It's Apple Picking Season

Fruit!

That's what Rem wanted, what he needed and she realized that soon enough before he starved. Of course he wouldn't eat bugs, Remington was a FRUIT BAT! Judging by his face and diurnal rhythm, Estelle was certain of it now and knew she smelled apples upon her travels to the strange caves and at least had a pretty good idea where to get him some food fast.

With him loosely hanging onto her nape, she'd walk with purpose. Fast enough to make haste in her travels, but also not fast enough that he'd be jostled off and lost along the way to become some other predator's easy meal or victim to the chilling season coming soon.

The smell of apples soon filled the air, some were overly ripe but others she was confident were still good enough. Placing Rem down on a bundle of leaves she had gathered to keep him off the cold ground and on some kind of bed, she'd run off to gather a few apples. The best she could find! The sweet odour was intoxicating, and knowing her, wouldn't waste the opportunity to eat some herself and treat this as some kind of picnic between friends.

Coming back to her resting companion, she'd bite off a piece of the fruit, chew it up lightly and offer it to the small creature. Making it easy for them to chew and swallow in their weakened state, hoping that this would bring them back to life soon enough along with more TLC through the next week or so.

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She had never seen a wolf with a bat, never seen a wolf feed a bat either. It was a curious thing to watch, especially from afar; at first, Savan had thought the Velaris girl was throwing up or something like that but upon approach, well....

She couldn't help the confused, perhaps disgusted, perhaps judgmental look she gave.

Teeth clicking as she shut her hung-jaw, Savan looked back up to the girl, not hesitating to ask:

“What are you doing?”

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Deliciously sweet, Estelle made quick work of her share of the fruit and was thankful that there was an abundance of them in this grove. Their warm reds cutting through the contrasting greens, with their sweet aroma perfuming the air - it would be easily done to eat hers and Remington's fill for the season without leaving.

“What are you doing?” The words cut through the juicy crunching of fruit flesh. Sweet liquids sticking to her lips gleefully wiped away with a swipe of her tongue. “Why eating apples of course.” Estelle didn't the look given to her by this woman. That judgemental stare that all Valerians seemed to look at her with. This one was of the same pack, so it made sense.

“Have you tried some? They're delicious.”

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Of course she was judgmental. She was Velarion; it was in their blood, in the threads of their souls. They were born hypercritical, and they would die as such. For them, there was no in between, just as there was no in between for family and outsider.

Eating apples was obvious. What was not obvious was that she then un-ate them and instead fed them to her bat. Chilled eyes were still settled on the bat, unable to help the slightest tilt to her head. This situation all but confused her.

“No, I see that,” she would say with a certain tone of exasperation. “I meant what are you doing with the bat.”

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The woman's tone wasn't lighting up, if anything it held the same exhaustion if not worse than before. Honestly, what did she do to get such a reaction from nearly all of them? It made her heart drop - all she wanted was companions, packmates, friends - and she instead felt like some outsider in middle school filled with children who grew up together; and Estelle was the new kid.

“Helping him eat. His mouth is much smaller than mine.” And he still seemed so young. She'd bite off another piece, occupying herself with the bat more so than the Velarian. “I found him, he's regaining strength.” She'd continue, half-expecting the other woman to ignore everything said just to bombard her with more questions. “Can I help you with anything?”

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Helping him eat. As if it were obvious, as if it were as normal as a rainy day. But it was not and Savan, at times, had trouble comprehending that veered from normality. For her, it wasn't personal, nor had it ever been.

“How do you know what is good for him and what is not?” And then, a moment later: “How do you know how to care for it?” Savan's tail flicked behind her as she asked these questions, ears pushed forward only to catch the not-quite-hidden attitude the curly-furred girl fired back at her. Savan gave her a flat look, air rushing through her nose in a huff.

“You can stop acting like you have a stick up your ass. I haven't seen a wolf care for a non-wolf before and I'm asking fucking questions. Deal with it.” Even still, none of Savan's words were meant personally. It would only be the girl that could take them poorly.

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Why was she getting run through the ringer suddenly? “Because I tried different things.” There was a knot forming in the pit of her stomach. Should she tell this woman that she tried bugs? Bugs of all kinds and it was when Rem was given fruit that he started to eat. Would that just annoy the woman all the steps taken prior to figure things out?

Before anything else the woman snapped. Cussing at her with pointed accusations of it was she who had something wrong with her! Should she snap back in regards to how Velarions had made her feel lately? That this one approaching with a harsh tune and bombardment of questions only made her feel uncomfortable? “I don't want to talk anymore.” Instead she chose to try and end the conversation here.

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“Ridiculous. Someone’s trying to learn about what you’re doing, and you just want to clam up?” Yes, her tone had been harsh but it wasn’t personal. It was how Savan was with anyone who wasn’t in her circle. She had treated @Vahaelarr the exact same way. Although, she supposed that she hadn’t cursed at him, nor had he been doing anything weird, other than lingering near their borders.

“You must realize that I’m not trying to insult you.” Perhaps, it was as close as Savan could get to apologizing, recognizing that she’d been a bit of a bitch. Rather that she was A bit of a bitch now. And her scarred, stiff face didn’t help anything.
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Never had her own mother even spoken to Estelle this way. Nor her aunts or father, none of the adults in her life had ever spoken to the girl in such a way. She was going to clam up, not knowing what she could say to diffuse the situation. Hoping that the woman would just grow bored and wander off and maybe, maybe if Estelle was lucky, would forget all about her and just remain as the ghost of Valaris.

