The Dog Days

The Dog Days
Date of Scene:	21 November 2012
Location:	Shard Seeker HQ - Girls' Dorm
Synopsis:	Two 'guests' of the Shard Seekers surprise each other in the dorms, and then share the stories that brought them there. With a cameo by a very, very lost Reize.
Cast of Characters:	Reize Seatlan, Zia, Sassaral

---

Sassaral has posed:
A small form flounces into the girls' dormitory, quick-footed at first but the moment she passes through the archway, Sassaral's heels dig in and she draws to a halt. Shoulder-blades to the door, she sloooo~oooowly eases it back a touch so that the entryway isn't /quite/ so gaping... and with a quick little puff of breath through her nostrils she pads barefoot into the room. Her sandals are hooked by the straps from two of her fingers; all that can be heard now are the barest impressions of footfalls and the whisper of the girl's loose-fitting dress.

Today Sassaral favors a cute little number; a garnet-colored dress with a loose empire-waist and mahogany embroidery. It's definitely /not/ new... but it's not in horrific shape, either. It is most certainly second-hand, but the werewolf doesn't care one whit. It is but one of a few articles that she acquired after her integration into Fluorgis. She matches the dress with a bandana that wraps around the crown of her head, keeping her copious locks out of her face. To look at her as she tosses her sandals beneath her bed is to see, though... that Sassaral looks a /little/ bit mussed up.

The hem of her dress bears dried mud; her bandana is askew; the hair that peeks out of it is tousled. With a backward hop she plops her butt onto the corner of her bed, over in her little section of the dorm... and dejectedly, looks down at the hem of her skirtpiece. Ever see the look that a guilty dog gives after ripping apart a pillow while the owner is away...?

... yeeaaaah.. case-in-point here. 9___9;

Zia has posed:
Sometimes it seems as if the Shard Seekers have a strange sort of half-way house for wayward wanderers of the worlds. Sure, Sassaral is an example of that, but so is one of the other guests currently calling the their Headquarters 'home' for the time being. Having been stymied in her return to Manhattan by one of Reize's maps, the gargress had been offered a safe place to rest.

And that is just what the gargoyle is doing when the wolf makes her appearance. Strangely enough, though, she isn't resting in a typical gargoyle fashion. The pale girl is sprawled out under a patched quilt that was probably an extra, donated to the Shard Seekers by some old lady, her head nuzzled into a pillow. It's a far cry from the sight of a stone creature snarling at the rising sun as some might expect.

Still, she's a light sleeper, and the moment those over-large ears catch the sound of footfalls, Zia is up. She jolts, looking startled, grabbing for something only briefly visible as a flash of blue light, dangling from her neck. It's soon covered by her hand as she draws herself upright, chest heaving, most certainly startled by the dissheveled wolf.

It takes a moment for her to process what's going on. "By Merlin, lass, ye gave me one hell of a fright." Letting out a breath, Zia shakes her head, ears still drawn back, looking more amused at herself than anything else. Swinging her legs down, it's easily clear that this creature isn't human. Unlike Sasssaral who might easily pass for such, the three taloned hands and feet set this creature apart, doubly-so once she shifts what looks like a cloak upon her back, but is actually a pair of long wings.

"Is somethin the matter?" She asks, having finally woken up enough to realize that the poor girl had been looking at her skirt when she'd gotten herself startled.

Sassaral has posed:
Let's just say, Sassaral responds in kind to Zia's shock at her arrival. Just as she's reaching forth to peel the sodden hem away from a shin, the fair gargress jolts awake and the werewolf sits up ram-rod straight. Her response is so swift and squirrelly that she /very/ nearly corks herself a good one against the shade of a ramshackle old standing lamp that she has, overhanging the mattress. At least she didn't yelp, though!

Golden eyes open wide as Sassaral pivots around to face Zia, who has by now grabbed up something that is dangling from her neck and is swinging her /very/ different feet out from under the covers. From beneath the hemline of Sassaral's dress, something begins to twitch and quiver... can't be her feet, can it? They're visible and already they're planted upon the floor. Between her ankles the cream-colored tip of something.. furry.. is twitching back and forth. Though the girl looks somewhat startled, the tail that she keeps hidden beneath the loose skirts is a tell-tale cue.

But it doesn't take Sassaral long to realize that /she/ startled Zia first. A quick breath inward, and the werewolf exhales in a trilling, sing-song manner. "Ah---" Pause, moves to rub the back of her neck, unknowingly rubs mud from her dress all over her skin. "Sorry, r--really--I should have taken more care." Sassaral admits with a nervous laugh.

