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SSWM - 617
“It isn’t far”
The wolfess explained to her oddly colored companion. The two walked the city streets, hope in their hearts that they would come across a few choice cans of paint. Mati had been thinking of the male’s dilemma since their last meeting. He had been living in a pack that allowed no individuality, where they couldn’t even shift and walk upright if they pleased. Mati had traveled home that night, after finding the stable empty (other then the stable hand) and thought deeply on the matter. It was certainly a moral issue, demanding such a thing to a beast that was simply growing and searching or it’s identity. Those types of rules were barbaric and ignorant, in the female’s eyes and as she marched down the broken concrete road it had become her mission to assist the male in his need to express himself by decorating his abode. They would find all they needed in the large warehouse like building, and it towered over the two beasts as the approached. The journey had been a lone one yet the day was still fresh and though crisp the sky was almost clear and the sun only covered by a film of clouds. Mati stopped at the entrance of the large building, who’s sign had been smashed long ago. Yet the glass of the door and the lighted sign was scattered across the entrance. She pointed to the male to watch his step, and the two meandered inside.
She had been here before, though only once. It was more the sort of place to get paints in bulk, not the small tubes that she used daily. There were no canvases here either, but Mati saw his blank walls as their canvas. She had brought a bag, but as they began to travel towards the city she figured that they would need something larger to carry the supplies.
Her adventures to the city were becoming more frequent and less anxiety filled the more she came and went without accident. At first, ever since meeting her father on the outskirts, Mati had seen the city as a place of violence and mayhem. But it wasn’t entirely true, they were simply free lands and allowed for those who wanted to, a hiding place from the rest of the packs. All the buildings served as the perfect getaway if one looked for a nook or cranny to disappear into. Just as Haven was once done. But after meeting the Inferni wolfess Rikka, Mati saw the city in a different, yet hazy and confusing, light. She had been able to run home from that experience and sleep off the mild drug, only to wake and wonder if what she thought happened was what really did occur. The memory was still hazy, and left Mati wishing to push the thought aside and focus entirely on the very distracting task at hand.
Her friend would be amazed, of so she hoped at the things that they would wind in the once “mega hardware store”. Anything and everything that one would need to repair the world was located here, though Mati often found herself lost among the vast aisles and uncountable objects. She couldn’t figure the purpose of half of the things, but with a little imagination she could conjure up something. The two managed to get beyond the doorway without cutting any toes or slicing any paws (though Mati figured that somewhere there would be a first aid kit among the constructive collage of supplies, though they were likely to bled to death before finding it). And iolet eyes blinked against the dim light and looked into the monstrous open building.
Where to begin?
By Erin<33
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Woo new table yay. Also I assumed that there would be some sort of remnant of the sign. Like the dust behind a painting?
Mati had so kindly accepted the Cour des Miracles wolf's request, almost a plea. Their rocky beginning had gleaned into a budding friendship over art and general creativity. It was too soon to tell where it would go, what would come of it, and what masterpieces would come forth from the pair. She had told him there was a place where they could find colors in cans that could go up on his walls, changing the mood he felt whenever present in that place. Even as he walked, he tried to think of what he wanted the brown female to create upon the room he had deemed his home. There were so many things to consider, and honestly, he was dense as a rock in the art via drawing medium. His creative outlets were music and sewing. Drawing would help in sewing, but he did not do anything particularly out there and off the wall; he just did things that were practical, useful, and durable.
Standing before a building he had never passed by before, Strel look up at it's bulk, marveling. Humans were so ingenious to have been able to create such big things. It was always a wonder to see these things up close, wondering how the glass was so clear and uniform, how the bricks had been made and how they had created the paint to coat their homes. So much had been lost, and it, quite frankly, sucked. Perhaps in time this knowledge would return, but it would be far beyond Strel's lifetime. What he needed now would have to be found among the remaining dregs of a once mighty civilization that fell and rose like the sandy dunes of the Sahara.
He let out a whistle at the store, trying to piece together what the name of it was. The redhead still could not really read, and it was difficult, but no one had bothered to teach him and he had not bothered to ask anyone. "What's this place called?" he asked, trying to see into the dim interior. "Meh...Meeg....ah..," he fumbled, narrowing his eyes as though it would help him piece together the letters better. Strel tried a second time, but gave up, giving a sigh of disgust at his inability to understand the writing the humans had left behind in their quick demise. "There's paint here?"
The glass was tricky to maneuver around, but somehow the male managed to avoid piercing his pads with the sharp shards. Light being scarce, the redhead had to squint in the dimness to make out the important details of the store's interior. There seemed to be shelves upon shelves with lord knew what. Strelein stood agog at all the things to be found, touched, prodded, and examined. He moved to the nearest one and picked up an object in cased in something shiny. He assumed it was something like plastic. It certainly did not smell all that natural and it had an absolutely unnatural gleam. Whatever was inside was well protected, so the male put the object down, forgetting about it promptly.
