Lady on the Water

Nayru · 04-21-2011, 02:49 PM

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Hey guys! This pack meeting is MANDATORY. Anyone who does not reply in two weeks will be demoted at the end of the month when I do the activity check! If you cannot reply within this time but would like to remain at your current ranks, please PM me. PLEASE don't feel the need to match my length, write as much or as little as you'd like, just please reply ^^. wc 892

They had all dropped out. One after another. Bottomed out. Burnt out. Just up and left.

Conor's departure was most recent on her mind. The look in the man's eye as he confessed his abandonment preoccupied her, and try as she might she could not wash away the image. At night he stood next to the white lady as they both silently stared her down. Lavender eyes now seemed more demanding, more judging than the navy ones that had previously been the only set to haunt her before. Was she capable? Competent? Confident? The lilac eyes asked her these questions and they also answered them for her. Yet upon waking she knew that the opinions of such dream demons did not matter. Conor was gone and cared little if she sank or swam, and she had no choice but to swim.

Constantly swimming against the current it seemed. Perhaps they were rapids and not a simple current that swept them all out from under her, away to some shore that she was not welcome upon, and had no care to be anyway. All the figures who had shaped her, molded her into the being that had emerged from the silent fairy child who had first arrived in Dahlia de Mai, now seemed miles away. Saluce had left without so much as a goodbye and Nayru could not understand why this was, nor allowed herself to wonder for the ache that it caused unexpectedly in her normally stoic heart. Larkspur had left his ugly stain on her soul and was now very little more than a memory of someone who once was part of Dahlia de Mai's strange dynamics. Cwmfen was even more a memory than that and Nayru could barely recall the warrior women whom she had once wished to be like. The waves of time had washed over them all and wherever they were now, it was not here, the shore she was now the sole guardian of.

The others persisted: Gideon, Bris, and Saul, the last remaining three of those she had grown up under or beside. Followed by them were Melee and Range and the other adopted orphans, romping and roaming as she herself had once done. Finally her mind moved to Siku and the others who had arrived more recently, so many new faces and names she had yet to memorize but knew she had waited too long in making herself known to them. Yet even though they swam just as fervently against the rapids as she, Nayru knew better now than to expect them to do so forever. Sooner or later the waves would get the best of them and taken them under. The cow patterned creature had to harden her heart against this, because if Conor and Saluce had proven anything, it was that those who had always been there could suddenly vanish and there wasn't anything anyone could do to prevent this.

So mocked the eyes of Conor and the white woman as she wearily woke from her slumber, far before day break, and she shook the images from her head. She imaged the thoughts escaping from the scar that lined her forehead but was slowly growing back the ivory and ebony fur that covered the rest of her head. Forget them and move on. It was all anyone could do and exactly what she intended. Rousing Farore from her sleep she set the woman to work, helping Nayru to fall a great buck and drag it into Wolfville just as the sun was slipping up over the horizon. Once the deer was in place, in the center of the town square so that all the stone sears circled the large carcass, Nayru sent her sister away. This was Dahlia's day and Farore refused to make that committed whole-heartedly.

As Alpha she had that power now, and her hushed voice sent the mostly white woman fleeing out of the pack lands for the day and Nayru wasn't sorry to see her go. Those whose hearts weren't all in had no business being in at all. With the dagger that was so very dear to her she sliced open the buck's body, hacking and sawing and soon just pulling at bones with her hands until they snapped and separated. Half the animal she threw upon a fire that she built hastily, the smell of roasting meat quickly filling the air of the square. The other half she left torn and shredded where it laid, not far from the fire. The primordial and prevailing life styles that they kept, both possible out of one source. The old and the new, those who wished to consume a more cultivated breakfast could, or those who deemed it still most acceptable could feed on flesh not so far removed from its natural state. It did not matter to her, for they were two halves of the same coin.

Throwing back her head her howl, the loudest sound she ever made, floated from deep within her lungs. It spread across Dahlia de Mai, surely hitting those in Wolfville and Berwick first, but penetrating all the land and for some miles beyond their borders. It summoned them, beckoned them forward. This is important. Get here quick. And she waited for those who were still strong enough to swim against the tides.

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