A Prize for a Wolf and Crow [BeneathTheTides x TheShyWriter]

[BeneathTheTides]

5:00am
The time was announced by sharp electronic trill of that alarm clock beside the bed, and hand moved out from the covers to silence its incessant calling. Eyes of dark brown opened themselves to the midnight shadows that had yet to be banished by dawn, and the darkness there in the space between the bed and the ceiling overhead looked back at him.

5:10am
Sweat pants were pulled on, socks, shoes, and sweat jacket sealed up the rest of his bare flesh. Moving towards the door, he strapped that cell phone of his to that holster like thing on his arm, and groggily set himself to the task at hand. Earbuds were tucked into the shell of his ears, and music began to pour soft and eager to guide him forward on another one of his early morning jogs.

5:15am
He was running through the shadows that still clung deep and thick to the world. He cut through them like a crow’s wing caught upon a thermal draft, and every graceful step of his was soft as feathers fall. There was only the silence of nocturnal life having fallen asleep, and day life yet having to rise from their slumber. It was peaceful. It was a sense of being alone with his ears filled with the symphony of violins, cellos, drums, and other voices of instruments.

Dressed in black upon black, he was just a mere figure running down the sidewalk, but none would know that. At this hour not even the early morning dog walkers were about, they like him had their chosen hours of the day when to pass by these places.

No, there was only those streetlamps to keep him company, offering their meek puddles of light to splash through as his strides carried him through those isolated pockets of illumination.

He was alone to soar through a dieing night that would be cast aside by another dawn.
He was alone to feast upon the corpse of another day.

Tobias Napier was unseen, unwitnessed in his passage through this world that he felt so detached from.

6:10am
Lungs, below the lines of bone known as ribs, moved in the heavy steady rhythm of breaths, but they time to time wavered all the same from the exertion. He had pushed himself hard to get here, and yet that was the origin of the very point. Every day Tobias was growing faster and stronger. Even if his body at the moment burned at the pace that he had pushed himself to, today it was easier. Tomorrow it might simply be easy.

Hands placed themselves upon his knees as he bent forward, and Tobias steadied there below that single last street light that had been placed here in the cul de sac. Breathing returning to comfortable patterns, and sweat dripping from forehead, the man took just a moment to let his body hum in that wonderful feeling of having been worked.

At last, after a minute of rest, he straightened himself to his full height of six feet, and turned his attention outward. Dark eyes fluttered out towards those darker lit houses that lined the circular strip of pavement at the heart of this little dead end that lead back into itself. One by one he mentally listed the names on those mailboxes that he traveled passed daily, a habit of his that made them seem like old friends.

He walked slowly, letting his body wear down from the heat, having a moment to stay moving yet restful.

Gently his hand went out to pat the newest addition to those silent metal friends that he passed on the routine of these jogs. The name of Smith emblazoned on the last of these mailboxes for the newest and current occupant that slept there in that white house with blue trim, and only in passing did he allow his eyes to glance at those dark windows.

There was time yet for that mortal sin of Greed, but right now it was time to get moving.

6:30am
Showered and shaved, the man moved through the house still naked and damp from the ritual of cleansing himself after his run. He stood there before the eastern wall of what most would call a living room, and a steaming cup of coffee was clutched by handle in his left hand. Those dark eyes of his looked to those masks on the wall, and like the darkness above the bed earlier, they looked back at him in their dead eyed stare.

There were possibly twenty.
Some were made with feathers.
Some were made of cloth or leather.
Some were harsh geometric shapes while others simply interpretations of the image.
Yet, all of them, were in the shape of a Crow.

Carefully the mug was lifted to his lips, the curls of white steam tickling against his nostrils as he sipped the bitter brew silently. Tobias just looked at these faces that he had collected and set on the wall, and let them look back over his toned scarred body.

6:35am
The coffee was placed upon the desk with a soft clatter of its hard material meeting the polished wood that supported the intricate hum of the computer. Screen blurred itself out of that pitch black state, and the prompt for a password was threateningly printed upon the glow. Of course, this was no real problem for one who held the keys to the kingdom, and with only about thirteen keystrokes, Tobias sat back into the comfort of that well padded chair.

The screen was filled with only a single image. A bedroom, blinds pulled down, a single occupant there upon the bed dreaming.

The man took up his coffee again, sipped it, and waited.

Golden and red and amber and orange, dawn crept against the window in all its newborn color and light. It snuck between those blinds, slunk across the floor, and striped a sudden slash of illumination across the room.

It was that house, that one with white paint and blue trim to which now he was watching. Or, to be more precise, he was watching the innards of such a property. A woman lay there in field of view, sleeping soon to be touched by the dawn's light. Tobias had the hidden little eye in the room look closer, zoom in to examine that exact moment when a new day touched her body. With held breath he waited and was jealous of the sun itself.

It was all part of the ritual of a new day.

6:37am
It was just a screen, just a flat surface, but when Tobias ran his finger along it the man swore he could feel the shape of her figure below his touch. There was no sound, but somehow he could hear those soft breaths escaping from her lungs that were still weighted with dreams. He ran his finger along the curve of her thigh, and for just a moment felt something very much unlike himself swell in the base of his stomach.

She was beautiful, pearlescent in the light that broke across the world just to touch her sleeping body.

6:40am
It is easy to day dream when you are filled with lustful thoughts. Easy to be swallowed whole, drowned, and trapped in places that wings could never stretch to. Maybe that is why Tobias didn’t notice the man at first. Maybe he was lost flying over his own imagination of what to do with a precious thing such as she.

Yet, when Tobias at last did notice the figure standing there in the last remaining patch of darkness in the corner, his spine straightened instantly. As if slapped by a physical being, the pulled sharply away from that screen with wide dark eyes caught between confusion and surprise.

That man in the room loomed in that spot, his weight shifting slightly in almost a tik tok pattern of movement from left to right. Outline of the new figure was dim, unfocused, but there were a few details to be noticed. A beard, hair long enough to drape the back of his neck, and he was big enough to even cause Tobias to give pause.

The way the intruder moved his head little bobs of upward motion gave the watcher chills. It suggested almost something animalistic, and Tobias squinted, leaning forward again in attempt to see what the hell was going on.

He’s not sniffing the air is he?
The fuck?
How did he get in?

Hands went to work over the keyboard, and images flashed across the screen. Room by room, a fraction of a second each, Tobias flicked viewpoints. All windows secure. All doors remaining solid. Yet, the mystery of this would have to remain unsolved, as he wasn’t willing to let the woman be alone in the room without him watching.

Again his screen turned to that single image of the bedroom.

The sniffing man had his back to the camera now, he was leaning over that sleeping beauty, and his right hand threaded through the woman’s hair. His chest, at least the part of it he could see with the man bent over the bed, was moving again like a wolf who had caught an interesting scent.

Tobias for the first time in a very long time was at a loss what to do.
Should he get involved?
Oh, he certainly wanted to.
Never did the man like others fucking with what he considered his.

