the princess and the pauper

The flickering of fireflies dotted the secluded grove. It was near the end of summer and Temperate was still lush with foliage. Killian hop-skipped through the grasses, not a care in the world. At this point in his travel, he still didn't know where the hell he was. Some hell probably; he wasn't egotistic to believe he'd go to heaven anyway. If he was on his way to being redeemed, he couldn't know. This place was terribly dull even after a few chance encounters.

Nothing really 'drew' him in. Offers fell on deaf ears so far. If he had been part of a community upon a time, Killian thought it was also terribly dull. Conforming was for those with no personality and no survival skills. He could trick his way through life and had the vanity to believe he'd be doing it for a long time. Nothing exactly fell into his lap. He worked damn hard for everything. Well, in the past... He thought he could go on a whim here. His blue eyes cast over the scene, spotting a deer.

At least, he assumed it had been a deer at first.

She was a solid brunette almost, all colored pretty - for a little lady anyway. He wasn't a creep and he did not chase after yearlings despite his age being almost close to them. He called a greeting to her, allowing her the pleasure of knowing he was nearby. He wasn't going to sulk in the shadows. He was too pretty.

@Mauve

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Weary paws graced against the ever-growing stretch of earth, she had managed to get herself turned around. Why must all trees look the same… though the familiarity of Elkshire had faded ages ago and she was in a desperate search to get on the path back? Her eyes of porcelain blue with flecks of molten gray had slid behind her lids. Drawing in a deepened breath of pure frustration, her lungs filling and deflating in an exaggerated sigh. There was no way she could be lost in her first week of living… that would be preposterous. She knew she should not have wandered so far but she had been in search of various flowers and herbs. Wishing nothing more than to bring them to the healer as a gift and hoping in the scholarly teachings that she might be useful for the pack in the future.

Queen Celnes… the first encounter was colder than she had expected. She could not blame her, instead respected her. She had intentions of prolonging the future of the pack, that was keeping their bloodlines clean from the illegitimate of a non-royal. Mauve was nothing to the royal family in this realm. Her memories had been wiped and she would not receive them back… she had accepted that. Perhaps her other life was nothing of importance, she was something of a nobody. Oh, how wrong she was. She commanded an entire nation until her crown was taken away by her husband’s poison.

Her gaze swept the scenery, trying her best to remember which way was back to the Royal Woodlands. Her ears perked forward, audits swiveling until she could hear the vibration of the baritone voice settle to the wind. Metallic blue orbs registered against another, his lean figure peering from the brush. At first, he looked to be snow white, graced with a soft pink nose that reminded her of a rabbit. His gaze embodied her own, except his did not carry a second color. Her gaze slipped past her muzzle to the intricate of brown against his form, following suit was cream. There was no denying he was an individual. Not many Elkshire wolves held much difference except for the scornful scar of white or cream. It seemed as though many did not enjoy the structure of their fur when it carried anything but brown. She had been “blessed” from what she was told by others.

Her form relaxed, though poised in a position that if he meant to cause trouble she was prepared for the outcome. With the seasons changing her scent brought forth the sharpness of orange accompanied by the scents of cinnamon and vanilla. Giving a taut smile, her ears perked and tail in a neutral stance, “Hello.” Her softened accent that had been carried over from her lands of the beyond was placed against her tongue.

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Oh, bollocks. 

Why did she have to sound so dignified. It wasn't often he fumbled but he did feel self-conscious due to his own accent. Hers was right and proper. Reminded him of those in his realm, totally 'upper class'. Or so they assumed. Killian didn't really feel like going into the whole clinging to the past vibe they gave off. The material gain was not a thing in this world. The coin was not coined, as it were. He let out an awkward chuckle, and he didn't know why.

Wait. He did.

He laughed at his own stupid joke.

"Oh" that could be rude "sorry about that, love, I wasn't laughing at you" He grinned sheepishly "just thought of something, totally mind you, unrelated" Was it really? But he wasn't about to admit it to her - She could have come from another strange land. Without money. How does one explain money to another? "anyway" He rolled his eyes at himself "rudeness aside, name's Killian. Didn't want anything from you. Felt it was rude to walk around and" He paused -

- He gestured around them with a raised limb.

"Not announce myself to a pretty lass."

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Greeted by silence. She had wondered if he had not heard her properly, perhaps she should speak louder. Just as she was about to repeat herself he let out a chuckle. Her eyes widened momentarily before shifting her gaze from side to side. This was a rather awkward encounter. She gave a smile, followed by her fake laugh. She was about to shift in a different direction, her teeth clenched as she made a face that showed just how uncomfortable she was between his ghost laughter. Had her voice sounded funny to him, surely her accent was not that terrible that he had to laugh.

A quick dismissal of his actions occurred, this time her eyes did not widen out of nerves but surprise. He held the same tone of her own, though his tone was abrupt. It seemed as though they were of the same origin but from different counties. A small smile tethered to her lips, “Oh thank heavens, for a moment there I thought you had gone mad.” She chuckled, her voice holding a teasing tone to try and lighten the mood between them.

