Forward dated about a week! For
@Anselm <3
Her sickness had taken much from her. Even as she began to recover her voice and her strength, Melody struggled to overcome the lethargy that clung to her in the aftermath. She slept often, and was uncharacteristically forgetful during her lessons. It would pass, she was certain.
But she was impatient. So she took to one of the meadows that flanked Akashingo, determined that she would push herself today and become stronger for it. The berry bushes drew her attention immediately. Melody began to pick through them with careful judgment, ever a picky eater; rotten berries simply wouldn't do.
The scent of pronghorn pulled Anselm from Paleo, petering out into the faintest trickle by the time he reached the flatlands. He'd lost the scent somewhere in a patch of sun-dried timothy.
A new scent took command of his interest: wolf, by the measure of his nose. Another scent clung to Melody's path that Anselm recognized immediately as the cloying scent of sickness. Mahler had taught him this once, a lesson Anselm would never forget.
He contemplated pursuing at all. At last his curiosity won out, and Anselm found himself nosing along the trail until he came upon a delicate young wolf perusing berries with care.
He was tall, and his fur was pale. Those were the first things Melody noticed about the man who approached her, but as she stopped to observe him, she noticed more: that his eyes were gilded and intense, that his posture and musculature spoke of a hard life, that he smelled of others and other places she didn't know. Intrigued, she stepped back from the bush she'd been nosing through and offered a warm smile.
Hi,
Melody glanced to the berries, then back to him. After these?
Surely he hadn't stopped just for her. Or had he? She flushed slightly at the thought, and told herself she was overthinking it.
Normally the wolves Anselm encountered were much like himself: gruff, standoffish, or disinterested in him. When Melody's gaze fell upon him and measured the full swing of his body, he felt his skin burn.
Her fur shone softly, longer at the ends and padding a luxuriously long tail. Anselm was captured for a moment by the arresting sunflower of her gaze.
No.
He sniffed after the berries; some had the sunny complexion of ripeness, others looked green and sour. I came to see vhat you vere doing.
Her encounter with Khusobek had given her a new appreciation for the company of a handsome man. Melody had never thought overmuch of men, hardly noticed any of them before Senmut caught her eye. Some were nice to look at, sure, but she didn't usually get attached. She didn't usually have a reason to. Now, she was beginning to think it might be nice to keep one around — recreationally.
Melody did nothing to hide the glint of admiration in her gaze, but for now left it at that. I just thought it would be nice to get out for a bit,
She explained easily, stepping closer. I live in Akashingo, just that way.
She pointed her muzzle briefly toward the Mesa. I'm just getting over this weird sickness - I had to stay in my room the whole time. I told myself I'd go somewhere when I started to get better; do something interesting.
"nice to keep one around... recreationally" l M F A O
There were few wolves his age in Paleo, and all of them male. Anselm had the unique fortune of annoying each of them -- all for different reasons that boiled down to one ultimate one: Anselm was arrogant.
She motioned to the red mesas in the distance. Anselm found himself studying the inviting line of her muzzle; the gentle nature of the stop along the bridge of her nose, how her eyes were framed perfectly by contrasting dark --
And then she looked back to him, so he looked swiftly away.
Vhat was the sickness?
He shifted slightly back as she affirmed his suspicions, but not enough that any appreciable distance between them grew.
Vhat is Akashingo like?
LMAO she's terrible
Her ears fell slightly when she noticed that he'd shifted back, but Melody tried not to let it sour her mood.
I'm not sure. But I don't think it's contagious anymore, or Tavina would never have let me out of my room,
She assured him softly.
Akashingo is - well, it's complicated.
She frowned a little.
I'm a priestess there. Or, well, I'm supposed to be.
More often than not, Melody still felt — out of place. That feeling was beginning to dissipate, but her sickness had been an ill-timed setback.
He realized his involuntary shift back had been noticed. He was, selfishly, only sorry for a second.
His ears turned to receive this news of Akashingo. A priestess?
He leveled the fairness of her features with a long, apprising look. Are you one of those religious nuts?
Her eyes narrowed. We're not - nuts,
Melody said a little hotly, thinking of Senmut. She was more offended on his behalf than her own. If she was honest with herself, she hadn't yet found much attachment to the religion she was meant to follow.
But maybe this was the beginning of the shift she had been waiting for. Gods are important in Akashingo, that's all,
She added, ears still tilted back in displeasure. But I'm not crazy or anything. None of us are.
Anselm lived a life relatively untouched by zealots. As such, it afforded him little grace or patience for those who found religion.
He frowned. By all accounts he found Melody pleasing to look at. She was his age, her limbs were lean and her fur held the most generous molten sheen to it. Objectively, she was pretty down to her dark little claws.
But she was religious.
He considered what she'd said carefully. Finally, he decided not to let his more bullish side show -- for now.
Vhat are your gods like?