12-15-2013, 11:35 AM
Erich invited Éva to the moot; the Shadow Lord kinswoman declined the invitation. Informed him that she appreciated his gesture, but that she would rather spend the evening with her children.
"If anything occurs that I should know," she murmured, standing on the front steps of her home, her arms crossed in front of her lean body. Still dressed for work in pencil skirt and hounds-tooth blazer, pearls around her neck. "I trust you will tell me."
There was more confidence in that statement than Erich could know.
----
Charlotte arrives with Erich. They hike in from wherever he parked the truck, and the truth is she does not join him as he urges Melantha to make an appearance at the moot. She listens with an odd solidity and her pale blue eyes dart from packmate to packmate and she holds her tongue but that solidity: to her mouth and to her shoulders. They can tell, with immediate certainty, that Charlotte will support whatever choice Melantha makes, there.
--
There's a puzzled divot in between her brows and this strange, darting look when the moot-right starts with that rhythm, insistent and driving and Charlotte knows music, sure. Has an iPod that Erich and Melantha sometimes find her listening to, curled up in her bed/room, earbuds tucked into her ears, a far away look on her face that is half-way between vaguely puzzled and transported, like she is just figuring out that she could be something else if she just breathed the wrong air.
But this: it is strange. It settles oddly over her skin. Wolves are joining in and joining in and they know this song and it has power crackling through it but the truth is, it isn't Charlotte's sort of power. Her head cants as the rite takes hold; and she is not-quite-breathing the way people breathe and Erich is not-quite-head banging but he's into it too and the only way for the gangly teenager to get to that headspace is to shift.
So she does, and opens her yap, and howls.
"If anything occurs that I should know," she murmured, standing on the front steps of her home, her arms crossed in front of her lean body. Still dressed for work in pencil skirt and hounds-tooth blazer, pearls around her neck. "I trust you will tell me."
There was more confidence in that statement than Erich could know.
----
Charlotte arrives with Erich. They hike in from wherever he parked the truck, and the truth is she does not join him as he urges Melantha to make an appearance at the moot. She listens with an odd solidity and her pale blue eyes dart from packmate to packmate and she holds her tongue but that solidity: to her mouth and to her shoulders. They can tell, with immediate certainty, that Charlotte will support whatever choice Melantha makes, there.
--
There's a puzzled divot in between her brows and this strange, darting look when the moot-right starts with that rhythm, insistent and driving and Charlotte knows music, sure. Has an iPod that Erich and Melantha sometimes find her listening to, curled up in her bed/room, earbuds tucked into her ears, a far away look on her face that is half-way between vaguely puzzled and transported, like she is just figuring out that she could be something else if she just breathed the wrong air.
But this: it is strange. It settles oddly over her skin. Wolves are joining in and joining in and they know this song and it has power crackling through it but the truth is, it isn't Charlotte's sort of power. Her head cants as the rite takes hold; and she is not-quite-breathing the way people breathe and Erich is not-quite-head banging but he's into it too and the only way for the gangly teenager to get to that headspace is to shift.
So she does, and opens her yap, and howls.
But my heart is wild and my bones are steel
And I could kill you with my bare hands if I was free.
- Phosphorescent, Song for Zula
And I could kill you with my bare hands if I was free.
- Phosphorescent, Song for Zula