My Little Canary in a Cage [Fawn w/Eponine]

People dread silence because it is transparent; like clear water, which reveals every obstacle, the used, the dead, the drowned, silence reveals the cast-off words and thoughts dropped in to obscure its clear stream. And when people stare too close to silence they sometimes face their own reflections, their magnified shadows in the depths, and that frightens them. The utter unbroken silence was more appalling than any ominous noise, than the loudest yells of anguish, than the most piercing of scream. He, on the other hand, much believed the opposite; the silence proved to be an advantage, for when people's hearts are set on fearing alternate things, they became more simplistic targets. It was amusing to see them in such a manner, the fact that they dreaded the lack of something so simplistic was pitiful. Not that he was the one that did said pitying, of course.

Speaking of silence, it suddenly became more apparent as the thought of it. The birds ceased their hushed songs (of which he thought irritating, so it wasn't such a loss), the quietened rustling of the trees seemed to dull away. There was a strange scent carrying on the wild, almost like bird, though of a much larger source. Blue irises instinctively traversed the terrain, and briefly hesitating from cleansing the blood stains that littered his limbs, instead resting a hand on the knife sheath upon his belt, though making the action subtle. He blinked slowly, unsure of the exact supplier of the unfamiliar scent. He chewed the inside of his mouth thoughtfully, before returning to cupping water up to cleanse the bleeding wound on his shoulder, frame maintaining a somewhat tensed state in preparation for the strange being's arrival. He recognised the presence nearby long before she approached, daring himself to still act oblivious to the presence.

He hadn't exactly anticipated the unknown creature to approach him quite as soon as she did, hence the approaching footsteps were fairly surprising. Must be a fairly bold critter, to walk blindly up to somebody like that. His hand clutched a little more tightly at the knife, still in it's sheath, the other hand moving to absently swipe a small amount of blood from his arm; best to look presentable for this newcomer, after all. Best to seem friendly, no matter how many miles that was from his true personality.

Feeling the soft bump against his shoulder, the man met her inquisitive gaze carefully, instinctively moving a pace back and pushing himself upright. Blue irises carefully surveyed her frame, though a charming grin promptly passed over his face. "No, ma'am, I'm not lost. Merely taking care of some... Unfinished business. But I could ask what a lovely creature like yourself is doing wandering these woods alone." Other than the claws, seemingly defenceless. The thought was a delicious one, to say the least. Her name slipped so easily from her mouth, with such a lack of caution that he found it hard to believe. Still, he played along. This bitch better not be lying to me. "Eponine," he repeated, enjoying the way the words rolled off his tongue, "The name's Philip, pleasure." Sure, maybe he was hypocritical when it came down to it, hating when others lied to him, but finding it perfectly justified to do so to others. His name was far too distinct for his taste.

W O R D S
God knows.

T A G
Eponine Graves played by RENDEZVOUS.

N O T E S
x3

He grunted a quietened acknowledgement as she spoke once more, his voice still deep, equipped with the faint trace of southern drawl. "That they do." The shrouded darkness of the trees could prove to house many a secret, though her thoughts were likely plenty brighter than his own. The treeline could hide much within the confines of its thick foliage, which made it all the better a spot for him to be, purely due to the way he was.

He looked upon her, nodding perhaps a little too enthusiastically when she stated that it was a pleasure. Oh, you have no idea. Said pleasure drove a little deeper than merely companionship, as most might expect, too; disturbingly so. He barely faltered as she shifted back to her human form, aside from taking a singular pace back and respectfully dipping his head. When his gaze returned, however, they met the pretty little thing, blonde hair and blue eyes. Not green eyes, not brown, but blue. A celestial phenomenon, nebulae as seen through telescopes, the light of unnamed stars diffused through dusts, elements and endlessness, layers upon layers of light. Blue eyes were the starlight. They were crystal blue, a shade that shouldn't exist on the human body; a shade he immediately craved; a shade that caused his heart to race, recognition pulsing through him, momentarily leaving him stunned. Hers were the most perfect blue he'd ever seen; the blue of his sisters.

