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• Searlait
• July 5, 2005
• Luperci
• killibegs@gmail.com
The wind whistled through the trees, creating an eerie nighttime howl. The snowfall didn’t seem as steady as usual because of this; the gusts brought the large white flakes down upon the earth in spurts. Like an artery cut open. Searlait considered this for a moment, surprisingly with no shudder or recoil; her negative outlook never led her to startle herself. It had been this way for several months, this change in her; perhaps a year ago a comparison like that would have made her stomach churn. But that wasn’t the case anymore. She’d changed, for neither the worse nor the better – when was change one or the other?
The wind of the early night was strong enough to chill her, weaving its hungry fingers through the gray of her coat. She stood in a forest, and it belonged to someone. She’d been searching for two weeks now, finally fed up with life as a loner, with little to no connection to others. And her search had brought her here. In her non-shifted form, the one that she preferred, she’d been able to cover a lot of ground in those nerve-wracking two weeks. She didn’t know exactly how far she’d gone, but she guessed it had been quite a distance. She was somewhat proud of herself, an emotion she rarely felt.
These trees were eerie in themselves – the whole place was, but she supposed she enjoyed it. She could smell water nearby, and longed to wander toward the source of the scent to take a drink. But that could come later. She tried not to focus on the things she needed at the moment – a drink, a meal, to forget Cesaire. Instead, she planned out what she was going to say should she be found there, on the borders but trespassing nonetheless. She was oddly not too nervous; just eager to get this over with so she could figure out if she'd be able to begin to fulfill her needs. The silver-blue eyed girl began to impatiently pace between two large trees, leaving a plethora of prints in the snow as she did so.
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Have you gotten permission to play a second character? :o
It was not so surprising after all because nothing ever changed. If there was no demon to possess his raged body in the night, then there would be nightmares and repetitive memories that he was halfway caught between wanting to forget them and wanting to dwell on them until he found some sort of forced peace in himself. The den had been enlarged to accommodate several rooms now so his daughter could sleep on her own, but the proximity still scared him sometimes and he had taken to waking startled several times in the night. In a way, he expected himself to eventually revert back to the toothy-grinned monster; whatever break he was on now would not last long. But he had always been a pessimist after all.
So a trail of fresh and restless footprints led away from the old oak tree under which his den was housed and he wandered his way to the borders. It had been a while already since he had really patrolled there and really, in the middle of the night, it probably wasn't the most useful thing he could be doing. But wolves and wanderers especially had always kept strange schedules so when he caught a stranger on the wind, he was hardly surprised. Then again, few things surprised Laruku anymore. The tattered hybrid stalked towards her, head low to avoid the screaming wind. The fog was rolling in behind him like an army following its general and crimson eyes regarded the femme tiredly. Waiting for something? he asked stiffly, the swallowed again at the twinge of pain from the mostly-healed gash across his throat.
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Yep, I did! Sorry for not saying so in my first post. And I’ll be quicker – this week has been crazy-busy.
She paused her tireless pacing as the aroma of the approaching male alerted her. As per usual, his scent came first; way before any of her other senses were triggered. She sighed, her nervousness strengthening slightly as she continued to plan out what route she would take with this. It would be different depending on how she calculated his status – a high rank: her whole deal. A lower one, and only part of it. She didn’t feel it necessary to go to extremes with someone who didn’t matter. Searlait soon also caught the movement in the trees, and the male appeared first as a waning shadow beneath the moonlight, then as a colored hybrid with a battered-up look about him. His warm-colored coat of browns was riddled with scars, giving the foreshadowing of a tale she’d probably never hear.
His roughness of looks played a part in telling her his “status,” but it could not have been the only indicator. Simply, he also had the air of authority; she could see it in his reserved and irritated voice and in the way he carried himself. He looked exhausted. She had predicted something like that at this hour. For his sake, she’d make this as quick as possible – but first, she had to establish that her assumption about his rank had been right. She remained standing - still, however - and she straightened herself inconspicuously. Searlait regarded him with a steely silvery-sky gaze. Yes. A leader of this pack. That would be you?