His attention shifted back into the interior, wondering ever more what everything was and what the purposes were. "This place is pretty trippy. What exactly are we looking for?" Strel knew they were looking for paint, but he had no idea what it would be in. Maybe more of those plastic things? Maybe a bottle? Box? Can? "Speaking of, did you have any idea what you wanted to paint for me?"
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SSWM - 316
just go with the flow ;D
Humans had created such glorious things, and she found that there had been little to curb their creativity. As much as she scolded them for the improper use of nature and this resources, Mati looked at their paintings, gazed along the lines of their architecture and stood in awe. Even the rectangle hardware store was a masterpiece, if one wished to thing outside of the box slightly. No, not so much in the appeal of the structure but it was simply beyond huge and she had been here before and still had a hard to taking in the grandness of the store.
“Megaware.” She spoke with a smile crossing her lips. The name was plastered on different things, and so she had come to know the place as simply ‘Megaware’ It might not have been right, but Mati was happy with the chosen name and as the entered the massive warehouse she pulled a rusted cart out of one of the aisles. “You can find everything here.” She commented and with a grin. Lots of what could be found had already been ransacked, the valuables that would keep some alive. Building supplies were still around in space assortment and of course there were things that no one found relative use for now a days. Insecticide, mouse traps, bubble wrap, they all sat on the shelves and Mati pushed the cart by them without a second glance.
“The painting department.” she explained as she moved towards the counter that held the cans of paint. The cans lined the aisle, and she let the male take in the sight of the mass amount of choices he had. Leaning against the counter she thought for a moment. “Well, do you like things from nature, or the human’s world?” maybe if she could get to know him more she would begin to understand what he might like along his wall.
By Erin<33
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There was no choice but to follow Mati, since Strelein was still at such a loss in the hardware store. When he had no idea what the majority of the things he was looking at were, he was going to be a little distracted, agog even, at all that was around him. Even following behind the brown colored woman, he would pause to prod at something before having to stride fast to catch back up before being distracted once more. It was so interesting in the store that the redheaded wolf let himself stop focusing on his surroundings to the extent that he would not walk into everything. Things had been knocked about and around, strewn on the floor in the rush to grab whatever could be taken in a hurry. Forgotten objects lay on the floor in no particular pattern where they had first fallen or had been kicked about by the animals that came exploring or scavenging.
Sometimes the colorful male saw something with skulls on it, clearly a marker for death and destruction. That was a symbol that transcended through time, space, and species. A skull placed at a border was a warning to the animal the skull had originated from, or just as a warning of unfriendliness. There had been things said that the humans had not invented war. Oh no, that had been here from the start of the planet. They not only fought wars, but they had perfected the art of it all. Somehow, the killing had spread to their homes. There were pesticides and traps on the shelves to kill creatures that dared to venture into the polished and clean places the humans had inhabited. Such mindless slaughter. But now, their world was over, and these were their remnants, albeit knocked about remnants.
The redhead sighed, following Mati once more. "As long as you know where you're going." He picked up a hammer, dusting it off with a quick brush of the hand and a soft breath. The price tag was still tapped to it's surface though the color had ebbed with time. It still said 12.95 and had the black bars that meant very little to Strelein. It was heavy in his paw, but he kept it held tight in his left fist.
"I think it's a mix a both, since without one or the other, there is no me, you, we." A box of nails dropped and he scooted away from the noise, looking slightly guilty. "I just like fun, bright, and happy, really." The hammer twirled in his hand, a rather slow spin due to the weight of the thing. "I'm really all up for whatever you envision of those. Anything will make me happy."
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Unfortunately Mati didn’t know what the space looked like. But in her head she created four walls. Door, windows could all be avoided. She doubted he had a room such as hers, with an entire wall of glass. Though, if he did the Dreamer figured she could work with and around it. The violet eyed woman watched the Miracles man pick up the hammer, answering him with an amused tone. “I think I’ve got it.” She wore a smile with the words. If there was one thing that Mati could manage, it was paint and painting walls. Yes there was a technique about it, as there was with everything, but it was slightly less strict then on canvas. The space of an entire room allowed would give her a sense of freedom that she found mind blowing.
It seemed like he was going to allow her to do as she pleased. It was a gift and a curse. It was hard to simply please everyone, and the woman had a hard time believing him when he said that anything would make him happy. Everyone had an opinion, everyone. Everyone had their likes and dislikes and Mati needed to know his. She pushed the cart down the aisle, “Bright.". She spoke to herself as she looked around. The selves were tall, basic in construction but she hoped that what they were looking for was on one of the lower shelves. They would need to be, for Mati wasn’t about to climb. She turned down the aisle and began to pull things from the shelves.
