Newcomer-- Roaring Waters [[open!]]

[Aiyana]

She was in a new land.

Unfamiliar, a different sort of land than that she was used to. She had been closely associated with snow in her puphood, then on to dense forest with patches of desert within, that which had been her previous pack's. This land was nice. A little bit of everything, with the scent of life all around her.

She had been wandering for so long. Many cycles of the moon had passed as she wandered, so many she had lost count. She wanted a home, a place where she was welcome. But she was hesitant; how would she know who was trustworthy and who was not? She was not a varg that trusted easily.. not anymore. The Bloodstorm pack has seen to it that the fae did not easily trust.

But still she remembered, so clear that it could be unreal, a memory that long had passed into the back of her mind. She remembered a mother, a father. Brothers, sisters, and pack-mates of numerous proportion. And one wolf, so huge and kind she only had to debate now had been the alpha of the pack. Her birth-pack.. her first and only true home. The packlands of Bloodstorm had not been home. She had felt as a stranger, as if she had been trying to fit her lithe form, petite as it was, in a small crack in the ground. Some parts of her fit, but they were not many. She had been there because that had been all she knew. But she escaped those bloodthirsty monsters little worse for wear, with a stubborn streak and a more prominent temper.

And here she was, wanting to find a home. Surely, they would not make her join a pack completely until she got to know its members. ...Right? All she could do was try. The scent of other wolves was prominent in these woods. More scents than she could count meshed with the smells of the forest. Lush greenery, wet earth.. it had rained recently too. Perhaps yesterday or the day before. The moonlight bathed everything; a near-full moon was overhead. And it was slightly chilly.

The fae moved at a steady pace, a light trot. Dry leaves crunched beneath petite, small paws as she walked, and her gaze swiveled to and fro, ready with her senses alert and body tense in case someone happened to attack her. She followed a peculiar sound; a roaring of immense proportion, curiously. And as she came in sight of the waterfall, she halted where she was, staring in awe at the sight before her.

She had never seen a waterfall, only heard of them. She believed them to be myth.. that is, until now. She stared for a good minute or so, awestruck by the evident power that water had, that it would cause such a sound that could be heard from miles around, that twigs and leaves in the water were getting sucked under beneath the shower of water. She moved forward to the edge of the calmer side of the lake, stopping at the water's edge as she bent to drink.

The fae was petite, slender, but medium size for a female wolf. Her thick, fluffy fur was a mixture that could only be called calico, the colors of black, white, grey, red, and brown all intermixed in her fur. The socks on her paws were a honey hue, and her chest and underbelly were white. Her face was primarily black and silver, the dark hue surrounding her molten golden eyes. Her tail was erect enough for one to classify her as independent, but not so high as to be foolishly declaring herself superior. Despite her size, there was something in those level, serious eyes that suggested that she would be a force to be reckoned with.

OoC|| My Aiya hasn't interacted with anyone yet, so this one is open to anyone who wishes to RP. ^^

[Oren]

The early night had been still and dark before the moon rose. Few creatures of any kind were abroad, most bedding down in their respective dens or nests for the night. The late autumn chill has begun to creep into the great land of Transylvania, bringing with it rumors and tales of the winter to come. In these lands there are few places one can escape from the brutality of Wolfbane's season. Deep snows and biting winds are a thing to be reckoned with in the late moons of the year. That is all yet to come, but the teasing breeze and growing chill of the nights speak of the season to come. With the rising of the moon one follows its example and gets up from his night-claimed territory with the air of one who has slept as much as he can for the time being and cannot help but yearn for adventure. The renegade adopted son of Ayame of List is wandering again. His adopted mother has almost fully healed from her earlier encounter with Deor's Drappa, and can afford to be without him for an extended period of time.

Padding across the familiar territory softly, large padded paws making almost no sound as he moves, the rust-colored young mann thinks of his family and his place at this time in his life. When he was young he and his brother were the only ones he ever cared about. There was no need for any others. Little or no memory of his birth pack haunted his dreams, and he had always been a quick learner - needing such skills to survive as a cub with only a brother for protection and comfort. Now... well, things have changed a great deal. Ever since the two brothers met Ayame they have had a family again. Oren has grown close to the ebon fae, but strangely enough he spends less and less time with Styr. The brothers have not completely grown apart, but no longer depend wholly on each other for the necessities of every day life. Oren must only guess that Styr has been in the List territory more than he, staying with Ayame. Well, it is likely that Oren will see much of his mother and brother this winter. If it is anything like the usual winters, it will be brutal and bone-chilling, especially in the high mountain territory of List, and Oren will need to stay within the pack borders, knowing that to do otherwise would be foolish and perhaps fatal.

