1. Character Name: Hendrix Saer
2. Character Birthdate (including year): November 23, 2004
3. Whether s/he is a regular wolf or a Luperci: Luperci
4. Gender: Male
5. Your e-mail: pepperpwnzsalt(AT)aol(DOT)com
6. A secondary form of contact (AIM, MSN, Y!M): AIM: pepperpwnzsalt
7. How did you learn/hear about 'Souls?: Geneva Stockholm/G.K.
A rain-battered figure rose out of the distance during the stormy noontime. He stood upright on two feet, like the extinct race of man. In the darkness provided by the low hanging clouds, it was hard to distinguish his features. However, in the dark it was easy to see that he was far from slight of form. He had robust shoulders and a wide chest, and he stood tall in this form, at nearly seven and a half feet tall. A long braid of hair whipped behind him on the wind. When the wind died down, the plaited hair came to rest between his shoulder blades. The braid was thick, hinting at thickness and a somewhat unruly texture if his hair was to hang lose.
Despite the chill of the rain on his bare shoulders, the male did not feel cold. The storm was not a warm one, but the temperature of these lands remained moderate. He had discovered that lands close to the ocean or sea tended to have moderate weather and temperatures. He appreciated this fact, because today it was his intention to find somewhere to settle. Although the rain definitely drenched the land, it was easy for the man to pick up the scents of several other wolves who lived in close proximity to one another.
He came to settle at a place that he assumed was a border, judging by the thick smell that emanated from all around him. As clouds passed over the moon, his eyes flashed, a bright blue from within his shadowed face. He thought that perhaps he had caught the ghost of a scent that seemed familiar. The thought entered his mind, and her image, transparent and opaque, played in front of him for a moment before it was swept away by the howling of the wind. And so he waited, to see what he might find.
[html] http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... ntable.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> Hello, bitch. 
Geneva could do without the rain. She still recalled the stormy summer weather all too vividly. It was not something that she had enjoyed very much. With her smaller stature and thin frame, she got cold very easily and had trouble warming up. Still, despite her deep dislike of this kind of weather, the sub-leader attended to her duties. She had started her morning as she usually did, patrolling the borders of Phoenix Valley. It was her first priority more than ever to make certain that this pack was safe.
Only a few days ago, her dear friend had delivered a little of four pups. She still recalled the whispers of their new breaths echoing in the peaceful stillness of Naniko's cabin. Their bodies were so small, fragile. It was a mystery to Geneva how they all came into the world so small and somehow were able to survive all the challenges of nature, of time. It took a village to raise a child, and Geneva would do her part, whatever it took, to make sure that those children grew into adulthood with their health and happiness intact.
She had made it to the halfway point by noon. The storm clouds were low in the sky today, heavy with rain. It showed no sign of letting up or stopping. Geneva decided that she would only go a little farther before she turned back to attend to matters at the ranch. She was dripping wet, and had her hands were tucked into the crooks of her elbows, arms crossed over her chest as she tried to derive some warmth for herself.
The Savant was glad that she had decided to go just a little farther, because there was someone waiting at the borders. She approached with confidence, despite the stranger's larger size. "Stranger, what do you se--" As she moved closer, the words died in her throat. Her hands dropped limp at her sides as she crept closer, her voice small, a choked whisper of shock. "Hendrix?" She didn't dare believe it.
[/html]
It was like a memory playing on an endless loop, projected into the gloom in front of him. His blue eyes were wide and his mouth was set in a tight line, a grimace as he wondered if his tired eyes were playing tricks on him. He could have sworn that he had caught her scent here, but he had dismissed it. He had thought that it had just been wishful thinking on his part. Although he did not feel lonely, he had wanted to see a familiar face. It would make sense that she had made it this far, but Hendrix had been certain that she would not settle down.
"It's me," he said. His voice was deep, like the echoes in the bottom of a dark well. He moved closer and his dark sable fur melted out of the gloom, much more apparent now with her brighter outline nearby. "It's me, Gennie." He stepped closer to her, perhaps two or three feet stretched between the pair of them now. He held out his arms, his hands open and face up to show that he met no harm. And he got a closer look at the female now.
She was just as he remembered her, although she seemed a little thinner, if that was possible. He could have mistaken her for someone else if it wasn't for the striking eye color. She was easily recognizable with that feature. Plus her scent was so close now. It was changed, similar to the scent of this land itself. But underneath that was that same cool scent he remembered.
[html] http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... ntable.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> Replying now, ya dumb ho.
The sound of his voice struck a chord within the woman, and something broke free. The Savant who was usually so reserved and quiet felt her composure shatter. Without thought or hesitation, she launched herself at the large sable man. His arms were open to show that he was unarmed, but she took that as an unspoken invitation. Her thin arms wrapped around him without hesitation. Her eyes were still slick with unshed tears and they were wide when she craned her head back to look at him. Just touching him reaffirmed the fact that he was real to her.