Humans lead with their eyes, and that single thought of doing something about this new interruption to his routine flicked his gaze out towards that window that was filling with morning color. When a moment later his attention snapped back into place upon that screen, Tobias nearly knocked over his coffee.

The shape of a man that clung to shadows had evaporated as easily as it had formed.
She lay there slumbering indifferent to what had just happened.

The windows, doors, and other ways in to the building showed the same as before when again he cycled through the premises. There was nothing.

Leaning back into the chair, his heart thumping harder then any early morning run could cause, Tobias stared through those electric eyes at the dreamer who was totally unaware of the one who watches her.

He had wired almost an entire community with the hidden gifts of his cameras. He had laced entire build sites with microphones to listen to their lives. He had even buried a few of those boring people in places where no one would ever think to dig. This though? This event?

It was the first cause he had to question his sanity, and he had no one to share it with but that woman on his screen.

 

[TheShyWriter]

Soft breaths of sleep escaped her as those first touches of dawn started to fill the room. Slightly tanned skin hidden underneath the blanket that gave her haven from the chill that night brought with it. Features were gentle and peaceful as the visage of dreamland lay upon her, even as her privacy had been intruded upon by not one but two pairs of eyes.

Yet there was little that could be said of the watchful eyes that had played over her resting body as the sun rose to birth a new day. Instead, her mind was blissfully unaware to those that lurked beyond the digital lens and shadows of darkness. It was only once the sudden twinkling of bells that rose into the air.

The vibration was what caused her body to stir finally, unaware of those soft mental carcasses, oblivious to those fingers upon hair and the breath that took in scent. Slowly limbs moved under sheets before they stretched out from the curled position she had been in. A yawn escaped lips as a hand reached up in idle muscle memory to cover it as body tilted and rolled over from side to back.

Something could be said for adjustment periods, and even as adaptable as she had grown up to become, she was not immune to this natural occurrence. Despite having reached the age of twenty-three she still fell victim to this moment in time, to the unfamiliar feel of a brand new bed. The expectation of solid surface was there, but only empty space greeted her back as she rolled over and spilled out of the queen sized bed and onto the hardwood floor beneath.

A sound of surprise went quickly to that of pain as it was accompanied by the thud of a body hitting the wooden surface. Her long black hair had covered her face as she and blanket lay in a bunch upon the side of the bed, head lifted in that natural reaction to keep it from hitting the floor like the rest of her body with the fall.

Yet as the realization hit her that she had fallen she gave a sigh and laid her head back for a moment, that drowsy moment she had as she had slowly started waking up was suddenly gone. There was no slow waking this morning, she was wide awake now and a soft groan left her as hand covered eyes for a moment against the rising dawn.

Still, that melody twinkled across the room from her phone, now muffled and vibration shifting within the blankets under her as it had fallen from its spot under her pillow and onto the floor with her. Shuffling sheets and blanket before it clattered upon the floor, reaching out she picked it up. She went to press the button upon the screen to give indication she was awake only to have it disappear on the screen. Vibrations ended, melody quieted.

A frown reached her features and those green eyes with specks of blue shining in them had that slight look of irritation as she had to go through the trouble of disabling the alarm through the clock because it didn’t dismiss it properly. No snooze this time around as she tossed it back onto the bed that now was devoid of its normal coverings.

Sitting up she looked at the purple comforter bunched up on the floor with her and gave a sigh before she got up, her white silken nightie hung down as she stood up. Not a word escaped her as she picked up the sheets and went to make her bed. First, sheet lay flat upon the surface and soon it was covered in the warm embrace of the comforter. Pillows positioned neatly at the head of the bed.

Though at the head of this purple and grey shaded bed lay not just her pillows, but an old doll made of burlap and twine, old faded yarn created the hair and black buttons for eyes. Simple black stitching was what gave this creation it’s defining features. There half bent over itself with a permanent smile in place did it look up to her somewhat askew before she rightened the little doll to sit up straight. Light smile upon her own soft native features before she turned to look at the rest of the room.

Even though she had moved in two weeks prior, there were still boxes stacked in a corner of the room that begged to be tended too. The large window that looked out to the world outside and let in the rising sun had drapes upon either side of royal purple, matching the rest of the room in its shades of purple that was complimented with white walls.

Though her facial features were soft with the undertones of her native heritage shaping the bone, her body was not so soft. Instead, there was muscle and strength that spoke of someone who spent their time outside in the sun working. Even though she had many clear features that spoke of her Cherokee heritage, her height was not one of them, standing a simple 5’1” in height which caused her to have to reach in the large closet to pull hanger and clothing out.

Yet it was only a moment, then a quick trip to the old oak dresser she had along the wall next to the bathroom door, and then into the bathroom to get changed. As nightie was removed from her form and placed within the hamper she kept in there she soon slipped on white bra and boxer styled women's underwear before tank top and shorts followed in suite.

Now all there was left on her task list of getting ready for the day, her hair. Long black hair the color of a raven lay straight and down her backside. The fringes of it dancing just above the top of her rear. Brush with thick bristles in hand she went to brush the tangles out before with a very practiced motion pulled it back into a tight braid.

All of this she did in silence, not a hum or sound came from her to break the quiet that lay within the house. The sounds of life outside her home fell upon deaf ears as she weaved her hair down to the very end and tied it with a black elastic hair tie. Looking upon herself in the mirror one more moment before she left the bathroom and went back into the master bedroom.

Passing the bed she reached out to grab the phone, seeing the screen brighten upon her touch, giving indication she had her first message of the day. Steps towards the door leading to the hallway paused as she looked at the screen.

-Richmond payment went through. 224 Brent St. Details have been emailed to you.-

A little nod came to her as she acknowledged what she just read and then quickly fingers fell over the phone in indication she clearly texted a lot as she responded to the person named ‘Susan’.

-Thanks. I’ll get right on it.-

On down the hall past the spare bedroom and half bath, through the bare living room that held just a simple couch and coffee table, on to the somewhat spacious kitchen. The house had a mix of empty and clutter to it however as it was littered with unopened and still packed boxes from her move. Only the necessities had made their way out for the most part. Only a few decorative items and mementos had found a haven on the walls.

Old photo of her as a small child with what one could assume was her parents posing for a photo. It was the only one however that showed any memory of those who had given her life in this complicated world. The rest covered the years of her childhood and into the new age of adult generally included an older woman who held more prominent features of her heritage and most assuredly was the grandmother to the woman who had entered the kitchen.

A quick trot to the countertop that had a bowl full of apples on display. Snatching one of the green pieces of fruit from its temporary home as she found the sleek laptop on the kitchen table. She opened it with one hand as she took the first bite of breakfast for the day. Leaning against the counter as she watched the screen load, then finger traced over the little touchpad as she navigated to her email.

