Plaything"Your tail is so cute!" Wren swayed Astrid's little freckled tail between his fingers, back and forth, back and forth. Ever since she revealed it to him, he wouldn't stop pestering her about how badly he wanted to play with it. With the tilt of her head, Wren asked, "How come you always hide it?" "Mmm," Astrid mumbled, "I feel like that's obvious enough. Don't you think it'd be strange seeing a person with a tail hanging from their backside?" He looked up for a second, considered his options, and cordially grinned at his friend. "I'd find it interesting. Nobody else has one like you! Unless they're hiding theirs too, hehe..." Wren was always in awe about something when it came to Astrid, and she didn't fully understand his fascination. It sort of bothered her in a way, and not particularly a bad one... It was a way in which it made her chest fill with an unfamiliar warmth and an unnerving wrack of the heart; a way in which he forced her guard down and made it impossible to let it back up. Her red tuft of hair waved to and fro in Wren's grasp as he waved it around, almost as if she was a baby playing with a new toy. "Woah!" Suddenly, it flicked! “Did you do that?" Astrid buried her head into her palms and huffed, absolutely reddened in the face. "No.""Do you control your tail or does it work on its own?" "I can control it." "So you did do that...!" Another flick! Astrid swiftly wrapped her head around and clutched her tail. "Okay, that's enough! No more playing!" "Aw man, already? That was only, like, one second!" A sad huff escaped Wren as he stared solemnly at his friend, but that sorrow was immediately wiped out by...Wren being Wren. "Well, I had fun with it," he assured, dusting off his knees as he picked himself up from off the ground. "And like I said, it is pretty cute, Red. You should leave it out more often." To this, Astrid’s heart swelled and its throbbing sensation never stalled, just like it always does with him. It's never ending, each and every time. “Psh, whatever…” She wouldn't trade it for the world.Wishful ThinkingOut of the corner of Wren’s eye, he noticed Astrid's agitated, ever-reddening complexion, and it would be an understatement to say he simply enjoyed it. It was so incredibly easy to get under her skin and rile her up, and she just lets him… It may just be a bit of wishful thinking, but sometimes, deep down, he wonders if she enjoys this too.safeLuna stared at the still face of her mother hung up on the wall. Her mother looked down at her, proud above the dim fireplace and the urn atop it, as Luna spun her sword in her hands. Luna's claws traced over the delicate patterns etched into the grip. Her mother's name– Artemis – shone at her between twinkling stars and crescent moons. Soft voices reached her, from somewhere beside her. Behind the bedroom door, her father shushed her younger sister, whispering soothing words into her ear. He told her that Luna would never want to hurt her, but her panicked breaths didn't slow. Luna looked down at her claws, and saw that full moon night again. She watched her trembling hands turn into viciously clawed paws in front of her, felt her bones and muscles reshape themselves with sickening cracks and a flash of moonlight– she heard screams, from her father and from her sister, the memory so clear and yet so fogged– and she awoke in the storm cellar at the break of dawn, with loose chains meant for something bigger wrapped around her wrists. Her sister's arm still hadn't healed from that night. It hadn't been that long since, yet it had been long enough that soon, the light of the moon would again unleash the beast inside of her. Soon. Only a few more days. She felt it, somewhere in her chest, scratching at the walls in anticipation. She looked back to her mother. Her father said the curse came from her. Every full moon, she'd transform into a beautiful white wolf, with long fur that shined in the moonlight. She died before Luna could learn from her. She died before she could teach Luna how to tame the beast. She died before Luna could be like her. She had to keep her family safe. Her family, her home… She was a guardian, a silver warrior like her mother, who donned her armor and blade to protect. How could she protect with that beast inside of her? How could she be a guardian when she was the monster? If she cannot stop the beast inside… The note to her father already sat on her nightstand. Her bag already held everything she'd need. Her cloak would keep her warm as she entered the snowy night. She would ensure her family would be safe. Luna stood up. Her grip on her mother's sword tightened. She stepped forward and touched her forehead to the fireplace's hem. "I leave my name with you, mother," she whispered. "I know it will be safe with you." She sheathed her blade, turned to the door, and stepped out into the cold. The moon watched her, from its place high in the sky, beyond the tallest of trees, tallest of mountains. With a trembling sigh and shaking hands, she closed the door and vanished into the night.