The Sunspire Listening is an Art [IC Joining]

LOL I don't know what I'm saying right now, this character's mind is the weirdest place ever to be in.

Even the boy's scars were beautiful, in their own way, like traces of red and white lightning in a dark night sky. She did not shy away from them, did not choose to ignore them. They were part of him, so she would accept them. Had he been missing an eye or a limb, she would have been just as accepting, thinking, So he is a tree with only three branches instead of four. Three-limbed trees are just as pretty as four-limbed trees, and three-limbed wolves have stories to tell that four-limbed wolves do not.

Akita's smile -- the kind that lit up her whole face and her eyes -- never left. It hardly ever left once it arrived. She was the kind who smiled even when the world was shattering around her, for there was an aching beauty in destruction that one could not find elsewhere. It did not mean that she found bad things good, only that she had a way of looking at even the worst situation and seeing the good in it. Some, like those of her birth pack, did not appreciate this about her. They thought she was crazy. She thought they were boring and dead inside, living but not living.

She listened to him as he spoke, appreciating the lower octave of his voice, which matched his physical form perfectly. If she guessed, she would say he was young, though his eyes spoke of things in his past that made him seem much older. "I am Akita," she said, voice like a whisper, like a soft wind blowing in a valley. "I have come to join your pack, if you will have me. I am an Artist. I see things in nature that others do not, because they do not have real eyes like I do. Their eyes see only what is directly in front of them. My eyes see all -- in front, behind, future and past."

She paused, remembering the way her old pack-mates had sometimes stared at her when she spoke of such things, and temporarily reeled herself in. "In other words, I have the skills of Naturalist and Healer. If you prefer the fighting type, I do not regret to inform you that I have not a fighting bone in my body. But I know my way around poisons well enough, though I do not enjoy poisoning others..." She stopped here, allowing the Night Wolf to intake all she had said, and went back to closing her eyes, putting herself into a trance in which she and the wind were one and the same...