Catch me a 'Wabbit, I will! ... Or not.

[Ailbhe Latis]

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Coming Tokyo?
WC: 832
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Ivory muzzle was nearly touching the ground as the AniWayan fairy slunk her way through the tall, waving golden grasses of an open meadow she had found, nearly invisible in the mix. Icy blue gems sparkled with amusement as the snowy female they belonged to continued her slow, determined movements towards the sound of running water. The chirps of a young fawn met erect harks as the white female came closer and closer to her prey. Despite the larger size of her halfling form, the downwind sun-spun lady knew how to keep hidden.


Her stout form raised slightly so that her sight could carry past the grasses. Puffing up her cheeks in discouragement, Ailbhe realized she couldn't see the fawn she'd been stalking. Its parents, a large 10 point buck, and a decently sized doe were grazing off to her left side, closer towards the stream she noted earlier. Brows furrowed and thick plume drooped in disappointment as she padded slowly off to the right, nose up and sniffing. Mentally, she prayed that the fawn had strayed away from its parents, and would be a little easier to take down without them around. Light pink tongue danced across glistening daggers and piercing, almost white eyes scanned the grasses before her for the fawn.


And there, a flash of brown and white leapt through the grasses before her. The fawn! Startled, but determined, Ailbhe jumped out of the grasses and took off after the fawn, who began crying out for his mother and father, legs flailing as the halfling struck out at it. This was an easy catch, for sure... WHAP! Suddenly blinded, the four-year old stopped suddenly, almost tripping and falling over her own four paws. Shaking her head, the culprit of her missed donation peeled off her eyes and fluttered to the ground.


Snarling, the obviously angry female slammed a retractable claw into the center of the paper, it turned out to be, and stared at it, willing it to burst into flames. At first the only noticeable difference to the fae as she glared at the paper was the fur along her neck. It lengthened out; the short, rough hair growing longer, longer, until it reached the ground in her bent over state. Almost immediately following were changes to her forelegs. In a seemingly painful manner, upper biceps lengthened, shifting her elbow downwards, moving the clawed paper away from her face. Triceps lengthened and became more pronounced as paws rearranged themselves and toes grew into dextrous fingers. Ivory haunches began to lengthen into thighs. Slowly at first, then a bit faster and faster, the angry dove began to double in size. Her her hind legs continued to lengthen, and with a sickening crackle of bones, new joints appeared at the ankles and wrists. Her ears moved slightly up her head, which had grown slightly to accommodate for the change in size her body had just underwent. Finally, her tail lengthened, and the fluffy marble fur layered thickly upon it became soft and velveteen. The paper still hung on her long claws, and finally, after these few minutes had passed, Ailbhe took the piece of parchment in her other hand.


The now Optime then stood up, long blue-streaked hair dancing around pronounced hips in the chilled breeze. Icy glare focused on the scrawled words the paper held- and though she had accidentally punctured a few of the sentences, rendering them unreadable, she could still make out a few easier phrases. Ailbhe wasn't the most talented reader, after all.


I am now a grown wolf. As such, I need a new title. A new Name. A new life.

I need something greater than that which I am now. Something stronger.

Something befitting. My close comrades have helped me see that.

And so, 'Ares' Chance shall be my new name, after the god of war and triumph!

Never again will I be looked down upon by those of my kind or any other!

Never again will I be called a child or ---------- -----------------------------

Never again will I be ------------------- ------------------- -------------------------- or anything of the sort!

Never again shall I be called 'Buttface'. I have evolved past my mother's childish tendencies....


She stopped. There was more to the paper, for sure, but the white Optime wasn't sure if she had read something right. Icy gems ran over that last sentence again. And again. And AGAIN. Wide eyes blinked a few times in confusion, and slim maw gaped open. Did this really mean someone was named.... 'Buttface'? Though she was unsure of exactly what the phrase meant- butt was an unfamiliar word to the rather refined female- she assumed that it was an insult. Gaping maw curled into a smile, then a bell-like chuckle, then a full out laughing fit. Slender arms wrapped around toned tummy as the ivory female rocked this way and that, laughing, laughing, laughing.


