The Sentinels Tam o' Shanter

A pricking of wanderlust touched the pads of Flaris' feet, drawing him to the hem of the Sentinels and onto the boundary that determined where his home ended and the freelands began. Surprise washed over the dryad, as he came to find himself wholly uninterested in crossing the threshold. Leaving Donnelaith, if only for inconsequential amount of time, felt trite and unappetizing— much like the last time he had set foot beyond Bergamont. Except, his feelings for leaving his birthplace had been elicited from a fear of never seeing his loved ones again; a trepidation he had eventually overcome. the butterflies he felt now did not flutter the same way. He was sure almost instantly that he didn't want to leave simply for that reason: he didn't want to leave.

It was not for fear nor lack of wonder that stilled him. It was just the plaintive and true fact that he wanted to be here, more than anywhere else, that kept him within the borders. The clouds pulled apart, and a pillar of light fell upon the brown-furred fixture on Donnelaith's edge; he lifted his chin and closed his eyes, smiling into the sun's warmth.

this looked lonely!

Youthful whims still gripped her from time to time. They were the words of the wind, who spoke to her so clearly that it was if his words were her own thoughts. That day she had trotted beyond the the reaches of the wood and into the fields beyond to rejoice in the beauty of the day. The sky opened above her like a great, blue bowl. Clouds whisped over the blue delicately, and Starbuck sat for a long time in peace.

When she returned to the wood, she had the excellent timing of running into Flaris, whom she and Dierdre had sung to not many days before. He was a welcome sight, for he was both handsome and kind. Rather than greet him, she strode near (yet left a teasing distance, her girlish caprice was a terrible thing) and began to recite, Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. She let the poem trail off there as she smiled, bright as the sun, at him. Hello, Flaris!

it was! and i want all the kae threads, so this is just lovely! ^^

He watched the delicate Starbuck at a distance, noticing her before she had been able to do the same of him. Flaris, ever observant and gently prying, marveled at how contented she seemed, even without the knowledge that eyes were upon her, which made the emotion more true than not. He was unable to stem the private sense of delight he felt at how she brightened when she at last noticed him; though inwardly he supposed she shone like a star every time she noticed a member of her pack and sought to bring them her company.

Flaris held back in elegant stillness as she came near, pausing some coltish feet away, so that she might recite to him the poetic prose of her heart. "Hello, Starbuck," he beamed graciously, his tail swinging back and forth in the slow sweeps of a monarch's fan. "I cannot express to you how brightly you shine, my dear." Flaris was looking rather proud, himself, bolstered of course by his packmate's sweetly unique scent and her equally divine spirit. "Your loveliness grows each day," he added, without also mentioning that he thought this was because every day she drew closer to her first season, even if it was still many months away.

;)

Flaris seemed a good man, gentle as all of the wolves of Donnelaith and just as handsome. She desired his friendship as much as his attention, and she was pleased to find that he might offer both. Starbuck grinned, she would not allow herself to be so shy that she was embarrassed by his kind and pretty words. You flatter me, sweet Flaris, she said. 'tis the sun that shines brightly, not I! Though she deflected the compliment, she did so teasingly, for secretly she took great joy in his flattery.

And it is not I that grows fairer each day, but the leaves of fall, whose color grows yet more brilliant. Giggling, Starbuck danced away another few steps, her footfalls light, her movements airy, as though she was but a scrap of fabric caught up in the breeze. Will you walk with me, dear Flaris? I would so love your company.

"Oh, you throw my praises to the wild so lightly!" he teased, red eyes brimming with mutual fondness. "That all must be true, but I, my dear, have seen no day more lovely than you." He praised as was his want— as was his nature— and he seemed more than delighted to do so; perhaps wired to correlate another's level of enjoyment directly to his own. Stroking one's ego seemed to be his preferred form of inciting happiness. His strange effort at bonding. "Of course, my lady. All you need ever do, is ask," the panther smiled, spilling to her side in fluid steps, and motioning for her to take the lead. "Are we traveling somewhere specific, Starbuck?"

Again she tittered, ducking back towards him and rejoining him at his side. She gave up the game, no longer deflecting his compliments but taking them greedily. Yet still she volleyed one back, because she delighted as much in the giving as in the recieving. Ah, sweet Flaris. I was going to walk the wood and see what delightful sights could be seen, but I am afraid I have seen them all, now that you are here! And still she took the invitation, leading him off at an ambling stroll. She had meant to sight see, but now it seemed that her walk would be about company, not the beauty of the earth.