Werewolves (RP 6): Echoes from the Past (04/14-10/15)
Quote from Indy on August 21, 2018, 7:04 pmIndy
Theo couldn' look away as he watched Toby don himself a thick fur coat and hat. He knew he should offer his new friend some assistance, but somehow those words died in his throat as he watched the furs swallow Toby up alive. He was rather horrific, actually. As it was, Theo was beginning to sweat indoors and could scarcely imagine what it might be like inside the belly of those furs.
Oh! What if Toby was cold. He himself had a fever for a good week after his injury. But Toby's had been much worse; the poor boy probably felt like he was stranded in the tundra. Theo nodded knowingly at Toby, cueing the fur-eaten boy that he knew his problem, and retrieved a thick blanket off of his bed. He folded it quickly and tossed it over his shoulder, ignoring the evident heat he suddenly felt. If Toby were to suddenly get cold on their journey, Theo would be very prepared indeed!
Pleased with himself, he nodded again to Toby.
"Okay, let's go. We can go slow if you need to. And if you can't walk anymore, I can probably carry you."
Theo stumbled this last line a little flushed, not entirely sure how it would be received by Toby. He stumbled through this bit of awkwardness by tripping over his own feet and opening the door. He motioned for Toby to follow with a brief incline of his head. They were ready to go.
---
As Cherise busied herself with what was likely to be an exciting family reunion, a lone stranger stirred at the corner of the antique shop. He was well-dressed young man, with a blue collared shirt, clean jeans and a shaven face. But if one were to take more than a second to observe him, there seemed something just the slightest bit odd. Whether it was his methodical movements, the long, wrapped staff that was strapped to his backpack, or the subtle smell he carried, he was lucky to have made it this far into the shop without arising too much suspicion.
He had not been in the store long, and had in fact walked in not two minutes before Cherise. His hands were quickly investigating an old vase; his eyes, however, subtly glanced towards the entryway as the young woman made a move to enter. As she did, the "customer" replaced the old vase on the shelf and retrieved a journal from his bag. He began to write.
Indy
Theo couldn' look away as he watched Toby don himself a thick fur coat and hat. He knew he should offer his new friend some assistance, but somehow those words died in his throat as he watched the furs swallow Toby up alive. He was rather horrific, actually. As it was, Theo was beginning to sweat indoors and could scarcely imagine what it might be like inside the belly of those furs.
Oh! What if Toby was cold. He himself had a fever for a good week after his injury. But Toby's had been much worse; the poor boy probably felt like he was stranded in the tundra. Theo nodded knowingly at Toby, cueing the fur-eaten boy that he knew his problem, and retrieved a thick blanket off of his bed. He folded it quickly and tossed it over his shoulder, ignoring the evident heat he suddenly felt. If Toby were to suddenly get cold on their journey, Theo would be very prepared indeed!
Pleased with himself, he nodded again to Toby.
"Okay, let's go. We can go slow if you need to. And if you can't walk anymore, I can probably carry you."
Theo stumbled this last line a little flushed, not entirely sure how it would be received by Toby. He stumbled through this bit of awkwardness by tripping over his own feet and opening the door. He motioned for Toby to follow with a brief incline of his head. They were ready to go.
---
As Cherise busied herself with what was likely to be an exciting family reunion, a lone stranger stirred at the corner of the antique shop. He was well-dressed young man, with a blue collared shirt, clean jeans and a shaven face. But if one were to take more than a second to observe him, there seemed something just the slightest bit odd. Whether it was his methodical movements, the long, wrapped staff that was strapped to his backpack, or the subtle smell he carried, he was lucky to have made it this far into the shop without arising too much suspicion.
He had not been in the store long, and had in fact walked in not two minutes before Cherise. His hands were quickly investigating an old vase; his eyes, however, subtly glanced towards the entryway as the young woman made a move to enter. As she did, the "customer" replaced the old vase on the shelf and retrieved a journal from his bag. He began to write.
Quote from Indy on August 21, 2018, 7:05 pmCat:
From amid a sea of fur that tickled his nose, Toby watched as Theo retrieved a blanket and toss it over his shoulder. For a moment, he wondered at what purpose Theo might have for such an article in the woods; perhaps he was planning a picnic? As Toby hobbled toward his new friend, Theo spoke of carrying him as probability. Is that what he wanted the blanket for?
Toby considered how incredibly uncomfortable and painful it would be to be wrapped up in a blanket-made sack and carried over someone's shoulder, but he smiled, knowing Theo only had the best intentions.
I'm sure it won't come to that. he said happily, hobbling after his friend.
**********************
Tink-tink-tink!
The tiny brass bell sung at the opening of the door, welcoming the curious young visitors into the antique shop. Upon stepping through the door, the complicated aroma of old wood, old lady, and old items from all over the world enveloped one's sense of smell. Unlike many an antique shop before it, this one was hardly well organized. It was crammed full of artifacts all the way to ceiling. What couldn't hang from the ceiling or rest on a shelf, stood strewn upon the floor.
The whole building seemed lit solely by the large window next to the door, leaving the items up front visible, but the view of all else rather dim. Tight pathways wound through the jungle of strange treasures, and the further back one went, the darker their surroundings became. Amid the piles of curios, one could vaguely spy a staircase at the back of the room, probably leading up to a personal home or living area- But all this was secondary.
