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Jac
He didn’t mean to trespass, well of course he did. He just didn’t know he was. The male had a course that was set, before he even knew where it would take him. Many time he let himself wander, just move without a direct course engraved in his brain, but this day was different. Having spent time in the city once again, Heath returned to the shore with nothing in mind, at first. She had never left his thoughts, not even when the bottle he stole was empty and the sleep that same deep and dreamless. The moment the scent of the ocean drew him in like a familiar friend, Heath understood where he was headed. The memory of the landscape was vivid in his mind and the keen male knew the shortest way to get to his destination, but for some reason he took the longer route. He walked the beach, the day a clear and bright one and thought of what he would say. Never had he been so nervous to meet someone for a second time, but she made him different and Heath liked what he became.
The land smelled different, but he hadn’t noticed the distinct mark of a claimed space until he was deep within it. Woken from his endless thoughts Heath looked around with new eyes. The ocean crashed along at his left, its proper place, and he could imagine the cabin through the forest just paces ahead. But there was a different air around this place, and Heath could only described it as owned. He had been on his own for some time, and visited may pack lands. Each time he had felt as if he was walking on earth that no longer belonged to nature. It confused him, how such a thing could happen in such a short time and what it meant for the woman that he sought. It made him oddly worried, but he pushed the feeling away and kept his gait one of ease as he strolled down the beach. He would have the answers soon, he was almost there.
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OoC: =D
Flashing fangs tore into the venison haunch, the roasted meat being devoured with a gusto. Jacquez wiped his slavering jaws on his arm, tossing the bare femur over his shoulder for the gulls to fight over. Fresh food was yet another luxury of this promised land - it was overflowing with live prey, wide open space, undiscovered treasures, all of the things that he and his kind had dreamed of down south, but never once imagined they would find so easily. His shipwrecked dogs may have scattered on the beach they were washed upon, but he couldn't really blame them anymore. They must have thought they had died and gone to heaven, the deluded fools.
The satisfied king strolled down the beach, plumed tail waving a marching tempo behind him. The steady rolling of the waves was a comforting sound to the sailor, coupled with the fresh mist in the air and the taste of salt. Seaspray had all but flavored his colourful fur, given the amount of time he spent in it. This place was a paradise, and he was proud to call it his own. His new packmates, mostly wolves to his surprise, were scattered across the land, inviting friends to visit and toiling to make their new dwellings. His faithful Ruri still spent most of her time in the cabin, but rather than in grieving, she would offer her delightful company to those mates taking a rest. Everyone was settling into the dynamic of a close-knit family, the way Jacquez liked it. And then his dark eyes caught the sight of a stranger, moving about on his coastline.
The collie-dog was not an aggressive man by nature, not really - he enjoyed the adrenaline rush of a fight, but would always listen to the story beforehand, to determine if it was necessary. He was sober this morning, having need to return to the dive bar in Halifax to replenish his stock of alcohol. But the curious skulkings of this lean stranger caught his attention, as he was making a beeline towards the cabin. The lithe movements and dun-grey fur patterns reminded him of Redrum and the candy-lover from the city, both girls with strong coyote blood. This man must have long-ear heritage too. "Aaahooooooyy!" he bellowed abruptly, booming voice echoing against the tall cliffs that soared above the sunny sand. The seagulls behind him abandoned the deer bones and scattered into wheeling flight, white kites against the blue sky. He ignored them to narrow his eyes, head tilted as he studied the unknown man. Was this their first visitor looking to join? .
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His dark coated hand laced his fingers through the short static mane that lined his head and neck. Beyond the stoic face, and the relaxed pasture the youth was nervous and uneasy. The call of the ocean begged him to be calm, calling for him to join the rhythmic rolling of its waves instead of feeling the thunderous unsteady beat of his heart. Both could be felt in the depths of his chest and heard in his ears. He didn’t like the sensation, it was far too close to fear, but it was the sort of fright he could not fight. It could only be shaken from his body and buried deep beneath the far more delightful anticipation. Bury it deep, the yearling spoke to himself.
Back strait the boy collected himself, readying for the inevitable disappointment of the empty cabin that he was about to find. He was sure that she would be gone, and a mixture of relief and despair suddenly came to him. Burying it deep beside all the rest of the emotions he refused to show or even feel, Heath felt his pace slow. Dark nose against the wind, there was something that spoke of the land and the new ownership that it was so obviously under. Gold eye widened as he heard a voice, but the surprised looked easily erased before turning to face the unknown man. He was the scent of meat, sharp liquor and of women, all decreasing in intensity as he noticed each. The lone hybrid stood before him, giving a sharp and gruff ”Hey”.