She understood the confinements of one mind may think something entirely off subject and deem itself a chuckle. She had often found a thought of two that seemed funny to her at times, though knew it would only be shared between herself. He introduced himself and finally Mauve had a name to the face, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Killian.” His name pleasantly formed from her tongue. Feeling her cheeks burst with the heated sensation of a blush, compliments were far and few for her.

“My name is…” She had to pause, “Mauve.” Hesitance in introducing herself to a name that still seemed so foreign to her. Given by Warwick upon her entry to this world and had grown rather fond of the name. It was suitable to her nature. She looked around the trees, “Well since we have been introduced, would you like to accompany me? I have been utterly lost since I’ve started searching for herbs, though a lady in the company of a man alone… how scandalous would that be.” She smirked.

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Damn her. Not for any good reason; just for the reason she could bat her eyes and twist and he'd come running. Such was the life of a young man, prime of his life, fooled by a pretty face. "Who said I ain't mad, love?" he grinned almost wickedly, teasing "you could be right on the money" Fuck "with that assessment." The hell, why did he drop that money term? Stupid.

Mauve. He recalled it as a pretty common name where he had been from. He tilted his head to the side, regarding her. Names gave a window into the soul, and he could not find her outwardly being anything but a pretty brunette. Perhaps her soul was colored royal instead? Purple, of course, is the color of royalty. "It suits you, for what it's worth." Killian had a feeling there was a story behind it. Though he resisted asking.

"Don't have to ask me twice" he began, walking a bit closer. Hop-skip as his pace was at times "it was pretty boring here until you showed up. Had only my lonesome to talk to. He didn't wanna talk back" The young man chuckled at his stupid joke "but I promise I ain't mad. Just a bit off my rocker, but ain't we all?"

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"Who said I ain't mad, love?"

He had a point, had she thought the male had a bolt or two loose, perhaps? Not wishing to come off as rude she simply nodded softly, “I guess you are right, no sane person would laugh at a woman so directly.” Her teasing voice had still been present, making no indication to be weirded out by his actions. He seemed saner in enlightening on why he had laughed. One with no sound mind would need an explanation. He spoke that she had it ‘on the money, trying her best not to look confused. Perhaps it was slang in Canis that she was not aware of. Without remnants of her memories, she was a blank canvas, and slowly she started to draw her painting. With each passing day and each drawn breath, the artwork was becoming more vibrant. Showing herself in the true colors - instead of black and white.

As introductions were passed from one another, she smiled momentarily, “Thank you, it was given to me when I had awoken. I am rather fond of it.” She very much had thought her name was properly placed. She had intentions of speaking to Warwick once more, wanting to ask his aide for sparring. Teaching her how to fight would be a useful skill in the future.

His acceptance of her invitation, she smiled warmly as she shifted in a direction she assumed was home. It was less scary when another was bound with her, “Oh, of course.” She smiled, moving to bounce her hip against his own, “If you weren’t so ‘off your rocker’ I would have pegged you for being boring.” Her paws would walk with him through the forest. Catching the sight of a river, she padded at a faster pace. Placing her paws at the water’s edge, moving downwards to take a drink of the cool liquid. Slowly waiting for the male to come forward, a smirk playful against her maw.

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Ahh... Miss Pretty Face had some spunk. He laughed, this time with her instead of by his lonesome. Good, it'd be really boring if she had a stick up her ass. Discomfort aside, she would walk funny too. Who got hurt by this? Her. Not him. He was free of the stick, thank you very much. Or at least last he checked. Before the thought entered fully into his mind, she closed the distance he was so close to removing. Her hip bumped against his own, and Killian dramatically swayed to the side. 

He wasn't a very strong fighter, kind of tiny compared to some guys out there. She could easily throw him down if she wanted. Point was, was to subtly make her feel powerful. 

"Oh, is that all?" He mused after situating himself properly "nobody was nice enough to give me a name. I feel rightly insulted now" He also sighed, furrowing his brow "here I am, using my brain to remember. Do people just give names out? Madness." His mother - bless her dead heart - had been the one to name him. She died shortly after he was weaned. As for dear old dad? Never in the picture. The whole 'bang and leave' sort. He didn't like the type, even if he had vicariously lived that life.

Mauve proclaimed he wasn't boring, and Killian made quick work of proving this. As she bent her head to the water, leaving him behind, it took all of one second before impulse set in. He zoomed to the right of her, taking a mighty leap, and SPLASH! His paws hit the ground hard, but so worth it. Water everywhere. Water on him, of course. He wasn't without the pain too. But also water on her. He stuck a tongue out. "Can't have you disappointed, love." He said this so seriously it was hard not to laugh.

Luckily, he didn't mind folks laughing at him. Came with the silly way he demanded them to see him as.

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