Mackenzie Falls

addressed: faye / thoughts / voices / speech
The skies above him were in tinted October, splashed with blotches of colours that didn't seem to have or desire any order. It created it's own artwork, the sky, splattering what it had everywhere and setting the standard. It was what anyone could call beautiful, relaxing, heartwarming. As a shiver ran down Gary's spine and a deep, thick ache ran through his chest, his aquamarine eyes fell to a curved root emerging from a borderline tree awkwardly. It's deep chocolate wood tangled briefly in the troposphere and then collapsed back into the gritting surface of the woods. He couldn't exactly claim that, though, that the meadow was gritty. Soft, cushiony pillows of leaves spreaded for miles at extent, the vibrant tones providing reasonable competition with the sky. In clashes of the battle for perfection, the two land elements writhed like wights until ceasefire was necessary, then summoning artillery upon each other once more. Sunset was when the titans unleashed their full power, overwhelming her and anyone else who was paying attention remotely with the euphoria of seeing something so unnaturally (or, ironically, naturally) beautiful. But not quite as distracting as the other things in Gary's constricted mind.

As the October winds chilled Gary's thin layers of fur, seeping through the brilliant alabaster and whipping his core, serenading it in a breeze of mild violence. This forest was practically a wind tunnel already, he thought bitterly. If the mainland was on in a blazing inferno, then this part of the woods would be a moderate fall. Right now it was overwhelmingly cool, but the radiating heat of the sun was nothing more than a single strand of fabric; a gentle fabric that wanted to keep him warm as much as it could. Fabric was such an unfamiliar specimen for a wolf to wear, though. The only piece of the stuff that he'd ever seen, he'd picked up off of a few tree branches in the woods and, after much of a hassle, managed to fit the silkily smooth texture around his ankle as some sort of a guard; a memento of theft. It had ripped quickly.

Tile #27: Tears and Bruises

Next to the pool of water was a maned wolf; bright reddish brick and white in other places like the bright of his skin. Gary has yet to makes a friend; he realized. It has just been a continuous process of rejection. Quietly, he looked at her in chagrin. Was this conversation worth it?

Taking a step forward, Gary muttered, "Nice catch!" referring sarcastically to the plump rat that had scuttled into the cracks next to her. He smirked.

addressed: faye / thoughts / voices / speech
Always, Gary had been terrified of the maze of darkness, vines, and regret that was called the woodland -- the forest. Smack dab across the middle of the basic territory map was a giant slab of abandoned wood. There was something mysterious about that wood, Gary knew, even despite his lack of investigation there. Some untold tale, some tangy story that needed to be told but couldn't be. If that made sense. The world was full of grown children that would never learn to share or care about anyone but themselves, but why did that even matter anymore? There was a pack in these lands. A pseudo-civilization, mocking the collapsed failure of humanity. Carelessly, they'd used up their resources and made choices that ended up to be unrecoverable. They fell back, but have nobody to rope them back up. Anyway, everything that Gary had he counted as loss. Everything, a distraction. He was a messenger, and where was she now? Roaming throughout the woods without a pinpointed destination, tripping in brambles, roots, and other things he didn't even question. Everything inside of him surrendered to the acute patterns that the forest had woven for his pleasure. Pleasure. As a good citizen, he was supposed to make others happy, when happiness wasn't anything but a concept. To help make himself stronger, he'd taught himself that emotions were weakness and none of them even existed; that feeling happiness, love, sadness, truth, and other similar stances of submission were all just mundane concepts to make wolves feel better about their actually pointless traumas.

'Oh hello...And thanks....would you like some?' She asked, looking at him cautiously. Perfect. They were equally as socially awkward. This would make for a great conversation consisting of glares and forced smiles.

Tile #28: Abyss

"No thanks -- just a viewer," Gary flashed a toothy smile. Not the best move.

addressed: faye / thoughts / voices / speech
He'd never been a fan of being alone in the woods for as long as she could remember, Gary thought, passing over a moss-covered stump and a few specimens of fungus. Parents told their children to keep away from the dark forest to protect them from the monsters that lurked, while Gary currently had her life on the lines from one of those. He could've listened. He should've never run away from home without his brother and his father. He'd put two lives on the line and in the trash can; his own and his friend's. But what would this pack think when he was dead? He didn't care if it would hurt or if he'd suffer or what he'd have to do. Death was in the delivery. But his mother, she'd be ruined. Scarred. Maybe. She was perfectly sociable. She'd probably get another mate in the snap of the fingers and have another son. His legs trembled partially because of the thought and partially because of the bullets of dread, taking a fall with allegiance to the crashing in his mind. Death was necessary. Appropriate.

He'd waited for death since he's made the choice to separate from his family; he couldn't deny it. Since then, he'd watch his own friend, suffer. His throat so acutely and perfectly sliced straight through the tendon, rendering him perfectly useless. Whoever this forest killer was knew what he was doing. But who was he to object? He was thin, malnourished, unhappy, ineffective at anything but regret. His conscience was clear, though. He owed nothing. Gary had always done a good job with fulfilling deals and making sure others were happy, even if he would end up paying the ultimate price for it in the end.

'I'm Fayanna,' she introduced herself quietly, meeting his dulling gaze with a flick of the ears. Suddenly bored, she'd leapt at the rat and killed it in one lethal bite. Impressed, Gary nodded.

"Perfect execution of the bite. The rodent didn't stand a chance. It was dead within seconds..." his inner scholar was showing. It was kind of a side effect of running away. "Gary." He introduced himself quietly, eying her in a judgmental way.