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300 + Geneva (:
Three days had gone by since that fateful day; Friday the thirteenth. Tsk. Foolish were those who feared that number. Once upon a time, Honoré had been one of those fools, but that wasn't the case any longer. Three days ago, his life had changed for the better and it was all thanks to the man who called himself the Patriarch. Number thirteen now officially kicked ass! The alabaster male now had a place to call his home, just the thought of it made him want to tell the whole world. Perhaps he was being a little too enthusiastic but as long as no one could read his mind, there was nothing to be embarrassed about.
Honoré had been hiding out in a small cabin along the old country road, the littlest one of the bunch. It was the first one he'd come across, and although there were plenty of other cabins that seemed bigger, he'd picked that one as his home. It contained a bed and a small square table, no more no less. As long as he had somewhere to sit and write his poetry, he was a happy man. Honoré had purposely been avoiding his so-called pack mates for the first few days. He wasn't yet accustomed to the pack lands and he preferred to get settled in before meeting new faces. Fair enough, no? The Quebec native was a finicky wolf in many ways. It really wasn't like him to be so introverted; that phase would surely pass once he felt comfortable enough, which generally did not take very long.
The five-year-old male found himself sitting on the picnic table situated behind his the cottage he'd claimed as his own, bronze-colored eyes riveted towards the clear night sky. With his luck as of late, he couldn't help but wonder if a shooting star would cross his path. Now that would be the cherry on top of the cake. His gaze was glued to the firmament, completely oblivious to the world around him. There was something incredibly peaceful about stargazing.
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[html] http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j40/k ... ump/12.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> At the moment twilight embraced the firmament, Geneva felt an uncharacteristic need to be under open sky. It wasn't that she minded being outdoors, and the night sky held a special place in her heart. But the winter had cured her of any frequent desire to be outdoors. When Geneva had arrived in these lands at the beginning of winter, she had been recovering from both emotional and physical losses. It had taken several extra weeks for her thick, winter coat to grow in and she had grown accustomed to spending most of her time inside at that point.
But at that point, she had belonged to Crimson Dreams. So much had changed. She had just been figuring everything out - sorting through turmoil, coming to terms with loss. In such a short span of time, she had been changed, her life transformed in ways she had never imagined. She had experienced the loss of her own children and mate, but had grown to love Naniko and Anu's litter with just as much ferocity. She had stretched against and broken the boundaries which had kept her contained so deeply inside herself. Geneva had always been quiet, but now she no longer passed like a gray-scaled shadow through the world.
The small boned wolfess inhaled the clean night air in silent pleasure. She walked on two legs now, although her hands were empty of the tools she usually carried while in this form. She passed through rows of cabins, weaving carelessly off course when the mood struck her. Geneva was unnaturally short, although in perfect proportion. Her frame closely resembled that of a child's about to make the first steps into adulthood, and she had no sense of smell to speak of. Usually, these factors would put a lid on any exploration. But Phoenix Valley was her home now, and she figured it was time to start acting like it. Lime green eyes lit up when she saw the form of a cream colored man contemplating the sky. She looked up herself, for a moment lost in the stories of the stars, before she returned her eyes to the stranger. "Hello," she said softly. "See anything of interest up there tonight?"
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The night was still young and full of promises. Honoré inhaled deeply, taking a fair amount of crisp evening air into his lungs. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so free-spirited. Not having to worry about food or shelter was wonderful. A soft greeting drifted over to his ears and the Loas turned toward the owner of such a soothing melody, as if to make sure it wasn’t eventide’s breeze playing tricks on him. It wasn’t. What he saw brought a smile to his lips; a petite female with a pelt similar to his in color.
“Salut mam’zelle,” he replied amiably, not stopping to realize that perhaps the girl did not know what it meant. She seemed like a smart cookie though; it probably wouldn’t take her too long to catch on. His smile widened when she brought forth a question and he nodded affirmatively, confirming the fact that there was indeed something interesting looming high above their heads. Eyes of metallic bronze returned to the heavenly bodies, absent-mindedly searching for the brightest one of the bunch.
