- Calli groaned in pain as he lifted her up and carried her to the kitchen. She winced slightly as her brother set on the counter and her heel knocked against the cupboard underneath. After laying down for so long, she felt dizzy sitting in an upright position. Swaying, she fumbled with the damp washcloth her brother had given her. “Why do I ne-need this?” She stuttered. Was that her voice? Did she sound that weak? That stupid? She gazed at the washcloth for a long, searching for an answer in the damp folds of material. Finally it hit her that she should wash off her dirt-streaked arms and legs. The water felt good against her dry skin and a sign of relief tumbled from her lips. After her arms and legs were cleaned as well as they could be, Calli scrubbed her face. She felt better, at least a little. That is, until a new voice interrupted her thoughts. She dropped her washcloth in surprise and her eyes sought the voice’s owner. She could smell that he was a werewolf, but she could not lay a finger on whether she knew him or not. Her hard sapphire eyes narrowed upon his face, but she said nothing. Blake was already addressing this stranger.
Although the gesture from Christopher was kindly, Calli crossed her arms and sulked, “No.” She retorted. “I don’t want to be carried.” She knew this simple act of defiance wouldn’t work, considering Blake was stronger than she was and she needed to be at the meeting on time. With her scowl set, Calli looked like a ghost of her former self. She was slender before, but now she was bone thin. Having not found a particular interest in human food like JELLO, Callista’s ribs could be counted easily. Her muscle was rapidly disappearing, because she couldn’t walk. Her skin was gray and sickly, and her eyes had dark circles around them for lack of sleep. She looked appalling, but at least some of her attitude had returned. Her frown deepened as Blake gathered clipboards and other miscellaneous crap and dumped it in Christopher’s arms. That meant, whether she wanted to or not, Calli would have to be carried. Resigned to her fate, Calli’s fire was extinguished as she put up a feeble argument, “The least you could do is carry me there and let me walk into the clearing.” Calli, a true Malcolm wolf, would endure the pain rather than be pitied.
{ callista malcolm | beta werewolf | in the cabin | with blake & christopher }
When she jumped in surprise and cocked her fists in a defensive manner, Emre hopped back and cocked an eyebrow. He mirrored her actions when she relaxed and he took a casual step forward, though still giving her space in case she wanted to throw a punch. “It seems that I am the one who should say sorry,” Emre said, ducking his head in respect. His voice was like a low purr, the r’s catching ever so slightly in his speech. “I apologize.” He moved closer and sat down opposite of her at her table. With careful hands, he pulled the bagel apart and handed her half. His face held an expression that was so complicated, but most of it was filled with concern. He did not speak though, he just scraped the butter onto his bagel with a plastic knife. He pushed the utensil and butter across the table to her and proceeded to bite his breakfast. Only then did he realize that he gave this potential mad-woman a handy weapon. He prayed to the God above, ‘Allah, let her not kill me with a buttered weapon made of plastic,’ and chuckled a little to himself. For some reason, this situation had struck him as very funny. He set his bagel down, though he only took one bite, and took a sip of his drink. He was dying of curiosity as to why she looked like she had been in a hurricane, but he bit back his questions. His eyes only searched her face once and, after that, he kept a steady gaze away from the girl.
{ emre di franco | human | in the cafe | with cheyenne }
