Ocean's Breath Plateau feathers drenched in sunflower yellow

@Djehanne

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armand walked.
he had moved from the place upon the coast where he had met the man barred with silver -- he had evaded the other groups living in sight of the salted expanse. armand wanted no company; he asked only to be left alone, and turned all those who approached away by the swing of his own stride, lengthening into a cambering lope if he so needed. the boy slept in the lee of great rocks and amid piles of polished driftwood, but there were nights that he shook in misery and wakefulness, unguarded upon the cold beach, his skeletal frame offering no comfort even beneath its ragged covering of auburn velvet.
the boy's mind wandered, for only thoughts of his impending death gave him comfort, and when he came to himself again, armand found that he stood upon a high plateau, girded with great trees and shrubs bitten with the new frosts. the grass beneath his tread had all but died, but he stood staring down at it, as if it were the last shade of green in all the world, staring, staring as the faintness crept into his belly and glided across his throat to choke armand with a guttering nausea.[/tr][/td][/table]

With the evening came the gentle nips of winter's brisk breaths, yet the cold did not phase Djehanne. There were things she had to see that lie beyond the plains; a world that she had yet to explore still remained. Yet as she came upon the steep plateau, a lithe figure came into sight, standing and staring in awe at the dying foliage. Djehanne approached, yet kept a respectful distance between them, for she did not know the male's story, nor did he know hers. 
She watched from a distance as he became choked in nausea and grimaced as she examined his abused coat. The poor male was obviously starved and deprived of any nourishment at all -- even his coat of rouge couldn't hide the slim body beneath. A gentle whine left her lips, yet that was all. Concern had become of her.

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his body rebelled and brought up thin strings of stomach-biled saliva, and as these dripped from his lips, armand turned his burning eyes upon the figure who had appeared to watch him. an oceanid, surely; his addled mind gave unto her coat of flaxen color a pair of wings, but the grace in the planes of the woman's features were real indeed. had she come to mock him; no.
armand began to weep. she had come, surely, she had come to draw him into the sea, and his body relaxed all its tension at the thought of her sweet kiss taking his breath as the waves closed o'ertop their heads. "come, then," he invited, smiling at her gently.[/tr][/td][/table]

Though slightly confused by the male's request (this was murmured only moments after a weak flow of vomit), Djehanne approached. Caution was laced in each step, though her hackles remained low and her teeth hidden. It was a calm invitation, given with a smile, so most of the danger that she sensed was quick to disappear. Once she drew near enough for the odor of sickness to become suffocating, she whined and averted her gaze, hoping to not be seen as rude.
It was something about the poor lad that made Djehanne feel pity for his weak mind and body. Perhaps it was the thin build he carried or the low words he cooed, but there was nothing exact to put a nail on. So she simply sat and awaited his next command, hoping things would soon make a bit more sense.

[table width=55%][tr][td]"yes ... yes, i know that i am repulsive," armand whispered, bearing her no ill will for the turning-away of her face. her whine was a haunting thing, and the boy drew away from her, as not to offend her more with his inability to keep down whatever was in his belly. like an infant calf, his legs buckled, and threw him without dignity to the ground, and from where he lay the boy gave a strangled laugh.
"i want only to die," armand whispered fiercely at the skies above, tears etching themselves backwards along his cheeks. "i want only to see his face again, and speak his name." the boy turned his cheek against the grasses and gazed pleadingly at the sea nymph. "but i cannot do it; i am weak."[/tr][/td][/table]

Her efforts to avoid offense went without use for the male was quick to apologize. Djehanne gulped as he buckled and fell, tears like that of a lost child, sobbing in memoriam of a bosom once coddled to one's cheek. Then he spoke of death, a subject most would prefer to avoid. Who was the male he wished to see again? Why did he long for the void?
Though each move was made with hesitant steps, Djehanne moved behind the male and lay there, embracing him in her warmth. Should he allow, she would use her tongue to gently kiss the trails of each salty tear the brute shed. 