“Been feeling lucky lately. Waiting for a shooting star,” he stated matter-of-factly, somewhat giving the impression that comets were a frequent phenomenon. The arctic wolf moved over to the left, giving the emerald-eyed wolfess an opportunity to take a seat beside him if she wished to. “Would you like to join me, mam'zelle?”
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[html] http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j40/k ... ump/12.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> The sound of his voice stopped her in her tracks for a few minutes. She blinked at the charming lilt in his words as she tried to identify it. It was only then that the strains of partly foreign language reached her, and Geneva smiled at the friendly male. The grayscale wolfess dipped her head in greeting, her mind searching for the proper words. "Greetings, umm...monsieur," she said, stumbling over the pronunciation of the word. She laughed softly, a bit embarrassed, but moved to slip in beside him.
She rested her elbows on the rough surface of the wooden table, folding her hands as she flicked her gaze upward to the pinpricks of light in the sky. She had been enamored of the night sky since she could remember. Growing up, she had been afraid of a lot of things. But Geneva had never been afraid of the dark. She had lived for the times when the sun would go down, content to dance in the shadows and silvered light of stars where no one could see her.
Geneva nodded, flicking lime green eyes back to the male. "It is good to know someone around here's been lucky," she said, laughing lightly. She was glad to find someone who seemed so content and happy. It seemed that as spring came, things were getting better. She hoped that things continued to improve. "My name is Geneva," she offered the male, her eyes returning to the sky.
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Her attempt at pronouncing the word ‘monsieur’ accurately was rewarded with a smirk. How cute. It pleased him to see other people put forth efforts to communicate in French, even if it was only a word or two. Honoré watched his new acquaintance quizzically, quite fascinated with her small knowledge of the language. Had she met other french-speaking wolves during her stay here at ‘Souls? He hadn’t, not since he’d left his native province. Although his mother tongue was far different from the one spoken in France, it’d still be the coolest thing if he could find someone to actually speak Québécois with.
The Loas hadn’t expected to make friends so easily. But this girl, everything about her radiated warmth and innocence. He couldn’t help but note how she stared up at the sky, with a fascination similar to his. It didn’t take a genius to find out that she too, was a dreamer. Did she read or write poetry? If Honoré hadn’t been so insecure about his hobby, perhaps he would’ve mentioned it to her.
“Why? Have you not been lucky too, mam’zelle?” he inquired, anticipating the answer that would allow him to get to know her a little better. When she introduced herself, the arctic wolf politely returned the gesture by providing her with his name. “Ah, Genève,” he repeated, preferring the french version of her name. It had a pretty ring to it. “My name is Honoré, enchanté de faire votre connaissance.”
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[html] http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j40/k ... ump/12.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> The grayscale woman couldn't help the small laugh that fluttered up from her throat, gentle as butterfly wings that carried the sound out into the quiet night. She loved the sound of his voice and the way that his words snaked through the air with the sound of his strange, quaint accent. She had never had the good fortune of hearing a native French speaker speak in their beautiful mother tongue for a prolonged period. And now, it seemed as though there was one here in Phoenix Valley.
"Oh, things have been....evening out," she said, musing in the night air. It wasn't that life hadn't had its small wonders, but sadness still waited in the wings of her heart. There was so much for her to be grateful for, but so much she didn't want to think about too closely either. Life had been interesting, charming and intense all at the same time. She couldn't really complain, per se. But she didn't feel contentment yet. There was a crucial piece of her heart hiding out somewhere that she had yet to find.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Honore," she said, a smile on her face, though she kept her eyes pinned to the constellations as she tried to remember each of their stories. "What would you wish for?" she asked, returning to the topic of shooting stars.
