Wolf RPG

when you think of the ocean, do you ever think of eating a hot plate pancakes next to it? with some slathered salty butter, rich warm syrup and even some sliced fruit and whipped cream? maybe even a cup of coffee to go with it? well, the answer is 'probably not', but Pancakes is found by the ocean today! the proud little butterfly comes to breathe in the coastal breeze again in her life. she often thinks of the bay of San Francisco when she is near the water, though there is no smell of car fumes or the sound of horns and the scuttling shoes of a monkey-evolution gone wrong.

no, here in these wilds, life is simple, and perhaps its most perfect form. the sun is certainly bright, even in the earlier part of the day, though its beams did not blind Pancakes as she flew. the mist of the clouds tickled her little black feet as she continues to flap those tangerine wings closer and closer to the sea cliffs that is lovingly called Sapphique.

and through all of the roar from the ocean, Pancakes sings to herself as she continues to push herself up and up to get over the several spiky points in the severe rock wall that kept this pack land safe. 

"if you wanna ride, you can call by
and see me!"
(she actually heard this song on the road away from the city)

"i could be home by now!"
(this would make a lovely home for a butterfly, after all)

As a part of their migration, it wasn't uncommon to see butterflies stopping by the freshwater lake at the top of the cliffs in the summer. They came through in the thousands to sip from Glintwater Lake before carrying on their way, to wherever it was up North that they went after that. For two years now, Chacal had seen them flutter through, and seldom took notice when there was one on its own, unless it fluttered directly in her path. It was only when such things happened that she remember she ought to appreciate the simple beauty of such things, and unfortunately, it didn't happen enough. 

She was far too busy with the big things. Managing not only a pack, but children and grief all occupied her mind in both day and night. In dreams she saw everything from the fangs of a bear to the face of packmates whose names she could no longer remember. Kind souls who drifted now more like shadows than memories. But she was offered little respite from everything that needed her time and concentration. Even in moments when she had Suzu step in to keep an eye on the children she had a mind full of thoughts as she strolled along the shore. Food. Heat waves. The possibility of drought. Her missing sons. Her lost mothers. Her sweet new nephews and nieces. Her children who learned new words every day- all of it ran through her mind in a great cluster of emotion, love, and worry. 

A tiny, light voice caught her attention and caused her to freeze. Its timbre was not familiar and she stiffened to hear a voice on the breeze in her home that did not belong to one of her packmates. Quizzically, she had to look up in order to even register where the voice was coming from, though she cottoned onto the melody almost instantly. It wasn't familiar to her- but its cadence was simple, and the melody was conjunct, easy to follow. 

A butterfly singing was a novelty to her- but birds sung, all the time. She'd imitated birdsong before, and while she spoke only in melody, it was extremely rare that she found someone that she could sing with. She was eased from her consuming thoughts by the sudden, unexpected distraction. The butterfly's song was a welcome invitation to the bard. She answered in song, mirroring the melody though her voice was an octave lower. 

"And if you want to fly, you could come out and free me,
you could be home by now."

oh?
Oh?
OH?
OH!

did her ears deceive her? Pancakes takes practically a double take as she spreads her marmalade wings wide, and 

suddenly a squeal of laughter comes from her. this is the first time that anyone has sung back without question, and what a first it is! this ocean coast is familiar to the small butterfly, as she once visited Miette here (and she wondered if the child would attempt to eat her once again if she tried to visit).

this one below her, representing a sense of Egyptian gold, pride, and nightfall owns a voice that Pancakes dares to say she is jealous of! through one verse alone, there is a mending of the sound waves and a melody is achieved despite the louder ocean crashing below.

so Pancakes makes up a game in her head, yes, a game to test the whit of this new bard who has offered her voice with no fuss! she will sing something, say something of an artist's wild paintbrush and see if this creature below can follow, or perhaps even best her at her own imaginary game! there are certainly no rules besides just singing, after all. and Pancakes is about everything but a strict rule follower! so long as this earth-dweller keeps her tunes, Pancakes would assume that she is winning.

so she hooks a sharp turn, coming to make circle around as she drinks in the scent and the notes of this noble woman.

"Save up all the days,
just routine malaise!"
(Honestly, Pancakes has no idea what these words mean)

"Just like yesterday,
I told you I would stay!"
(she told no one she would stay, however...)

The little tiny buzz she heard next was endearing. More what she was used to hearing from insects, though she imagined the bashful fluttering of the butterfly's wings was indicative that she'd flattered the creature. Was she personifying it too much? Normally, she would think more, but like the butterfly, she too craved the musical intimacy of a duet- and when the butterfly began to sing she sat up, forgetting any hesitance she'd had before. 

The butterfly introduced a new melody- one which began with a pleasing symmetry before it rose suddenly, causing her brow to raise. She memorized it, so that she could respond with a similar tune, following the contour of the melody and the rhyme scheme while adding her own words. She had no idea if it suited the meaning of the song- but she would go with her instincts anyway.

"T'ink up all de ways,
de many turn of phrase,"

She prepared for the next line and its ascending melody by drawing in a breath. 

"Set your voice ablaze,
You told me you would stay,"

And now, her chance to pose the next lyrical melody, to see if the butterfly could improvise as well as it could perform. 

"Stay away from emotion and madness,
Stay away from the streets,
For me, for me."