Quickly eyes scanned over her new project at hand, the picture was that of a law firm, and the front of the business had some severely overgrown flower beds. She looked over what she would be working with, then eyes went to the color scheme they wanted, as well as a preference in annuals. It was a very simple and easy job, one she knew she could manage to get done that day if she played her cards right.

Moving back she stood up straight as she took another bite and closed the laptop, hand sliding over the cover with a moment of thought as she looked around at all the boxes that still had yet to be unpacked. Though she could set her own schedule she had been pushing herself to focus on work, instead of facing the reality of loss that unpacking would bring.

Eyes glancing over to a picture of her grandmother, late in the years smiling warmly at her from the wall in the kitchen and she studied it for a moment. Then eyes drifted away as she felt a well of emotion rise and she pushed it aside as she took another bite and left the kitchen to move out into the living room once more.

What was once seven as vibration had told her, had now become seven thirty, she still had time to herself before it would be necessary to leave the house and start working. So half-eaten apple was set upon the coffee table by the couch and over to a box did she walk ever so silently upon the hardwood floor.

Box stacked upon another lay open and half unpacked, within its contents was a case that held the strings of her heart. Latches were undone and the case opened to reveal the cherry finish of violin. Gently she ran her fingers over its surface and across the strings to give the barest of touch.

Then she reached in and pulled it and bow out, holding it lovingly and as an extension of her own being as she moved over to the couch to sit down. Placing it against her shoulder, hugging it with her chin as she closed her eyes. Pulling bow over string she focused on the feel, the vibrations that radiated off of it, each detail, each difference. Every touch and motion, every reaction it had to her touch she could feel inside herself.

Carefully she made the slightest adjustments to ensure it was tuned to perfection. Then bow once more fell over the strings as she played. The melody spoke of love, of sorrow, of pain and loss. Almost haunting in as it sang out in unspoken rhymes that gave a glimpse to the story of her heart.

Even as the sound of sirens ran by the house she seemed to take no notice, the joyful laughter of children outside. Dogs barking in the distance, cars driving by. The sudden honk of a horn to a stray ball in the road, none of it was heard as she played in this spare moment of hers. None of it was given notice as she felt the music that spilled from her.

Never had she heard that to which she created, never once did melody fall upon her ears as they did any who may have the rare pleasure of hearing the beauty she could create. There was only silence for her as she sat there, but there was still a sense of joy and fulfillment there upon her features as she played, body swaying ever so slightly with the strokes of the bow across strings as she felt it run through her.

 

[BeneathTheTides]

It was five A.M.

It was when the world itself slumbers upon the back end hours, before it rouses to devour the shadows that have been woven by a midnight prior. Grumpy birds on occasion piped up from their dark nests in places hidden in branches, and confusingly sang before drifting back to sleep. The street light in the near center of the cul de sac hummed with the electricity that was its blood, and that false starlight that it poured onto the image of the houses was a piss colored yellow that stained the beautiful dark details of the hour.

He turned his attention towards the house just there, the one with the windows closed, and the lamps turned off behind them. Darkness was enclosed below that rooftop. Blackness filled those spaces so completely that it pressed against the glass threatening to erupt. Out here where the air smelled of moisture and possible rain coming from the west, there was the moon, the stars, and that damned ugly bent lamp pole that banished the deeper darknesses Inside, there was only boxed memories, and ones that smelled of intricate histories contained within.

The Wolf should know.

He had gone through them, unpacked each and every box, even if the female had not. Piece by piece, he dug through the innards of those treasure troves, studied the prizes, and put them back. Through every detail he lingered, fingertips etching across surfaces, fabrics, words on paper, or anything else at all that could be considered tactile.

Standing here on the outside of that man built cage that humanity calls a home, he looked into those dark eyes of windows. To his mind it was that all too thin sheet of glass that caged a true darkness within it. There was something he knew well in that space beyond those locked doors. A woman, one that he had known for most of her life, slept unaware of her companion in the least sense of that term.
In her dreams she breaths, and spreads a darkness so complete, so encompassing, that it must be caged behind glass windows. Least it devour the night itself.

Now inside, The Wolf moved passed a picture that made him pause in those cock sure movements of his. Shadow of himself, much in the shape of a man, was cast over that image of the woman’s grandmother as he stood there to peer at it. His gaze ticked and tocked over that old memory captured in that frozen instant on display. Attention moved across every detail that crude human devices generated, and filled in the errors that could not be portrayed by a photograph alone.

It had been hot the day before, but a cold front moved in. There was a chill in the air, and the wind smelled of fresh cut grass.

The Wolf knew that particular woman just as well, though she went by another name to him. It was a title once heavy upon the edge of his lips with frustration, but that was over now. She was just a preparatory act for the planned feast anyway.

A slight touch to the top left corner of the frame moved it a hairs distance, just slightly enough so that it was perfectly aligned.

This was The Wolf’s territory.
Where his herd walks, he follows and claims as his own.
It mattered not that this house was new, it was those boxes containing fragments of yesterday that he considered his land. From the moment she was born with that blood pulsing through her veins, to the very final chapter that her life will take.
It was his.

She was part of his herd that he circled, culled, and devoured.

She was simply a Deer, meat, and bone.
The sour scent of grief filled this darkness filled building, and the shape moving through the context of her life, box by box, could smell it on everything. That would change though, it always did. People were such fragile things when those things they treasure at taken away. Ah, but what was one to do? It took time to season the flesh, and the silent will of patience to wait till the fruit was ripe.

So it was circles for now.
Moving just around the edges of sight as not to scare off the prey.
Take in the scents, stalk, wait, and hunger.

One of her articles of clothing was pulled from that hamper in the bathroom, and lifting it upward, a study of her bra was being made. The thick fingered hand turned this strange thing this way, then that, as if this was an archeological find of the century, but the confusion on his features was clear. Perhaps they used this as some sort of torture device! What heathens!

Then he would breath her in. The scent of her skin. The deodorant she wore. The scent of a long day, hard work, earth and plants. A chuff of breath at the back of his throat, almost sneezing at the sudden push of pollen that was set free. Such a limiting their their noses must be, if you can’t follow a person by merely tasting them upon a breeze.

The Deer smelled of earthen things.
Of life, growth, seeds, and possibilities.
The Wolf approved of this most heartily.

Passage through the domain that others would say is not his, was without incident or allowance of mistake. Neatly as those boxes that had been packed, unpacked, only to be repacked again, the effect upon the environment of that prey was minimal. Yet there was a long moment, a pause that was unlike his nature, as reflection in the mirror was beheld. Dark eyes pulled from a face that at first he did not recognize, and the hair longer than remembered.

Instinct stung like a wasp at the base of his spine, urging his first nature to come forward and snap at the image of another male in his kingdom. Yet foolishly, with that snarl still at his lips, the information that it was only himself in reflection settled into him. Only one last look to that stranger upon the glass surface.

Three words, spoken by a voice that was so seldomly used, rumbled deep and low from the trapped places within lungs.