"Sorry miss, I really didn't mean to scare you!" The werewolf appeals again, eyes flitting top to bottom to take in Zia's curious appearance. A polite girl, the werewolf makes sure not to stare!

Zia has posed:
Seeing the surprise on the other girl's face is a clear enough sign that the surprise hadn't really been meant to startle her. "Dinnae worry yerself, lass. A few too many years o' livin by m'self, havin te wake a the slightesta sounds n' make a break fer it. It leads a person te be a bit jumpy." The way that the strange creature speaks is different, too. It has a musical sort of sound to it, although some of the words end up clipped or spoken with strange tones. This isn't likely an accent that the wolf would have heard, unless she happened across a certain duck in Traverse Town.

Still, the white gargress doesn't seem to realize how strange she actually is. Although she does look at the werewolf with a curious sort of tilt to her head. The slight shifts of the ears, the way she moves her head, it is certainly more similar to a wolf's natural form of communication than it is to a human. She's not sure what to make of that movement, but the little bit of fur is enough to have her raise an eyebrow as she tucks that glowing object away beneath her shirt.

"Cannae say ah've slept in a place like this b'fore, either. 's strange te have so many around." The gargress rises to her feet, and it isn't hard to see just how inhuman her features are, even if her face lacks the horns and augmentation some of her kind bare. "Are ye one of Reize Seitlan's friends? He seems te be a quite popular lad, although he probably couldnae find his way outa a barrel." While she might be talking, it's the sort of nervous speach of someone who isn't quite used to having to make any sort of conversation.

Sassaral has posed:
Nope... Zia's accent is /completely/ foreign to the little wolf! She even tilts her bandana-clad head in that inquisitive canine way, her wide eyes affixed and fascinated. THe manner of the gargress's speech is still understandable to the mage, however, and in moments' time Sassaral's small face lights up into a wide, amicable grin. Immediately it reaches her eyes, though they still bear a slightly rueful look. "Understandable... I was like that when I got here, too." She admits, and only /barely/ can a hint of something foreign be detected in the girl's words. Nowhere near as prominant as Zia, but... some syllables..

And if Sassy were to go on staring? Honestly, it's just that animal fascination.. nothing at all malicious, or judgemental. The two females go on looking at one another for a time, each tilting their head. Sassaral's ears, bearing only the slightest taper to their tips, are meanwhile hidden for the most part beneath the bandana. By now the twitchiness of her tail has slowed to a gentle swaying of the tip. She has pretty much settled down.. c___ca

Once Zia tucks away her pendant, Sassaral looks down at her toes momentarily so as to not make the sleepy gargress uneasy. Her fingers move to again pinch up the sodden hem of her skirt --- yes, leave it to Sassaral to find some manner of mud in a /desert city/ -- and pull it away from her shins. "How long have you been here, miss? Funny how I've not seen you before... but it's nice to make your acquaintance all-the-same." The werewolf offers, looking up with a shy smile from beneath the fringe of her lashes. "I.. suppose I am one of Reize's friends. He brought me here after saving me in the desert... " Her smile grows even more sheepish.

Looking up again, Sassaral finds herself noting Zia from the top of her head to the tip of her tail. Eyes freeze upon the gargress's 'cloak'. "What is your name, anyway? If I'm to scare you out of bed, I should know who you are." The girl proclaims in her sweet way. "My name is Sassaral." She offers, still seated on her bed.. looking for all the world like some little doll that fell in the mud.

Zia has posed:
Perhaps it is the bandana, or just the tangles of the girl's hair, but she isn't as clearly recognisable as a werewolf as Skoll had been. Something isn't quite right about her, though, and that is enough to give the gargress pause. For all that her wolfish friend looks human, she had only begun to trust him because of the simple fact that he /is not/ human. Reize is another story entirely - he's just harmless, at least in her mind.

"Nae tha long ago, but ah keep te m'self most o the time. Still, be'ta te have a safe place te sleep 'n food in yer belly rather than bein' cold and hungry on the streets." She raises her thin shoulders in a shrug, but the 'cloak' doesn't seem to quite move with the motion. Instead, they shift just slightly, making the leather-like material flow with her movements. "T'was Temple Knight Faruja Senra tha' invited me here, n' then the werewolf, Skoll Ulfang." She speaks both names strangely - rattling off the first in one long sequence, and the second as if it were one word being strung together.

