03-28-2010, 06:33 AM
ooc: Austin, your table is gorgeous 
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word count: 429
ic: It was a calm, peaceful evening, and Cerridwyn was fully enjoying it. She sat perched upon a hillock, watching the sun set over a glittering ocean. It was warm enough now that the crickets were out, though not in full force. It wouldn't be long before she could watch fireflies dancing in the trees, and the collie-mix smiled at the thought.
She pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her long arms around them and resting her chin on top. She had tried, and was successful for the most part, to push the events before her sea voyage out of her mind, but they kept nagging her lately, insisting upon a mulling over. It did no good to dredge these things up, she knew; it was done and over with, she had learned her lesson and made peace with herself and Danu, and there was no purpose in beating herself up over her mistakes. Still, in the dark of the night, she could still see the faces of her tribe, her family, as they bound her and sent her off to her possible death. There had been no mercy there, no kindness, and it seemed that the faces she had grown up loving were nothing but hard, glittering eyes in the darkness, showing no remorse as she first screamed and cursed and then begged for a second chance which was not given.
She sighed deeply, and then was brought from her reverie by a low howl. She did not recognize the voice, but she recognized the intent; come, let's play! She smiled and stood, languidly stretching her tall form. That was exactly what she needed to get her mind off things; a bit of silly play. She had yet to meet all the pack members anyway, and a casual get together was the perfect forum for such. Cerridwyn gripped her stang and took off at an easy, ground-eating lope toward the center of the territory, the origination point of the howl.
By the time she reached the field, three were gathered in the now full dark; one, she assumed, the caller, probably the lightly colored wolfess, another dark, adolescent male, and then Delwyn, the gregarious pup with whom she'd had an exhausting game of tag a couple of weeks earlier. Memories of this brought a warm smile to her face. She reached down and gave the youngest pup a scritch behind his ears. "'Ello, Delwyn." Standing back up, she turned to the other two, and nodded her masked head in greeting. "Dun believe we've met jus' yet; m'name's Cerridwyn."
.word count: 429
ic: It was a calm, peaceful evening, and Cerridwyn was fully enjoying it. She sat perched upon a hillock, watching the sun set over a glittering ocean. It was warm enough now that the crickets were out, though not in full force. It wouldn't be long before she could watch fireflies dancing in the trees, and the collie-mix smiled at the thought.
She pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her long arms around them and resting her chin on top. She had tried, and was successful for the most part, to push the events before her sea voyage out of her mind, but they kept nagging her lately, insisting upon a mulling over. It did no good to dredge these things up, she knew; it was done and over with, she had learned her lesson and made peace with herself and Danu, and there was no purpose in beating herself up over her mistakes. Still, in the dark of the night, she could still see the faces of her tribe, her family, as they bound her and sent her off to her possible death. There had been no mercy there, no kindness, and it seemed that the faces she had grown up loving were nothing but hard, glittering eyes in the darkness, showing no remorse as she first screamed and cursed and then begged for a second chance which was not given.
She sighed deeply, and then was brought from her reverie by a low howl. She did not recognize the voice, but she recognized the intent; come, let's play! She smiled and stood, languidly stretching her tall form. That was exactly what she needed to get her mind off things; a bit of silly play. She had yet to meet all the pack members anyway, and a casual get together was the perfect forum for such. Cerridwyn gripped her stang and took off at an easy, ground-eating lope toward the center of the territory, the origination point of the howl.
By the time she reached the field, three were gathered in the now full dark; one, she assumed, the caller, probably the lightly colored wolfess, another dark, adolescent male, and then Delwyn, the gregarious pup with whom she'd had an exhausting game of tag a couple of weeks earlier. Memories of this brought a warm smile to her face. She reached down and gave the youngest pup a scritch behind his ears. "'Ello, Delwyn." Standing back up, she turned to the other two, and nodded her masked head in greeting. "Dun believe we've met jus' yet; m'name's Cerridwyn."