Mai-coh
Canidae
Wolf

With his name spoken to the quiet hollows of this home to which Deer slept within, the man seemed all the more reassured of his own precedence and purpose here. A comb was found, the scent of her hair soft, and the feeling of it below those tactile fingers of his moving along the strands left from its use. The lightswitch was looked at to peer for evidence of her fingerprints. The study of every detail was detailed.

Leaning into the shower, the lufa was looked at with puzzlement. Perhaps at first divers to the edges of the ocean felt like he did in this moment. A strange animal had been discovered. It was so exotic that its life could be nowhere else but here. Leaning forward, he peered at the thing used in bathing rituals,and small lungfuls cautiously offering testing sniffs. The air around it was scented with soap, cleanness, and the dampness of water pulled from old pipes. Still he watched it threateningly, and silently dared it to move even an inch.

A bottle of shampoo had been picked up, and after a moment of peering at it to comprehend, it was opened. The heavy scent of cheap chemicals bloomed the moment the cap was pulled free, and The Wolf almost instantly pulled his face away. Features, though handsome, were in need of a trim. Beard and hair hadn’t grown so long as to hide the sight of him, that was clear enough as the expression of his face currently was one of pure loathing for that substance inside.


He would not have this scent seeping into her.
He would not have this flavor soaking into her tissue.
No. No, he would not.

Gaze turned this way and that for a place to which one could dispose of this dreadful thing. Pouring it out would only encourage the Deer to get more of it, and the same could be said as to simply throwing it out. So, what was the answer here? Or so that human… well.. human like mind of his tried to process.

Somewhere, in the deep dark cave that was the Wolf’s mind, a lightbulb went off.

That cold place he had found in the kitchen. The one that would close completely and seal away any trace of scent. Yes, that was the perfect housing for something such as vile as this.

To the fridge and freezer the Wolf went, his feet moving through the house with no vibration or scattering of evidence. The door was tugged open, a cold blast that promised ice puffed out into his face. Yes, this would be the place to put something like poison.

The bottle of Shampoo was deposited into the vault, that in reality was merely the top part of her fridge, and a nod of a job well done bobbed chin downward as he closed it back up.

Back to work.


7:30 A.M.
There was another house filled with darkness, and this one retained such even at the hour. One of the only lights on within, was that screen that showed the belly of newest rented house on the block. A woman, her hands beautiful, moving along a violin to bring its sweetness alive. Tobias knew what she was capable, had heard it from outside that window on several mornings. Never had he though witnessed it like this though.

In an effort to know the bird that was in his cage, the sound have been muted. There was only the motions of her wings fluttering to bring breath to the music she created. He leaned back into his chair, his expression was one of rapt joy and unexpected pleasure at something so unique within the grasp of those cameras.

The Crow likes shiny things, and this newest piece to his collection was certainly that.
In fact she almost glows.
He thought to himself as he found his fingers drawn that image of her on the screen again.

His phone had been there, waiting quietly for the moment it would be needed. Its face a blank screen of nothing, till at last a call cut through the airwaves and connected itself with those electronic parts inside. The name Jensen was printed in neat writing on the digital readout of who was trying to reach him, and Tobias tapped at the connect button.

Though his eyes, his eyes remained on that silent image of a woman creating.

“Hey boss” The younger man on the phone began. “We have those repairs on today, we didn’t know if you wanted to swing by to see the last one”

Tobias was running his finger along the artists shoulder, or at least that distant and plain representation of her through the camera's lense. “Did you get the job done?”

The voice that ‘the boss’ was using was flat, cold, distant, and it was easy to tell that Jensen tone changed to that of worry. “Yeah, course. Like always.”

“Then make sure no one else bothers me. I’m taking today off.”

The man, Jensen, sounded more and more like a boy in his nervousness. Slight stammer to the worry that even the next question may not be appropriate. “Y-you alright boss? Something happen?”

“I’m fine. Just need a day to clear my head. Talk to you tomorrow.”
The phone call was ended.

Jensen was right though, something had happened. It was that strangeness of seeing someone over the woman upon his screen. Even if, as it was clearly, a fluke of his imagination, it rattled him. Made him feel off balance, and out of control. These were not things that he liked, not one bit.

“Two weeks… Maybe today I should introduce myself.”
He said to the woman on the screen as his fingertips curled against the image of her cheek like talons.

8:05 A.M.
A light blue car containing a single occupant pulled out from the driveway of that white house, and close behind was Tobias in his own vehicle. The woman pulled north, and the Crow followed.

8:30 A.M.
For twenty five minutes he followed. Sometimes a car would drift between them, taking up vision that his eyes seemed always clearly hungry for. Sometimes he would switch to a different lane, or put even more distance between them. Yet, for every minute of this time frame, he flew near her upon that roadway that traveled on.

Now, the woman had parked, and had gotten out to inspect the site to which she was to work. The wheels of her mind as silent as the ability of her ears to collect sound, but Tobias could see it all the same. Having watched her play, the Crow knew so much about her.

She needed to be here, to see, feel, and understand the instrument that she was tasked with playing. Even if it was just a flower bed, with her own eyes, she wanted to see it for what it would be… for what she could make it with those talented fingers of hers. Tobias watched her walk across the site, lean down and inspect the canvas she was expected to paint upon with plant life.

8:43 A.M.
The song bird was moving through the isles of the garden center. The prices were being formulated into lists, and Tobias could see her mind work all the clearer. He knew her, even after just two short weeks of watching her, he knew her completely. He knew her in a way that no one else could even dream of.

The air here was burdened with a hundred varieties of chemicals, flowers, fertilizers, and the sheer volume of it twinged the weaker part of the Crow. It was growing to be a small acorn of a headache lodged behind his eyes, but to see her move with his own eyes? The sunlight had never seemed so full growing pain or not.

9:46 A.M.
Having needed an escape from the sheer amount of scents in that place, almost as bad as yankee candle shops, Tobias had returned to his car. His gaze was set through the windshield and to the blue skies overhead. Heat poured in with the daylight, and small droplets of sweat clung to the edges of him. Left arm hung out the car window of the parking lot, and cigarette burned low against those fingers that held it.

Why was he like this?
Couldn’t he just talk to her?
Be -normal- like the rest of them?

But isn’t this how you show love?
To be invested in someone's day?
To want to be there for every detail that makes a person who they are?
Isn’t that the kind of love that poets write about?

Tapping the ash passed that open window, it was hard to define that foreign dream of being like others. There was only the painful knowledge that he was not, not like them, but it was rare that any of them notice it.

Maybe she would understand?
She was an artist after all.
Artists were supposed to have different mindsets, right?

Tobias hadn’t been paying attention, he was madly lost within his own thoughts as he looked out into that blue sky. It was the tail lights of her vehicle, that light blue one, that pulled him back to earth. Surprised by the woman about to escape without having noticed, the cigarette that was between his lips tumbled free to fall into his lap, and quickly he began to try to brush it aside.
“Fuck fuck fuck”

12:34 P.M.
She had dug her fingers into the soil, and had cut the earth itself with gardening tools. As easily as she created music, she dressed a garden with the slow progress of growing roots. Color by color, piece by piece, she was putting the puzzle together, and again the Crow was in love.