It took a brief moment to realize who this was, and the importance of his presence. He was standing on this beach, claiming this land (or Heath so assumed). The tawny, black accented male could not help but let the smile tease the corners of his mouth. He was a dog, that was obvious, whose domesticated features were like a punch strait to the face. Not even mentioning the lost limb, he was an interesting looking beast. Too busy taking in every detail of the best friend to a woman he remembered with an oddly innocent fondness, Heath spoke no more then the greeting.
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OoC: a little short, sorry! ;__;
The lean, skinny loner posed no threat - there was nothing aggressive in his light stance, and his intelligent gold eyes betrayed no intentions other than curiosity. Rumors had spread, then, had they not? He and Firefly had visited a leader of Dahlia de Mai, and their packmates had been visited by women from AniWaya and Crimson Dreams respectively; finally, the stories had slipped from the lips of pack wolves to the ears of those below, the wanderers. Here was a lanky youth, no older than his own Ruri, sniffing at the borders of a true royal court. Immersed thusly in his own ego, the king swaggered across the sand, tucking his one arm into the crook of his back. The yearling had returned his greeting, but had not spoken again. That was soon to be remedied.
"You, monsieur, are trespassing in the royal court of the Cour des Miracles. State your purpose! Did the bawdy tales of gossip reach you, pulling you irresistibly to see for yourself?" The wicked grin curled back his black lips, baring his fangs in a smirk. He was now close enough to loom over the stranger, finding that he was taller than the coyote-hybrid. Dark glittering eyes studied the finer details of the young man's appearance - the pitch-black "glove" of fur mirroring his own, white "sleeve". It was enough of a similarity to colour his mood favorable, to show the kid around if he really wanted to see. His moods changed as quickly and unexpectedly as the ocean he loved, from calm and playful to stormy and dangerous. Today, so far, was a good day... . .
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He had a coat of burnt terracotta, mixed with a brighter orange. Maybe it was a dull fire, or the hue of warm burning firewood. Heath didn’t know what color to call the male, but it was an interesting one. One that would catch the eye of anyone interested enough to look. Heath sized him up. In the recesses of his mind this male was competition. In the part of him that thought of her in a way that was diligent patient and loyal, Jacquez meant opposition. But enough of him could be indifferent, making it possible for him to set such issues aside and gain knowledge from the man.
The words he spoke dripped with confidence, rightly so from a leader. Heath could tell that much, there was no image of the man bowing to or taking direction from any one. The thin hybrid saw the curved grin, and reluctantly had to look upwards to keep golden eyes of the strangers face. Keeping his mouth shut the male stared, wondering how steadfast this man truly was. Looking up towards the male Heath let their eyes compete, but in the end he had to look away. His neck was beginning to grow painful.
Heath casually looked to the ocean, as if there was nothing else better to gaze upon. Speaking without the excitement that the other male was hoping he would have, “I didn’t know there was such a place. Cour des Miracles... The French speaking boy said with a small shrug, resorting back to this normal self he found little amusement in such romantic names. I’m Heath. The yearling gave his own, to avoid the question that he had been given. He wasn’t sure how to explain his presence, not yet at least. He was certain that nothing had been said about his visit. It had been on neutral lands then, so nothing important to report.
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OoC: Sorry for the wait, lovely!
Jac's booming words had resounded beautifully along the beach, and yet, he was not met with an immediate response. The lean hybrid had to crane his neck upwards just to meet his gaze, and after a moment of silence, averted his eyes. The collie-dog waited impatiently for him to speak, his cream-furred tail waving in a tight circle behind him. After what felt like an eternity, the gold-eyed stranger answered him.
His excitement was not returned, as the yearling stared dully out at the shifting waters, nary a smile or flicker of enthusiasm present. Jac's smile wilted, his dark eyes narrowing petulantly. What was the problem with this boy? He had stumbled into a fairytale, and all he could muster was, "I didn’t know there was such a place"? How drab! How boring! The capricious king frowned grumpily as he was offered a short name, as plain as the youth that owned it.
"Heath, eh? I am Jacquez Trouillefou, the founder of this kingdom. Now that you know of such a place, are you not intrigued? Have you no desire to explore, no curiosity?" He had not missed the smooth pronunciation from the coyote-wolf's lips; Heath must be familiar with French, if not a francophone himself. But it was a much more pressing issue to determine whether or not he was going to be an interesting diversion, or if he insisted on toning down what at first appeared to be a worthwhile personality. His footpaws shifted weight on the warm sand, fidgeting against his inability to remain still. Had he misjudged? . .
