The Clearing

[Matahari Harimau]

baine bowed to Karu and left to his mate who he smiled too.
((pm me?))  

[Aricia Kylie]

Harken led the way into the clearing with his mate Kota following him. "Are you okay, Kota?" Harken asked. The gray she wolf nodded and sat down heavily. Harken padded to her side and nuzzled Kota softly. "Don't worry I'll find the safest place for you to give birth to our pups." Harken growled. Kota growled right back and laid down on her side exposing her big belly.
Just then a black she wolf tore across the clearing towards them. Harken jumped in front of his mate and snarled. Then another wolf a gray male came to join the black female. "Hey Riyu, who are these wolves?" The gray wolf asked the black wolf. "I don't know, Soto. Who are you?" She asked Harken. "I'm Harken and this my mate, Kota." Harken growled letting his neck fur lay flat. Riyu's eyes went wide with surprise when she looked at Kota. "You're expecting pups. You shouldn't be exposed like this." Riyu said with concern. Soto nodded. "My mate's right. You and Kota should come to our cave; there's plenty of room for you two and your pups if you are close to whelping, that is." Soto growled friendly. Kota looked at Harken. "I'll be having them any day now, Harken. I don't want to take any chances." Kota growled as she stood up. Harken grunted and looked at the new wolves. "Okay we will come with you."  

[- Child of Cirra -]

(( OOC : Every thread I touch DIES. DX ))
(( Please don't ignore meee. ;~; ))

Hyacinthe lay reclined on a moss-cushioned blouder, just inches away from the small fire he'd managed to build himself. His hair fanned out behind him, spilling over the rock in luscious black curls. The fire sent brilliant flashes of light flickering over the surface of his many rings and miscellaneous galb. Looming over the fire and resting lazily in his mouth was a long pipe with a pill of opium in its bowl. Blue wisps of smoke rose from the pipe and the corners of his mouth, snaking their way upward until they twisted and coiled their way out of existence.
The entire image was beautifully languid, an enigma in itself.
Hyacinthe, however, was as careless of his beauty as a spendthrift of his coin. Whatever the past few years had done to him, he'd been rendered almost wholly insensible of his own appearance.
But, by the gods, he was beautiful.
Hyacinthe lay seemingly lifeless, his eyes glazed over in a heavy-lidded dreaminess.
Intensely drugged, the Tsingani lad's mind was free to wander uncontrolled... as was the dromonde, his hereditary gift for seeing the past and future. In his native lands, it was vrajna, forbidden, for a male to use the dromonde. It was for that very reason why he was banished from his kumanpia. Once called the "Prince of Travelers", he'd used the dromonde to try and locate his kidnapped sister and, eventually, try to locate her murderer. Once this was known, he was declared anethema.
Now, subconsciously (and aided by the opium), he consulted it for the same purpose.
Every time, he always saw the same thing: A barren road. At the end, a black, shadowy aura, accompanied by the stench of blood and rotting flesh. The only way to discern whether or not Hyacinthe was getting closer to his sister's murderer was to calculate the distance between him and the aura. Since he'd arrived in the Na'arinheim, there were times he'd gotten so close, so achingly close, he thought he might double over and wretch, overcome by the sheer malevelonce of the aura... But always, it would elude Hyacinthe's efforts, and slither just out of reach once more.
He was beginning to wonder if he'd ever avenge his sister's death.
Discontent with himself, he took a long drag from his pipe, watching the small pill in its bowl smolder, flare, and crumble as he did so. Blue tendrils of smoke escaped his nose and mouth and twisted about his face. Very quickly, he felt his body weigh down like lead, and all his limbs went numb. His mind clouded over even more, flooded with scattered opium dreams.
To him, it was an intense kindness; he'd have no peaceful, untroubled thoughts otherwise.
And so he lay, in a wonderful drugged bliss, the sweet smell of opium slowly filling the air.