The most prominent and noticeable factor was the fat old lady who sat behind a desk some paces from the door. Her white hair was rolled up in a bun and held with Chinese hair sticks. She had a pink shawl draped across her shoulders and a tiny pair of spectacles resting on the bridge of her large, round nose. One of her hands gripped the hook of her cane, while the other softly patted the top of the first in rhythmic harmony with the ticking of the antique clocks, each standing or hanging behind her. She stared on directly, a light smile in between her chubby cheeks. Other then glancing at the young lady who had just walked in, she gave her no welcome or even acknowledgment, same as with the young man who had walked in earlier.
Cat:
From amid a sea of fur that tickled his nose, Toby watched as Theo retrieved a blanket and toss it over his shoulder. For a moment, he wondered at what purpose Theo might have for such an article in the woods; perhaps he was planning a picnic? As Toby hobbled toward his new friend, Theo spoke of carrying him as probability. Is that what he wanted the blanket for?
Toby considered how incredibly uncomfortable and painful it would be to be wrapped up in a blanket-made sack and carried over someone's shoulder, but he smiled, knowing Theo only had the best intentions.
I'm sure it won't come to that. he said happily, hobbling after his friend.
**********************
Tink-tink-tink!
The tiny brass bell sung at the opening of the door, welcoming the curious young visitors into the antique shop. Upon stepping through the door, the complicated aroma of old wood, old lady, and old items from all over the world enveloped one's sense of smell. Unlike many an antique shop before it, this one was hardly well organized. It was crammed full of artifacts all the way to ceiling. What couldn't hang from the ceiling or rest on a shelf, stood strewn upon the floor.
The whole building seemed lit solely by the large window next to the door, leaving the items up front visible, but the view of all else rather dim. Tight pathways wound through the jungle of strange treasures, and the further back one went, the darker their surroundings became. Amid the piles of curios, one could vaguely spy a staircase at the back of the room, probably leading up to a personal home or living area- But all this was secondary.
The most prominent and noticeable factor was the fat old lady who sat behind a desk some paces from the door. Her white hair was rolled up in a bun and held with Chinese hair sticks. She had a pink shawl draped across her shoulders and a tiny pair of spectacles resting on the bridge of her large, round nose. One of her hands gripped the hook of her cane, while the other softly patted the top of the first in rhythmic harmony with the ticking of the antique clocks, each standing or hanging behind her. She stared on directly, a light smile in between her chubby cheeks. Other then glancing at the young lady who had just walked in, she gave her no welcome or even acknowledgment, same as with the young man who had walked in earlier.
Quote from Indy on August 21, 2018, 7:05 pmKim
Upon entering the shop, Cherise immediately winced in shock as so many different smells enveloped her nose at once. Turning her head to the side, she breathed out sharply with her fists clenched. It was all she could do to keep from throwing her hands up to cover her nose. She had only a moment to recover from this shock, when her eyes fell to gaze in wonder at her surroundings. Each trinket looked like an old lost treasure from a far way land. Many a thing she had not laid eyes on before, awoke the inner artist.
As she looked in amazement at one artifact to another, Cherise suddenly became aware of the other person in the far corner of the shop. Because of the foreign smells, she could not determine him as being anything other then what her eyes could detect. The young man was odd, however, and Cherise took note of this, but decided it best to avoid eye contact and she turned her attention to the elder lady behind the desk. "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Buttermilk?" she asked with a soft smile as she walked up to her.
Kim
Upon entering the shop, Cherise immediately winced in shock as so many different smells enveloped her nose at once. Turning her head to the side, she breathed out sharply with her fists clenched. It was all she could do to keep from throwing her hands up to cover her nose. She had only a moment to recover from this shock, when her eyes fell to gaze in wonder at her surroundings. Each trinket looked like an old lost treasure from a far way land. Many a thing she had not laid eyes on before, awoke the inner artist.
As she looked in amazement at one artifact to another, Cherise suddenly became aware of the other person in the far corner of the shop. Because of the foreign smells, she could not determine him as being anything other then what her eyes could detect. The young man was odd, however, and Cherise took note of this, but decided it best to avoid eye contact and she turned her attention to the elder lady behind the desk. "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Buttermilk?" she asked with a soft smile as she walked up to her.
Quote from Indy on August 21, 2018, 7:05 pmCat
The old lady smiled broadly at the young lady as she approached. Her hand continued in it's rhythmic tapping, keeping in perfect time with the clocks and seemingly undaunted by the it's owner's attention being placed elsewhere. This lady had obviously spent a very long time in here listening to those clocks.
I am. How may I help you today Deary? She asked, her voice kinda squeaky due to old age, but actually quite pleasant to the ears. Her fatty cheeks pushed upward on the bottoms of her eyes, making her an almost adorable.
Kim:
Cherise could not help but feel better relaxed and even smile more at Mrs. Buttermilk. The elder lady seemed a nice woman. At the back of her mind, Cherise hoped this woman really was her grandmother. "Um.. I'm Cherise Johnson, my mother is Jessica Johnson. I have reason to believe that my father is Scott Buttermilk. I was hoping maybe you could help me be sure of this?" she asked timidly.
