Ooc;
She shouldn’t have ran the entire duration of her journey. Hell, she should have slept for at least a day. But no, time was of the essence and she couldn’t afford to waste her time with something as trivial as sleep. Sleep could wait. Food could wait. Grooming could wait. Not a chance could that wait. The female was too conscious of her appearance to even let that thought settle. But she didn’t take the time yet to groom the grime from her pelt or fix the braids now frayed and knotted.
But she did have the time to make her presence known to the tribal borders. Her voice exhibited both fatigue and want for attention as she lay, exhausted and weak. Every ounce of internal strength was used to carrying her call beyond the territory in the hopes of reaching the ears of whom she travelled this far to see. It was in this recollection of a name and face that the weight of her situation came plummeting down on top of her. She wanted to see him, make some kind of an impression, and she looked a mess.
Zynex cursed in silence, pulling her exhausted body from the ground to a seated position. At the very least, she needed to get cleaned up. Her coat was not as dirty as travel would have made it, but her mane was another story all together. She about bit herself for letting the mass knot itself so severely in the span of hours. Her digits raked through poorly wound cords to untangle them and combed furiously through the locks, snagging once or twice or problem areas. All the while, like a paranoid deer in a hunter’s midst, she kept a watch along the borders. Hoping to the gods that she would not be greeted in this compromising predicament…
At least, not until she was finished.
word: 314
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Foreign Exchange
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04-18-2010, 08:25 AM
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04-23-2010, 03:07 AM
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.Marittable001 b {font-weight:bold; color:#a28b83; letter-spacing:1px; } .Marittable001ooc {font-style:italic; padding:0px; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#8b8597; text-align:left;} .Marittable001 p {text-indent:0px; padding:5px 15px; margin:0px;} .Marittable001 {margin:0 auto; width:336px; background-color:#020006; background-image:url(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v121/ ... ali001.jpg); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #684b3b; padding: 0px 0px 220px 0px; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#8b8597; letter-spacing:.3px; word-spacing:1px; line-height:13px; text-align:justify;} </style> Word Count: -- A call reached his ears and he struggled for a second to recognize it, before it fell into place. Zynex? The sound she had produced gave away her exhaustion, and he rose very quickly and headed in her direction. What could be so urgent? Was she a messenger? Had Geneva worsened? Perhaps something else, something big. Dawali would never cease to worry when someone came with urgent news from Phoenix Valley, for an alliance was both a safety and a potential danger to their tribe. Al was well as long as there was peace, but he worried that Jefferson might one day call on them to aid the Valley in war. Still, this was the price to pay for being allowed to do the same thing in a time of need; it had its positive and negative sides. The Chief greatly valued their friendship with the Valley. He spotted her quickly enough, sitting on the ground. He accelerated now that she was within reach, and he was somewhat puzzled to see that she was tending to her mane and fur when he walked up to her. A hand was raised above his head in greeting, and he skipped the formal introduction; he knew her already, and she knew him. She looked tired, and he spoke with urgency in his mind, adrenaline at the ready. He was worried for what she might say, but his pose and face was all urgency, and not worry. "Zynex, what's going on?"
04-23-2010, 09:06 AM
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05-02-2010, 06:46 AM
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.Marittable001 b {font-weight:bold; color:#a28b83; letter-spacing:1px; } .Marittable001ooc {font-style:italic; padding:0px; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#8b8597; text-align:left;} .Marittable001 p {text-indent:0px; padding:5px 15px; margin:0px;} .Marittable001 {margin:0 auto; width:336px; background-color:#020006; background-image:url(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v121/ ... ali001.jpg); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #684b3b; padding: 0px 0px 220px 0px; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#8b8597; letter-spacing:.3px; word-spacing:1px; line-height:13px; text-align:justify;} </style> Word Count: -- The urgency that coated his mind lingered until she had finished speaking her first sentences, at which point he relaxed more. He smiled foolishly at her, and wondered what had made him assume the worst in this situation? Perhaps it was a residue from when Jefferson had brought Geneva here. Perhaps he had figured it would be something worse, something war-related, though he knew that that conflict had ended, now. He had been too stressed, all winter long, probably. As the agitation left him, a polite smile grew on his lips, but it was of the uncertain kind until he listened to everything that Zynex had to say. "It's okay; what are the news?" His ears were now lifted in curiosity as he waited for what she had come here so swiftly to say. He nodded as she stated her business, and now he relaxed fully and let all his agitation leave him completely. While Jefferson had not discussed this with Dawali until now, the Kalona did not really mind. Surely, the Patriarch was busy these days anyways. "Certainly. Perhaps I could learn a thing or two from you, too, then." He smiled at the younger female and continued. "Did you mean a continuing exchange or more of a here-and-now kind of thing?" Perhaps, if the idea was a continuing bond (which the chief was all for, and slightly disappointed in himself for not thinking of already), they should make some sort of agreement. After all, they were already allies; it was only logical that they could cooperate on other things as well.
05-04-2010, 08:00 AM
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