When it comes to being asked her own name, though, the gargress hesitates, ears tucking back along her skull. "Are ye human?" She asks, tilting her head. "Maybe its nae a human trait afterall. Ah had always thought it was their way te try te name everything." She rubs at the back of her neck, stretching a little. The motion moves the clawed digits from her shoulders, and draws what could have been mistaken as a cloak up into what is obviously a pair of wings. They stretch along with her.

"Sassaral." She repeats the name, and then sighs, shaking her head. "Ah suppose it's m' pleasure te make yer aquaintence." As her hand comes back down to her side, the gargress seems more bemused than exasperated, but it's a close competition between the two. "Ah suppose ye could call me Zia if ye need te use somethin. It's a name tha a human gave me, so it's as good as any."

With a pause, the gargress looks down at the muddied dress. "Ye seem te have made a bit o' a mess of yerself, lass. How did ye manage te find mud in this, of all places?"

Sassaral has posed:
The little wolf goes on watching Zia in that very open way of hers, cupid's bow lips still curved into an amused smile. She is, actually, enjoying the manner of Zia's speech.. having never heard such a drawl before. The tip of her tail goes about wagging in earnest, setting the sodden fabric to rippling. This results in a couple of specks of dirt specking the floor and Sassaral pauses, sheepishly.

Despite her folley, the girl goes on listening to Zia's account of how long she has been at Fluorgis; her brow furrows at the notion of being cold and hungry on 'streets'. Zia shrugs, and Sassaral again notes the curious weight of that 'cloak' as it moves with the gargress's shoulders. "That was me, sorta... a few weeks ago." She offers her own empathic thought, shrugging her own shoulders as she drops her hem with a wet 'plop' against her skin. "Only I was overheated, thirsty, and..... well, that's neither here nor there. This is a safe, wonderful place." Sassaral concedes with a warm smile, her tail wagging again.. droplets be damned.

"And---" Wait, what? Sassaral pauses briefly at the mention of a 'Skoll Ulfang' who is also a 'werewolf'. It's as if a record has been caught in the middle of a song, interrupting a smooth melody. A perceptive sort may see a sort of 'surprise' imbue Sassaral's pixie-ish features, and not the sort of surprise bourne of terror of the 'oooo, werewolves.. eeek' response! She looks.. bowled over, in a sense. "A--ah... a werewolf?"

Then Zia goes and asks the question that polite little Sassaral has been skirting. Is she human? Sassaral squirms slightly upon the corner of her mattress, peering over her shoulder at the small mirror that she has on her wall for the sake of fixing her appearance. It is covered over, oddly enough, with a white doily. "N--no, miss Zia. I'm not human... definitely not. And I'd have to be a fool to assume you were, too." Blink, pause. Blush. "I--I mean...!"

She looks up, her own shock about 'werewolves' interrupted. ".. I mean that in a friendly way! I've never seen one such as yourself before! You're very beautiful, miss! I--I've never met a person with wings before...!"

As she rushes to avoid the dreaded 'rudeness', Sassaral nonethel3ess entertains Zia's latter thought. "Wouldn't you have it, I was running an errand.. getting vegetables for supper tonight... I ran into a water barrel.."

Zia has posed:
"Aye, it'd be hard te be cold on these streets. It's a different story where ah come from. In the summer, the city bakes, and in the winter, it freezes solid like ice." While gargoyles rarely felt cold the way that humans did, the thought of the snow across New York as she had seen in the past year or so is enough to draw up goosebumps on the gargress's arms. "Usually, Ah've managed te figure out ways of survivin nae matter what, but this world doesnae always make sense. It isnae as easy."

She doesn't seem to care about the mud, or the mess, but the gargress does watch that tail. It's easy enough to see the glance at the mirror, and when Sassaral confirms that she isn't human, Zia just bobs her head once, confirming her own thoughts. "An so are ye, ah'm guessin." She folds her arms across her chest, motioning a taloned hand at the mirror. "Ye look at yer reflection, and ye turn inte a great bloody wolf."

The gargoyle's ears lift a little, showing that she isn't really frightened by the prospect, "Havenae seen one up close m'self, but the other one looked mighty impressive when he was all tooth 'n fang. Guessin yer a wee bit more intimidatin, yerself." She doesn't push the issue, but the facts that she does know probably answers many of the wolf-girl's inner questions even without them being asked.

