Dawnlark Plains white sun, the upswing

✹☾❂

 

It was late in a heady, heavy summer day. The day had been long, but not exactly well-spent. On these hot days, Eleuthera tended towards sloth — she found the shade, where ever it was, and draped her body across the ground and drank it in as if it was the elixir of life itself. Eleuthera had very little motivation to do anything but exactly as she did; she hadn’t even eaten since breakfast of yesterday, but she didn’t feel hungry. Her mind didn’t think. Her eyes did not bother to see. The lazy, lilac girl simply napped in the shade and moved whenever it shifted.

Now the day was ending and Eleuthera had finally stirred to life. The sun had begun its late descent behind the horizon, lighting the sky in a patchwork of golds, oranges and reds. It was quite spectacular, and drew Eleuthera towards it. She watched the dancing light show, still quite drowsy and unthinking, knowing that soon it would be time again for sleep... so if she did anything today, let it be this.

For a brief moment, her subconscious mind drifted towards thoughts of her brother. She and Séamus had been separated before, and most of the time this distance profoundly upset her, but at this moment she felt profoundly calm about it. They would one day find their way back to each other, because they always did. and though she didn’t understand it, Eleuthera felt compelled to lift her chin and loose a long, lilting song that, if you listened closely, sounded a lot like the sweetness of sorrow.

@Dante

What font setting do you use? I see it all the time and I've never thought to ask but I'm curious now haha

Dante's chest heaved with breath, life pulsing through the boy from his recently-earned runners high. He'd found himself compelled to explore lately, flitting this way and that with his leggy form. He'd been trying to get a better picture for the surrounding territories the past few days, but the heat had skyrocketed that day. Dante had instead been running along the edges of the developing borders, trying to catch enough speed to have some illusion of wind whip hs face. The young boy had been longing for the comforts of the tide more than usual that day, perpetually disappointed when the cool seabreeze he found himself awaiting never arrived. The shade of the Willows was just fine, but it would never come close to the shiver-inducing brush of the waves upon one's toes. 

The young man was finally cooling down, walking underneath the trees' weeping branches, when he heard the call ring out. His ear perked instantly, sleek head swiveling towards the direction the clear voice had come from. Just as it had slowed, the lazy trot he'd adopted quickly developed back to a light jog as he worked his way in the howl's direction. It wasn't a familiar voice- that, Dante was almost completely sure of, he'd taken the time to memorize the calls of his new packmates. When he found himself nearing the source, the boy wound down his movements, padding softly through the foliage as he searched. He gave a soft chuff when he came upon a silvery figure several metres away, his tail wagging softly so as not to cause the stranger so much alarm. 'Lo, he spoke softly, eyes wide with curiosity but body tensed just slightly, poised to run if the wolf were to become aggressive.

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As she crooned away to a sea of unhearing ears, Eleuthera’s mind strayed to Seamus more than once — more than a couple times, in fact. Each time she swallowed it, doing so became harder and harder. Becoming perturbed by this, the lilac woman let her song fade away and did not pick up the tune again. She didn’t even know why she was howling, anyways.

By the time her pale, purple eyes reopened to the world, the golden sky had shifted colors yet again. It was now less of a spectacular lightship and now carried with it the heaviness that foretold the oncoming night. The woman prepared to leave her sitting-spot and perhaps locate a place where the earth still retained some of the day’s warmth. Then she would continue the same monotony tomorrow.

Returning her sense to the outwards world, she become immediately aware of another in her vicinity — how long he had been there, she didn’t know. For a moment, she became ruffled and turned tightly on her heels, but she almost immediately perceived him as a non-threat and her hackles fell dramatically.

“Oh, hey,” she greeted with almost a sense of familiarity, though she had never met such a fellow in all her travels. “You… were listening?” she prompted, not sure how she should feel that her song drew a crowd. In a way, it deeply pleased and tickled her.

it’s truly nothing special, just your handy dandy [ small ] tag!

Dante was greatly relieved to find a peacefulness in the stranger, his body untensing and eyes scanning his new aquaintance as she turned around. He found himself fascinated by her coat, which was a distinct muted silver-brown mix, with eye-catching undertones of something akin to lavender. Her features, though delicate, posessed a strength, one that was not unlike the quiet strength Lumiya posessed. 