His own eyes were held wide for a moment, and then slipped to the terrain below, brow furrowed as he buried his deepening lust, restraining the desire to reach out and touch her. A slow, deflating huff left the man, before his gaze returned to her, expression slightly guarded; he hadn't noticed her eyes, not until now. They were... Beautiful. But he wouldn't admit that, no, not to here, for he'd simply bury it beneath fake reactions, as he did everything else. Still, he couldn't help but picture his sister as his gaze set upon her...

He was caught up in his thoughts until she spoke again, and he damn near missed what she said, though he gave a light snort all the same. "Hm? Hoomin?" he questioned, a smirk lighting his features, despite the images of his sister raging through his mind. "I ain't no human. Sure, not quite the pretty little critter you are, but like you nonetheless." He smirked once again in a knowing fashion, though he didn't exactly desire to show her what lay underneath his skin; not just yet, anyway.

Her questioning regarding his activities drew a slight shrug from the man, his eyes briefly trailing to the creek beside them, before returning to the pretty little feminine, showing no signs of the desires boiling in his chest, lest he give them away. Her wording suddenly more complex, for whatever reason. Hell, when the fuck did you get so philosophical, woman? "Well, you could say that," his response was simple, no doubt; perhaps even suspiciously so. He swiftly followed it up, though, recognising that said reply was too blunt. "Boar; got away from me, though. Got me pretty good in the process, too," his voice was no more than a murmur, though he reached a hand up to briefly reveal the wounded shoulder. Afterwards, he sought to promptly tug the clothing back over his shoulder, barely giving any sign of the pain that swept through his arm as he placed accidental pressure on it.

The bipedal's steady hand kept returning to clutchint at the darkly toned leather of the knife's handle, if only instinctively, though  keeping it sheathed, his gaze silently observed the feathered feminine. When she questioned him on such actions, however, his own gaze briefly drifted downwards towards the bayonet, and a slight chuckle left him, fingers sliding away from the tool. "I ain't gonna use this on you, darlin, don't you worry." Not for the moment, anyway. His blue irises expectantly twisted back up to the fellow shifter, his amusement evident.

 

W O R D S
God knows.

T A G
Eponine Graves played by RENDEZVOUS.

N O T E S
x3

Upon her apparent disapproval of the terms used, his own facials knotted briefly into one of confusion, though as she gave his reasoning, he briefly bobbed his head in acknowledgement, turning his gaze downwards. Initially, of course, he had thought nothing of the statement he had produced, though apparently this woman had a deeper knowledge than he had originally suspected. "Hell, I didn't mean anything by it. "He couldn't bring himself to apologise for it, though; he never truly did feel sorry for anybody. Slowly, he sought to approach her, studying her features as he went. "What else is it to be? Grandeur? Pulchritude? Paragon, even?" The words sounded distinctively odd by his tongue, especially considering his Texan roots, though it didn't both him; he merely observed her carefully, drawing fairly near, though a gentle chuckle soon left him, and he eased away, instead seeking to turn his attention to the distant noise of birds within the trees. Annoying little fucks.

Attention twisting back towards the shifter his brow furrowed slightly as her switch of demeanour, only prompting him to cloak it with fabric swifter, ignoring the crimson stain. Her worried tone only deepened said frown. "It's ain't that bad... Fleshwound, scratch, whatever; it's fine." He rolled his shoulder blade for emphasis, and though a sharp pain splintered at his upper arm, he seemed to give no physical reaction, merely staring over at the woman.

Sliding his hand cleanly away from the knife, a slow smile spread across his features as she spoke. "True enough." Though, as she reached for something along the river bed, his brow furrowed in a dangerously inquisitive stare, intense irises fixated upon her limbs, trying the sight what exactly what she had within them.

