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It was decided; Ari Sohs didn't like the ocean. Even now as he sat on the bright beach (a few yards away from the water, mind you), the smells and the sounds were alien and fully linked to the fear he felt when his brother brought him here to leave him. The salty smell looked like Nikolaos' cold eyes — glimmering with pity and compassion — and the monotonous sound seemed like the background music for his cold statements and false promises. Still, it was something totally new for him. Ari had grown up in marshland that had been fueled by the many lakes and rivers of their home. Fresh water, all of it. This, however, was almost too vast for him to comprehend. He could see around the island in the distance just that — water. Miles and miles and miles of it. He felt completely dwarfed, and helpless. Even more so than usual.
He felt better, though. A few days of sitting around and thinking would do that to you. He felt tired of thinking, so he reserved himself to art. Nothing fancy — just a rough drawing in the sand. Holding the rough stick in his hand as if it were a delicate instrument, he added a few gouges and lines to add more texture to the boat that he was drawing. Ocean led to boat in his mind, and it was a mighty fine picture of a little one-sailed vessel. Ari had seen a boat once, one very similar to that in his drawing. It had been going down the river that fed the swamps, carrying things from the packs and towns upriver. He had been in awe of it. How lovely it would be to sail on a ship... And with that thought in mind, he absent-mindedly drew in a small silhouette on the ship's bow — perhaps himself, embracing the wide ocean in a much brighter fashion than he did presently. He hardly noticed the clouds that were converging overhead, dimming the afternoon sun. A storm might be on its way, and he was too absorbed in his thoughts to really notice.
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[html] [/html]Sometimes when Beppe heard the noise of the ocean he could feel what it was like to be on it. It would seem to him like his whole body was swaying, and he would brace all his muscles against the deck of the phantom ship. Memories would flood back, too, like the salty water that pulsed through the small portholes higher up on the ship that were really meant to let the water drain. Sometimes the memories would be content to come on gradually, like water leaking through the wooden planks in the musky ceiling, discoloring it and giving the rooms a strange smell.
The boy felt strangely robotic, as if the presence of his mother had ensured his consciousness, kept him real. Ever since he could remember, Maria had been his constant companion and the only friend he had really known since recently. She was like his conscience even, his soul. So much depended on her, that now she was gone, he was lost to sea.
In this way, he was drawn to what must have wedged them apart. The ocean; on one side, their homeland. Here, where he stood, a lonely lump of land. Maria was still here somewhere, but Beppe had no clue where. She had disappeared like the smoke of a snuffed candle, dissipating into the air and drifting away. Every part of the boy's body yearned to go find her, and so much energy was put to wanting that he felt as if he was in a constant state of turmoil. He had no clue where to start, no clue where she would have gone. If it was possible he'd go after her, search far and wide, even, but his brain knew what wandering could bring and he was hesitant to do it again. It was how he had lost everything he had known, and he didn't want to lose what he had just found.
Beppe walked along the beach, brown eyes following the ground and glancing up every once and a while just to make sure the coast was clear. Another figure seemed to appear on the beach, and Beppe, drawn to its quiet presence, continued to move slowly towards it. It had scrawled something in the sand, a picture, maybe, and as Beppe drew closer he recognised the shape. It made him feel a connection to the wolf that was sitting on the sand, and if he lacked any inhibition he would have simply sat down beside them, content with some seemingly like-minded company. Courtesy still lingered in the back of his mind, though, and he said, so gently it almost rode away beneath the sound of the waves, "Can I sit?" He motioned towards a spot beside the wolf and a small smile ghosted his face.[html] [/html]
[html] Thanks for joining.
The sounds and smell of the ocean deluded the presence of the stranger, so Ari didn't really notice him until he was standing right beside him. Ari tensed, and he didn't dare look up. For all he knew, it was someone who meant him harm. His hand grasped his drawing stick more, and he didn't move much more than that until the stranger spoke. Ari was surprised — the voice didn't sound very old. Even around his own age. He sacrificed the benefit of not knowing and looked to see his new companion, and, indeed, he couldn't tell a huge age gap between them. His question came back into Ari's mind, and he shrugged his shoulders, letting the tension out. Yes, he said quietly, knowing he couldn't deny the stranger the right to sit down.
Ari didn't know what else to say, so he didn't. He was very socially awkward, normally trying to make himself very uninteresting so others would simply leave him be. He was never sure if he wanted company or not, but he thought that he didn't mind it. Others just made him nervous, and scared. So he only flicked his wrist a bit, drawing a few lines under the ship, designating a choppy ocean. Not very different from the ocean they were near, which was beginning to toss more restlessly as the storm came nearer.