Cherise's hope could not have gotten higher. She would absolutely have no other leads if this was a dead end, maybe even give up all hope of ever finding her father."
Cat
The old lady smiled broadly at the young lady as she approached. Her hand continued in it's rhythmic tapping, keeping in perfect time with the clocks and seemingly undaunted by the it's owner's attention being placed elsewhere. This lady had obviously spent a very long time in here listening to those clocks.
I am. How may I help you today Deary? She asked, her voice kinda squeaky due to old age, but actually quite pleasant to the ears. Her fatty cheeks pushed upward on the bottoms of her eyes, making her an almost adorable.
Kim:
Cherise could not help but feel better relaxed and even smile more at Mrs. Buttermilk. The elder lady seemed a nice woman. At the back of her mind, Cherise hoped this woman really was her grandmother. "Um.. I'm Cherise Johnson, my mother is Jessica Johnson. I have reason to believe that my father is Scott Buttermilk. I was hoping maybe you could help me be sure of this?" she asked timidly.
Cherise's hope could not have gotten higher. She would absolutely have no other leads if this was a dead end, maybe even give up all hope of ever finding her father."
Quote from Indy on August 21, 2018, 7:06 pmAim
Turning her head, Chime noticed Ulric, excused herself, and began walking over. She also noticed that Logan was close by. She shied slightly to the side that the bigger female wasn't on, quickly rehearsing what she planned to say. She briefly wondered if she would enjoy this.. this whole messaging thing. Well, at least everyone she needed to talk to was in the area, she hadn't known where Ulric was before.. unless he was here all day? Mentally shrugging, she came to a stop, "Alpha Kratos would like you to go find him." She had said it, then thought it might sound a bit weird, oh gosh, she quickly tried to explain, "Ah, not that he's playing hide'n'seek or anything, I mean, erm, I think he just wants to talk about something. I mean, I guess he could be playing hide'n'seek, just... it doesn't.. yeah."
Aim
Turning her head, Chime noticed Ulric, excused herself, and began walking over. She also noticed that Logan was close by. She shied slightly to the side that the bigger female wasn't on, quickly rehearsing what she planned to say. She briefly wondered if she would enjoy this.. this whole messaging thing. Well, at least everyone she needed to talk to was in the area, she hadn't known where Ulric was before.. unless he was here all day? Mentally shrugging, she came to a stop, "Alpha Kratos would like you to go find him." She had said it, then thought it might sound a bit weird, oh gosh, she quickly tried to explain, "Ah, not that he's playing hide'n'seek or anything, I mean, erm, I think he just wants to talk about something. I mean, I guess he could be playing hide'n'seek, just... it doesn't.. yeah."
Quote from Indy on August 21, 2018, 7:06 pmDeseree
The young female Logan had dubbed "Little Sheep", for her quiet and more soft spoken nature, approached and began speaking to Ulric, and the raven haired female observed this unmoving and silent.. the young girl seemed to stumble over her words and confuse herself. Logan, bemused at first, smirked a bit at the visual that Chime's choppy explanation placed briefly in her head.
However, if Chime was like a small sheep, Logan knew she herself was like a big bull and she was not blind to the discomfort the Little Sheep carried in her presence. Gently patting Ulric twice on the shoulder to signal her leaving, she turned and planned her path past the barn and to the furthest horse corral. Certainly on a property this big, there was damage or just places that hadn't been tended to in some time.. and what with the rag tag group of theirs in place of true farm hands, even if it had been done already, Logan didn't expect it to be done completely right. And so she would begin to make an evaluation and a mental list of tasks that would need accomplished to assure the quality of the ranch.
Her intentions however were not merely based on sheer boredom or willingness to work, but there were debts from the nights past that still weighed heavy on her shoulders and pressed upon her mind. Perhaps all of the work on the Chandler Ranch would not suffice to clear her soul of those weights..
---
The little red vehicle pulled to a stop somewhere within the heart of Reknab bend. Bianca inched over to the side, where she parked the moped and gave it a little pat, "Good job little guy! Alright, now to find some lunch to eat, and maybe someone to talk to before I go mad." she lifted up the seat of her moped and pulled out a small leather bag, slipping the strap over her head and across her body.
Standing straight and tall, Bianca quietly considered the small town around her.. it was certainly nothing like Middlecrest at all; even if you didn't know where you wanted to go in Middlecrest, there was a place to go anyway. Here it was.. well, the options were very limited. Thinking into the hypothetical future, Bianca resolved that it would take some getting used to. The quiet of it wasn't uwelcomed, however. Yet she did hope that there were people, particularly in her age group, though she was willing to meet anybody so long as they were willing to meet her.
First thing first. it was time to find something to eat. Or even just a place where she could sit down and have a cup of tea or coffee would be nice. She began to walk, her eyes examining the different door fronts, and at the same time she would keep watch for another soul who would perhaps be willing to point her in the right direction.
Deseree
The young female Logan had dubbed "Little Sheep", for her quiet and more soft spoken nature, approached and began speaking to Ulric, and the raven haired female observed this unmoving and silent.. the young girl seemed to stumble over her words and confuse herself. Logan, bemused at first, smirked a bit at the visual that Chime's choppy explanation placed briefly in her head.