Stomach rumbled through, and the heat of the day was little cut down by the failing air conditioner of his car. It was time to move on for the moment, but he would never be far from her. That cell phone, the one on the mount on the dash, pinged a location of the tracking device tucked up under that light blue cars wheel well. Wasn’t that hard to follow someone. Hell, all it takes is a stop at Walmart these days.

With a heavy sigh, he looked at the woman one last time from the parking lot, and promised silently that he would see her again soon.


1:57 P.M.
She was pulling down the road in time enough to see a man at her door. His knuckles had been lifted to it as if to knock, and patiently he waited there as she passed by into the driveway. As if hearing a sudden sound, he turned, blinked in ‘surprise’ and bloomed instantly in a smile.

Well dressed, a white summery button down shirt with Khaki pants and brown shoes, this was no back alley lurker. Even those eyes, those ones that were so bright with mirth played their part in the friendly suggestion that there was nothing at all wrong with this picture.

Just a man who came to see if the tenant was home, and she happened to pull up right when he was about to give up. Nothing more than that. Cross his little feeble heart.

A box, one of bright pink and labeled with ‘Meg’s Pie’s’ was being carried by a hand below it, and the free one lifted to enthusiastically wave to the woman who had just pulled up. Waiting patiently Tobias did move away from the door, but not very far.

After all, this was his house, just like the rest of them on the cul de sac.

 

[TheShyWriter]

Sitting there as the minutes ticked away what time she had left before she should get to work, bow moving against string in it’s delicate and beautiful melody. She knew this song well as it was the one she had played often as of late. Just as the last note fell upon the air, and the last remnants of vibration filled her she finally pulled it away from her chin and set it down in her lap for just a moment.

Eyes looking down upon the instrument for a few moments as fingers ran over the finished wood in thought. A contemplation and wonder what it must be like to hear what it was she could feel with the instrument when she played. Yet it was nothing she would run the risk of ever asking another. The world was a cruel place and this was where her heart lay, she didn’t want it tarnished and sullied by others.

Glancing up to a photo of her and her grandmother, a birthday when she was young and received her first violin. The only person who had ever heard her play had always encouraged her and helped her through the struggles of life. A woman who never gave up on her. Eyes went back to the violin again and she took a breath at the sudden well of tears that wanted to rise before she got up.

Gently resting heart made of wood and strings into the case, and the key to its strings down, she latched the case closed. Looking back over to the coffee table she picked up the half-eaten apple and then her phone. With the phone in pocket and apple in hand, she headed for the door. A patchwork of old clothing shoulder bag was lifted from its home by the door, while keys taken from the hook before she was stepping out into the sunlight.

Her thoughts were at the task at hand as she fished through her keys for the one that would bring the metal beast to life. Climbing inside and setting the bag upon the passenger seat. This was an old vehicle, one that smelled of oil and diesel from times before gas had become more refined. This vehicle was older than her and spoke of prey within the name Volkswagen rabbit.

Even with the hits of rust creeping along its edges, and the blue light and faded, it was rose to life, giving it’s solid vibrating welcoming hug that it always greeted her in. It’s engined rumbled and let the world know it was there, present, and alive but for her, it was that distinctive rhythm of it’s shuddering that told her it was ready to take her to any destination she wanted despite its old age.

Quick check and adjustments of mirrors before she left the driveway and made her way to the site. She had to be sure she really knew the lay of the land. There was more than just putting flowers into the ground, there was understanding what would grow and thrive. While pictures were nice, it wouldn’t be until she could run fingers into the dirt before she would know exactly what would want to call it home.

With the sun bearing down on her, her windows were down, despite how hard it tried the beast was no longer able to provide cool breeze and relief. Yet this didn’t bother her at all, she enjoyed the feel of wind across her face and the array of smells that may come across it. Even when it was most unpleasant for her sensitive nose she would bear it. If not just for the touch of breath that may grace her as the vehicle moved through life.

As she reached her destination she parked. Her old rust bucket, as Gran would call it lovingly, stood out against all the brand new fancy vehicles of those who worked at the law firm. The building itself had renovations to modernize it from its old fashion visage in this older part of town. Yet the flowerbeds had thus far fallen by the wayside.

Now though it was their turn, rubble and renovations were finished, the area cleaned up. Spring was here and it was finally officially time to plant. Getting out of her car she made her way over to the two beds of dirt and weeds that greeted their customers when they would go inside.

Others may just see dirt and weeds, but she noticed so much more. The amount of gravel within the soil, the color of the soil. The type of weeds that were thriving, of course, there were dandelions here, but there also held creeping bellflowers. There was grass as expected as well. Looking up to the roof of the building above and it’s gutters it was clear that water would be pulled away often from this patch instead of it becoming flooded. The light coloring of the soil had also given her indication of how dry it was.

Moving forward she went and sat down on the concrete next to the bed and with bare hand did she claw into the dirt. It was hard and stiff, but with work, she managed to push through showing there was a level of moisture a few inches below the surface. Taking a handful of soil she could smell the earth laced with chemicals. From weed killer to the general pollution of the air that seeped into it.

Thumb ran over it as she spread it out against her palm, looking through it before she let it drop back into the flowerbed. It would need hardy plants to withstand the times of drought and the fact that they would spray for weeds in the future. It was going to need to be dug out completely in order to remove the creeping bell and keep it from coming back. Nothing she couldn’t accomplish but it was going to take a little extra leg work.

She got up to her feet before catching sight of a woman coming out of the law firm and to her. Watching her with a slightly curious gaze as she started to talk to her. Without taking her eyes off the woman's face, she wiped her hands together to remove the rest of the bits of dirt from her.

“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?” The woman asked before her eyes went to the parking lot to look for an unfamiliar vehicle. Seeing the old rusted thing her nose turned up ever so slightly and eyes went back to her. A new disapproving tone to her as she spoke. “I’m sorry but you need to leave. We do not need people like you chasing away actual paying clients,” she said.

A slight hint of a smile tugged on her lips at the expression the woman had, it was all she had to read to know that this woman didn’t want her and was judging her based upon her car and heritage. Though this was not the first or last uneducated person she had ever had the displeasure to deal with.

She reached into her pocket and pulled the stylus from its place, as the app for the memo’s popped up she began to write upon it.

-I can let Mr. Richmond know his landscaping will not get done today since I am unwelcome here, or would you prefer to call and let him know?- she wrote, using the stylus to find each of the letters rather than handwriting it as it would be too much for the screen if she did.

She turned the phone and held it out for the woman to read. The woman glanced at it then gave her a look of annoyance without reading it. “I said you need to leave.”

