Like Another Hole in the Head
#1
[html]This thread *IS* backdated, to before whenever Agani found Tayui. I'll find the exact dates for whoever shows up.



Your turn, you'd rather leave than live and learn. That's why, you want an end, and so do I. This time, I believe I'll leave it all behind. Tongue tied from all the little things, and they're the reason that I scream: I need you probably as bad as I need another hole in the head-



"Stop. Singing," Agani growled, a frown on his face as he tugged absently at his ear. For the past several weeks, the unknown creature whose voice was in his head had gotten steadily louder and bolder and... More irritating. She enjoyed singing. He was certain she was a female, even though she never told him so, and he was also certain she was somewhere nearby, although he could never, ever see her. Even when he looked.



You are no fun, she said petulantly. He could practically hear her pouting. Did that mean she had lips? How many animals could perfect a pout?



These thoughts, and the impromptu song that his head-friend improvised, occured as Agani lay on his back, staring up through the thin canopy of the autumn Dampwoods, and into the sky above. The weather would generally be considered poor, with scattered clouds and surprise showers, but Agani saw the stars between the clouds, and relished the cool kisses of the rain when it was there, so he was content to stargaze while he thought.



Stars were easy to find, compared to his prize. And even if you saw no constellations, you could make them up. That was the beauty of the heavens: once upon a time, those pictures in the skies were merely stories by a creative mind. He was a creative mind, perhaps his stories would be printed in the stars one day. It was unlikely.
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#2
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I'm in need of a few backdated threads myself, as it were. Hope you don't mind me crashing the party, as they say?

The autumn evening was damp and chilly, causing the thin-pelted canine to don a thick cloak woven from Scottish wool. The fabric was dark crimson in hue and contrasted starkly with her copper-sable-and-cream coloration. Valrian had consented to brave the weather this evening as well, and his brilliant alabaster plumage was easily visible from where he sat huddled close to Festivity's neck under the wide, floppy hood. Well, consented might be a stretch in terminology, as the original plan had been to be back to the city before sunset, which was now some hours past. The mynah had complained -- and would continue to complain -- about the weather since it started patchily raining midday, but his hybrid companion didn't mind the wetness so much. The garb made it easy to ignore and the water droplets turned the fall foliage into a gallery of glittering enchantment, like some fairy-realm from one of her more far-fetched tales.



Valrian had long ago lapsed into sullen silence which left Festivity free to enjoy herself in peace. The night was young, the lands were new, and fresh view in front was enough to bring a smile to her odd, compact face. Little was she aware that others might be out enjoying the crisp, soggy air until she nearly fell over him. "Whoop!" A trip and a stumble; a flutter of vivid wings. Then with regained balance, her rich and accented voice querying, "I'm so sorry, are you okay?"

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#3
[html]No problem =D

Was I just stepped on?! was the first thought that ran through Agani's mind, as he tried to blink the stars from his vision and uncurl himself from the foetal position his body had instinctively gained. The voice in his head laughed hysterically at him, giving no answer, as he shook his head and propped himself up on his elbows, trying to find the person the foot that had recently made contact with his stomach was attached to.



It turned out she wasn't quite a wolf, with ears as big as his and a patchwork pelt under a patchwork coat and a... Bird. On her shoulder. Perhaps he wasn't the odd one in this situation. When she stopped swimming, he realised she must have said something, since she was staring at him with a rather apologetic look on her face.



"I'm sorry... If you s-s-said anything, I didn't he-hear you. I can't." He was getting tired of this. He needed a sign, attached to his forehead, that read, "Hey, I'm deaf as a board! Nice to meet you."



"If you t-t-talk slow, I can maybe read it."
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#4
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The white-winged bird Valrian took to the nearest treetop when his mistress stumbled. His unhelpful chatter did not aide the situation, and Festivity found herself lacking comprehension for a moment or two. Between tripping over someone and then not receiving the reply she expected to hear, reality took its time sinking in. "Oh," she said, scrambling to compose her usual quota of social grace, "I am sorry. Are you alright?" The African hybrid faced the wolf while she spoke, hoping her words were readable. Being a non-native speaker - although a very fluent one - she had no idea if the lip movements would be the same.



Unbidden, she recalled traders in remote areas using signs to speak with one another when they had no mutual tongue between them. Festivity wondered if the other lupine knew how to talk with his hands; not that she would understand - sign language was one she hadn't learned. "My name is Festivity." Well, now that she was here and making a fool out of herself, she might as well plunge in feet first. Social by nature, she had never been able to resist meeting a new face.

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#5
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Sorry. Are you all right? Was what he read from her face, and he nodded quite pleasently, pulling himself into a sitting position to better converse with her. Although logically, he wasn't really conversing.



"I'm f-f-fine. Just squishy."



He wondered if she could write, but kept his eyes on her as he reached back for his pack and began to rummage through it for his piece of slate and one of the myriad bits of chalk he had. It took him a moment to realise that she was referring to herself, partly through the half-gestures she made towards her person, and then he had to figure out the strange word that he assumed was her name.



"F... Festy?" he repeated, hoping he was close. "I'm Agani, and," he added, finally stabbing a bit of pink chalk with a claw and waving it in her general direction, the small square of slate balanced on his knee, "If you c-c-can write some st-st-stuff, talking might be easier." He smiled up at her, offering the chalk in a slightly less aggressive manner.



"Why are you out here?"
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