Canvas and Melody - Prologue
#2 of Canvas and Melody
Fuck it. Got any questions about the story? Ask below, I'll answer in character, and it'll be canon. ... Doesn't work as well with the prologue because it's not really from any character's perspective, but I'll try. Go ahead, ask away.
I intend to do daily uploads until this story is finished, any and all comments and critiques are welcome!
Prologue
Memories
A dismal, gray fog envelopes all in a shroud of mist, haze, and surreal sounds. The sounds of engines running and people bustling along streets fades to the sounds of children laughing and playing. The occasional yelp, the rare squeal, and the ceaseless turmoil of joy. The fog thins, and reveals a wide open room full of kindergarteners, a para, and a teacher.
Two of them, a skunk and a very colorful wolf, are playing near the door. The wolf bangs meaninglessly on a plastic xylophone, only to have his hands abrasively grabbed by the skunk. The skunk takes the toy away and plays a child's tune. It's meaningless to say the least.
They grow up a little, in second grade they have a group of friends they get along with, and it's clear that meaningless is far from the truth. The skunk, is effectively gifted with music, playing piano solos at every school concert that rival those of sixth graders. The wolf himself seems to have taken a liking to painting and drawing, scolding his class mates for not being able to draw Pokémon.
In fifth grade the wolf is a marvel, giving up on crayons and colored pencils, his assignments are all painted, even to the dismay of his teachers. Both students appreciate the other's gifts, but can't stand it when they cross each other's paths. Music class was hell for the wolf, as was art for the skunk. They had their impairments in these fields, but they also had their gifts in the other.
When they entered middle school the skunk tried playing his guitar in the halls. Some jock smashed it because he wouldn't play the song he wanted, but it was soon fixed, and the skunk retaliated by popping the jock's football right in front of him. The wolf was one of the few people cheering the skunk on during that fight, and clearly to no avail.
As freshmen in high school, the wolf made his mark, painting a mural of colorful waves frothing in an ocean along the main halls. The Skunk himself was heard as well, and his solos in every concert became increasingly more elaborate, more intense, and more popular. By the time they were seniors, life hadn't changed much since they were kids. They still had their group, they still spent most of their time with each other, and the wolf still had his crush...