For now, the only snow is in the very highest mountains and one cannot truly say that winter has fallen. Though many trees have lost all their leaves, there is still a semblance of autumn color dotted around the lower lands, and the air will grow much colder before it begins to warm up again for spring. Walking, chestnut-tinted eyes looking far ahead of him, Oren has no specific destination in mind. The young mann is... you could say, going for an extended walk. He is content for the moment. Left to his own desires he has little to worry about. Ahh, the lake is close. One of his favorite places to go. Picking up his pace until he is loping steadily toward the still waters at the opposite end from the rushing waterfall, Oren glimpses the first reflection of the near-full moon in the still surface of the water. Such a beautiful sight that is - and one of the reasons he so loves this area. Another is... well, he was just about to think that the other is that there are rarely any other vargs here - but that thought had been interrupted by the fact that it would be untrue. A scent had come to him just then. An unfamiliar scent - that of a young fae coming toward him...

Stopping and settling himself down on his lithe haunches, Oren gazes along the moonlit shoreline, seeing a shape padding his way. Feeling the faint arrogance of many young things he decides to let her speak first. In his opinion he is not the stranger here, and need not speak first. Let her state her purpose if she so wishes, and if he feels like it, he will follow her example.

((OOC - lovely post ^_^ I hope you don't mind me popping in.))

[Aiyana]

It was beautiful here. And the rushing falls were peaceful after one recovers from the first shock of the sound. But here, away from the side of the immense lake that served as the falls' plungepool, it was more of a background noise, such like owls hooting in the night or crickets chirping. It was actually kind of nice.

It was apparent that, in her amazed stupor of taking in the falls, she had not sensed the young varg's presence. His scent flowed into her nostrils slowly, and she raised her head from drinking quickly, her body stiffening as she jumped. She then blinked at him several times, her expression carefully unreadable. But the caution that her eyes held was unmistakable. She took in his scent once more, and stared at him for a bit as she sized him up. He was young, yes. Younger than she. But youth was not such a thing that would always determine one's abilities. She had been a prime example of such, back when...

She pushed the unpleasant thoughts aside as she moved forward, soft as a shadow, moving her lithe body into a strip of moonlight that made her calico pelt seem to glow and glisten. Her molten golden eyes still stared at the youth.

"Hello," she replied softly, in a tone that was unmistakably feminine, but it had a sort of gruffness to it uncommon to one who was raised in a pack with other females present. She paused after the greeting, and dipped her head in acknowledgement of him. "Am I on someone else's packlands?" Her voice was not fearful, as if she feared to anger someone.. but merely inquisitive. She rested back on her haunches but sat straight, still looking at him as she waited for a response.

OoC|| Thank you.. and not at all! I was looking for someone to RP with.. I was bored. ^^; Thanks for the reply. And sorry it took several days, love. Been busy with finals-studying and all that jazz.

[Oren]

It seems that the fae didn't notice his presence until she was close to him - a fact that puts a small, barely noticeable smirk on the auburn mann's already mischievous face. It is well to be cautious in the lands of Transylvania. True, there are quite a few friendly vargs - pack vargs or kerls - but there are also many vargs to be feared that roam freely throughout the open lands. Luckily for them both, it seems neither of the two strangers have ill intentions toward the other - but anything more remains to be seen. Narrowing his cedar-wood eyes, Oren looks boldly at the fae, sizing her up. She is not old, certainly, but at least slightly older than he. He is often a good judge of others' abilities, and certainly knows not to act too cocky and assume others are weak, but for some reason he cannot very well tell the age of this stranger. One thing he can tell about her is that she is not from these lands. Her scent is different from any he has ever come across, and it is not hard to tell that she is not familiar with the territory. Orange eyes boldly meet golden as she reaches him and speaks. Her words only go to further confirm his earlier thoughts. Any varg from Transylvania would know where the packs held their territories and what areas are kerl lands - open to any, and free reign to all who are bold enough to venture out of their own territory.