Dante's gaze met the girl's as she spoke, prompting him to notice the shocking amaranthine tone her eyes possessed. His assessments were purely out of a curious nature with no ulterior motivations, though he sometimes forgot that a wandering gaze could be percieved as something otherwise. He belatedly responded to her question, a kind smile tugging at his lips. Suppose I did, yeah. You've got a great voice, Dante blinked his eyes closed momentarily, attempting a soft hum escaping his throat as he recalled a fond memory. We do quite a bit of singing where I'm from, sea shanties and lullabies, lots of work tunes and 'at, but that was...yeah that was pretty different. 

The boy stepped forward slightly, still keeping a bit of distance between the two so as not to encroach too much on her space, nosing along the ground momentarily before turning back to the new face. 'Ve you got a name I could match to such a lovely voice? The boy turned another friendly smile on her, eyes searching her face briefly as infinite questions for the strange traveler swarmed his mind.

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She found the wolf to be immediately charming. His manner of speaking was warm, and she quite appreciated the forwardness of his approach. Eleuthera was a social creature and loved nothing more than to maintain her relationships, but the initial introductions always seemed insurmountable. Thankfully, this hurdle was already broached, here. The fact that he was looking at her admiringly was quickly dismissed, for she was doing the exact same thing. They were similar in hue, though he was a sea of mottled shades and she was even-toned. Both refined, both equally as beautiful. 

Eleuthera smiled a sweet twist of a grin, looking down at her pointed toes at his compliment. ”Oh, thank you…” she responded, suddenly feeling her cheeks flush with color at the recognition of her singing talent. She had never been especially loved for her singing before, but perhaps the sadness nowadays — the soul behind it — gave it a weight that resonated with so many sad others. She glanced up, collecting her frame neatly upon seated haunches. The sun was setting, Eleuthera was newly stirring and had the bright energy of the early morning. She desired at that moment, above all else, a conversation.

“I’m Eleuthera — and you? also, what is a sea shanty?"

Lets say this thread occurs before this one?

That works!

The boy smiled lightly at the new woman's bashful response, amused but not necessarily surprised by her reaction. Dante had found throughout his shrot little life that it was often those who were most talented that were unaware of the gifts they posessed. He supposed it might've had something to do with the fact that those who retained such skills and were the best at their arts were the ones who grew through their own self-criticisms, and being so often were to distracted by their own critical nature to truly embrace their talents. Dante had no idea if such was the case for the silvery stranger, but he nonetheless found himself quietly pondering the thought. 

The young man's olive eyes glanced back at the woman- Eleuthera- as her name was stated and a question was posed in return. Dante flushed slightly, suddenly feeling as though his name was a bit plain. Since the boy had left the oceanside, it seemed as though he couldn't stop running into souls who carried names that dripped off of the tongue like honey. While he was grateful not to have to carry the weight of living up to something elegant and lovely, Dante did often feel a bit mundane when he introduced himself to others. S'a stunning name innit? I'm Dante, pleased to meet you, Eleuthera, he spoke amicably, a smile alighting on his maw as he wondered how to answer the followup question she had inquired. A shanty s'like... he drifted off briefly, recalling the sharp scent of sea salt that he missed so dearly as he attempted to gather his thoughts. I'm from the shore, right? And we, we do a lot of swimming, right? There are these little islands that we 'ave to swim to to get to good fishing spots, and they're not to far, and the waters aren't always so deep, but sometimes to pass the time when we swim or gather, we sing these songs that've been passed down for ages y'know, Dante paused momentarily, smiling softly at the memories of his youth along the beach grasped at him, before he flicked his aze back up to meet the nymph's. They're our work songs, I guess. Sorry, I may've rambled a bit there, he chuckled, eyes squinting slightly at the other. Do you have songs where you're from? Or is it more freeform? The boy's ears perked up a bit, anticipatory as to the answer the woman might give. She was a curious stranger, and Dante was eager to learn as always.

✹☾❂

 

In truth, Eleuthera had no singing skill. All she had was the passion in her soul, which always spoke loudly and belied her joie-de-vivre, or foretold of her deep sorrows. There was little to hide; or, there was little that she wanted to hide. As a seasoned traveler who was experienced in shedding packs and people time and time again, this part of her was her only sense of contingency. Especially now, without Séamus…

Séamus…

Anyways, it was her passion that shone through her voice when she howled or sang lyrics, as it shone now in her eager interest in this man’s introduction. Dante! and he had complimented her own name, which far too much of a mouthful for her liking, but she smiled besides herself, letting the upturn of her cheeks squint her eyes, and gave him an ominous warning. “Oh, be careful,” she offered, her tone carrying a sense of suggestive jocularity. “If you don’t stop complimenting me, I might very well fall in love with you!" After all, who didn’t like having their feathers fluffed, and being told they had a nice voice, as well as a lovely name?

