Isabella had thought about that man who had traded with her. Face kept still, the woman had petted the black kitten she held in her lap. The dark kitten purred softly as the woman stroked her back with gentle fingers. Antoinette tucked herself into a ball deeper and her purr slowed to a deep rumble. Isabella peered at ball of black fur and smiled serenely. She was growing into a precocious little creature and it made her happy to see the devotion in the emerald eyes of her kitten. But she had a harder time feeding the creature, though thankfully it ate meat as she did. But she knew that cats needed more than simply meat. Fish was something she knew they liked but it was not something she knew to get. The wharf made it easier to fish, but it did not aid her learning how to do it.
She rose, cradling the kitten in her arms and set her inside of the den, tucking her against the cotton covered walls. Antoinette mewed but quickly turned herself back into a ball and lapsed into sleep. Kitten taken care of, Isabella looked into the tarnished mirror she had set up over her den. She knew where she had to go and she had to try her best to keep up the pretense of innocence. But she could not let on where she was from. Salsola prided itself on secrets and lies, and Isabella was fond of both. A violet bottle found its way into her hands and she dabbed the lavender liquid all over her body with deft fingers.
She came to the nook in the wall that housed all her jewelry and bottles and set the violet one back in its place. The silver and gold trinkets caught her eye and the woman paused to gaze at the gold and red crystal bottle Sirius gave her. She touched it, but hesitated. She could not wear it for what she intended. Perhaps nothing was best. Nothing cold and beautiful. No, she had to be warm and kind today, and the presence of finery would only ruin the image. Perhaps modesty, too, would win her what she needed. She slipped on a light blue dress she had once been given, and smoothed it out. It was so modest that she could hardly believe how much more.. innocent she looked and felt. With a sigh, she knew that she could do no more than this, as anything else wold be garish, though she did crave and put on a silver anklet that jingled lightly at her feet.
What she had not really thought about was the fact the trip to the man with whom she had traded with, would be a fairly long endeavor. It would have to do and she took it easy. Well, it was still a hard trip, almost three days around Inferni and the other pack on the way to the Artists' pack. Soon enough, she smelled the borders, and sat back on her horse on the borders. Raising her pale maw to the sky, she gave her dog's howl to the pack, asking for the man to join her. Isabella dismounted the mare, smiling deliciously at herself at the thought of the charade. It was good fun for her and she hardly had a second thought about misleading Vasiliy.
Border duty was one thing Vasiliy was not very good at. He'd explored the Cercatori d'Arte packlands rather thoroughly, and the thought of tramping along the same path each day bored him to tears. So, Vasi had come up with another solution: he never walked the same way twice. Some days he started at the northern end of the lands, others the southern, still others beside the border tree. It didn't matter that these routes often made his duties last thrice as long as they might have otherwise -- Vasi enjoyed the scenery.
Today was not such a day, however. When the call came, it found Vasi sleeping in Thornbury, and it was only after Jerome nearly broke his door down that the Russian even arose. Yawning and stretching, once he'd heard that someone was howling for him, the dusky male beat a faster pace. He yanked pants up on his hips, wrapped a bandanna haphazardly around his head, and set out. No sense making his caller wait longer than they already had, after all.
His fast trot brought him to the general area Jerome had described, and it was not long until he caught a familiar scent. Isabella, come south? His heart skipped a beat, though it was not in thoughts of seeing her again: he remembered their last meeting well. He'd mucked it all up, of course, and it was a wonder she had come south for him. Scurrying toward the source of her scent, Vasi almost stopped dead in his tracks as he considered the fact that she just might be here to revenge herself for his insult?
The thought lingered, but he stepped forward all the same, slowing his pace once he caught sight of her and her horse. He trotted over nonchalantly, grinning. Sorry, he said, immediately. Napping is good for soul. Stopping a few feet from her, the hybrid stood tall and appraised her. Her pale, demure dress reminded him of the sea. Allo, Isabella.