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The reply she’d given him was rather vague; Honoré couldn’t help but let a frown crease his forehead. He was smart enough to get the hint; the girl did not want to talk about whatever was troubling her. That suited him just fine. He too, often avoided talking about his past so her resentment was perfectly understandable. Even if he was slightly interested in hearing what she had to say; it was none of his business. He couldn’t stand priers and he wasn’t about to become one. Maybe one day she’d feel comfortable enough to share her life’s story.
The Québécois remained quiet until she brought up the topic of shooting stars once more. It took quite some time for him to assimilate and digest her inquiry. Hm, what would he wish for? Honoré tried to think of what he lacked in his life. Now that he had a home, he most certainly couldn’t wish for that anymore! The more he thought about it, and the clearer it became. The one thing he truly wished for was … to find his family. It was a silly wish, considering the fact that he didn't necessarily have a close relationship with any of his siblings. But he still missed them greatly.
“Maybe… find mine sisters and brother. That would be nice. Silly wish, eh?” he said with a smile, attempting to mask the embarrassment that accompanied his statement. The Loas didn’t want his new friend to think he was needy… or soft. “And you, Genève?”
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[html] http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j40/k ... ump/12.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> Geneva glanced sidelong at the male sitting beside her. There was something about his presence that was very restful. She felt at ease, not feeling the need to fill the short stretches of silence between them with useless words. There was something about him, a vague sense that didn't demand a great deal of effort. She found that she liked this about him instantly.
She was quiet for a few moments, processing the meaning of his words as he shared his fondest wish with her. Despite his instant rebuke, she could hear the note of longing. But there wasn't a yawning chasm of emptiness accompanying those words. Instead she sensed a vague wistful note. He seemed embarrassed. "I think that's a fine wish," she said, warmth in her voice, though she didn't move her eyes from the stars.
There was quiet laughter in her voice when she spoke again. "I wish I could fly," she said, sounding sheepish when she confessed the frivolous wish. "You know, and see the world in a different way."
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Honoré found it odd how he didn’t feel the need to act like a wiseguy around his new acquaintance. It was a good thing, of course. But weird nonetheless. The Québécois had a habit of being an ass to most people as a way to avoid getting hurt or ridiculed. Not many people were deserving of his trust. His siblings had left him without saying goodbye a few years prior. If his own flesh and blood was capable of doing such a thing, then surely strangers weren’t meant to be trusted. A flawed logic, maybe. But it had spared him much heartache throughout his life.
That kind of attitude was unneeded with this female though, he could just feel it. One comforting sentence out of her was all it took for his initial embarrassment to dissipate. Now that she mentioned it, it didn’t sound so bad after all. Another smile crept onto his lips when the girl finally shared her wish. He didn’t find it odd at all. If anything, he couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t thought of it first. Flying was an awesome wish. Her statement also confirmed his assumption from a little earlier; she was a dreamer.
The Loas nodded slowly, thoughtfully. He understood what she meant perfectly. Maybe that was the reason why he’d always admired birds so much; they could see the world in a different way. “I like that. But… don’t need to be a birdie to see world differently,” he said, bringing a hand up to touch one of his temples. “Good imagination makes you see things different, yah? I have good imagination. Helps me write a lot.”
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Geneva smiled as Honore responded, relieved that he didn't find her wish strange or outlandish either. She wondered what it would be like to soar through the air and shed the cumbersome force of gravity. What would it be like to fly above it all? Perhaps granting this wish would make her more of a coward. She could imagine just taking off, disappearing behind clouds and beyond the horizon when her fears caught up with her. Perhaps it wasn't any way to live, but she craved escape in place of confrontation. She was a quiet soul.
But his response brought another thought into the cluster of thoughts in her mind. It wasn't necessary to take such drastic measures to change her point of view. She tried to imagine how Honore must see her - would he think she was foolish? She didn't believe so, judging by his reactions to her words. Instead, it seemed she had found a kindred soul. Someone who was perhaps a bit introverted, someone who felt the pull of the gravity at the end of the rainbow.
