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"Hai paura, vigliacco? Non preoccuparti, non ti faccio male!" Gotham cried, as valiantly as he could, at a shuddering white rabbit as he passed it. The boy had travelled quite a distance but hadn't worked up much of a hunger, or at least not enough of one to bother with catching a rabbit. His travels through the snow were chronicled by his pawprints, a path that went from where he now stood, through a few windy streets of Halifax, through Shiloh Hills and back to his home in Crimson Dreams. It probably wasn't a trip that his parents would have approved of, at least taken solo. He was getting older, though, and less likely to heed the worries that parents would inevitably possess. The days were getting longer, which meant, to Gotham, that he could go even further. For the time being, he stood on the edge of Phoenix Valley, wondering if it would be okay if he went in. He hadn't heard much of them, which could be interpreted as suggesting that they hadn't done anything bad enough to be noteworthy.
The boy would risk having the title of troublemaker if it meant he could travel more of the land that surrounded him. With that in mind, he had few qualms about stepping over the invisible barrier that separated the Phoenix Valley wolves from the rest of Nova Scotia. Gotham told himself that he wouldn't go too far in. Though completely unreasonable and illogical, the realization that this was Phoenix Valley and he was Gotham Phoenix made him feel slightly less like he was trespassing, and he trotted a little deeper than he might usually feel was okay. He had an extra line of defense, after all: a smart-aleck response to any adult that questioned him! Not that they ever worked for any other purpose than infuriating the adult with dumb tricks. Gotham was certainly growing out of the age where anything was cute and forgivable, too, and his belief that he was still adorable and clever would likely be an additional risk.
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sorry about the horrendous wait.  312
Rio's tiny row of pawprints lead no further from where she now stood than to the steps of the cabin she and her family occupied. She was still getting used to the idea of wandering away from the cabin without the company of her parents, and it frightened her at times. Mustering up the courage to take a little venture on her own took several minutes, just as it had this morning. But the call of the bright world outside the cracked window was too loud for her to ignore. By the time the girl was twenty feet away from the safe Haven of the cabin, she hadn't a care in the world.
Before long (or perhaps it was indeed "long"), she was further away from her home than she had been to date. The trees stood tall around her, and the scent of the Valley differed slightly. She believed she had come close to what Mama and Papa called the "borders." This notion was thrilling... she was upon the very edge of where she didn't dare go! The girl paused, realizing that she heard something. Footsteps. Silvery eyes darted to and fro, searching for the source. What if a stranger was coming, someone who would hurt her? Mama and Papa talked about meeting strange wolves at the borders sometimes. Rio's shoulders slouched and she inched forward; just as she heard a voice that spoke words she recognized.
She pivoted and saw moving toward her a boy darker than she; and he was a boy. He was larger, but not nearly as big as her father. What was most puzzling was that he'd spoken in the language she had until now believed to be unique to her family. Rio called out to him, her eyes curiously belying the fear of her shrunken stance. "Hey, why yous know how'da talk like me, Signor?"
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[html] No worries! ♥ Also, I made something for Kansas here
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It came as something of a surprise that there was someone else in front of him; for all his supposed vigilance in a strange territory, he had been particularly inattentive. This was a rather small wolf, though, and he had been on the lookout for a bigger one. From her posture, the boy could tell that she was frightened by him, and he slowed down considerably, taking only a few steps more before stopping completely and sitting down. Her fear was certainly warranted based on the difference in their sizes and the speed and power (he imagined) with which he travelled. Gotham didn't want to scare anyone, except perhaps his sisters, and so he looked at the young stranger from a few paces back. Her statement confused him, and he tipped his head curiously. It took a moment of thought before he remembered that he had spoken in Italian, and the connection suddenly intrigued him. This pup knew how to speak Italian, too?
To test this hypothesis, he said gently, "Parli l'Italiano?" If she didn't speak the language, she wouldn't respond sensically. He figured that it was the only thing she could possibly mean; of course, all wolves could talk! The language was the only thing that was out of place around there. Of course, the mystery still wouldn't be solved, and though he figured that this girl was somehow related to him, he had no clue how. There were puppies all over the place now, and many seemed to be related to the Italian wolves, but Gotham was never any good at keeping track. Anyway, he gave the girl a slight smile as if to encourage her and to suggest that he was friendly and she had nothing to fear. He wanted to make a good impression, especially because he figured they'd be seeing each other again.
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The man, or whatever age he was (she was unsure, for he seemed to be at some sort of halfway point), slowed his daunting footsteps as she fell into her fear, seating himself a nice distance away from her. The simple lessening of his size and might by sitting down did well to comfort her, and Rio's little face brightened noticeably. He didn't seem so very threatening anymore, what with the confused expression that had taken shape upon his swarthy face after she'd spoken her question. His words told her that he was just as surprised as she was. Maybe they were special somehow because they both knew this strange way of talking! Their shared talent left her feeling quite a bit more comfortable in his presence, and the small girl's body relaxed almost completely; she stopped her cowering. Her periwinkle eyes remained curious, full of amazement and wonder. This small similarity between the two of them seemed very mysterious and very important at the moment. She wanted to get to the bottom of it.
"Sì. Il mio nome è Rio, Signor," she told him. She leaned with her small snout projected forward, sniffing into his general direction, her small whip of a tail wagging at a moderate speed behind her. There was something vaguely familiar about the way he smelled. It was so faint that she wasn't one hundred percent sure her nose was working right, but the simple idea of whatever she had recognized in his scent it puzzled her even more. Apparently done smelling him, Rio dropped back on her haunches, staring at him as if this would hopefully give her some clue as to why they were connected by their tongues. "This's weird, huh? Wha's your name?" she said softly. Her tail had never ceased its wagging.
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