05-24-2010, 11:01 AM
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Private for Bris~ Would it be okay for this to be backdated to the 17th or 18th? If not, that is okay, ^=^ I will leave the time zone vague just in case!
The rain had washed most of the brine from the black fae’s coat, but there still remained enough to hinder the heat-retaining quality of a wolf’s coat. The black fae respected the sea and the power if its vast waters, but she was not a creature of the deep. She was a creature of the woods. Indeed, she loved the rivers and pools and lakes that were the domain of Nemain, but such waters were not governed by the same forces as the sea. And so the Raven Warrior had moved beyond the borders of the lands that had accepted her once more, the woad-marked limbs carrying the fae with dancing steps to a place she knew well. The sounds of water were clear through the trees. The dim light of pre-dawn breathing silver warmth onto the woods seemed to cause the warrior’s foreign features to light up. The white of those eyes danced with a fierce and yet quiet flame as they peered upon the familiar paths. The woad Warrior desired to bathe, but first she was required to visit an entity that had given her much.
The pied bird whispered through the trees, gliding with as much ethereal ease as his she-wolf below. The single eye was turned upon the path ahead while the empty socket was fixed, unseeing, upon the path already traveled.
The great oak rose before the returning wolf, causing her to pause. The graceful movements ceased, and the silent song of her paws with them. The white orbs turned toward the great sentinel that had allowed her to bode within its roots, and slowly, as if approaching a deity, the wolf moved to greet it. The woad banded maw dipped respectfully, brushing lightly upon the bark of the roots. The weapons she had left behind remained safe within the oak’s protection despite their tarnished condition. She would be able to restore their songs. At that moment, it was the song of the tree that moved through her, and she listened carefully, the white orbs becoming half-lidded as she listened to something beyond the material world....
And then she had stepped back. The Raven called into the early morning air.
The warrior’s silent step carried her to the waters that had called to her first. A cleansing was needed, and something more as well.... As she moved, the Warrior’s body did not display the weariness that she felt, for, as a Warrior, she could never display the true weakness when it was felt but instead posture the strength she needed an opponent to behold. Alert and yet relaxed, dominant and yet humble, she moved to allow the waters to cleanse her body. Cwmfen slid into the waters with the ease and grace of an otter, and the soft melody of the water greeted her still vibrant soul. A soft sigh of satisfaction slipped from her jaws. The pied Raven sat upon the a tree’s limb, becoming naught but another shadow of the woods.
Private for Bris~ Would it be okay for this to be backdated to the 17th or 18th? If not, that is okay, ^=^ I will leave the time zone vague just in case!
The rain had washed most of the brine from the black fae’s coat, but there still remained enough to hinder the heat-retaining quality of a wolf’s coat. The black fae respected the sea and the power if its vast waters, but she was not a creature of the deep. She was a creature of the woods. Indeed, she loved the rivers and pools and lakes that were the domain of Nemain, but such waters were not governed by the same forces as the sea. And so the Raven Warrior had moved beyond the borders of the lands that had accepted her once more, the woad-marked limbs carrying the fae with dancing steps to a place she knew well. The sounds of water were clear through the trees. The dim light of pre-dawn breathing silver warmth onto the woods seemed to cause the warrior’s foreign features to light up. The white of those eyes danced with a fierce and yet quiet flame as they peered upon the familiar paths. The woad Warrior desired to bathe, but first she was required to visit an entity that had given her much.
The pied bird whispered through the trees, gliding with as much ethereal ease as his she-wolf below. The single eye was turned upon the path ahead while the empty socket was fixed, unseeing, upon the path already traveled.
The great oak rose before the returning wolf, causing her to pause. The graceful movements ceased, and the silent song of her paws with them. The white orbs turned toward the great sentinel that had allowed her to bode within its roots, and slowly, as if approaching a deity, the wolf moved to greet it. The woad banded maw dipped respectfully, brushing lightly upon the bark of the roots. The weapons she had left behind remained safe within the oak’s protection despite their tarnished condition. She would be able to restore their songs. At that moment, it was the song of the tree that moved through her, and she listened carefully, the white orbs becoming half-lidded as she listened to something beyond the material world....
And then she had stepped back. The Raven called into the early morning air.
The warrior’s silent step carried her to the waters that had called to her first. A cleansing was needed, and something more as well.... As she moved, the Warrior’s body did not display the weariness that she felt, for, as a Warrior, she could never display the true weakness when it was felt but instead posture the strength she needed an opponent to behold. Alert and yet relaxed, dominant and yet humble, she moved to allow the waters to cleanse her body. Cwmfen slid into the waters with the ease and grace of an otter, and the soft melody of the water greeted her still vibrant soul. A soft sigh of satisfaction slipped from her jaws. The pied Raven sat upon the a tree’s limb, becoming naught but another shadow of the woods.