Her eyes flicked back to the male. Her curiosity shifted restlessly inside her mind, rattling against her head as a myriad of questions bubbled up. She grinned, biting her tongue. She didn't want to frighten the male away with an incessant stream of questions. Instead she picked the most pertinent one, "What do you write?" She personally kept a journal, and was quite curious.
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He’d found something much more fascinating than the constellations above. His attention wasn’t focused on the night sky anymore; the girl sitting beside him had just piqued his curiosity by asking a very simple question. What intrigued him the most wasn’t the question itself, but her genuine interest in his answer. If anything, it made him a little self-conscious. Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember that last time someone had asked him about his hobby. “Euh,” he mumbled, feeling a little intimidated by the younger female. She was wise beyond her years!
“Is… kind of like poetry, but not. You know?” No, of course she didn’t know. He wasn’t making any sense! Honoré remained silent for a few seconds, trying to find the right words. It was French poetry, based on his own personal experiences. Yes, that was it. “Poems about my… ma vie. My life.” he rectified, hoping the emerald-eyed woman would catch on now that his explanation was a little more specific. Now it was his turn to question her. “You write too, maybe?” This conversation just kept getting better.
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Geneva swallowed a smile, keeping her features neutral as Honore seemed to struggle to find the right words. It wasn't that she enjoyed seeing him stumble over his words. It was just that he was so sincere - even stumbling through his words - that she found that charming. She was quite taken with this wolf. She felt as though she might have uncovered a kindred soul, someone with whom she could instantly relate. Without quite realizing it, she had let her guard almost completely down.
Geneva's thoughts usually raced when she was around someone else, searching for the right thing to say. But here, with Honore, the right thing just seemed to come as naturally as breathing. She felt as though she could have known him, at one time. But she knew that she would remember such a wolf, that he would have made an impact on her memory. It was very pleasant to feel as though she was instantly in a safe zone around someone else.
Geneva nodded slowly. "No, I understand," she said, smiling brightly at the man in reassurance. She really did understand. She too, tried to put her life into words. Although there wasn't a musical quality to them, nothing very whimsical. Geneva wrote her thoughts as they came, to keep a running record, so she could look back. "I, uh," she flushed a bit. Although it was easy to talk with this man, she still found it difficult to share things about herself. "I write too...nothing special. I just keep a journal."
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This was the first time he’d ever told anyone about his poetry. The only ones who knew were his siblings. Had it been possible, he would’ve kept it a secret from them. But Aurèle had unexpectedly walked in on him once. And upon realizing what he’d been up to, she'd told their whole family about Honoré’s strange hobby. While nobody seemed to care what he did on his spare time, the alabaster male had grown ashamed of it. Geneva was the first stranger he’d ever confided in, and it had been unintentional at first. But now that she showed genuine interest in what he did, he felt a little more at ease.
It was her turn to share a part of who she was. She kept a journal, which was similar to what he did (minus the poetry). What intrigued him the most was the way she said it. It was almost as if she too, was ashamed to admit it. Or perhaps he was wrong. Maybe she was just shy. Questions threatened to flow out of his maw. Honoré had to bite his tongue to keep himself from asking more. His pack mate was a walking enigma, no doubt about it. Instead of questioning the girl’s reaction, he opted for a more subtle alternative. “How long have you had this journal? You write everything, or important stuff only maybe?”
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It was strange, to share so much about herself. To say something off hand, that she kept a journal, seemed like such an easy thing. But with strangers, it was hard to reveal parts of herself. It was like shedding a layer of skin, bit by bit. However, she found with Honore that it wasn't a painful process to uncover those pieces and let her guard down. He was a kindred spirit, someone she could relate to. She appreciated his candor, his honesty. She sensed that although this meeting of the minds was refreshing, pleasant, and almost easy that perhaps sharing was new to him too.
