Stone Circle sticks

@Riley ??

Mother had not been paying a lot of attention to them. Charles didn't like it one bit, because he was hungry, and beside that, felt like he wasn't being treated like he was supposed to. He needed love and attention, and he wasn't getting any of it. Just his rowdy brothers who didn't understand him at all and didn't think he was as important as he clearly was either. They were just a little too rough for his liking, and definitely not as cool as he was.

Hungry and frustrated, Charles looked 'round the territory searching for something to eat. He gasped when he saw something that looked like a snake not too far off. Charles lowered his body to the ground and approached slowly and steadily until eventually he lunged.

Charles' teeth snapped down loudly on the stick, causing a pained yelp to break from his throat. Aw man, Charles whined while his jaw smarted as he looked at the snake in his paws that was in fact just a really sturdy big ole' stick.

Riley had not missed Laurel's change in demeanor. His reaction was slightly different than Charles' - where Charles may have felt something missing, Riley only felt a sense of vindication. Maybe he wasn't deserving of his mother's attention -- or maybe, he just wasn't the type to beg. If Laurel thought them loveless bastards, then he would prove her right -- he would be the monster he always thought he saw in his aunt's (and sometimes mother's) gaze. He was terribly young to have such thoughts of harmful independence and a loathing of weaklings ingrained into him, but that was his upbringing. Riley knew nothing else.  

He had seen Charles and marked him the way a hunter marked his prey; he watched his brother prowl to a stick, pouncing. He noted the disappointment when his brother realized his error, and smiled the serene smile of a bully as he loudly stepped towards Charles. The stick was held in his gaze with a piggish interest.  Suddenly, and solely because it was held between Charles' paws, Riley wanted it.

All he wanted was some damned food. Was that really too much to ask for? Charles frowned down at the stick and sighed loudly and dramatically. Maybe in hopes someone would hear. Maybe in hopes someone would care, because it seemed that life was just full of assholes who didn't care.

The sound of his brother's approach didn't go unnoticed to Charles. He'd learned from a young age that he was smaller, rankier and weaker than them. He hadn't even wanted the stick in the first place, and even though Riley's possessive look made Charles kinda want the stick after all, he valued his skin much more than this stupid stick that wasn't a snake. There wasn't any energy left in his body to fight, anyway.

Charles threw the stick on the ground and lowered his body. He crawled back a few steps with his head and tail low in silent defeat, clearly not looking for a fight.

Leta heard, briefly, a commotion. More often than not she was with her own family than any other, and though she had seen Laurel's children in passing she had never been bold enough to greet them and interact with them beyond the bare minimum. But given all their time here she felt comfortable enough now on principle; with exposure, her fear of the unknown chipped away little by little. 

That was because she felt they were known now. To some degree anyway. Certainly not strangers. 

So she approached them now, slowly, tail waving as she looked to them. Hi, she greeted, voice neither soft nor loud. Whatcha doin'? She had arrived when Charles had given up the fight, so to speak, so only saw Riley with the stick.

riley had hoped for a little bit of a fight in charles; he watched flatly as the stick was strewn, with no motion to go after it. looking into charles' eyes, riley saw little fire there -- that was exactly what he liked to see.

he was about to pounce on charles instead (maybe even chew his ear instead of a boring crunchy stick) when leta arrived. freezing mid-motion, riley swung towards the girl and sized her up with a flinty squint. this was the girl that had gotten hurt; riley wondered if greyback was somewhere nearby watching -- if so, he resented that.

eyeballing leta rather unslyly, riley shoved charles roughly -- charles was a better talker, and riley wanted to see if his brother would say anything stupid, before he said anything first.

Silently Charles waited, looking at the ground while he saw his brother pounce the stick in his peripheral vision. He just took a few steps backwards, not looking to get mixed into this at all, when another arrived. Charles eyed her warily, for though he knew her and she hadn't been much of a threat up until now, growing up with his rowdy brothers and a mother who wasn't around enough to protect him from them he still felt his body stiffen. He glanced at Riley, expecting something to happen -- for him to attack her, perhaps, or to chomp on him to show how strong he was in front of her. Whatever the case, he knew this something would involve him in some way, expect some thing of him. And he was ready to oblige, though he hoped it would be the most former of his thoughts, selfishly: he just wanted it to be not him who got hurt.

Charles murmured an Oof under his breath as he got shoved. He glanced at Riley, hoping to figure out what his brother wanted, but didn't know for sure. Hesitantly, the coywolf lifted his large ears curiously towards her as he said, Hi. It took him another five seconds of blinking dumbly until he realised that she'd asked a question. Oh, we was just -- He glanced back at Riley, then at the stick, unsure what to say. -- Playing. With a stick. Seemed easiest to stick to whatever was closer to the truth of the matter than to make up some elaborate lie to hide his fear. His tail was still tucked between his hind legs, a silent reminder of the lingering fear, even though he felt a little easier in the presence of another. It took some of the heat off him.