Waiting just long enough after her words to show that he is not bothered to be especially polite, and that he is used to living on his own and fending for himself, Oren remains sitting still, his tail swishing slowly behind him in an unconcerned stance. He foregos the greeting, feeling rather cocky and not finding it in him to care about pleasantries. "This is kerl land." His voice is almost fully matured, and holds the deep tones that will be his when he has no more growing to do. It is not that he means to be rude or unkind, or that he wishes to make a bad impression, but the young mann has never been one for protocol, and shows respect to those he believes have earned it from him - or those who could easily kill him if he played the fool. Oren is no fool, and makes sure in all his dealings with stronger, older vargs, to portray that image - but in this case, it seems somewhat unnecessary.

He is curious about this fae. She has the tones of one who has been often on her own, and also has had to learn to fend for herself. Perhaps the two of them are not so different as would be quite possible - but then again, she could be his complete opposite. That is the thing with strangers. They only stop being strangers when you learn something about them - and for now, he knows very little about this fae - there is only so much he can pick up from her appearance, scent, and voice. Deciding that he might as well say something else besides the brief answer to her question he voices his thoughts once more, his voice still somewhat quiet and unconcerned. "You are not from these lands. Any varg from Transylvania would know the Lake is no territory belonging to packs." Even the first sentence is a statement. He would not ask something he already knows, but wonders if perhaps this fae will reveal a little more about herself in the next moments - if his words will lead to the gaining of more knowledge about her, or if they will shut her off and keep her from saying any more. Gazing coolly at her, Oren waits, his dark chestnut eyes watching her, unblinking...

((No worries - I'm afraid I took a while too. I apologize. I hope your finals went well! Also, sorry this is a bit of a strange post - if you need me to add in anything to make it easier for you to reply, please let me know!))

[Aiyana]

At the smirk, her gaze flashed ever so slightly with some unrecognizable emotion, and her tail switched in uncomfortable annoyance at his mere answering of her question.

He reminded her of the rare pups that had stumbled upon the old pack, those that had not been taught a lesson yet. Not that manners had played any particular role in the elders of the Bloodstorm pack, but it was expected that the youngsters paid respect to the elders, if not in manners in fearing for one's life. Not that this one was that much younger than she in looks, but it was what her mind had first gone to.

The younger, cockier yearlings aforementioned had often singled her out to be a target of insult and ridicule, she being the only female. That is, they had done so until they had been taught a lesson that they could not forget. Sometimes she had felt herself slipping to the level of her packmates, of enjoying the younlings' fear of her wrath and the uncomortable look that they had when her unusual eyes had landed on them. It had taken a lot for her to untrain herself from such.

But even so, the unmistakable pride in his voice, alongside cockiness, made her first reaction to be to draw herself up, to sit straighter as she eyed him almost coldly for a moment. The cold look slowly seeped from her eyes then, being replaced with that of indifference, but even so curiosity. It was as if she were looking at herself.. one who had fended for and defended herself growing up. Maybe that was all that it was. But no, he was still a little cocky. Even so, she retained her stance, subtly letting him know that neither would she be completely and utterly polite.

"No, I am not from around here.. Transylvania, you said? I am from farther north than here." She stopped at this, telling him with her eyes that she was not going to reveal more unless directly asked it. And at the fact that she was on neutral land looked to neither comfort nor make her uneasy. She showed no reaction whatsoever.

Her golden eyes flicked away to peer into the woods once again over his shoulder, wondering if he was alone. But his stance somehow told her that she was, confirming her suspicion. She looked back to him, molten eyes locking with his deep cedar-browns. "Are you a part of a pack around here?"

OoC|| Noo, it was fine. ^^ And my finals were a breeze for the most part... haha, I think my professors decided to give the poor students a break because of the hard semester we'd been handed because of the hurricane. x.x;

[Oren]

Not missing the strange fae's partially indignant, partially prideful physical response to his curt response to her question, Oren remains in a relaxed pose, looking at her through hazel-orange eyes. He is not a fool, but could, and most likely should indeed, show more respect to strangers. The young mann grew up almost completely on his own, with only a brother for company, and any other varg the two of them came across was a stranger. Back then he was either respectful of such vargs - if he thought or knew they could hurt him if they so wished, or playfully careless, if he thought almost positively that they meant him no harm. Things have changed since then, but only in some ways. Now, if he came across a varg that threatened him, he would either behave respectfully toward them or try to escape safely. This fae, however, doesn't seem like a threat, and Oren is in a rather disrespectful frame of mind. At the moment he feels that respect must be earned, and she is the stranger - the one with no connections in these lands. If she somehow was able to harm him or gravely insult him, he has at least a brother and a fierce mother to back him - if not an entire pack. At some point during this encounter with this fae he might behave more like a mature varg that knows to respect strangers, but for now... why should he?

