A Summer Day

[Sorcha]

The young cub’s paws carried her sleek figure through the tall grasses of her home. She giggled and yipped at passing bugs as she darted this way and that in the dazzling rays of the sun, playing as any young pup would on such a glorious days as this. Her tones were happy and joyful, to match the lovely day that Ge-Rad had been given, and the cub rolled through the dirt, mussing her silvery coat.

She was known as Sorcha, the last born daughter of Draeg and Cwen, of course she didn’t know too much about the world around her, and as such was full of curiosity. She hadn’t long been in this world, but she did so love to explore it. Having left the safety of the dens to wander about the meadow and chase after insects and numerous other unidentified objects that happened to pass by her as she romped about on this unusually peaceful day.

Suddenly, and without warning, Sorcha plopped down on the ground, her thick plume thumping furiously into the ground and bringing forth a cloud of dust to which she sneezed noisily in and giggled more and she wiggled her legs in the air pretending that she was walking across the few drifting clouds. From here her imagination soared and she pretended that instead of walking she was swimming in the open blue sky, that it was like a pool of ever changing water that had strange orbs drifting to make the colors change and give light to the surface world. She was completely unaware of reality as she let her imagination take her across Transylvania - or at least the little slice of it that she knew - and traveled the pack lands, picturing the meadow and various other locations as if she might be a bird.

Of course she couldn’t really fly above the clouds, but Sorcha thought it fun to pretend and soon she was up and running again, oblivious to the fact that someone could possibly be watching her as she dashed around again, chasing insects in flight.

[Shayla]

A silver shade of colour moved across the grass, enjoying the feel of the rays of warmth beating down upon the darker colouration of fur along her back, and the nice day in general. Shayla shook her pelt and continued wandering. She didn't have much of an idea of where she was going, she just hoped that she'd end up someplace interestingv - for the young faemme often found herself easily bored. Also, being on her own for too long tended to allow her to think too much, which never seemed to be a good thing for the grey faemme.

Shayla raised her head slightly and scented the air currents, the young faemme looked surprisingly like her mother, with light grey fur darkening to the darkest of grey's along her back. The only traces of her father's heritage were to be picked out from her long and bushy tail, and a fleck of amber colour in her right iris, which otherwise would have been a blue/grey colour.

Shayla wrinkled her nose, the air was infused with the scent of wood, water, grass, earth, all the GeRad vargs. One smell was much closer though, a scent that Shayla had only really scented around the dens before, because she had avoided the owner of this scent for her own reasons.

Too late to disappear now though, Shayla thought, as the pup bounded into sight, suddenly dropping down to the ground in clouds of dust and laughter. Shayla licked her lips thoughtfully, startig to turn away, when the pup started to move again. Scowling, Shayla sat down. Sorcha didn't have to talk to her, or even stop at all, she could go on playing for all Shayla cared. But at least this could be construed as an effort to "make nice" with her sibling on some level - at least it did in Shayla's eyes.

Giving the youth one look of venom before she came any closer, Shayla turned her gaze away, looking into the distance for a second until she regained control of her expression. She wrinkled her nose again, wrapping her long and bushy tail around her hunched back legs, a silver statue in a field of grass.

(ooc - it's pish. but i aint got time for anything different. oh yeah, and, i said i might not be nice right? =P)

[Sorcha]

The she-whelp spun in circles as she chased after bugs of all sorts, pouncing and frolicking through the long grass, completely unaware, at least for the moment, of the older silver Varg sitting in the background. Sorcha giggled and darted this way and that, not concerned with the idea that she was one of three cubs in the pack, and the only one who seemed to be taking advantage of such a wonderful day. But the cub was soon distracted as the winds changed and brushed a slightly familiar scent across her nasal cavities.

She whirled around again, or at least until the statue of her older sister came into view. Sorcha hadn’t met her personally, but their father had mentioned her a few times. He had said that she looked like their mother too and Sorcha couldn’t help but squeak a bark to tell her sister that she was there.

Her grin didn’t last long, faltering at the look of distaste that came upon Shayla’s face. It stung that her older sibling would look at her like that, but they were siblings, and it vexed her as she pondered if she might’ve done something in this short amount of time to upset the older fae. Sorcha ducked back into the grass for a moment, eyeing the fae with amber flecked eye.

Shayla had turned away from her now, showing her back in a manner that Sorcha thought wasn’t all that welcoming. The whelp was torn between going to see her and staying back in the safety of the tall grasses. A little lump formed in her throat, but she swallowed it down and padded toward her sister, paws thumping the ground as she moved clumsily toward the matching body. “Hello, isn’t it pretty today?” She tried to sound enthusiastic about the beautiful day as sunlight streamed radiantly through the billowy cumulous clouds that fluffed the blue of the skyline.