Slowly, the gargress walks towards a nearby window, her talons clicking and her tail swaying lightly behind her. "Dinnae worry yerself, lass. Ah am what Ah am, 'n ah take nae offense te ye." The compliment draws a small smile to her pale lips, the white on white making her look like some sort of fallen angel in the light from the window. "Ah've only met one of yer kind. Though Ah'm guessin he'll be glad te know he's not alone."

She might almost have gotten herself lost in the sight of the city outside the window, but the wolf's comment about how she'd gotten wet brings a small laugh. It's not so much that she's laughing at the poor girl, just amused. "Well, walkin inte a barrel is a bit different tha nae bein able te get outta one. So Ah guess yer safe." She pauses, then looks over at those obviously second-hand clothes. "Do ye have a change o' clothes, lass?"

Sassaral has posed:
Distracted again by tales of what becomes of those with 'no home', Sassaral actually looks heartbroken. She rests her hands in her lap and looks down at her knees, her lips pursing and the tip of her tail slowing it's movements, briefly. "I guess I'm lucky to have arrived here, then.. at least I was warm. But I wouldn't have lasted much longer if Reize hadn't found me.." Pause, she looks up. "I was being so stubborn! Stupidly so...!"

At least little wolf owns her mistakes. She reaches up to rub the back of her neck and by now, the mud having dried, it flakes off into her lap. "I'm glad you're here, miss Zia. I'm sorry that I haven't met you sooner... where /were/ you before you came here?" Sassaral asks in her little sing-song way, hands moving up to unfasten the bandana. Or try to. She looks alarmed to find more mud spatter in the fabric.

Cue the complete and total /freeze/. Sassy was never good at keeping secrets, but there goes the fair gargress... flawlessly calling out that which lies beneath that doll-like surface! Sassaral's jaw drops and her hands drop into her lap again, her bandana partially unfastened and rivulets of hair hanging helter-skelter alongside her face. "H--how..." Blink, breathe. "A.. great.. bloody wolf.." She whispers, and looks at her knees again. Suddenly there's part of her dress that looks /VERY/ interesting. She tugs at a loose thread as she remarks, "You're right, Zia... that's what I am.... I really try to hide it, though. Sometimes I'm.... intimidating." Nod, "Yes... it worked well, where I come from.. but not here..."

Zia switches gear, next, to the matter of Sassy ramming into a water barrel. A silly little smile dawns upon her features once more, and golden eyes peer up at the impressive sight that is the white gargress. "I do.. somewhere. I don't have a lot of clothing yet, I'm afraid.."

Zia has posed:
"It's alright, lass. We all get stubborn sometimes. Ah was tha' way m'self. Didnae want anyone's help, but... after a few days o' goin hungry and tryin te scrounge from the streets, Ah'd say this is a wee bit be'ta an alternative." At the very least, she hadn't gone hungry in the few days that she'd been roosting with the Shard Seekers, although mostly she's just been mooching off of their hospitality. It doesn't sit well with someone who has always earned their own way.

"Ah was born in Sco'land, an later came te live in a place called Manhattan. It's a world where humans dinnae usually know about magic, though Ah think they're commin te understand it now. Creatures like me, we're monsters te them. Hunted to near extinction. Nae always a nice place te call home." She offers a wry sort of smile, stepping over to her own cot to pluck up a small bag of her belongings. From within, she pulls out what looks to be a robe, colored in a dark blue. It's patched in places, with holes in the back where wings could slip through, but it would probably cover the essentials.

"Directly before here, though, ah'd been wanderin between the worlds. Got m'self right lost. Been tryin te figure out wha's been happenin an why." There are others who might have added on 'and find a way to stop it', but Zia has stayed out of such matters for so long, she's still having some trouble really putting herself into the fray.

She is just extending the robe out towards Sassaral when she starts to look both surprised, and maybe a bit worried about her identity. "Ye dinnae need te worry. Ah'm nae scared of ye, 'n if ye want, yer secret is safe with me. Ah only know of it 'cause of the other one. Knew him as a man, 'n then saw him as a great wolf, summoning creatures from the sky. Havenae seen anythin like it." She offers a small smile. "Ah'm sure ye could be, lass. Have me quakin in m' talons, I'm sure."

"Anyways, take it. Just make sure ye give it back when yer clothes are clean. Usedte belong te my father, 'n ah'm a might bit attached te it." Still, she doesn't seem bothered by letting the wolf-girl use it, at least for now. "So how did ye end up here, then?"