Oh what a wonderful thing it was to laugh so hard!

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[Ares Chance]

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again, sorry about delay D: 568 words Ares had worked himself easily up into a panic. Five! Five sheets of lined paper had slipped out of his notebook, and he didn't even know exactly where. He hadn't even opened his notebook for hours, but then back at the mansion he had been taking stuff out of his bag and noticed he couldn't find his latest efforts on "Dark Black Heart Beating With Pain." It was terrifying. He had written some of his best lines of poetry ever earlier this morning. And now they were gone! He couldn't recreate something that had been that glorious! Flipping through his notebook, looking at page numbers, he had come to the total of five pages missing. Two pages from the front - old, old stuff when he was using this as a diary, and three from the back. Two of the latter contained almost all of "Dark Black Heart Beating With Pain," but the third was less important, just a few doodles inspired by "The Flaming Fire of My Burning Heart." He had ran straight outside the mountain, back to the lakeside where he had last had his notebook out and writing. A brisk breeze tugged at the sandy colored dress-shirt he was wearing, and a recognition of how much the wind had picked up sent his stomach twisting and turning. God, the pages could have gotten.. anywhere by now! There was one page in his favorite nook, caught on a piece of the bark of his favorite tree. Hurrying over, he carefully freed it. It was one of the poetry pages, thank god. It wasn't the one he had been working on earlier, with some of his best writing ever, but it was still better than losing the bulk of the poem. Reverently, he folded the paper in half three times, then slipped it into the left pocket of his black slacks. The breeze blew mostly Eastward. Of course, it could have shifted any number of times within the last few hours, but he had nothing else to go on and couldn't give up without further effort. Ugh, he should probably even look somewhat past the border. Ares hadn't left Crimson Dreams since he had made it back alive from his second trip to Dahlia de Mai. It was too dangerous, and there was nothing left out there for him. Well, at least.. not yet. He still wasn't ready to deal with the problem of his mother, but for at the moment he was sort of just okay with that. The time would come, eventually, and who knows? Maybe Haku would be creating enough pain for Tokyo in the meanwhile. Hell, maybe she'd even been kicked out of the pack. He wished he knew, but his only contact in the pack that he liked was Conor, and Ares hadn't seen him in forever and had no idea how to get in touch with him without entering Dahlian territory. Laughter caught his ear; swiveling, Ares hurried in that direction, wondering who was hanging out so close to CD lands. It was an unfamiliar, distinctly foreign scent. He found a white female.. and a sheet of familiar paper.. The artist in him reflexively assumed it was his other page of poetry, and that she was insulting it. Already stressed out, anger crossed his features and he stalked over. "Excuse me." He said sharply. "That's my paper." He held out his hand expectantly.

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[Ailbhe Latis]

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No Problem hun. ;3 Whoo for silliness!
WC:
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Giggling, the she-wolf eyed the piece of paper once more, skimming over the more advanced language following those intriguing sentences. Icy gems pondered their meanings, attempting to piece together things related to some of them. 'Poetry', for example, was an unknown word. Pohtry is what she assumed it said, and confusion colored some of her giggling as she attempted to decipher some of the phrases. A musky scent announced itself as a hand was thrust before her nose, and a deep voice pointed out an obvious flaw in holding the piece of parchment.


It was his. Well of course, since it wasn't hers, it had to belong to SOMEBODY. This... 'Buttface' character. Or, as she thought it should be pronounced, 'Bootface'. Eyes widened in surprise and the slim white fairy looked over at the grey-ish male beside her, registering what this meant. Maw gaped open slightly in shock as she cocked her head to one side, examining him. He certainly didn't look repulsive... so why would he be named after an insult? Surely, he was jesting. Anyone named somethin glike this would not look anything like this handsome grey fellow.


"You must be mistaken. You don't look anything like a 'Bootface'. You're far to handsome to have a name like that. This paper belongs to Bootface." She said, rather matter-of-fact. Not a hint of laughter or any sort of non-serious meaning twinged any of her words. Certainly, Ailbhe was not naive, but it was not hard for her to misunderstand anything she read. To her, this paper was the only link she had to a wounded soul in need of help. A poor, neglected, unseemly character that lacked any form of self-confidence or love. Of course, she had completely pushed aside the fact that he had changed his name to Ares, but that was something different. No no, it was insignificant.