Word Count » 318
challenge accepted hookah !! SO STOP IT
Oh, poor Atlas, the world’s a beast of a burden
Ducky shook her head tiredly and the woman stretched out her back, letting the sun hit her curves with a warming touch. Her body felt a bit more constricted in the dress as the waist did not bend the way she liked, but it was the most modest thing she had. Fingers smoothed down the pleats, and the mare bobbed her head to lip at the grass at her feat. The last stretch of the trip had been much easier and less rushed, so the two were far more rested. If only they had a boat like the Artists, then the trip would have been cut down to less than a day rather than three. She stood waiting, though, knowing that patience was a virtue she cultivate with diligence.
The mare's head shot up and she eyed the familiar stranger before returning to her grass with a wicker. Isabella smiled at the mare and let her hand slip from the warm neck to return the man's smile. She receded within herself and let her false self come to the surface like oil on water. The cunning left her eyes and was replaced with softness, something she did not much care for but knew how to play with mocking accuracy. She batted her eyes and then averted her gaze from him as he appraised her blue clad body.
"Vasiliy," she said softly, almost as though she didn't believe it. She knew he would be here but anything to aid in his image of her. "I guess you weren't lying about where you were," she said coyly, looking up to him. Isabella had hit herself for her failure during their trade but she resolved to play the role better. "You don't mind that I've come to visit?" Her words were coated with concern as her smile faltered slightly and her eyes shifted to worry.
The storm-colored wolf was convinced the mishap or miscommunication was his own fault. He didn't know English words very well, and he'd insinuated something positively awful besides. If she'd come to revenge herself for that insult, he must stand here and take whatever punishment she cared to lash out. Though his greeting was friendly and nonchalant, he was somewhat nervous as he awaited her reaction. His drooping tail evidenced this, though it might have been attributed to its somewhat awkward position due to the pants he wore.
Lying? No, no, no lie, he said, grinning. If I lie, how find Vasiliy again? He spread his arms wide and his grin spread with them. Mind? No, never, he said. His arms dropped to his side and his grin faltered. I am glad you come visit. But I worry... ah, no mind. He shrugged and his grin reappeared. He was wondering whether it was alright to let her onto the packlands -- though a brief visit might be okay, he would need to seek Skye and ask about anything longer. The granite-furred Luperci was about to ask whether she'd want to stay the night when it occurred to him how that question might be taken, and he thought better of it. You come visit just for Vasiliy? Long way. Tired? Hungry?
Isabella let a wide smile slip onto her lips as the man beamed at her. But as his smile faltered, so did hers and she cocked her head ever so slightly to the side to peer at him in concern. He was worried she was not going to find him? How could he possibly think that she would stay away when he had presented himself well and was handsome to boot. The fact he did not have women falling all over him was a shocker and she could not believe it at all. Actually, she could not believe it and she figured that he simply had to have women all over him. It made no sense otherwise. "It is good to see you," she said gently in her accented voice, letting her words taper off as though shy.
Isabella wondered how she ought to go about this and what stance to take. Should she be the innocent girl who did not know what to expect and let herself be seduced by a knowing man? That would certainly provide for a thrill as well as show her what unaware women could experience. A learning opportunity of sorts. Or she could play as an inexperienced girl who knew what she wanted but was unsure of how to get it. Of course, he could turn her away and leave her hungry at her core, but that was a risk she would run. And she decided perhaps a mix of the two would be best. But how to pull it off?
"Oh, it was long. Three days. Maybe could have been faster but I did not want to work my Ducky too much. She's the only one I've got, after all." Isabella patted the mare's neck and pulled the reins into her hands. "Today was easy, only a few hours of good walk maybe. I lost track." She swept a hand about her, gesturing around them. "It's too beautiful to ignore or to let race by, even if I was excited to come visit, " she added shyly, much more modestly than her declaration of the scenery. "I'm fine, but I came to ask for some help."
Even if he ended up in trouble -- to be sure, he didn't know it was okay to have a visitor -- it was well worth it, to Vasiliy. Just knowing he hadn't irreparably screwed up their very first meeting. It would not have been the first time. Vasi was frequently surprised at his ability to attract any kind of attention whatsoever from the opposite sex. It seemed to him women might prefer someone with a more suave tongue and better manners -- smaller hands and feet, too. But she said it was good to see him -- and the storm-hued wolf beamed with the compliment. You, too. He could still clearly recall the curve of her hip and the way she walked, all certainty and confidence.
