Swiftcurrent Creek acqua più blu
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#1
All Welcome 
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he had met but one man of these lands: castiel. and though armand had several words to say upon that front, he nevertheless continued on his way, sleeping where he would and surviving off small kills. there was not a drive to live within the boy -- he had lost too much, and found himself tossed like so much bereft jetsam upon the great internal ocean. and so he cared not if he breathed nor if he starved. he sought no solace within a pack; he sought no companion.
presently armand came unto a stream, and while he let his eyes linger on its beauty, ultimately its waters satisfied only his thirst. armand reached 'round to touch his ribs, attempt to touch the point of his hip. each day it grew sharper, the flesh melting from around it. soon he would be dead, and this did not perturb the boy as it would another creature. quietly he drifted to sleep where he sat upon the bank, exhaustion enveloping him.

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#2
It was time to go home. Although Tambourine was enjoying this change in pace and scenery, he knew Stark and Banner would be worrying about him. Plus, he was starting to miss them as well as his other cohorts in the Keep. So he ignored the wild instincts that coaxed him to keep heading south and instead turned back toward the mountains. Before he reached the bypass—once through it, it would be a direct line north to home—he must first cross the cold stream.

He stood on the bank, reluctant to dip his big feet into the frigid waters. The current was quite swift here, so he moseyed along the shore, searching for a calmer or at least shallower place to cross. What he found instead was a bony, sandy shape curled up beside the water. Tambourine came to a stop a few yards away, tail sticking out behind him as he sniffed the air. Although the smaller canine appeared sort of dead, he didn't smell like it...

"Um," the boy rumbled lowly before clearing his throat a little and raising his voice a few octaves, "are you dead?"
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#3
a wild kat appeared! thanks for joining <3

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he had almost reached the point of his dream where he saw the proud arch of his maker's throat. in these visions, the man faced away from him always, only turning his profile when he heard the tread of armand's feet. but this meeting was not to be, for armand's dream dissolved in a bleeding-away of scarlet as a voice sounded in his ear. the boy's eyes opened slowly; he blinked, clearing the webs from his expression.
it was a tall child, a lovely child -- armand did not stir, but drank in the sight of the little vision, who watched him questioningly. his jaws parted; he felt his tongue heavy as velvet in his mouth. "no. but i wish i were," he muttered, a smile curving his lips, cold but edged in warmth, as armand did not mind the company of this one.[/tr][/td][/table]
if i am an angel, paint me with black wings
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#4
:D

The decrepit wolf opened his eyes, which immediately answered Tambourine's question. He felt a loosening in his chest as the stranger lifted his head, regarding him with blinking eyes. He seemed almost fragile, his thin frame still curled on the bank and his bony face turned in the youth's direction. Because of this fineness of feature and slightness of build, Tambourine immediately mistook him for an age mate.

"What?" he said dumbly in reply to the other boy's remark, his brow furrowing in befuddlement. Why would someone wish for death? This didn't compute at all for young and lively Tambourine. "What do you mean?"
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armand knew that he would be met with confusion, and this he welcomed; it granted him a reason to explain the blackness that gripped him so. "death is much more welcoming than life, ragazzino," the forlorn ganymede intoned, shifting himself so that he finally sat upright. his skilled eyes welcomed the hues of the painted child, consuming them as another might a cool draught of water.
death did not take -- death only gave. and in death armand would dream, and dream deeply. he would not be disturbed from finishing the vision of his maker turning to face him, an image burned into the backs of his eyes. what could life offer that death did not? armand knew that this child could not comprehend such things, but he longed to say them all the same.[/tr][/td][/table]
if i am an angel, paint me with black wings
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#6
"My name's Tambourine," he corrected, not unkindly, "not—whatever you just said. You can call me Tam." With that established, he blinked a few times as he processed the rest of the stranger's words. "What do you mean? Death just means you're asleep forever. That's not very fun," he surmised with a bit of a wrinkled nose.

He enjoyed a good night's sleep, of course—who didn't?—but if he had a choice about it, he would never get sleepy and therefore never need to close his eyes for hours at a time. Tambourine was as lively and energetic as they came and could very likely have put the extra hours to good use. Although death didn't necessarily scare him, he just couldn't fathom how someone would want to be inert forever.
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#7
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"tambourine. are you a man of music then?"
armand asked softly. as to the rest of the boy's words, he gave a gentle smile. "the long sleep, it is said. is that not better than -- oh, never mind," armand murmured softly. why should he pour his bitterness into the upturned cup of innocence before him? that was a monstrous action upon his part -- he, destroyed, should not in turn destroy another.
"can you tell me where it is i am?" armand asked instead, lifting his eyes from the boy's own to glance around himself. he was too weak yet to rise, and saw no reason to do so, not with only an unthreatening child for company. "and where it is you come from?" the boy added.[/tr][/td][/table]
if i am an angel, paint me with black wings
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He knew a little bit about music, yet Tambourine was unaware of what it had to do with his name. Truth be told, he hadn't the first clue why his parents had chosen it. He shrugged to say as much. As far as he knew or cared, it was just a random word.