He wasn't strictly familiar with herbal remedies, that was for sure, thus the sight of the strange plants did nothing to reduce his need to withhold knowledge on the plant type. While faced with the unknown remedy, he was instinctively cautious, shifting himself a pace back as she approached him, though allowed her to do so. His reluctant was evident, distinct in comparison with most of the shifter's further emotions, staring into her blue irises, fighting down the recognition and partial lust. "I don't need it; I told you, it's not that bad." Her explanation was silently heeded, and though a niggling thought in the back of his mind urged him to accept the assistance willingly, somehow he'd seemingly formed a blockade to outside assistance, believing it purely degrading. Her words were fairly odd, her having brought about the notion of eating her, to which he responded with a light, "and why would I do that?" Nobody's as much fun to toy with when they can't physically resist, after all.

He briefly shoved the approaching hand away from him, taking another step back, "Did I not say I didn't fucking need it, woman?" He snapped for a moment, however, his gaze soon drifted back towards the limb. His eyes cast down onto the herbal remedy in hand and, managing to swallow his pride for a good few moments, he tugged at his upper sleeve, revealing the extent of the large wound. He didn't dare meet her gaze at that point, almost as if ashamed to have (somewhat) accepted the external assistance. As the floral substance dropped onto the wound, the man's frame flinched slightly, the sharp pain it brought unexpected. The trembling hands went ignored, his own chest heaving in an irritated huff. His irises narrowed towards the terrain, fairly close to shoving the woman away, though restraining the urges.

W O R D S
God knows.

T A G
Eponine Graves played by RENDEZVOUS.

N O T E S
x3

Relenting to her perpetual insistence with a disgruntled huff, the shifter's irises steadily shifted from the terrain towards the woman's features, examining her carefully, taking in her features. His focus was fairly soon drawn to her own blue orbs, silently studying them with a debatably disturbing intensity. Their shade caused the person behind them to loose relevance; for a good moment or two, he focused purely on them, allowing himself to get lost within their depth. The human language had many synonyms for the word beautiful, though the tongue simply could not describe the intense feelings welling within his chest. However, they were far from heavenly thoughts. He barely noticed the throbbing of his shoulder blade, nor the huff that left the formerly feathered feminine, in his deep train of thought, though as the voice left her, he snapped back into reality, grunting lightly in response. "You learn something new every day, as they say."

His own irises traversed briefly down to her blood stained hands, brow furrowing, finding something disturbing in the fact that it was upon another, of whom he had barely touched as of yet. There had been no conflict, no struggle, and still his blood rested upon her. His hand reached steadily down into his pocket, producing a rag of dark fabric, and turning his gaze back towards her. Sure, the rag wasn't exactly of the finest quality, and was used mostly to keep people... Quiet, but it'd do nonetheless. With only a brief hesitation, he closed the small distance between them in a single, slow stride. With the constant façade ever in play, he plastered on a grin, and extended one hand in attempt to grip her wrist, his grip unusually gentle (for him, anyway; it was actually quite firm; he wasn't exactly used to using a soft hand, after all). Slowly, he made an attempt to bring the rag to her bloody hands, trying to wipe the sickly crimson away. "Sometimes, it is only by way of pain that one reaches pleasure," came his response, glancing up briefly to smile, "but someone once told me that the aim of the wise is not to seek pleasure; only to avoid pain."

Her need to leave, however, was unanticipated, to say the least. He tilted his head slightly, irises rolling over her facials inquisitively; he would have verbally questioned her words, however, his thoughts were pierced as the irritating bird drew close to the pair. In his annoyance, the man chewed a little too hard on the inside of his mouth, drawing blood, though ignoring the metallic taste. Hell, he hadn't tasted bird in too long. Though, when the feminine seemed to communicate with the feathered annoyance, his attention was immediately grasped, irritation replaced with curiosity. "You speaking to it?" He blinked slowly, though his brow furrowed briefly. If she could speak to this bird, then what could it be telling her? What if it ruined his whole charade? "What's it saying?" His voice was a little louder, taking a single pace towards the pair, though only able to watch as the irritation fluttered off. Fuck. Still, he kept his gaze firmly settled upon the feminine, or at least, until she repeated the fact that she was leaving.

