lost time

"Shit," muttered Florence under her breath, skirting along a stretch of plush green grass. It was nearly midday, and her lecture had started already, and she was very sorely late. The class was almost over. "Shit, shit, shit," she continued to mutter as a near-silent monologue as she rushed towards the Arboretum, feeling a flush creeping onto her face. This was one of her very first times in this lecture, and the professor could be a real jerk. He loved to call on students randomly, in no discernible order, and she just knew that her lateness would cause herself to be picked on.

And it was likely she wouldn't know the answer, because instead of studying, she had been trying very intently to practice a basic salve that might have healed her late father. No, that was not true. It probably couldn't have healed him. He had had sepsis, as she now knew, and an infection of the blood was a singularly slow, painful, and largely irreversible way to die. But it did not stop her dreams of him, even here, in a new nation. She and her brother, Victorian, had come so far, and yet she sometimes felt like she was back home, with two parents dead and a boat load of guilt.

She had finally made it to the beginning of the Redwood, and the welcoming warmth of the Arboretum flowed outwards towards her. She heard the familiar buzzing of insects, likely darting about to pollinate the many flora that the College contained. She scarcely had time to be relieved, though. Her lecture was at the farthest point. As she whirled into the maple grove, she had a fleeting though that, by the time she got there, she'd already have missed class. It was in that second that she ran summarily into someone who had been standing near her chosen entry point, and with a startled oof she bounced off this someone and staggered backwards, onto her butt. "Oh no, I'm sorry," she already began saying as soon as the daze of the sudden impact left her.

""

table by ferus, image by ashon, bg from unsplash

@Arythmetik

A R Y T H M E T I K

Watching the professor’s lecture (and assisting somewhat mildly) was an inspiration. At its conclusion, Arythmetik was summarily distracted with questions and concerns—would he carry himself with such confidence? Would the Arboretum accept him as a tenured professor in their hallowed institution? Was there a way to grow their herbs out of season, so lessons could take place effectively year-round? (That one was a bit off-topic, but it sparked in his mind nonetheless.) His ears were swiveled toward the fading sounds of post-lesson conversation, emerald eyes glazed and peering, unfocused, into the distance. So he had no warning when a dark shape bumped right into his rear. Aryth’s eyes popped wide, and he stumbled forward, his tail curling instinctively around his hind as he yelped, “Oof!” Whoever collided with him was already apologizing as he whipped around to face them.

And he was met with an unexpectedly lovely sight. Immediately, the female’s sweet, earthy aroma wafted to him, and he vaguely recognized her from some of the recent herb courses. His eyes sought her brilliant, golden gaze, and if the scholar could have blushed, he would have. The distinctive, white feathering against her raven fur conjured memories of idle, curious glances, but he never had learned her name. Clearing his throat and blinking, the male stood straight and offered her an awkward smile. “Are you quite alright, miss? I...know I can blend into the surroundings, sometimes.” It was a dry, clumsy attempt at a joke (not one of the Junior Professor’s strong suits) and an obvious reference to his mottled brown and tan coat in the midst of their forest surroundings. “Er, if you came for the lesson, it’s just ended.”

code by claerie

@Florence
ooc. So sorry for the wait! <3 Florence is so cute!

Florence lurched upright onto her paws just moments after the collision, a sickly red heat blooming along her cheeks. She was not always clumsy, but when she was, she managed to be the clumsiest of them all. She could scarcely contain her embarrassment. How had she not noticed she was about to run into someone? Her anxious yellow eyes found the other's face as he whipped around, and she was expecting him to be a stranger she would have to apologize profusely to and then hope never to see again. But this was not her luck. No, she felt surprise commingle with dread as she realized she knew exactly who he was.

Well, not exactly. But he was in her class, and he was not a student--not traditionally. She had seen him help the professor in some of their lectures, and he appeared to be nearly a professor himself. He was always very focused in classes; she'd thought before that she wished to aspire to his level of undivided focus. She thought he'd been introduced to the class before, but she couldn't remember by what name. “Are you quite alright, miss? I...know I can blend into the surroundings, sometimes.” She grimaced at the thought of him apologizing to her after she had run him over, but she allowed a small chuckle to escape her at his mild attempt at humor. “Er, if you came for the lesson, it’s just ended.”

"Yes, I seem to have done everything wrong today," she said, her voice breathless with apology. "I was running so late, and I'm still quite new, and I just sort of barreled in -- " She continued to look at him anxiously. "I really am so sorry. I should have been paying more attention." She hesitated here, her eyes flicking to the students filing by them, and then back to his familiar face. "I'm Florence," she said as mostly an afterthought, allowing a small, awkward smile to touch her lips. "I've seen you around before. You're not a student, right? You help in lessons sometimes." She took a brave stab at conversation so that he would not think she was a jerk--and because she had not made a single friend since starting at the college. Maybe today she would find her first.