 

[` n e k e n e k e]

Green eyes snapped over the form in front of him, nostrils twitching madly at the sweet scent spiraling through the area. Almost certain that the being – a man? – had not seen him, he shifted backwards, inhaling slowly. The smoke tickled his nostrils and he sneezed, his shaggy hair falling in his face, obscuring his eyes as he glanced guiltily at the male before him. Another sneeze came, and shifting backwards, he stumbled and landed straight on his bottom, the wind quite thoroughly knocked out of him. Claws dug into the dirt as he propped himself back up, idly scratching the back of his head.

“Ah…”

Green eyes blinked, once, twice. A blush spread across his youthful features, and he didn’t even attempt to get up, he claws idly stirring the dirt beside him, nerves rather obvious in his entire demeanor. He was always that way though, around people he didn’t know. And, glancing at the strange male before him, his thin brow rose, his features appearing even more feminine as he did. He definitely didn’t know this one.

“Sorry to… um… bother you.”

Stumbling over his words, he blushed further, ducking his head as he idly toying with his earring. He hated his shyness, really he did.

“I could, uh, go?”

[ooc: Sorry it's so short.
Not sure what to say yet.
xD.
MY FAIRY BOY!
He's so fagaliscious.]

 

[- Child of Cirra -]

His senses dulled by the opium, it took the Tsingano a moment to realize he wasn't alone.
Slowly, he turned his head to regard the other male. His eyes were dull and glazed, his pipe hanging lazily out of the corner of his mouth.
He ran his glimmering sea-green eyes over the awkward youth...
...and, unexpectedly, smiled.
"Ah, look at you... A real gadjo pearl, aren't you?"
A grin split the width of his face, bright and pleasant against the dark pallor of his skin.
He shifted somewhat, dizzily pushing himself upright. The vast array of bangles and other galb adorning him tinkled and chimed with the sudden, unsteady movement. The light of the fire sent the multiple strands of beads, coins, and shards of colored glass in his hair twinkling and glimmering hypnotically. Steadying himself to a sitting position, he hunched over, propping one elbow up on his knee to cup his chin in his hands.
His other bejewled hand casually beckoned the other male.
"Come, chavo. Sit. 'Tis fate that's brought you here, yes?"
His voice was heavily accented, and further slurred by the opium's effects. However, it gave the strange man an implacable charm, and his flashing white smile only added to it.
Blue wisps of smoke danced in front of his face. He patted an empty space on the opposite side of the boulder, indicating that the other male should join him in his merriment.
Drugged and stupid as he was, it was passing hard to refuse the Tsingano's charm.

(( LOOK. MINE'S SHORT TOO. ))
(( XD ))

 

[` n e k e n e k e]

His head tilted, fascinated at the sound of the other males voice. It was accented, and he spoke some unusual words – words that the blond had never heard before. The grin was strangely nice, and he found himself standing, shuffling forwards as the other beckoned to him. Sitting slowly beside him, he made a face at the smell of the smoke, his nose tickling slightly, but not quite enough to sneeze. Sniffing slightly, he idly wondered what, exactly it was… and why the guy seemed kinda spacey. After all, he’d been told never to space out or daydream in an odd place…

But then, maybe this guy knew his way around the world more than his old friends had. Glancing at the jewelry adorned by the other male, the young blond idly fiddled with his earring, smiling sheepishly as he scooted closer.

“Um, sir? What’s a gadjo?”

The word seemed funny on his tongue and he made a face, scrunching his nose up. He was sure he’d slaughtered the word, and felt bad. Foreign tongues had always been of interest to him, and though he knew a few scattered words, he’d never had the opportunity to master another language. It would be nice, he thought, to know another language, to know another land. Still toying with his earring, he gave the other male and nervous smile, hugging his knees tight to his chest before he did something silly.

Like starting to ramble about the stars or fire or something. His nose scrunched up again.

“I don’t know much about fate. Or anything… really.”

And that, in itself, was true. A pack only taught a boy so much, and without family, well, certain things were neglect. Dragging his bare toes through the dirt, he stared at his feet, too shy to look at the other male again.