She heard it in his tone. There was the slightest hesitance, a slip of the breath that would have escaped the untrained ear. But Geneva was an observer, a listener. She had learned to discern action and thought from body language and linguistics. Geneva smiled at Honore, deciding that he was certainly someone that she wanted to befriend and get to know better. She wouldn't push, but accept anything he had to offer instead. And she herself would offer in return, she decided. There was no reason to be tight lipped. This man wasn't a threat, someone who would demean her or judge her without reason.
"I've kept a journal since I learned to write and read," she said. "I didn't play much as a child. I was frail, sickly. My father taught me to write instead." She hadn't had a bad childhood. In fact, she wouldn't trade those times for anything in the world. She thought of all the things she had learned and treasured every moment she had spent with her father. "I tend to write about things that impact my life, or confuse me," she said, feeling slightly embarrassed. "It helps me to think things through, you know?"
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Honoré allowed his hazel eyes to linger over the ivory gal’s body, searching for possible scars and injuries. She was smaller than most females he’d seen, but there was nothing unhealthy about her. At least, nothing that immediately caught his eye. She was far from sickly now. Whatever illness had plagued her during childhood was long gone, he assumed. “You’re not sick now, yah?”” he asked curiously, shivers travelling up his spine. Oh, he sure hoped not! Honoré wasn’t heartless. Geneva had rapidly grown on him, and he most certainly didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.
She looked like one of his sisters, Aurèle. He hadn’t realized it until now though. Maybe that’s why he felt it was his duty to protect her. The Québécois twisted his face into an awkward smirk, trying to forget about his littermate for the time being. “What confuses you?” Her statement had successfully caught his attention. Honoré tried to think of confusing things, but it was hard to come up with something just like that.
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Geneva shook her head quickly in answer, wrinkling her nose. It seemed whenever she tripped down memory lane, those she was talking to would jump to conclusions about her health. She thought them kind for that. She had come across so many amazing creatures who were concerned with a virtual stranger. It warmed her heart to know that Honore was such a creature, though she already felt the beginnings of a connection to the ivory hued male. He seemed soulful, kind and vibrant. She found herself instantly attracted to those qualities, already felt herself gravitating toward a similar soul. She didn't even feel any discomfort at answering his questions anymore, simply deciding to enjoy her time with him
"Thankfully, my health is much better than it used to be," she said. Some days she felt as though she could climb mountains, with her heart swelling inside her ten times its size. In recent months she had felt uplifted, despite undercurrents of confusion that plagued many of her thoughts in quiet moments. She had grown used to moving outside of the shadows, not trying to blend into the background. She felt as though she had taken control of her own life, shed a skin that had held her back from knowing her true self. She was still shy, soft-spoken, and non-confrontational, but she no longer shrank away from her own shadow.
Geneva thought for a moment on the answer to Honore's last question, and found herself smiling ruefully. "My own feelings confuse me," she confided in the ivory male. "I find that I cannot see the reason behind emotion, however rational or irrational. The girl laughed a bit, shaking her head slowly. "It is foolish, but I find that I am the most cautious of my own heart."
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It was a relief to hear such positive news. Her answer partly satisfied him, although he couldn’t help but wonder what kind of disease or sickness she’d had as a child. Was it contagious? Because she sure didn’t seem contagious. Oh wait, she wasn’t sick anymore. Honoré narrowed his hazel-colored eyes, clearly puzzled by the information handed to him. If Geneva said she was much better, then he wouldn’t worry too much about it. He made note to keep an eye out for her though, because she was pretty and nice. And she deserved to be cared for. He was growing soft, maybe. He normally wouldn’t have cared about a stranger’s problems, but this girl technically wasn’t a stranger. She was a pack mate, a part of his new… family. He had no intention of replacing Aurèle and Tayui, but maybe he could think of Geneva as a sister too. It certainly would fill the void in his heart.
