{safe and sound} in your arms

[Knight]

Things had been good before. Before her father had run off and left them and everything had fallen apart. Her mother had been a stay at home mother, so when the time came for her to get a job, the best that she could find was waitressing. And trying to pay for three daughters on that salary? Wasn't exactly the easiest thing. Amara had grown up making sacrifices for her two little sisters. She had been six when her father left, and Lane two. She was the only one of her sisters who remembered him. Her mother had dated women after him, but none of them had stayed long. Who wanted a woman with three hungry children who called him 'daddy?'

Suffice it to say that things had never gone easily for the Morozovs, who still retained their father's last name. Each sister had dealt with it in their own ways. Lane's boyfriends bought her stuff and that was that. If they dated her, they had to be willing to shower with gifts and that was how she stayed at least somewhat fashionable with the amount of money that they had. Guys bought her clothes they wanted to see her in. Ariana studied and dreamed big. One day, she would get out of here and be a psychologist. She would make enough money that none of her family would ever go hungry again.

And then there was Amara. She had lost count of how many times she and her mother had gone hungry to make sure that Ariana and Lane had food. Amara worked. She had spent little time on her studies and instead as much time as possible on her job. The timid woman was a year out of high school now, working full time along with her mother to make sure that Ariana and Lane had the best chances. She wasn't sure if she'd ever go to college and honestly she rather doubted it. She'd be happy if her sisters got out of this life, honestly. That was all that she cared about.

Her mornings started early. There was no complaining as she dragged herself out of bed and grabbed clothes. Most of them were hand me downs that might have been fashionable at some point in time, but by now were just clothes. Her sneakers were well worn and scuffed and a little too small for her feet, but Amara was far too used to that as she made her way out the door. She would walk to her job and then they'd place her behind the Starbucks counter and Amara would take orders, fighting down the shyness as she prepared drinks for her customers.

It was on her lunch break that Amara finally escaped from the chaos behind her counter, leaving her coworkers in charge of that as she settled down daintily at one of the tables. They were normally reserved for customers, but no one had told Amara that she wasn't allowed to sit there, so she did. And she would normally open up a book to distract herself from how hungry she was and try to forget the world for a little while.

Which was what she was doing right then. Her lunch break had just began and Amara read, leaving this world behind for the more beautiful one beneath the sea. She read classic literature, books that most people shunned, that her coworkers called boring. Mostly because just for a little while, she wanted to pretend that she lived somewhere (anywhere) but here. She had always been the imaginative one. And to be chained down in a place like this was almost painful. These books were her only respite.

[Matsi]

He walked silently through the streets, his glassy blue eyes wide as they took in the sights. He had never been in a city before, and now that he was venturing into one at the ol' age of twenty, he was in awe. People looked at him, with confused and judging eyes, as he walked down the street, eyeing each building, car, person and object he could.

He was not a small man, to say the least. He was tall, standing a massive 6'7'' tall, with large, square shoulders and thick arms and back. His skin was fair, as if he had spent all his life inside. Matching his fair skin, was his hair, which was as white a snow and slightly curly as it draped just over his ears. He had interesting line and dot tattoos under each eye, and native jewelery decorated his hair and ears.

On the left side of his head, clinging in his hair neatly, was an odd, brown leather bracelet like object with black strings that held three bluejay feathers, and a then a leather throng, beaded with turquoise and one fang of a canine hung in his thick hair just below that.

His right side was just as decorated, with a throng with black raven feathers and a necklace beaded in blue stones and a large claw hanging loosely to his shoulder. Both of his ears had one, green stone earring wrapping around his ear's cartilage.

One would think that those type of decorations would be enough for the poor traveller to get odd looks over, but not for this young man. His body was clad in nothing but thick, pale cream colored leather pants. Nothing more. Nothing less. Of course, this left his thickly muscled body exposed, making him look even larger.

The young man had no name. He was a native born man, but left his tribe when he had found his gift for healing the spirit and body of living things. He had been cursed to walk the land as a White Bison for five years, then, only a few nights ago, he was freed from that curse (Or blessing as he considered it), to only take that form during thunderstorms. Though, he didn't know that part yet. Which was why he decided to investigate the city. Surely there were many people here that could use some healing!

So, he found a spot outside of a shop that read "S-t-a-r-b-u-c-k-s".... What ever that meant.... and greeted people. He would nod and smile at people and if he noticed that they had a damaged spirit, he would speak.
"Excuse me, ma'am," He said softly. His voice was like velvet, which was surprising coming from a man so large and rough looking.
The woman and her child looked up at his face, eyeing his pale stubbled features for a moment.
"Your spirit, it is cracked. Please, let me heal it for you," He said like a child whispering to a bird.
The woman only snorted, tugged at her child's arm, and stormed off.

The Healer was confused, but only moved on to the next person. A tall man, (not as tall as himself of course), was about to head into the door of the building that he stood in front of. The healer could see that his spirit was tainted with evil deeds and crumpled up and torn. He was surprised, for the man didn't seem that old, yet had the spirit of an ancient tree.
"Sir, your spirit... It is old and failing..." The man turned and met his blue gaze with an icy silver one. He stood there, door open, glaring at the Healer.
"I would like to heal it, if you will allow me,"

Perth couldn't believe this guy. Was this some type of joke.
"Leave. Me. Alone, [small]bastard[/small]" he huffed and wandered inside, leaving the odd man outside in the sunlight.

Perth was not a morning person, thus in a horrible mood. Hell, who was he fooling, he was always in a foul mood. But he did want his coffee before he went to his parent's mansion to help with the party arrangements. The 20 yearold clearly was filled with anger and frustration, though he didn't admit it. He only let it boil as he wandered to the counter and ordered and wandered to sit at a table beside the worker that was reading.
He paid her no attention though as he pulled out his laptop from his bag and started to read articles about various subjects.

[Knight]

Blissfully oblivious to the exchange outside (she probably would have been terrified of this spirit healer. well either that or she'd love him.), Amara remained engaged in her own little world. She hummed a soft tune, just beneath her breath as she examined the pages, letting them imprint themselves on her mind and leaving fantastical images behind. Well, that was probably a bit of an overly elaborate description for reading and ignoring the world.

She was peaceful, until the moment that another flopped down at the table. He was a stranger, just sitting at her table. And he didn't even seem to have noticed her. There was a moment during which Amara bit back panic. He looked scary. But instead of freaking out, she forced herself to take a few deep breaths and examine him carefully. Now, he was unlikely to try and kill her in public, right? RIGHT. So she shouldn't be totally freaking out, right?

Amara wriggled back a bit, plastering herself against the back of the chair as she examined the guy, trying to get as far away from him as possible without being obvious. Maybe she could just stay like this until he left and that way he wouldn't notice her AND EVERYTHING WOULD BE OKAY, RIGHT?

Well, hopefully. Despite the fact that she was grasping vigorously at straws, Amara was doing her best to view this situation objectively. And she was failing, of course. But still. It was the thought that counted, right? "Um. Hi?" Amara squeaked nervously, forgetting for approximately ten seconds that she was trying to pretend that she didn't exist. And when she remembered again, the moment that the words were out of her mouth, she clapped a horrified hand over her mouth and highly debated just sliding out of her chair and running away.

Of course, Amara was too afraid to do that because maybe he'd just like hunt her down and kill her or something. Okay, that was a little paranoid but that was her default state of mind when random people sat at her table and totally ignored her. Hey, maybe one of her coworkers would rescue her soon. But no, they all seemed to be pretty engaged. And totally ignoring her. Well, crap. Now she was well and truly stuck with this scary guy.