a message to those who wander | joining

[EVANGELINE S.]

The wind carries her elsewhere.

Evangeline's last thoughts are of home—an endless sea of white mist permeated only by a wooden throne, carved into the largest tree, towering above nowhere. The taste lingers as if she had not left, but when her eyes peer out onto the bleeding sunrise crowning the ocean, it changes from ice to salt. There is no throne, there is no mist, there is only the sand and the sea and the tall, soggy dog staring thoughtfully from the bank.

The air gets warmer. She rises from her paws and walks, gingerly, keeping her weight spread between three paws and keeping the fourth, a front paw, raised to her chest.

It bleeds red.

She has never bled red before.

Gingerly, Evangeline continues her walk, until she finds her path blocked by a concrete wall lathered with writing. On one of her hangs a bell, on the other a basket—she peers into the basket first, and she grimaces to find a writhing black mass of snakes within. She has never seen such serpents before, but she decides to take the safe route and avoid investigating further.

Instead, she turns her attention to the ostentatious bell.

Evangeline balances on her hind legs carefully before batting the bell with her uninjured paw. It chimes quietly, nearly dwarfed by the insistent crashing of water against shore. As she lowers herself to a seated position, bleeding limb still tucked close to her chest, she wonders if anybody outside of her kind would even hear such a delicate sound against the ocean's cacophony... someone should be able to, she decides.

After all, she used to think that her homeland is vast and endless, and yet here she stands beyond the edge of their world, dwarfed by a landscape that stirs something restless within her.

It's undeniable proof that anything is possible.

The mist is not vast.

Their world is not endless.

The throne does not see all.

Evangeline frowns; this discovery makes her feel less like a voyager and more like a lost girl who has been led away from home. A stranger. A stray.

[ROXANNE R.]

[glow=white,1,400]I LOVE YOU, CANNIBAL QUEEN ! — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

The sound of the bell ringing caused the small felines ears to prick up, she had been resting within the safety of her home. It had dragged her out of her current thoughts that had been pulling at her mood as of late, a soft sigh escaped her lips and rose slowly with a lash of her fluffy tail. The chubby Privateer leaving her porch and made her way to the direction of the bell that still rung until eventually it stopped chiming, her eyes half closed and listening to the sand move behind her. Her saltwater crocodile companion ambling behind her, Roxanne's eyes eventually locking onto the sight of an injured canine. The smell of copper hitting her nostrils powerfully, the feeling of saliva pooling within her shut maw rising. The Privateer swallowed only to offer the stranger a sweet smile with worry dancing within her mismatched gaze, her head tilting to the side as she would mew "Are you lost, my dear? What's your name?" She moved the wings on her back a bit to adjust them to a more comfortable position only to nod slowly to the canine.

"My name is Roxanne," Roxanne would take a few steps forward only to press her ears against her cranium only to tip her head forward "You're hurt... I can help you if you'll let me," She continued to speak in a gentle voice not wanting to possibly startle Evangeline away from her. [glow=COLOR,1,400] ━ ✧*:･ﾟ[/glow]

[EVANGELINE S.]

There's a curious expression on Evangeline's face as a lone figure emerges from the distance. While she's seen her fair share of unusual creatures, she doesn't think she's seen anything quite like the stranger before her. With her unusual coloration and thick fur, she reminds Evangeline of a ki'iro, but ki'iro do not grow horns, nor do they speak in a language that she can understand—

She startles at that. The stranger speaks with a foreign tongue, but somewhere between her ears and her brain, they morph into something that she can comprehend, and it's odd and unusual and it's never happened before. "I am—" She stutters to a halt, looking even more confused, as her tongue shapes words that they have never shaped before. This is not her language, and yet her body claims otherwise, untangling the words and reforming them into something that she can grasp.

"I—I'm sorry," she answers quickly, realizing that she must have been staring, and it would be incredibly rude to continue doing so. She gives her head a shake and decides to accept the fact that she can somehow understand and speak a language she has never known. Nevermind the insanity of it all; she is lost and somehow bleeding, she should focus on more pressing matters first. "It's just... I didn't think I would encounter anyone I would understand? I'm sorry, I should not be wasting your time. I..."

She looks down at her injured limb, wrapped in open wounds from the back of her paw to just below her shoulder, red marks spiraling around its length as if it had been caught and wounded by a rope. A very sharp rope, perhaps. "Yes, I'm afraid I don't know where I am. I was on a vessel and then I was not? I woke up with this," she motions to the leg with her muzzle, "and I don't think I should be bleeding like this. I—sorry, you asked my name, right? I'm Evangeline Saray of the Schaefer Vo'adna. I... I don't know what's going on."

Her eyes warm, and she quickly dashes her paw across them out of fear that she may have started bleeding there too—but instead she finds only dampness, uncolored. "My eyes are leaking water..." Evangeline turns towards the stranger again, looking shell-shocked, and when she speaks again, her voice begins to tremble violently. "I don't know what's going on," she repeats, before letting out a soft sob.

[trojan g.]

He knew not of other worlds and other places, and simply of the ocean and of the Typhoon. Other groups that were scattered around the island were put someplace far back in his mind, and even the small idea of anything else had not yet been introduced, so the sound of the word 'vessel' that came from the female's lips only caused questions for the male. He thought of ships and of small little boats that could be found scattered around the wreckage of their territory by beaches, but nothing else. He had not seen a ship in the ocean for a long, long time.