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[html] [/html]  My pleasure!
The sky seemed to be getting darker as minutes passed, black clouds roiling in the distance as they doggedly continued to come towards the shore. Beppe hadn't been expecting to be turned away, but he still felt a small flicker of happiness when the other granted him permission to sit down. He did, as gently as possible, and rested his chin on his bent knees. The boy's deep brown eyes traced across the lines in the sand, empathizing with the other's feelings even though he couldn't possibly know them.
As the other wolf drew a few wiggly lines, the Italian boy furrowed his eyebrows a little bit and said, "I like your picture.. I have just come off of a ship, from Italy." Perhaps by sharing a little bit of his history, a little bit of his identity, he could get the stranger to open up a little as well. Right now, all Beppe craved was a little quiet company, with just enough words to make it feel like friendship. [html]
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Thanks, Ari commented thoughtlessly as the stranger complimented his picture, feeling a small flicker of pride glow within him. At home, no one had ever complimented his drawings, except for Nikolaos. His older brother would look at Ari's work, smile, and sometimes take a piece to his own room. Ari remembered sneaking into Nikolaos' room and seeing a few works of his own on the walls in the corner, away from prying eyes. Such thoughts on his brother dimmed, however, as Ari remembered it had been his one advocate that had led him here and left him. Therefore, he blocked out all thoughts of Nikolaos. At least until he came back.
The other kid continued, and what he said made Ari raise a thoughtful eyebrow. Italy? He had never heard of that place. But still, this wolf had been on a ship! On the ocean! What an adventure. He glanced up from his drawing, blue eyes lit up with admiration, before saying, I've never been on a ship, but I've seen them. I'd like to travel on one one day. He paused before sheepishly adding, Where's Italy? His mother had never thought much of educating him. He scarcely knew where he lived, let alone anything else. His arithmetic was scarce, and he didn't know how to read or write. All a shrine to how his mother dearest loved him so.
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[html] [/html]It was only then that Beppe noticed the small figure planted on the bow of the boat, and he wondered on what whim -- artistic or emotional -- it had been placed in there. Perhaps the ideals the Italian boy had attached to ships were much different than what others had; the small creature on the ship's bow seemed to be enjoying itself. Maybe the wolf would have experienced that same feeling, arms up, embracing the wind, but he had been, essentially, trapped beneath the lid of the boat, amongst wooden pillars and smelly sailors and seasickness. To him, a ship was not freedom. That wasn't to say he wasn't pleased with where he had ended up.
It would be nice to travel on the top of a ship, Beppe was sure, and he imagined that he was the little figure drawn into the sand. Surely the smell was much better up there, and if there was sufficient fresh air to propell the ship there would certainly be enough left over for him to breathe. And oh, with the ocean's spray landing on one's hair. The boy's mind drifted, and for a moment the dizzying rhythm of the sea was not something he associated with unpleasantness.
Instead of replying verbally, something the boy thought would become too complicated, Beppe smiled deeply, nodding, and made gentle eye contact. He struggled with the other's question, though, and closed his eyes momentarily to try to picture the path the ship had taken to reach the rocky shores it was destined for. The ocean was far too vast, though, that there was no way the puppy could have kept his bearings peering through a small porthole. These thoughts brought back so many memories, but Beppe didn't attempt to push them away.
"Hmmm..." he started, eyes drifting out across the sea. "It is weeks away, by boat. A little part of a very large place, not like here... There are a lot of other countries, right beside it. All of Italy is so close to itself, so that you can go from town to town in only a few days..." He was echoing his mother's words, trying to imagine that he did have experience doing this. The boy didn't remember much of his home country, really. "I am not sure in which direction it is from here, but it is somewhere in front of us." Beppe and his mother had not travelled north after sneaking off the ship, he knew that much. As Beppe tried to remember what he could of Italy, he felt frustrated with how little he could. [html] [/html]
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Ari's blue eyes lifted to the other wolf as he thought and spoke about this place called Italy, and his gaze eventually ventured before him — and far out to sea. His eyes flickered as he took a mental journey, flying over mile after mile of endless sea before coming upon an entirely new world. He had scarcely known of the sea, apart from the river that fed the marsh led to it, let alone lands on the other side of it. It made the world that he had grown up with seem very small. Still, it just fed his interest. I would like to travel, when I'm older, he said distantly, a small smile creeping onto his face. He felt as if he could confide in this stranger — the other had already confided in him about the ship and Italy. I barely knew there were other place outside where I grew up. I would see ships, though. They would sail down the river that fed the marsh, toward the sea. I always wondered where they were going, but no one told me. He thought and laughed, a rare occurrence. Maybe some were going to Italy.