However, if Chime was like a small sheep, Logan knew she herself was like a big bull and she was not blind to the discomfort the Little Sheep carried in her presence. Gently patting Ulric twice on the shoulder to signal her leaving, she turned and planned her path past the barn and to the furthest horse corral. Certainly on a property this big, there was damage or just places that hadn't been tended to in some time.. and what with the rag tag group of theirs in place of true farm hands, even if it had been done already, Logan didn't expect it to be done completely right. And so she would begin to make an evaluation and a mental list of tasks that would need accomplished to assure the quality of the ranch.
Her intentions however were not merely based on sheer boredom or willingness to work, but there were debts from the nights past that still weighed heavy on her shoulders and pressed upon her mind. Perhaps all of the work on the Chandler Ranch would not suffice to clear her soul of those weights..
---
The little red vehicle pulled to a stop somewhere within the heart of Reknab bend. Bianca inched over to the side, where she parked the moped and gave it a little pat, "Good job little guy! Alright, now to find some lunch to eat, and maybe someone to talk to before I go mad." she lifted up the seat of her moped and pulled out a small leather bag, slipping the strap over her head and across her body.
Standing straight and tall, Bianca quietly considered the small town around her.. it was certainly nothing like Middlecrest at all; even if you didn't know where you wanted to go in Middlecrest, there was a place to go anyway. Here it was.. well, the options were very limited. Thinking into the hypothetical future, Bianca resolved that it would take some getting used to. The quiet of it wasn't uwelcomed, however. Yet she did hope that there were people, particularly in her age group, though she was willing to meet anybody so long as they were willing to meet her.
First thing first. it was time to find something to eat. Or even just a place where she could sit down and have a cup of tea or coffee would be nice. She began to walk, her eyes examining the different door fronts, and at the same time she would keep watch for another soul who would perhaps be willing to point her in the right direction.
Quote from Indy on August 21, 2018, 7:28 pmIndy
Long after Kratos had left, Jackie considered her apple half. She did not taste what was undoubtedly a splendid treat, nor did she even wipe her palms of the sticky juice. Rather, it seemed she saw something inside it and was desperately trying to see what it was. She curled her lips and tried to shake away that foggy sight, but the ghosts would not budge.
"Little wolf," she murmured to the apple," You really know how to find yourself trouble"
----
The alley was as safe as any other. There was only a lone man under the shade of the light across the street, but he would pose her no danger. He hadn't moved since she had first spotted him. His arms were lax at his side and he seemed perfectly at ease, sitting cross-legged on the frozen pavement and ignorant of the blinding cold that assaulted his light jacket. How long the man had stayed was anyone's guess, but there was something in his calm the thirteen year old girl almost envied. How could anyone stay so still when the world was so cold? Her lips filled with half a word, as if trying to call out in the dark and ask.
She bit her lip at the last moment and the courage left her. It didn't matter. The alley was safe and no one would mind if a small girl stopped there to catch her breath in the middle of the night. Whatever the man might have said would not change anything. She gulped in the air hungrily, each breath making the world firmer underfoot. As her breath slowed to the quietness of a whisper, she withdrew a small prize from her jacket and examined it.
By a combination of wariness and curiosity, she glanced once more at the man. As before, he hadn't moved. Was he waiting for something, she wondered briefly, or was he insane? Yet she thought even a madman would know better than to sit in the cold. There must some reason, therefore, that possessed him to do as such.
She drove the thoughts from her mind with a firm jolt. Contemplating the life of a stranger wouldn't help either. She had learned many things in her months on the street and that was this; if you ‘found' food, you didn't take long to eat it. And if you found yourself a safe spot, don't stay in it too long before that status changed. Taking heed of the advice, she unwrapped the tarte-tatin. It may have even been delicious if it hadn’t spent the last day or so in a garbage bin, and before that growing stale on some baker’s storefront. She ate it so quickly that she barely tasted the apples.
Halfway through the loaf, she heard a sound. It was subtle, so quiet she might have mistook it for her imagination. But perhaps it was the quality of the sound or else her cautious nature that turned her eyes up. Without knowing the reason why, she looked to the man under the streetlight for the answer.
The man's head shifted, ever so slightly, so his eyes seemed to focus on her. He blinked. And there, by his feet, there seemed to be a rock that had been kicked. She considered the scene several times, trying to reason that this was all her imagination or else meant nothing. Yet she could stop the cold feeling that ran down her spine. It was a warning--but one that came too late.
"Qu’est-ce c’est?" an adolescent boy crept from the corner the alley she had not investigated, his teeth almost as garbled as his words, « Vous l’avez apporté pour moi? »
« Allez vous faire foutre! » she snarled, inhaling the last crumbs.
She had been stupid to linger, stupid to consider a man under a light when monsters roamed the shadows. It was all she could do but to hold on to her prize tightly under her jacket.