Sassaral has posed:
Her own predicament forgotten, Sassaral gives herself over completely to the engima that is Zia. So much so that she leans forth to lend an ear, completely unkempt and caring little about it. Wide golden eyes are bright upon a face that, still is, covered in some manner of mess as a result of her escapades. If there is anything to be gleaned from Zia's admittance of finally accepting 'help, Sassaral can discern that such a thing is hard for this winged woman to do. Call it instinct, or a good judge of character. Her shy little smile stretches, once more, into something warm and encompassing.

"Sco'land?" Sassaral asks pertly, sitting up just that bit more and resting her palms upon her knees. Her small feet kick, once, and bounce off of the edge of the bed. "What are you, anyway? I mean, what can I call you? I--I /really/ have never before seen one such as yourself---" Blink, there is suddenly a robe being offered to her. Sassaral practically glows as she chances to graze it with her fingertips, before looking up at Zia. "I really couldn't.. I do have something put aside. Really.... something as special as this.." She trails off, accepting the robe nonetheless and instinctively pressing it lightly to her nose. She breathes deep; Zia, knowing 'what' Sassaral is, may very well know what she is doing. She is seeking the stories that only scent can tell, even if the essence of Zia's father is long gone from this fabric. "Thank you, Zia... for accepting what I'm trying to hide.. and for offering this."

She holds the cloak out to the gargress, her eyes soft and warm. "I have something that I can use in lieu.. this is special. What was your father's name?" Asks Sassaral, out of honest curiosity. "What did he do?"

Regarding her /own/ experience, Sassaral thinks to answer.. "I... survived some pretty bad stuff, before coming here. I didn't know where I was going until..." She looks upon the cloak, "I should be dead, but I was saved. I have to figure out now.. what to do with this life."

Reize Seatlan has posed:
Let it be said that Reize has the huge habit of being lost. It is pretty natural for him to get lost. Sometimes, it turns out that he is generally getting lost even within his own headquarters at times. To be fair, it is bigger than what he is used to. Even now.

It was after a nice chat with a person at the market place that Reize figured that he'd settle in his room, change clothes, and perhaps take a look at the garden to reflect. It is a day of rest from his adventuring.

Unfortunately, Reize was pre-occupied and he made a wrong turn towards the girl's dormitory.

And just as he arrives, he sighs and undoes his scarf and he removes his shirt. This exposes the oddly toned body that the boy has. The shirtless Reize sees Sassaral and Zia, furrowing his eyebrows. "....Wait, what are you two doing here? This is the b---" His eyes drift towards the sign nearby.

'REIZE SEATLAN. IF YOU ARE READING THIS, THEN YOU MADE A WRONG TURN TO THE GIRL'S DORM. GET OUT!!!!! - SHIKI'

!

Reize's antenna hair flicks up in realization. Cheeks flushed RED.

"ACK!"

*ZOOOOM!*

Reize is gone.

Zia has posed:
The gargress takes a moment, and tries to affect her most practiced 'American' accent. It's the one that she tends to use when ordering a pizza or something else that requires the person on the other end of the line understanding her. "Scotland." It doesn't quite sound natural on her tongue, but it'll do.

The gargress eyes the cloak that the wolf has, tilting her head at it, and then shrugs, tossing her own robe over one arm. "If ye insist, lass." It is true that the robe had some sentimental value to her, but things are just that - things. She'd had to leave a great many of them behind. Now, the only things she still has of her parents are the robe, and the little bottle that hangs down along her neck, which holds two distinctly charred bits of wingbone. There is a second pendant, but that one is tucked below her clothes and out of sight.

"M'kind are called gargoyles. Old stories say we're defenders o' the night, but m'kind lived up on the mountains long before humans ever came te our land. Longer even tha the Fae who came after. Dinnae know wha we were supposed te be defendin back then." She shrugs, a small smile playing on her lips. It's the same sort of look she offers when the girl brings her thanks. "Pssh." The gargoyle rolls her eyes a bit, shaking her head. "Silly lass. Ye arenae runnin off fer a torch 'n pitchfork, so yer doin me a favor yerself. Dinnae worry yer pretty head over it."

As she walks back towards the bunk that she'd claimed, it would be pretty obvious that the gargress has very little to call her own. There is just a single bag, which couldn't hold very much in it. "M'Da?" She asks, and then shrugs her shoulders. "He was a hunter, and an apprentice te a human mage fer a while. Gave it up when he met m'mum. He usedte swear tha he saw the moon rise in her eyes. Silly thing, aye?"

As she packs the robe back into her bag, Zia glances back towards the wolf, curious. "Well, yer nae the only one tryin te navigate tha road. Ah usually avoided people up 'till recently. Figurin out just how to deal wi' them, 'n just where ah belong in all this. Bit of a big task."

