Cotton Blossom

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Summer Rain, Jun 3, 2013.

  1. [​IMG]

    Evangeline ran her comb through her long golden locks, purposely avoiding the gaze of the man behind her. She thought that she would have been used to Timothy’s eyes, being engaged for nearly two months now, but his gaze was both unsettling and uncomfortable.
    Yes, he was a kind man – bought her whatever she pleased, and never once forced himself onto her. Having such a large dowry, paid in full and in cash by her father, part of her had expected to be with a man that was twice her age and ten times as cruel.
    The only issue the young lady had with her husband-to-be was his fierce protectiveness of her; no matter where she went, he had to be near. She supposed it had something to do with his father’s history and thus his inability to trust other men, but she never asked. Eva merely hoped that Tim’s hawk-like stare would subside when they finally wed. With a ring on her finger, she knew he’d have the ultimate hold on the young lady.

    “You look beautiful, darling,” Timothy said as she pushed her elbow-length curls over her shoulder. Her father had been a wealthy cotton farmer, and thus she’d not engaged in any of the fashions of the time. Eva merely wore simple dresses with few petticoats, a loosely bound corset, and her hair down about her shoulders. She knew it bothered Tim deeply, but she was a stubborn woman.
    Eva felt his lips against her ear and she shivered a bit. Despite knowing Tim since she was just a small girl, she wasn’t used to him being so close and so affectionate. He had yet to even kiss her, for Heaven’s sake!

    “Don’t look to beautiful now,” he grinned, kissing her lobe and then withdrawing. Now he began to play with her hair. “You know my half brother will be arriving soon, and I do not want the savage to get the wrong idea about you.”
     
    #1 Summer Rain, Jun 3, 2013
    Last edited: Jun 3, 2013
  2. Wesinaco Tapaha​
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    Flames. As red as a summer sunset and as hot as the core of the earth. These crackling flames are unforgiving in their onslaught. Nothing, not even all of his attempts at killing the beast, would lessen these hungry flames. Wesinaco, called Wes by his family, lives far from their estate along the lazy river cutting through the Great Plains. Hiding away near the Rocky Mountains, Wesinaco adored his hand built log cabin with just enough space for him and his loyal companion. Never being accepted in his family, Wes adores the company of the outdoor lifestyle, living off of the land and not worrying about money or riches. He considers himself lucky that his father took him in with open arms instead of throwing him out into the jaws of the hungry world. If it weren't for his father, Wes wouldn't be here.

    The cart, summoned to the charred remains of his house by his step mother, Wes sees no impending doom if he stays with his family for a few months. Just enough time for him to travel back and forth from the mountains to the valley where his family lives and repair his once comfortable cabin. Well, it was rotting anyway... Wes thinks to himself, looking down at his nearly shaking hands, remembering waking up to the blaze of the fire. From what he can assume, a log had rolled out of the fireplace and onto the wooden floor, igniting his home. Frowning, Wes takes no time in looking up to the sky and feeling the wind rush by his braided brown hair. He knows that staying with his family will not be easy, looking down to his skinned clothes, he knows that they'll never accept who he is. For his hair will be made fun of along with his mud brick skin, compliments from his mother.

    Luckily for him, Wesinaco is greeted with charm from the carriage driver. Even though the servant may resist asking him many questions, Wes seems to enjoy his company. The two talk about the landscape for it seems like the only thing they both have in common. The tall black haired man with his long coat and topper hat with its silk black band. As they grow closer to his family estate, the conversation draws thinner and thinner, the driver even pretending not to hear half of what Wesinaco tells him or asks him. Anything about the family, he shrugs and tells the northern cheyenne man that he is in no position to divulge such information on his half brothers' orders.
     
    #2 Vacyr, Jun 3, 2013
    Last edited: Jul 24, 2013
  3. The warm wind brushed through the young woman's hair, Mother Nature’s fingers, as Eva sat on the front porch of their home. Two of the brothers, Timothy and his twin, Michael, still resided in the modest home that their father had built many years ago and raised his family in. Their mother, of course, an older woman with greying hair and many wrinkles, also lived here. Timothy had promised to begin constructing a home for their family with her dowry money, but the young lady knew that he was most likely to gamble it away.
    She was however content in the nicely made two story building. She mostly enjoyed the company of Michael’s wife, Bethany, a few years her senior but still childlike in spirit. Eva and Bethany were partial to sitting on the front porch together, and today they did just that, waiting with their families for the arrival of their half Indian brother-in-law.
    Eva had never met Wes, but had heard much of him from her husband and his other siblings. It was clear they were disgruntled about his arrival at their home, thinking he would steal from them or poison their farm animals. Because Eva had never met him she held no such judgements, and Bethany didn’t seem to think too poorly of him, either.