The easy things.
Rollers, brushes (only the premium kind), trays and long wooden sticks to mix the paint. Eyes wandered around the cans of paint, and then back to the colorful wolf. “Of course you like bright colors.” She spoke in a teasing tone, smiling as she woke from the color obsessed thoughts. It was hard to just come up with a color scheme and so she took an idea that she had held for no grand reason. “What do you think about a cityscape.” She said as she turned to face the male again, eyes lit with inspiration. Then it began;
“Not what the city looked like, but what it looks like today. A little bit of human mixed with the destruction and the natural growth that you see now. But,” She spoke with a quickened pace and a bit of excitement. “all the lights are on.” She stood to see if he had any reaction, or if could see it at all playing along with his mind’s eye. “Just like when there was electricity.” Again she waited, and then added in case she had lost him, “I could use a lot of primaries, bright colors.” The Crimson packwolf looked at the male, and waited. If he didn’t approve she could come up with something else.
man’s world?” maybe if she could get to know him more she would begin to understand what he might like along his wall.
By Erin<33
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My brain was blacking out halfway through because I haven't slept for over almost 48 hours 
Mati had begun to deviate from her straight forward path, clearly looking for things. The cart that had been standing oddly in the middle of the store was now filling up with the things that the artist deemed necessary. The majority of it was understandable, though a piece here and there gave doubt to the redhead. Wooden sticks? What on earth were they for? There were several types of brushes, which Strelein scoffed at for a moment, wondering why there was a need for more than one or two. Surely a roller would have sufficed? He picked up one that looked particularly fluffy, dropping the hammer into the cart in the meantime. The brush was springy and spongy, and looked like it was more suited for smaller details. Oh! That was probably what the woman needed the variety for; detail! He had almost forgotten he had asked for more than an average coat of paint.
He knew the boundaries he had given to the violet eyed woman were vague. Sure as hell it was going to be trickier for her to narrow down her vision. Strel did not mean to make it harder for her, though he was not truly sure what he really want for his room. Honestly, he was happy with practically anything as long as it was not gory and bloody. If she dared to do that, then he would definitely paint over it. No. Even then he would bear with it, simply looking away from it when he slept. Such a thing would have been cruel. A work of art required time, patience and heart and to paint over it would be a senseless destruction of something valuable. Though the redhead was positive that Mati would stick to his parameters well enough to give him some peace of mind in that direction.
Eying her, head cocked, Strelein waited for her to elaborate when Mati had turned to him for his opinion. His lavender eyes gazed back at her violet ones with curiosity, interest clearly peaked. Though as the woman explained, his smile grew wider and wider, pearly whites showing through at the end. The idea was terrific; he loved it the moment the barest shell of its image was implanted into his mind. Sure, the description merely gave him a sense of what it would be, but already he knew he would love being in his home more. A sparkling city, destroyed but not lost to the sands of time. Still glowing as a ruin to the testiment to the might of a dead civilization. It was perfect. Perhaps he would now be glad to bring someone there to show off a marvelous gift Mati would give to him with her time and energy.
"Mati!" he exclaimed, laughing out. "That's brilliant! I love, love, love it!" He gave a slight tail wag, highly uncharacteristic of his species. "I don't care what you use as long as you let your vision come to light. It sounds so amazing, just from the thought of it. I already can't wait." Strelein beamed eyes glittering with the mural in his mind's eye. He noticed he had begun to cling to the spongy brush, crushing it a bit underneath his grip. Dropping it, he gave a nervous laugh, still grinning.
"Maybe you could use black or grayer tones for the buildings and human things, and use bright colors as contrast? Perhaps for nature? But still make the human stuff shinyish?" he offered his suggestions, trying to be as unimposing as possible since he wanted to let Mati's idea be the dominant vision.
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She remembered the first time she had taken up paints and a brush. A male from the Valley had thought that her attempt to open a tube of yellow paint was more like a quest to eat it, and figured he best rescue her. She had used her teeth like the puppish fool that she was. He had then taught her, all the elements and they to work the bush along the canvas, and how to use color as her greatest tool. She wouldn’t forget the way he had told her to hold the brush, how to move it along the rough surface. Later she developed her eye for color, nurturing it and letting it grow with each piece she did. There was nothing more satisfying then finishing a piece of work. No, capturing the perfect color. Or maybe it was the moment she had her picture, the very best composition in her mind. Nothing was better. She wanted to share it, to find someone that knew her love and could appreciate it. Mati was lucky to have gotten lost in his pack lands, and find the redhead as he practiced his music. Never since meeting her art tutor had she known anyone that cared so much about the creative process.