 

[- Child of Cirra -]

Though the boy hadn't quite joined him atop the boulder, he had indeed scooted closer. The man nearly shook his head, but understood the boy's shyness. Not all races were quite as bold and forthcoming as his own.
Nonetheless, he slung his legs over the side of the boulder and leaned forward, closing more of the space between them.
"A gadjo? Why, that's you!" he explained, giving the blonde youth a playful poke to the chest. "Not a Tsingano like me. You see?"
He gave a few hearty chuckles before taking a long drag from his pipe, his body leaning slightly backward as he inhaled.
He removed the pipe with a smile on his lips and, perhaps on accident, blew a steady stream of the blue smoke the youth's way.
However cheery the man seemed, he wasn't that great of an influence.
As he'd turned to face the youth, it'd seemed the strange man was to speak further. Instead, his already-glazed eyes clouded over with something... else. Something darker, more ancient. His eyes widened with distant sight, all expression having melted from his handsome face.
As quickly as they had clouded over, his eyes glistened once more, and returned to their heavy-lidded state.
His bright smile pulled his skin taut over the high rise of his cheekbones.
He spoke again, as if nothing had happened.
"You speak of Fate, chavo, the Lungo Drom upon which we all tread..."
His heavy accent, as much of a barrier it may have caused, gave the man's voice a melodic, bard-like quality that promised a satisfying explination to the youth's puzzlement.
"Like any ordinary road, there are forks in it, yes? When we come upon them, indeed, we may choose which path to take... But, ah, when we do, we must endure whatever it is we find upon that road, all the twists and turns, until yet another fork is presented to us..."
He nodded matter-of-factly, taking yet another drag from the pipe.
"Such is Fate."
As drugged as he was, he was completely unaware of how strange and exotic he must appear to the youth, with his multicolored skirts and his foreign coin galb, braids in his dark hair framing his tan skin...
As if to absent-mindedly reassure the youth somewhat, he flicked his red merle tail rhythmically behind him; he was a wolf, too, or at least, half.

 

[` n e k e n e k e]

Green eyes stared in fascination at the man before him. He was far too used to other males finding him boring or useless because of his shy nature, his lack of bulk to back up his rare challenges. This one, though, it seemed, didn’t care if he was a bit slender, a bit quiet, a bit stumbling when it came to talking. Irritably shoving his shaggy blond hair from his face, he was listening quite closely to the words the man spoke. Almost like he had a lot of dealings with the elusive world of fate, unlike himself, who just stumbled through life.

Tilted his head, he stared openly at the other, his darker skin and unusual way of dressing drawing his eyes. He knew he was being rude, of course, but there was nothing he could do to abate that. The movement of the tail fascinated him further, for he himself was more of a wolf in his human form that most, having his own tail – often hidden behind him as a mark of shame, and his ears, which until recently, had been those of a wolf. Furry and twitching, those ears had been a mark of his weakness, his inability to blend in.

Of course, recently he’d learned to control his appearance somewhat, and though he still had his tail, if he tried, he could get rid of the ears. His left one twitched slowly, and he made a face, noting to himself that this time, he hadn’t done so, and the furry appendages would probably draw a laugh and a sneer from the stranger before him. But then, his ears had been pricked upright when he stumbled, he though, and no comment had been made then. True, though, this man was not from the same world as he was, and so, he probably didn’t think it a mark of shame.

A genuine smile crossed the lads lips, his fangs evident in the undeniably happy look. Sometimes he was so eager to please.

“Oh. So you mean, un, that because one of both of us made a choice, we met? That’s kinda interesting.”

[[ooc: NumNums being my uke furry.]]
[[I know, silly.]]  

[- Child of Cirra -]

(( How perfect for my obnoxious, over-confident seme-furre. ;D ))