Staring boldly back into her seemingly liquid-golden eyes, Oren sees the emotions there as they flash through. Cold annoyance and perhaps anger is replaced by apathy. It as if at this point she has given up caring about his disrespectfulness. He does not catch the curiosity in her eyes at this point, however. It is hidden, and though he knows there must be emotions in this fae that he cannot readily see, he does not know what they are, or any way that he might find out. She interests him for some reason. Perhaps it is because he has not come across many other strangers in his occasional wanderings, or perhaps it is because she is a stranger - not only to him, but to all of Transylvania as well - which means she is very alone. He knows what it is like to be alone - and to feel lonely or afraid. He doesn't like wanting to know where he is and where he is going, and have no knowledge of either - and it is likely she knows neither, even if she doesn't mind as much as he. Deciding that perhaps it wouldn't hurt him to be a little more polite to this she-varg, he dips his head in acknowledgment of her question, as well as in answer. "Aye, this land is called Transylvania. There are a few packs in this land, with various allegiances..." Tilting his head and looking at her sideways, he continues, his voice a soft rumble. "May I ask, why have you come here? It is not as if there are not other vargs who come to Transylvania from outside, but it is not as if there is anything I know of that is especially interesting or wonderful - no more so than other places in this world..."

Chestnut eyes do not miss the strange fae's glance into the woodlands behind Oren, and he since he doubts there are any vargs behind him that he hasn't noticed, he wonders what exactly she is visually seeking. Mentally shrugging, he flickers up a brow at her question before nodding. "I am part of the List pack here. I am sure, since you did not know the name of this land, that the name of my pack means nothing to you. But I will say we are mountain dwellers... and are a proud pack - and our pride is well deserved..."

((Eh, sorry so short... it's late-ish, and my brain is fizzley ))

[Aiyana]

Believe it or not, Aiyana was normally very polite. It was just the circumstances she was 'raised' under that caused her to automatically go on the defensive when faced with someone who seemed to be full of himself or herself. Or even someone unpolite. But as he stared into her eyes, she saw a change.. she didn't know what it was, but it was almost as if he was searching her. She stared right back, trying to decipher the emotions in his own eyes, and she could see that they pretty much matched her own. She definitely saw the hardness that she recognized, one that could only be from fending for oneself. Perhaps he was more like her than she thought. And there was unmistakable curiosity there. She watched as they seemed to soften abruptly, and he dipped his head respectfully.

The quick change in tactic had her blinking at him in slight confusion, but she hid it quickly from her face. But it didn't stop it from remaining in her eyes. She allowed herself to be taken in by the topic, definitely relaxing more than she had been before. She tilted her head to the side upon hearing about multiple packs.

"There is more than one pack in the area...? How in Tor's name do all of you get along..?" her voice is almost incredulous, she knew well the relations that most packs had with each other, cold indifference, even hostility. And with friendships and enemyships (so not a word but shh ^.^) springing up and ever changing, it was nigh impossible for all of them to get along, unless this was indeed a perfect land.

His next question caught her off guard. Whether it was the fact that he was being polite about it or that he had asked civilly with genuine curiosity, she was blinking slightly. She replied in a more musical sort of voice, looking him in the eyes thoughtfully as she did. "Anywhere is better than the place that I came from.. so far as I can see, this land is beautiful. And after wandering for so long, it seems like paradise. I simply wish a place to call home.. and possibly a pack to run with. I am wearied of the constant running that being alone entails. You're always on someone else's lands, always finding two-leggers trying to hunt you.." she dipped her head, looking weary for a sudden moment.

She tilted her head to the side, a slight smirk coming to her maw. "Prideful..? No.. of course not. I would never have guessed that from looking at you.." her voice was lighter, teasing, as her eyes glittered with good humor. She waved her tail lightly on the ground, smiling as she looked to the other.

OoC|| You're doing wonderfully. Hehe, did you have a good Christmas, then?

