What the Paint Tells Me (Dris! ^_^)

[Anonymous]

Some blue here maybe? Perhaps green? Raaaa!

Vivian was having a difficult time finding the right colors to capture the forest today. It was in a weird in between light time. She wanted it to be authentic. So she could put it up in her small house and have the forest all the time. She wanted one in the morning, afternoon and night. She's gotten the morning one done, this one however was proving more difficult.

She sat on a little folding stool with her white sleeves rolled up. She wore a tan leather vest over it the flowing white shirt coming out from underneath. A long green skirt trailed to the ground. She was digging her toes into the dirt white her sandals sat next to her. She wanted to take off into the forest. She had never had that much trouble expressing what the forest meant when she was a wolf. That had been like asking how important it was to breathe.

She growled and snapped one of her paintbrushes in her hands then immediately regretted it. She looked at a couple other paintbrushes, a few of them taped up already from her frustration. She sighed and picked up one taking a deep breath and trying to find the color she was looking for.

[Anonymous]

Lost. How long? No idea. Still lost was more like it. Being lost was like living now. Ayr had been lost for so-o long that he had a feeling that he would feel out of place in a city or something of the sorts. Ayran sighed. He was going to have trouble with normal people wasn't he. The more he was lost in this or any other forest, he seemed to find that he liked it better among the wild, with the strange people, with the animals, with the trees.

He stopped in his tracks. He was tired. Ayr looked into the sky and smiled. The breeze blew over him, the song of the wild washed over his ears, he closed his eyes and dreamed of commanding such powerful music. Then he heard it. A distant *snap*. Ayran's eyes snapped open and swung his head to where the sound orignated from. Quickly, he nimbly tip-toed over and looked to see an incredible beautiful woman. From what he could see, she was trying unsuccessfully to draw a painting. Another beautiful form of art. Art and music, two of the greatest things he could think of.

Taking out his violin, he waited to to see how the painting would turn out before he started his own art.

[Anonymous]

Looking out in front of her Vivian tried to determine the mix between blue and green that she was looking for. Why was this so problematic? She tried to remember what the forest looked like through her old eyes but couldn't quite picture it. She had taken the place for granted so many times when she was a pup. It was just...home. A place where she lived. Now it was like a hole in her, she wanted to live in it again and never take for granted all the amazing moments she loved.

She smiled as she decided and mixed a few paints together and put a dot onto her hand. She stared at it for a moment then took her brush to the canvas her small smile returning. The paintbrush slid across the canvas, so familiar now. It was the only thing that kept her sane in this new body. She was used to it...but regretfully so.

[Anonymous]

It was the start of a great painting. Ayran could tell, even if the young woman had not actually finished much of the painting yet. He watched silently for a while, watcing in amazement at how she painted. It was then he decided that music was his art, because it was just as beautiful, just in another way. Raising his violin to his chin, he started off with but a single note, softly as it grew in sound and clarity. Then his melody began. It was slow and seemed to emanate with sorrow and vibrato. Ayran closed his eyes as he played, his mind filled with his music, as he improved his music as he played, adding a grace note there, instead of just one lonely note, he added the same note an octave higher.

He lost himself deep into his music, deep into his art, just like the woman's painting. Art. But while paintings pleased the eye, his art pleased the ears. Ayran played his heart out, as the song grew in speed and turned from sadness to musical anger. As he played faster and faster, his song still the same essentially, but yet still completely different, he felt, for the first time, that though he was no longer watching the art of painting, he had found someone who had a talent in something.

[Anonymous]

Vivian's brush was finally moving as she wanted it to. The colors looked right, not exactly perfect, but close enough. She wanted painting to help her remember what it used to look like. She wanted that desperately. It was something out of reach though. Even when she changed now, nothing looked like it used to. It was still muddled, not like what it should be. She went through a period of painting where her art looked muddled, unclear. She'd gotten past that but it was still true. Nothing was as clear as it used to be.

It was satisfactory though, maybe eventually she could find...

What was that?

Vivian lifted her brush when a low musical note hit her ears. This wasn't normal, hardly anyone ever came out here like she did. She knew the forest wasn't singing...it never did that anymore. She turned around in her chair looking around but couldn't place the music. Then it grew louder, it sounded sad. It was a sound she understood. She set her brush down and stood up as the music got angrier. What was going on? She walked a couple paces towards the direction she thought it was coming from. Still nothing. This was eerie. Times like this she wished she at least had her sense of smell.

Instead she was left to the human defense. Which...wasn't very helpful at all.

"...Who....Who's there?" She said it loudly, but had hesitation in her voice. She was nervous...scared.

[Anonymous]

Ayran had been so intent on creating his own art, he almost completely forgot about the young woman. He played with passion, with integrity, with love and sadness. With everything he had inside of him. What else in the world could keep him sane if not music? Some said that when you fell in love with another, it could keep you from falling into the never-ending abyss of craziness.

"...Who....Who's there?"

A voice! Ayran stopped playing abruptly. He was such an idiot. To be playing, he completely forgot what it must be to hear it. Just having it appear out of nowhere. Later, he was going to kick himself. He quickly put away his violin, making sure not to scratch it at all. Then he grimaced. It was always awkward to meet someone for the first time, especially when you were Ayran.

"Ahh, sorry Miss." Ayran stepped out from behind the tree. "It was just that painting reminded me of my own art and I found myself playing." He laughed and rubbed the back of his head. "Since I am here, I might as well introduce myself." Ayran moved forward a few steps, so he was only a few feet from the beautiful young woman. "My name is Ayran Saes, It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss . . . ?"