The time passed so slowly, and Mati worried that he hated it. But he was smiling, and it was a genuine and grand smile that she could not see as anything but excited. Excited about the prospect and idea that she gave. “Really?” she asked, slightly astonished that at the first try she had nailed what he would like to have as his mural. A hand went a can of paint, white, and she lifted it into the carriage. They would need to bring the while thing back with them, the thought of it bouncing along the uneven ground assumed her to no end. “Oh im so excited!”
“Right! Yeah, that’s what I’m envisioning.” She looked away, eyes focusing on nothing but the image in her mind. A hand came up, as she needed to study it. “The city isn’t destroyed. Its alive, formed as it was the day they built it.” She looked back at him, she features a bit more serious then before. Though the smile was something that she couldn’t shake. “It’s the melting of human and,” She paused to find the best word to fit the idea, “us.” it was nature against the machine, bright against the dark. “We’ll win though.” The female assured him.
By Erin<33
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If it were not for Strelein's sense of exploratory necessity as a pup had given him the motivation to discover, but his discoveries gave him the drive to create. Finding the lute had been simply pure luck in a place of rotting wood and dust mingling with soot. It had been the diamond in the rough. Not only had it survived so long, but it gave him so much inspiration unlike any other thing the redhead had found in his past. There had been something about plucking those strings that brought up dust on the first plucking. He had jumped the moment it made that sound, but when it had done him no harm, he took it and cleaned it as best as he could with whatever way his lupine form could allow him. Then he had still be afraid to be caught in a body found unsuitable by the pack majority. Later he had realized that the only way to get the cleanest, purest sound possible was to clean it completely, inside and out. The hands given in the Optime form gave him the versatility needed to perform this. He broke the gravest rule to do so, all for the sake of finding a way to create music with the instrument.
The drive to sew had come from more shallow motivation. The yellowing pages had shown people in pretty clothes, embroidered, feathered, sequined, beaded, and glittery. The lure of sparkles was hard to fight, but the lure of looking good was impossible to ignore. Those ancient pictures were an example for the redhead to follow, to be as eccentric as possible, to experiment and practice. It was around the time he had started making his own clothing that he had begun to plan to leave. First, Strel had to learn how to survive on his own, but once he had, he left as fast as possible with as much a he could carry. All of it he had needed so there had been few things to bring since life in the Sanilac pack had basically ended for the wolf.
The look on the redhead's face softened as the Church woman's look grew slightly more serious. He patted her hand lightly before looking at the cans of paint. He saw a red, and from what the label said, it was a rather vivid one; cranberry. He had never had one of those berries, but the color was divine on the can. He wanted at least part of the mural, or a flat wall in the color. Hopefully it would be bright, like fire, and give heat and warmth to the dull, chilly place he slept in nightly. "Didn't we already win?" His grinned broadened again as he pulled up the can into the cart. The thing was heavier than it had seemed, but that was fine. "How long have you been painting, Mati?" he inquired, curiously. She certainly seemed to know what she were doing and what was needed to do a good paint job. "Who taught you?" Strel had not seen the woman's paintings yet, but he was sure her apparent knowledge showed her experience in the art.
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Sorry for the delay :]
SSWM - 1028
What it was for her was something magical. It was something that Mati needed more then anything. She had yet to experience a love deeper then the love she held for creating pieces of art, and her love for colors. There might be a day when she could find something deeper and more connected to her soul then the paints and the pencils that she used, but she had yet to come across it. In her mind it was a never ending love, the one thing that so easily replaced those that left her. In the beginning it was a curiosity, and now as she was tall in stature and mature in nature Mati found it an addiction of the sweetest kinds. She needed it; just as the paint brush needed her. With out it she could not become a creator, and with out her it was nothing more then wood and bristles. It was the need that wished to fulfill, as basic and elementary as one might see it. But in her eyes it was a stronger relationship then she had ever held. Her connection with her brother Haven was the only thing that came close to it, but in the end the brush, the paint and the paper had never left her, no matter how valid the reason.
The soft touch of his hand broke her haze, and violet eyes looked to ones that matched. Mati smiled softly, knowing that they needed to continue with their search, and to her delight he began exploring the shades of colors on the shelves. Standing among the hues of red, Mati let him choose the ones he would like and moved a step down the row towards the yellows. If there was a color that she loved more then yellow, Mati had not come across it yet. The opposite of her eye color, the hue of the sun could hold her curiosity for hours as she attempted to capture the very best shade for what ever picture she might be working on. His words made her laugh lightly at the reality of it, “We will this time too.” She teased with a mock stubborn tone in her voice. This time, when they wage the battle all over again, they would be victorious once more. Nature and all things that thrived with in it would be the ones to win over the concrete creations of man. The Dreamer saw it play out in her mind, and hoped that she would be able to play it out with her hand in the same ease.
