06-12-2009, 01:55 AM
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Just a mental note that this takes place right after Haku finds Cwmfen and Onus, ^=^;;
500+
As Haku had left, the warrior had watched him go in silence. Well done, he had said. Indeed, she had done as he had asked, fulfilling her duty to protect the pack from one who had attacked a member, or, more importantly, the Lilium. And yet, the warrior was at ill ease. While the dramatic show at sword point had been convincing to Haku that she was loyal to the pack—and she was—she now contemplated the nature in which Onus had departed. She had sensed the hurt, as if the point of the blade had been at her throat and not at his, and she knew that the pain had belonged to the masked yote and had been caused by her. The black fae breathed softly, her eyes turned to her knees as she remained sitting there, alone now in the clearing, the scent of the two lingering there only as memories. While she had displayed her loyalty to Dahlia de Mai, she had pushed away someone she loved. She knew it to be true—but had not that physical display been necessary?
Finally, the woman broke the stillness of her form, leaning forward as she shifted down to her lupus form. The crow crawed once more as the single eye turned to watch the Dreamer melt into a different and yet familiar shape. With the change complete, the black she-wolf lay there, allowing her body to recollect the energy that had been expended to complete that change. The white orbs were closed as she listened to the sound of the birds and the trees and the world as it sang, but always the image of that imperceptible frown came to her mind. It was strange how something so simple was unable to be cleared. With a soft sigh, the woman rose but did not return to the den that held still the scent of her lover. The silent paws carried her fluidly from that place, following a different path than the masked vigilante had taken to depart from the lands. Perhaps, the woman thought, she should continue to the unclaimed lands. The individual Brennt still required to be sought for what he had nearly done to Avarice.
The troubled mind of the Dahlian Adonis was broken by a call that rose strongly upon the air. It was not a voice that the warrior recognized, but it called for the leaders of her pack to come. She sensed anger in that call, and so the woad bound maw rose immediately, that deep, long song rising in a short response. Even before the female’s song, its tones dark like the night, fell silent in the air, her pace had quickened to an easy lope, her paws hardly touching the earth, it seemed, as she glided through. It was not long before she arrived, beholding a black female with green eyes like the trees sitting at the boarders. The scent of the unknown female held the distinguishing mark of Crimson Dreams, a land that she had only visited once before. But, although she did not know her, the Adonis assumed that she was of a high rank, a leader or subleader, to have requested the presence of such high ranking wolves. As the woad marked female approached, her maw was dipped respectfully in greeting. "I am Cwmfen nic Graine," the alto melody sang in introduction, "Adonis of Dahlia de Mai. I have heard you call." There was only a brief pause, if any at all. "I hope your news will not be too troubling."
Just a mental note that this takes place right after Haku finds Cwmfen and Onus, ^=^;;
500+
As Haku had left, the warrior had watched him go in silence. Well done, he had said. Indeed, she had done as he had asked, fulfilling her duty to protect the pack from one who had attacked a member, or, more importantly, the Lilium. And yet, the warrior was at ill ease. While the dramatic show at sword point had been convincing to Haku that she was loyal to the pack—and she was—she now contemplated the nature in which Onus had departed. She had sensed the hurt, as if the point of the blade had been at her throat and not at his, and she knew that the pain had belonged to the masked yote and had been caused by her. The black fae breathed softly, her eyes turned to her knees as she remained sitting there, alone now in the clearing, the scent of the two lingering there only as memories. While she had displayed her loyalty to Dahlia de Mai, she had pushed away someone she loved. She knew it to be true—but had not that physical display been necessary?
Finally, the woman broke the stillness of her form, leaning forward as she shifted down to her lupus form. The crow crawed once more as the single eye turned to watch the Dreamer melt into a different and yet familiar shape. With the change complete, the black she-wolf lay there, allowing her body to recollect the energy that had been expended to complete that change. The white orbs were closed as she listened to the sound of the birds and the trees and the world as it sang, but always the image of that imperceptible frown came to her mind. It was strange how something so simple was unable to be cleared. With a soft sigh, the woman rose but did not return to the den that held still the scent of her lover. The silent paws carried her fluidly from that place, following a different path than the masked vigilante had taken to depart from the lands. Perhaps, the woman thought, she should continue to the unclaimed lands. The individual Brennt still required to be sought for what he had nearly done to Avarice.
The troubled mind of the Dahlian Adonis was broken by a call that rose strongly upon the air. It was not a voice that the warrior recognized, but it called for the leaders of her pack to come. She sensed anger in that call, and so the woad bound maw rose immediately, that deep, long song rising in a short response. Even before the female’s song, its tones dark like the night, fell silent in the air, her pace had quickened to an easy lope, her paws hardly touching the earth, it seemed, as she glided through. It was not long before she arrived, beholding a black female with green eyes like the trees sitting at the boarders. The scent of the unknown female held the distinguishing mark of Crimson Dreams, a land that she had only visited once before. But, although she did not know her, the Adonis assumed that she was of a high rank, a leader or subleader, to have requested the presence of such high ranking wolves. As the woad marked female approached, her maw was dipped respectfully in greeting. "I am Cwmfen nic Graine," the alto melody sang in introduction, "Adonis of Dahlia de Mai. I have heard you call." There was only a brief pause, if any at all. "I hope your news will not be too troubling."