Leta's tail waved as Riley regarded her, and she tilted her head and smiled at Charles as he came closer. They reminded her of West and Clay, somehow... and for that she felt comforted. The girl heeded Charles as he spoke, talking about playing, and Leta at once found something in common with them both. Latching onto it, Leta's voice sounded again, hopeful: Oh!!! She began, gaze turning back to Riley as she smiled warmly, I like to play with sticks, too!

She took a small step closer, tail waving. Uhm... are ya still playing? she asked, wanting to join in if they still were... if they wanted her to play along, of course.

Leta is a pupper too <3

Charles was in charge - for now. Riley eyed Leta, in a manner that was all-together too interested. He knew what he wanted to do once Leta's expression lit up.

Stepping over his brother, Riley's expression -- which before had simply been a mixture of dullness and sourness -- transformed into an ugly grin which showed the bottom of his teeth. "No."  His paw rested firmly on the stick, while most of his body blocked Charles from Leta (and vice versa). Riley's gaze met Leta with unflinching coldness, that sneer still remaining plastered across his mug.

Oops, I knew that. Thanks for pointing it out, I've edited!

There was so much warmth in her; a thing that Charles admired. Perhaps because he had so little experience with it himself. His mother had been very up and down. At times adoring and doting, especially when they were younger, and at times overly harsh in her punishments. Now she was just void, he felt, though he didn't know why. To Charles, the absence of his aunt was in many ways a relief, for she'd never liked them and it had always been clear, even when she had watched them and played with them at times. Leta was very different from himself and his two brothers — and Charles admired her for it, unwilling to let resentment for her cheer rear its ugly head.

Her excitement was seemingly boundless at the sentiment of playing with sticks. Please don't ask, please don't ask, please don't— But she asked anyway. Charles' ears instantly drooped back against his skull as he looked at Riley, afraid of what was to come.

His brother's actions were no surprise to Charles. He watched with a frown as Riley blocked him and Leta from seeing each other, and the stick was taken. Just stay down and be quiet, Charles told himself, And he'll focus on her and you'll be safe. But there was some undeniable pull that made him want to put himself out there. Something strange and foreign. Don't do it, don't do it, don't— Aw, come on Ri, let's just play with Leta! Immediately Charles realised that he had made a mistake, and he flinched in place, frozen as he waited breathlessly for his brother's response to his audacity.

Her expression seemed to falter as Riley said they were playing no longer, though it did not fall. The light in her eyes was an undying thing; she would need to hear far more than no for that to ever fade. He had come to block his brother from her, though Leta took this all the wrong way. She saw him as any one of her own brothers, protective—the cold flint of his gaze, which ought to have struck a chord in her, did nothing to someone it ought to have given what she had endured. It ought to unsettle.

But Leta was naive, and a little too trusting to (and of) all within Easthollow.

Not at all taken aback, Leta's full smile returned, prepared to accept the unfortunate truth that she had come late to their game. But then Charles spoke up, and Leta's tail waved. A thankful, happy little look was given to him. She looked to Riley with a challenge now alight in her hazel eyes, tail swaying left and right as she egged him on as she did to her brothers when they did not want to play: betcha I can beat you in a race for the stick,

For they could not yet resist the challenge. She could not either, to be sure. She had to prove them wrong! And now, she held onto hope that Riley would want to prove her wrong so that they could all play together. She looked to Charles, sizing him up with a playfully warm eye, the smile never leaving as Leta's gaze darted back to the boy Riley.

Being goaded into play caused a flame of resentment to flicker in Riley's heart. He shot Charles a cold look, before scanning Leta with iron indifference. "No." Riley repeated, a rout of hackles along his back. This time his tone was clipped - completely shut off from compromise.

And then, because he was a dick needing a lot more than a simple therapist, Riley lugged the stick away in his mouth. He fully intended to march elsewhere with it in his jaws, too. He was not going to play with a sissy and a girl - especially not the last part.

Charles knew better than to expect his brother to change his mind. When Riley said a very definite 'no', Charles frowned and looked at the ground. Admittedly, he felt some sort of relief when Riley decided to march off with the stick in his mouth. Charles watched as his brother left while he nervously licked his lips, keeping himself from interacting with Leta because Riley had forbidden it and while he wanted to, he also didn't want to break Riley's rules.

When Charles was pretty sure that his brother wasn't going to return, his large coyote-like ears perked up towards Leta and he asked with a smile, Wanna play something else? The stick might be gone, but at least Riley was gone too, so that the two could play together without further blocking.

i'll fade this since Leta is ppc :)