Still calm she reached up and pointed to her ear with the hand that held the stylus and then pointed to herself and shook her head. Back to the phone did she point and look at the woman expectantly.

A realization seemed to fill the woman's eyes and a look of uncertainty and discomfort now as she seemed to realize that this native woman was unable to hear. A different frown crossed her features and she looked at the phone finally to read what was there. Then she blinked looking back at her again with a look of surprise.

“Oh!” she said before she frowned. “How did you know what I said?” she said the doubt clear in her features.

Again she went to type with the stylus on the screen.

-I have learned to read lips. So should I text him or did you want to call him?-

The woman saw the message and a red flush started to creep up her face at the fact she had clearly made a mistake in her assumptions. “No no. We shouldn’t bother Mr. Richmond.” She said quickly and there was a hint of worry to her at the prospect of possibly displeasing the man by bothering him with something as little as this.

“Anything less than perfect will not be acceptable,” She said as she was recovering from her embarrassment and her pride clearly kept her from admitting she had been at fault for her behavior. No, she masked it by becoming snooty once more. Bigotry didn’t discriminate. “I will be sure to let Mr. Richmond know if you mess it up. I can’t believe he would hire someone of your….standing.”

Layla gave a little nod and put her stylus away before she started to head back to her car. Usually, she would make a point of saying goodbye or politely excuse herself. Instead, she allowed herself to take advantage of the awkwardness that hung around the woman when faced with a disability and simply left.

As she got into the car and it came to life again under her hands. She sat there for a moment reflecting upon the nasty woman and she felt a stir of anger before she closed her eyes. Taking a light breath before she let it out again. She reminded herself that the woman was clearly lost and miserable, and instead of letting her own feelings become hurt and angry she instead felt pity for the woman and how cold her life must be.

Putting the car in gear she drove once more, making her way to the garden center nearby. It was one she was rather familiar with. In fact, she and her grandmother would visit it often when they came into town. She was well known and welcomed there, a reminder that despite the foul people that she may run across there were some places that were warm and pleasant to go to.

As she went inside she gave a little wave to the woman who owned the business and was greeted in kind. No words spoken of course as she made her way through the garden center, going to the area where the flat carts were she was soon pushing it along with her as eyes scanned the life that thrived around her.

It reminded her of home, or of what once was home. She could smell the earth here, the life that ran through each of the plants, the fragrance they put out to entice insects to their leaves and petals. Even with the smells of chemicals and fertilizers that hung around in this place, there was still something so reminiscent with being surrounded by so much thriving plant life when each day spent in the city felt almost devoid by comparison.

She started to gather items she knew she would need. Topsoil to fill in what she would have to remove with the creeping vine, even some potting soil for a little added fertilizer and help hold moisture in longer for the drought days of summer. Mulch to go over the top and help keep weeds at bay, while landscape fabric might have been expected it was not something she used most of the time as it caused more issues down the line.

Then it was time to look for the plants, her favorite part of it all. Deciding what to plant and what would thrive together based on what she knew of the area and what their home would be like. Creating a beautiful scene for people to appreciate and help brighten their days. Bring a little bit of mother nature back to the lands claimed by concrete and metal.

After making her selection and going with a color scheme that spoke of sunsets of yellows, oranges, reds, and purples. She made her way to the front counter so she could check out. Eyes resting on the owner as she came up and she couldn’t help the smile she gave to match the one given to her.

Here phone was not needed as she moved her hands, speaking in silent gestures to the woman before her and greeted in kind. This was her language and it was always appreciated when she ran into people who knew it.

“Hello Layla, How are you holding up?” The woman signed with a look of sympathy as well as her own grief, others as well felt the loss that lay heavily on her own heart and she had to give a weak smile.

“I’m doing ok.” She responded in silent motions but it was thereupon her features, she was having a hard time holding it together some days. “Keeping busy, Still moving into the place I rented in town.” She finished before she went to unload the smaller objects so that they could be rung up.

There was silence, no motions as they went through all the items. Then she noticed the woman motion for her attention and looked at her more directly.

“Do you need any help getting settled in?” The woman asked and again Laya couldn’t help the light tug of a grateful smile there upon her lips before she shook her head.

“No, I’m alright. I will get there with time. Right now I want to focus on seeding new life, it’s what Gran would have wanted. This is for work, but I plan to come this weekend to get things for the yard where I am staying. Still waiting for approval email to do landscaping on the property.” She motioned and the woman smiled.

“Considering you’re starting to make a bit of a name for yourself with how well you do, they should take it off your rent for doing their yard for them.” The older woman replied and Layla gave a little bit of a grin.

“Well I wouldn’t charge them, it’s something I would want to do because I lived there. We will see though. If I can’t, I may look for other possible properties to rent down the line now that I’m in town and it’s easier.” she said before she looked at all the items they had now packed away. “How much?” She signed and waited for an answer before she averted her gaze to her bag.

Digging for wallet she pulled out the charge card and handed it over. Watching as it was run through, then provided her signature. Putting away her card she smiled at the woman who had reached out to take her hands in her own.

“If you ever need anything, remember you can come to visit at any time. The house is empty since Roni went off to college so it would be nice to have the company, you wouldn’t be imposing at all.” She said speaking aloud this time in order to keep that physical contact.

Layla felt that surge, again and again, smile forced as she gave a little nod then gently took her hands away so she could ‘speak’. “Thank you, Mary, perhaps I will here soon.” She said though she wasn’t sure if she could do so without getting caught up in memories and emotions.

“I’ll see you again soon,” she added and as the woman nodded and gave her own farewell she pushed the cart onward, glancing towards the customer behind her and then she was off to load up her car. Eyes scanning the parking lot she paused for just a moment. Unlike most who wouldn’t take notice, being as she relied more on her other senses, there was a sense of familiarity with one of the cars.

Seems it was a popular vehicle, she’d seen that make and color several times today so far. But nothing more was thought of it, she did not live her life in paranoia after all. In fact, it was easy for her to go overlooked because silence surrounded her. Back to the job at hand, she started to load the trunk with soil and mulch before putting plants in the back seat. Using seat belts to help strap them in and keep them a little more secure.

Again beast roared to life and she pulled out. Eyes glancing about her carefully and more often as she didn’t have sound to aid her in knowing her surroundings. She was all the more aware perhaps for that fact as her eyes took in all around her and she moved forward to head back to the site.

After reaching destination she parked closer to the flowerbeds with the car and got out. Windows kept down to keep a breeze going for the plants before she opened the hatchback to the trunk. Reaching in she pulled out the small shovels and trowels she had and then the large tub as well where she would put the discarded plants and weeds.

Soon setting to work she pulled, tilled, dug up all that was there in the beds. Removing all of the weeds and roots she could find. Causing the flowerbed to lose a good inch or so of soil. Yet it was replaced with topsoil and potting soil which she tilled and mixed in rather well. After depositing the now full tub she went to plant the flowers and position them in the flower beds on either side of the doorway.