And just as she starts to talk about this, a certain boy comes walking in and stripping. The gargress just stands there, stares, and then watches him turn tail and run. "Is... tha a common thing 'round here?" She asks, looking absolutely confused. She's now seen more of Reize than she ever expected to. At the very least, he isn't terrible to look at, thank the gods.

Sassaral has posed:
"Gargoyles..." Sassaral echoes again, the scent gleaned from the robe still emblazoned in the girl's olfactory memory. After returning said robe to Zia, the werewolf hopped back onto her bed and it is there at the end of the mattress she sits. Her sullied state is forgotten for now as, currently, she has a much more intriguing distraction. "Defenders of the night! That sounds impressive..." She trails off, and actually looks a bit stricken at the pitchfork comment. "I--I could do no such thing... how could people be so cruel, as to..."

Trailing off again, Sassaral observes Zia as she approaches her own bunk to replace the robe. The tale of the gargress's father appeals to the little werewolf's romantic soul and she leans forth a bit more at that, her own tail swaying slowly; her semi-lupine ears (mostly obscured by her shock of hair) cocking forth a tad. "Oh!" Pause.. the remark of the 'moon rise in her eyes'. Sassaral's smile becomes just a /tad/ silly. "T--that's beautiful... how romantic." She chimes, flopping back with her legs dangling over the edge of the bed. She props herself up on her elbows, peering over at Zia again.

Lying supine with her belly bare... a sign of trust, were one to read into the werewolf's body language.

"I would have been hard-pressed to hear something like THAT from some of the boys I grew up with... they'd sooner bring a fresh kill than say something so sweet." Sassaral says, her tone mirthful. Still on that romantic trajectory, Sassaral starts with another question. "Have you ever had a mate, Z----"

Wait wait, hold up. WHAT just happened. In a span of minutes, in true Reize-fashion, the boy himself comes barrelling into the girls' dorm in his shirtless glory. Sassaral just so happened to look over at that exact moment, earning an eyefull and ultimately, a rather extensive perusal of Reize's chest! Agh! Blushing brilliantly, the girl claps her palms over her eyes with a yelp. One would think her to be rather chill with displays like that, but Sassaral so happened to be one of the more 'conservative' members of her doomed family. She can be just a /bit/ shy!

Reize flees, and Sassaral peeks at Zia from between her fingers. "Serves me right for asknig of you such a personal question. You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

Zia has posed:
"It's jus' stories." The white gargoyle lays a hand over her pack, the other coming up to touch her chest, where the crystal lies hidden. When she turns, any hint of more somber thoughts has been wiped from her features, her ears at half-mast as she offers a small smile. "Most o' m'kind are jus' tryin te survive these days. It isnae so unusual, though. Ah suspect tha if a great furry werewolf came inte town, they'd get much the same reaction. Humans are scared'a wha' they dinnae understand."

For all the time that she'd spent watching them, Zia had never developed much of an affinity for humans. Sure, she could understand their fear, but that didn't excuse the genocide of an entire species, pushing them to the brink of extinction - and it isn't just humans. They did it time and time again with the creatures fo their world.

"M'da believed tha' there's always someone out there for a person. Tha' when ye find them, it's jus' somethin ye know in yer heart, and ye havete follow whereva it leads ye." She chuckles, tucking a strand of white hair behid her ear as she approaches the wolf-girl's bunk, watching her quietly. She has no idea about wolfish mannerisms, but she is curious. "Ah dinnae know 'boot all tha. Ah cannae say ah've ever had m'world change jus' fer meetin someone." But... her world /had/ changed by meeting someone, hadn't it?

Shaking the thought from her mind, Zia seems about to say something when the Reize incident distracts her. She's left staring for a time, trying to figure out what to say - not just to Reize's sudden shirtless arrival, but also to the question. A small hint of color shows on her features as the gargoyle turns her eyes back to Sassaral, shaking her head. "Nae lass. M'kind mate fer life, but... ah havenae even seen a male o' m'kind tha wasnae related te me. Ah've heard tha there's a few in Manhattan, but... ah guess ah always figured if it was gointe find me, it would. Rather than me goin off searchin fer it."

Maybe that is part of why she had never sought out the Wyvern clan. She certainly knew about their existence, even if they might be unaware of hers. Maybe, she just wasn't ready to find some other gargoyle to give her heart to. Not when there was so much of the world out there still left to see. "Wha' 'boot ye, lass? Any special wolf out there for ye?" It's a question she does ask with some sensitivity. She knew from Skoll that their world was gone - not just dragged to darkness by the Heartless, but truly gone.