The woman read the names of the colors on the cans, all of them seemingly unreal. There was no Cadmium yellow, but there was a “Where the Sun shines” and a “Mellow Yellow” right where she thought she would find it. The names were slightly out of the ordinary, apparently the colors that they wished humans to place on their walls were not the same as those found in the art stores that she frequented. “Pale Daffodil” and “Bicycle Yellow” were passed when he questioned her. At first the woman didn’t know how to answer him, she felt like she had always been painting, in one form or another. After a moment of thought, Mati answered. “Ever since I could shift,” she turned to him then, and tried to think of how long it had been. It felt like a lifetime, but it had only been “since spring.” Now that she thought about it, the summer and fall had indeed been filled with days and night, hours and hours, of painting and drawing, but it wasn’t the years and years it felt like.
He asked of her teacher, and Mati thought of his fondly. The time she had spent with him had been short, but the elements he had instilled in her were a permanent mark in her mind. He had spoken with an accent, worn a hat and scarf. His white hued face looked to her like any teacher would to their pupil, with hope and aspiration. “His name was Honoré.” Mati explained as she fumbled over the French accented name. As always Mati spoke of him fondly. “He was of Phoenix Valley. I met him right when I began to use paints rather then just pencils.” The woman pause as she thought back on that moment he had found her with the paint tube in her mouth desperately trying to get it open. “He taught me how to hold the brush, and mix colors. He knew so much, and painted bird houses.” She spoke with a smile. All the things that he had spoken about where basic, but that was exactly what she had needed then, the simple things. “I don’t think he thought himself a artist, but he was. He knew so much.” The earthen toned woman watched the male, “I haven’t been able to find him, since then.” It was a tragedy in the artist’s life. “I’ve read a lot on different types of painting, and sort of taught myself different things.” She explained, watching the male with a can of paint in her hands. It was “Citrus Splash” and she thought it would be perfect, for his fruity nature.
“Do you have anything that is just...” Mati trailed off trying to think of the right words that would capture what painting was for her. “it. Your thing and something that makes you feel like you have actually done something right?” at times she was frustrated with painting, and she couldn’t always make it work for her. But it never left, no matter how hard she pushed it away and no matter how much she hated it for not working with her. It would always there, even if she couldn’t feel it, and the inspiration filtered back into her heart and travel up to her mind. Unlike her mother, unlike the brothers that she loved and unlike those that she had hoped to someday love. It was not someone, and still Mati cared for it. Loved it like it would truly love her back. It was the one thing she was never without.
By Erin<33
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That was a very nice post <3
His fingers fumbled with the can lid, struggling to pop the thing open as Mati continued to talk. Oh, he was listening, but he was curious as to what the color truly was inside. He did not trust it, for these humans could have mislabeled the stuff ages ago, and the color inside could very well be a muck brown the shade of stinking mud after a rainstorm in the spring. But Strel's fingers simple could not open the metallic thing with his claws for they had begun to ache fast after a few moments of attempting it. Grabbing the hammer, he turned it to the pointed side and wedged the head under the edge of the rim of the can. It took all of two seconds to open the thing with a click. The dim light changed the color of the paint within the can, but from what Strelein could see, it was a red, like the labeling had stated. But the color was a little too much like blood, dark and deep, that the redhead had to close it and put it off to the side. He did not want blood red on his walls, reminding him of the amount that had no doubt been shed for countless eons of time.
Instead, he searched in a different direction for something that sound bright. "Citrus Splash" sounded quite lovely, like a fun party by a turquoise sea on a golden beach in a place warmed by the light of a bright tropical sun. A heat spread through his heart at the thought of that. He had another idea for what he wanted on his walls now, adding to the world that Mati had already imagined and he had only given a few boosts of ideas. This one, he felt, could be all his own. He loved Mati's idea, he did, but he wanted to put this idea up, even if it were just a small part. Strelein wanted it there too. Before he could reveal it to Mati, he opened the paint with the hammer first this time. It was a nice orange color, not terribly vivid and obnoxious, but a tangerine kind of orange. He oh'd at the color, eyes brightening at it. It really was pretty. Quickly he closed it and placed it almost delicately into the cart.
"It sounds like he was a very important person to you, Mati," he said softly, eyes matching his subdued tone. It really did seem as though he had been so very dear to her, having taught her to paint properly. "I'm sorry that he's not part of your life anymore, it sounds like you really loved him." Strelein thought she most likely cared for him a mentor, a kind of uncle that doted on his niece. He did not know much about their relationship, but clearly it had been a good one for her to sound like that talking about Honoré. He could not help but feel envious. Why not? Strel had no one to talk about like that, having no one that had ever really supported him in such a way. He had always had to do it on his own, with mild assistance here and there. Everything he had done was done with his very own drive. Perhaps one day it would happen, but he was content to know he had taught himself his own tricks well enough.