He smiled and looked to the other youth, then at the clouds that were amassing beyond him. He stood up, first really noticing how nasty the weather was getting. Rain was just beginning to fall, and the waves were becoming more vicious. We should leave before the storm comes in, he stated, and took a few strides away from the coastline. He looked behind him, waiting for his new companion. He wondered briefly who he was before asking, Who are you? I'm Ari. Best to at least know who his companion was.
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[html] [/html] Sorry for the delay. Happy March!
The boy felt a drop on the top of his muzzle, but the feeling didn't seem to register. He had pulled himself so far within his skin that, besides the words and actions of the boy he was sitting beside, the world seemed to fade away and disappear. The roar of the ocean, becoming more and more angry, had become whispers, the sound of wind travelling through naked trees. His toes and fingers, accustomed to the more amiable climate of his home country, were beginning to become numb and clumsy, but he was ignorant to to feeling.
As the smile broke on the other's face, it seemed like a little glimpse of sunlight on the muddled, confused vastness of gray that surrounded them. Beppe himself had found difficulty in mustering a sincere smile for the last few days, and the other didn't seem like someone to bare his feelings like that. The Italian didn't think the other seemed glum, but he was certainly pensive. When someone who seemed so reserved smiled, it felt like a reward. Beppe smiled, too.
The laugh made it seem like the clouds were parting a little bit more. "Yes... I would like to travel also. More, I mean. I did not know there were other places either, until I stumbled on the boat. It was a long time of confusion, and now that I am here I understand what had gone on... Perhaps the ship I have been on was going to your marsh." He smiled at the other, bringing his hands to his lap and rubbing them together. Another drop of water fell on his ear, but it went unnoticed.
It wasn't until the other stood up that Beppe noticed how black the clouds were getting, and the rain that was starting to fall. He stood up as well and followed, nodding at the other's suggestion. Beppe wasn't sure where they could go; he hadn't had a storm here before and hadn't had to seek out shelter. He took a quick glance back at the drawing in the sand, knowing that it would be washed away by the rain. "I'm Beppe."[html] [/html]
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Perhaps one of the good things about Ari was that he wasn't very complicated when it came to his emotions. When he was sad, he was sad. When he was happy, he was happy. When he was angry, he was angry. There was usually no gray area between them, and all were very easy to identify. His simplistic nature seemed to end at his emotions, however — the mind and heart working behind them as anything but simple. Perhaps he might have been much more open and upbeat if he hadn't grown up in a place where there were no friends to be had and laughter was a raucous sound that would get you yelled at.
He gave another fleeting smile at the idea of the other passing through Veneficus on a ship, and although it was highly unlikely, it was nice to know that the ships actually had inhabitants. At one point in time, Ari had been somewhat convinced that they were empty besides the people who ran them. That was more true than he thought, as the ships had been more cargo ships than passenger ones, but nevertheless.
It wasn't until Ari brought the weather to his attention did the stranger really notice, and Ari had to think it was somewhat comical. He didn't even seem to notice the raindrops falling on his head. Nice to meet you, Beppe, he responded automatically, beginning to take a few more steps toward the forest that fringed the coastline. D'you think we could get out of the rain in the forest? he asked, peering into the depths. It was getting darker and darker by the second, with all the rainclouds. Ari was beginning to feel much more uneasy.
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[html] [/html]Beppe had not seen a storm like this before, and as his eyes wandered across the sky, slick and black as the wet pebbles at the boy's feet, he could feel his wet hair sticking up. He was accustomed to rain, to fog, to wind, but the color of the sky and the way the clouds seemed to completely cover the sun was unnerving. Ari, surely, knew what to do, so Beppe would follow him as long as his plan seemed relatively logical. Walking with a little difficulty across the stones, a feeling which reminded him of the way he had played with Empusa that day, he came up beside his new friend. The Italian nodded as he squinted to keep the rain out of his eyes, and replied, "Nice to meet you."
As Ari posed the question, the black boy stared at the woods for a few moments before nodding decisively. "Yeah," he said, before again starting to walk carefully over the slippery rocks. As he was placing one foot down, a burst of light illuminated the sky and there was a crack of thunder. The boy jumped and stopped immediately, trying not to panic, and asked, just loud enough to be heard over the rain, "What was that? I have not heard this noise before." Neither of them had crumpled in pain, so either they were lucky or there was really nothing to worry about. [html] [/html]
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Ari, on the other hand, knew this weather almost as well as he knew sunshine. Whether it was simply his old home's position, or the fact that those forsaken marshlands were cursed by some evil spirit, but thunderstorms had easily become a part of a weekly routine. Ari knew that they would need to find shelter, and that huddling underneath a tree would be a bad move due to the fact that lightning leaped from host to host before returning to the mother earth. He also knew that lightning was not fond of having to go through so much trouble, and often killed its past hosts on its way through.
