Jupiter

Vesper · 10-16-2011, 02:13 PM

[html]

Vesper

I said, I cannot follow the river

of her myth; but I can

follow her sweet desert song

like a stream through the fiery hills.

Word Count → 621 :: And the music tames the beast...

Vesper was hating life right about now.

Her body ached as she trotted along the eastern shore, eyes balefully scanning the waves lapping at the beach. It had been a few days since her encounter with the Infernian brute, and while her wounds were not life-threatening, they did not feel good. She paused to lick one, frustrated with the itchiness of the scab forming and tugging on her fur. Her only regret was that she hadn’t ripped his privates off before the end of the fight; she’d limped off like a fool, a weak woman. Her pride was in more agony than her actual injuries, and to say her mood was stormy was an understatement.

The coywolf didn’t even know why she bothered walking through Halifax. She had visited the city more than twice before, sometimes meeting wolves and sometimes walking along peacefully. It was good for her to explore as much as she could of Nova Scotia, and she’d memorized some of the twist and turns of the city, but generally her excursions were only when she was in a good mood. Today, she was simply excessively bored and angry, and so she ended up passing the same pickup truck three times. The final time, she snarled and whipped around, attacking the tire until her teeth hurt, not managing to do much to the thick rubber. Licking the black scraps from her teeth, she growled bad-temperedly and skulked back along down the sidewalk again.

I need another fight. Another fight would be incredibly stupid.

The conflicting thoughts struck against each other—fire versus ice, rage against sense. She could rip up the first wolf who looked at her cross-eyed, but at the same time, picking fights when she was already injured had never been the smartest thing. She would only lose, and her sore pride would make her irritable again. It was a never-ending cycle, and she was surprised she wasn’t dead already. At her worst, Vesper was an arrogant creature, and the losses she suffered seemed more extreme than to a canine who’d be considered a “good sport.”

A strange sound caught her attention while she was padding by a seaside restaurant, one that smelled oddly of horse. At first, she had to strain her coyote-large ears to hear it, but it crescendoed, falling into soft lulls like the ocean, edging high and low again. The hybrid froze, blue eyes widening as she listened to the sweet high voice of the violin, the sharpened edge rising higher and higher in pitch until it was impossible not to hear it. One last high note held out against the bass roars of the water, and Vesper found herself drifting in the direction of the treble, soprano voice.

Never had the beast heard music like that before. When amongst the coyote band, the others had often lifted their juvenile voices in song, and her sister Sparrow had been a fine singer. But the odd quality of the music entranced her, and she was not walking of her own accord as she ascended to the doorway of the building and brushed her head in.

A luperci was there, holding an oddly crafted wooden object in her hands, drawing something against it to produce the noise. A light blue plaid dress clung to her slender optime frame, the color complementing a gorgeous chestnut coat. Lids hid the hue of her eyes, but there was a soft smile on her face that seemed to match the music.

The scar-covered loner stepped a little further into the room, not sure how close she would be permitted to stand next to the lovely woman and the musical magic. She was still for a while, managing to say, “Beautiful.”

Login




Remember me Lost Password?