult to be lost in your thoughts with a talker at your ear. The life of a loner had great impact on Tamerlane's personality, which meant that whilst he had a lot of charisma, he still chose to spend most of his days alone. Alone, but not lonely. He awoke early that morning in the packland he had grown used to. A thin coat of powder snow covered the frosty, dead ground, and the brook at the end of the forested valley was almost entirely iced over, its muddy banks rock solid. Although this was the pack he put his name to, Tamerlane did not wake here every morning -- his life still consisted of travelling, and the dips and heights of Bleeding Souls were slowly working their way darkly into his memory.
The tall Luperci ran his long hands over his face as he walked, his head feeling particularly heavy, flexing his stiff muscles and stretching his arms back in an attempt to waken himself up more fully. He only slept a few hours every night, but in truth he preferred to live in the awake world more than anything, so would actively discourage his own rest. Nevertheless, the fact that Tamerlane felt particularly weary that morning was one that could not be escaped, and in mild contemplation he leaned upon a tree, gazing straight up into the thick black canopy above him.
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[html] Her conversation with Valentine had roused a deep maternal coil in her soul, and drove her to visit Storm that morning. Armed with nothing more than her golden colored shawl and her bag of herbs and trinkets, the Alpha of Jaded Shadows was headed to see the mother of her oldest grandchild, Phasma. As she found the borders, it was the scent of the male who had nearly killed Kaena's daughter that caught her attention. Gabriel, as she had known, had not been lying. A low growl slipped from her lips before she could swallow it back, and her hands clenched into a fist against her will. Her eyes flashed in the light, and she wondered what she could possibly do to protect her family when he was so intent on invading the lands they remained in.
The first figure she spotted after crossing the borders was not that of Phasma, the coal colored female who had given her Chael a daughter, but a cream colored being with strange markings on his body. He was shifted, which was a plus, but he so heavily out weighed her that she considered stepping back. Coming in at a very low height, Fatin was not impressive in the slightest bit. She was easily outweighed, and easily outmatched by height and all the other useless facts of life. As a female, she would be a quick kill. All those factors made it so that she froze in her tracks, with only her rank and affiliation to a nearby pack to protect her. Across the frosty air she lifted her voice, hoping it would reach him just fine. "My name is Fatin, Alpha from Jaded Shadows. Pardon me for bothering you Sir, I was looking for Phasma, my daughter." A lie. Well, at least of sorts. Though they had never expressed the connection directly, Fatin certainly felt as if the ebony female was her child. She had so, so many after all. Though she was invading his lands, she hoped he would see she meant no harm in doing so. She was just a neighboring woman after all, looking for her family. She offered him a soft smile, not sure if he would even care. But anything would better than nothing on that particular chilly morning. [/html]
[html] Tucking his hands behind his lean back and turning his dark eyes from one shred of canopy to the next, Tamerlane’s pierced ear twitched briefly as someone else was sensed nearby. Approaching him – very much from a distance – was a petite Luperci with flaming red hair and intelligent emerald eyes visible even from here. He remained where he was, quite peaceable, showing no signs of not allowing the female to draw closer. The stranger introduced herself as a creature that would not doubt be incredibly welcome in Storm – an agreeable, polite sort, mother of one of the leaders, and the Alpha of a neighbouring pack. Phasma Kiles? I don’t know where she is at the moment, he replied in his dulcet tones, though I’m sure you’re more than welcome here – you could call for her.
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She relaxed as the male seemed to not be upset in the slightest by her presence - a wonderful reaction considering the girl was no fool; she knew she had the disadvantage of strength and size in any fight. Her ears perked, listening to his voice, memorizing it in her strange way..perhaps she could claim it was her favorite part of a person. If it wasn't, it was certainly a tie with the eyes. She smiled kindly, lifting a hand to brush away the strands of hair that had fallen into her eyes. "It is rather early....perhaps I should be kind and let her sleep in...." a small grin emerged out of the smile that had previously been on her lips, and she tested the two ideas. Call her daughter, potentially waking her up, or just stay and chat with the male for a bit until it was a reasonable hour and then hunt the ebony girl down. She had no idea, just by appearance or the words he had said so far, that he probably would have rather spent the morning alone, not babysitting a nearby packs leader. "Are you always up so early?" A random question to ask, but when was Fatin not random? Her tail gave a few wags, and she waited both for his response and opinion on waking Phasma.
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[html] At Fatin’s words, a flurry of amusement swept over Tamerlane’s features and he arched an eyebrow. If you didn’t want to see Phasma so early, why did you come here so early? he asked, simple logic expecting a flustered excuse for an answer. At her question, the sojourning male nodded. He didn’t sleep often – staying awake and active was his forte, and sleeping was just wasting the day.
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The grin remained when he spoke, and she looked for a brief second, a bit flabbergasted by his simple logic. Ever quick on the draw though, Fatin wasn't left stunned for very long. "I'm oh so very old!" She faked a whine, as if to illustrate the point. "I assumed it would take longer to get here!" It had been so very long since she had been to Storm after all, it was an honest statement that she assumed it would take longer to get here from Jaded Shadows than it had. "I must confess, I've gotten rather lazy in my old age. But if a purpose is given to me, like coming here this morning, I'm fine to start off at any hour, so long as I get the job done." Honesty, as always, was the best style she felt.