Honoré pursed his lips together, even more puzzled than he had been a few seconds earlier. He could understand how feelings could be confusing, but how could she not see reason behind emotion? It was simple, really. Emotions gave his life meaning. Wasn’t it the same for her? He tilted his head to the side, peering into her eyes with an obvious fascination. She seemed capable of feeling things. Her next comment finally got a few words out of him, even though he wasn’t really sure if what he said made any sense. “It is okay to be cautious with heart! But you have to let some people in, yah? Is like… love. You know? You’ll find love and you won’t be able to escape it.” he said with a grin. He’d never been in love before, but that didn’t stop him from believing in it. Even at his age, everything was possible.
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Geneva tilted her head to the side, considering Honore's words carefully. He seemed to be regarding her closely, probably trying to piece together her own experiences in relation to his own. He seemed to be deep in thought for a few moments during their conversation, and then he finally spoke again. Then it was Geneva's turn to be quiet, contemplative. Her green gaze drifted from the male to the stars once more, turning the words over in her head, trying to make a connection to what was within her heart.. She returned her thoughtful gaze to her pack mate once more. "I've loved before," she said, somewhat sadly, though there was definitely joy within her tone. How could she not remember the happiness she had known? No matter how fleeting it had seemed, no matter how the days seemed to stretch out, barren and empty of anything but his ghost, she could recall the warmth so certainly, so truly that sometimes she believed it was still real. "I've always seen love as a choice, an unconditional decision to put someone else first, no matter the consequence." She shook her head slightly, smiling ruefully. "Then, of course, there are the feelings, which I do not trust. Because I can't control them." She shrugged her shoulders. She sounded foolish, perhaps vulnerable or scared of her own heart, but it was the plain truth. She was afraid.
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His family meant everything to him (no matter how screwed up they all were). But true love was still unknown to him, even at the age of five. He envied her in a way. The Québécois often found himself wondering if he’d die a lonely man. The thought was morbid, but it was probability. “Genève? What does love feel like?” he questioned immediately, wondering if his pack mate would be able to explain how it felt. Although he’d read books on the subject, Geneva’s input would be much better. Just because talking to her made it real.
Her explanation made sense. The alabaster male could understand how love could be a choice, but he’d never considered it as such. Now that she’d mentioned it though, he found himself questioning his own beliefs on the subject. Honoré had always assumed “feelings” and “love” were one of the same. He wasn’t so sure anymore. “But feelings are not meant to be controlled,” he murmured, absent-mindedly carving shapes on the wooden table with one of his claws. His voice was distant as he assimilated the information provided by his packmate. Love was a complicated thing, obviously. Just thinking about it made his head spin.
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Geneva could close her eyes and recapture the ghosts of those moments. And for the space of a few breaths, she was transported to a different time. She became a different creature. Her heart had been different, simpler in an undefined way. She had been able to feel and synthesize life as it came. She woke every day with her eyes shining with the knowledge that she was worthy of love and that she could love in return, so utterly and so completely. And then she was back, in the moment, under a canopy of stars with a virtual stranger. She had come so far in such a short time. Sometimes she didn't feel like she knew who she was anymore. Sometimes she felt as though, without love, she couldn't live the way she used to. She couldn't connect to things the way she used to.
"Love...it feels like..." She bit her lip to keep from musing aloud. She tried to collect her thoughts, a swirling vortex of images and words. "To feel love, to know you are loved, is a feeling of security. To love, though, is to live each day in a state of grace. To give, and grown instead of dwindle from the act." She smiled softly and shrugged, an apologetic smile on her lips. She knew that her thoughts had been jumbled, although she had tried to express them with clarity. It just wasn't something she could put into words. She could know and embrace it with her entire being, but couldn't explain it at all.
A wry look passed her features as she considered what Honore said about feelings. "I need to be in control, she said. She had lost so much in the last months of her mate's life. She had lost her father, her mate, and her children. Her life had spun wildly out of control. Not she wanted to be in control of everything. She felt it was the only way for her to survive.
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