[Oren]

It is strange for Oren to meet someone like him - true, he knows very little about this fae, and it is not as if she is completely like him - but from what he can guess about her, he would say she has had a somewhat similar background. Since he met Ayame, his adopted mother, as a cub, he has met many different vargs, most notably members of the List pack, including their proud Dragga, and none of them have been like him. The rusty orange-brown mann has always been mischievous and playful, but had the maturity of one having to grow up too fast because of the hardships of life. There are not as many pack vargs with that experience - none so far that he has met. It is not as if they are soft, no way - there is sometimes very little prey in the mountains near List, and the winters are always long and harsh... but the members of the mountainous pack have grown up with something he was long without... a family. He can understand being alone, and being lonely, so, this, if nothing else except perhaps a little conscience twinge make him realize that there is no cause to be impolite to this fae - especially since she has no others to back her in case of trouble, and even if the two do not become friends here today, it would not hurt her to have a somewhat friendly acquaintance.

The fae's stance becomes more relaxed after this, and Oren is glad she noticed and responded to his change in attitude. Settling himself back on his haunches he nods at her first question and then responds in an even tone to her queries. "Transylvania is quite a big land - each pack has their own territory marked with clear boundaries, and all the packs have allegiances - allies, enemies, and neutralities... So, to answer your question, we don't all get along... But we aren't always at war with each other either. There definitely are wars and skirmishes between entire packs and sometimes just between individuals... but for the most part everyone keeps to themselves or within the ties of alliances." It is not necessarily the most ideal situation, but considering that there is peace for the most part, the Transylvanian packs could have it a whole lot worse.

Tilting his head thoughtfully at her answer to his question, Oren can't help but wonder where she came from. Most vargs in these lands were born here - true, he has heard of others that came from outside the country, but Aiyana is the first he has personally met. Transylvania is large enough to have plenty of territory to explore even for most vargs even if they happen to be especially curious and long-lived, so he has never especially heard of vargs leaving... but apparently there is enough here to draw others from outside. Outside is the unknown, and though that does not particularly bother him, despite his curiosity, Oren has no desire to go past the Carpathian mountains. Though he wonders where she came from and what was wrong with it, since "anything" would be better, he does not push the matter unduly. "As a matter of curiosity, where did you come from?" Nodding in total agreement, he looks around before turning his gaze back to meet hers. "Ah yes, that is definitely true. In my opinion, I do not see how there could be any land more beautiful than this. There is every kind of landscape, and few of them are less than breathtaking." It is possible that such words from a seemingly less-than-courteous young mann would be surprising to another varg, but Oren has always been observant... and grateful for what he has.

A place to call home... Yes, that is what he had wanted quietly when he was young... It is another similarity he feels with this fae, and something else he can easily understand. He nods to show this understanding before speaking, his voice softer this time. "I... understand. It is not easy being on your own. From my experiences the Kerl life is rarely kind... You shouldn't have to worry about wandering onto pack territory without knowing it - the packs here mark their borders well. You would have to be a varg without your sense of smell to miss them." A small smile appears on the mann's face, making his somewhat youthful appearance seem older, more knowledgeable - and more handsome. The smile grows more into a grin at her playful words and he flickers up a brow. "Well, I haven't been part of List all that long - so it's possible that the... pride is just me, as well. Oh, and speaking of "me" - I'm called Oren... apparently because of the color of my coat. Now that we've decided not to hate each other, what's your name?"

((Yes! It was quite lovely! ^_^ But the break went too fast... as always. How was yours?))

[Aiyana]

It was evident to her now that she had completely misjudged this young mann. As should be obvious with the appearance of the fae's personality, she did this more often than was healthy due to her skeptical view of others. This skepticism often butted heads with her fervent desire for a home and a family, which truthfully did not help her crusade much. But Oren, at least, seemed to see through her outer guards before she even let them down, a fact that she was not sure whether to be comforted or wary by.

She shook her head at his description of the territory, however brief, and was nevertheless amazed. "Truthfully this is a large area, but very highly populated. I have never seen or heard of anything like it in my life," she admitted, her golden gaze lingering on his own as he spoke. But as he looked to her and asked where she came from, she appeared to think carefully for a moment or so. She then answered him, her musical voice thoughtful.

"I know not exactly where I am from, as I left home far too young to know, really." she shifted slightly, then continued. It was clear that this was a question she had asked before to herself often. "But I know that it had to be further north than here, for it was colder, and I would not have gotten this thick of a coat without good cause. And I remember that my birth-pack was primarily of lighter shades, in my fuzzy memories. Lighter colors indicate cooler climates, and the packs' need to blend in with snow. So.. I know that that doesn't exactly answer your question... I wish I knew where I was from, really, I do." There was genuine wistfulness in her expression for a moment, but it vanished as he further described his land, her tail thumping the ground slightly as she smiled. There was unmistakable pride in his voice at his description, a pride that she silently envied. He was confident in his proclaimation of his home's beauty, and she wished again that she had a home to be proud of.

