sonder spring 1716

Rye Whiskey

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Protestor

citizen of Saora
born under
age
4 years old
gender
Female
size
Small
scent
Old books
culture
Lowlander
home
Aberdeen
threadlog
encounters
writer
claerie

Ara Snow
dainty are the faerie wings, her hair silver spun

Nice was a compliment to most and yet Ara found that the word stung. It was not his fault nor could he know, and yet she felt her stomach twist. When she had shared her theories with wolves outside of her natal home, they had listened for a moment before widening their eyes and casting quiet glances at one another. Crazy? Would seem to be the subliminal question. Yes, but nice...? Would be the answer. And although she would rarely hear these words spoken aloud, she knew the result. Like clockwork, she'd be gently brushed aside.

Never yelled at, never attacked... never taken seriously.

And so nice felt like a collar wrapped around her throat. A diminutive death sentence to a diminutive life in which she made no impact.

Still, she smiled as sweetly as she could (though the emotion did not reach her eyes). But at least she could warn him about the dangers of their land. Her feelings were not ones that she blamed him for. If anything, she blamed her situation. It would be easy if non-believers were easily waved off as foolish but there was logic to their arguments. Logic that she struggled to deny. What hurt was that there was never a debate. She was always laughed off until she felt so small that her voice died within her throat.

At least this man listened. It almost made her laugh and her somber smile brightened somewhat. No one deserved to be devoured by Fae but... she would be disappointed if he was. Quietly, she sent a small prayer to the moon goddess that he would make it home safely... and almost as soon as she turned to scamper up the trail, his voice made her jump out of her skin.

The fur along her nape ruffled and she stumbled, almost pitching off the cliff in her hurry to stop. Paws skid against the gravel and the stones played a staccato rhythm as they fell to their deaths. Ara, breathless, looked over her shoulder bemused. She had expected him to rejoice in her leaving but... he was... offering her his name?

Her head canted left... then right... genuine puzzlement in her eyes. Then she shook her head as if to clear the thoughts again (for they often cluttered in her head) and she dipped her head in greeting. "Ara," she said.

With him further out on the trail, the white in his fur seemed to glow. His eyes too... they were so bright and blue.

And then he stepped forward and she involuntarily sucked in a breath.

”You offered to walk me home, I’ll offer the same. If you’d like".

Ara blinked. Then her soft smile returned and she couldn't help but offer a soft laugh though there was no sound to it. "I'd just talk about the Fae the whole way home," she confessed. "You don't need to force yourself for the sake of politeness. I know the way," her head turned to survey the Drunken Seagull's dark maw again. "And I know most of the trails to avoid. My blood wouldn't be on your hands, I promise."

It was... sweet of him to offer, and she honestly wouldn't mind the company. But she feared she'd done too much damage to this man's evening already.

@Monarch
code by claerie
08-13-2021, 12:46 AM
#11

Bartender

citizen of
born under
age
3 years old
gender
Male
size
Large
scent
Rum and Smoke
culture
Outlander
home
Wanderer
writer
Martina

Though Monarch had turned his brash, brutishness around and tried to make the situation less tense, there still seemed to be something wrong even after his amiable words. She was small and quiet, looking at him with a smile that did not seem entirely true. But he couldn’t tell what it was exactly, unease and disquiet remaining in the back of his mind as his brows dimpled once more in a bit of a frown. He wasn’t the best at conversing, and this one had gone entirely to shit it seemed. Normally he wouldn’t have minded, especially with how rudely she tried to disregard him earlier but he couldn’t help but feel like he was maybe a bit harsh, now. She obviously seemed sincere in a way most wolves he knew simply weren’t.

She gave him some advice and bid farewell but Monarch realized suddenly he didn’t want it to end on that sour note. So he called her back, wincing a little as she skittered to a stop, nearly falling. Was this just making it worse? God, he never felt this uncomfortable. She looked back at him utterly confused, her head tilting from side to side before a shake followed, as if clearing her thoughts. Monarch waited, uncertain. But finally, her name, and as Ara bowed her head a little, he followed suit. He allowed his lips to curve just slightly, happy that he got there at least. He would know her next time.

Monarch moved forward to offer her the same as they left, out of courtesy but without pity or chivalry. She came here on her own and he didn’t doubt she’d be fine on her way home as well. Her words seemed to confirm the same, as Ara said she knew where to avoid. But also saying he needn’t force himself, as if that was what he were doing. His frown returned. She said all this with a smile, a tiny gust of laughter, and yet it seemed like a façade that didn’t match the self-deprecating nature of her words. He took another step forward and shook his head. ”I’m not forcing myself,” he said simply, catching up to her, glancing down at her strange red eyes. ”Let’s go, I’ll join you part of the way.” he finished, and took off along the trail without another word, hoping she’d follow. ”I think I need to learn about these Fae things anyway, since so many of you talk about them…” he tossed over his shoulder, his voice still gruff but with a new kind of warmness to it that was different to his earlier indifference. He realized that Ara hadn’t deserved his ire and this wasn’t exactly a complete turnaround on his part but… he hoped she didn’t hate him. Monarch was trying not to repeat history, after all.

-Exit Monarch-



also ahh Ara making my heart break T_T @Ara
09-03-2021, 12:59 PM
#12

Protestor

citizen of Saora
born under
age
4 years old
gender
Female
size
Small
scent
Old books
culture
Lowlander
home
Aberdeen
threadlog
encounters
writer
claerie

Ara Snow
dainty are the faerie wings, her hair silver spun

It was a wonder that they were adults. To look at them was to see the awkwardness of two children meeting for the first time, albeit without the luxury of hiding behind their parents' legs. Rather, they were forced to trade awkward glances. When one reached out, the other seemed to swat the hand away only to realize that they had acted brashly. They would fumble with their own hands outstretched and the cycle would repeat again.

At first, Ara had been naïve to this endless play in which they had both staggered through their roles. Now it felt all too obvious.

And so, for once that line, she leaned into the sweet little voice of truth. Mismatched eyes peered up into those of blue as the man cloaked and ebon' and ivory drew a step closer. "I'm not forcing myself." Her brow lifted somewhat whilst her smile grew, softening into something genuine. No longer was it the polite mask but rather the gentle sweetness of a girl having found a new friend.

He brushed by her and, as he did, she caught the scent of wine and... smoke? It was an uncommon perfume, one that none in the college carried. That brought an odd, electric shock of excitement. Her head turned, momentarily paralyzed, before she realized that he would hardly be able to walk her if she did not follow.

Swiftly scampering after, her smile growing all the more as he tossed a gruff (yet warm?) comment back over his shoulder. As the trial widened, she sailed by his shoulder, mischief glittering in her eyes. "Then I'll just have to show you!"

And the way home was a bit of a winding one. She wished to show every important grove and tree hollow, yet had to settle for the most significant ones. Dryads, changelings, pixies, nymphs... they joined her song and she shared what she could. One theory, Arthur's, made its appearance as well. Hummingbirds as Fae? Perhaps preposterous, perhaps real!

...

When at last they arrived, she felt breathless and more giddy than she had in months. The moon was high within the sky and she felt bashful, once more fearing that she had stolen far too much. But was it theft when it was freely given?

After asking him to stay for just a moment more, Ara disappeared into her den. When she returned, it was with a book in tow—one of her favorites. The Mabinogian.

"It's not all about Fae but it has some of the most interesting tales. Please let me know what you think... I would love to hear."

- exit Ara, waving goodbye to Monarch -


@Monarch
code by claerie
09-05-2021, 11:25 PM
#13
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