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Post by Connor Pine on Oct 8, 2009 20:10:50 GMT 1
Given the way the two of them were, Amelia well adept at keeping a secret and Connor defensive and untrusting by nature, it was no surprise that there was hardly a free-flow of information between them. Far from it, in fact. Amelia’s smell, her appearance, hell, even her gender might have been enough to pique Connor’s curiosity, but that didn’t mean he was going to open up to her. Nor was he suddenly going to develop good manners and a charming personality. Unfortunately when you’d lived in the fringes of society for most of your life you generally behaved like it too.
When it came to information about their race Connor was used to being the underdog. He’d been a little young to hear about the legends of werewolves as a child, he definitely never thought to read a book about it (he wasn’t that good at reading anyway) and he’d only recently discovered the magical world, so he was pretty clueless about the way their society was as steeped in prejudice against them as muggles were. What little he knew he’d learned from the experience of every change and the few werewolves he’d bumped into over the years, so he was quite taken aback by Amelia’ curiosity. Nobody had ever taken an interesting in him before.
”You seem...” Connor paused, not sure how to put it, he was ill-equip to explain anything. ”Normal. You blend in, properly, like you know these people and they know you.” All the other Weres had been on the fringes like him, barely fitting in and refusing to compromise what they were. Most of them were bitter and angry for it too. He ducked his head to hide what might have been a light blush underneath the stubble that was already darkening his cheeks. ”And you’re a girl.” Connor added gruffly, he met her questioning gaze at her second question and shook his head quickly. ”Don’t change; most werewolves aren’t very nice people. Territorial... Mean...” He trailed off, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable.
Connor was struck with the sudden, overwhelming desire to turn tail and run. He wasn’t used to such close scrutiny; he’d never been part of such an honest and open conversation for so long. People never paid attention to him, never wanted to talk to him, never looked at him the way Amelia was now. He swallowed thickly; unable to meet her gaze this time as she questioned him further still, asked him the one thing he definitely had no answer to. Connor took a step away from her, his shoulders drawing up in an almost imperceptible shrug.
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Amelia Pace
Werewolf (A)
Gryffindor 7th Year
The Pup Slut.
Posts: 189
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Post by Amelia Pace on Oct 8, 2009 21:22:27 GMT 1
Amelia had never thought about Werewolves as a race before. She didn’t like to associate herself with the creature more than necessary; so giving it such a label seemed foreign to her. She thought of it as a disease, an affliction that she couldn’t get rid of. Calling it a race meant she accepted it, and she didn’t. Far from it. The likelihood of her ever accepting that side of her were pretty much zero. She didn’t want to become the monster. She didn’t want a society. She wanted normalcy.
In a weird way, Amelia felt like he had just paid her some sort of backwards compliment; whether that was his intention or not, that is what it felt like. All she wanted was to be normal, live a normal life with normal friends, ”And that’s all I want. To be normal,” that’s why she surrounded herself in people. It was like the more people she had around her the further from the Were she felt. Then she laughed. He’d noticed that had he? Not completely hidden from the world that he didn’t no gender differences, ”That I hadn’t noticed,” she quipped laughing to herself. She probably shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help it. He’d probably take offence or something equally as stupid, but he made it so easy.
She was slightly taken aback by his declaration. Don’t change. She didn’t plan on it, she had kind of asked for that response. Like some kind of reassurance that she wasn’t like any other werewolf, because she didn’t want to be. ”I’ve got no territory to fight over, and being mean gets you nowhere,” she reasoned, a small smile on her face, ”You don’t seem like that either,” she admitted, but maybe it was just because he was trying to make a good impression, make her feel safe and pounce later. She didn’t want to push it, plus he seemed a little bit uncomfortable, withdrawing from her, so she didn’t want to take it too far. Just in case he flipped.
Amelia lowered her head slightly, trying to force him to look her in the eye. It was a trust thing, she liked it when people looked her in the eye. Had she known he never interacted with people she wouldn’t have bothered, but he’d approached her, he could leave her too. She didn’t follow when he stepped away from her, just looked him in the eyes and tried her best to read him, but she couldn’t. She rolled her eyes in response to his non-committal shrug. What did that mean? So she shrugged back at him pointedly and tried to urge an answer out of him with a slight encouraging shake of her head and upturning her bottom lip gently.
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Post by Connor Pine on Oct 9, 2009 2:10:55 GMT 1
If anybody understood Amelia’s desire to be normal it was Connor. He might not suffer the daily guilt of lying to his friends, as he had none, and he didn’t have to live every day so close to normality with a monthly affliction that snatched that chance from his glance like Amelia did. But accepting the part of himself that was a werewolf on a daily basis didn’t mean he didn’t watch people going about the normal business with envy. He saw mothers with their children and wished he had that for himself, even though he knew how fragile that love could be.
Connor gave a quick nod of understanding, adding another tentative, but fleeting smile. It was a novel feeling to have met somebody whose experiences he could relate to and it put him in a surprisingly good mood. In fact it was more important to him than he could possible hope to realise yet. Even though Ame had come closer to humans than Connor could ever hope to get he wasn’t jealous and all came back to the reason he wasn’t like all the other Weres he’d met; bitter and aggressive.
It was the fear, which tightened in his gut and refused to let him relax until after the full moon was over for another month. Not for his own safety, although he knew werewolves were feared by most, but for other people. What Connor dreaded more than anything was the possibility that he might hurt somebody when he was changed. That he might kill them, or worse, leave them scarred but alive and cursed for the rest of their lives to fear the moon.
He wasn’t going to open up and explain all that to Amelia, though. Even as she reached out to him by trying to make eye contact he was retreating into himself more and more. He wasn’t ready for a friend, wasn’t ready to share his experience with anybody, no matter how like him they might be. And so, even as she mimicked his shrug he half turned away from her, already determined to leave Hogsmeade a few days early, just in case. ”Sorry,” Connor mumbled gruffly over his shoulder and then he walked away, picking up the pace to a jog as soon as he reached the end of the alleyway to prevent her from following.
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Amelia Pace
Werewolf (A)
Gryffindor 7th Year
The Pup Slut.
Posts: 189
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Post by Amelia Pace on Oct 27, 2009 13:32:40 GMT 1
If there was one conclusion Amelia was going to come to after her encounter with Connor, it was that he was in dire need of some social skills and some friends. He didn’t seem all that vocal and his common courtesy went as far as the apology he threw her over his shoulder as he walked away from her. No hello. No goodbye. He didn’t even offer his name, she had to ask. It made Amelia wonder just how long Connor had been a werewolf. How long had he been on his own for? She assumed he was one his own. He didn’t seem to be all that socially inclined.
It became even more apparent as he disappeared without explanation; ”Connor?” she shouted after him. Not making much of a move to follow. She still didn’t know how he would react to her and she sure as hell wasn’t risking more of her own blood to find out, ”Connor!” she shouted again in vain attempt to get his attention, but he was gone.
Shaking her head, Amelia turned her attention back to what it was she had been doing previous to her run in with the other wolf; meeting August. ”Shit!” she had just seen the time, she was over thirty minutes late to meet him. If he was even still there. Connor went forgotten, if only for a moment, as she raced off towards the café she as supposed to already be sat in.
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