Astaria Main room

Dwight: Being a writer has its perks. Like being able to write about almost anything. But the downfall, if you did find something and couldn't think of how to start it, severe writer's block would ensue. Which is worst. Even in the wonderful and quiet town of Astaria. Dwight needed to find a way to get rid of this writer's block before it drove him insane with not being able to write this story. What it was about, he had no clue. No ideas would come to him. Every time he tried to write something, it would just trail off into nothingness, if that was even a word to begin with. What did he fucking know? He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to rid the headache that was quickly forming, not to mention the glasses were starting to irritate him. He needed a break from all this. Needed to clear his mind to get back on track to what was important. He lived in a small town, there wasn't much by the way of people. He lived here in Astaria most of his life... First, with his mother. She taught him the best things in life you work for. He missed her. It's only been a year since he had to bury her. And as every day went by, he continued to miss her, she was the only family he knew that he had. Now he had no one. She would know what to do if she was here now, with him. She would know what to do in this situation. What she would say. She would look at him with those brown eyes of hers and smile softly, saying "Dwight, you need appreciate the small things in life. Take the time to stop and smell the roses. Find something that makes you happy." He would always laugh at this, thinking she was joking. His mom made him happy. Made him feel safe, even as a adult. He supposed that made him a mama's boy, but that was fine with him. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts of all this. He pushed himself up from his desk in his little home towards the edge of town. He lived in that house since he was a little boy when they first moved here. Just a small brick house, surrounded by woods. He grabbed his jacket and shrugged it on, his gaze wandering around the small hallway by his front door. He already felt the stress of not having a idea slowly slip away.. Replaced by the memories of his home. Of his mom. He took a deep breath and open the door, escaping into the fall world of his little town for some other solace.

Devine: The ginger looked around at the town known as Astaria. It was in the further parts of Italy, and not a well common town. Most would go to Rome or other parts since they can't see the hidden gems. The Harley Davidson she was on rumbling beneath her petite frame. Classic ripped up jeans and a leather jacket against her back, along with biker boots, it was a pretty simple outfit really. Underneath the jacket was a nice form fitting short sleeve shirt, steel gray. Having her helmet in her hands while her feet held the bike down. Taking in a deep breath the women put on her protection and rode off towards the forest to enjoy the fall colors around. It was her favorite time of year. It made her painter juices flow with inspiration. Behind her was a few canvases that were hand stitched, along with paints in her bag along with her wallet, and some extra clothes. Being in this town was amazing but not having many friends to enjoy it wasn't the greatest. "Devine, you need to find friends and get out of your books!" The Italian librarian spoke and hit her head with a newspaper, while she read Beauty and the Beast for the hundred time. A smirk came over her cheeks before shaking her head softly to herself. Oh the love stories only fairy tales could bring but also the terror of being held as prisoner if that person didn't love a beast. Tortured that person too, starve them as well. Still was her favorite story even though it was much darker than the Disney studio cooked it up to be. After a little time she parked her bike and took off her helmet to place it on the vehicle. Hoping off of it and grabbed her bag along with her canvases. Running her digits from her strands so she knew where she was stepping through the woods. All the reds, yellows, and oranges everywhere. Oh it was so precious. After she found herself in front of a house, she blinked a few times to see that someone was standing in front of the door. Inside it more accurately. Someone actually lives in this old ass house? She thought it was abandoned years ago. It was a pretty house but man did she love it. The she wolf shifted on her heels to turn around, finding a new place to paint. She must have gotten carried away. Not saying a word to the male at the door, but continued walking to find a place to let her mind escape.

Dwight: Dwight almost missed the sight of the female that was walking towards him. He wasn't really looking for her or much of anything else when he exited his home. He was just going to go for a walk and clear his mind. Try to find something to inspire him to find something to write. There weren't a lot of people around so when he did catch sight of her, he stopped for a moment. Simply to stare. He was sure it was creepy, just looking at her but he couldn't help himself. She was beautiful. She had to be new here or she has been hiding somewhere. He smiled slightly, at what, he had no clue. He stood there as she walked towards him, then turned away when seeing him and walked off in the other direction. Did he offend her in some way that he was clueless about, or did he maybe surprise her? Whatever the reason was, he wanted to apologize to her for it, which was strange, normally he would brush it off and be on his way but in this particular case, he felt the need to. So, pocketing his keys and followed the woman towards whatever it was she was going. Granted, that probably didn't help his case but...

Devine: He didn't offend her or anything, was more along the lines that she had just walked too far. She didn't know that anyone lived there, if anything she felt as if she trespassed on the home. Though when he looked at her and had smile, it made the ginger blush brightly. After coming up on a river, ( https://wallpaperbro.com/img/352034.jpg ) she took a seat upon the ground near it. Trying to make a picture with her pointer and thumb, she soon found the perfect angle. Taking note that the male had followed her, though didn't really disturb her or anything. Placing her bag beside her left side, and pulled out her paints onto a little scrap piece of wood she had just grabbed along her walk, it was flat enough to use and smooth. Was like it was made for her to use for paints. Having a artist brush in her mouth as she mixed all the colors she needed to start painting. Once it was all finished, she grabbed the brush and started painting slowly. Being meticulous about how every line was made. The delicate words of gaelic soon came from her lips as she started singing, Tir Na Nog, like she was back in her homelands again. Ireland, home sweet home.

