Barrow Fields of empires that thought

i'm taking the liberty of pretending that barrow fields touches a section of ankyra sound's borders so scarab is in the territory of the fields but still very close to rusalka's borders. :-)

the morning sky is painted a turmeric orange and plum purple with fluffy candyfloss colored clouds of pale pink by the sun that blazes fierce and bright. an accidental glimpse of it leaves scarab seeing bright colored spots in when he blinks for a bit. each breath he takes as he feeds his newfound and potentially dangerous addiction, teetering and toying devilishly with the scent markings of the borders, pacing them as if they are a tightrope and he is a skilled acrobat before he leans towards the neutral territory: barrow fields and collapses into the dirt and damp emerald grass with a soft, boyish giggle. he rolls around for a few seconds and flips to his belly before pushing himself to his paws.

the air is humid and the golden filigree of his pelage curls at his nape as he draws his tongue across his jowls. the air tastes of salty seabrine — despite that there is quite a distance between him and the shore — and honeyed dew of a fresh rainshower. scarab turns curious lapis lazuli gaze to the sprawling field interested in what treasures and adventures it might hold though, as times previous, he doesn't dare yet to stray too far from the protective shroud of rusalka's borders.

Enjoy some music!

Go to sleep you little baby The melody rang out in the barren fields that he walked through. Go to sleep you little baby Steps smooth and rhythmic with every line he sang, loud, on key, but he had no desires to keep his position secret from how loud he sang out in the echoing field. You're mama's gone away and you're daddy's gonna stay Though the area creepy beyond all reasons, it left the painted man with no other desire other than to sing his way through - there was a creepy sensation about this place but he wouldn't let that turn tail and go the long way around instead of through.

Immediately as he wandered around, he was drawn by the little individual he focused on from a little ways away. Prancing toward the pup and circling halfway all the while continuing his little song. Didn't leave nobody but the baby Unaware of the pack's borders just behind the little guy, oblivious to what danger might come running out should he stick around a pup, he gave the youngster an elegant, long, playful bow.

though it is naïve to think that he will never run into strangers during these secret ( or not so secret? ) outings that scarab takes, scarab still finds himself feeling surprised when others appear. most of the time they are wandering strangers, vagabonds or pack wolves which draws scarab's natural thirst for knowledge: what are they doing out here so close to rusalka? and beyond that: how populated is the world outside of rusalka's borders? for the longest time rusalka had been the axis of scarab's world and everything beyond has felt like little more than a fantasy. the world beyond his home, as it turns out, is not a fantasy and much larger and more populated than he's assumed.

the man that appears with heavy footfalls and with a song to his lips: a strange song at that, that causes the curled hairs along scarab's nape to bristle with uncertainty, looks ...well, unlike any wolf that scarab's ever seen before. he's never seen such a chaotic coloration and patterning of pelage. scarab blinks slowly, assessing, even as the male drops into a playful bow before him. there's an imperious lift of the golden prince's chin before he blurts out, why d'you look like that?!? because he's rude and still lacks that necessary filter between his brain and his mouth that would have otherwise made him pause to consider that maybe this question might cause some hurt feelings.

Even if the pup's outburst was rude - Hieronymous chalked it up to just a puppy who was learning how to interact with others, especially those who look different than he does. With a smile on his lips, eyes wide and teetering on crossing one another as he looked down on the small boy. Why do you look like that?! He barked back in a playful, shocked tone, pointing his spotted paw toward the youth as to turn the question back on him. 

Hieronymous was very much aware that his pelt was unique, very unique to him. That every blotch and splatter on his mane was and would only be his to carry - but he thought about having some fun with this. Innocent fun. In my town I'm normal, you're the weird one. Where's the color?! In a gasp he turned around the boy again, feet dancing on the earth as he swept around the boy in an easy motion. All the while pretending as though the lac of blotches and pizzaz was oh so strange to him.

if the older male is insulted by scarab's question he does a good job of hiding it from the golden prince who studies the unique man's face with prodding gaze of lapis lazuli, that turned from unabashed curiosity to an imperious sneer when the question is turned to him. scarab's initial reaction is a literal facial expression of ???, complete with a small, birdlike cant of his head. despite himself, it forces scarab to think about which parent he looks like. unlike reyes, marisol and even clementine, he doesn't have any of rosalyn's pretty reds — scarab is still very unaware that he hasn't entirely been conceived of rosalyn and erzulie — he and nieve are the only two that bare a similar pelage color that is close-ish to erzulie's but not an entire match.

hmph. scarab grumbles. i have plenty of color. the golden prince pouts, wishing he would've came up with a better come-back. your town is weird. it wasn't exactly great, but it was the best he could come up with in the heat of the moment, still pouting, entirely missing the point of: if he feels like this at being called 'not normal' then perhaps this was how his rude question that started all of this made the older man feel.

It seems that he had gotten to the little guy, even just a little. The pouting and childish retorts didn't do much to affect his mood and Hieronymous continued to smile and only try to rile up the young boy further. Really? He leaned in little, wide eyes looking over at the young man as if he was searching for something. Where is it? You look like sand if you ask me. Blinking a couple of times, he still offered a smile to the boy to see what else he would come up with. 

Frankly, Hieronymous wasn't all that great with children just yet. He had very little experience with the youth, and perhaps his teasing was a little too harsh for their little minds to appreciate or take lightly. But he loved them, their little round bodies, their attitudes, and explorative personalities, it was interesting and fun. Perhaps in time, he would learn how not to upset them by going a little too far with his jests.