    When the carriage was seen coming down the long winding road, Tim approached his wife-to-be. He leaned down and cupped her rosy cheeks in his palms, staring into her sky blue eyes. Eva bit her lip.
    “I do not want you to get hurt,” he murmured, stroking her cheekbone, “Wes is not a man to befriend, and I want you to stay away from him, alright?”

    Eva merely nodded her head. By that time the carriage had arrived, and the three brothers stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the porch, almost like a barrier. Timothy’s third brother’s wife, Melinda, stood up and placed her hands on the railing, watching as the Cheyenne made his way out of the carriage. The air was thick with tension, and Eva’s shoulders visibly straightened.
     
  4. Arathi​
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    Living in the house as a boy, Wes now looks upon the rotting boards that once stood tall. Not wishing to exit the carriage, he knows that it will only end in some sort of conflict or harsh words. Never the less, he feels the beating heart of the bear guide him, giving him the courage he needs to push open the door and step out into this strange new world. Well, it's not that new for the house is still standing as well as his half brothers, tall, strong, and white. His face hardens for a moment when his wild green eyes meet his brothers'. He should never forget their wives kindness to him but he knows that while they are in the presence of their husbands, Bethany as well as Melinda will remain steadfast and silent as expected. Even though Wes may dislike this, he is in no position to change the matters.

    The women may sneak a smile in his direction while their husbands create this barrier but Wes' face doesn't change. It's a pondering gaze as well as one that seems to have a vast knowledge. They may try and fool him with smiles and handshakes, even a clasp on the shoulder, but he knows it's all a facade. Lies. The only man who seemed to actually care had been father. Having no luggage with him, Wes lets out a sharp whistle and the big short haired Plains Dog comes bounding out of the carriage. At least Wes has the company of his gray and white companion for he never brought Arathi with him. Loyal and always by his side, Wes knows that if anything were to happen, his gray eyed beast would strike only on his command.

    Not even seeing Eva behind his three brothers, Wes bows low to Timothy first, knowing he would be reprimanded if he didn't. The two other brothers are next. "I come to you with nothing and you are kind to take me in. It will be a kindness that I shall never forget and shall repay with whatever I can." Glancing back towards the carriage, Arathi patters up to his side and sits at his feet. Wes then looks to Melinda for she is the closest to him and a warm smile comes to his lips. "I am sure that everyone is well? Being out in the mountains where the air is fresh and the river flows freely, it's nearly impossible for me to hear the events of this rustic home. I have missed living here." Patting Arathi, Wes doesn't even bother to look past his brothers, knowing someone is behind for he can feel more sets of eyes upon him than counted for. "Brothers, I will be delighted to hunt today and bring you back a dinner, my gratitude for answering my call. It's a shame that my house has not lived as long as father's."
     
    #4 Vacyr, Jun 3, 2013
    Last edited: Jun 3, 2013
  5. Dark green eyes and long brown hair about his shoulders, and skin the colour of smooth caramel. Eva was completely mesmerized by the appearance of the Cheyenne man. She had encountered a few Natives when her father had done business with their people, but none of them had been as tall and dark as the one before her. In the faint sunlight the brother had a sharply angled jaw and just as pointed nose, making him look like a true Cheyenne. It was hard to believe that he had any whit blood running through his veins, or that he was even remotely related to the three dirty blond haired men before him.

    The three brothers crossed their broad chests and for a moment, it was hard to tell one from the other. Only the faint streaking of white in John, the oldest of them, set him distinctly apart.

    Timothy was the first to speak and his voice was nearly a sneer. His attitude made it even more difficult to believe that they were brothers. The fire in Tim's eyes was almost more menacing than the flames that Wes had battled just days before.
    "You'll do no such hunting," he muttered, taking a few steps forward. Eva took careful notice of the dog at the Cheyenne's feet, looking more like a wild wolf than a domesticated pet.

    Timothy removed his arms from across his chest but his fists remained balled at his sides, "the only reason you are staying here is because of our fathers will that we must care for you. You are lucky our mother loved him so dearly, even after the affair, but she is the only one that insists we honour it. There is a room upstairs for you."

    The three of them soon turned to walk into the house, and with that the ladies entered as well. Eva could not remove her eyes from the man; he was impossibly tall and broad across the shoulders, and his bronzed skin glimmered in the sunlight. She looked hastily away when her fiancé caught her gaze on him, though, and soon she too stole into the house.
    She tugged on Timothy's arm once they were in the main sitting room, "that man is your brother?"
    "Half," he sneered, angry they shared even a drop of blood, "my father had an affair with his mother, a full Cheyenne that knew little English. He's just as much as a savage as a full breed would be, and I'm ashamed they he will be living here." He took her wrist. "You stay away from him, Evangeline. He's a wild animal that can attack at any time. I've seen him angry, and I don't want you in his path when he realizes he can't live like he did out there while he is with us."
     