Dwight: He kept a distance from the woman, curious to see where she was going. Maybe she found a place that he could find some solace and clear his thoughts. And what she discovered, it was beautiful. Seeing the trees and all their vibrant color, the peaceful sound of the water that came from the river and the occasional red, orange, yellow leaf that floated down to the ground or into the river, floating away. He stepped off to the side a bit, looking over the area before pressing his back into the nearest tree and crossing his arms over his chest.<i>This... This is exactly what I was looking for... It's amazing.. Vibrant, alive. Yet at the same time quiet and peaceful....</i> He thought to himself as he continued to stand there, all thoughts of possibly apologizing into the female flying from his mind.  He just wanted to stay there. Though it was a slight shame that he didn't bring his notebook, which would have allowed him to randomly write his thoughts or just write in general until something made sense from all his madness.

Devine: Once she had started painting the women giggled to herself once she heard the males heartbeat beating fast. It was as if he found love for the first time. Sure it wasn't her, maybe the scenery but not her. Using telepathy to speak with him since he didn't really seem like the one to engage in conversation first. "Ya really should learn not to sneak up on lass's like I..." She teased letting her Irish accent spill out of her peach stained lips. "It is okay to come out, I have spare notepads and artist books if you like to join me." She offered while still keeping focus on her painting. Being as inviting as she possibly could. Even with him following her from his establishment. Maybe he wanted to talk to her or something or maybe he was just being a creepy stalker. Well it was too late to go back on her words. Hope it was a good choice. Not be some kind of hunter or something. Dear gods, she hopes its not a hunter of her kind. The least thing she wished to do was transform into her lycan side to run off with her painting and bag.

Dwight: Why did it feel like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar when she spoke to him.  He was so taken by surprise that he involuntarily took a step back, not being able to go anywhere because he was against a damn tree. He stepped back so fast that he smashed his shoulder into the tree and grunted in pain. He muttered under his breath and dropped to a knee, his other hand reaching around and gripping his other shoulder in pain. He growled, taking a deep breath and bracing himself as he gripped it, shoving it back into place. He bared his teeth and bowed his head, waiting for the pain to subside before he did anything else. She could have sensed his pain through the telepathy, not that he was seeking help. He could hand his own, but it hurt like hell. He slowly got to his feet and tried to rotate his shoulder before moving forward and kneeling down beside the woman. It wasn't the scenery that had captivated him initially. It was her. And he would be a fool to say that she wasn't beautiful, her fiery hair and pretty much everything about her. Though he knew nothing about her, it was still the same. His response to her, even though she was only a few feet away from him, was one of amusement. Something tells me that even if I was trying to sneak up on you, that it would be a mostly even match between us.  Though I will be more welcoming than most stalkers and possibly introduce myself.. He couldn't help but smile at her, his teasing getting the better of him. I'm sorry... he spoke again, not moving his mouth in the slightest. I have a dry and unwelcoming sense of humor sometimes. The name's Dwight. He held out his hand to her, waiting to see if she accepts it.

Devine: The moment she heard a growl and something muttered underneath his breath, her inner wolf ears perked up worried that something was wrong. Though when she felt the pain even through the telepathy, she gave a slight frown. She didn't mean to frighten him or startle him. She was about to get up to help him but soon saw him coming towards her, rolling his shoulder that had popped out of joint. Alas when he spoke to her through her mind in response, the she wolf giggled a little out loud at his humor. "Devin. It's a pleasure." She spoke softly. When he offered his hand out to her, she'd take it and shake it before letting go. "If it makes you feel better, had a stalker be friendly by grabbing my ass once. Had a slap to the face after but he did try to be friendly." Grabbing her paint brush once more, she'd start painting again but kept talking to him through his mind. "So take a notepad and jog what thoughts you have, you seem like the writer type." It was true, he did seem like the writer type. Even if he wasn't a writer, he did have the looks for it. Actually rather attractive looks. 'I'd love to touch him..' Her inner wolf growled out, she shook her head and smacked the wolf within her. 'Shut up, you damn mutt.' She spoke to her wolf. Being careful that he didn't hear this in his mind in case he was a lycan as well. Quietly taking in his scent, she raised a brow. What was he?

Dwight: He took a seat next to her and reached for a notebook that was in her bag before setting against the side of a fallen down log that was only a few centimeters away from her. He thought it was funny, her thinking that he was the writing type. But he couldn't disagree with her there. He felt the glasses gave it away. Well, it shows that that stalker had no class. I would have been way more smooth about it. IF i was a creepy stalker anyways. But I am far from a creepy stalker, and I still think i have some smooth moves. For a writer anyways. His moves weren't smooth. They were more like chivalry acts. He learned from the best authors, many of them classics. Dickins, Austin, Tolstoy, Fitzgerald, Hemingway., Twain.. The list went on. There was more than just chivalry from those authors. It taught about life, the meaning of life, the way the world works, those that opposed it.. It fascinated him all so much. He was so lost in his head... it was like a personal playground for him sometimes. His thoughts, stories. Everything.  He leaned back against the log and looked around the scenery. It was just breath-taking. He looked over the female, studying her with his hazel eyes. There was something different about her... He couldn't think of what.. But the air around her... it shimmered and moved with her like it always did with his mother.. But his mother was a wolf of some kind... He wasn't sure exactly what.. But... She had the same way about her.. And yet, he didn't find himself scared of her... His mother also told him that he was one as well. And he accepted that.