free firebird

Vesper · 11-22-2011, 02:11 PM

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WC - 579

X’yrin stated that she was glad, and Vesper was touched by the genuineness to the statement. Too long a loner, she was not used to others caring about her experiences and triumphs. Even her mother had not praised her when she started learning to hunt for herself, too busy caring for her poltroon sister to dote for long on the elder twin’s achievements. It was strange, but she pushed her slightly vulnerable emotions away.

She laughed at the owl’s antics and at the amber woman spitting down. It was a testy relationship, she could see, but the irritation in the former Nomad’s voice veiled a sort of odd affection. The bird attacked anew then, and Vesper leaped back with tail wagging as she watched. She might have rescued her friend if the owl meant harm, but right now she was content to watch as X’y made a transformation to better get the better of the owl. Her umber-gloved arm reached up to grab the creature, who admitted defeat by perching on her shoulder rather than batting her with his speckled wings anymore.

Vesper nodded at her continuing explanation. “I’ve met a wolf who had a hawk scout before,” she said, “though it wasn’t really a guide. Just as pigheaded, though.” Regarding the pair through contentedly hooded blue eyes, she murmured wryly, “Perhaps he will teach you tolerance.” She was surprised that X’y hadn’t fought the bird off, though perhaps she had only become resigned to its presence rather than actively welcoming it.

The older woman assured Vesper that she shouldn’t be ashamed for her panic, and the coywolf dipped her head as she listened to her own experience. Mention of the Shepard’s gift made her blink and lift her muzzle, but it made sense for one who hadn’t been sat down and talked to about the change. She saw her own transformation as a curse that had stolen away her old life, but she could see also how it had become a gift—an unwanted gift, but something she could definitely work to her advantage. She had gained more than she had lost.

A paw was offered to her, and the tawny female smiled slightly before letting her pale lids fall. She urged on the shift, which took time with her inexperience but was not as scary or painful as it had been the first time. She saw her lengthening arms as extensions rather than new appendages, and even though the crackle of her spine as it arched upward was as uncomfortable as always, she found herself looking forward to the release.

Vesper looked down at herself reflexively, her tawny and scarred body slender but lacking in curves, though slightly more nourished than it had been the first time. Her eyes fell from her shoulder along her arm, and at last she did what she’d meant to do when first changing—touched the other woman’s hand with her own, white fingers against dark.

“Maybe with time I can embrace this,” she admitted. “It’s still so strange, and it will never be as comfortable as the form I was born in, but I want to find some way to work this to my advantage.” She reached her arm back, scratching her fingers through her fluffy but cropped mane in a luxurious gesture before her hands found her unsubstantial hips in a parody of how she’d seen other women stand. “Though I’m about as graceful as a one-legged frog like this.”

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