  6. His heart plummets in his chest when he hears Tim speak. Of course they wouldn't want me hunting. Comes his own private thoughts. "As you wish, brother." His words, no matter how cruel he wishes them to sound, come out humbly. After all, they are giving him shelter and he should be thankful. "But if I may ask," he had always been one to poke his nose in other people's business, "Why would you not grant me the honor of hunting?" taking his axe, the one his mother had taught him to make from twine and a sharpened stone. It had rested at his hip, a loop easily attaching it to him. Arathi follows him as he makes his way up the few steps towards the, in his eyes, grand oak door leading into the house. It seemed so large and taunting when he was younger but now its just as big as any of the ones he has seen.

    When Tim starts to talk about the room upstairs, Wes nods his head once, understanding his place. "Of course, I will wash up for I still am covered in sweat from the ride and soot from the flames." Indeed his face was more black and speckled with dirt or grime. But the procession of his so called family had already made their way into the home. Wes knows that he will have to change out of his breechcloths with leather leggings. All good things must come to an end. They'll expect him to wash up, re-braid his hair properly for its caught in a wispy mess, wash his face, clean the dirt from his fingernails and worst of all, put on a suit. Lunch will be served soon and they'll require him to eat with them. This will go on for a few days until they tire of his company. From there, he will just be required to eat his meals along with the servants.

    A solid hour passes and Wes takes a look at the man staring back at him. Indeed he does not like what he sees but at least they will approve. His long hair is combed back and knotted into a tight braid. Tim will bring up, as he always does, the fact that Wes should just cut the damn thing off and be done with the hassle. But his Cheyenne roots would allow no such monstrosity. His mother, like him, had long braids and he feels that they honor her and remind him constantly of her when she is not able to be around. Her and her husband, a man he never met, are constintaly on the move, chasing after the buffalo on the plains. Wild and free. It's what Wes craves but he knows, for now, he must act "civilized".

    "Come on boy," he calls Arathi to his side, the young pup pitter pattering down the steps to wherever their voices come from. Arathi's head comes below Wes' hip, his arm not strained in the least when he pets the wolf-like animal's triangular shaped head with a large snout. They'll see him as a creature, a horror and a beast. No matter what, Wes won't have him leave or be sent away. Try as they might, these folk cannot change his steadfast way for he is like a rock against the current.
     
  7. Because they were not excessively wealthy, the women were meant to make the lunch spread and set the table. Growing up on a farm, Eva had always cooked and thus did not mind the hassle. She danced about the kitchen, clearly much younger than the other two women, singing softly to herself as she flitted about. They put together a warm soup and even warmed some bread in the wood stove that their husbands had purchased a few years back, a wedding gift to Bethany on her marriage date.
    They joked around like young girls, even gossiped a bit. It seemed as though the other wives were rather fond of Wes, even if they could not show their sibling-like affection for him in front of their husbands. He was a kind man, apparently, so different from the men they knew but almost like a breath of fresh air. Melinda was the one to speak the most highly of him, but it made logical sense; she had married John over ten years ago, known him since she was twelve, and thus, had known the Cheyenne before he had moved out into the mountains.

    "I remember when he was just as big as I was!" she grinned as she stirred the bubbling put of chicken broth and vegetables, "the next time I saw him, on my wedding day, he was nearly a foot taller than I! He grew like a little bean sprout, but always managed to stay the same Native boy I knew." Melinda spoke so fondly, and Eva wondered why her fiance hated Wes so. What it merely his skin colour?

    Carrying a small stack of plates to set the table in the adjacent room, Eva hummed a soft tune to herself, a lullaby from her mother she knew from her childhood. She was always so caught up her in own little world, and Timothy often scolded her for it.
    She was never very good at keeping herself from daydreaming, though, and Eva allowed her thoughts to drift as she passed the main staircase. Despite her husband's strict warning, she was intrigued by their new house guest. She wondered if he was as pleasant as Melinda had mentioned.

    Evangeline was so caught up in her thoughts that she had not realized that a creature, no higher than her knees, had collided into her legs. She squeaked, cried out, and then suddenly in a flurry of petticoats and skirts, went tumbling to the ground. She could hear the animal whimpering, just barely over the sound of the porcelain dishes, an early wedding gift from her aunt, shattering nearby. Eva blinked a few times, legs folded underneath her, and that wolf-like dog scurrying around in front of her.
     
  8. Arathi had always been known for his freedom around Wes. For the most part, the Indian didn't mind the pup for he is still growing and his manners, for the most part, still need polishing. When the pup started to dart down the staircase, Wes just looked over the banister, not bothering to call him back to his side. It's been so long since he has walked through these halls. His step mother's paintings are still on the walls of the valley, the yard, and the family. In none of these acrylic portraits is Wes seen. Along the long table, littered with a crocheted cloth, candle holders and some family photographs is where Wes stops. Picking up one by one, he doesn't expect to see himself. Instead he sees John, Michael and Tim. All happy, carefree and white.

