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It had been six days since she had come to this peculiar little place. And in those six days, Aurèle had not managed to secure herself a den. She knew that was in part because of her nature (and because she had not had permanent residence in four years) and in part due to remarkably solid ground. The temperature had warmed enough to unthaw the most frozen layer, which she had been digging at for nearly half an hour. Her forepaws worked like pistons, scraping and tearing at the soil, and she was soon rewarded for this by reaching the soft dirt underneath.
The white and tan female worked with the mindless process of a machine, removing black-brown earth from the small rise and sending it flying through the cold air. She made it only large enough to fit herself comfortably for the time being—Aurèle was not one to put stock in such residence, and if she found appropriate to do so later, she would expand it.
A lack of greenery and anything dry made her unable to do much more then wind up with a small burrow, but for the time being, she was content with that. Stepping back and shaking off the loose soil, she snorted dust from her nose and spared a glance to the clear sky.
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The pale cream boy was just wondering, trying not to trip on the scarf coiled in his neck that was being dragged on the ground, wrapping on his feet. He had found it (or stolen it) in an abandoned den (or not). It was a long, piece of clothe, with white and yellow stripes, and it was like a tube. He tryed to use it as a sock, putting his leg inside the hole,but it was way too long for his shorty limbs. Looking for someone to cut it in smaller parts, something he couldn't do yet, the white-spotted boy used it as a scarf.
He was trying to find a decent den where he could move to, like his sisters and brother were trying to do. But, instead of waisting his time digging one, he would go after an old one. When he was starting to give up, his blueish-silver eyes met a recent hole on the ground. He smiled and ran to it, but his smile faded as he saw that there was someone near it, with the paws full of dirt. He was disappointed, of course, but not so much. At least, he could get some help with the scarf-sock.
"Hello?" he greeted, with an question tone. "Would you help me?" he asked, uncoiling the cloth from his neck, in a suggestive way. He tilted his head as the scent of the stranger reached on his nose. It seemed so familiar, so did the pelt. It reminded him of his mother.
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The noise gave the boy away almost as suddenly as his scent. Aurèle lowered her head and was greeted by the louder of her two nephews (from memory, at least) and recalled his name almost instantly. Regardless of whatever else plagued her, at least that was still as photographic as ever. Additionally, his eyes were lighter then his brother’s. Both of the boys had taken after their mother. The girls, as she recalled, had not.
“You’re just like your mother,” Aurèle chided, though the corners of her mouth were turned up. “She always used to bother me when I was working. What do you need, Attila?”
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Shorty -.-'
Attila was not very pleased with his aunt. Yes, he reconized her. Who else could smell and look so much like her?It was indirectly telling him that he was bothering her. Good, now even her was not on his side, but who else was? Who would? Someday, he was going to find this someone, but meanwhile...
"Aah, will you cut thif in four? I wanna ufe them af fockf." He told her, wanting to end this quickly and restart looking for a usable den. He knew it might take a while to fit those, but he was not caring much. Maybe he could find more things while analysing the empty dens. Those would be usefull when he phased. He was very sure that he was going to be a Luperci because of his white tuft in the top of his head. He always thought of this as a growing mane.
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As soon as he started speaking again, her ears turned forward. It was the peculiar speech problem that made her eyebrows furrow slightly, puzzled. Obviously, though young, he was able to speak well enough. She would have to ask Tayui once she made a point to find her. Turning her gaze down to the scarf, she sighed and then looked back at the boy. Were his eyes a shade or two darker, he might have passed for her silly brother—of course, she hadn’t seen Bart in years, so who knew what he looked like now.
The shift took a few moments, her limbs stretching and changing and shooting mild pain through her body. Once finished, Aurèle shook out her long hair and pushed it out of her face with one hand. “Hand it over,” she nearly demanded, holding out her other hand.
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Shorty -.-'
The pale boy watched interested at her shift of forms. Tons of questions fluttered in his young mind, like... 'Does it hurt?' 'How does she do it?' 'Is as simple as it looks?' When will be my first shift?' And so many others, the olders sultred by the newest, until it ended, and the flow of questions stopped. Looking for a second at her paw... hand actually, studying it quickly until he got the tip of the clith with his mouth and handled it to the white female. He then looked at his own paw, turning it around, thinking how it would become a hand, like hers. The questions returned, stronger and quicker.
He shook his head twice, pretending to forget those questions he couldn't answer yet, though they resisted on his head for a while, but not too long. His attenttion came back to the white female.
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She moved quickly, her nails slitting the fabric with ease. It was sloppy, but it would suit his purpose. Her eyes lifted from the task at hand and caught her nephew studying his own leg, and she found some amusement in this. “You’ll be able to do this soon,” she offered, continuing with the scarf. Shaking her hair out of her face, she snipped off the second piece and moved onto the third. It was a menial task, one she found little pleasure in—but it was better then dealing with the babbling nonsense his sister had offered her.
With the third and final cut done, she motioned to his leg. “Come here and I’ll put them on.”
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Sorry the late -.-'
He smiled with his aunt's comment at his stare at her transformation. He watched how skilled she cutted the scarf. The pale boy gave a quick glance at his paws, comparing his paw to the female's hand, thinking at the things he would be able to do if he got hands, the possibilities. Of course, he thought of the mean, bully things he would do with those. An evil grin was starting to show in his face when he thought of Claudius face at his dire tricks when the white woman called for his attention.
Mechanically, he walked the few steps that separated them and sat, streching his limbs out so she could put the socks in his tiny legs.
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