Welcome to Gaia! ::

This place was not home, that was for certain.

Wynn wandered around the campus with his steel travel mug grasped between two gloved hands as he accidentally stumbled into a different part of the school that he hadn't seen before. Before, he had only really been interested in the magic section of the school since that was where he planned on focusing his learning efforts, therefore he didn't see this part of the school. The buildings looked the same, but there was a different air here, different people walking about with different clothes. This was the tech section. He hadn't looked at anything else beyond the essentials, but now that he was gliding through the technical area of the school, he was quite sure in his chosen path of magic. Magic was natural, magic was in the earth all around...This stuff wasn't. This was a territory he wasn't familiar with and it made him feel quite out of place. For the sake of finding somewhere more familiar, the dark skinned lad paused in his travels and turned about on his heel. Wynn started heading back to the building in the distance that was the dorms. That was a place that was familiar and growing more familiar every day.

In order to get to the safety of his room, Wynn had to pass over the center of the school, a wide concrete area that had small planted trees and stone benches, wide areas of grass and...A student?

Wyn was quite...apalled. He had stopped in his tracks when he saw this other student, a student older than him, kicking mercilessly at one of the trees in the courtyard. Absolutely astounded by this meaningless attack on a helpless tree, Wynn couldn't help but stand there and stare at him with his amber brown eyes. He would've stood there for much longer in wondrous silence but some kind of anger, a feeling rooted in his uncomfortableness and fear for this new area, bubbled to life in his small chest. It grew and grew until, without even thinking, the Inuit stomped over to the teen, his fingers clenched tight around his aluminum mug.

Standing only inches away, looking up at the much taller teen, Wynn pursed his mouth into a small frown and barked a halting jumbled question of anger, "What do you to the trees?!"

Back at home, Wynn was taught to respect nature, to protect it and cherish it, to thank it after using it for his own ends. It was bad luck to do anything harmful, nonetheless kick a tree! The spirits would rage, the harvest would soil and all sorts of bad things would happen if gratitude and respect was not given where it was due. This sight of seeing someone attack a tree, for poor estranged Wynn was too much to take with a silent frown.

Wynn's brow ticked upon his forehead as the explanation was given. No strong opponents? That didn't make any sense...That was still no excuse to beat up a living thing like that! Just because the tree is strong doesn't mean that it was put there to withstand force or that it was strong so it could endure a teenager's training session! The tree was a sacred spirit! Besides, there had to be something on this school campus that he could beat up, like a punching bag or something. This was just...unfair to the tree, to the spirits!

Unfortunately, Wynn hadn't practiced his English so well as to explain these thoughts going on in his head. With fists curling up, one around itself and the other around his hot coco filled travel mug, Wynn felt his knees lock and his soft leather soled feet root themselves into the concrete. His amber eyes, masked with frustration, narrowed underneath his own chocolate bangs as his mouth pursed into a displeased trembling frown. What came out of the boy's mouth was a loud, "H-hurting tree not training!"

And what followed was quite unexpected.

It was a fist.

Without thinking, Wynn threw out his free fist and punched the other as hard as he could in the ribs (which didn't cause much pain considering the other's training, and Wynn's days away from the hunting grounds). The Inuit boy wasn't that strong to begin with. Sure he could string a bow, climb trees, drag a seal's body from the icy shores to his village's meat and fur shop, but that didn't mean that he could do much damage in a fight. Hunting and fighting were two very different things and required different strengths and focuses. So of course, Wynn didn't know what he had started when he threw that first frustrated fist into the abdomen of this other teen.

Scrunching his small nose at the other student who was now holding him up enough in the air for the boy to lift up onto his tip toes. Wynn vaguely knew that what he just did was not allowed but for some reason, he didn't care. He didn't care much now that he was being lifted into the air by this much stronger student. He supposed it was only fair after punching him, but that was just the voice of reason in the back of the Inuit's mind. With the twist of his torso, he tried to struggle ever so slightly before he nodded his head in response to the other's question.

"Mmhm," he responded with a tight frown. There was a little voice in the back of his head, trying to drown out the voice of reason, that said he should throw his aluminum travel mug carrying hand into the side of this older teen's head..However he didn't. That would be going a little bit too far and even in his frustration, Wynn knew that.

The Inuit warily watched the other settle himself down on the ground, and the sudden action put Wynn on his guard. What was he going to do? Wait til he was on the ground so he could pin him and beat him up for lying a hand on him? His imagination could mount the possibilities, but Wynn choose to take the other's offer instead. Carefully sitting himself down as he balanced his hot drink, Wynn kept his eye on Wei as if expecting him to pounce on him as soon as he crossed his legs.

Alright, an introduction...A strange change of pace, but...It was better than getting the pulp beaten out of him. Wynn inclined his head and let a few moments of silence pass before he offered a quiet and unsure name of his own, "I am called Wynn...Wynn Darbinian." His adrenaline was still sparking in his veins so the Inuit tried to steady the quick breathing in his chest. "Shouldn't...hurt trees. Spirits will anger." he added with a meaningful furrow of his brow.

Wynn felt his brows furrow ever deeper over his untrusting honey brown eyes. He knew the concept of ancestors very well. In fact, he believed in ancestors as well and this idea of gaining their favor, of respecting them and worshiping them, going to them for advice and what what. Every night, even though that he was told that because of his new position on the globe it was quite impossible for him to see, he waited for his ancestors to come dance across the sky. He waited for the colors, waited for the northern lights, and to his disappointment every night the sky was laid barren. However, that didn't mean that his faith in his ancestors had dimmed any less over the time he had been transferred to the school.

Still...His concept of the ancestors and this "Wei"'s concept of ancestors were two different things.

"No making up. No chances. Do it right once, no payback later. My ancestors watch always, no room for mistakes," Wynn took a sip from his hot chocolate mug, a kind of method to try and calm him down, and he continued with a stern, "No reason to be hurting tree spirits."

Which was exactly what happened. Wynn felt the confusion mount up in his and this other's unfamiliar thoughts and ways of belief were so strange and new that Wynn didn't want to accept them. Where he lived, everyone believed the same thing, they knew everything and Wynn took comfort in that stability. Now things were jumbled and this older youth was stating that he didn't believe in tree spirits? Then how did the trees bloom in the spring? Why did they scream in a forest fire? How did trees drop their leaves and brave the winter storms if there wasn't life within them? Trees, as well as many other things, had spirits, had some sort of life and life was to be respected no matter what! This was strange, too too strange.

Wynn almost had the urge to throw his travel mug at the Wei's head, but instead, he threw himself. Tackling the other to the ground, Wynn gave a frustrated cry. He didn't even know why he tackled this other teen, it was stupid. But Wynn didn't know what ELSE to do to express his dislike and concern and general wariness about this new place.

In a flash of movement, Wynn's small lithe body was flipped and pinned within seconds to the cold concrete ground. His travel mug of hot coco slipped out of his hand and rolled away and the boy, attempted to struggle despite the firm grip around him. After wiggling uselessly for a good few seconds, the Inuit focused his amber brown eyes up at Wei. His bottom lip began to tremble, even though Wynn tried hard to keep his face from revealing too much. Despite his efforts, though, Wynn's face wobbled precariously between flustered anger and tearful frustration. After a few moments, the other boy finally got up and slipped his arms into his jacket which allowed Wynn to sit up and wipe at the moisture from his eyes.

"I don't like here," the boy muttered underneath the thick fabric of his sleeve, "Mmlonely."