""

table by ferus, image by ashon, bg from unsplash

@Arythmetik

A R Y T H M E T I K

The woman seemed just as embarrassed as he did, and Arythmetik wasn’t sure how to react. He could only hope that she saw how unbothered he was by the incident. Well, that wasn’t quite true. He wasn’t angry or upset, but he was bothered by the fact that he couldn’t find the right words. But she laughed, if only faintly, and if the scholar had lacked an iota more composure, he would have sighed with relief right then and there. Luckily, he wasn’t that awkward. Instead, his tentative smile widened. Tail wagging in a casual, friendly manner, he devoted her name to memory. “Oh, trust me, it’s quite alright. It’s a pleasure to officially meet you, Florence.” Aryth nodded, then added, “I could catch you up on what you missed, if you like.” Then it was his turn to laugh. He shrugged and confirmed, “Yes I’m...studying to be a professor myself. I’m leading more and more lessons on my own. So, it really wouldn’t be a bother to help you out.”


Suddenly, he shook his head and added, “Oh! I’m Arythmetik, by the way. But you can call me Aryth.” He laughed again. Eejit. You almost forgot to introduce yourself. “Let’s get out of the path, shall we?” The male’s gleaming fur, like autumn leaves in spotty sunlight, shimmered as he nodded then stepped off the path. If she followed him, he’d walk to a fallen log nearby, where amanita mushrooms sprouted from the damp bark. Their red-and-white spotted caps were like stools for the chipmunks that rested there, at least until the wolves headed their direction and they scampered into the forest.

code by claerie

@Florence !

“Oh, trust me, it’s quite alright. It’s a pleasure to officially meet you, Florence.” She was pleased that he truly did not seem distressed by the incident, and with every passing moment, she grew a little more relaxed. “I could catch you up on what you missed, if you like.” Now she felt a wave of true relief. Would he really be so kind? He had to be a scholar, then, if he was offering to give her extra help. And a moment later, he confirmed it. “Yes I’m...studying to be a professor myself. I’m leading more and more lessons on my own. So, it really wouldn’t be a bother to help you out.” Her sunshine eyes widened as she realized he truly meant it. "That would be amazing," she said with sincerity.

“Oh! I’m Arythmetik, by the way. But you can call me Aryth.” She was glad to know his name with some certainty now, instead of hedging guesses that had been, in fact, far from the truth. She nodded and smiled, committing the name to memory, as he suggested that they get out of the path. She nodded hastily in agreement and followed him to the side, her eyes catching on the tails of chipmunks scurrying hurriedly away. As soon as they got settled, she said, "I appreciate you taking pity on me. It hasn't been the easiest transition." Her eyes moved from his face to the scurrying students, bodies flashing past in quick succession.

"I just moved here," she said by way of explanation a moment later, drawing her eyes back onto his face. "Though I'm sure you assumed that already." She made a gesture that indicated herself as a whole, tardiness and all.

""

table by ferus, image by ashon, bg from unsplash

@Arythmetik

A R Y T H M E T I K

Aryth smiled as they approached the fallen log, its decadent, mossy smell tantalizing his nose. He quietly celebrated his luck. This was the perfect opportunity to practice instruction; after all, preferring books to action meant that he rarely found himself in these situations unplanned. As Florence took her seat, Aryth hopped over the log, his long, earthen tail swishing behind him. Then he turned to face her, setting his forepaws on the bark as though it was a table between them. His emerald eyes glittered as he replied, “Pity? Not at all. If anything, you’re doing me a favor.”


The sunny-eyed woman explained that she just moved here (and she was right, he had assumed that). But it gave Aryth pause. He was so ready to dive into the lesson she missed, but something about her gentle, humble nature...soothed him. The scholar parted his maw, then grinned, leaning forward comfortably on the tree trunk. “Sure, but there’s always a story. How about a trade? You can tell me about where you’re from, and I’ll catch you up on the lesson you missed.”

code by claerie

@Florence

“Pity? Not at all. If anything, you’re doing me a favor.” Florence smiled as she decided to believe him. He had an easy way about him, one that made her trust that he wouldn't waste his time on lies. She appreciated that: the feeling of genuineness when she looked at him. And he certainly could have been rude so far. The fact that he had chosen kindness instead was a positive sign for their future friendship.

She tried not to eye his position too eagerly. He was propped up for a lesson, and she was sure she needed one in order not to fail the class. But it appeared he had a bit of a game in mind. Or rather an exchange. “Sure, but there’s always a story. How about a trade? You can tell me about where you’re from, and I’ll catch you up on the lesson you missed.” She felt a smile tug at her lips and she nodded, feeling like this was the least she could do for his generosity.

She was determined to keep it lighthearted, so she would avoid the stickier details. "My brother and I grew up far away from here," she said, gently rubbing a spare bit of moss on the ground with her paw thoughtfully. "We lived in a forest, sort of like this one -- though not as hot, and not nearly as well maintained." She caught his eye and smiled. "There was this stream there that had these pebbles -- they were all different colors, shapes, and sizes. I found red ones, black ones, purple ones, even ones that looked almost blue. It was a really special place. My mother loved that stream, too. After she lost her sight, I had to describe the colors for her, but I didn't mind."