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SOOOO sorry for making *you* wait. <3333333
Gold eyes looked on, returning and taking in the sight of him once again. For some reason it was hard for the male to look away, as a small part of him wanted to know so desperately what made his appealing to the little female that resided in his thoughts. If the male had know how untimely boring the king though of him Heath would have made an attempt to impress him, in some flashy way he could show his personality was not as yawn worthy as he believed. But Heath was hoping to show the more stoic, harder side of him. As a man’s man he wanted to give the presence of a solid, unyielding presence. But she was starting to wonder if he should not just play to the more vibrant side of him, make friends instead of enemies.
Nodding Heath gave a brief answer to the question of his name., Yup.. His listened then, the words flowing from the male’s mouth as if a steam over smooth rocks. Moving with ease and a small amount of bubbling with either excitement or eagerness. He was the leader here, a thing Heath had already figured. His name was extravagant, going perfectly with the rest of the package he presented. Heath thought about his question, quickly before answering with a new tone, Yes, very interested. He said with more enthusiasm then before. Wanting to stay away from the question of his original reason for being in his lands, Heath created his own subject.
How did you end up here? Heath had heard Ruri's depiction, but he was curious to know Jacquez's side of the story.
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ooc: <3 You win a Jac story as a reward for waiting!
Ahh, that's what he was looking for. Any excuse to tell a tall tale! The collie-hybrid's lean muzzle lit up with a full grin, teeth flashing white in the sun's flare. "How did I end up here, you ask? Well," he began, swelling his chest with a deep breath, clapping his hand on the youth's skinny shoulder. "I lived far south of here, where swamplands overtook cities, and dogs far outnumbered coyotes and wolves combined. We scrounged for food and squabbled over land, and we were all dirt-poor and half-starved. Not a fit environment for a king, n'est-ce pas?" He shook his head in emphasis of his own words, leaning closer to invade Heath's space. "We heard tales, from rogue prick-ears like yourself; up north, there are vast expanses! Unclaimed wilderness! Treasure abounds!" Somehow it was obvious to see which promise had captured the deluded fool's attention fastest. The smile was back, as he was pleased with himself for mustering such bravado in his words. No one could resist such a rousing tale. Perhaps he would get a cheer, or applause!
"So, I gathered up my mongrel crew - a score or so of loyal tramps - and we stole a ship, a leaky old tub that hadn't seen open waters in years. And we sailed! And the very gods themselves tried to strike us down, hurling lightning bolts and tempests the likes of which you've never seen. That's how I lost my arm, you know. Lightning lanced it clean off, cauterized the wound in the same blow. I suspect my left hand is at the bottom of the ocean somewhere, food for the fishes..." His dark eyes gleamed as he peered closely into Heath's golden gaze. Was he a believer? The "arm" story was different with every telling, and if his packmates and acquaintances ever compared notes, it would soon become quite clear that even he had no idea what had happened to his missing appendage.
"That's where the story draws to a close, vagabond Heath. Nursing my grievous wound, I directed my salty dogs towards the shore for us to recuperate - and the fates would not even let us land safely then! Our ship was dashed on the rocks, and my crew was lost. I have only managed to find one of my loyal followers, in all of this time. She helped me form a pack, so that I may gather a new crew. They are my royal court." He squeezed the coy-wolf's shoulder one last time, for solidarity, and finally released it, stepping back to study his response. Such an epic anecdote, mostly somewhat true, deserved a standing ovation. In his humble opinion.
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i love it.
Long, black colored arm flexed, as if tiring with the stationary position its master kept it. Heath made a fist, though not in anger or agitation but only to feel the tight strong muscles. Maybe it was used to feeling flesh against its dark knuckles at this point of the conversation. Heath rarely got away with trespassing, but he was beginning to find that this place, and its King were very different. Heath had no idea he was about to hear how very “different” everything really was. He was shocked as the other male touched his shoulder, clasping his large paw around its firm shape. Then the rusty dog-man was close, enough that they shared the air they breathed.
And then it started.
A far off place, south and humid and unbearable. Strays, savaging in cities without the security of packs. Pirates, ships, storm and then tragedy. The details whirled through the coyote hybrid’s mind, and old leaky tub, tempests and then! The shocking amputation of the dog’s arm. Everything bubbled in the young males mind, and Heath knew for certain how Jacquez Trouillefou because so eccentric. Heath frowned, but then at the last few words that the king spoke a smile crossed his gray molted face. How such a thing could be true? Heath found that he didn’t much care, for the facts were quite clear. He was here, arm lost by some way or another, finding a home with a few faithfuls. One that Heath had already met...
Quite a story. The male spoke, though not in skepticism but in honesty. Quite a story. And lucky to find your “follower”. Heath smiled at the image he let form in his mind. Jacquez… The male spoke, the smile still crossed over his face. Heath felt energized by the male’s story, not holding the chill he once felt towards the leader. If I had know I would be around royalty, I would’ve brought a gift. The city is stock piled with goods, and liquor. Gold eyes looked to see if he would be moved by the idea.
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