    It may have angered Wes in the past for being different. Whenever they went to town, he would be the one carrying the luggage or groceries. Teated more like a servant once his father passed away, he would be forced to clean the house, set up their meals or even cook for them. Thinking it was more of a woman's forte, Wes befriended Melinda as soon as he could. In his younger years, if he remembers correctly, picking up a picture of her and John on their wedding day, he had a crush on her. Now he knows his place though, not wishing to ruin his brother's marriage for those old feelings and thoughts soon became ones of friendship and trust. Bethany, on the other hand, knows him out of acquaintance and not a friendship.

    The first time they met was at her wedding and try as he might to be polite, Wes had to work hard to gain any sort of momentum with her. There is no way that he could sit down and have a conversation with his brothers so he took the next best option, befriending their wives. In his eyes, they are better company. Yes, they gossip and swoon but at times he could enjoy sitting with them and hearing what they have to say. It seems that all women have their foot in the door to the going's on of town. Did lady Hapburn really marry a naval officer? Is there a scandal in George Pettero's banking business? It's all interesting to him and welcome for discussion.

    Springing into action at the sound of the high pitched squeak, Wes turns around and rushes over to Eva. "Arathi!" He scolds, his voice as loud as thunder, "Bad dog," his accent thick with his indian roots. "Now get upstairs before--" but he loses his gusto once he sees her sprawled on the floor. Kneeling down before the cracked porcelain, the strong man easily slips his arm around her back, lifting her from the wreckage. "Are you alright? I can only apologize for Arathi, he is not used to being in such a grand house. Being out in the mountains, he is free to run around freely without tripping folk. Here, he is quite... restrained." Feeling as though he is talking about himself, the Cheyenne man lets go of Eva once she finds her footing.

    "I don't believe we have met. Who are you?" Taking a step back for good measure, the smell of fire still fresh on his skin and in his hair. Never before had he seen her, a spark of curiosity once again covering his gaze. His green eyes seem to stick to her as if they were doused in fresh honey.
     
  9. It took the young woman a few moments to gather her thoughts and realize what had happened. She certainly couldn't blame the dog, nor she was upset that the porcelain had been shattered. To be honest she didn't really enjoy the fancy dishes, anyways... they were unnecessarily delicate and expensive, and to be frank, she thought them ugly as well. The last thing she wanted to be staring at when she finished her meal were thorny vines and berries around the edges of the dish.

    She was a bit startled when a fair of masculine hands reached out and pulled her to stand. Evangeline blinked a few times before realizing that it was the tall Cheyenne man, a good foot taller than her, his jaw hard and angular as he spoke. Eva bit her lip and began to dust the tiny shard of broken china from her skirt.
    "Oh, it was my fault!" she gushed as she took to the sweet little dog, now standing at his owner's side. Despite looking more like a wolf than a dog, he was well behaved, and she certainly could not be angry with such a beautiful creature. Eva immediately crouched down and beckoned the pet forward. She was of course wary of the shards of glass, but smiled when the dog, Arathi, finally approached. She scratched him gingerly behind the ears, recalling the golden dog she had when she was growing up. Sadie had slept by Eva's bed every night for eight years; Eva smiled as she continued to stroke Arathi's soft fur. He smelled a bit like smoke, and she frowned, wondering if he had been caught in the blaze as well.

    Upon realizing that she had been asked to identify herself, Eva straightened and blushed. She felt poorly that she hadn't introduced herself earlier, but Tim hadn't allowed her anywhere near his half brother. She curtsied politely, just slightly, with a smile.
    "Evangeline," she murmured, cheeks still a bit pink with embarrassment, "but Eva is just fine. I am your brother, Tim's, fiance. It's wonderful to meet-"
    She barely could finish her sentence when the brothers came rushing in, faces red and shoulders strong. When Timothy noticed his new bride standing so close to his 'savage' of a sibling, amongst shards of broken porcelain, he immediately gripped her arm and pulled her away. The porcelain crunched underneath her feet and Eva hastily shook her husband-to-be off of her.
    "It was my fault!" she murmured, blue eyes wide, "I was not looking where I was going..."
     
  10. Glancing down to the rubble of such bright blue and white plates, Wes frowns. Unbeknownst to him that Eva disliked the dishes, he feels guilty for breaking them. Even if Arathi is just being himself. His hands, as large and steady as they are, curl around the fabric of her dress. Soft and no doubt in his mind about their price, he is quick to let go as to not let it wrinkle. Showing very little emotion is what he does best for his face and lips may be stone faced, his eyes are indeed a window into his emotions. They shower her with compliments for her has evidence of being tanned as his is. Not noticing much about her, his eyes latch onto her blue ones. Reminding him of the calm and steady river that twists around his once cabin, Wesinaco has no choice but to look away.

