Where to Begin...

@Anemone Another afternoon would find her by the spring’s edge. And for another afternoon, she would find herself glowering at her reflection in the waters. Mane unkempt and fur matted and clumped. She reeked of the earth and of musk- the wild and the Vale. A culmination that had once been pleasant to her nostrils was now a bothersome aroma that made her nose wrinkle with displeasure. She hadn’t been fond of looking at her reflection before, since there were none to impress, she did not care for her presentation. But she felt an ‘inkling’ now to take stock and thoroughly… deeply scrutinize her haggard form. Her lessons with the creek wolf had served to give her much to work toward, not to mention control her weight and mold her stature into a proper testament to her role. Fat still existed, but it was more centered around her hips and shoulders as she needed it to be. The ache of her muscles told of their toning. There was progress, a noticeable slimming at the flank, but still a ways to go. But that was not which held her attention. It was her fur. The matted locks of autumn in disarray. The clumps of shedding hair collecting all over with no sort of order. It was… a disaster. By rights, she could not fathom why her appearance would now bother her as much. It was not as though any of her packmates had negative comments about it. Nor Raheerah for that matter. In fact… that male had little to say regarding her appearance, unless it was to inquire if she was in decent health. He was quiet otherwise… just as they all were. Silent, observant, accepting of her poorly kept state. Though she could not help but feel that they were silently scoffing. Silently judging. Perhaps it was time for upkeep.

Anemone could not help but follow the trail of Xi'nuata. She had been right after all, and it had been her wise words that truly held her over for a time. The L'amour could have become unhinged had it not been for the honest hope the cinnamon woman had instilled, but all was well. And Narcissus had come! It would be no time at all before Hawthorne was found and all would be right in her world.

She found the woman by the water, a gift of Kei, and let out a low whuff to call to her attention. Her tail waved left and right, and her ears lowered in a brief show of respect while her plume remained at a height that promised no challenge. Anemone blinked as she observed briefly, until she understood what she was truly seeing. Truth be told, Anemone had never seen another scrutinize themselves. She had wondered if it was only her who had done that... she did what she could to look the best that she could, being as vain as she was. It was a trait she did not even know she had, one that she could not name. But she was pleased to know that she was not alone in her behavior.

Gunmetal gray moves to stand beside the fiery cinnamon of Xi'nuata, glancing at her own reflection before looking to her companion. Few could pull of the messy, unkempt, wild look her pack mate had... but Xi'nuata did it well, and Anemone felt envy rise within her stomach. She did not know it was a worry of Xi'nuata's, so she spoke without thought, You are very pretty, you know. Anemone's gaze flits to the water, and she wonders if she is all that lovely after all, beside the visage of the wolf she might call a friend.

Her ears flicked back when the other sounded her presence, guiding her muzzle around to take note with care. The ground nearest her received a welcoming pat by her tail as she returned to her gaze to her reflection. Bothered, bi-colored eyes looked beyond the gentle ripple of the waters to the gold and umber that stared back with concern, drifting occasionally as it spied a stray auburn lock. "I am not," she replied quietly, without pause nor thought. One's attractiveness was an ideal that varied from one to another, but she did not see herself within a favoring eye. Her gaze shifted across the water to peer into the reflection of the grey beside her. Groomed, well managed, if not with a few flecks of fallen leaf that blended well into her fur. She gestured toward the reflection wit her muzzle. "You are better for that compliment than I am." Sighing softly, creme stalks folded down by their haunches til she was seated comfortably if not too in contemplation. Huffing quietly, she shook out her matted mane before turning to her companion. "You are your brother are comfortable, then?"

The response is immediate. Anemone does not withdraw, she tilts her head. Whatever would make you say that? She is not insulted that the other disagrees so swiftly, only curious. And when she continues, Anemone smiles brightly. Her appearance was something she took great pride in, great care... but Xi'nuata's was exotic, unique. Her hue was different even from that of her mothers, bright and fiery. It is kind of you to think so, but I do not think I am better suited at all for the compliment. Perhaps you do not see it, she shrugs, But I do not lie. Xi'nuata could not know this. In her youth, perhaps, but she was not suited for lying at all. She was terrible at it. She grinned fiercely when she did lie, and could not so much as look at the other.