Today, such loveliness was concealed beneath her dress -- and Vasi was glad for it. He did not wish to think of her in the ways his mind seemed to want to, and her concealment aided him in such endeavors. Aye, he agreed. It had only been a day by boat, but the boat's route was shorter by far. We have good forest here, he said, remembering the marshlands where they'd met. The only trees to be found there were scrawny things.
His ears pricked up as she described excitement -- excitement, for a visit? For him? He did not want to even hope. She continued, however, and spoke of help. Surely, that was why she was excited, not for him. The dusky hybrid stood straighter all the same. What help? I will help wherever need, he offered, pondering what he might be asked to do.
Sometimes she had to wonder who she would have been if she had not been blessed with a mother who knew the workings of the heart and a step-father who had exposed her to the world of the unscrupulous. Perhaps she would have been a shy, quiet fortune telling gypsy who dreamed of finding a loving mate for whom to bear children. Instead, here she was. This was one chance for her to experience the life she could not have but it would always be tainted by the inescapable darkness in her soul. Was it cruel of her to manipulate an innocent man, of course it was. However, it was also not her place to let her skills go wasting away in a place where everyone was wary and the interesting men were taken. In the case of Sirius, he was simply too difficult a man to ensnare in her trap and it was all she could do to match him in their game of cat and mouse.
Isabella shook away thoughts of the enigmatic, electric Boss, keeping her mind on the now where she truly had to concentrate to keep her distaste of the male ego show. It was not just Vasiliy, but others too that brought up these feelings. But she bit it down and let her smiles and laughter flow like an unstopped bottle of wine. Tugging on the reins, the woman pulled the mare with her as she approached the man with an easy posture. No reason to be stiff here, even if she was watchful and careful. "It's nothing to worry about," she said sweetly, rolling shoulders as she came close enough to see him clearly. "The cat I took home? I want to feed her with something other than the meat I catch for myself. I know they like fish, and I know that you are a boat person. Do you know how to fish?" she asked, cocking her head to the side. "I thought you might teach me?" And she had hoped for other things but that was a different story.
Though Vasiliy possessed some minor proficiency in many skills, he was master of none. The dusky-furred Russian was only good for fishing and boating, and even then, his skills paled in comparison to older Russos and the sea-farers who had carried him across the Atlantic. There were a great many more things he did not know how to do, and this meant -- in Vasiliy's mind, anyway -- he was unskilled and good for very little. Though Skye had offered praise to him and others before her, he remained unconvinced.
Her approach was one that reminded him of their last meeting. Her manner of walking had not changed a bit, and he was glad to see this. Still, he kept his eyes respectful, focused on her face. While he never quite made eye contact, he did not glance at her body more than was absolutely necessary, though he yearned to do so. She spoke about the cat, and disappointment flickered in him briefly. He knew nothing about cats, and could not help her! As she continued, however, his hopes soared upward again, and he grinned broadly.
Aaaha, he breathed. Aye, fish good for cat. And Vasiliy know how to fish. He was infinitely glad Isabella had asked something he was actually good at, so much so that it did not even strike him as odd that she'd take a three day trip just to learn fishing. Come, let us go to coast, he invited, waving his hand. Want I lead Ducky?
She simply beamed. Beamed. Her hands tightened on the reins and she gave a laugh of success as she clapped her hands together, reins muffling the noise. "Oh wonderful!" she exclaimed, suddenly aware of her over exuberance at so trivial a thing. Isabella pulled back a bit, shrugging her shoulders up tightly as though to recoil from her own excitement. She glanced around as though flustered, avoiding his glance especially with the broad smile on his face. After so much smiling, there was no way her face was going to get a chance to relax. Her lips were spread so wide she was afraid it would give her wrinkles early when the skin on her face loosened. The things she did for pleasure.
