Don't tell me what tomorrow brings

[Miriette morte dre Soul]

Miriette had been hauling the spare pieces of lumber to the site of her new home for a few days now, the floor to her treehouse was complete and though she had no walls or a ceiling yet it gave her somewhere she could sleep for the moment though she thought that her hammock was still more comfortable. She was beginning to plot to put the hammock on hangers inside the home when it was finished, for now she still had a lot of building to do. She grinned, for once forgetting about her pains and worries as she huffed and puffed her way down the trail she'd made from the villas to her new home.

Finally at the building site she dropped the wood and sat there panting. Knowing that she could find something to make it easier to collect the wood in but she didn't want to worry with it just yet. She could do that tomorrow. For now she had enough scraps to make the frame for the walls and ceiling. She'd seem some lovely pieces of tin and metal in the city that she thought would make a perfect ceiling and walls. She hadn't come to the point of realizing that it would be mighty cold in the treehouse come winter but she'd figure that all our when it came down to it then, for now she had her own current worries to fill her mind.

[Jefferson Soul]

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A little bird had told him that Miriette had made her home in a tree, of all places, rather than in one of the pack's many cabins that lay empty throughout the pack's territory. Their rules were strict; members below a certain rank weren't allowed to own because their levels of responsibility had yet to be determined. However, perhaps it was because his own offspring was choosing to make ends meet in a tree that he was so deeply disturbed and frustrated by it. On that note, Jefferson and Miriette hardly shared a bond at all. The one-eyed idiot had upset and emotionally wounded her on several occasions before and after she revealed their biological connection, but even a stone-faced cyclops could feel guilt and regret. He'd set out to speak with her about one of the empty cabins nearby, but as he walked two-legged in following her scent, Jefferson's thoughts dwindled on their relationship or lack thereof, and the Patriarch found that by the time he reached her, his mind had become set on other things.

She was rather busy, lugging wood to and fro and hardly noticing him when he approached; perhaps when he appeared she ignored him, the brute would have expected that. Miriette was his daughter, but she wanted nothing to do with him. Why then did she choose to stay in his pack? Why was she purposefully keeping herself at an arm's distance, though still within his grasp? "Miriette," he said quietly, noticing the good mood she seemed to be in. Surely he would ruin that, one way or another. Miriette had inherited his moodiness. He glanced briefly at the tree she'd chosen to house herself, then turned his single green eye back to her. His shoulders sunk a bit and his expression was clouded with a sympathetic seriousness. "...We should talk." He'd never had a grown daughter who hated him before. Technically, he never really had a daughter, or at least not one of his own flesh and blood. Not a grown one who knew rebellion and distaste and hatred. Jefferson could only rely on what little parental skills he'd taken to from raising Addison... and his own common sense.

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[Miriette morte dre Soul]

Miriette hadn't expected the stranger who was her father to suddenly appear down below as she sat peering up at the leaves above. When that voice cut through her daydreaming she turned around quickly and glared down over the edge to the male below. She didn't know what in the world he expected her to say, he was the leader, it's not like she could deny him to talk, though it didn't mean she had to listen or she had anything to say really. The girl scowled down at the male and asked. "What have ta talk bouts.." she said. The bitterness in her voice apparent as she curled up in the corner of the platform, her arm around the base of the tree limb as she stared down at him with sad eyes.

She picked at the bark of the tree as she tried to keep her eyes off the man who was her father. She didn't know why he was coming now to talk to her, she'd been here months and he hadn't come calling. She almost wished that he would have left her alone to be the dirt of the pack, the lowly ranked member who was nothing. She quickly spoke once more, bitter words as she watched him, for once being at the bottom. "You lied.." she said, remembering the small girl that he claimed to be the father of.

[Jefferson Soul]

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He hadn't lied, had he? Jefferson had an honest mentality, even if all his words and thoughts were shrouded in sarcasm and dripping of suspicion and pessimism. The brute did not lie easily; he lied when it was to protect someone, but even then his lies were small and paralleled the truth. Perhaps she did what many did with him, misinterpreting carefully chosen words as lies or deceit although such things were rare. His tomfoolery in tricking the straitlaced Cwmfen was a once-in-a-blue-moon ordeal.

When had Miriette decided he'd lied? The two had barely any interaction. He guessed it had something to do with Addison; Jefferson had seen the color of his yearling daughter's eyes darken with disgust when the cyclops had scooped up Addison in his arms like the unknowing father he was. But... Miriette hated him. Why would she care if he'd lied? "I never lied," he said stolidly. "I've been confused, but I never lied."

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