Coming forward, the giant beast of a creature would look down upon those there, his cousin and the stranger, and he would offer a smile. "Eyes leaking is tears I think?" He would speak out, trying to remember what it was that he'd been told, for tears don't come from eyes when living in the ocean, "And this is Typhoon, home to many, and home to you as well if you wish? Could make the wound better." It would likely be best for her to stay here until her wound was better, at the very least, "If hug would make better, I would offer? I am Lutum but you can call me Lute."

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[Keona.]

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If I fall, get knocked down, pick myself up off the ground

Softly, the tiny Dealer padded forward, halting besides Roxanne and Lutum.  Rounded ears twitched, perking towards the sound of Evangeline's voice.  Slowly, her head inclined upwards, pale sea-green hues soft.  The stranger sounded distressed.  The metallic scent of blood in the air.

"You're safe here," the fae offered quietly.  It must be jarring, she mused, to be in one place, then another the next.  With injuries too.  Keona bowed her head slightly, wearing a gentle smile.  Hopefully the stranger would be reassured by all their offers of help and shelter.

✯ — keona sibéal ní faoláin. female. dealer of the typhoon. blind. rusty spotted cat.  ref. bio.

[EVANGELINE S.]

The next stranger is... larger. Much, much larger than any living thing Evangeline has ever seen, and her watery golden eyes move up, up, up, until it meets the face of the creature. For a fleeting second, something thick lodges itself into the back of her throat, but then the creatures voice fills the air and allows the weight to dissipate from her shoulders. "Tears?" There's a soft, sobbed laugh that jumps from between her teeth, and she brushes against her eyes again—some of her fur catches on the wound, staining itself red, but she doesn't seem to notice. "I have never... expelled tears before? Or bled. Bleeding is—our kind does not bleed like this, I—no. It seems I do bleed, yes?"

There are still traces of panicked sobs in her voice, but she forces herself to steel the uncertainty wavering in her tone. For all her effort, however, the sides of her lips continue to tug downwards, held there by the realization that she is wounded and far from home.

Another creature approaches, much smaller than the second one, and the small feline echoes the others with their sentiment. Safe, they say. Safe... and home? Evangeline doesn't fully comprehend—the Beyond has always been her home, but perhaps she can stay. Perhaps she can stay and heal and figure out where she could go from there... but what of her kinsmen?

"Thank you, but I—" She stops.

She stares.

Their faces are kind faces. Odd faces, so different from what she knows, but there is a tenderness to the air surrounding them that hits her and nearly carries her off of her paws. There is warmth, she thinks, beyond the warmth that the rising sun brings; it transcends the physical and it grabs her, holds her tight, digging deep into her chest and keeping her from running away.

It's with that thought in mind that she finally nods, a trembling dip of her pointed snout. "Yes, I think I would like to... be helped? And to—I mean, if that's alright, to stay for a while in this... group?" She pauses for a second, looking thoughtful, before adding in a smaller voice, "I think I would like a hug, too. At least—at least I do know what a hug is."

[bubblegum]

[roan ;]

[div style="width: 45%; text-align: justify; font-size: 12pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: times new roman;"]♡ — Distress. The taste of it on the air was enough to grab Roan's attention, the young boy having never liked it when others were in trouble. He supposed nobody really liked it when their clanmates were in trouble, but some people were able to ignore it. Roan was not one of those people, immediately drawn towards the sound of voices and sobbing when it reached his ears. He didn't know how exactly he would be able to help, but he felt like he needed to. Dark paws pressed quickly against the sand as he came trotting up alongside his mother, one of his mint colored wings brushing against her side in a sort of hello. The scent of blood reaching his nose made his frown deepen, but it seemed as though the bag slung around his waist would not be needed, at least for today. Goldie had thankfully managed to bring her own supplies, although the apprentice piped up softly to his cousin, "Uhm... if you want any bandages instead of webs, Goldie, I've got them in my bag." He knew that cobwebs would work perfectly well in a pinch, but he found that he preferred bandages, since they were more absorbent and easier to come by, at least without ripping the webbing to shreds. He knew that he needed to be careful with his supply, however, since he was beginning to run out thanks to his taking care of Aphra twice over now. At least it seemed as though his helping had made it so that her wounds healed well. That, at least, he could be grateful for.

With the medical part of the encounter taken care of, Roan turned his gaze towards Evangeline, taking in the state that she was in. Aside from just the injuries, it seemed as though she was upset. Far away from home and near tears, just as he had been when he had sought refuse in the Pitt. His blue eyes softened at the sight of her, desperately just wanting to soothe her and dry her eyes. The best he could do was try to make her feel welcomed, he supposed. Stepping forward, the draconic siamese smiled warmly up at Eva, still young and small, at least for the moment, "Hello there, miss. Welcome to the Typhoon. My name is Roan Ó Faoláin-Roux. I've lived here my entire life, so... you can trust me when I say you'll be happy and safe here, for as long as you want to stay. You can even come visit with me and my mama! I'm sure we'd be happy to show you around." He felt a bit guilty, offering up his mother for something when he still felt as though he didn't even deserve to be around her. Still, despite his own ever present guilt, Roxanne had not shown any kind of anger or hatred towards him, instead just treating him as she always had. It was almost confusing, still receiving his mama's warm love when he felt as though he didn't deserve a second of it.
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