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[html] | With a creature as unconventional as Tamerlane, and one as charming as Fatin, conversation was unlikely to run in the traditional manner, pouring over small-talk and refusing to wander off on tangents. So a new subject interested him as her joking excuse was one of 'old age'. The young traveller swept his dark eyes briefly over Fatin's small and agile form; over the curvature of her fiery hair and to the outstanding feature of quiet green eyes. Old? he questioned, not to sound complimentary, but you don't look a day over two years. How old are you? I want to disallow you to use 'old age' as an excuse, he added with dark good humour. |
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grinning again at his choice of response, Fatin was more than pleased she had made the journey today that she had. It was uncommon for her to meet a stranger from Storm and hit it off so well, Adreon, Cross, and Gibraltar had been the only exceptions. The rest, she had not done so well with. He complimented her appearance, in a way, and the girl couldn't help but hold back a giggle. Oh, she was much older than that! It was in her blood though, good genes and hard work through life had kept her from ending up a fat and lounging creature as she got older. It also kept her from being useless and crippled. "Actually, I'm turning six in May."How strange it was to tell a complete stranger her real age. Most people, like Tamerlane, saw her as younger and she left it that way. But, the five year old was in a good mood - as was her norm - and she was presented with the best possible question - one sugar coated with a compliment. "Whether you had meant to or not, this old girl found the words very complimentary, and so she thanks you for them." Strange, but she found she very much liked talking to this man. Perhaps it was his alluring appearance, the marks upon his body that gave off the impression of a weathered traveler, or something in his eyes even. Closing what had been left of the distance between them, Fatin looked up at him with quiet, absorbing eyes. She drank in his features, the coal of the markings against the cream of his skin. It was beautiful. "Did you do them yourself, or are they a badge for conquering the road less traveled?" boldly she asked the question, the hand holding her shawl closed was also resting over her own marking - but it was the crest of her family, and most of the time the fluff of her neck and chest covered it anyways.
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[html] | Tamerlane had not been simply turning on the charm when he had estimated her age. Her soft, feminine laugh was girly and innocent like a child’s; there was not a blemish of age he could see upon her, and let us not forget her diminutive size which, although a disadvantage in defence and attack, suited her perfectly. That was not to say he had even a taste of her temperament yet. There was a brief pause after Fatin noticed the thin ‘tattoos’ wound from his face all the way down to his trim waist; he was unaware of them at the moment. It was not often that a wild creature saw a mirror, and it was custom for all but the vain to ignore their reflections in the surfaces of water. He ran his fingers briefly over the winding mark on his arm as he recalled what she was talking about. Just consider them stories, and, assuming that Fatin was as astutely inquisitive as he took her to be, he added; stories unlikely to ever be told. Only half joking. You don’t look six, he said honestly, though you do look to have a story to tell. |
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so I went from lazy with no table to with table, and I'm back to lazy now ;; *curses flu!*
[html] "Quite a few, no doubt!" She shot back, an enthusiastic nod accompanying her statement. Her life's story....really began at the point of the bear attack, and had many ups, and many downs. It was nothing too special in her opinion, but it was her own story, and she was proud of it. There were many she knew who had dull, faint tales of their lives with nothing interesting to show for it. At least she could die and be proud of what she had accomplished, and better yet, all that she had been part of. "The most present tale of my life involves me raising four children.....and trying to keep an eye out on all the others I have across the lands." She smiled softly at the thought of her extended family, though some might have thought it a wasted venture to have so many and not have them at her side always. She was not that type of mother. She never wanted a child of hers to look back and wonder 'well, what if I had done this, rather than that?' at her expense. She wanted their tales of adventure to soothe her on her deathbed, when she was far too old to weave tales herself. "I collect family members like I collect stories....by blood, mateship, and adoption I guess I'm probably connected to half the lands by this point. I've spent so much time here that it was bound to happen." there was no remorse, not a hint of regret in her voice at the realization. She loved her family, all of it. If your marks tell the tale of your life, it must have been some adventure up until this point....do you miss the freedom a vagabond has?" She hoped that her assumption was correct, otherwise, she would have looked like a fool. Perhaps she could blame it on being senile! But her eyes, bright and clear, would dispel such a story right on the spot. For a brief time she had shared the wanderer's life....it was fun, and even dangerous, but it had not suited her. She needed a home and a family to call her own, maybe that was why she was so desperate to find someone to share her life with. Who knew really.
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[html] | There was a dark smile of amusement at Fatin’s general temperament, if not the humour of her words. She was a curious sort, very much suited to her seeming disposition of a big old matron bear with open arms, many children, a huge amount of love to go around and a very happy-go-lucky, intelligent adoration for life in general. Yet at the same time, she looked like a fiery little girl, lithely voluptuous with her smouldering green eyes that so contradicted her plight of utmost innocence. At the inquiry as to how much he missed life as a vagabond, he opened his large hand expressively as if to indicate their surroundings. I’m just as free here, he said, at least mentally. And Storm is a base for my travels, rather than an all-day home, so I have physical freedom too; I remain a traveller, and a loner. Tamerlane revisited Fatin’s earlier word, being one prone to requesting lore. As one that is connected to so many of them, what would you say are the most eminent of the Bleeding Souls families, bar Lykoi? |
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