Thankfully, her assumptions had been right and Vasiliy had been a fisherman as well as a sailor. It pleased her to no end she could make such an assumption and be correct. It did nothing to temper her ego and it only helped to fan the flames of her own self-centered interests. She simply nodded at him, demure. She had to cede all control of the situation to the man, but it could not be helped. He knew the land and he knew what she needed to learn. "No, it's alright. She's temperamental and I don't think she'd like it." In reality, Ducky was skittish and nervous at times but did not hate strangers.
Pulling her arms behind her, reins tight in her fists, Isabella followed behind, chest jutting forward because of her posture. "This is definitely prettier than further north. More trees, shrubs. Very pretty. Must be happy here," she mused, eying the man carefully. "What do you do here besides sail and trade?" It was all mindless chatter but it helped to fill the air and aid her image of innocent and empty headed.
Vasiliy ambled beside her. He did not walk on top of her, but gave her enough room to freely move. Still, they were close enough that anyone who saw them would associate them together, which was his intent. The dark-furred wolf trusted Isabella would remain well-mannered within his home; she'd given no indication otherwise, after all, and Vasiliy was not a suspicious being to begin with.
His ears flicked toward her as she spoke, eyes following. They studied the curve of her torso with that particular pose but only once; his eyes henceforth remained -- forcibly -- at shoulder level. He smiled dreamily all the same and nodded. Aye. Where we meet, is not bad land, but... he shrugged, gesturing with a hand at the tall tree growth around them. There were enough worn paths through the d'Arte lands to provide easy walking for them, but outside of the packlands, the forest could be quite thick.
Hmm... I have stone house, in village, he said. Vasiliy spend much time make better. He hadn't had any visitors in his house since Hotaru -- and for good reason. It was a mess with all the things he'd done to it. With all of the moving and shuffling things about, the granite-colored wolf found his abode unsuitable for the eyes of his packmates. Only his bedroom was orderly -- and that was because it was sparse and bare-bones. He intended to keep it that way. Sleeping space required no adornment and ornate decoration, as Vasi saw it.
Spend time with pack, too, he added, thinking of Dalgina with her carvings and Levent with his cat. He liked all his fellow d'Arte members well enough, but he didn't know if he could quite refer to them as friends. Boring Vasiliy, he said, his voice a half-mutter. What you do? You have pack? He was realizing he knew little about her, and perhaps it was best to ask questions of her, too -- that way, he would not seem quite so inadequate.
He was a hard one. His glances never scanned her more than once and he never seemed to drink in her youthful lithe body. It was ridiculous the way he seemed to focus above her chest, when they (and her hips) where some of her most desirable features. Granted, her thighs may have been a bit thick and her waist was not the most narrow, but she was not a thin stick with no delicious meat on her bones. Why would he not look at her? She almost furrowed her brows and growled in frustration at his chastity and honorable intentions. How could he keep his hands off when she offered so willingly. Looking never hurt and it was always easier to reel in a man who looked with interest or hunger than one who kept his eyes honorably high.
"A house? And you're making it better?" she said softly in surprise. A handyman? Useful, but inappropriate for her current needs. She let a half grin, dark and suggestive peel across her face, careful to turn way to keep him from glancing at her thoughts. A man with hands that were strong were sure to be useful in the manners she liked. "You would make a woman very happy if you are making it beautiful. Does it have a garden?" she asked, with true sincerity. Plants were something she did like and flowers for beauty made her happy.
"Me?" she said dumbly, letting surprise color her face as she pursed her lips in thought. "Well, I like flowers. I think they're pretty, and I like the ones that smell sweet." She waved a hand over her body in a vague way, though her fingers lingered near her chest to add more emphasis to it. "I make oils too, if I find a lot. This scent is from a swamp rose. Silly name but sweet fragrance." She hoped they could avoid talking about her pack, and she avoided the question, feigning full attention on the question about what she did. "I don't think you're boring at all."
(--) Dis was one of the posts I losted. ._. Sorry if it sux real bad. D:
Vasiliy is by Raze!