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S'all good. :3
He would not consider himself a leader by anyone's definition. There was nothing to lead, really. Everyone kept to themselves and took care of themselves; all he really did was maintain a line at the borders so they kept out of other people's lands. The ranks he kept in his head were more based off their length of stay than any personal knowledge of his members and he knew that none of them knew anything important about him because if they did, they shouldn't stand to keep him where he was. But the hybrid shrugged his scarred shoulders at the femme. Laruku Tears, he offered half-heartedly, Close enough, was his answer to her question of leadership. He had inherited the curse and the madness, that was all. The pack was just a secondary thing.
If you're looking for a place to stay, fine, he continued, Just play nice and don't set anything on fire and I'm sure we'll be okay. Perhaps it was a humorous suggestion, but he said it all with the same straight and stony face. It didn't matter what else she had to offer, if anything at all. It didn't even matter if she had come from a horrible story in which she had been an evil antagonist -- as long as none of it followed her (or if he never found out), then it just didn't matter. What's your name?
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No, Searlait had no sob-stories to boast of or cry over. And she was no mass murderer disguised as an innocent girl, with plans of bringing doom to Clouded Tears. She was just an ordinary girl with French heritage, the product of an uptight family and a broken heart. She had planned a way around giving her whole tale, so that she wouldn’t have to put up with the pity of whoever found her there, and also to save that person from wishing to break out violins as she spoke. No, she figured this male had a lot on his mind, being a wolf of a high rank in what she assumed was a large pack. Her first perception of him was someone roughened by years of leadership, perhaps the drill-sergeant type.
But she was way off. He didn’t seem to care one way or another about who she was, and his comment made her blink and smile. I’ll try. Her grin faded, as he hadn’t given any hint of a smile of his own. She reverted back to marveling silently toward the way he didn’t seem to care about her background – by now she would have expected at least a little bit of wheedling. She gazed at him, as if waiting, before he asked for her name. Just Searlait. Apologies; I forgot my manners. she said, hoping he wouldn’t question her lack of a surname. And do you need anything else from me? Why I’m here; my… skills…?
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Went ahead and titled you, but we can continue this. 
He knew he was probably making her uncomfortable with his lack of tone or expression; he needed to put forth more effort because if he was going to do something at all, he should at least be trying a little, right? So what if he had never wanted it? He hadn't left and he hadn't died and so he was still doing it -- so do it better, you worthless idiot. If you want to tell me, I'll listen, he offered with a somewhat forced smile though it might have counted as being genuine, Some people just don't like sharing and I don't think it matters much in the end. Because if pasts were everything, then he would have and be nothing. Besides, most people looking for a new place to stay were also looking for a new start -- why force them to recall what they were likely running away from?
Everyone has their own set of skills, he continued, And I'm sure they're useful in one way or another. Laruku himself had nothing spectacular to offer anyway -- he was an average hunter, swift, but without great endurance; he had come out of a lot of fights alive, but he would consider many of them to be flukes, especially the one that had only left the scars across his throat. He could read and write words and music, but rarely did so anymore. Nothing special in either case. I think the most important thing you could offer is caring and if you have it, then you'll stay. Everyone else left, but that was okay too. Sometimes leaving was a part of caring. So then there wasn't really a "most important" thing, really.
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AGAIN, sorry for the wait.
She was definitely taken aback; she’d already decided that. But she liked it. She was always in for a few surprises; they made life interesting, and this male and his antics were most certainly interesting. He gave her his reasons, and she stood still for a moment, before her ears flittered back in thought and her tail began to wave steadily behind her. She didn’t have to say anything. Nothing at all. Her gave the choice totally, and even said he would take the time to listen to her should she decide to tell him. She returned the smile he gave her, though she could tell it was forced. Whether or not there was real meaning to it, she didn’t know.
She didn’t know whether or not she should tell him. Even if it didn’t matter to him, his impression of her might be improved if he knew a few things about her. But it was a simple as she didn’t really feel like giving him information about herself, and didn’t want to waste either of their time ticking off what she was good at. Which wasn’t much. She could run quite fast, she could read and write, and was eager to help out with whatever needed an extra mind. She continued to smile subtly before speaking in her soft but firm way. No, if there’s no need, I don’t think I’d like to talk about myself. I will say that I do care, and if ever you need an extra hand, I’m hardly ever too busy. Yes, she spent a lot of time to herself, and getting involved was one thing she really wanted to work at.
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