    "Evangeline." He repeats as if to have the name sink into his mind. "It's a very suitable name for such a woman. Are you new to this establishment?" Catching a look come from her, he can only assume that this house still frightens her. It took him years to know every corner but, of course, being so young, the house seemed so grand. Now that he looks around, he only sees an averagely sized house. Still, it's bigger than his cabin by the mountains. "And please," he waves his hands around her as if he were placing a spell upon her. "I will not accept your apology because there is no need. Are you sure you're alright?" Noticing her dazed expression pass over her rosy cheeks, he can't help but be caught again in her eyes. They'll haunt his dreams, he is sure of it.

    Hearing a door slam open and an inquiry being made, Wes takes yet another step away from her. Immediately dropping to the ground, he starts to pick up the shattered bits of plate. "Brothers, brothers, it's fine. Arathi is as free as the wind, letting whatever smell and environment take him where he pleases. The pup didn't mean any harm." he explains in his masculine tone, forcing his words upon men who don't wish to listen. Seeing Timothy wrap his arm around Eva's waist, Wes realizes that he never introduced himself. Perhaps even kiss her hand like any gentleman would for he needs more allies in this palace of fiends. Words that are said to him are muffled, his eyes still upon Eva. Shaking his head, John was now speaking to him about getting the pieces cleaned up. Obliging, Wes is careful not to cut his fingers, ordering Arathi away so no shards get caught in his paws. Yet again, he is only a servant.
     
  11. Timothy was quick to sweep his bride-to-be away from the reckage, but her brow remains knitted in the center. She already dislikes the way that her fiance and his siblings treat the man; though she does not know him well, he seemed kind and gentle. She steals a glance back as he began to clean up the shards of broken porcelain. Of course, however, Tim quickly took her away from it though and into the library, which shelves of books spanned the room from floor to ceiling. He had told her fondly that his father had spent many hours here, reading thick novels on various subjects. She never had the opportunity to meet him, but he seemed like a good, kind man.

    "Are you alright?" Tim asked, running a gentle hand along her sides, inspecting her for damage.
    Other than being a little dizzy, the young woman was completely fine. She also went guilty that Wes has been left to clean up the reckage; after all, it had been mainly her fault.
    She grabbed his wrists and looked straight at his eyes, "I'm fine, honey. It's alright. It was really my fault... I wasn't watching... and the dog..."

    Tim's eyes narrowed and he let go of her, crossing his arms. She could see in the tautness of his jaw muscle that he was angry and frustrated. "That dog..." he mumbled. Soon enough he wrapped an arm around her waist and brought her back out into the main foyer. Wes was no alone, but Eva could hear the other brothers speaking idly in the next room.
    Immediately Evangeline rushed forward, skirts waving slightly, and began to help the Cheyenne clean up the mess. Tim protested heavily from behind her, but soon went after the dog. He grabbed the mutt by the collar of his fur and muttered, "stupid animal needs to go outside!"
    "Tim!" Eva protested immediately, standing up and trying to make him let go of the poor creature, "it was my fault, I told you! Relax!"
     
  12. Arathi, not liking the smell of Tim as he comes near, thinks about running. The small pup could easily bound between his legs and race up the steps but instead, he looks to his master. "ve-haahetano, Azule," Wes quickly orders, knowing that the dog wishes to rip Timothy to shreds but he cannot allow such an event to occur. Staring back to the china on the ground, he places another half of a plate on the pile. For the life of him, he wont look up, hearing his companion whimper and growl. Sadness for being pulled away from his master and anger from the poor handling. No matter what Eva might try to say, Timothy won't listen to her. Moving to the porch, he doesn't care one bit as he throws Arathi down and slams the door behind him.

    "He won't listen to you, you know." Wes informs Eva quietly underneath his breath as the room starts to clear. John and Michael are openly commenting on how drab it is, having a wild animal in the house. All that creature will do is track dirt, fleas, and disease into the house. Wes tries not to listen to them, talking to Eva instead. "Timothy has always had a clear conscience. To his standards." remembering his youth, Wes sighs, picking up more china at a slow pace. He is careful and accurate, aware on how sharp and easy it is to make ones self bleed. "Once he has a thought in his head, it's nearly impossible to change him." Pausing, he looks back up at Eva, "Tell me, Evangeline, how did you come to be stuck in this house with my brother? Do you enjoy it here?" No matter what, Tim, Michael and John will always be family to him and he knows he must respect that bloodline. No matter if his own blood is "tainted" to their standards.

