05-31-2009, 06:47 PM
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500+
Her white eyes regarded the male. Those eyes the colour of blood were so intense and yet empty. It was not difficult for her to retain that visual contact, but it was difficult for her to see past the surface of that gaze. The she wolf shifted slightly, with effort and not without pain, though she did not allow her reactions to display such a thing. The warrior was uncomfortable with portraying weakness before this creature. She knew, reminding herself once more, that she would not be able to defend herself efficiently in such a state. And once more she reminded herself that the male continued to remain still. No attack ever came, and she did not even sense that one would come. At least not upon this day.
"And we do," the soft melody replied, "when our time has come." It was strange that the coyote should wish such a thing when life moved to that very state of Death. And perhaps, she considered, he meant that they should die at that very moment, should simply cease to exist. But that was a strange thing to wish as well. Nature created life, and in turn had created death. Without the former, the latter could not exist. It was the simple principle of dichotomies and paradoxes. The black warrior wondered at his reasoning, but she did not think that she could understand this mind as fully as she wished to. "Some give birth to a life so that life may persist. Others kill that life so that death may exist. And others yet.... they simply contribute nothing." And such creatures believed themselves to be the keepers of peace. But as a warrior, the woman could not understand how peace could be kept or even exist without war and violence. Such comprehension, however, was not a prerequisite to her existence.
"Perhaps my life will end in your jaws," the woman returned, her eyes holding a darkness that always accompanied Death. "Such a death would be beautiful indeed." The woad marked fae was a warrior, and she believed that to die in battle would be the most glorious way for her to die—with the songs of war ringing in her ears and the jaws of death finally closing upon her heart. It was the only way—she felt that it was inevitable. "And perhaps you will have earned my tail," she continued, believing it strange that he would desire such a thing. "But what happens to my body once life has ceased is not within my hands." And she fell silent for a moment, the white orbs watching the red eyes of the coyote. He was strange, unlike anyone she had ever met. The black fae was sure that he was mad, and yet there was a strange amount of control. "But why would you want my tail, of all things?" Even in the presence of this male, even with that very real threat upon her, the woman’s curiosity did not fail her.
500+
Her white eyes regarded the male. Those eyes the colour of blood were so intense and yet empty. It was not difficult for her to retain that visual contact, but it was difficult for her to see past the surface of that gaze. The she wolf shifted slightly, with effort and not without pain, though she did not allow her reactions to display such a thing. The warrior was uncomfortable with portraying weakness before this creature. She knew, reminding herself once more, that she would not be able to defend herself efficiently in such a state. And once more she reminded herself that the male continued to remain still. No attack ever came, and she did not even sense that one would come. At least not upon this day.
"And we do," the soft melody replied, "when our time has come." It was strange that the coyote should wish such a thing when life moved to that very state of Death. And perhaps, she considered, he meant that they should die at that very moment, should simply cease to exist. But that was a strange thing to wish as well. Nature created life, and in turn had created death. Without the former, the latter could not exist. It was the simple principle of dichotomies and paradoxes. The black warrior wondered at his reasoning, but she did not think that she could understand this mind as fully as she wished to. "Some give birth to a life so that life may persist. Others kill that life so that death may exist. And others yet.... they simply contribute nothing." And such creatures believed themselves to be the keepers of peace. But as a warrior, the woman could not understand how peace could be kept or even exist without war and violence. Such comprehension, however, was not a prerequisite to her existence.
"Perhaps my life will end in your jaws," the woman returned, her eyes holding a darkness that always accompanied Death. "Such a death would be beautiful indeed." The woad marked fae was a warrior, and she believed that to die in battle would be the most glorious way for her to die—with the songs of war ringing in her ears and the jaws of death finally closing upon her heart. It was the only way—she felt that it was inevitable. "And perhaps you will have earned my tail," she continued, believing it strange that he would desire such a thing. "But what happens to my body once life has ceased is not within my hands." And she fell silent for a moment, the white orbs watching the red eyes of the coyote. He was strange, unlike anyone she had ever met. The black fae was sure that he was mad, and yet there was a strange amount of control. "But why would you want my tail, of all things?" Even in the presence of this male, even with that very real threat upon her, the woman’s curiosity did not fail her.