m e k h i (incomplete)

t w e n t y - s e v e n

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t w e n t y - s e v e n 

Conveniently the blizzard of snow ceased to a slow fall as the group thanked Aliyah for her hearty meal and were sent on their way.

The gamma assigned to them was a male with a slender form, lean and not quite captivating to the eye, with brown, mousey like hair and narrowed features. He wasn't anything compared to the lycan males visiting, but then again, nothing really was.

Mekhi didn't think much of the male, beast barely giving him another glance, laying back down magnificently with wondering eyes, and stoic features. He says nothing, gives nothing away. His face is a slate of marble, undecipherable, with thick and dark brows furrowed.

The only thing that manages to penetrate through and capture his attention for the mere moment, is the fact that his wolf refuses to meet eyes with this male, and goes out of her way to look elsewhere, to walk at the opposite side, as far away from him as possible. She walks with a deep pout, unconsciously formed. His lips curves just the slightest, but only makes a mental note to ask her on the matter later. The beast watches with a side eye, down at the puny male.

The Wolf Kingdom was very much homogenous. The streets were the same as the one they had encountered when intruding into Alonso's home, except perhaps the sizes were a tad bit smaller. Paths were caked with thick layers of snow. Trees stood dead, with brittle and wood casted over with a grey tint.

It was quiet. No wolves were out. Not when the beasts were in town.

Doors were shut, curtains were drawn.

Mekhi didn't know what to make of it. It had to be their presence, because it was the peak of the day, and the weather – for the minute – was stable enough to be bargaining and selling at the market, or perhaps harvesting and fishing.

The gamma doesn't show them the scope of lands they owned, for the air was beginning to grow cold once again, and it was much the same. They had already encountered the main landscapes.

Mekhi's half's eyes wonder upon the stretch of the river, far out to the one sole house stood upon wooden planks stuck to the river bed. It's surrounded by a wooden porch, one connecting it back to the land, and the other stretched out. Fishing poles rested towards the ends. It's old and uncared for, outside wood beginning to fray, concrete and paint beginning to peel back. The river has frozen few inches, and further out, there are many pot holes dug into, the swish of the current loud and gruesome beneath.

Teal hues dip down brightly, when feeling warm and small fingers thread through with ink, her head leaning on his arm. Her grip is comforting, and he can't resist the temptation to drop down to give her a kiss on her nose. She gives him a soft smile in return.

"That was my home. Before the beta," is all she tells him.

He's surprised for just a moment, beast huffing. He was her home now, and he didn't like to think she had homes before him.

But it changes into curiosity quickly. He wonders what she was like a child. Whether she was clumsier, and came home with scraped knees. Whether she scribbled on the walls in chalk and crayon. Whether she sat out on the porch in the midst of the night, watching the river and the dark collide.

A peek into her head, she's thinking of the same thing. Ahead of Lazar and Aspen. The few good things.

This was her first home after all.