At the other boy's affirmative, he moved into the dark and slightly more dry depths of the forest fringing the bay. Before him he could see that the forests eventually led back to Jaded Shadows, and to his left he could see many mountains rising. He had wandered down the beach a fair way, so they weren't too far away. Shelter under rocks is best. Trees lead the lightning right to you, he warned, beginning to head southward, looking for any rocky outcropping that they could use as shelter. Beppe's questions, however, startled him, and not nearly as much as the loud thunder clap. The sound? That's thunder. And the light is lightning. I was told that lightning comes from rips between this world and the spirit one, and that lightning comes down to go back to the earth. The thunder is simply the sound of this world angered at the intrusion.
As one could tell, his knowledge of science was a skewed one of mythology and the teachings of a highly superstitious pack. Not that Beppe seemed more schooled in what it was either, though.
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[html] [/html]So sorry for the delay! b:
Keeping close to the other wolf's side, Beppe moved towards the forest. He would trust him, no doubt about that, as it was clear that Ari was more knowledgable on the subject. "Alright," the black boy said quietly, staying within arm's reach. He wondered why trees would show the lightning where the living creatures were, but not the rocks. Perhaps it was because the trees themselves were alive, and they could point the way. Rocks could not move, and were therefore unable to communicate by any means at all.
"Hmm," he mumbled, lifting his eyes to the sky as he learned the words for these things. The rain was still coming down in huge drops, and he had to avert his gaze quickly to avoid letting any more water hit his eyes. Beppe smiled at the other boy's explanation, glad to hear something so poetic be the reason for something natural. "Oh, wow," he said softly, picturing it himself. He felt a lot less panicked than he did out on the rocks by the beach, even though they were travelling through the forest and the trees were traitors.
"How do you know these things?" Beppe could not imagine the way one would figure it out; perhaps Ari knew of a wise wolf who could talk to the trees, and tricked them into telling him the secrets of this second world.
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[html] Wrap this up? (: I think we'll be having another thread shortly.
It was pretty shocking that there was something in the world that Ari knew more about than the average child, which created a pretty strange glow in his heart. It was not pride, no — just more the sense that he was, in mind, catching up to the rest of the world after his life-long delay. Or something like that. He wove quickly between the towering trees, dodging into clearings and away from the swaying trunks. The mountains ahead loomed closer with each step, but fear was omnipresent in his mind at all times. He did not enjoy thunderstorms — at home, he usually refined himself to his room until they were over with. They were, he imagined, ten minutes away from the shelter of the rocks. Ten minutes dodging fate and what he imagined were angry spirits.
He chuckled coldly at Beppe's question, fragments of memories flooding back into his mind. My mother was the self-proclaimed master of all spiritual means in my old pack. She taught me everything, he said, though he didn't say why he saw less and less reason to place all trust in his mother's teachings. She had, after all, foresaw a terrible curse on him and had tried to kill him. Swallowing heavily, he continued racing along whilst making sure Beppe was at his side. Eventually, he came across a stack of granite and stone at the foot of the towering mountains he had seen. Finding it as a suitable shelter until the storm had made its way across, he dodged inside, breathing heavily.
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i fought in the old revolution
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The lightning seemed to be getting more frequent, and the world angrier and angrier. Beppe imagined that this spite was the reason that the raindrops were getting harder and heavier, and the sky darker. The boy would have liked to know a lot of these spiritual things the Ari mentioned, and hoped that maybe once they found shelter he could tell him more. Beppe's mother had taught him many important things, but the boy was sure that she didn't know about what lightning was or the anger that followed it.
It was strange to think about how fast time could go. In the excitement of the storm the Italian wolf had forgotten that his mother had disappeared a few weeks ago. Perhaps the things he had learned from her by now was all that he would ever learn. A tightness borne from an anxiousness darker than the broiling clouds above them settled in his chest. "I see," he said softly, perhaps soft enough that Ari didn't hear him, and kept close to the other's side.
His new friend found a place to stay, and Beppe ducked in after him. The muffled stillness in the small cranny was so strange compared to the thundering rain outside, the air so warm and heavy. The worried knot inside of him remained, and so he sat silently for now. He was sure there was no way to subdue the spirits that were jumping from world to world; all they could really do was wait out the storm.
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on the side of the ghost and the King
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