The other boy seemed to drop the topic of death and instead asked Tambourine about their location. "We're here," he answered with a bit of a cheeky smile before adding, "I'm not sure what this place is called. But I live that way." He tipped his head toward the northwest. "I'm from Marauder's Keep. How about you? And what's your name?"
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#9
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the boy's cheekiness elicited a smile from armand, the first genuine show of amusement he had let himself depict in weeks. marauder's keep — there was a name the italian wished to explore! his gaze followed the tilt of the child's head, and he nodded. "it sounds a fine place." to tambourine's inquiry he hesitated only a moment before murmuring, "armand."
"and i come from nowhere. well, i was once with wolves, but they did not like me, so they threw me out." his features grew more animated as he spoke, warming to his half-truth, for he was invested in the reasons for why it was necessary. and there was some part of him that suddenly wanted to impress and awe the child. never mind the reasons armand had been cast out from his coven: for castigating their blood-drinking and flesh-consuming, their cannibalism, not out of hunger, but out of wickedness.[/tr][/td][/table]
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"It's pretty great," Tambourine concurred, then bobbed his head when Armand supplied a name. He stilled when his new acquaintance revealed the he wasn't part of a pack, that he'd been tossed out by his last one, as a matter of fact. The youth's brow furrowed and his lips pursed.

"Who takes care of you?" he wondered, still mistaken in Armand's true age. Although Tambourine himself was fully grown physically, he still depended on Stark and the rest of the pack to keep him alive, so who kept Armand alive? Perhaps this lent itself to their earlier conversation, though he didn't really make the connection.

"And why?" was his next question, head tilting and his "bad" ear flopping over his eye.
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#11
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it was the simplest of questions, for did not his kind tend one another? but armand found himself locked outside that milieu; though he had intended to once more be drawn into the fold, it was never to be. not again. and now, even with winter fast upon his heels, he did not approach a pack to embrace him. his eyes settled upon the child — he observed the wilting of one ear, something he did not think he had beheld before. it granted the boy an interesting spice to an otherwise innocent face. 
"why was i cast out? or why am i not watched by my fellows?" armand laughed softly, willing to admit his confusion only unto the boy called tambourine. it had been an anchoring discourse for him thus far, the broken child who allowed his mind to travel shrouded in a constant haze, if only to guard himself from the agonies of prying words.[/tr][/td][/table]
if i am an angel, paint me with black wings
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#12
He had been wondering about the former specifically, though Tambourine was curious about both. After considering the question for a beat, he replied, "Both." He squinted ever so slightly when the other boy laughed. It seemed sorely out of place in this context. Armand was strange, he decided, albeit with no malice in his judgment. It didn't stop Tambourine from feeling concerned sympathy for his fellow wolf.
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#13
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such a thing the boy asked! armand chuckled with good nature, smiling into tambourine's eyes. "where do i begin?" he shrugged. "they did not like what i had to say i ... challenged the leader," armand said simply, delving into yet another half-truth. "i did not like him, for he made his wolves kill others with no reasoning behind it. and i wanted no more. but his wolves clung to him; they did not wish for me to lead, and so i was thrown out."
"and after this, i have wandered. i have sought no more friends, because i do not like wolves, for the most part. i am afraid that i shall be betrayed again." armand finished softly, cupping his ears toward tambourine, for he was interested to see how the child would respond.[/tr][/td][/table]
if i am an angel, paint me with black wings
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#14
His fellow child (or so he incorrectly assumed) spun a macabre tale. Tambourine wasn't quite sure what to make any of it and remained quiet well after Armand had finished explaining. On one hand, he sort of wanted to offer Armand a family and home, since he didn't have one. But on the other, he was definitely very hesitant on account of the boy's background. Although his reasons for overthrowing his leader made sense, all if it was a lot more drama than the youngster was prepared to bring home with him.

"I'm sorry all of that happened to you." He paused, wondering what he should say next. He wished there was something he could do but this was over his head, if he was honest with himself. Besides, Armand had just said he didn't like other wolves and didn't seek friends. "Well, I'm glad you're not dead, even if you aren't." He paused. "I guess I should get going." He took a single step as he spoke, eyeing the creek again before glancing at the sandy wolf. What was he supposed to say to someone who didn't want a home or friends but did have a death wish? "I hope you're find what you're looking for" just didn't feel appropriate. "Um, take care!"

And without another word—and before he could lose his nerve—Tambourine simply plunged into the frigid waters. He began doggy paddling, though fortunately it was rather shallow and it wasn't long before his toes touched solid ground again. He hoisted himself onto the far side, shook out his soaking pelt, then peered over his shoulder at Armand one last time. He threw him a little grin, then began trotting back toward the Keep.
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#15
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tambourine brimmed briefly with apologies, which armand wished to hush. but he merely smiled indulgently and nodded as the boy took his leave. 'twas a fond chestnut gaze that followed the child as he forded the icy waters and a smile that met the child's grin —tambourine was then gone from view and armand sighed darkly. here now was sleep — he would find reprieve in its arms for a time, and the weakened child thus fell into a fitful slumber.[/tr][/td][/table]
if i am an angel, paint me with black wings