Thin Pages {open}

As the Spring student settled herself down on one of the courtyard's benches, she suddenly found herself longing for a seat that was a bit more comfortable. Perhaps the lounge would've provided a bit more cushioning, but a downside to the lounge was that it was inside. Nothing was wrong with being indoors, on occasion, but Noelle preferred the feeling of the chilly winter breeze. The small, leather book in her hand was full of pages, but they were completely empty. There wasn't a single scratch, smudge, or dot of ink on one of those thin pages. The emptiness of the pages resulted in an endless wave of white, which was pleasing to the eye, but the student still felt a desire to mark on those pages. She needed to. There was only one setback, though, and that was the fact that she had no idea what to fill the book with. It was disappointing, really, how Noelle could read for hours and hours about other people's thoughts on pages, but she couldn't put her own thoughts on any.

Deciding to stop pressuring herself, Noelle placed the leather journal on the empty side of the bench. Her mind, feeling the burden of having to feel the journal disappear, began to buzz with thoughts. Beata Academy was interesting. It was certainly nothing like her own home, to say the least, but that was expected. Boarding students here were probably glad to be away from their families, right? Would it seem immature if Noelle continued to cling to the memory of her parents? It was time to grow up. She couldn't possibly miss them, correct? Yeah, okay. That was a bit too much too ask. She would always miss them for as long as she lived here, but that was fine. She didn't have to put it on display for everyone to see and stare at.

Noelle shivered as another breeze passed through, and she gingerly pushed her journal until it was completely off of the bench. There was a tiny thud as it landed on the ground. She had convinced herself that she was completely bound to that pointless thing. Her parents would understand if she didn't fill it. They had to. She wasn't here to write, she was here to learn about herself, and about her gift. She couldn't learn much about anything by sitting out here and staring down at her hands while sitting on a rather uncomfortable bench, though. Noelle had no problems with her social skills, so she supposed that the only "difficult" thing was trying to adjust to her new surroundings.

However, there was nothing that she could do, now.

Gift mastery had left Beecher in a form he would rather not be in. A white wolf, young, just older than a puppy, but young enough to be considered as one by regular standards. If it had snowed, the boy turned wolf would match nicely with the snow. Yet, the snow did not seem to want to fall down in the valley River's Pointe. Not that Beecher cared at all. Before he had gone to Beata, snow would mean shoveling. And shoveling meant angry red blisters on his hands.

The point of all that was the fact that Beecher was very white and very easy to spot. Yet he hid from his brother, who had gotten out of gift mastery without getting stuck. The bench that Noelle was settled on was more than enough cover, and the student had taken his time sitting there, ears rotating as he tried to spot his brother. It was quiet, and at one point the student-turned-dog was dozing.

Well, dozing until a thud sounded next to his ear. Starting awake, he eyed the journal. Then glanced toward the girl, whom he could only see the legs and shoes of from his position. Hefting himself to his paws, Beecher slunk over to the book, grasped it as nice as he could between his jaws then plopped it back on the bench next to Noelle. Without waiting for a reaction, he returned to hiding under the seat suddenly more awake.

The breeze was beginning to bother her, and Noelle was considering heading back inside, but her train of thought was suddenly thrown off by the presence of something else. By the look of it, it had been a furry, white canine, or another creature in that category. The student hadn't had any time to search for details. She took a couple of seconds to stare down at the book that had been returned to its former spot on the bench. Had that thing been under there the entire time? Not an ounce of embarrassment flooded Noelle as she moved her gaze away from the leather-bound book. She brushed a lock of hair behind her hair that had been blown astray by the breeze before she quietly slipped off of the bench and crouched down to get a better view of what was underneath where she had been sitting. The thought that the white wolf could be a student did not cross Noelle's mind, she simply considered it to be some animal that had made its way onto campus without a care in the world. Then again, she highly doubted that a normal animal had enough intelligence to return a book so gently.

"Oh, hello." She began, her voice curious and calm.
She was risking something, here. If this was just a normal creature, then Noelle was probably making a fool of herself, talking to something that couldn't even understand a word she was saying. If this, however, wasn't a normal creature, then maybe there was a chance that it understood.
"I had no idea you were under there. Sorry if I startled you, or anything." The Spring student apologized, putting on the tiniest of smiles.

Where'd that mutt scamper off to?

Evander felt like he'd run circles around campus trying to pin down his brother's hiding place, but so far, no dice. It turned out wild animals wandering the school halls wasn't exactly an uncommon occurrence, since so far, nobody had been able to tell him if they'd seen a big white wolf around or not. He prowled up and down the length of the courtyard, rubbing the back of his neck, teetering on the edge of giving up and heading back to his dorm, when he caught a glimpse of a girl alone on a bench—... Talking to herself?

He paused in his tracks, letting his gaze linger. That, too, wasn't an uncommon occurrence at Beata Academy. But as he approached, the white fuzzball curled underneath the seat came into view, and a small smile split his face. Evander's fingers curled around the leather leash coiled up in his jacket pocket. "Careful!" he called over, "He bites." And for setting him on this wild goose chase, he was going to get a muzzle.