    The roaring voices in the kitchen make Wes smile. There is no doubt in his mind that the two women there are enjoying themselves thoroughly. Whether it's cooking, cleaning, gossiping or just relaxing, those two really know how to make a ball out of any ordinary day. It's something that Wes admires about them greatly. He, on the other hand, takes everything in a clean cut way. He hardly has time to tickle his imagination for he is a practical man with a very mathematical mind. Facts, numbers, and reality is what he requires to live life. In a way, he finds it hard to believe they're real at times with the stories they tell. He has his spiritual side but that too is nothing more than what he has been taught by his mother and what he is required to do. Following the rules is what he does best.
     
  13. Despite Timothy's protesting Eva continued to hp the man clean up the mess. She had felt poorly that she had not only caused it but now his brothers were talking illy of the Native man. They already did not seem very find of him and he young woman certainly did not want to add to that. She knew that she was already crossing boundaries by speaking with him, but she had been taught to be kind and helpful, not cruel and racist.

    "I do not mind it here," she nodded her head slowly, looking around to make sure that none of the men could see them conversing.
    Eva too heard the other women in the kitchen, and whole hearted of wished for life like that when she was married. Unfortunately it seemed as though she had gotten the shortest straw. Timothy was the cruelest and most unforgiving of the brothers.

    "Yes Tim can be difficult at times, but he provides for me well," she told Wes as she put a few pieces of the procelain in a little pouch she had made with her dress. "My father also sought a high dowry, and thus only few families could afford to bring me into their homes. Your brother was the first, so here I am." She merely shrugged and continued to collect the broken dishes. She thought nothing of the life ahead of her, merely thought she was lucky to get into a week established family.
     
  14. One of the plates cracked but did not break, the vines and berries still very much attached. It would be a testament to her aunt's kindness, one bowl surviving in the other clutter. Dumping the shards in it, he takes a moment to wipe his hands on his pants, not caring what they're made of. She persists to surprise him for she doesn't listen to Tim's warnings about staying away. Sure, Wes doesn't know what his brother has said but he can only assume by the way he stomped out of the room that words have been said. Guidelines for her have been placed and she shouldn't cross the barrier. An urge comes through his body to touch her hand. It would be so easy and so quick. Yet, he resists, standing so that they may bring the shattered bits into the kitchen to be thrown away.

    His words, answers and more questions to what she is speaking of, claw their way into his throat. Sadly, not a word is uttered between them once her whispers fade out. Not wanting to take the risk, Wes gracefully looks around before looking back at her elegance. She had followed him to the kitchen door but before he opened it, the Indian leans in close to her ear. This time, he remembers to drop his own name into the conversation for he knows carrying on a forbidden jig such as this one ought to have some politeness. He knows hers, she should know his. "Wesinaco." His green eyes flickering back to her blue ones as he pulls away from her ear. The heat from her face leaves his own. Blinking, he finds his own head spinning with her scent, pushing the door to the kitchen open and holding it for her.

    Melinda is the first to chide them for breaking the fine china. "It's not every single day that you obtain such fine riches from your aunt, my dear. She will be most displeased to hear that they have been broken already." Turning to Wes, her brow raises before rushing over with a wooden spoon wet with broth and smacks him lovingly on the arm. "And you!" She scolds loud enough for the rest of the men to hear in the other room, "How dare you!" is all she says, not having a clue what happened out there. A silent brow raises but she pushes her black hair from her eyes. "You ought to know better, Wes." drawing in close to him, she kisses his cheek, whispering to his ear only how happy she is to see him again. Evidence of this is the smile crossing over his face before he whispers back to her.

    "Will you two stop all that..." Calls Bethany, in a very lighthearted tone, "You'll have the evening to gossip and catch up. Help me finish our lunch. Wes, if I dare say so, you've cleaned up rather well." Being blunt, she turns back to the stove and checks the fire. Indeed, she is not as fruitful in her words as Melinda. Unlike her companion here, Melinda doesn't care if her husband finds out she has been talking to Wes for she has him on quite a tight leash when they're alone. She may take being a lady whilst other eyes are upon her but once the doors are shut and they're in private, oh he is in for some trouble.
     
  15. Evangeline listened as the two other wives bantered with Wes. It was quite apparent that they thought very highly of him; she had heard about him even before he had arrived. She enjoyed the relationship that the women had with him, and was glad that such a kind man had someone on his side. Eva merely wished that the brothers would do the same. She didn’t know what he did to deserve this treatment – and in all honesty, she doubted he had done anything at all.

    The young woman was acutely aware of how close Wes seemed to be getting to her. The soft whispers in her ear, the man his hand nearly brushed hers on occasion. She was amazed that it did not frighten her, especially after the warnings from her fiancé.
    Instead, Evangeline found it rather intriguing. Wes had an air of mystery about him, an interesting darkness and silence about him. She wondered what he thought beyond those deep green eyes, how he felt about the new lady in the house.