At this rate, did she even want to stay in Velaris?

Of course she did. It was for the better to stay in a pack rather than risking the lone lands. Plus, there were worse packs she could belong to. Those who would do much worse than pretend she didn't exist - or found her to be annoying in some way, shake or form. But still, it somehow didn't make it any better.

So she'd remain quiet. Just turning her back to woman and focusing on the bat that held itself close to her chest, clinging to a forearm of hers.

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Savan rarely did what others wanted from her; even if she’d been planning on doing it anyway, if the star-pelted girl felt like someone wanted her to do it, she’d do something else. Which… was exactly what happened now. She got the feeling that Miss Batty wanted her to leave (it was not hard to pickup on with the way the chocolate colored woman ignored her), and so instead, Savan would move closer and plant herself close enough to watch, but not close enough to be threatening.

She lay in her chosen spot and watched with those icy eyes, deciding on not saying anything more since she only seemed to upset the girl.
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Why.

Why was she spit out near a pack such as this? One she thought to be kind, misunderstood perhaps like Tamir's tough exterior but certainly kind once you walked through the brambles - but where did the brambles end? They never seem to have an end to them.

Especially with this woman here, the maze of thorns just kept going further than her eyes could see.

This was so unfair. What did she do to deserve any of this? Was she expected to just smile in the face of frowns and glares?

The woman crept closer and laid down. No action was taken other than that, and yet Estelle flinched still. As though just the stare alone was heavier than any paw that slapped across her face.

In this moment she shrunk even further, wanting to disappear in Rem's wings if the sizes were reversed. She wanted to go home. Not here. Not Velaris - home. Even though it was nothing but a pile of ash and wastelands, at least even with nothing they all still managed to smile.

“Why do you do this?” A desperate attempt to make any sense of this.

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“Because I have no notion of how to understand you and get to know you otherwise. If you haven't noticed, I don't have great people skills.” Her brutal honesty extended to herself as much as it extended to anyone else, knowing her own faults like the back of her paw. She would admit them, too, for to ignore them was to admit weakness and make yourself vulnerable to things that crawled under your skin.

She did not move otherwise, her tail flat on the ground behind her, ears pointed forwards as she watched the girl and her... pet bat. What an odd thing to witness; she had heard of bird companions but... a bat was a new one.

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It was so strange. Estelle had a moment of understanding. That a little light was turned on and though the details were faint and shrouded in shadow, she could still make out the shapes that made up Savan's thoughts.

Were all Velarions like this? It could explain why she couldn't understand them. They lacked the same social training that she and her family had when they were pups - or maybe they were taught something else. There was no judgement in this thought, just a yearning to understand.

Which seemed mutual to an extent.

Holding her tongue she wouldn't try to ease the tension by laughing that perhaps all Velarions were similar. It didn't seem right, not the appropriate time for such jests.

“Perhaps... we can start with names?” It was her attempt an an olive branch. Much better than harsh, pointed questions as though she was some cray bat lady. “I'm Estelle.”

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She was a crazy bat lady, but that didn't mean that she wasn't another living, breathing creature. And as rough around the edges as Savan was nowadays, it didn't mean she didn't have a heart; it just meant that it was tiny and small and kept safe inside what could be compared to a nuclear bomb shelter.

But it seemed this method was better than questioning her, as the curly-furred wolf settled down a little and offered to exchange names. “Savan.” She paused for a moment, shaking her head, ears flapping loudly against her skull before she let herself yawn, jaws splitting wide. A subconscious show of her relaxing, as though it would make Estelle relax as well.

“Does... it...? have a name?”

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This was much better. The anxiety that felt tight in her chest seemed to loosen its grip and allow the girl to breathe freely once more. Though their words and expressions were hurtful, she wouldn't hold it against them.

It was no one's fault after all. The way they were raised worked for each member, they all made it to the ages they were now with the tools given tot hem by their parents. Whos to say one method was better than the other?

Seeing Savan yawn, Estelle had to do the same. Not purposely, but subconsciously. Easing the tension in her shoulders all the while turning back her attention on the bat. “I named him Remington.” She'd smile, thinking of the following before it was uttered. “I had a friend back home with that name, it felt right.”

Giving a little more than what was asked, she closed her mouth and kept the smile. Tossing her large russet eyes back to Savan as though waiting for something else to be asked. Go on, she said non-verbally. Almost as though coaching hands off.

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“I would say that is an odd name for a bat, but I have never known a bat's name, so.” Her shoulders shifted in some sort of shrug, limited by the way she was laying on the floor of the grove, the leaves of the wisteria trees littering the ground all around them.

“Why is your fur curly?” She had never seen that before, either. This girl was full of first experiences for the reborn wolf, something that drew Savan's curiosity out more than usual. As a child she had been highly inquisitive, though she now felt that she had been more naive than anything. Such naivety had led to her death; something she would never forget, nor would she ever allow such a thing to happen again.

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“He's not just a bat —” She paused, lost in a moment while thinking of the appropriate thing to call what she thought Remington was. Looking up at the night sky and watching bats flutter around while they caught bugs was one thing. Those were just bats. Just as other unknown individuals were just wolves, but Savan was Savan. She was a packmate, even if it was hard to see some times. “He's a friend.” That's what made him different.

Attention moved elsewhere. Something more personal but nothing uncomfortable. It made her face feel warm to have it questioned. “I actually don't know.” The young woman said shyly. “We all had a bit of curls, I didn't know I was strange. Do you know why your fur is not?”

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