06-16-2009, 07:23 PM
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| http://i692.photobucket.com/albums/vv28 ... /raven.png); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: bottom; border:1px solid black;"> Misunderstood something, but you guys fixed it so it's all good, sorry about the blahness! This should be better, I guess :] Cwmfen+Dawali=short conversation=finish? Or what happens here exactly? I often need details to understand  Word Count: 516 The scent increased in intensity. He had thought the one was now out of sight and it was up to himself to make the choice of follower, but fate quickly revealed for him that he was wrong. A lone impression from Gvihita made it clear - and just as he interpreted it as a warning to hide he saw the creature coming towards him at full speed. It was certainly the same beast that he had seen come forward in the eyes of the dim-witted thing called Brennt, and Dawali felt his hind leg move backwards in an automatic reaction. He wanted to flee, be elsewhere, now that he finally faced the one he'd wished for a long time that he could confront. As it halted, his other leg took another step back, and the black tip of his tail pointed to the ground. In the moments that felt like years his body slowly curled in itslef, as if the male wanting to shrink. Wishing to say something, Dawali found his tongue tied, and he could merely watch the being as it judged him solely on instinct - a sight somewhat uncommon these days. It was brutal, and the piercing gaze of the predator lingered on his own faltering yellow eyes. Most of the wolves he'd ever encountered would use the power of language to determine what to do with any situation, but the absence of any such method sent a chill down his red-furred spine. As quickly as it had halted it then continued past the werewolf, and Dawali's eyes caught him only as a grey blur - one of precision and force. His side was still pressed against the wall, and now he sunk down along it, shaken - and surprised at being still alive. Vaguely he recognized the smell of Gvihita as the bird came down from the skies, her wings flapping all around his head as he hid it in his hands. She was angry, he knew, even if she was expressionless and said nothing. Moments later she had positioned herself on his shoulder again, statue-like, but her talons seemed to pierce his skin with unusual force. They would not leave marks - they never did. His eyes closed, covered by the hands whose palms where the purest of white, he noticed how they shook around him. The form of a tall and lanky werewolf sat crouched, his tail hanging limply behind him and the rest of him leaning heavily on the wall next to him, its red bricks blending with the furs as if a part of him. His heart still beat wildly in fear, but he did nothing but feel the shake of his hands against his skull as he rewound the short event and titled himself a failure. Even not when Cwmfen's scent was growing near did he look up, hoping she would not find him. Though the brick wall gave him and his red furs some cover, it wasn't enough by far to elude the female. Then again, he wasn't trying. He didn't know what he was doing. |