She nodded to his expression; so she was right. He had known the life she lived. And though he seemed to have a rough, cocky exterior, there was no escaping the happiness, if not contentment, that radiated from his very body, particularly his pecuiliar eyes. Pecuiliar, yet handsome and full of life all the same. Her mood lightened again as he smiled under her teasing, and she smiled in return. "Pride is certainly not uncommon.. as unbelievable as it may be.." she paused with a grin to let him know she was kidding, "I posess an extreme amount of pride as well. Too much, in most cases." She met his gaze again as he formally introduced himself, smirking at the comment following his name.

"I am Aiyana, and I know not what my namesake is. But those friends I have had in my lifetime called me Aiya for short, so, as you have said, we have decided not to hate each other for now.. so you may call me that if you so desire. As it appears that we are well on our way to becoming friends, I'm sure it might be fitting." She winked slightly, her eyes dancing with a happiness at her statement. She may have found a friend at long last.

OoC|| Very much the same.. too short. But got to visit family that I only see once a year, so was fun all the same. Though I wish that the weather would make up its mind.. the constant weather changes are making everyone sick, including me. *lives in Texas* It's all like, in the 70s-80s one day, then drops to 35-40 the next day. It's tiresome...

[Oren]

The two of them are more alike than either had noticed at first glance - or first words. They both grew up having to depend mainly on their own skills and intuitions - and learned never to be too open or friendly with a completely unknown stranger. Luckily for their relationship, they did not learn too far beyond that lesson, and are still quite willing to make new friends and allies if possible. It is interesting for Oren to meet someone who has had experiences similar, yet different than his own. He faintly remembers his family as she does, but he also remembers where he came from, and he has never been completely alone. Even after losing his birth pack, he always had Styr at his side through times of hardship and plenty. He also originated from within Transylvania, and so, even though he never knew much about pack politics, being far removed from them, has never though they were strange. Each pack has its own land, and though there certainly are skirmishes, battles, and sometimes full-out wars, Transylvania is, for the most part, blessed by relative peace. He nods at her amazed words and glances around as if from his vantage point he can see all of the territory and the packs within their chosen boundaries. Aye, it is large... but I have never thought of it as highly populated. You can travel many days without seeing another varg or running into a pack's boundaries. I guess I have nothing to compare it to though, I've never been out of Transylvania. It's always been big enough for me."

Her answer to his question makes the young mann wonder further about this fae. If she left home too young to remember where it was, she must not have been alone - or she surely would not have survived... But all evidence at this point tells the tale differently. She is alone, and there is nothing to say that she has - or has had - company at any time throughout her journey. Oren rarely thinks of his birth pack. He has always been fairly easily satisfied, and knows there is little good in wonderings or sorrow at their loss. Now that he has a mother and a pack family, as well as his brother, he feels there is no need, at least for now, to wish for something he cannot have. Nodding slowly, he pictures a land covered perpetually in snow. It is reasonable for her to believe she came from the North, for North means snow, and colder temperatures - much like List for much of the year. Smiling a faintly crooked smile at the fae, Oren's eyes convey a soft sympathy, but he makes sure his expression is not overly sympathetic. From experience he knows that pride and sympathy often do not go together, and now that the two of them have decided to at least tolerate each other, he does not want to ruin the possibility of friendship.

"That must be tough... But, if you're thinking of staying in Transylvania permanently, there are, as I have told you, numerous packs, and most of them would be willing, and often eager, for a new member. As you have said, this land is beautiful, and with its beauty is the fact that it's not impossible to find a family here." Pausing to scratch an ear, Oren looks back up at the fae as he is finished and grins cheerfully at her, and winks as she speaks of pride. "And I would never know that you are proud. Indeed, perhaps we are more alike than I first would have thought." Realizing now that she does not yet know his name, he introduces himself, and grins again at her own introduction, quite pleased that she likes him well enough to include him as a possible friend. "Well, Aiya, now that we've learned a bit about each other, I'll say that I'm pleased to meet you." The young, playful mann returns her wink before stretching and shaking himself, the rusty-orange and burnt chestnut hairs of his coat catching the sunlight and gleaming in a tame semblance of fire as he moves.

((OOC: So sorry it took me so long to reply, and also that this post is more-or-less a repeat of my last one. I'm in a bit of a slump, RP-wise at the moment...
Aww, I hope you're feeling better!))