« Ahhh être gentille petite fille. Tu es un petite agneau, c’est vrai. Les loupes mangent les petites agneau, non? »
« Ahh c’est tragique, pauvre petite agneau. Elle est perdue ! Où est son ancien troupeau? Est-ce qu’ils sont révolu? Mort? » he cried, eerily clear in his harsh tones. There, at the back of the alley, shadows were approaching. Their teeth were the only form seen, a sharp glint. The child did not shriek in fear, nor did she run; the time for running had ended some time ago. They had encircled her; four of them now. Her eyes wandered once more to the man under the light; was he watching with cold pity, or was that a trick of the light?
"Go AWAY" she snarled. It was English she spoke now. There was a comfort in her native language; like it was hers alone and the street thugs could not have it.
"Ah, English sheep," the lead cried in delight, "But all sheep taste the same"
"I'm not a sheep," the girl's voice was trembling, but there was something else in it too that might have been called courage, "I'm a wolf"
She remembered vaguely raising her fists, kicking, snarling, and biting. The boys seemed to multiply around her so there was no longer four but twenty, all of them attacking her but not a mark to be felt on her skin. The world was growing darker; she didn't remember when it had begun, but once she noticed it she was on her back and the stars were running in circles.
« La petite agneau… oh elle est finie »
'No she's not, no she's not'
Flop. Stumble. It felt like she was walking, but it was hard to tell. She suspected there was pain to be felt too, but her body was still a numb buzz. She weakly raised her fists, only to hear hooting laughter.
'You won't be laughing for long,' she meant to say aloud, but her lips forgot to work so that thought stayed in her head. But it didn't matter, so long as her hands still worked.
A boy extended a foot and she felt air take her. She was on her back again. She waited for the laughter, but none came. They had gone dead quiet. She heard a shift, the scratch of many feet on pavement. A moment later, she heard distant cries. They were gone now.
As she blinked away the stars from her eyes, she saw the man again. He wasn't under the streetlight anymore. The man was in front of her, his head staring down at her from the stars. His eyes were ice blue and she stared at them for a moment, considering their color. Then, at last, she noticed his extended hand. She raised her tiny palm into his.
"Come my little wolf. Let me give you something better to eat than those stupid sheep"
---
A bird cried and the little girl's struggles evaporated like fog in the light. Jackie once more found herself in the orchard, her hands tightly grasping the apple and her eyes peering deeply into it. She glanced away with a weary sigh; the ghosts that had taken her to a faraway place were gone.
"Another time perhaps," she told the apple with airy confidence, placing it delicately on a stone.
For now, this treasure would be enjoyed by the birds, the worms, and the snails. Jackie smiled briefly at the thought as she began her journey down the path. Her footsteps lingered at the fork that led to the ranch, hesitating, before at last settling on the path that led deeper into the woods. There was a leisure in her pace; it was time to enjoy the day while there was still light to enjoy it with.
Indy
Long after Kratos had left, Jackie considered her apple half. She did not taste what was undoubtedly a splendid treat, nor did she even wipe her palms of the sticky juice. Rather, it seemed she saw something inside it and was desperately trying to see what it was. She curled her lips and tried to shake away that foggy sight, but the ghosts would not budge.
"Little wolf," she murmured to the apple," You really know how to find yourself trouble"
----
The alley was as safe as any other. There was only a lone man under the shade of the light across the street, but he would pose her no danger. He hadn't moved since she had first spotted him. His arms were lax at his side and he seemed perfectly at ease, sitting cross-legged on the frozen pavement and ignorant of the blinding cold that assaulted his light jacket. How long the man had stayed was anyone's guess, but there was something in his calm the thirteen year old girl almost envied. How could anyone stay so still when the world was so cold? Her lips filled with half a word, as if trying to call out in the dark and ask.
She bit her lip at the last moment and the courage left her. It didn't matter. The alley was safe and no one would mind if a small girl stopped there to catch her breath in the middle of the night. Whatever the man might have said would not change anything. She gulped in the air hungrily, each breath making the world firmer underfoot. As her breath slowed to the quietness of a whisper, she withdrew a small prize from her jacket and examined it.
By a combination of wariness and curiosity, she glanced once more at the man. As before, he hadn't moved. Was he waiting for something, she wondered briefly, or was he insane? Yet she thought even a madman would know better than to sit in the cold. There must some reason, therefore, that possessed him to do as such.
She drove the thoughts from her mind with a firm jolt. Contemplating the life of a stranger wouldn't help either. She had learned many things in her months on the street and that was this; if you ‘found' food, you didn't take long to eat it. And if you found yourself a safe spot, don't stay in it too long before that status changed. Taking heed of the advice, she unwrapped the tarte-tatin. It may have even been delicious if it hadn’t spent the last day or so in a garbage bin, and before that growing stale on some baker’s storefront. She ate it so quickly that she barely tasted the apples.
Halfway through the loaf, she heard a sound. It was subtle, so quiet she might have mistook it for her imagination. But perhaps it was the quality of the sound or else her cautious nature that turned her eyes up. Without knowing the reason why, she looked to the man under the streetlight for the answer.
The man's head shifted, ever so slightly, so his eyes seemed to focus on her. He blinked. And there, by his feet, there seemed to be a rock that had been kicked. She considered the scene several times, trying to reason that this was all her imagination or else meant nothing. Yet she could stop the cold feeling that ran down her spine. It was a warning--but one that came too late.