The Tsingano clapped his hands together gleefully, pleased with the youth's quick sense of understanding.
"Yes, yes, it is interesting!"
He giggled through closed lips, smiling cheerfully.
Normally, the concept of Fate would be more than melancholy for Hyacinthe... but the opium had clearly taken its toll, his euphoria rather evident.
"Makes you wonder why we were placed on the same path, yes? What will we find in eachother, hmmm? Are we to learn from one another? That, my friend, only time will tell."
Albeit randomly, Hyacinthe leaned backward to recline lazily on the mossy boulder once more. His hair fanned out behind him, looking as sweet and shining as dark chocolate. Muscles he'd earned by long years of travel flexed with his movement as he brought his arms back to rest his head on his hands.
"Ahh..."
He situated himself, and lay motionless for a few moments, until he realized that the blue tendrils of smoke no longer climbed from the bowl of his pipe. He furrowed his brows and pursed his lips, making a distasteful (yet oddly adorable) sort of face, and unlaced his fingers from behind his head to inspect his pipe with one hand. He blinked. He'd gone through an entire pill already?
"Oh well."
He removed the pipe from his mouth, turned it on its side to dump its ashes into the fire, and lazily tossed it to the side. It landed on a heap of his personal effects, including a small leather satchel and a pair of deftly made sandals.
His mouth felt as though it were missing something with the absence of his pipe, and he smacked his lips a couple times accordingly.
He made to lace his fingers behind him once more, but suddenly thought better of it.
Instead, he extended his arm politely toward the youth.
"Your name, chavo? If you've already told me, I do apologize..."
He grinned, sweet, confident, and charmingly.
"The name's Hyacinthe, here. But, ah, y'can call me Hyas if you'd like. Rolls easier off gadjo tongues, that it does."

 

[` n e k e n e k e]

Watching this other being in front of him was proving quite interesting, the blond thought to himself. He was dark, and rich with color, unlike the beings from his own home. There, it was prized to be as pure as one could be, and the more color one had, the worse off they were viewed. He, himself, had green eyes, and that in itself was a sin. They should have been black, not colored, and his hair should have been white. A scowl cast across his young features at the thought. The people from his home were so boring!

But this… this person was interesting. Watching him, with head tilted, he could not help but let his ears twitch towards the other, his tail shift slightly behind him. His claws drummed the soil as the pipe sailed across the area, and with a start, he noticed the pile of things. Eyeing it with a bit of a frown, the young lad blinked. He had no such satchel, or things to take with him on his travels. Well, sure, he had his furs, but they were on his body, and that was that. Nothing he had could be considered useless or frivolous. The joy of running with the wind, he thought to himself.

He started, blinking his wide green eyes at the other when he spoke. His name? A blush stole across his face as the exotic name came forth. Hyacinthe? Even in his head he said it wrong. Hyas it would be, he guessed. Crossing his legs and idly picking at the fur of what one might call his sandals, he grinned.

“Numb3rs. But people call me all sorts of things…”

A dark look crossed his face then vanished under the grin, his wide smile youthful, often annoying and present even in the wrong situations.

“A friend once called me Numnum.”

 

[- Child of Cirra -]

Half-mindedly, Hyacinthe noticed that the lad was staring at him rather intently.
He took no offense; rather, he understood. The Tsingano was far from home, and he was certain the poor boy had never seen anything of his like before.
He chuckled, glad to be proving interesting.
"Numnum, eh? Hah! It suits you, chavo, short and cute."
The man winked, a gentle mischief swimming in the depths of his liquid eyes.
He took back his hand, winding a lock of his hair around one of his long, femininely clawed fingers.
It was his turn to stare and study.
In all his travels, Hyacinthe had seen many different kinds of people, but the youth before him interested him nonetheless. They were almost exact opposites, dark and light, coarse and fair...
Hyacinthe liked him instantly.
He returned the lad's smile with one of his own.
"So. What put you on this path, eh, Numnum? What, do you think, brought you here?"
Such questions were rather redundant ones for the Tsingano to be asking. He'd already used the dromonde on the lad, however vague the vision he'd received was. He merely sought to ease the youth into pleasant conversation, as he sympathized toward his awkwardness.
Hyacinthe might've been wrong, but... it looked like the boy could use a friend.

 

[` n e k e n e k e]

A snort came from him at the short and cute. Hyas made him sound like a girl. Raking his hand through his hair, he felt himself blush, a rather large grin on his young face. Well, he’d had people assume that before – hadn’t he? The second statement, well, question, was so much easier to deal with than the blush turning his cheeks redder and redder by the moment.

“My home… um, it doesn’t exactly welcome people like me.”

Making a face, he pointed to his eyes, blinking the dark lashes as he did so. He didn’t really have to explain, but he had the distinct feeling Hyas kinda wanted to know. Or already knew. He wasn’t quite sure, but he felt compelled to speak anyhow.

