Thicket of Secrets old souls

Though their travels hadn't been as extensive as the ones that were held in folktales told by the storytellers of Widemouth Creek during their bi-annual festivals, Emrys certainly felt as though he'd been on the move for years. The rosy-fingered dawn ebbed slowly over the horizon, fading from a deep purple; quite the beautiful morning. The light chirps of songbirds paired with the glow of early morning was quite the pleasant experience; and the presence of a rain shower did little in the way of putting a damper on his mood. Everything was absolutely perfect, there was nothing that he could complain about. He was however, suddenly aware that his feet hurt, so out of exhaustion, and a (very minor) fear they might busticate, promptly threw himself down amongst the wildflowers. If his scent hadn't been so utterly masculine, chances were that, with his feminine build, he could have easily been mistaken for a large female. Speaking of which, where was Kiera? She was a pretty girl, even if he did have a hard time entertaining anything aside from platonic relations from her now. Before the rumors and the supposed indiscretions, he'd often found himself wondering just what it would be like to be more than friends, but all of that had been stomped out by the adults of the Creek. "Kiera," his voice wasn't loud, but if she was close by he had no doubt she'd hear him. "it's raining..." Which wouldn't have held any significance to anybody else to him; he enjoyed rain far more than anything else, especially now. It held a certain kind of spiritual meaning for him... like it was washing away their pasts.

(This post was last modified: Aug 01, 2010, 12:04 PM by Emrys-Shade.)

Although she had spent most of their time traveling stuck to Emrys's side, as soon as they had approached the Thicket of Secrets, Kiera had bounded ahead of him in an uncharacteristically open show of delight. She had always had a particular fondness for flowers and plants, and that the territory they were in right now was full of it was something that had excited her. She ambled through the tangled plants, stopping at some small flowers that she could not recognize, tasting the nectar of some that she could recognize. It soothed her, in a way, to know that some of the plants that she had grown up learning about at Widemouth Creek was here, too. She had not been too eager to leave the pack; after all, it would have inevitably become her responsibility. However, she did not regret it. The adults, with their whispers, were too much like yearlings, or children, even. Although she was blessed with a significant amount of patience, even she couldn't take the explosive rumors about herself and Emrys. They must be having a blast now, talking about how Kiera and Emrys had eloped, or something similar to that.
As her friend's familiar voice busticated the fragile silence, she immediately turned and began to head his way. It was instinct, to go to him. As his brown pelt came into view, a small smile curved her lips as she heard him say, 'It's raining...' Kiera herself was rather fond of the rain (only the beautiful type of rain, however; she despised the type of dreary rain that was depression-inducing). She knew he wasn't pointing out the rain because of its beauty, however, but because it was significant to him. To both of them. <b style="font-size:12px; font-family:georgia;">"I know," she told him, voice light and breezy. Kiera paused, and then pointedly looked at their surroundings, <b style="font-size:12px; font-family:georgia;">"Perhaps it's a sign? This would be a nice place to stay." Her flute-like voice was devoid of the stutters that usually riddled her speech. She hadn't stuttered while talking to Emrys since they were merely puppies, however. Sometime and somehow, when they had been growing up, she had felt safe enough to be herself around him. <b style="font-size:12px; font-family:georgia;">

While the Creek had never been a religious pack, one founded on great ideals that others might not understand or appreciate, Emrys held things around him in high regard. He didn't know what caused some things, like rain, at just the right time... but he could still be thankful for it. Even as he lay back against the flowers—surely they'd bounce back from being flattened—the chocolate male's eyes slid closed, willing himself to sleep. Unfortunately there were things that they needed to do, like find a place to sleep tonight, however far off that was. Kiera's voice came ringing back at him though, and he allowed one eye to open, should she smile. Another one of the world's wonders was Ms. Shale's smile, whether he'd tell her or not. Their ideals were very similar, so when she suggested that they stay, he huffed slightly. "Kiera Shale, you and your brazen ideas," He was joking, albiet prodding both their recent wounds regarding why they'd left. Oh yes, because she was so 'seductive', and he had such a 'one-track mind'. Leaning to the side with his full weight, the long-legged male lazily lifted himself to his feet and subsequently shook the dew from his fur. He liked it here, more than he'd liked the Creek. Maybe not this single place, but everything else that intuition told him was here. Beautiful, wonderful things. "nonetheless, I agree. It is nice here." It was also protected by the thick vine-like trees that kept people away from the flowers. Quite the metaphor for life. Protect the nice things. With that, he took off at a lazy trot, pleased that such a place had unveiled itself before them. Part him wondered what this place was called, or even if it had a name. He'd have to find somebody, or something that knew.

Kiera knew that Emrys had only been joking when insinuating about the gossip-mongers' whispers, but it still made her uncomfortable. Her smile turned slightly hesitant, but it still remained there, warming her feminine face. Trying to act nonchalant (which is a phrase that totally reminds Jaq of the song "Beautiful Disaster" by John McLaughlin since part of the lyrics is 'she gives the boys what they want, tries to act so nonchalant,' but anyways), she playfully nudged the taller male's brown figure, retorting, <b style="font-size:12px; font-family:georgia;">"Emrys Toraliel, you and your inaction." She quirked a wolven brown in his direction, but was soon distracted once again by the sheer beauty of the surrounding chaos of flora. Although light rain continued to steadily sprinkle the duet of wolves and the foliage surrounding them, the water was crystalline and pure. It clung to the sides of the leaves and trees, creating tiny trails as the droplets slipped down. The drops that lacked enough momentum remained at a standstill, reflecting the faded colors of the morning light. It was beautiful, and undeniably so. True, she had already come to that conclusion just moments before, but the underwood was just so spectacular that her brain needed to recognize the beauty twice.
Trailing after her companion as he began to move through the undergrowth, she quirked her ears and let her gaze freely wander across the green, green canopies, not unlike a tourist. <b style="font-size:12px; font-family:georgia;">"What do you think this place is called?" Kiera asked (not knowing that the male had been wondering the same thing just moments ago), gray-blue gaze flickering back to Emrys's familiar figure. She pursed her lips, momentarily in thought, and then spoke up again, <b style="font-size:12px; font-family:georgia;">"Tangled Forest would be a suitable name, don't you think?" Her tail waved happily behind her as she looked around again, feeling safe and secure for the first time since the two of them had left Widemouth Creek. <b style="font-size:12px; font-family:georgia;">

All hints of exhaustion that previously plagued the male had vanished, replaced with thoughtfulness. Her comment about his unwillingness to act upon feelings, upon thoughts brought a bitter feeling to his body. He truly regretted his inability to... fight for her honor, if that's what it was. Technically nothing had happened, but he still felt weird about the whole thing. Males were supposed to protect their mates, were they not? And if he failed in protecting his best friend, then how did he expect to be able to do it if the times called for it again? With these thoughts cluttering his mind, the brown male trekked slowly through the dew covered plants. Her friendly nudge brought a light smile to his face though, and he turned to look at her again, returning the playful nudge. When she asked what he'd been thinking only moments ago though, he looked around in thought, then considered the name she'd proposed. "That's fitting," he thought out loud, while considering other options. The orange poppies reminded him of something, something beautiful and terrifying at the same time. "Field of Fire?" He wasn't asking whether it was, rather if it looked the same to her. He couldn't be sure, everybody saw things differently. Her wagging tail was a nice sight, for it meant she was comfortable at last. He felt nice too, knowing she felt the same.