mourning in the warning.

Eris Eternity · 06-10-2011, 04:46 AM

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Word Count » 859
KJERRING SLATTERN -- YEAH I CURSED AT YOU IN NORWEGIAN AND FANCY SCHMANCY ENGLISH WHAT NOW HUHUHUH ♥ also lol nosedime = nosedive in last post. what's funny is once in high school i was wandering the halls singing a song about a dime up yer nose and a teacher gave me a :| face and chastized me. bitch. NOSEDIME. it comes full circle. also wow i wordpuked at you Sad

the world shudders as the worm gets its wings

The coal hybrid watched the equine move away, her chatreuse eyes focused on the shifting of muscle beneath his thin coat. Horses did not fail to impress her, though she was fairly wary of them, as well. She had never seen a spooked horse, but Larkspur had explained to her some of the finer points of horses, once upon a time. Were it not for their ability to be tamed and ridden, she might have regarded them as food. The wild ones were part food, part pet waiting to happen, should one possess the strength to tame it. Eris herself had neither the strength nor the inclination; the only creatures she was interested in domesticating were cats. She had seen small ones in Halifax -- they were gorgeously colored, with all sorts of patterns and coat types and sizes. Most ran from her, however, and she would not be able to capture an adult, she did not think -- they were fierce creatures, and even her own Itzcitla had been tamed from kittenhood.

The umbra colored wolf listened with interest as the man spoke, her curiosity immediately piqued as he spoke of damnation. There was nervousness in him, but the coal hybrid did not press him; rather, she listened in curious silence, wondering what darkness he carried with him. Looking at him, the coyote did not think she saw any -- such shades over the soul were generally clear as the full moon on a cloudless night to Eris. She could see such things, though she had been mislead before, too. The Kimaris had deceived her, but as they had been the eduators of this art, she might have expected such things. Their capabilities far exceeded her own -- Baphomet especially. That Mete and Dieriel did not carry with them the religion of the Eternians only made them more dangerous. They had not been bound by rules and regulations; they had been free to practice their deceptive arts with ease. Mantus, however, had been the orchestrator of it all, she knew. Now, however, the woman would not be so easily led astray. Not only had her own powers increased, but she was far more wary, and she would not fall prey to such traps again.

He spoke of things she knew, and her lemon-lime eyes widened as he continued, not at what he was, but that he would be rejected so completely and utterly from his home for such a thing. She had known such a thing, once before, but even that canine had not been forced to leave Eterne altogether. “Well, that is one thing you Holt Shepherds got wrong,” she said, punctuating the statement with a snort. “I knew a girl who liked other girls in Eterne. She was beautiful, but I never wanted her. I could have had her,” the coyote ventured, but she shook her head, smiling faintly. Appreciative as she was on the female form, the coyote was not one to love it. She required masculinity -- hard sharpness to soft curves. “She was no more an abomination than you, though,” the hybrid said, flatly. “What difference does it make who you love?” she said, wishing to substitute another word for love, though she did not wish to be too abrasive in the presence of Jeremiah, who was likely to be sheltered of such things and in a weakened state from the journey.

“Your people were useful ones. You learned skills in those mountains,” the coyote said, murmuring this more to herself than Jeremiah himself. Fighters or not, they lived in a foreboding and dangerous area, well-secluded from the outside world. They had helped her, no doubt, and she might have perished that night, but she did not grace them with quite so much thanks as to mindlessly draw one of them into Salsola's midst. Beyond his usefulness, though, she though he might be easy to steer toward their ways; no doubt, he might have some degree of difficulty in accepting them at first, but with such an indoctrinated upbringing and seemingly insatiable lust for the unknown, he might readily accept many more of them, coming to the harder ones later. Her sharp green eyes regarded him. “There is a place for you in this world, somewhere. Perhaps it is with me,” she began, turning her head and looking behind her pointedly, in the direction of Salsola. “You wouldn't be hated for what you are, at least,” she said, knowing this for a certainty. Whatever Bastion and Janos were, most of Salsola seemed to respect or fear them too much to question that relationship. Most were unlikely to even care, she thought. Such obvious relations were of little interest to her Salsola.

“Would you serve us? I have a superior -- he is my relative, Sirius Revlis,” she said, offering the first piece of Salsola she would give to him. In truth, she did not know what to call Sirius -- he was son of Dierdre, who was daughter of Thanos, her half-sibling. The hybrid did not have words for this relationship, but she didn't quite need them. Sirius was closest to her.

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