"Qu’est-ce c’est?" an adolescent boy crept from the corner the alley she had not investigated, his teeth almost as garbled as his words, « Vous l’avez apporté pour moi? »
« Allez vous faire foutre! » she snarled, inhaling the last crumbs.
She had been stupid to linger, stupid to consider a man under a light when monsters roamed the shadows. It was all she could do but to hold on to her prize tightly under her jacket.
« Ahhh être gentille petite fille. Tu es un petite agneau, c’est vrai. Les loupes mangent les petites agneau, non? »
« Ahh c’est tragique, pauvre petite agneau. Elle est perdue ! Où est son ancien troupeau? Est-ce qu’ils sont révolu? Mort? » he cried, eerily clear in his harsh tones. There, at the back of the alley, shadows were approaching. Their teeth were the only form seen, a sharp glint. The child did not shriek in fear, nor did she run; the time for running had ended some time ago. They had encircled her; four of them now. Her eyes wandered once more to the man under the light; was he watching with cold pity, or was that a trick of the light?
"Go AWAY" she snarled. It was English she spoke now. There was a comfort in her native language; like it was hers alone and the street thugs could not have it.
"Ah, English sheep," the lead cried in delight, "But all sheep taste the same"
"I'm not a sheep," the girl's voice was trembling, but there was something else in it too that might have been called courage, "I'm a wolf"
She remembered vaguely raising her fists, kicking, snarling, and biting. The boys seemed to multiply around her so there was no longer four but twenty, all of them attacking her but not a mark to be felt on her skin. The world was growing darker; she didn't remember when it had begun, but once she noticed it she was on her back and the stars were running in circles.
« La petite agneau… oh elle est finie »
'No she's not, no she's not'
Flop. Stumble. It felt like she was walking, but it was hard to tell. She suspected there was pain to be felt too, but her body was still a numb buzz. She weakly raised her fists, only to hear hooting laughter.
'You won't be laughing for long,' she meant to say aloud, but her lips forgot to work so that thought stayed in her head. But it didn't matter, so long as her hands still worked.
A boy extended a foot and she felt air take her. She was on her back again. She waited for the laughter, but none came. They had gone dead quiet. She heard a shift, the scratch of many feet on pavement. A moment later, she heard distant cries. They were gone now.
As she blinked away the stars from her eyes, she saw the man again. He wasn't under the streetlight anymore. The man was in front of her, his head staring down at her from the stars. His eyes were ice blue and she stared at them for a moment, considering their color. Then, at last, she noticed his extended hand. She raised her tiny palm into his.
"Come my little wolf. Let me give you something better to eat than those stupid sheep"
---
A bird cried and the little girl's struggles evaporated like fog in the light. Jackie once more found herself in the orchard, her hands tightly grasping the apple and her eyes peering deeply into it. She glanced away with a weary sigh; the ghosts that had taken her to a faraway place were gone.
"Another time perhaps," she told the apple with airy confidence, placing it delicately on a stone.
For now, this treasure would be enjoyed by the birds, the worms, and the snails. Jackie smiled briefly at the thought as she began her journey down the path. Her footsteps lingered at the fork that led to the ranch, hesitating, before at last settling on the path that led deeper into the woods. There was a leisure in her pace; it was time to enjoy the day while there was still light to enjoy it with.
Quote from Indy on August 21, 2018, 7:36 pmIndy
"Oh. Err. Alright," Theo felt a wave of color take his face and he looked to the ground as if he were ashamed of something.
He was doing this all wrong, wasn't he? It reminded when he was little and he had gone to help his mother pick the blackberries by the side of the creek; yet no matter how hard he tried, she seemed more annoyed by his help then pleased. That had been the way of his birth pack; members were prone to stubborn independence and all help was forcefully pushed aside. But Toby looked nice enough. Certainly not prone to fits of rash anger. All the same, he didn't want to invoke any buried anger or resentment in his new friend!
Watching Toby's eyes, he noticed his gaze had lingered on the blanket. He tried to read his opinion on it, only to find he was ill equipped to identify Toby's thoughts. Maybe he liked the idea? Maybe? Or was he trying hard to hide that annoyance?
'Well, it can't do any harm to take it anyways'' Theo thought slowly.
"Well alright, let's go!"
The adolescent just began to make headway to the door, only to stop suddenly to see if Toby had moved. He waited for his friend to proceed patiently-- until some thought struck him as suddenly as a cold bucket of water.
"Waitwaitwait, hold on," he cried, waving his hands in front of the door, afraid Toby might rush the door at that very instant,"I almost forgot something. Stay put!"
Theo nearly stumbled over his feet as he ran through the hall and up into his bedroom. After violently searching a messy desk and ripping aside a debris of clothing that had accumulated itself under his bed, his hands at settled across a small black backpack. He picked it up tenderly, as if whatever it contained might be fragile, then hurried down the stairs very quickly, perhaps worried Toby might have darted out the door already with his cheetah-like speed.
When Theo returned to Toby a few minutes later, he was breathing heavily and the backpack was already worn over one shoulder.