She created a visual effect of sunset with the various colors fading from one onto the other. Despite the gaps between them, she knew it would fill in with time and have a grand effect. She felt it would go well with the old feel of the building, but the new renovations to modernize it.

Soon she brought the finishing touches of mulch across the dirt to help keep weeds at bay, knowing she would need to come on occasion to check it and pick out any that tried to come through anyway.

Dusting off her hands when she was finally done she stepped back and looked at it. Then she took a picture before glancing into the glass door where she could see the woman from before looking out at her. The look upon her face clear she was hoping to find something wrong with her work. With a little wiggle of fingers to indicate ‘bye’ in an almost light humored ‘I don’t care what you think’ way, Layla turned now and left the scene.

Closing the trunk she went around and climbed back into the vehicle. The sun had bared down on her, sweat had blossomed over her and helped dirt and grime cling to her while she had worked. It was time to head home, get a good drink of water, a shower, and something a little more filling to eat.

It was almost two in the afternoon as she finally started to pull in her driveway. Pausing with a look of surprise to see a man standing at her door. The rumbling beast slowed down before it stopped, vibrations and sounds quieted as she let it finally rest for the day. She got out of her vehicle slowly. Eyes watching him the whole time to see if he said anything before she stole a glance away to grab her shoulder bag.

Closing the door her eyes went back to him searching, waiting, expecting him to speak as was natural for most in the world she lived in. The universal motion of hand in ‘hello’ as she made her way over but the questioning look on her face showed she was a little unsure about his presence.

Phone sliding out of pocket as she made her way up, eyes looking at the box in his hand and the assumption he had brought food of some sort was easily made. Thoughtful look but again puzzlement came to her features, never once though did there seem to be accusatory or mistrust there. Even if she had recognized the same car through the day she had not paid heed to its driver or the plates.

She also was unaware that his eyes had seen her in some of her most intimate moments. Ignorance was in this moment bliss and there was nothing to sway her from thinking the man at her door held no ill intention towards her at all.

Pointing up to her ear then she went to her phone and typed upon it then offered it to him to see. This time she didn’t wait for him to speak like she had the woman, she was more assertive, this was her home now after all.

-I can’t hear but I can read lips. Can I help you?-

She didn’t bother to make him squirm and try to figure it out on his own. No, she cut to the chase to get to the bottom of the mystery quickly with him and while she wasn’t too sure about a random stranger showing up at her doorstep she wasn’t about to be unfriendly over it.

Normally a person might have gone for keys to get inside, out of the hot sun and because of the discomfort of feeling as dirty as she did at this moment. She could smell the earth and sweat upon herself, and for others, it may not have seemed so strong, but to her it was. Yet she waited patiently as her eyes watched his face, clearly waiting for him to say something and not wanting to miss what it would be. She suspected this interaction would only take a few minutes before she could enjoy a cool shower and wash the day from her body.

 

[BeneathTheTides]

Layla was not alone, she never had been.
He listened.
He watched.
These were things easily accomplished, and these were things he was quite good at.

There are so many ways to describe someone isn’t there? The Wolf, one that looked like a human, stood tall. Six two? Six three? Somewhere in that range. Eyes this or that color, with this or that hair crowning his head. Yet, all those details didn’t matter a lick, because never once would the Laya, his Deer, lay her eyes upon him.

It wasn’t time yet.

Beside her in that ‘rust bucket’ vehicle he rode, close enough to lean forward with his jaws and snap her life away. The Wolf took in the scents, watched the world blurr by outside the windshield, and watched her gaze as she drove down the road.

And not a single one of these facts did his Deer know.

A phantom?
A ghost?
An invisible demon beside her?

Those names of what he could be didn’t matter a damn yet, but they would soon.

Another female, this one much less interesting than the one the Wolf followed, approached the Deer. They exchanged words in the parking lot, or at least the simple fact of communication passed between Layla and the angry other. It was just one of those facts of things that he appreciated his Deer for. Like a wild animal she spoke with a form of body language instead of noisy barks that civilization had grown so accustomed to.

This new female was full of those annoying attempts at communication. She yapped away like a pup demanding a place in the pack as Alpha. Even her scent was laiden with the falsehood of chemicals that would trick the nose into sweet scents. There was no good meat on her, not a single enjoyable taste.

The Wolf loathed her.

Layla communicated something to the other woman, and the Wolf tilted his head in interest to the brief deflation of obvious ego.

The two then parted.
One female going back to the task of working the earth and plant life.
One female charging back into the building as if nothing had happened.
The Wolf followed the latter.

Side by side, Elizabeth and the Wolf moved. Yes, that was the ‘new woman’s’ name. The Wolf knew the creature now clearly. As sure of it he was, as he knew that frustration spilled from her like that perfume of hers. It was part of hunting, to know the animal you follow, and by holding that name you knew how to kill it.

They were expensive shoes, no doubt, but all the Wolf knew of them was the clicking of heels against the hollow lobby walls. It smelled of cleaners, expense, and hollow. This was not a cave people lived in, but one which they built to work inside the belly of.

A button glowed as the woman pushed it, a pinging sound of an elevators metal box drifting down a floor towards them. His nose twitched at the drifting waft of electric gears, and the ingenuity that people always seemed to have.

Elizabeth and the Wolf stepped inside, and the door shut behind them.
When those same doors opened upon the second floor?
Well Dear Reader, there was not a single soul to step out of that metal box.
Invisible passengers or not, it was empty.


2:02 PM
“Oh?”
And this was a fairytale. That one word question of confusion was verbalized on purpose, but was acted so naturally that it seemed just like one of those automatic responses that people have. To speak, to vocalize, that is what Layla was used to, and Tobias wasn’t about to pull away the veil. Perhaps he never would. She was so beautiful from behind his camera lenses. Yes, she was delightful here in person, but in his home he could be God. There, watching, he could have wings.

The Crow smiled that trickster smile of pleasant company as the pie box was set upon the ground with careful ease. Now, with both hands free, he began to sign without hesitation or jitter of having to stop to think about it.

Hands swept through the air with the practiced ease of muscle memory.

-My name is Tobias. I take care of the neighborhood for the Company. I wanted to come by and welcome you. I brought you a pie from Meg’s. She does half and half, so I got you blueberry and apple.-

Oh how sweet a smile he could offer from those dark eyes, and how simply...normal he could make any interaction seem. Just because he preferred to have a thousand eyes instead of just two, did not mean he could not be just as anonymous in real life as behind a screen.
-A pleasure to meet you-

Right hand then thrust itself forward into the ‘welcome to the area’ handshake, and so many shiny things the Crow had collected within those dark eyes. Below the surface of his gaze they were but small flecks of color, but they were there all the same. Birds with black feathers collected, treasured, and perhaps even stared at their prizes just as Tobias was looking at her.


He waited, the Wolf that is, right there in that place where he had before. The picture of an old woman he stared at, those none description features of his twisting into the sharper edges of anger. Fur bristled against the back of his neck, and teeth were shown by the quivering growl at the edges of his jaw.