“Too much color, see? Makes ‘em think I’m dirty.”

His bright green eyes seeped with pain, and though he hid it well with his cheerful nature, it had hurt to be encouraged to leave. Not that his pack would ever actually kick a mutt like him out, but they didn’t exactly welcome him to stay. Most of them were just quietly oblivious of him, not hostile but pretending he didn’t exist. Some of the younger ones, though, they could be pretty nasty about it. He’d been told that once a few of the interbred ones had been born, and they’d been friends, but he was the only one from his age group in the area. In the end, surviving on his own had been a lot easier than staying where he was unwanted.

“I’m supposed to have black eyes and white hair. Cept my dad wasn’t from the pack so… that didn’t happen.”

 

[- Child of Cirra -]

Hyacinthe nodded slowly, contemplating the boy's response.
It fit together with his vague little vision quite well.
"Ah," he breathed, as all the little pieces fell into place.
Abruptly, he jerked his chin Numnum's way.
"And your markings, chavo... I've never seen the like before."
Well, he'd seen them with the help of the dromonde... but that was about it.
His small monroe piercing glittered and shone as a wry smile curved his plump lips.
He expected the youth to be somewhat surprised, as he'd not had an opportunity yet to see said markings; Numnum hadn't turned his back on him once.
"Do all your people bear much the same? I feel magic in you, too, yes? What about that, hmmm?"
Hyacinthe hadn't once considered that he might be acting a bit nosy, using his powers so excessively. But why not? It was forbidden among his people for a male to exercise such powers... but he wasn't among them, not anymore, and he saw little hurt in it.
Though, admittingly, he partly used the dromonde so much simply for the cause of rebellion.
But, at the moment, it was proving to be quite a fun little party trick.
In his past travels, he'd used it in exchange for lodging at different taverns; the wenches would swoon, the cooks would swear, the inkeeper'd gasp, and the eavesdropping customers would laugh and jest amongst themselves.
He never thought for an instant that he abused his power.
He was simply dealing the hand he'd been given.

 

[` n e k e n e k e]

A little bit of shock registered on his face before the youth blushed profusely, wondering idly what sort of magic this new friend had that allowed him to know about the stripes down his back. Though he was shirtless for the moment, and the tattoo like markings were very visible, he knew the only parts easily seen from the front were the small areas below his armpits and across his hips. And since movement often hid those from view… Well, perhaps he was just a perceptive being? Not one to assume bad things, the young blonde tilted his head, his left ear twitching idly.

“Um… well… another pack near my old one had a few with the marks. Theirs only showed up when they were fighting, though. And, heh, mine are always there.”

Running his hand over his hip, where he knew the mark was by instinct, he shrugged, making a face.

“Nobody from my pack ever told me much about them. Un, they never told me much at all, though.”

Blushing profusely, he stared at his hands.

“Magic? Me? Naw… Not that I can use, anyhow.”

His face was a mask for a moment, before he grinned again. He knew that he had magic in him, he’d always know. A part of the whispering had been about his marks, proud and vivid as they were. They’d called him a monster, stating that he must be from the other pack. In their pack, the marks were those of warriors, of guardians of the people. In his pack they were considered cutthroat murderers, rapists, the worst of the worst. He, of course, was none of those things. Too small to be much good in battle, and not ruthless enough to kill another sentient being… well, he just wasn’t much of a guardian. But he did have magic. Things happened around him – he’d just never learned to use it, really.

 

[Slighter]

Laying down in his Human form in the tall dry grass face up at the passing clouds, a cool light breeze blowing the grass from side to side with the sound of water from a nearby stream filled Seleinis head with thoughts of the older days with the pack, back when he was just a loner, Hiding around with very few wolves who knew his name.

"Ahhh...." A sigh Escaping his lips has he ran a hand down up his chest and scratched his neck.

"I Bet Nobody even knows who I am anymore..." He said in a low voice has he sat up and stretched.

Looking around before he stood up, Seleinis slowly started walking around the clearing pondering about the future, his head up in the clouds.