Sassaral has posed:
At the notion of the response given to a 'great furry werewolf' waltzing into town, Sassaral breaks into chiming laughter. "I'd bet... it's not something I'm going to test anytime soon, unless.... unless I have to." She remarks of her 'other form', glancing over a shoulder at the covered mirror. "What was so easy and natural in my world... may not jibe well here.." She whispers to herself, soon shaking her auburn-haired head. "But you're right, Miss Zia. People really do scare easily, don't they?" The little werewolf asks, her tail swaying beneath her dirty skirt.

Sitting up from her prone position, Sassaral reaches over a shoulder to grab up one thick cord of hair. Small fingers begin picking and pulling at the ribbon that keeps things in place, and it becomes clear that the werewolf has intentions to go get cleaned up before long. Washing her mop of hair is always an ordeal. Her golden gaze flits up to watch Zia as the gargress addresses the matter of love once more, and how it works in gargoyle-dom. "It is.. kinda similar, where I'm from. Depends on the size of the pack though.. but at least where I'm from, people mated for life. It's not unheard of, though, for wolves to form... u--um..." Blush, a silly grin. "Well, joint unions. But my parents had none of that. Mom and Dad loved one another til' the end."

That said, she tilts her head in a display of canine curiousity at the notion of Zia having to seek a mate. She tilts her chin up prettily, eyes glittering. "I think /you/ should be sought. Let the male do the work, seeking out the pretty lady. But.." A somber look, and the girl smiles softly. "It's better to just live first.. let life happen. My sister was mated, but not me. I was always told by my parents at least to not rush off to find a mate, and I followed that advice. There's so much to see.. especially after being given another chance on life." Sassaral admits, and though her cheekbones color she rolls easily into her answer to Zia's question.

"There was no special wolf... I wanted to keep to myself for awhile to learn my magic. My pasttimes were hailed as kinda.. unorthodox, in my pack. Where I should have settled into being a mother and a gatherer, I wanted something else." Sassaral beams, waving her hand once. "I don't take offense though... it's just the way it goes sometimes. Be a mother or a hunter." She works at unfurling her other braid, brow furrowed. "I kinda wish that I sought someone when I had the chance, though.... but with our world gone.."

Zia has posed:
"Probably fer the best." So far, Zia had only ever seen Skoll in his wolf form at a great distance. Trying to imagine the great beast up close is enough to make her feel... just a little intimidated. "At least in yer world, ye were accepted in either form. It isnae the case in mine. Te so many humans, ah'm just a monster. But it's nae like Ah'm gointe snatch their children and use em to make m'bread or somethin. Tha's ogres, mindye."

The gargoyle settles herself down at the edge of the bed, finding that for some reason, she does feel a bit more at home with the werewolf girl. Maybe it's just her experience with their kind that makes that transition from wary to accepting come quicker than with others. "Ah've ne'er heard of such a trio in m'own culture, but m'clan has always been small fer as long as Ah can remember. Jus m' mum 'n da 'n brother 'n aunt. They're gone now, though." She uses 'gone' rather than dead, probably because she doesn't really know the fate of her brother and aunt, and saying her parents are dead... is a hard thing even after so many years.

She does smile though, laughing softly to herself. "Ye have the right thoughts on it lass. Let the suiters come. If ah find em wantin, ah'll show their tales te the door." It's brave talk, but she's never really had a boy show any interest in her, so really - the gargress has no clue how she'll react. "Ah'm in no great rush m'self. Tha's kinda why ah've kept away from the others. Figure the last thing ah need right now is some lovestruck boy followin me around." Still, she can hear that slight tone of regret in the other girl's voice. "Well, it's nae like there willnae be other chances, even here. Ah happente know a quite nice and also quite eligible young wolf, and if ye stick around here, Ah'm sure ye'll get a chance to meet him."

Those long ears flick slightly, "Besides, there's a huge world out there. Ye never know. There could be others o' yer kind. Love's a strange thing, or so Ah've heard. Still, ye've got friends, so it's nae like ye'll really be alone." Without actually saying it, it seems as if the gargress is including Sassaral in that group of 'friends'. Maybe, just maybe, she sees a bit of herself in the lost girl - a bit of a kindred spirit.