"O-okay," Theo panted,"W-we can go now, if you're ready"
---
In what was likely to be a very climatic moment for young Cherise, the stranger in the back room interrupted it. He hadn't meant to; in fact, the young man had seemed quite engaged in whatever he was writing in his journal. But that was just the problem! So caught up was he in that journal, the young man hadn't kept a good tab on all the wrapped staff. As he abruptly turned, the staff made a sharp impact.
Womp. Shakeshake shaaakee... CRASH!
An ornate vase crashed to the ground and shattered in a thousand pieces. Horrified the man froze, starred at the vase like it had been the one that had committed the crime.
"S-ssorry," he mumbled weakly from his hiding spot, sinking lower until he could barely be seen. His footsteps could be heard slinking away quietly; by the sound of it, it seemed he was in a hurry to get to the door before his crime could be processed.
Indy
"Oh. Err. Alright," Theo felt a wave of color take his face and he looked to the ground as if he were ashamed of something.
He was doing this all wrong, wasn't he? It reminded when he was little and he had gone to help his mother pick the blackberries by the side of the creek; yet no matter how hard he tried, she seemed more annoyed by his help then pleased. That had been the way of his birth pack; members were prone to stubborn independence and all help was forcefully pushed aside. But Toby looked nice enough. Certainly not prone to fits of rash anger. All the same, he didn't want to invoke any buried anger or resentment in his new friend!
Watching Toby's eyes, he noticed his gaze had lingered on the blanket. He tried to read his opinion on it, only to find he was ill equipped to identify Toby's thoughts. Maybe he liked the idea? Maybe? Or was he trying hard to hide that annoyance?
'Well, it can't do any harm to take it anyways'' Theo thought slowly.
"Well alright, let's go!"
The adolescent just began to make headway to the door, only to stop suddenly to see if Toby had moved. He waited for his friend to proceed patiently-- until some thought struck him as suddenly as a cold bucket of water.
"Waitwaitwait, hold on," he cried, waving his hands in front of the door, afraid Toby might rush the door at that very instant,"I almost forgot something. Stay put!"
Theo nearly stumbled over his feet as he ran through the hall and up into his bedroom. After violently searching a messy desk and ripping aside a debris of clothing that had accumulated itself under his bed, his hands at settled across a small black backpack. He picked it up tenderly, as if whatever it contained might be fragile, then hurried down the stairs very quickly, perhaps worried Toby might have darted out the door already with his cheetah-like speed.
When Theo returned to Toby a few minutes later, he was breathing heavily and the backpack was already worn over one shoulder.
"O-okay," Theo panted,"W-we can go now, if you're ready"
---
In what was likely to be a very climatic moment for young Cherise, the stranger in the back room interrupted it. He hadn't meant to; in fact, the young man had seemed quite engaged in whatever he was writing in his journal. But that was just the problem! So caught up was he in that journal, the young man hadn't kept a good tab on all the wrapped staff. As he abruptly turned, the staff made a sharp impact.
Womp. Shakeshake shaaakee... CRASH!
An ornate vase crashed to the ground and shattered in a thousand pieces. Horrified the man froze, starred at the vase like it had been the one that had committed the crime.
"S-ssorry," he mumbled weakly from his hiding spot, sinking lower until he could barely be seen. His footsteps could be heard slinking away quietly; by the sound of it, it seemed he was in a hurry to get to the door before his crime could be processed.
Quote from Indy on August 21, 2018, 7:36 pmDeseree
Making her way to the fences, Logan was content with the idea of spending this day working around the ranch, but stopped suddenly when the breeze carried a scent past her, which she immediately recognized as Jackie's.
Grudges were not typical of Logan. Slowly she had come to terms with the creatures that drove her away from her home. She had already pledged not to dwell on the scars on her body or who had caused them.. yet there were events that had transpired only a short while ago, that for the most part still went unknown to most of the pack, which left deep ravines of unrest within Logan's mind.
With cold countenance she cast her glance backwards towards the scent, just in time to see Jackie's figure vanish on the path into the forest. The woman tensed but otherwise, she had no plans to follow. What would her grandfather say? Certainly he would give Jackie the benefit of the doubt, for the same ravines of unrest could have just as well settled in the mind of the fiery haired woman.
Logan reached a hand into her pocket, seeking out the touch of a familiar piece of worn film, the image of her grandfather, which it was typical of her to look upon when she sought counsel.. but there was an emptiness in her pocket, and then she checked the others before it dawned on her like the sky had fallen; she had entrusted Jackie with the image before the last full moon!
Now she turned in the direction Jackie had gone with slight hesitation. It was like the same pole of two magnets trying to come together, but Logan pushed the feeling aside and began towards Ms. Ryder. It was a simple intention; she wanted to retrieve something that belonged to her, but then again, nothing was smile when it involved Jacqueline. With some luck, the raven haired female hoped that the pack mate had forgotten about the image the same as she had..
Not wanting to invite the attention of other parties, Logan sought to meet Jackie in a roundabout way, cutting through the back of the ranch and then entering the forest, following Ryders scent from there. With a steady stride, it would not take her long to come into near proximity of the woman, though she could not see her directly. "Jackie," she called, firmly but calmly. "I know you are here, I only have question for you.."
