Wanna paint the pain away
#1
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She could smell him, little bits of him, through certain areas of the lands. It seemed, at least to her nose, that he hadn't quite explored as much as she thought he might. Mahlouk, the young man who Ayegali suddenly found herself so attached to, had been on her mind since the moment that she had met him. He was young, perhaps not even a year old, and already he had been through more things than she could imagine, things that she both did and did not understand. The boy had, unknowingly, given the raven colored Kalona a goal, to do whatever she could to make his life better, to start him over on a happier and pain free path.



The sun had gone down long since she had settled in front of the great fire with the large basket at her side. It was there that she worked, even as the moon rose the very top of the sky, sorting and packing and working by firelight. She had spent the day gathering the items that Mahlouk would need, paints and brushes and cloths, various berries that they had stored away to make new paints, and she would take them to him when the sun finally rose again. The night was quiet and Ayegali, lost in her thoughts and work, was just as quiet. She continued to pack the basket carefully, making sure nothing would spill or mix, trying to make everything as perfect as she hoped it would be.

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#2
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     Though her den was now set up, Aurèle was not one to be found there during the night. She remained on the same pattern she had been living with for three years now. When she had first left, following the fire, she had not needed to change this.
     The night terrors convinced her otherwise.
     So she had, for three years, become almost exclusively nocturnal. She traveled by starlight and the moon, and could find her way through the pitch black that seemed to frighten others. Now, with the glow of a full moon at her back, the pale woman might have been a ghost or specter, if only for her color and the hell-fire in her eyes. She walked without trepidation and followed instinct and impulse, as she always had.
     A scent suddenly triggered a flash of a terrible memory and she stopped dead in her tracks. For one terrible moment she was frozen in that place—a wave of emotions broke over her face, twisting it from horror to a twisted snarl, and then she looked up to the moon and remembered the cold and felt nothing. Her head turned down minutes later and she exhaled, then approached the source. The composure she refused to let fall remained placid as she found the source, and a woman she did not recognize.




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#3
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One of the wonderful things about Mahlouk had been, whether he knew it or not, the fact that his arrival had taken many of the serious pressures and worries off of the Kalona. As she sat tending to his 'gift basket' her mind no longer lingered on her missing siblings, the members of the tribe who had been kept behind due to a storm. She hadn't heard from them in weeks, not even a sign from their spirits, and for the time the relief of not thinking about them was great. They were not forgotten, of course, but it was good to have a single night of not worrying about them constantly. The Kalona had someone new to worry over, someone that she actually had the ability to help, and that was likely part of the reason that she wanted to help him so badly.



It wasn't the sound of the woman's steps that made Ayegali aware that she was no longer alone. Rather, it was the faint scent that seemed to find it's way to her nose, despite the strong scent of burning wood and brush that the great fire gave off. "Hello.." The woman said, not bothering to turn and see who it might have been as she continued to arrange things in the basket. Finally, pleased with how things were arranged and that moving the basket just a bit wouldn't cause anything to topple over, she slid herself around on the ground, turning to face the stranger that had appeared behind her. "I'm Ayegali, the Kalona here." It was obvious that they had never met but the woman's scent clearly held the very same one that now clung to their lands. Again, just as with Catherine, she was likely someone that Dawali had met.

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#4
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     Though she was ignorant, in a great may ways, to the going-ons of this tribe, Aurèle recognized dominance in her companion. She attributed this and the familiar scent with the title, marking her as the leader. The man who had accepted her had been similar in this aspect, but his presence was not as felt. Aurèle could not mark it, exactly, but knew something was special about this girl.
     Approaching calmly, the pale woman began to speak. “Aurèle Aston. I only recently joined.” She came to a halt across the fire, though did not settle. She would not do so unless invited, as she had been taught. “You have quite an interesting place here.” Between the peculiar animals and overbearing sensation of being watched (which may or may not have been simple paranoia) she found the air strange.





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