Sassaral has posed:
It's almost comical, how Sassaral's features shift at the mention of kids and bread and.. "Ogres? That's horrible!" She yelps, dropping her hands into her lap following her earlier fluster and looking frankly at the gargress. "I hope THEY didn't carry over into this world... why would..." Pause, she handwaves. No use getting in a lather over a creature that -- hopefully -- did not make a debut into the World of Ruin. That's the last thing the little werewolf's overactive imagination needs... c.c;

When Zia settles just that little bit more, propping herself at the edge of the bed, Sassaral relaxes just that bit more in turn. The frothy tip of her tail sways slowly at her ankles, speaking of the girl's relaxed mood. Unable to help but smiling the barest bit, the werewolf flits her golden eyes to her new friend's fair features. Do all gargoyles look so striking? Unbeknownst to Sassaral, they come in /many/ shapes and sizes. Her lupine ears perk slightly beneath her halo of scruffy auburn tresses once Zia speaks of her family being 'gone' (and not dead). Ever the optimist, Sassaral latches onto that term..

"Gone.. so... missing, then? Maybe, miss Zia, there is the /slightest/ hope of some of your kin being alive, isn't there? Or," Sassaral looks stricken, and rests a hand to her collarbone. ".. sorry, that's pretty forward of me. I liken the word 'gone' to missing... but..." She pauses again, wanting so badly to ask about what happened to Zia's family. The question burns bright in her eyes but her lips do not move to form the words. It's not her place to ask that.. not yet. Unless the gargress reads the curiosity in her features and prods her to do so!

When Zia agrees with her outlook on suitors, the touch of sadness leaves Sassaral's small face and her mouth opens into a half-grin. "That's the spirit! Make them work for you.." Sassaral chimes, fluffing her hair and even while dishevled, she makes the action appear pretty. She is, all-in-all with her mud and grit, an aesthetic write-off at this moment.. but like any canine at heart, she procrastinates about having to take a bath and see to a toilette! Pfff!

Word of this elusive 'other werewolf on site' hits Sassaral between the eyes once again and the girl colors somewhat. "Ah! U--um.. haha," She rubs the back of her neck again, looking down at her knees. "We'll just have to see... I still can't believe I haven't caught his scent... mind you, there's so much happening in this place, /all/ the time. The scent could be buried... there are puppies around, for one. I wonder who they belong to..." Sassaral muses, then shrugs small shoulders. "No matter.. a meeting will happen at the right time.. a--and I'm not about to wander the world looking for others. It's too dangerous out there, and there are plenty of interesting folks /here/ that I really want to get to know."

Looking squarely at Zia, Sassaral indicates the gargress herself with that open, wide gaze. Looks like the feeling is mutual, this term of 'friend'. "Do you like it here in Fluorgis here, Zia? Compared to this... Manhattan?"

Zia has posed:
"Ah dinnae think ye have much te worry aboot, lass. They're nae but fairytale creatuers 'n m'world. But..." The gargress hesitates, looking as if she isn't sure she should say anything else on the matter. Still, she's not one to pull punches. "Ah've already seen all sortsa creatures ah ne'er thought possible. Werewolves fer instance." She notes.

Rather than answering her ill-fated question about family, Zia reaches to pull out a small bottle which is sealed with wax, dangling from a chain about her neck. Within it, there are two small charred bones. Really, they're just flecks of bones. "M'da was killed when ah was a wee child. Mum died nae long after. Ah dinnae think tha she could live wi'out him. Ah cannae imagine a love like tha." She shrugs, her expression somber and sad. Wrapping her hand around the bottle, the gargess tucks it back down beneath her shirt.

"M'brother 'n aunt left before tha, 'n ah havenae seen them since." There is perhaps some chance that they still live, but she has her doubts on the matter. She watches the wolf's strange way of excusing herself, and that soft smile returns, "Oh quit worryin herself aboot offending me. It'd take more than questions te bother me."

Glancing at the window, Zia pushes herself back to her feet then, "It seems scary, this big interconnected world, but it isnae all tha' bad. Fer me, Ah wante see it. Tha way, even if the darkness comes again te claim it, Ah'll remember." It's a strange way of looking at the world, but gargoyles really aren't creatures of religion. They don't even usually have names for each other, so everything is simply... memory.

"Hmm?" Distracted slightly, Zia shrugs. "Safer tha Manhattan, but there's somethin aboot m'own world tha makes it special, Ah guess." She clears her throat, feeling a little embarassed for the comment, "Ah should let ye get te yer bath. Ah'll go stand guard, make sure nae wanderin boys come te interrupt ye." She thumbs at the door.