｢ IN THE WOODS SOMEWHERE / OPEN ｣

[GARRETT]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]/ this is unnecessarily long lmao. random 1-2am muse spike. he's just sitting around building stuff out of spare parts, you don't have to match this or anything lmao.

Perhaps it was just melodramatic teenage angst, but the longer Garrett stayed in one place, the more certain he became that he would never fit in anywhere. Even back at home, he remembers how he started being a bother. Too big to slip between his parents' feet, too small to do any heavy lifting. His dad's paw would collide with his head and there would be a frenzy of apologies that bled to aggravation when he realized that he wasn't hurt too bad. Be more careful. So he'd jump out of the way, say yes, and feel his skin burn a little bit. His mother would check on him later and they would — they would build. That was how he dealt with things, it was how he felt better. Even in The Typhoon, he'd turned to fidgeting whenever he could. This way he stayed out of the way and kept his paws busy. His head too. Today, it's that distraction he finds himself craving again, just something to do with his paws.

The young canine is soaked and so is everything he touches. There's a little concentration-filled frown on his face, mouth twisted a bit. Even though the rain had let up half an hour ago, it still manages to make his life difficult. Spread out in front of him, organized biggest to smallest left to right, are all sorts of gears, wires, nuts, bolts and springs. Like this, they don't seem like much. But every little piece is all he has left of home. Until he finds his way back there, every part has to stay with him. So everything he builds is subsequently destroyed and put back together another way. That's the phase and Garrett's currently in, staring at all of the pieces and wondering what else he can make. He's already made a few different robots, though one could hardly stand on its own and the other had to be manually moved every time you wanted it to take a step, and boy that was hard with only teeth and paws.

This time, he starts building without a plan. He twists the ends of two wires together, then another, and another. It forms something of a spine, though it flexes in a way that no living creature could. A head goes on one end. It's long the way his own snout is long, but it doesn't have a bump for the forehead. No eyes, either — he's learned to use his imagination for things like this. As more parts are added on, wires wrapped around bolts and held in place with nuts, interconnecting pieces for the limbs and tail. It's not really a dog. Or a cat. It has four legs and a really long tail, but not much else. Garrett's expression only seems to sour further once it's completed, eyes narrowed and brow drawn. But it's not angry, really. It's not dark. A little angsty, but what about him isn't? Mostly he looks sad, because what he has in front of him lacks his family's touch.

"Tô com saudades de você," he mumbles to the creature, but it's not home.

[Grimm]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 420px; line-height:120%; font-family: arial; font-size: 8.5pt; text-align: justify; margin-bottom:5px"]Fiddling, twisting, curling about the structure of fingers and plans – or within the case of the youth the paws toned within gentle shadings of lilac – was within the quiet beat of the heart a want mirrored, touched upon both though differences were present. They knew not the rough touch of one deemed parent, those three given the title of father never rough when it came to the children, love within action, affection in gentle gaze. Yet so too had it not been the structure before him, the shaped metal of bolts and cogs, the washers to keep all together, the splintered edges of wires as from the protective plastic it poked through.

No, they knew other things, found within the joy of creation in aspects of more simple lines if one may deem it such. Cloud had once it been, the heavy haze of flour about both youth and father, laughter echoing in the small space of kitchen. The clatter of metal lid sliding once more into its place atop the glass container, within contained mixture to assist, sooth the pain of injury. Harsh the scrape of fine hairs bound to the wood, held by a simple band of metal, joy within the hum arising from where teeth held. Pleasant had it all been, simple activity brought about an end product that had not found upon itself the touch of light, sweet the innocence of child as about their work they had gone, light the heart within hollow chest, musical the laughter trailing upon edge of tongue.

Twitch of ear toned within soft shadings, soft the exhale, sigh touching brief upon lips. Weak was the vision impaired by the clouding build up obscuring the sheen of blue slow to take the colouring which touched the veins within, pale the odd tones of green, apparent about the thick fur the smell of watermelon. Oddity within all were they, different from the other in more ways then they may wish to admit. Shift of wings from where they had settled about the back, lift of them, ruffle of the covering of cream toned down. Slow the retreat of it, or may it be the mere aspect of growth limiting their reach, the fine bones and stretched skin of a deeper cream tone showing in brief glimpses. Again they settle, find the curve upon either side of spine, lift of slight weight about a slim body.

Easy those first steps, though within hesitance. Difficult had it been to learn of the demise of family, those few of them depleted until only the youth and those deemed their siblings remained, or so it may be thought, gentle the curl of frown as thought arose. It had been a day or so since then, dreary the weather as though to reflect the quiet storm roiling about their head, touching upon thought that had grown sluggish. Clatter of items, metal touching upon each other and then – a voice, words unfamiliar. It mattered not their own familiarity with a language beyond the common tongue this was one they had no knowledge of, slight the tilt of head as curiosity worked through the darkness of surface thought.

“Salve,” voice rose in uneasy tone, press of slight smile as small paws shuffling. Kai had not spoken to another, refusing to be present within the company of other no matter their once former want for such, seeking others as though they a moth and the gentle company of another the flame they so sought. Might it be something was growing better or the faint want was arising once more, touching upon the heart left shattered, fragments broken until nothing was left beyond the screaming darkness. “What are you doing?”