I try. Vasiliy was not so good at making things pretty, but he was good at making them functional. His arts were crafts of pure function, lacking any form. Often, they were quite rudimentary -- he did not believe he possessed the skill to add ornate decor, and thus he'd always left such tasks of redecorating to other family members back in his homeland. It was the same with his home -- there was little decor as yet, and everything was plain and unadorned. Many areas were still heavily damaged from their years of disuse, as well.
He therefore avoided the subject of beauty entirely, and only smiled, hoping it was not too dim a smile. No garden, he confessed. But will come, maybe, by fall. Inside finish first. He had put in a few seeds of marijuana after clearing one patch of dirt, but otherwise saw fit to leave the yard. As it was, overgrown with wildflowers, the back of his house covered with thick vines with tiny purple flowers, it was quite alright for the moment. Smell good for you... fits you, he attempted lamely, hoping it was not too feeble a compliment. Quickly, he continued. Maybe I plant good smell things, and you come visit often? he suggested, glancing down to the earth as he said this.
Ah, watch feet, he said, pointing to a root sticking out of the ground. He stepped aside to allow her to pass in front of him and avoid the thing if she so desired, and hoped perhaps it might provide a distraction if she did not wish to answer his suggestion about visiting more often.
Oh man that is some kind of suck. :c this is my old post but i'll modify it a bit. Word Count » 346
Oh, poor Atlas, the world’s a beast of a burden
Isabella let her smile spread easily over her features like liquid over ice. She feigned modesty as best as she could by averting her gaze from the man as he complimented her. With a hand wave and a head shake, the woman let her fingers fumble through coarse hair as she gazed at Vasiliy with bi-colored eyes. "Oh thank you," she said softly, laughing a bit sheepishly as though embarrassed by his comments. She knew it was perfect for her, but her it was her forced modesty at work. Besides, she knew what would work best for her, and anything different would give alternate results. If she was trying to go for a more mature air, she would use a woody scent, heady and musky.
"Don't wait too long, Vasiliy dear," she warned gently, wagging a finger at him. "It gets cold here and the ground gets very hard. Make sure your plants are hardy or they'll freeze." Isabella did not know of this man's origins, other than his sailing tendencies and sea know-how. Her own plants were hardy native species, but her garden was a joke of a plot. It was only filled with lavender and heavy herbs of the north. It was barely a garden, just a row against her ruins with small stones for a decorative barrier.
He gave her a chance to pass in front of him, and she stepped before him to avoid the root. But she spun on the spot and faced the man again. Isabella gave a laugh, tinkling, as she touched the man's shoulder with a white hand. "Oh, don't be silly. I'll have to steal your plants, but I'll still visit you!" she said sincerely, eyes bright with her truthful lie. She returned to his side, letting him lead her to the shore. Her visits were not for the sole pleasure of his company for her own personal gain. "Come, show me how to fish, you flatterer," she chided, pulling her hand and laying it on his arm.
The wolf grinned and shrugged. Always wait for spring. He was used to the snow and cold and ice, but there were many other creatures that were ill-adapted to it -- including plants. He'd have to pull them in for the winter, to be sure. Must get buckets for plants in winter, I think, he said, thankful that Isabella had mentioned it before it was fall and Vasiliy hadn't even considered such things. Thank you, he added, not wishing to admit to her he hadn't even considered the colder weather yet.
Vasi snorted in response to her proposal of thievery. Maybe I get cat to protect, he teased. Cats made good protection against smaller pests, to be sure, but they were hardly protection against a Luperci. He'd need much bigger cat -- or perhaps a bear -- for that particular task. The noise of the bay came to the dark-tipped ears atop Vasi's head, and he perked them up, glancing toward the shore. The forest opened up some distance away, revealing a mostly sandy -- albeit pebbly -- beach. Vasi trotted a bit quicker and stopped upon reaching the true beach.
Right now is low tide, he said, pointing out the receded water line. See pools? Is good fishing there, he said. Don't even need pole or spear. I show you, he said, grinning at her. With that, he started toward the closest of the pools, picking his way down the beach with the easy trot of one comfortable with his surroundings.
mall-caps;}
