507. close-ish to Anathema borders. Sorry for the wait Mel
Life had resumed its normal pace for the most part, and Nayru was slowly growing into her new role. Almost a while new life. After the accident everything had seemed hazy and unclear, and she had simply floated through day after day, uncaring of what went on around her. What purpose had she in Dahlia de Mai, a useless creature with her head half torn open and unable to emerge from the house with glass walls? Yet Gideon and Farore hadn't let her sink into the darkness that had beckoned so temptingly, and then Conor. Conor had swept in and raised her up once more, putting more responsibility on her shoulders. Rather than crumpling under the weight it forced her forward, and she couldn't be more grateful to the male. He had reminded her of place, or her purpose and no longer could she linger in her own life. She had to reemerge.
And she had, at least in Dahlia de Mai. The borders were now scouted more than ever, the scents of the members and visitors recorded in her endless memory for further reference. She hunted with new relish, exchanging the lives of others so to better her own and those of her pack members. It wasn't their blood she fed off of, not strictly speaking. It was the energy of the hunt. And of the patrol. And of dealing with the members as she always had. She was an ever knowing ghost, a playful pixie, an entity that was as much part of Dahlia de Mai as the lands that made it up. Yet life still happened outside of the pack lands and she needed to remind herself of that.
Into the Dampwoods swift paws carried her, and it felt strange to step outside of the borders of Dahlia de Mai. The change of energy was instantly felt and while the rush seemed foreign to her it was not unpleasant. It was pleasure she had indulged in many times only months ago, but that seemed much longer ago than it really was. Time was funny like that, it never seemed consistent. It could stretch on forever or elapse much too quickly. Nayru couldn’t recall how long it had been since she wandered this trail, how long since she had had a moment away from Dahlia de Mai. How long it had been since she did anything solely for herself. So when the flurry of feathers was scared up out of the bush she did not hesitate. Time failed her then too, and it seemed instantaneous from the moment the bird tried to take flight to her tearing it apart on the ground, and then it seemed to drag on forever as she leisurely picked flesh off of small hollow bones, and then set to work consuming the bones and feathers themselves. It was all for her, this primal pleasure, and she relished in the moment, glad to be away from the pack lands and anyone who might stumble upon her and destroy this beautiful moment.
.spintree-ooc {font-style:italic; padding:0px; font-size:12px; text-align:right;}
.spintree b {font-weight:bold; color:#6a5959; letter-spacing:1px}
.spintree p {text-indent:0px; padding:5px 15px; margin:0px;}
.spintree {margin:0 auto; background-color:#342c2a; background-image:url(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v90/c ... ubyfae.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; padding: 250px 0px 10px 0px; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#746d66; letter-spacing:.3px; word-spacing:.8px; line-height:12px; text-align:justify; width:400px; border:1px solid #000000; margin:0 auto;}
</style>
[/html]