As his hand reached for another can of a paint called 'Surfer', which he did not really understand, Strel looked up at Mati. The question she posed for him was tricky, considering his passions were divided almost cleanly in half. He grinned, a sort of subconscious kind of absentminded smile, as he thought. His first pleasure had been music, which he still did, though less frequently. Whenever he gazed at his lute, he felt guilty, feeling as though he had begun to abandon the thing that had set him on his road here. It had been his constant companion on his trips to the human lodgings in Michigan, and now it remained in his room, almost hidden from view behind his mass of blankets. The lute was constantly cleaned and tuned, but he only plucked at it now and then, always driven away from his room for something or other.
His other love was to make clothing, and it had begun to overtake the musical passion. Strel's quality of clothing had improved from the things he had arrived in, getting more and more elaborate and well made. His stitching had gotten better, closer together and far less sloppy. He had put in so much time in it, decorating the few things he had in practice before he deigned to make himself a new outfit. Strel wanted to make clothing for other people, to make himself feel needed and useful rather than like the tenant feel he had now. He already promised exchanges of clothing for a person or two, but he wanted the people in his pack to know he was the one to go to for custom clothing with whatever razzle-dazzle that they wanted added. Was it so much to want? Was it too much? Perhaps someone else in the pack had taken that position, but Strel still wanted them to have the option of making him feel needed.
"Yes...I do," he said slowly, as if realizing exactly what it was. "I sew. I want to be better all the time. I want to be useful. I want people to see what I make and think, 'this is for me, this is what I wanted and this is what I got'." Strel tapped his nails on the 'surfer' can's surface idly, imagining someone saying those words to him in thanks, a smile on their faces. "I haven't had anyone really ask for something from me, but it's a dream. I also love music, but this is my passion." He sighed, turning away. He felt it would be a long time before any of that would come true, before he could have a big studio where old dummies stood with clothing in progress.
"Anyway, I had this idea for the mural, or maybe another part of the walls," he said with a changing tone, wanting the subject to be different as the other one gave him mixed feelings of longing and impatience. "Perhaps a beach, warm, tropical, bright, with humans enjoying the nature? To show that there was not always a struggle between us?"
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look, i have a lovely new table ;D
With a smile the woman watched her friend fiddle and attempt to open the can. She thought often about the fact that it was certainly odd that they had become such good friends. Besides her brother Mati didn’t have many that she could call her friend. If Ares had stayed, perhaps they would have grown closer. But Mati saw the pups she had helped to raise as her family more then a friend and even the other young woman, Princess, of her pack was not close to the Church woman. The two had a rocky history and though they had made a sot of amends, Mati still felt the tension between them. Princess’ relationship with Haven was questioned by the sister, but Mati had to believe that if he was happy and trusted the girl then Mati could as well. Strelein was just someone Mati could be herself around, and one that appreciated every color crazed quirk that she didn’t normally show.
The earth toned woman gave a soft and slight nod concerning ‘Citrus Splash’. It was a bright, yet deep color. It held the little light that the building gave, and Mati agreed that it would provide the necessary pop the male’s room needed. Though she could not see where it would be placed among the composition she had been holding in her mind. Still she liked it too much to set it aside and it seemed like he liked it too. Strelein’s voice floated to her ears and his soft tone made her only glance up at his face. His words were sweet, delicate and Mati held them close to her heart. Honoré was important, even though he had slipped in and out of her life so quickly. She had always wished him good will where ever he might be and was sad that she had been to young and too scared to go off and really look for him. It all seemed too late, and sort of sad that he was one of the only male role models that the woman could look to with pride.
She had a few, though the males of her pack were few and far between. It happened when the two leaders were females, and Mati figured that they were simply intimidated at times. But there were some, of course. When she was much younger her Commander Savina’s brother Ehno was a figure that she had looked up to. He was creative with woodwork and had built a small house that she still needed to paint. He had seemed like an Uncle figure, though he had given her bouts of disappointment, though it was Mati’s new promise to forgive and forget and more importantly leave things that did not involve her alone. Jaz was another, his kind smile and affectionate voice was always encouraging. It was odd that Mati saw a man she had only met once, and Onus the masked coyote the two that she looked up to most. Onus had met her when she was just a pup, and then he saved her from Corvus. Mati would never forget him, just as she would never forget Honoré. “I am sure he is well and happy. Just wish he was around to see the things I do now.” Mati spoke with a genuine smile, but she felt the sorrow.