"How did you find me?" She was awe-struck at his presence. "I never thought I would see you again." Her expression was hard to read. So many emotions flowed over her face in such a short span of time. She was surprised, even shocked, and there was happiness and regret present and at war in her features. Hendrix was alive and well and here! It was almost more than she could dare to hope or believe. But the evidence was here.
It had indeed been a long time since she had seen the man. Regaining some of her composure, she stepped away from him a few feet. She wrapped her arms around her middle as she continued to keep her eyes trained on him, as if she was waiting for the darkness to come and swallow him up again. "Tell me everything."
[/html]
Hendrix wasn't sure what to say now. One minute she was looking at him as though she had seen a ghost, and the next minute she had launched herself at him. His arms closed around her reflexively, but he held on to her loosely. His big hands rested almost awkwardly on her shoulders. It was indeed Geneva Stockholm, the woman he remembered but had not seen for nearly a year and a half at this point. She had aged and grown, but there was no mistaking her identity. Before their absence from each other's lives, Hendrix had known her as long as any other member of her family.
Just as soon as she had come toward him, she had backed up to stare. Geneva had always been small, and he had always been larger than her. Despite all the time that had passed, he was reminded of old times. She was still as small and he remembered, and at the moment now she looked fragile to him. He did not want to disappoint her, but he had to tell her the truth. "I was looking for you, but I spent several weeks searching. I could not find you, or my brothers. I came across Ariana," he confided, smiling. "You are an aunt now, Gennie." He hoped that this happy news would take the deer-in-the-head-lights look off her face.
Following his train of thought, he looked at Geneva once more with a new light in his eyes. The shock faded from his face and was replaced with a broad smile. He looked around behind her shoulders, as if expecting to see others coming up behind her. "Speaking of aunts...I'm an uncle now, aren't I? Where are my nieces and nephews?" He wanted so badly to see them. "Where is Jordan? Why are you out here alone?"
[html] http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j19/S ... ranges.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat; width:300px; border:1px #000000 solid; font-size: 10px; line-height: 12px;"> I know I suck, but physics midterms are OVER OVER OVER.  Did you pass, 'natch?
His words came like a rush of water. And suddenly Geneva felt as though her mind was a thimble, too small to contain everything he said all at once. His words flowed about her, through her, and she was unable to contain them all, let alone put her thoughts in order. She just stood there, blinking at him. Her mouth was closed, held in place by the tenseness of her jaw. She didn't trust herself to speak. She had grown past this point of her life, but it would always be part of her. That little pocket of pain that Hendrix's questions resurrected was not usually raw and ugly like this, but he talked about Jordan was though he was breathing in the present. Oh, to go back to those days...
Geneva was glad, a small bubble of joy in the dark pit of her stomach, a little ray of sun in this otherwise strange and terrifying night. She had not thought she would see Hendrix again, yet he was whole and alive in front of her. She swallowed hard, feeling as if she was forcing down bits of barbed wire. He expected answers, his voice was a rush of excited sound. She was finally able to make sense of it all, and although she did not want to speak, she forced the words through her grimacing mouth.
"I lead here," she said, her voice without expression. "I am capable of going out by myself. I ensure my own safety and the safety of my pack." It was a robotic, automatic response. It was the easiest of Hendrix's questions to deal with. She looked at him helplessly, the answers to those other questions poised deadly at the edge of her tongue. She did not want to see the knowledge bloom on his face, like a bruise after a blow. She didn't want him to know, but she could not lie to him. "Jordan...and Papa...died last year." She inhaled shakily, her composure almost ready to give. She tried to distance herself, tried to come off as cool, and she failed. "Our children did not survive after that...except for one, a girl...but only for a day."
That last part crushed her, and she did not think it would effect Hendrix like the news of his brother's death. Reliving that part of her life, the single day of her daughter's life, was a blow to her heart. She felt like she was locked in her own personal circle of hell. Because there wasn't just pain, there was an unabashed joy that part of her, part of Jordan, have lived to know her.
The woman strode forward again, the pain settling in the familiar grooves of her heart. She carried it with her, as she always did. The shock of reliving those days directly always hurt, but as she set it aside, she was able to regain emotional equilibrium. Despite the pain of remembering the end of Jordan's life, of Shea and her father's lives, her happy memories of them outweighed that pain. Despite the fact that they were gone, the fact that they had lived at all was enough to ignite the strength in her to live again. "Please stay here, Hendrix. At least for a while." She laid a hand on the man's arm, watching his face.
[/html]
|
