04-26-2011, 03:57 PM
[html]w.c. 512
The piebald lady was not menacing by any means. Her ever silent and calm presence did not scream authority; her small stature did nothing to invoke submission in others. Certainly the fairy creature was not the mental image most carried about as to who lead a pack, but this would not faze the young lady. Conor had been correct in his assumption about his protégé. What she lacked in physically she made up mentally, where strength and size failed her she had speed and cunning on her side. Nayru was quicker than most, not just in motion but in thought, and very little escaped the elegant lady. And so she simply offered the man a half smile when his eyebrow raised in surprised, as if to say I know, but just you wait and see.
Patiently she took in his story, ever aware of exactly what words he chose to place where as he spoke. The question she had asked was answered fully, and yet his story was lacking. There were holes. How and why did he end up in Cercatori and what transpired between his sister and him? Nayru thought of her own sister, the tension that grew between them each day Farore asked the black and white woman to leave, and each day Nayru refused. If Farore left Nayru would not be hurt, but she would not be going with her. Yet family bonds kept the taller of the two clinging to Dahlia de Mai, even if she did not love it as Nayru did. Nayru had chosen her home, perhaps it had been luck that this first pack she settled in was the pack for her, but Nayru simply thought it was fate. Perhaps Alexander hadn’t been fated for Cercatori d’Arte, but if not why, had he ended up there at all?
Nayru knew family could be messy business. Before Farore had returned she misplaced her blood family and adopted another. Gideon, Bris and Conor. Now Conor had gone, Bris was barely there and Gideon too eluded her at times. And yet Dahlia de Mai stayed rock steady as her focus, where her heart laid. The woman had recently learned that there was more than just family bonds and so she couldn’t fault him for leaving his sister. Nor could she blame him for keeping his past to himself. If he feared her prying the woman decided to grant him a pass this time, she was not brimming with question into his personal life. Whatever the blue eyed man had experienced was his and his alone, Nayru didn’t need to share in that and she simply needed to know what the future held for them both if she was to accept him. “What do you think Dahlia will offer you that Cercatori could not? And what then, do you expect to give back to Dahlia de Mai?” Because it was always a game of give and take, and even when taking in the wayward orphans of other packs, and Alexander seemed wayward, one could not expect nothing in return.
The piebald lady was not menacing by any means. Her ever silent and calm presence did not scream authority; her small stature did nothing to invoke submission in others. Certainly the fairy creature was not the mental image most carried about as to who lead a pack, but this would not faze the young lady. Conor had been correct in his assumption about his protégé. What she lacked in physically she made up mentally, where strength and size failed her she had speed and cunning on her side. Nayru was quicker than most, not just in motion but in thought, and very little escaped the elegant lady. And so she simply offered the man a half smile when his eyebrow raised in surprised, as if to say I know, but just you wait and see.
Patiently she took in his story, ever aware of exactly what words he chose to place where as he spoke. The question she had asked was answered fully, and yet his story was lacking. There were holes. How and why did he end up in Cercatori and what transpired between his sister and him? Nayru thought of her own sister, the tension that grew between them each day Farore asked the black and white woman to leave, and each day Nayru refused. If Farore left Nayru would not be hurt, but she would not be going with her. Yet family bonds kept the taller of the two clinging to Dahlia de Mai, even if she did not love it as Nayru did. Nayru had chosen her home, perhaps it had been luck that this first pack she settled in was the pack for her, but Nayru simply thought it was fate. Perhaps Alexander hadn’t been fated for Cercatori d’Arte, but if not why, had he ended up there at all?
Nayru knew family could be messy business. Before Farore had returned she misplaced her blood family and adopted another. Gideon, Bris and Conor. Now Conor had gone, Bris was barely there and Gideon too eluded her at times. And yet Dahlia de Mai stayed rock steady as her focus, where her heart laid. The woman had recently learned that there was more than just family bonds and so she couldn’t fault him for leaving his sister. Nor could she blame him for keeping his past to himself. If he feared her prying the woman decided to grant him a pass this time, she was not brimming with question into his personal life. Whatever the blue eyed man had experienced was his and his alone, Nayru didn’t need to share in that and she simply needed to know what the future held for them both if she was to accept him. “What do you think Dahlia will offer you that Cercatori could not? And what then, do you expect to give back to Dahlia de Mai?” Because it was always a game of give and take, and even when taking in the wayward orphans of other packs, and Alexander seemed wayward, one could not expect nothing in return.