In a small way, Dante’s pale coloring and olive-hued eyes reminded her of her mother — and as well it should have, because she knew she was getting close to the Hushed Willows. The land spoke to her, as well as she greatly recognized the planes that lay just beyond the holdfast of the willows. These were the fields of her puppyhood, and had so many memories romping here with her brother. It was these sort of memories than tinged her mental image of Dante’s pack with feelings of deep warmth and love. 

It was truly nice to listen to the stories Dante had to tell about his shoreline, faraway culture. Perhaps she had drifted close to Dante’s home once, during her nomadic years, but she raked through her memory and couldn’t place this specific packhood. So she listened, hoping to learn a way of life, a perspective, that was different than her own. If anything, Eleuthera was a patchwork of her experiences, and the wolves and customs she had come across, and that’s what this very much was! A chance to learn about what interested her most — everything.

Then the question was turned back on her, onto a topic she much less preferred — her own family's ways. Not that she wasn’t interesting, but her own history wasn’t all shiny and new. She had known herself her whole life — in that way, really, it was rather selfish of her, as if the conversation only existed for her own enjoyment. “We didn’t really have songs… more like, prayers. I never really understood it, though." She shrugged and turned her head to the side. “They liked parties, but they never really sang." Eleuthera cast her eye to the quickly darkening sky behind her. “But i’ve been traveling ‘round for a long while, so I’ve picked up a song or two! My brother and I used to sing duets." It took a while to commit these melodies to memory, but when she sometimes stayed with a pack for four or five months, others usually delighted in teaching her.

Dante laughed mirthfully at the silver woman's reply, giving her a playful grin in return. He was grateful to have someone to banter a bit with; though he had found himself in many bantering situations with Lumiya, he never seemed to catch his breath enough around the sprite to get out a quip that didn't sound stupid or sappy on his lips. She was something, that girl. Dante wasn't sure all the air in the world would be enoguht to allow him to breathe around her. 

His attention was once again caught by the other's mention of prayers. He shared her sentiment qith a quiet hum and a nod; Dante had known some of the elder generations of his pack to pray, those who believed in religion and whatnot, but Dante himself had found a sort of contentness in allowing the world to continue on being a mystery, his gratefuleness for life was surely already known by any higher power that might be out there without ritualistic statements each day. Dante found himself quite endeared by the woman's manner of movement, something of a bright mix between elegance and...optimism? Dante thought perhaps that was the only way he could describe it. A smile lit on his maw as she mentioned a brother, his eyes brightening and a question tumbling off of his tongue before he'd even truly thought to do so, You have siblings, then? Damn, I miss my siblings, he crooned wistfully as his gaze drifted, a soft snort following in foot. Never thought I'd say that t'be honest, he chuckled quietly, meeting Eleuthera's eyes once more.

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Dante’s tone was light and his overall mien was mirthful, so he likely hadn’t meant for his comments to strike such a chord — but they did. Siblings. She never had luck with brothers and sisters, though they numbered far and many. Eleuthera missed her siblings too, and she likely longed and pined for them more than she should. She hadn’t seen most of them since she was a teenager. The others were dead.

But out of all her siblings, blood or adopted, there was only one that mattered. “My brother’s name is..." she replied softly, stumbling over her words and then continuing in an even more hushed tone. “...was Séamus."All joy had drained from her face and was replaced with something incredibly somber.

Séamus had been her north star and guiding light. Her perfect partner in so many ways. It was why they had forsaken a traditional life for one on the road — how could they possibly lose, when they had each other with whom she could face the bad, scary world. “We had never been apart, not a day in our lives, but…” She swallowed, looking straight down at her feet. If the twilight darkness hadn’t done the job of hiding the tears that managed to escape her eyes, then the paw that came up to dab at her cheeks gave it away.

“He died."The admission came as soft as a mouse. This certainly hadn’t been Dante’s intention, Eleuthera knew that, but she couldn’t help it. She’d never been one to shield her emotions, especially when it came to her heartbrother.

It was clear from the moment his words resonated with the girl that he'd stepped into a territory he hadn't expected to. The boy's bright smile gradually dripped from his face as the girl continued on, an empathetic and mellow look taking his place. Dante wasn't one to shy away from emotion, not when it came to others at least. Though he sometimes had difficulty expressing vulnerability when it came to himself, he knew how to be a shoulder, or so he believed. 