Blue eyes stared back at the girl, not moving for a long moment. Then, figuring she wasn't going to rat him out to his brother, the wolf's tongue rolled out in an involuntary happy pant. Beecher found himself rather pleased that she was not the type of student to run away all of a sudden when a wolf turns out to be under your seat. Completely normal by his own standards. Though, to be fair, he lived in a clan of shifters. Maybe normal isn't his standards.

His brother's scent hit him moments before he showed up. Evander. It wasn't Beecher's fault that he couldn't transform back. Why should he be put on some stupid leash? Even if he still had wolf behaviors, it wasn't like he was going to attack people like Evander does when he is transformed. No. He hated leashes. They felt too close to the leash that the clan kept on them when they left for Beata. Even when he lived in the dorms, they always seemed to linger on the back of his mind, telling him to behave. Beecher hated that. Pulling himself closer together under the bench, he looked back at the girl with pleading blue eyes, ears back.

Maybe he could get this girl to keep his brother from putting it on him. When in doubt, he could try and run for it, but he was more than content under the bench.

Noelle, even though she was tempted, wasn't about to reach out and pet this wolf. Even if its fur seemed soft enough to touch, the blonde wasn't about to test this creature by touching it. Her small smile stayed on her face, unmoving, as the white wolf began to pant. She had obviously done something right. She opened her mouth to say something else, but another voice managed to say something before she could get anything out. Still crouching down beside the bench, Noelle turned her head slightly to look at the boy. Upon hearing his little warning, the student figured that he must have some sort of connection to the wolf. She glanced back at the creature, who was now staring at her with an imploring look in its blue eyes, white ears pinned back against its head. That couldn't have been a good sign.

The canine's expression had gone from pleased to frightened so incredibly fast. Weren't pets supposed to be happy upon seeing their owners? She looked back up at the boy with the leash, her blue eyes meeting his.

"Hi, is this your pet? Noelle asked, softly.
She didn't move from where she was beside the bench.
"He doesn't look very happy to see you. Then again, I'm in no position to tell you how to take care of your dog, or, um, wolf."

"I guess I'm more like a dog-sitter. For problem pups." Now that wasn't entirely a lie. Evander's eyes flicked down to Beecher, and then to the girl, pulling the leash from his pocket and letting it dangle close to the ground, swaying at eye level with his brother. The end looped in on itself to create a makeshift snare. Just slip it around the neck,

She was sharp; yes, Beecher wasn't exactly jumping up to lick his face, and yes, that was an actual wolf, not a funny looking husky. He picked his half-truths carefully, not sure how this stranger might react if she knew it was a human being curled up at her feet.

"Wolf-dogs like this usually end up in the shelter. They're banned as pets in most states actually. People just don't understand that feral part of them doesn't go away. If you don't walk them two hours every day, they'll rip your furniture apart. And they're not affectionate like normal dogs. Or loyal. But someone has to take care of them." Evander the Dog Rescuer. Girls liked that kind of thing, didn't they? He spun through the story, but his rambling was just a diversion. The leash continued to sway in his hand, with the lightest revolving of his wrist. "I guess I can see how it looks like I'm a terrible owner, but I can't let him wander around like this either."

In his head, he knew this wouldn't be pretty. But right now, he had to keep his head cool. With a sudden jerk of his arm, he whipped the snare sharply toward Beecher, aiming to snag him around the throat.

Beecher narrowed his eyes. Problem pup? His only problem was that he couldn't turn back. Not that it was something his brother figured he should tell this girl. Why bother? He listened to his brother go on and on about how much work having a wolf for a pet would be and how much of a bad animal he was. Beecher bunched himself closer back until he couldn't go any further. Didn't he say he was a dog-sitter before, then comment on how he looked he was a bad owner? Man, his brother needed to get his story right.

Any further thoughts on his brother's lying skills were shut out as the loop of the leash caught his neck. Instinctively, Beecher yelped and pulled his head back--only making it tighter. White ears back, Beecher braced himself under the bench ready to try and stand his ground if his brother pulled. Blue eyes looking up to the shadow of the girl.

Noelle supposed that letting this boy take the wolf-dog away would be the best choice, considering the fact that she had no idea about how to take care about these creatures. He obviously seemed to know better than her. If what he was saying was best for the animal, then Noelle was in no place to tell him otherwise. Perhaps the wolf didn't look happy, now, but if what this boy was saying was true, then it would be happy later. She blinked, nodding slowly after the boy was done speaking.

"Well, I guess that makes some sort of sense." She muttered in understanding.
The student, once again, glanced down at the white wolf underneath the bench, before she rose to her feet, grabbed her journal from off of the bench, and stepped aside. She wasn't about to leave so soon, though. She was still curious as to how this action took place.

Noelle flinched upon the sudden, sharp jerk of the boy's hand. She watched as the loop caught around the wolf's neck. Something seemed to claw at her heart as she stared in shock.
"Wait, hold on," The Spring student began, her blue eyes darting over to stare at the boy with the leash in hand, "You call that a leash? That's more like a damn snare trap!"