06-06-2009, 09:45 AM
OOC: I figured we should get it started before Dawali came in, Marit, let me know when you want to come in, otherwise I'll pm you at a good time?
Her scent came to him suddenly as the wind shifted. Brennt stood, and turned around, his dull yellow eyes searching hither and thither through the landscape obscured by headstones and crumbling foundations. Soon, he saw the black female from before. The one he had fought twice. The one he had loved once. The confusion melted away from his mind, the words seemingly sloughed off, and he was the predator. In her presence, it could emerge very quickly, now. It was the same person as Brennt, but without the confusion and uncertainty of words, its confidence and competence were much higher. It knew that it could stand against her.
In their last fight, it had fared much better than in their first. She had been ravaged very nearly as badly as it had. It had managed to survive on its own afterward, a testament to its resilience. It had fought her twice, now, and had learned quickly how best to combat the smaller, more experienced and skilled black female. It had fought many wolves since coming to this place. The predator's ability to count was vague and subconscious, what it might need to keep track of prey animals or pack members, and so it did not have a running tally of its battles. If it did, it would have known that it had fought fourteen times now. It had won and lost, and knew how to deal with either situation.
Nonetheless, it was uneasy around the black female. It knew that its chances of defeating her were greater now than they ever had been before. Judging by its last run-in with her, however, even a victory would come at great cost. It had smelled others seeking it out. If it killed her, they would find her, and know for certain that it lived here, and never move on. More importantly, it might be too injured to protect itself or run away. That was the concern which made its choice for it. Confidence aside, the predator had no pride. It valued its life above the black female's. Had Brennt been more intelligent, he might have guessed that his confusion over her was the cause of much of his grief. Killing her might very well have been the best way to fix his breaking mind. Instead, without words and in a state where he couldn't even comprehend his own name, he turned and ran, streaking down a row of headstones, and vanishing behind a row of taller ones. The predator would try to escape.
Her scent came to him suddenly as the wind shifted. Brennt stood, and turned around, his dull yellow eyes searching hither and thither through the landscape obscured by headstones and crumbling foundations. Soon, he saw the black female from before. The one he had fought twice. The one he had loved once. The confusion melted away from his mind, the words seemingly sloughed off, and he was the predator. In her presence, it could emerge very quickly, now. It was the same person as Brennt, but without the confusion and uncertainty of words, its confidence and competence were much higher. It knew that it could stand against her.
In their last fight, it had fared much better than in their first. She had been ravaged very nearly as badly as it had. It had managed to survive on its own afterward, a testament to its resilience. It had fought her twice, now, and had learned quickly how best to combat the smaller, more experienced and skilled black female. It had fought many wolves since coming to this place. The predator's ability to count was vague and subconscious, what it might need to keep track of prey animals or pack members, and so it did not have a running tally of its battles. If it did, it would have known that it had fought fourteen times now. It had won and lost, and knew how to deal with either situation.
Nonetheless, it was uneasy around the black female. It knew that its chances of defeating her were greater now than they ever had been before. Judging by its last run-in with her, however, even a victory would come at great cost. It had smelled others seeking it out. If it killed her, they would find her, and know for certain that it lived here, and never move on. More importantly, it might be too injured to protect itself or run away. That was the concern which made its choice for it. Confidence aside, the predator had no pride. It valued its life above the black female's. Had Brennt been more intelligent, he might have guessed that his confusion over her was the cause of much of his grief. Killing her might very well have been the best way to fix his breaking mind. Instead, without words and in a state where he couldn't even comprehend his own name, he turned and ran, streaking down a row of headstones, and vanishing behind a row of taller ones. The predator would try to escape.