Deseree
Making her way to the fences, Logan was content with the idea of spending this day working around the ranch, but stopped suddenly when the breeze carried a scent past her, which she immediately recognized as Jackie's.
Grudges were not typical of Logan. Slowly she had come to terms with the creatures that drove her away from her home. She had already pledged not to dwell on the scars on her body or who had caused them.. yet there were events that had transpired only a short while ago, that for the most part still went unknown to most of the pack, which left deep ravines of unrest within Logan's mind.
With cold countenance she cast her glance backwards towards the scent, just in time to see Jackie's figure vanish on the path into the forest. The woman tensed but otherwise, she had no plans to follow. What would her grandfather say? Certainly he would give Jackie the benefit of the doubt, for the same ravines of unrest could have just as well settled in the mind of the fiery haired woman.
Logan reached a hand into her pocket, seeking out the touch of a familiar piece of worn film, the image of her grandfather, which it was typical of her to look upon when she sought counsel.. but there was an emptiness in her pocket, and then she checked the others before it dawned on her like the sky had fallen; she had entrusted Jackie with the image before the last full moon!
Now she turned in the direction Jackie had gone with slight hesitation. It was like the same pole of two magnets trying to come together, but Logan pushed the feeling aside and began towards Ms. Ryder. It was a simple intention; she wanted to retrieve something that belonged to her, but then again, nothing was smile when it involved Jacqueline. With some luck, the raven haired female hoped that the pack mate had forgotten about the image the same as she had..
Not wanting to invite the attention of other parties, Logan sought to meet Jackie in a roundabout way, cutting through the back of the ranch and then entering the forest, following Ryders scent from there. With a steady stride, it would not take her long to come into near proximity of the woman, though she could not see her directly. "Jackie," she called, firmly but calmly. "I know you are here, I only have question for you.."
Quote from Indy on August 21, 2018, 7:36 pmCat
Toby was startled when Theo ran from the room, and for a moment was afraid that Theo had changed his mind. He worried that perhaps Theo hadn't really wanted Toby to come with him, and perhaps he was running to tell Kratos that Toby had gotten out of bed. What if Kratos came in and broke Toby's other leg so he couldn't get out of bed until his gunshot wounds healed?!
Just then, Theo came back in with a backpack and beckoned Toby after him again. Toby could have laughed at himself. Of course! Theo had forgotten his backpack, how silly of him to worry! No decent bloke would go anywhere without a backpack.. Silly, silly Toby.
************
Mrs. Buttermilk's face fell to a look of surprise as Cherise spoke, but was unable to respond before the sound of a crash and a faint apology irrupted from the back. The old lady winced at the thought of the priceless vase which now lay in shattered ruins somewhere unseen- Such a sudden end to something that had survived war and destruction for centuries before meeting that young fellow was unfathomable. Nevertheless, the old woman forced a cheerful smile and resumed her tapping.
That's alright, Deary. Just bring the pieces up front and pay 10.15 at the desk! she called back, chipper as a meadow lark. Looking to the young lady that stood in front of her, she smiled pleasantly.
Scotty was me first born, but I regret to say that to my knowledge, he had no pups of his own.. Though, come to think of it, I knew Jessica too... Yes... Yes! Scotty and Jessica were married at one time- But dear one, they weren't together more than a few months. Are you sure my Scotty is who your looking for? she asked. Secretly, she was studying the young lady's face for any similarities between her and 'Scotty'.. Indeed, she spied quite a few. But it was probably better for this poor thing to go about her human life and never know about the skeleton in the closet.
Cat
Toby was startled when Theo ran from the room, and for a moment was afraid that Theo had changed his mind. He worried that perhaps Theo hadn't really wanted Toby to come with him, and perhaps he was running to tell Kratos that Toby had gotten out of bed. What if Kratos came in and broke Toby's other leg so he couldn't get out of bed until his gunshot wounds healed?!
Just then, Theo came back in with a backpack and beckoned Toby after him again. Toby could have laughed at himself. Of course! Theo had forgotten his backpack, how silly of him to worry! No decent bloke would go anywhere without a backpack.. Silly, silly Toby.
************
Mrs. Buttermilk's face fell to a look of surprise as Cherise spoke, but was unable to respond before the sound of a crash and a faint apology irrupted from the back. The old lady winced at the thought of the priceless vase which now lay in shattered ruins somewhere unseen- Such a sudden end to something that had survived war and destruction for centuries before meeting that young fellow was unfathomable. Nevertheless, the old woman forced a cheerful smile and resumed her tapping.
That's alright, Deary. Just bring the pieces up front and pay 10.15 at the desk! she called back, chipper as a meadow lark. Looking to the young lady that stood in front of her, she smiled pleasantly.
Scotty was me first born, but I regret to say that to my knowledge, he had no pups of his own.. Though, come to think of it, I knew Jessica too... Yes... Yes! Scotty and Jessica were married at one time- But dear one, they weren't together more than a few months. Are you sure my Scotty is who your looking for? she asked. Secretly, she was studying the young lady's face for any similarities between her and 'Scotty'.. Indeed, she spied quite a few. But it was probably better for this poor thing to go about her human life and never know about the skeleton in the closet.
