Welcome to Gaia! ::

She offered it to him. "I don't know the name of it, actually," she admitted, lifting her shoulders in a cursory gesture then dropping them, nonchalantly. "But I remember in France, I visited the caves of Lascaux- and nearby, there were recreationists, showing how the primal man of that time made knives and spearheads. It chipped well at the sides, and could be tempered with flame and the right sort of rock strike."

She accepted the flint back, and nodded happily. In her mind, she recognized it as correct- the words 'flint knapper' had been flying around an awful lot that day.

"Oui! ...And don't quiz me on anymore French than that, because sadly, it's all I know." The 21 year-old laughed and scratched at a point on her neck absently.

"I've travelled... a lot. I used to be a youth diplomat." She added the last not to parade her own accomplishments, but rather to save Zach the question that most people asked after she said she was a prolific traveler: why? "Have you travelled?"

Led. She picked up on the surrepitous use of the past-tense, and her mind chewed on it like a starving child might a piece of bitter meat: painful to digest, but necessary... all the same.

"You never know where you'll end up," Emelyn said, not knowing whether she spoke about her own fate at having washed up ashore the Island of Hell, or at Zach's comment about never being able to go to back to Bath. "But unfortunately, I think I believe in a measure of fate. ...I suppose it makes me feel a little better about being here." She put a reassuring hand out to touch the man's shoulder, a gesture that came without words of comfort- or even a large feeling of hope. It was automatic to her nature.

The day wasn't getting any younger, and although having the pleasant (albeit brief) company of her newly christened friend was like a shot of adrenaline to the human in her- that strong, winding soul that desired the sound of another's voice, the touch of another's skin.... there was still that part of her that was irrevocably returning to the wild. Both physically and spiritually, something in Emelyn had been calling her home. Not her home- this New England turned country hopper and now island captive could never truly call the cove of the beach home, nor the concave sigh in the mountain where she lay her head at night. It was the animal in her- that primal, ancestral knowledge that all beasts were born with, whose love of belonging and home... was beckoned to.

Humans have always though themselves superior for the gift of the Blarney- the articulation of speech and thought. Since the dawn of man, they have seen this gift as what truly sets them apart- man and beast. It is one of the shames of nature that man does not realize how untrue this judgement is- how little he is connected to his fellow brother, sister, mother- that he must reach out with words. Animals have never needed to create this external bond, for they possess a deeper, innate connection to each other. When a human mother is teaching her child to sit up, to walk, and to learn their telephone number and address... those children of the forest know instinctively where their home is, how to find food... and how to love one another with a silent, invisible line that's been pulled between them like fate.

"I'm sorry... I've been keeping you long enough," Emelyn said, holding the flint up with a small but genuine smile. "Thank you again for this. It's been great to see you. I'll see you soon, I'm sure." It was not a fear of keeping the man that truly drew her back into the depths of the forest... but a silent tug at that invisible string. She couldn't understand it's language yet- or even that it was calling to her.

But one day, the language would be clear.

New Rp

White water danced in her mind, and she sang. The dream was still vivid in her mind the way those nebulous concoctions of humanity can be, gripping to every waking thought and clinging to the walls of her brain like a sponge satiated with glue. The details she chewed on as she sat, chipping away at her chunk of flint were few. The dream had been so simple- she stood on the top of a barren cliff, an ice blue dress whipping about her ankles and forming to the curves of her legs as she stood against the wind that blew off the white waves. She'd stood there, staring out at the frothy white water for every moment of that dream- a lifetime and a day.

Perhaps that was why, upon waking, the girl had crawled her way to the top of the cliffs to finish her task, and why she sat nearer to the edge than she ever had before. The waves she glimpsed over her chipping were far from white, and not nearly as mesmerizing as those in her dream. ...But she was still drawn to it, and to the hollow, low song she sang to herself, forming the words in her mind merely seconds before forming them on her lips.

Every day, a new sliver of company gratefully invaded her countenance. Emelyn turned to the sound, a startled smile her instantaneous response. In these days of solitude and communion with nature, she had been both surprised and pleased to discover that she felt the presence and company of others more often than when she had barricaded herself in her duplex many times before. What a blessed new form of 'solitude', the girl thought to herself as she lay the flint fragment in her lap. It was cool to the touch, and it only deepened her smile as she wrinkled her nose at the newcomer.

"Why hello! ...Don't think I'm wincing, please- I'm just... not at my best when the sun is this high." Her clawed hand arced upwards in a gentle motion, as if to point out the glaring orb's position in the sky. "I don't think we've met before? I'm Emelyn." The woman had obviously been on the island for a while- those ears, that muzzle- it was all indicative of a fellow 'experienced inmate' of Hell Island.

"Emelyn." She said it again, not surprised that the simple name had become lost in her ream of speech. "And I'm sure that's part of it," she nodded, acquiescing to Madison's explanation, "but I'm sure it doesn't help that I'm nocturnal now." She tapped the decliately furred bone of her cheek beneath her left eye.