(Yllithae AU) Market DayThe market is too loud and impossibly large to be contained in such a small alleyway. Matteo wonders, glancing over the crowd, how any of them manage to stay sane in the bustle of it all. He’s barely been on the street for an hour and already his head is spinning. Everything in the marketplace is squeezed between two long rows of buildings - vendors, customers, pickpockets and all. Many of the merchants have awnings dyed eye-catching colors, or woven with intricate designs. Those who can’t afford such niceties have blankets rolled out between stalls, down side-alleys, all they have to offer plainly set in front of them. Guards stand watch at intervals, talking amongst themselves or otherwise staring into space. Matteo’s eyes slide from one curiosity to the next as they slowly push through the crowd. He can see cages in one stall, small ones closer to the front and larger ones lining the back walls, and even still more outside, taking up a part of the walkway. Inside sit various creatures he’s not seen before; In some of them are little reptilian things, all tooth and claw and scale. In others strange feathered beasts wrap in on themselves, peeking out from behind delicate wings. In the largest of the cages stands a creature so close to a human that one could be mistaken for kin alike were it not for the unsettling silver shifting beneath their skin and the dead-eyed, vacant stare. The vendor barks the names of these creatures to passerby in a thrilling, captivating voice, but Matteo can’t seem to catch the words in his mind long enough to remember them. In another stall, pots and bowls large enough to fit a child inside stand at attention. Along the walls perch smaller, delicate little ceramic pieces. Finely sculpted scenes painstakingly carved into each surface, glazed in impossibly bright azures, creamy yellows, harsh reds. Matteo catches Ellis glancing at them, and then away, very quickly. The price for any of them is too great, certainly, and for all the world Matteo can’t understand why a vendor of such fine pieces would deem fit to sell them here. Moving on there are several stalls in a row full to excess with food - all of which smell wonderfully tantalizing. Matteo’s mouth waters as they pass by. Little fruits collected in bowls, overspilling with bounty, bunches and bundles of herbs and spices and dried meats hang from twine strung around the edges of the stalls. One in particular is the source of the most drool inducing scent of them all; A small stall with a fire pit set into the back of the house it’s attached to, with a fat bellied pig roasting atop. ‘They must own the house, ’ Matteo thinks as he passes by, neck craning to continue taking it in. ‘I can’t imagine living here… ’ Strangers shuffle past on either side, part of the ebb and flow of the market as a whole. The lifeblood of the city. Each person has an entire life, a whole world of their own, different in style and look and feel to the next. Watching them is entertaining on its own, he thinks. Strong bodied women, basket under arm, trundle past with coin purse in hand and more tenacity than any warrior. Children scatter through the crowd amongst the various skirts and robes, chasing the strays down alleys and up stairways. Couples and groups walking together, chattering away in hushed tones, only to exuberantly brighten with a laugh here and there. Each and every person has a purpose here. Matteo feels misplaced amongst them. ‘How am I supposed to blend in with this, when these people have more life in them than I’ve ever had? I can't pretend to know this. If this is humanity, I'm unsure I can count myself among the human. ’ The sense of othering leaves him uncomfortable and distracted. With no tether to the people and places around him, hopelessness rears. Out of his depth by miles and miles, the reality of his dire situation comes to focus once more. With a slow movement he reaches out before him and grasps Ellis’ hand. He needs a lifeline, a connection to the here and now. Anything to feel less like a stain on bright parchment. For what it’s worth, Ellis doesn’t balk. He doesn’t slip his hand away in disgust, he doesn’t swat at him for having the audacity to do it, no, the stoic man simply takes his hand and squeezes it, equally grateful to have a tether he can hold onto. Chimes ring as a breeze pushes into the market, flowing through the stream of people like a gasp of air after a long dive. The collective sigh of the crowd makes them feel as one, alive. Both Matteo and Ellis can feel the shift around them, and in that shift can feel their own disjointedness. Ellis tugs Matteo closer, exchanging hand for arm, and keeps him tucked close to his side. Matteo is glad for that - for the protective gesture of it. He can feel eyes on both of them from somewhere, perhaps everywhere, as if the city itself had shifted a judgmental gaze upon the outsiders. A preposterous notion, but one nevertheless entertained with a paranoid thought.Cat Colony DrabbleChance was all smiles within those walls. He brought in many customers at the casino today. He was tired after keeping up the facade for so long, and let out a happy sigh once he reached his bed. He didn't mind putting on that fake smile and concern to pull in more interest. It helped the casino, and it looked good for him. He may not completely care what the other Blackjack members think, but he might as well make himself look good, right? Who knows, maybe he'd get paid even more eventually. The next morning was his day off. Chance put on his favorite jacket and headed outside with a small bag in his pocket. He checked his surroundings before heading off to a nearby abandoned field. Chance took one last look around before shaking the bag in his hand. He had a faint smile as he saw his favorite cats from the local cat colony, and held out some of the food in his hand. "This is all I have for now. I'll bring more later tonight." He pet the first cat to come up and eat from his hand. This big guy was probably his favorite from the whole group. Chance had a genuine smile as he spent time with the cats. He couldn't spend too much time here unfortunately. Didn't need any of the Blackjacks to see his soft side. No one needed to see it in his opinion. These cats were his little secret, and one he'd only share to someone he'd fully trust. Too bad that person is gone now. Who knows if he'd find someone he actually trusted. After about an hour, Chance got up and said his goodbye to the colony, with promises that he'd bring more food later. He'd make sure the cats were well fed. They were probably the only ones he did consider friends. Could cats be friends? He didn't know, nor care. He felt happy around them and that's all that mattered.Sunlight.