She had taken so much time from him.
So very much time.

There is an old story that is credited often the Native American people. One that tells of two wolves inside of every person, and the strongest is the one that is fed the most. There are versions of this throughout many cultures, with many beasts, but what none of them highlight or even warn about is that other people can feed those wolves inside of you as well. All it takes is knowing how.

The Wolf was good at watching.
The Wolf was good at learning.

A finger that should have no effect on the world poked out against the framed thing, tilting it till at last it spilled from its place. Till it crashed down against the floor, just like the bitch herself did. Leaning down over the broken glass and the picture laying there slightly bent, the Wolf opened his silent jaws spoke a single word at it.

‘Vulpes’

He would feed the Deer, and then feed himself.

Where was she? He had waited in her home with his gift.
To the window a thing of no description other than that of what it was moved.
The Wolf, placed a hand that shouldn’t be able to move the world against the glass as he peered out to see Tobias and Layla engaged in conversation. The edges of the print of his hand shouldn’t be fogging the glass as they were, but… they were doing just that.

Maybe it was the frustration at last underlining him after the wait.
Maybe it was anger at her being so near a male.
Maybe there was no description just to why he could at last have the slightest effect now, but he could. He damn well could, and that is a description that bloody well matters.

2:03 PM
Layla took his hand, and in return his grasp was firm, polite, and business like. They say plague doctors wore masks shaped that of a Crow, but there is no mask that really could be what they are capable of. Crows wear masks, and the idea that others could be like them? Laughable.

So, on him was that full smile, polite slight lift of eyebrows to show interest, and the set shoulders of a man who was simply in a comfortable place. Every bit, detail, stance, and motion was tailored with the finest needle, thread, and lie before they had even met. Tobias knew her. Knew her music. Knew how she looked at herself in the mirror.

Who else better then to write dialogue or a scene in the beautiful play that was Layla’s life?
She should be caged behind gilded gold, and allowed to sing like a beautiful songbird with her violin.

The Crow knew her, even if she only saw the mask.


There was no sound. That the Wolf wasn’t capable of quite yet. Despite the lack of audible que, the tiniest little line in the glass he had his hand on formed. It was a crack. A tiny one, yes, but one nonetheless, one that shouldn’t be there unless the rules for the Wolf was changing. Unless something like the death of someone holding a leash had set him free. Unless, little by tiny fucking crack little, he was learning to find his way back into the world his prey lived in.

And the inspiration?
The thing that made him want to howl at the moon?
Someone, outside, right now was touching his Deer.

 

[TheShyWriter]

It was hot, she was worn and a little tired after the work she had put in for the day. Despite having enjoyed the experience and being in shape, the prospect of a shower was still very ideal. Yet in this moment as she looked at him with expectant eyes, studying him carefully to watch what he said, curiosity postponed that desire.


Taking in the fact that he didn’t seem disturbed or thrown to badly by her unspoken statement gave a renewed interest, but it was when she saw him start to sign at her in the language that was her own she gave him a genuine smile of appreciation. There was also a look of curiosity to if there was more than they may share or if he simply was mindful enough to learn more then one language.


Her eyes watched him with interest and that tension she had held inside eased a little more as she became comfortable while her eyes listened to his unspoken words. As he explained why he was there and reference to the pie was made her eyes flicked to it for just a brief moment before they were back at him again.


When hand was offered she didn’t hesitate to take it in that commonly used greeting people did in the world today. Her grip light but firm and not offered until after she had made sure to dust her hands off on her shorts first to try and knock off what dirt may be left over from earlier.


Then letting go without lingering she started to sign back to him now that he had shown he seemed familiar with her own natural tongue.


-Thank you, I didn’t expect anyone would come by to welcome me. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Layla.- Then she paused as she realized he probably already knew her name since he had been sent there to greet her to the neighborhood and gave a sheepish smile but wasn’t too apologetic. -You caught me right after work, I’m not in the best condition for company but you’re welcome to come inside. I just need a few minutes to change at least. Share a slice of pie with me if you like.-


Her gran had, after all, raised her to be polite and while she hadn’t expected company she wasn’t about to kick him to the curb. Especially when he had come bearing gifts, she knew if she did her gran would disapprove even from the grave. She fished keys from her pocket and unlocked the door before opening it.


Of course, it should be noted that while the handprint so visible upon the window went unnoticed for the man at her doorstep had her attention. When that door opened and upon the floor lay a frame surrounded by the broken glass was exposed, her attention focused upon it rather quickly. For a moment the man was left forgotten upon the doorstep as she went inside.


Making her way the few steps inside, door left open for him to follow if he so chose she went and carefully picked up the frame with the picture inside. Turning it over to make sure that the photo of her gran was still intact and ok as she slowly stood up straight while looking at it. There was a mix of grief and relief to her features as she looked at the picture.


For a moment she stood there looking at it, then she looked down to the shards of glass all over the wooden floor before eyes went to where it had hung on the wall. Not entirely sure how it had fallen considering the nail was secure there as was the back fastening. Then it seemed she remembered he was there and she looked back towards him.


-Careful. I’ll clean that up.- She had set the photo down on the end table by the couch before she disappeared into the kitchen leaving him free range to roam inside. Her thoughts were more focused on the fact the photo had fallen and she needed to get it a new frame as soon as she could then it was worrying about if he could be trusted or not.


But that was also a part of her nature perhaps as well, despite the apprehension she faced daily with the world it was only natural to trust until that trust was broken. So far he had proven himself trustworthy and friendly, nice even with his introduction and actions. There was no indication for her to think otherwise. Had he been anything like the woman from earlier it might have been a different story, of course then again she wouldn’t have invited him in either had that been the case.


Into the kitchen she went, gathering dustpan and brush from under the sink and back out to the shattered glass she returned. Not a word or sound made as she went to clean up. There was no tension in her either to try and fill the silence that surrounded them, because the silence was all she knew.


Yet she did pay attention to her surroundings, the little things in the air that people didn’t usually pick up on. She was paying attention to the tension that may or may not be there around him, trying to gauge how comfortable he was in the silence as most people who could hear tended to have issues. They would fidget or get nervous, they would have an awkwardness to them with that need to fill the silence around them. One of the reasons she had learned to read lips, was to put others at ease as their voice could fill the silence people tended to shy away from.


With her hands full she couldn’t say anything else, instead she busied to finish the task. Sweeping quickly the broken shards that was evidence of another being who wanted to be known. Getting up she went back into the kitchen, though paused as she looked at him and making sure he could see her nodded her head in the direction she was going to indicate he could follow her. A little gesture of hands towards the pie he had brought to bring it with him as she went back into the kitchen.


Dumping the shards into the trash bin she went to put away the dust pan before attention went back to him again. -Sorry, I didn’t realize that had fallen before I left.- She signed at him once she saw his attention was on her again.