With her back to him, he swiftly closed the distance between them, reaching his hand out to touch to the back of her shoulder. "Hey, let's not be hasty now. Where would you even go, hm?" Away from him, of course. And at least for now, that was something he simply wouldn't allow. The fun has barely begun.

W O R D S
God knows.

T A G
Eponine Graves played by RENDEZVOUS.

N O T E S
:3

In silence surveillance of the woman's reaction to his grip, he was met with no apparent resistance, hence proceeded with the gentle cleansing of her hands and lower limbs, ensuring that most traces of the blood found themselves upon the rag instead. Could have the pretty little thing looking scruffy, now, could he? Finalizing the removal of the metallic, crimson hued fluid, his irises traced her skin, confirming the job had been done.

Gaze finally making direct contact with the woman's own, her vocal response drew his head downwards, a light huff drawn from the depth of his chest. "Weakness nonetheless; something that sometimes can't afford to be shown." He hesitated momentarily, his gaze briefly casting towards his shoulder, then back to the woman. "You must take care in who you share weaknesses with, Eponine, for some people won't be able to wait for the opportunity to use them against you." He paused, a frown passing over his features, thoughts of his own weaknesses passing through his mind; if they were to get out, his charade could easily be ended. Maybe the woman would purely see it as friendly advice, who knew. "Mankind could easily ruin that pretty face." However, his train of thought was broken as he felt resistance from her hand, and thus, he allowed his grip to slacken, somehow finding enjoyment in the sensation of accidentally yeah right brushing his skin against her own as her hand fell back to her side, if only subtly, though all he unveiled to the woman was a seemingly unknowing smile. The final portion of her comment only then registered to him, to which he responded with a, "the pleasures of life are there to be experienced, so experience them." What exact pleasures he meant were unclear; could be a number of things when it came to Menelaus.

Searching her facials with renewed curiosity as she briefly hesitated, and as she spoke of its wording, he forced himself not to react physically other than a slight furrowing of the brow; an apparent representation of confusion. Little fucker must have been trying to rat him out, and seemed to have come bloody close, too. This birdspeak business could prove to be a slight disadvantage, when it came down to things. "How strange," he murmured, narrowly resisting the urge to coo the words, though as she went off in her philosophical representation of said monster, he listened carefully. She, in actuality, brought forth a good number of valid points, however, the fine details were not of importance to the sociopathic shifter. He grunted lightly when she cast him the presumably rhetorical question, and his gaze lifted back towards her when she mentioned that fact that she didn't feel the need to fear the words of the feathered critter. He wasn't allowed time to respond before she was motioning to leave, however, and he'd be damned if he was letting his new plaything omfg go this early. He liked to invest his time into these projects of his. dafaq mene stahp Time consuming, perhaps, but worth it in the end. dead

The shifter's frame tensed, limb resting upon her shoulder and staying there, even as she twisted round to look at it. Her response was undoubtably the one many would expect, though with Menelaus being Menelaus, he wasn't satisfied with her merely returning to her residence. Her inquiry as to why exactly he had inquired on that manner, well, he had no good answer to; anything to make her stick around. He wasn't going to admit that, now, would he? The sensation of her hand drawing his away drew an involuntary shot of enjoyment through the man, fighting against a slight smurk that curled the corner of his mouth,  "Me thinking that it'd be an extremely short and... Uneventful venture from your household, is all." Her next comment was oddly worded, no doubt, though somewhat true, in a strange sense. "You could say that," he murmured towards the woman, a shrug rolling his shoulder blades, and a grin settling momentarily on his features. "If loneliness is a form of art, I must be the poster child prodigy." Hell, he wasn't lonely like he stated, not in the slightest; another lie. He wasn't a silenced little twat with nothing other to do than beg for attention, no. He purely needed his little projects stahp please omf mene now and then. Not only for his enjoyment, but to see them crumble. It was one of the only sources of entertainment he had in this dull world. So, he lied for not only him, but for them.