    It was not long before Tim re-entered the kitchen, his face red with anger. Eva immediately cowered to the side, and Melinda and Bethany turned their attention back to their cooking. Despite how much they enjoyed Wes’s company, they knew better than to intervene, especially when Timothy had business to attend to.

    “I knew better than to let you into my house!” he bellowed, raising a fist, though not making an attempt to move it. His jaw was tight and Eva reached out to touch him, hoping her presence would calm him. Timothy always disliked acting rough and aggressive around her, even if it happened quite often. The man quickly brushed her off however, slapping her hand away abruptly. Tim looked back to Wes, “first you invade my home, and then you attack my own wife with that mutt of yours?! I knew you were a monster, and I knew I shouldn’t let you back into our home!”
     
  16. Folding his arms across one another, that same darkness comes back into Wes' features. His eyes taunt his older brother as he flies about in his rage. Not once does Wes step out of line though, not once does he even think about flinching at the shaking fist in his face. This tall and able bodied Native has lived in the forest and has lived off of the land. All sorts of animals have come and tried to claim his house as their own, wolves, elk, even a stray buffalo. But now this creature, Timothy, is threatening, or at least attempting, him into leaving. Instead of his usual frowning face, Wes actually sneaks a smirk onto his lips. He has dealt with worse, his chin raising as his feet make no endeavor to move.

    In simple words, speaking slowly and with a common grace, Wes finally answers once Tim stops shaking his fist. "Into your house? My dear brother, this house belongs to Mother Katherine," his step mother who he is quite fond of but will never admit it, "and not you. Father may be dead in the ground, buried six feet under in our own backyard, but this house is my right just as much as yours." Oh how Wes knew that would anger his brother, his already blazing eyes showing his true malice. But Wes has conquered greater flames. Speaking over anything that Tim has to say, Wes, for once, stands his ground. Perhaps it's Eva's presence making him act so irrationally.

    "I have no invaded anything for I carry no luggage but the skins upstairs and my axe." Shaking his head, Wes attempts to make his way out of the kitchen. Before he leaves though, leaving the door half open, he turns around. Staring from Timothy to Eva, he outstretches a hand in her direction. His fingers are limp, merely drawing his brother's attention towards his wife. "Does she look injured brother? I see no blood. No guts. Her heartbeat is as fair as mine and her compassion far greater than yours." With that, Wes walks through the main foyer and out the front door through the joining room. Once outside, he calls for Arathi to join him, the dog's ears perking at the sound of his master's whistle. Thankfully, he is alright and Wes bends down to bring him into a loving embrace. Slowly, he tells Arathi that he is a good boy and he will always love how crazy he is.
     
  17. Tim flew into a rage for the rest of the day, and the entire family could hear him yelling and swearing as night began to descend upon the house. Evangeline was just glad that until their marriage night, they would share a room. For privacy and modesty's sake, the young woman was at the very opposite end of the long hallway from him. In the past two months she had made the room as homely as she could; a few little vases of flowers on the surfaces, a nice floral blanket over the bed. It still wasn't home for her, but Eva doubted she would ever feel completely comfortable in Timothy's house. She could only hope that when they had a family and a house of their own, she wouldn't feel so out of place.

    Despite her distance from his room, Eva could still hear Timothy yelling. John had joined him in his room, and it sounded as though they were drinking. Eva had always hated Tim when he drank, and on more than one occasion he had gone overboard. She heard cussing, as well as her and Wes's name in the mixture.
    The young woman quickly changed into a simple floral dress, with draping lace around the arm cuffs. She also collected her hair into a soft bun at the base of her neck.

    It didn't take the young lady long to find Wes. Because of roots, she had expected to still find him outside. He stand in the same spot as before, his loyal dog beside him. Eva grinned when the creature saw her, and came bounding from his master's side. She immediately crouched down to pet him in between the ears. Despite causing the ruckus earlier, Eva really didn't mind the dog; she had always loved animals, even as a girl.
    "Beautiful, isn't it?" she said, gesturing to the sunset, "it's even more beautiful on my father's farm, a little farther west. The colours are nearly like a painting!"
     
  18. Sitting through dinner that night was a nightmare for no matter what civilized conversation Wes attempted to complete with his brother's, nothing came of it. John, Michael and especially Timothy, did all they could to resist having the conversation blossom. After leaving the dinner table early, Wes took the scraps of the leftover chicken out for Arathi to nibble on an old and cracked plate. Letting his thoughts run free, the man finds a cigar, neatly placed there by him earlier in the evening, in his dinner coat pocket. Having to dress up like this makes him feel very foolish but after those harsh words were spilled in the kitchen, Wes owes it to his brother to at least act civilized. Tim will always think him a savage man and there is nothing Wes can do to persuade his brother otherwise. If he obtains any money, Tim will accuse him of stealing it. If he attempts anything heroic, Tim or his brothers will convince themselves that he was just at the right place at the right time.

