03-08-2009, 03:01 PM
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500+
Cwmfen was too involved within her own contemplations to have noticed that she was no longer alone. The black fae’s eyes were fixed upon her closed fist. And while she wished to feel an undying hatred and need to pursue her attacker, the fervor was lacking within her soul. Her mind wandered back to what her father had said, and despite her father’s flaws, she had to admit that he was an intelligent being (another thing that he had taught her was to admit to even the enemy’s strengths). The soulless crow-wolf had told her that doomed is the warrior whose enemies have all died. And her mother had taught her that hate was weak, allowing room in the soul for needless things of hindrance to a warrior. The warrior sighed quietly in this small defeat. Nevertheless, one day she may have the pleasure of challenging the creature without honor. The soft sound of landing broke through her thoughts like a cracked whip. The female’s face lifted abruptly, a snarl ready upon her lips. But the white eyes immediately saw that there was nothing to be gained, for the approaching creature was no enemy of hers.
“Onus,” the alto melody greeted with apparent surprise. She had not expected to see the coyote here, but of all the coys she knew, there was none better with which to share company. The black fae smiled lightly as she lowered her fist to the earth, keeping concealed the thing within. The woad bound ears pricked forward at the sound of his voice, and his inquiry seemed to find exactly the manner of her situation. A wry smile tugged at her lips. “I could be better,” the female replied quietly. “Or worse.” She could be dead, she decided. But was not paradise in Death? But she knew that it was not her time. She had not felt that it was. She looked up at him, inviting him to be near to her with a mere glance. Of all the creatures she had met, she wished that a fellow warrior would not have seen her in such a weakened state. If he, as she, were governed by instinct, perhaps such weakness would invoke a need to silence the life. And yet, because he was a fighter, she was glad that it were he, and not some one who would not understand her frustration, that would share her company.
At first the female was reluctant to rise for the weariness and pain in her beaten body, but she could not disrespect this male. Careful to use the strength of her left arm, the female slowly made the effort to rise. With a soft exhalation of her exertion, the female pushed herself up, ignoring the itching pain in her hip and back. If she had been given the chance to live in the face of defeat, the warrior would better herself, strengthen herself, and rise stronger from those ashes. Having risen, the female swayed slightly, for the aid of the spear was not near enough to implement. But the female was not left without an ounce of strength, and she steadied herself. As she had risen, the female’s white orbs had been fixed upon the earth, but they rose now to find the blindfolded male. With a sigh, the female asked, “Any luck in your vigil for Justice, City-Knight?”
Cwmfen was too involved within her own contemplations to have noticed that she was no longer alone. The black fae’s eyes were fixed upon her closed fist. And while she wished to feel an undying hatred and need to pursue her attacker, the fervor was lacking within her soul. Her mind wandered back to what her father had said, and despite her father’s flaws, she had to admit that he was an intelligent being (another thing that he had taught her was to admit to even the enemy’s strengths). The soulless crow-wolf had told her that doomed is the warrior whose enemies have all died. And her mother had taught her that hate was weak, allowing room in the soul for needless things of hindrance to a warrior. The warrior sighed quietly in this small defeat. Nevertheless, one day she may have the pleasure of challenging the creature without honor. The soft sound of landing broke through her thoughts like a cracked whip. The female’s face lifted abruptly, a snarl ready upon her lips. But the white eyes immediately saw that there was nothing to be gained, for the approaching creature was no enemy of hers.
“Onus,” the alto melody greeted with apparent surprise. She had not expected to see the coyote here, but of all the coys she knew, there was none better with which to share company. The black fae smiled lightly as she lowered her fist to the earth, keeping concealed the thing within. The woad bound ears pricked forward at the sound of his voice, and his inquiry seemed to find exactly the manner of her situation. A wry smile tugged at her lips. “I could be better,” the female replied quietly. “Or worse.” She could be dead, she decided. But was not paradise in Death? But she knew that it was not her time. She had not felt that it was. She looked up at him, inviting him to be near to her with a mere glance. Of all the creatures she had met, she wished that a fellow warrior would not have seen her in such a weakened state. If he, as she, were governed by instinct, perhaps such weakness would invoke a need to silence the life. And yet, because he was a fighter, she was glad that it were he, and not some one who would not understand her frustration, that would share her company.
At first the female was reluctant to rise for the weariness and pain in her beaten body, but she could not disrespect this male. Careful to use the strength of her left arm, the female slowly made the effort to rise. With a soft exhalation of her exertion, the female pushed herself up, ignoring the itching pain in her hip and back. If she had been given the chance to live in the face of defeat, the warrior would better herself, strengthen herself, and rise stronger from those ashes. Having risen, the female swayed slightly, for the aid of the spear was not near enough to implement. But the female was not left without an ounce of strength, and she steadied herself. As she had risen, the female’s white orbs had been fixed upon the earth, but they rose now to find the blindfolded male. With a sigh, the female asked, “Any luck in your vigil for Justice, City-Knight?”