Anemone nods to the others question, before looking to their reflections that were side-by-side. She was still standing, so she too fell into a seated position, her tail curling around her haunch comfortably. Anemone pokes gently at her reflection, causing the water to ripple again. I only wonder when the other will show. It is hard to be truly whole without him as well. Hawthorne. She blinks at the water that now began to smooth again, and she thinks to ask, How are you? Your shadow? Anemone wondered if the others disease was due to the very wolf she named, but does not look to see if the other feels any discomfort. Anemone does not want to pry, or be rude... but she offers herself, her ears. It is the best thing she can do.

Beauty was indeed in the eyes of the beholder, this she learned by the preferences of the lead from her prior home. He wanted his females to be rail, skinny things, believing their thin states would make them swifter and more agile when he gave chase to breed with them. But it only make for sickly pups and fragile females. Without proper nourishment, as enriching as the meats were, the pups they carried either did not make the terms or withered away too soon after their struggle to life. He was too blind in his lust to see the cause of his lacking line, but still he believed the sickly mothers were more beauty than the rounded. Perhaps it was the same with Anemone’s impression of her, or vice versa when gazing at their reflections upon the water. "You remind me of the mountains," she felt not hesitation to confess. "Even how the light reflects from your colors is in the same manner that the sun brings light to the darkest face of the mountain. Within are more colors that stand out against darkness, like stars in the night against the sky. There is life where others would see the dull and mundane. And well kept is the mountain that it shines still even after the sun had drifted. That is beautiful to me." Concluding as thus, she thought it better not to argue and instead entertained a more neutral realm of thought; the remembrance of their shadows. “I am sure he will find you,” she offered with the same assurance as she had upon their first encounter. She breathed deeply then, with no fear of the salty spray of the sea to enter her nostrils has it had before. “Time and patience,” she recited the verse as little more than a whisper of a thought. “…time and patience.” Her eyes drifted to the calming film of the spring, again lingering on her pale fur in disarray then releasing a breath of apparent frustration. She would only turn from her image when asked about Raheerah. “I am well,” she replied softly, followed with a near inaudible “As is he. Though he does not speak of his thoughts often for me to assume anything other.” She was grateful for his silence, as his presence provided all the comfort she needed… or so she believed. But an inlaid desire for more of him to be revealed has surfaced seemingly overnight. And while his silence had not bothered her before, it rouse her wary now, fearing that he might be displeased with her… or worse; he did not favor her appearance as much as she believed the others did not either.

Xi'nuata was a true poet. Anemone was more than flattered at the others words, and could a blush be visible surely her companion would have found it upon her! She does not look away, not at all ashamed of what she knew, what she prided herself on, but returns the favor in kind. It is not something she can help, and she is a woman inspired. The mountain reaches for the sun. It's bright light, it's warmth, the way its colors shift as it moves. It is beautiful, but it is wild, and cannot be kept, tamed. You are the wild sun. Sitting beside you, I feel your fire, her eyes are bright, though they twinkle jovially at the last words, teasing, not wanting the tone to be too serious for the woman who seemingly could not accept this truth in herself. But her words were spoken in earnest. Anemone could only hope that the other felt that, though they knew so very little of one another. Xi'nuata was the first female Anemone had ever regarded as interesting and of any merit. So many had nothing to them.

Anemone knew, of course, that she could be counted among that number. It is a truth she has learned to swallow.

The others advice would prove to be sound. I have told myself that, she murmurs, and laughingly continues, Though it would seem I can only find comfort in these thoughts if you think them aloud. You are my peacekeeper, warrior, again the twinkling within her eyes can be seen, but she is terribly serious. Xi'nuata kept her mind at peace somehow. It was inexplicable, given they hardly knew one another. But Xi'nuata was someone who she felt cared, listened. Anemone could be wrong (it was a constant thought, it certainly wouldn't be the first time) but she was a risk-taker. And trusting Xi'nuata was worth the risk; if ever she wanted to learn a lesson, it was from her. Even if it was one of betrayal.