Pale blue irises, darkened by the fading light, studied the woman incessantly, surveying her delicate facials carefully. "If you wish to relocate, then we may do so," his head dipped in a respectful fashion, relenting to whatever wishes she might have had on terms of moving elsewhere. His kind was blessed with good eyesight, unlike the feminine's own, despite common myth that their senses revolved mostly around scent and hearing. But, with thoughts of senses thrown aside, the man was fully prepared to follow the woman wherever she might lead him; even if she didn't request for him to follow, he'd be there. Patience was a necessary in the task; he had to worm his way close to this woman first, gain her trust. All in the name of his sick fun.

W O R D S
God knows.

T A G
Eponine Graves played by RENDEZVOUS.

N O T E S
Oh gawd Mene why you so strange

His irises, seemingly tethered to her facials, studied her reaction with a quietened snort of irritation as her dismissal rose from her throat, and the smile touched her lips. Having meant the comment in all seriousness, he rolled his shoulder blades briefly, the faint throb having been reduced by the herbs but ever present, in a shrug, the man momentarily pursing his lips, before responding. "Maybe you see a different world than I do. It is full of cruel people who do cruel things. The fact that you are alive now proves nothing of the future. This moment cannot be the sole determination of the next." Cruel people indeed. Still, his intent was not to counter, to argue; only to enlighten in likely one of the few things he could, considering she was already fairly intelligent. He hated the thought of another's hands upon her, despite the pair only having been conversing briefly. If anything was to occur in his presence, it would be by his hands, and his alone. That was likely partially due to the fact that she was blonde, and equipped with the familiar blue irises, however, he was rather protective of any of his little projects, so to speak. "Anything that's beautiful, people want to break." But if they break you, I'll make them fucking sorry.

Eyes settling back upon the feminine's facials as she spoke once more, his head tilted slightly, a smirk lifting the corners of his mouth. "A wise woman, no doubt; there aren't enough like you about these days," And a fine speciment, too. His voice was accented by the estranged remnant of Texan drawl, he silently noted the feminine's apparent notice of the chilling breeze, though only gave a lightened grunt of acknowledgement. When she put forth the notion of rambling, however, he shook his head in disagreement, a grin appearing with a,  "no such thing, darlin."

"My home?" a quietened snort left the man, an inquisitive gaze settled upon the formerly feathered feminine, motives behind her inquiry weighing heavily on his mind, if only for a moment, studying her facials before replying. "It varies; sometimes among mankind, sometimes within the wilderness. If you're referring to the human home, it would be in the Deer Springs." He curled his lip slightly in distaste of the simplistic dubbing of the housing estates, and in not being particularly fond of residence among man, he had a natural dislike of any home, to be perfectly honest, despite having been born within his human form. Determined to stick near her, his frame shifted forward as she moved, promptly catching up in a few of his large strides; a bonus of being relatively tall.

As the rustling began, the man's frame followed suit when it came to bracing, his pale irises burned with intensity, and as his sharp eyesight detected faint movement, he deftly shifted his hand to grip the bayonet located upon his belt, studying the foliage carefully. It slowly slackened once again, and he moved to hurry the woman along, though it seemed the woman had the same plan. When she mentioned becoming some mangy mutt's meal, an immediate 'are you serious?' look overcame his facials, snorting lightly. "I'll be damned if I'm ending up mongrel fodder. I can hold my own."

Almost as if to prove said statement, and upon the detection of further rustling within the foliage, his human form swiftly transformed into that of his animalistic counterpart. Thick, ashen brown fur replaced skin, though pale blue irises remained, if only growing icier. Thankfully, multiple scars littering his back from his childhood were cloaked by the dense fur, though the shoulder wound was more apparent, no doubt, curving round said shoulder blade, matting the fur surrounding it slightly in the crimson fluid. It didn't seem to hinder him, though, releasing a gruff grunt towards the foliage, staring intently towards the greenery. He soon twisted, however, butting his head lightly against the woman's side, before moving himself on ahead, his gaze twisted backwards to see whether she followed. "Dog meat my ass," he muttered, accented with a slightly playful rumble from his throat.

W O R D S
God knows.

T A G
Eponine Graves played by RENDEZVOUS.

N O T E S
Psssh x3