His heart clenched at the woman's soft admission, and before he knew what he was doing the boy found himself moving quickly forward to offer an embrace. Should she accept it, he would wind his neck gently under his new acquaintance's, delicate, never imposing or demanding of anything. Should it make the woman uncomfortable, the boy would politely step back, dipping his head in a quiet apology for his actions. It came almost as an instinct to the young man to offer physical comfort in the face of tragedy; Dante had been raised in a culture in which touch was shared openly, seen as something that was as neccessary to survive as air and water, something that made the individuals of the pack who they were, but he understood that not all those he would meet would share his ideals. I'm sorry, the boy would murmur softly either way, having known loss and the grief that came with it. His own chest stung slightly at the notion, the long-gone whispers of a gentle rasp ringing in his ears momentarily before he slammed the door in his mind to those thoughts. That was then and Dante...Dante was now, so. He huffed a gentle sigh; how quickly a brief meeting could become a gateway to old ghosts.

✹☾❂

 

Eleuthera also came from a culture that was big on loving touch and communal love for all living, feeling creatures — so Dante’s embrace was fully welcomed, and warmly returned. It was at that moment that Eleuthera felt flooded with a series of complex emotions, from extreme sorrow to blithe gratitude, to simply being seen and supported by another wayward soul in this world. Things in life didn’t always go according to plan, but there was something about this experience that hinted it wasn’t going to be all bad, forever.

Eleuthera did not let herself weep in front of this man, but she did linger in his silent support for a moment with languid, closed eyes. No one could see it, but a soft smile slipped over her lips despite the nature of the news she just shared; a smile that she was certain to wipe away before she unlatched from Dante’s embrace. She wasn’t sure if she should continue her lamenting — or if she had already used up the amount of goodwill she was allotted from this stranger.

In the end, she plodded right along.“I just can’t believe he’s gone," she cooed woefully, standing abreast this soft cloud of a wolf, looking towards her side at him. She heaved an honest sigh, and looked out to the trees that stood just before them. “I’m here to see the place we grew up. I — I need to see it again." The hushed willows were the whole reason she came back, wasn’t it? Blinking in the night’s darkness, she backpedaled from Dante’s side a dancing step or two. Wasn't it...?

“It’s a grove of willows, unlike anything you’ve ever seen. It should be nearby, I think..."

Having pulled away from her, Dante nodded solemnly along with the woman's words. Closure was something that one had to find in their own way, it was hardly something with one universal means of going-about. His eyes followed Eleuthera as she began to move, content to allow the woman to be on her way with a goodbye, but it was the mention of a willow grove that caught the young man's attention. 

That, he said, standing up as well, I might be able to help you with. My pack is settling in Hushed Willows right now, actually, you're heading the right direction if that's your location. The boy turned to face southwest, his maw pointing with intent.It's that way, I could accompany you if you'd like, though I imagine...I mean, it may be something you'd prefer to do on your own, he offered her another soft smile then, awaiting her response quietly.

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So, he knew about the Hushed Willows! If he was currently residing in this area, it was certain he would know of it. It was, after all, unforgettable and attracted all lovely souls towards it — this man, included. However, his reason for knowing it came as a slight surprise. “A pack?" she questioned, not immediately sure how she felt about this information. The last time she had been here, Elysium was decimated and the willows lay unclaimed. Eleuthera decided to stow her emotions, to process later, when she was alone.

“You don’t say…" she murmured, knowing none of this was Dante’s fault. In at likelihood, this was just the nature of fate and time. He offered to escort her there, an offer she immediately knew she would refuse. She had spent months working up the courage to even come to these lands, and now that she was on Elysium’s doorstep, she wasn’t sure if she could cross the threshold. “I — I’m not ready to go there. Not yet." she set said apologetically, as this stranger (now, friend) had offered her more kindness than she felt she deserved.

It was dark; she must go. “I believe I will see you again, Dante." The lilac woman’s eyes twinkled, ultimately happy that this was not the last time they would meet. “and I greatly look forward to that day."

Sorry this took so long, I totally fogot that I needed to close it out. I'll archive:)

His eyes followed her reactions carefully as the woman spoke to Dante, nad he figrued that perhaps he recognized the conflict she was facing. He simply nodded and kept a gentle eye on her as she answered his offer, unsurprised but perhaps slightly sad to end their exchange. 

And I as well, Eleuthera, he responded, voice tender and warm. As short as their time together may've been, the lavender stranger had made him reflect more upon himself than he had perhaps since he'd been given a home at Seelie, and his appreciation was no small thing. With a final smile, he turned and padded back in the direction he came, a warm thrum echoing in his chest. They would see each other again, indeed. He was certain of it.