I cannot tell how you feel on that, she admits, but silence is easy to share when you are comfortable with who you are with. There is nothing quite like it. The unconscious synchronization of breathing that could cause heart beats to match; the feeling of unity. But without comfort, silence could be worrying.

She had never been compared to something as brilliant as the sun itself, nor had she been looked on by another in such fond light. Her size might have earned her another’s favor in the past, but her appearance itself- she did not perceive herself as anything special. But hearing Anemone, the sincerity of her voice… she could almost believe that she was indeed an image of splendor. A ‘wild’ sun ablaze to illuminate the mountain. “Th-thank you.” Her ears fell back in modest gesture, near burying within the matted auburn crown. Where it not for the other’s voice continuing, they might have laid their still. But as it was more word of a favoring manner would follow. It was stunning truly as seen by quirked brows and eyes staring wide into the reflective pool. “I mean only to bring comfort as I am able,” she explained. “Just as I would seek comfort of the mind for myself.” She shifted a forepaw against the rim of the spring, dislodging a small stone to fall away and leave a yawning ripple in its wake. “I am comfortable in our silence,” she continued, allowing her ears to bend forward to hear the gentle lapping of the waters against the earthen edges. “It offers a time of contemplation and ease to the mind. But at the same time,” her brows knotted in concern. “I cannot help but let my mind wander with thought. Questions arise that I cannot find an answer to in silence. Worries go unexpressed because I feel they are irrelevant. But just the same, they do matter.” Painfully her gaze skirt across the water’s surface to hold the reflection of her companion. She found it difficult to look at her own maw as the words came forth, seemingly unprovoked by relevant. The dam of her composure cracking with the threat of the brunt eminent. “In our silence I find contentment, but feel incomplete. I dread what thoughts he must possess but am glad I cannot hear them. I take solace in the warmth we share, but too feel the cold of not knowing what truly rests upon his mind. It is… threatening what peace I have within myself. It feels-“ she whined softly “-very unpleasant.”

The sun on her back kept her warm despite the chilling truth of Xi'nuata's words. Anemone knew how silence could plague one, and how the inability to truly feel able to express yourself could become physically painful. Her situation had been different, but the sentiment remained the same. Anemone had found her release, but she wondered if Xi'nuata could find hers.

If it is a worry, it is not irrelevant, Anemone points out, her eyes bright. It might be a little one and thus feel insignificant... but it will poke and prod until you are bruised by its persistence. Worries faded when things were resolved, but nothing would be resolved if Xi'nuata was unwilling to express herself to her shadow. Anemone knew that well enough.

She tilts her head. Perhaps you should ask. We do not need to know everything, but there are things we as individuals must know. It would seem knowing this is important enough to you that I personally think that you should, here, she pauses, her eyes now falling to Xi'nuata's reflection and noting that the radiant woman was looking at her before she finishes, If only for that peace of mind. Anemone keeps her gaze upon her friends reflection, shifting her weight to lean in the direction of the cinnamon wolf, their furs potentially intermingling due to their proximity.

“It is important!” Her voice scaled without meaning to. The steady dam that was her control continued to crack and splinter as she succumbed to the ease of freeing her thoughts from mind. There was a great ease in speaking with Anemone like this, more than she had felt around any other in her lifetime. More so because the autumn woman knew that her companion’s words were true- worry was never an irrelevant notion. The sensation was to warn other of the existence of the possibility of something ‘more’, however minor. It was to be addressed. She knew the woman had been right… but perhaps needed to hear it for herself before believing. “Not only for peace of mind,” she breathed, slipping from her stoic posture to lean against the offered shoulder. “But to know what future I may work towards. To know if…there is a possibility… to be looked upon as an equal.” In pause, she let her claws slip into the earth, feeling for a moment the warmth channeled by the spring before exhaling the held breath through trembling, flared nostrils. “But…it sounds silly when said aloud,” she mumbled offhandedly.