She realized then that she'd been talking a lot, lost in a dream, and she re-tethered herself back to earth quickly, choosing to bottle away the rest of the story abruptly. "Sorry. It's easy to get lost in the memories of it. It's funny, but now I can smell that stream -- exactly how it smelled. The water, and the rocks around it. Memories are strange, aren't they?" she asked, almost rhetorically.

""

table by ferus, image by ashon, bg from unsplash

A R Y T H M E T I K

Aryth tilted his head, smiling gently as he watched her spin her tale. The way she described the scene with such care, the scholar could clearly picture it in his mind. It was like reading one of his precious books. He could see the pebbles, their colorful surfaces glistening from the droplets of water that clung to their smooth surfaces as they were plucked from the stream. But just as he was falling into her narrative, Florence stopped herself. Aryth blinked, his emerald gaze focusing on her kind features once more. “It sounds lovely.” His smile softened. “Truly. I’m sure you did an incredible job describing the colors to your mother.” He didn’t realize that his compliments might be coming on a bit strong. He was just being honest.


“I’ve always collected things, too,” he added. Then he chuckled, “But I collect books instead.” And he had no one to share them with—not until he became a professor, anyway. His parents died when he was young, and truth be told, he couldn’t really remember his mother. But he remembered his first book. He remembered the musty scent of the pages, and the way they felt so soft against the pad of his paw. He remembered the numerals inked above ornate illustrations of acorns in various groupings. He remembered how solving the puzzle of words kept him from feeling alone. Maybe that was why he’d become a professor: he could finally share with other wolves, instead of keeping it all to himself. “You know, I read, once, that our minds create memories to help us learn important things. The more important, the stronger connection to our neurons, and the more we can remember the smells, the tastes, the sounds…” Aryth trailed off.


Finally, he looked back up at Florence and asked with a smile, “Why did you leave that place? If you don’t mind my asking.”

code by claerie

@Florence <3

“It sounds lovely. Truly. I’m sure you did an incredible job describing the colors to your mother.” She met his smile, grateful that her words were not scoffed and that she did not make him uncomfortable. Florence knew she could be a wistful being, and it was in her nature to take in great detail about the world around her -- especially when it came to her family. But now that it was just she and Victorian, those memories had taken on a much different and more important meaning. She could not have guessed that they would be the only things she had left of her parents at the young age of two.

“I’ve always collected things, too. But I collect books instead.” She nodded. "I understand why," she murmured quietly, imagining what it might have been like to have such a world open to her as a child. Countless new tales, countless new memories, at her fingertips. “You know, I read, once, that our minds create memories to help us learn important things. The more important, the stronger connection to our neurons, and the more we can remember the smells, the tastes, the sounds…” He spoke gently, and she found herself nodding again in agreement.

“Why did you leave that place? If you don’t mind my asking.” She might not have told him, but he was so gentle, and she was so lonely. It might feel good to let a stranger get to know her. So that she felt welcome in this place. "My parents passed," she answered simply, "and there was nothing left for us there anymore. Victorian and I didn't want to stay. We just wanted..." She trailed off, struggling for the right phrase. Freedom was not right. If she'd had the choice, she would have stayed there forever with her family. "Closure," she finished after a few contemplative moments. Then she smiled, looking to move the conversation into calmer waters. "But we could not have anticipated what we were walking into. This land is so complicated. And we know next to nothing -- only what we've managed to learn since our arrival through trial and error."

""

table by ferus, image by ashon, bg from unsplash

A R Y T H M E T I K

Aryth’s ears drooped for a moment, something resembling sympathy springing into his gaze. His parents were dead too, but he didn’t know how she felt. Not really. He’d been too young to understand that kind of pain. But it was evident in Florence’s soft features and quiet voice that just talking about her parents made her sad. Silently, the scholar cursed himself. He hadn’t meant to make this conversation with a new acquaintance so awkward. But she was generous with her reaction, and the male nodded, maintaining his composure even as his claws nervously picked at the bark of the trunk beneath him. “Well, surely the Arboretum is glad to have you.” It wasn’t much, but he hoped it would make her feel a tiny bit better.


Aryth shifted his weight as he continued to listen to her, leaning fully into the log and trying to relax his posture. His ears perked forward once more and he grinned wryly. “Ah,” he mused, jerking his head up in an understanding nod, “yes…” The autumn-colored man paused, thinking. “You know, maybe instead of catching you up on a stuffy lesson about medicinal herbs, I could help you sort out...you know, everything that’s going on around here. I hear things from passersby and make my way out of Melrose quite often these days.” Of course, he’d still be happy to tell her about the class she missed, but he had a feeling this would actually be more useful to her in the moment. “What sort of questions do you have since you and your...sibling? arrived here?” He could only assume ‘Victorian’ was related, based on the context.

code by claerie

@Florence