    Looking down at the hand rolled cigar in his hands, Wes thinks about throwing it away. The smell was always one that he adored for his father smoked them often. Hearing the door creak open, his green eyes turn to see who has entered his small domain. When he confirms that it's only Eva, Arathi responding in a apologetic fit, quickly running over and sitting right at her feet, waiting to be pet, Wes' body loosens up. All throughout dinner, his shoulders had been pulled back too far, his chest pushed out awkwardly but it was all his attempt of acting civil. Looking back towards the sunset, the pink and purple of the clouds and sky collide, a hint of orange sprinkling its way near the setting sun. "Yes, it's one of the things I love about this world. You know, in the mountains, you're closer to the sunset and above everything else - able to see miles upon miles in another perspective." Glancing to her, he offers her the cigar, "If you smoke." smiling, he asks quickly afterwards, "Do you like crafts such as painting?"
     
  19. Merely twenty years old, Eva had never been able to go up into the mountains and see the wonders that Wes spoke of. Her father had not been the most successful farmer and as a result, it was rare that the young woman and her mother traveled. Eva rarely minded it though; she enjoyed the company of her parents and the little haven they had made for her on their cotton farm. She had not even her own bedroom in their small home, but it had always been home to her. Not that she thought of them, her heart ached dearly; it had been almost three weeks since her father had wrote, and Eva suspected that her new husband was merely holding the letters from her. In his opinion the dowry had been paid, and now she belonged to him.

    Eva shook her head to the cigar and went to sit on the back porch step. The bottom of her dress would get dirty but she didn't mind much; it wasn't very often that she had came out here, mainly because Timothy watched her like a hawk.
    "No," she murmured, "my family could never afford the supplies for such hobbies. I think it would be wonderful, though, to capture the beauty of a sunset and be able to look at it, even in the dead of night or the middle of the day."
    She giggled girlishly as Arathi approached her again and nestled against the side of her skirt, which puffed out around her. Though she acted sweet and polite at dinner, Eva wasn't one completely for manners and acting like a lady. Her dress hiked up nearly past her ankles, but she barely took mind to it.

    Petting the dog behind the ears, Evangeline playfully rubbed noses with him, "hey there, little fellow. It's alright, I know that you did not mean what happened earlier. Just a little accident." She had her hands over his coat to ensure that Timothy had not injured him in any way. She would never forget the day she had brought in a small kitten from the back fields, but the moment she had let the small furry creature out of her sight, Timothy had taken it back to the barn and shot it. The mere thought of it still brought tears to her eyes.
    "I truly apologize for what happened earlier," she said, briefly meeting the man's eyes, "I did not mean to get you in trouble with Timothy. It is hard to stand up to him, though, when he goes into such a rage. Though I am sure you know that well."
     
  20. Seeing her hair, easily flowing down to and perhaps even past her shoulders. Since the evening is still being drowned before them, the summer months causing a late sunset, Wes can only assume that she is in her evening ware. All these silly people have very odd names for such clothing. A dinner jacket, evening jacket, or a night dress, ball gown... oh it was hard to keep track of. Wanting to talk to Eva about her husband and his anger more, Wes has to hold his tongue. Now is not the time or place for he feels it would ruin the settling mood. Neither thoughts bother Wes but he only wishes for Eva to feel comfortable around him. Once he achieves that, he will have another lady on his side to fool the men into thinking that -everyone- hates him. He does have a feeling that Eva won't be so obedient as her two sister-in-laws to be.

    "The sunset is a miraculous thing. I can only hope that people of this age don't get too caught up in the growing machinery. For I have seen the train come past cities with my two eyes and the black smoke spilling from the smoke stack. The screen inside should catch the embers but some orange flakes would escape from the crackling wood. All that black soot smears across the clean blue sky." Checking inside his pockets for his matches, Wes sticks the cigar into his mouth, speaking as if his mouth were filled with food. "You know that Tim would hate for you to be out here talking with -me-." In his own defense, he adds, "But I am glad you are."

    Starting up the cigar, he watches as the flame before his face grows and grows until the whole tip is glowing. Taking three short puffs, the smoke swirls around his face, spilling from his mouth. Arathi takes no notice of his master for he is loving the attention that Eva is giving him. Her smell seems genuine, unlike the crafty Timothy or his brothers. Kind, caring, and just what his master needs. Wes, however, becomes a little anxious when Eva makes herself comfortable, his eyes being drawn to her ankles. Looking away, he hopes she doesn't notice. Clearing his throat, he takes another long drag from his cigar, blowing the smoke outwards. "Tim is no threat to me, Evangeline. I have dealt with his kind many a time. White men come to my land often and threaten to push me off, telling me that I did not buy the land fair and square, when I did. Try as they might, I shall stand with my mountain against the white winds."