The cub’s tail wagged, black tipped for now as she was in her youngest days, though surely, as the black upon her ears, they would ebb away to leave her looking more like Cwen than she did even now.

[[Sorry it took so long.]]

[Shayla]

Shayla fought the immense temptation to grin wildly at the faltering steps she had put into her sister's happy steps. Mastering her expression with some iron will, Shayla's cold eyes surveyed her younger sister who was padding closer to her on clumsy puppy paws.

Her tail wagged, and Shayla looked up at the blue skies, seeming that she was giving thought to the beauty of the day, in fact her thoughts dwelt on the pup at her paws. Last whelp of her mother. Law and logic suggested that Shayla should love her sister, they were blood after all. But Shayla could find none of the love she felt for her littermates, and Zeth was, well Zeth was evil - but still Shayla felt some form of bond with him, and wanted to try and turn him back to the "good" he had been destined to be, if he had not been bourne away by the jaws of evil.

Perhaps the link was slow in the coming, or maybe it would never come at all, but Shayla did not know, or would not admit, her reasons for not liking her sibling. Maybe it was because some part of Shayla was bitter that Sorcha had survived and Cwen had not, maybe she was jealous that she was no longer Cwen and Draeg's only daughter, maybe she was jealous that Sorcha was young and carefree and did not feel the weight of the world as Shayla had recently. Maybe it was because Shayla was becoming bitter and twisted. There were lots of reasons, but as Shayla stared into the heavens, her mother came into her mind, and Shayla felt a pang of guilt.

Sighing, Shayla allowed the weight of her still raw grief to push her down on the ground, and she lay there with her head on her paws. Sad grey eyes looked at the pup and a sad smile drew itself across her maw.

"It is a lovely day." She answered finally. The guilty voice in her head had won for now, she had to at least try better to be nice to her sister, and maybe friendship and the bond would come. Maybe. But for Cwen's memory, and for their father, Shayla felt that she must at least try. "What have you been up to today Sorcha? Any mischeif?" Shayla knew that when she had been Sorcha's age, the answer to the latter question would have been a 'no' with a sly smile, which always meant 'yes of course, but I'm not about to tell you. It's a secret.'

ooc - ok, i have limited time, so this is pants, but it will have to do. i meant to draw the whole, not-nice thing out a little longer. but im too lazy for that now

[Sorcha]

“No, none yet.” Sorcha answered in a blissfully truthful voice. She smiled happily, sitting back on her puppy haunches and gazing at her sister’s nose. Wolves wouldn’t look directly into each other’s eyes, and Sorcha had been around long enough to have learned this rule, it made the other rather tense, and she didn’t want to chase away her only sister. “I’m really not sure what kind of stuff to do today.”

She was soon laying across from her sister. Mimicking the way that Shayla was laying, and the two looked a lot alike as they were lying in the sun. A major difference was the gold fleck and larger size of Shayla, while Sorcha was still young and her pelt thusly darker. Her plume thumped against the ground as she pondered thoughts of playing with her sister, she really hadn’t seen Shayla until now, the only reason why she knew who she was, would be the scent that the fae carried upon her.


//Sorry... it sucks I know...//

[Shayla]

(ooc - whoa, so sorry for the long wait. I completely forgot about this thread.)

Shayla wrinkled her nose thoughtfully, as much as she hated to admit it, Sorcha's puppishness, and the fact that the little faemme had admitted to no mischief accomplished as of yet, it stirred something deep inside of the silverine faemme that Shayla had thought was dead. Her sense of humour, and need for fun. Lately she had been rather malicious and catty, and that had been her outlet of mischief, but perhaps she shoudl indulge in some good-natured fun.

Staring at her sister on this level, didn't make her seem so small, and as Sorcha lay down in the exact way Shayla was, the silverine faemme could not help but be reminded about how she had done such a thing with Cwen. Shayla instantly pushed that thought away, and hung on tightly to the thought she had had hold of earlier.

She smiled wryly. "You know, when I was your age, I used to torture and play such tricks on my brothers, our brothers." Shayla corrected, her wicked grin at remembering such mischief fell back into a sad and confused smile. "But since they're not here, they aren't offering themselves as easy targets..." The other target had usually been her father, but he was busy, and as of late Shayla wasn't sure if he'd be able to hack the joke - but more to the point, Shayla had absolutely no idea where he was.

Shayla cocked her head to the side. Almost pitying her little sister. Shayla had grown up with three feisty littermates, and there had not been a single dull moment. The grey faemme simply could not imagine growing up any other way.

(ooc - overdue, and pants to boot... sorry!!)