Though this was it, the one thing that Mati needed, or so she thought. Perhaps she would be satisfied with nothing but her art for the time being. But soon enough she would find that there was a passion much deeper in her life. Paints and drawing would not leave her entirely, but take a back seat to what was to come. Ares had given her a small taste of the feelings that could be erupted from her being, but he was gone, and Mati was yet again left with her work. She need only wait, and her heart would know true love. But for the moment the Dreamer saw only art as her soul mate. It came with trouble at times, just as any writer or musician might Mati felt the creative wall bash against her head. Thick and unmoving she had hit it many times, and she wasn’t always able to moved above it. There had been moments where she had given up on a certain project, never to pick it up again or she white washed the canvas and started over again. Whether she was loving it eternally, or she was fighting tooth and nail against it Mati knew that it was the one thing she would always have.
Her companion spoke, and Mati stopped her search for colors to listen. At first she was surprised by his passion of choice, but it made all the sense in the world. Mati could tell that the male enjoyed all that was extravagant and held a creative touch. She could also nod at the fact that he wished to always grow in his talent and be better then the day before. “Maybe you can make something for me. Though, I’ve never worn anything really.” Mati spoke, shaking her head at the thought though smiling since it sort of embarrassed her more then she disliked it. “I do have a scarf though, just for fun.” her body was large, unlike the small figures of other females that traipsed around in dressed and gowns. She was tall and her shoulders broad and she had always thought that she was too large for anything that humans might have made to wear. Instead she traveled in the form Mother Nature had provided, and she had always felt just fine in it. But maybe if there was something that she wanted to look extra nice for, and then she might just want a dress or something to wear.
His talents did not stop at picking colors and sewing. No, the Miracles man was also a musician. As he turned around Mati was unsure if he was upset by her question. It was easy to let emotion get wrapped up into, but that was what made it all so enjoyable and what made it a passion to begin with. With the switch of his tone he moved the subject right along before Mati could think of anything to share. She liked his idea, and like it even more because he had come up with it. “Sure!” She said, knowing that the “Citrus Splash” would certainly work for a beach scene. “On another wall, that would be nice.” The woman took the “Surf” paint and placed it in the cart and then looked for a new light and dark neutrals. “We can do what ever you’d like.” Mati spoke with a smile.
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Ugh, who madeTHAT?. Sorry I'm a bit late but the length scared me D: Also, we should probably get them to CDM to actually PAINT soon ahah.
Strelein shook his head, keeping the grin on his features light and a slight laugh airy and brief. He could only wonder how no one had told her this before. If they had, why had she not taken it to heart? "Oh, Miss Church, even if he's not here, surely the thought of him lingers. Besides, if he had stayed around, would you feel as free to paint without the constant thought of him perhaps not liking what you do?" It was entire hypothetical since the redhead did not really know what kind of teacher Honoré was for Mati. Not only did he not know what kind of student she was, nor did he know what kind of artist she was. For all he knew, she could love critiques and simply ignore the comments that were demeaning or the ones that did not offer their enjoyment of the pieces.
Proudly waving around his hammer, as though it were his weapon of choice, rolling his eyes at the ceiling. "Of course I could," he said rather egotistically. His pride had been growing with each completed piece, each completed spool, each completed stitch. Somehow the more the redhead sewed, the more his ego swelled. Along the line, he would probably crash and burn once someone rejected his work to his face, or even behind his back. Then he would end up crying in the corner of his room, which would hopefully be fully painted by then, and cut cloth while crying. Of course he dramatized mentally, imagining the drama he could create so morbidly depressed. "I'd just need to get some fittings and measurements so that it would fit."
Strelein wondered what kind of article of clothing the Church woman wanted, since the redhead did not know her tastes or what occasion such a piece would fall in play for. But whatever it was the brown hued female wanted it for, he would oblige, eager to please her as she was to please him with his room. Everything he would make now would be for free, gifts. Though he wondered if once he grew in his reputation and his skills increased, he should charge his commissioners some sort of favor or exchange. It seemed appropriate, but Strel would not know where the line was drawn from friendly presents to charged work. "Maybe I can make something that would go with the scarf? What would you want? A dress? Blouse?" he questioned, knowing fully well they were getting far beyond the subject needed here.
A sigh escaped him as Mati stated that the art would be whatever he wanted. It seemed as though arguing with her would be pointless, so the redhead let the woman keep at it like that. He himself would have been the same in Mati's place. It was about pleasing the customer, costumer though he was not. "Very well. I just hope my walls will be suitable since you haven't seen what it looks like. But you have been to the Hotel, right?" He looked at her intently, hoping the lack of her visiting his home would not be an issue here. Strelein sincerely wished that nothing would make their endeavor a useless one. "Oh, Mati, what's your favorite color?" he added hastily, rather off topic. Perhaps they could incorporate the color into his mural?
