04-16-2009, 04:54 PM
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I’m going to go ahead and reply, just to keep this thread moving, since it is a joining thread; but Palindrome can come in again any time, ^=^
500+
As the warrior held her there, the smell of fear hit her like a wall. But it wasn’t the sort of fear that accompanied cowards, necessarily, the female decided. It was the sort of fear of one that may simply be facing death. Cwmfen was not a cruel creature, but she was a warrior—Head Warrior—and charged with the protection of the pack. Svara and herself had already been attacked, and with Corvus’ appearance, there was no doubt in her mind that there would be more to come. And perhaps this female was simply ignorant of pack laws, but the laws of the boarder were binding and as basic as it got in a wolf’s instinctual library. Already the black fae had had to deal with the ignorance of wolves. Nikolai, the Russian boy, immediately came to her mind, as he usually did. But Leroy, Svara’s lover, had done the same thing. The warrior had not attacked them, but her tolerance of such things was growing low, and perhaps this female today would be the first to experience what the laws of the pack would move the warrior to do.
But the blue eyed female seemed to realize her mistake, and her posture immediately changed. At least this female had the wisdom to respond in such a way; the two males who had committed the same crime had shown no acknowledgement of their wrongdoing. And perhaps because of this, Cwmfen withdrew her weapon, accepting the submissive behavior with her own raised tail. But her posture was almost relaxed as her tail moved slightly behind her, carving a graceful, sinuous path in the air. The white orbs shifted from the eyes of the other to the outstretched hands which claimed to hold the gift. The warrior considered it for a moment, as if curious. The rabbit was freshly killed, the scent of the blood still warm in the air. But there was another scent on it. The black fae could not recognize it, but she thought that there was a scent that held Dahlia’s unique mark. But then that scent was gone, taken by the wind and covered by the rabbit. Satisfied, the warrior reached out, taking the gift silently in her hand. For a moment, she had wanted to take it with her mouth, but she would not have been able to talk while holding the carcass in such a way.
"Thank you. I accept your gift and appeasement," the alto melody sang formally. Then, she took the time to actually look at this female. (For a warrior, it was easy to see only an enemy.) The girl wore a dress, a thing that Cwmfen could not do, and she wondered what the material felt like. But the curious female refrained from reaching out; perhaps, if they became better acquainted, she would be able to do so. If not, there would be no real loss. The eyes were perhaps the most remarkable with their bright clarity and a blue like a precious stone. "As for a home, Dahlia is still welcoming those who wish to join, should they prove themselves. However, your quest does not excuse you from trespassing beyond the boarders; we do not look kindly on such transgressions." There was an obvious warning held within that soft, amiable melody. "I am Cwmfen nic Graine, Adonis and Head Warrior of Dahlia de Mai." Her introduction required the introduction of the other.
I’m going to go ahead and reply, just to keep this thread moving, since it is a joining thread; but Palindrome can come in again any time, ^=^
500+
As the warrior held her there, the smell of fear hit her like a wall. But it wasn’t the sort of fear that accompanied cowards, necessarily, the female decided. It was the sort of fear of one that may simply be facing death. Cwmfen was not a cruel creature, but she was a warrior—Head Warrior—and charged with the protection of the pack. Svara and herself had already been attacked, and with Corvus’ appearance, there was no doubt in her mind that there would be more to come. And perhaps this female was simply ignorant of pack laws, but the laws of the boarder were binding and as basic as it got in a wolf’s instinctual library. Already the black fae had had to deal with the ignorance of wolves. Nikolai, the Russian boy, immediately came to her mind, as he usually did. But Leroy, Svara’s lover, had done the same thing. The warrior had not attacked them, but her tolerance of such things was growing low, and perhaps this female today would be the first to experience what the laws of the pack would move the warrior to do.
But the blue eyed female seemed to realize her mistake, and her posture immediately changed. At least this female had the wisdom to respond in such a way; the two males who had committed the same crime had shown no acknowledgement of their wrongdoing. And perhaps because of this, Cwmfen withdrew her weapon, accepting the submissive behavior with her own raised tail. But her posture was almost relaxed as her tail moved slightly behind her, carving a graceful, sinuous path in the air. The white orbs shifted from the eyes of the other to the outstretched hands which claimed to hold the gift. The warrior considered it for a moment, as if curious. The rabbit was freshly killed, the scent of the blood still warm in the air. But there was another scent on it. The black fae could not recognize it, but she thought that there was a scent that held Dahlia’s unique mark. But then that scent was gone, taken by the wind and covered by the rabbit. Satisfied, the warrior reached out, taking the gift silently in her hand. For a moment, she had wanted to take it with her mouth, but she would not have been able to talk while holding the carcass in such a way.
"Thank you. I accept your gift and appeasement," the alto melody sang formally. Then, she took the time to actually look at this female. (For a warrior, it was easy to see only an enemy.) The girl wore a dress, a thing that Cwmfen could not do, and she wondered what the material felt like. But the curious female refrained from reaching out; perhaps, if they became better acquainted, she would be able to do so. If not, there would be no real loss. The eyes were perhaps the most remarkable with their bright clarity and a blue like a precious stone. "As for a home, Dahlia is still welcoming those who wish to join, should they prove themselves. However, your quest does not excuse you from trespassing beyond the boarders; we do not look kindly on such transgressions." There was an obvious warning held within that soft, amiable melody. "I am Cwmfen nic Graine, Adonis and Head Warrior of Dahlia de Mai." Her introduction required the introduction of the other.
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