She pondered the male before her. If he said this paper was his, then maybe he was getting it for Buttface? But he pretended he was the poor brute to get it from her more easily? She pondered this for a little while, and finally asked him a simple question. "Perhaps you know where Bootface is?"

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[Ares Chance]

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This thread is so silly, I like it. XD. 379 words Her response flustered him. Ares hadn't been expecting anything of the sort. Mostly he had been prepared for an embarrassed "oh, sorry" and then the paper to be back safely in his possession. There was also a small chance that maybe she just wouldn't give it to him; it would be the sort of taunting his mother would do for no reason other than boredom. But.. he hadn't expected this blatant disagreement about whether or not he owned it. It couldn't be his, because he didn't look like.. a bootface? Oh, God, wait, it was that piece of paper. And she was reading it? The compliment hit him off-guard, too. Too handsome to be a bootface. Ares didn't really think he was anything special (or else he wouldn't be so hesitant to try to take things further with Mati), but.. this person had no investment in him. Like, when Princess said things like that, it was easy to write off as sisterly obligation. But this stranger had no reason to say anything like that, so maybe, maybe she meant it? Weird. He blushed a little, under his fur. Compliments were such a foreign thing, he didn't know how to deal with them gracefully. And then there was the whole issue of deciding what the hell to do here. It wouldn't be that difficult to agree with her; say "Bootface" was a friend of his, or that he was writing a pretend story about some poor, unlucky fellow. Fabrication after fabrication jumped to mind, but the things that he had written on that page.. Old or not, they had jump-started his new life. They had been important. It seemed so wrong to deny they were his, when they contained so much of his deepest nature. The very idea of lying left a bitter taste in his mouth; it would be something Tokyo would do. Cling to the most convenient, most dignified explanation, without a single attempt to align things with the truth at all. God, no, that was the deciding factor. He would not be like his mother. "I am him." Ares insisted. "Or at least, I used to be. I'm Ares, now. It wasn't my choice, but that was the name I was born with. Please give me back my paper."

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[Ailbhe Latis]

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|D Gotta love the silly!
WC:
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Eying the strange male, the white she-wolf was rendered surprised by his insistence of being the owner of and the character spoken about in the paper. She cocked her head at him again, surprised, confused, curious. Completely oblivious of his embarrassment towards her compliment. Perhaps she had made a mistake? The name he mentioned... Air-eeze? She frowned and attempted to verify his words by sort of reading the finishing part of the page again. Though Ailbhe could probably be considered a reader on an elementary school level, she tried to push her illiteracy aside and sound out the words she did not know.


"Hmm... you are... Arrr's Chanse? ... or is it Arrees Chanke?" She cocked her head at the paper in a rather amusing manner, turning it this way and that in an attempt to delve its secrets. Icy gems flickered about in thought from word to word, trying to align words with their correct sounds inside snowy cranium. Frustration lined her maw as she turned the paper upside down and stared rather hard at it.


"I apologize... I'm not very good at reading..." She said absent-mindedly, cross-examining the paper again. C'mon, Ailbhe, faster! You don't want to keep the handsome fellow waiting, do you? It's all up to you now, whether or not he should have this paper... whether or not his identity was that of which he spoke... whether or not he was trustworthy... A rather exasperated sigh left slim fairy maw as light blue orbs focused once more on a now right side up piece of parchment.


"You say you are Bootface, but you have changed your name to... Air-eez? Is this how it is spelt?" She pointed at the line of words containing 'Ares'. Well, she could speak beautifully, but when it came to reading what she said, the poor lady could hardly make heads or tails of it. So, hopes high that the male was not going to take advantage of her lack of reading skill, the white she-wolf would let him hold the paper to point out how his name was spelt. Lavender streaked mane danced about on a light breeze as she looked quizzically at the younger brute, curiosity lacing her expression.

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