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she approached with worry upon her face -- armand held his breath, for surely this was the very moment for which he had waited! but it was not to be. still -- he found himself surprised by the breadth of which she gave herself to him, embracing him upon the cold earth and trailing her tongue along the salt of his tears. the boy was tense for a long moment, but soon this ebbed away, and he felt within him a gnawing hunger for her delicate touch.
he took solace in her nearness, this woman he did not know, and perhaps never would. "i am armand. and i long for my father," he said simply, for that was what the man had been to him. maker, teacher; a hand of guidance. these things he had no longer.[/tr][/td][/table]

Though the name Armand was given, Djehanne had long since bestowed one upon the sickly male: Sasi; Sorrow. She wanted to give her own introduction, and yet the words remained trapped within her mind. Never had she uttered but a sound, for the Priestess was born silent and that's how she planned to remain.
It was assumed that Sasi's father was no longer on this plane, and Djehanne decided that it wasn't abnormal for one to miss a parent. It had been months since she'd seen either of her own. Her own father, the love of her life and fire of her loins, was long dead, and her mother was now under another woman's rule. At times she missed them, yet never had she felt for them as strongly as this wolf felt for his own blood.

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had he known the thoughts of her mind, armand might have laughed aloud again. the man had been his father, but not in the sense of biology. and yet, perhaps she would understand, but she did not speak, only listened. armand had not felt a reason to outpour himself to another, and yet the dam of words within him broke before her, this blanched wolfess who curled herself around his skeletal body.
"he was an artist. he taught me all the colours of the world, and all the names for these shades and hues. he gave to me a purpose." armand sighed, his head lolling back against the woman's arm. "i belonged to him completely; he was my maker. he awakened my hunger for artistry and roused the cravings of my body." armand was rambling now, half in his mind and half out of it, but remaining fully enveloped in her comfort.
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Finally did Sasi relax, his head falling limp on Djehanne's foreleg. She smiled down at him as he explained the fond favors of the unknown male. This was bliss to the young woman's aching soul; it had been so long since she'd last encountered another as well versed in the field of thought as she. He too was an artist, though of a different sort, Ila figured.
Djehanne's art was of the physical form -- her body was the only tool she needed to paint masterpieces and evoke tears from those who witnessed them. It was her prowess that brought light into the world, her feminine charm that danced among the stars. She held a deep respect for those with similar interests and communicated this via a soft lick to Sasi's cheek and up to the base of his ear.

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she kissed him, and armand shook in her arms with a sudden desire to know her warmth. but he did not act on this -- it was a feeling of desperation. the woman was one to whom he could speak, and armand wondered why she did not answer him, but knew also that he was unfit for conversation. and so he curled closer to her, and lay his head back upon the silk of her white robes.
"i have nothing and i am nothing. i long for death with every beat of my heart, and yet i cannot understand it. i am young; i have many years left in me. why should i not live them? what must i do to drag myself from this ... sucking pit?" armand shifted, rolling until he could gaze up into the woman's eyes, and there he lingered a long moment. "i do not believe in any gods, but i cried out to one all the same, and you appeared. perhaps i should not be so full of doubt."[/tr][/td][/table]

His embrace was welcome; expected, even. Djehanne worked her eyes to his, fixated on the young male's strange desire for death. Forcing the croaked whisper, she spoke to him as softly as she could so as not to frighten him with her sheathed voice, Quiet. Immediately, Djehanne looked away, ashamed of such an insecurity. Never had her voice matched her beauty, thus she kept it hidden from the world around her.
Clearing her throat, Ila stood and nudged for the male to do the same. Perhaps he would wish to come along with her on her journey, but if not then that would be where they lay their peace. 

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the woman spoke but one syllable before she rose, forcing armand to move aside. briefly he felt the sting of annoyance, but it mattered not, for it was swallowed up by curiosity. quiet, she said, and heed her he did. it took some expanse of time before armand was able to stand, though he trembled with each step; he moved to her side all the same and met her lovely expressive eyes, the face of upturned flowers in a deluge. words tremoured upon his tongue -- to ask where she would lead, to ask what she would show him -- he said nothing and waited.[/tr][/td][/table]