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we can start a new thread, taken place a few days after this one? feel free to either reply, IM or PM me :3
It was likely her lack of a father that made Honoré’s brief visit into her life such an important one. She tended to linger on the better moments of her life, however short. The times she had been attacked had made her close in and try to forget the scary moments and remember only the good ones. As she grew and matured she was able to cope with the memories, and the nightmares were less and less. The more she experienced, each bringing a light to her life rather then a shadow, Mati began to learn that there was more to look forward to in life rather then to be frightened of. The brown wolfess nodded lightly as his words. They certainly held some truth, without another’s influence she was able to be who she wished to be as an artist. She could explore any type of art without the small voice of any beast in her ear. But then there were moments where she wished to have another voice and a mind to throw ideas at and see what stuck. She looked to Strelein for that at this time, and he had yet to let her down.
“I think you might be right.” She gave the male, her smile turning coy. As sharp and cold as she had been the day they had met Mati was constantly feeling a gratefulness come over her when she looked at the redhead. Meeting him had brought a much needed friend into her life, a creative outlet and companion. The thought of clothing made Mati smile and at the same moment she grew nervous. It was hard for her to think of an outfit, or something of the kind on her body. She was certainly appreciative that the male was excited at the thought of making her something and by his reaction he was quiet eager to do so. It was so very obvious that he held the same passion for sewing as Mati did for painting. “Okay.” Mati agreed with a slight bit of bashfulness. What it would take to get the measurements was certainly unknown, but Mati figured that it wouldn’t hurt.
Oh course she did not know what she would ever want, and when he asked she was at a loss. Her confusion was plainly written on her face and the female looked at the paint and cans and brushes rather then at him as she spoke, “I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to think about it.” of course she didn’t have anyone to dress up for, and nothing to attend that would require anything formal. Or casual even. She silently hoped that he would have some ideas for her, since he was the expert.
“I haven’t been inside.” She commented, remembered a time she had passed the large building. It had been right after visiting Haven when their mother Naniko had left Crimson Dreams. Violet eyes had lingered along the outside of the hotel but she had no time or at the moment interest to venture inside and look around. It seemed old but “I am sure the walls will be fine.”. It would all work out, she thought as she put a small bucket of Spackle and a trowel into the cart. It was fairly full and would be heavy to push back to his pack lands.
Mati found it sweet that he asked about her favorite color, and oddly enough the two how doted over it for a few moments. “Yellow.” It was the Sun, and everything light and pleasant. She offered a soft smile as they walked through the aisle. “I think this is all I’ll need.” Mati commented, shrugging slightly and heading towards the door. It was rare to gather everything for a large project in one visit. She was likely to be back looking for one thing or another, but that was certainly expected.
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Ugh, who madeTHAT?. Sure, if you don't mind I wouldn't mind ending the thread with my post, or if you want to that's good too xD
Strelein saw the look on her face that told him she had absolutely no idea what she would want to grace her features. Oh well. There was little to be done about besides giving the woman some visuals and options to choose for. Strel could try to scavenge some photos or something with pictures in them that had somehow been preserved through the ages. Surely something survived unexposed to the elements of the encroaching flora and fauna? Nevertheless, he would have to reassure her somehow that he would do what he could to help her decided on something that would be appealing. "Don't you worry about that, I'll try to find some resources to glance at." The redhead looked at her, more objectively now. He wondered what would suit her the most, considering her hobby. Something that would be trickier to get paint on, or perhaps something that paint would look intentional on. Maybe try to make a medium dress with a more spring-like quality with many splotches of dye that went together. "But do try to think of something, alright?" He grinned at her encouragingly.
Noticing the amount of things in the cart, Strel gave a worried look. It looked pretty heavily laden with painting materials. There was a well-worn path made by the pack to and from Halifax, but even then there would be the ice, branches, and other things that would get in the way of a clean move. Plus whatever bumps happened to be in the path would wobble the cart, making it harder to push. They would simply have to find a way to push on through, or else they would be forced to either carry it in trips or recruit more help. Strel did not really want to have to rely on more people on their personal project. That would make it feel slightly less special, he felt. "I'm sure it should be fine, Mati," he offered, trying to sound confident enough to agree with the Church woman. Though he felt a little more confident in the fact that they would certainly struggle every bit of the way home unless they found a paved human-made path.
He chuckled, clapping his hands together once. "You certainly seem like a yellow kind of person." The color certainly seemed to suit her. To him, her color was more of a soft yellow, like a nice pastel. It seemed to reflect her more than a bright, obnoxious kind of yellow that stung if you looked at it too long. Then, laughing a bit more brightly at the amount of things in the cart, the redhead rolled his eyes at Mati. "You sure we won't need anything else? Maybe another cart full of rollers? Sponges?" he teased gently, moving to stand beside the woman as she managed to push the cart through the debris of the aisle. Strel added whatever strength he had to aid her, wondering why he never bothered to build himself up to be a more attractively built male instead of a rather lanky thing. "Let's hope for lucky brush strokes!" he cried out, first pounding up into the air.
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