09-28-2009, 09:06 AM
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OOC: ::Word Count:: 600+  The day had been quiet and uneventful for the pearl femme, as she had spent most of it within her den, comfortably relishing the liberties of her Optime form. She had busied herself with ordering her few belongings, hoping she would be able to think of a way in which to arrange them so as to bring a bit of colour to the bare space. The few items that she most prized sat neatly in a hollow in the den's wall, where she had tirelessly caked the soil so as to form three small shelves. The topmost one was home to the few books she owned, as well as a couple of copies she had bought from Halifax on one of her journeys there, most of which were volumes on stories and Icelandic folk tales. The middle shelf held an array of human objects she had stumbled upon both in Greenland, as well as here. At the heart of the row of possessions lay an old music box, whose tune had long since faded, but which had an ingenious switch which caused the ballerina in the centre to slowly spin, as if pirouetting. The drawer beneath the platform on which the ballerina stood, the paint on her dress and ballet shoes chipped to reveal the plastic beneath, held the few items of jewelry she possessed: her starfish-shaped earring, the colourful beads she wore in her hair and a leather string tied around a wolf claw: Mörker's. The bottom shelf held only a few pieces of paper and blunt pencils, as well as yellowing envelopes she had found in the shops in the city and which she used to practice her writing. Now, after finishing her redecorating, she sat down in the centre of her circular den, on top of a frayed old woolen blanket she had carried with her from Greenland. She was keeping herself occupied with tying the beads in her hair and putting the starfish-shaped earring in her ear. She felt a strange kind of peace wash over her-- as uneventful as the day had been, she almost felt something upon the air that beckoned this tranquility that her body accepted without comment, almost uncharacteristically relishing the slow passing of time. It was in this lazy silence that she picked up the howl and finally understood the whispers she had heard upon the wind. Exactly one year ago, Crimson Dreams had been formed. The strangeness of the thought enveloped her as she crawled out of her den and stood on two legs, letting the soft breeze caress her short hair. Her pace was steady and assured as she took towards the Manor, a vague sense of panic reaching her at the thought that she would greet her pack mates in something other than her usual Lupus form. The thought got slowly pushed away, however, as the dim lights of the candles Anu had lit formed small, shaky specks against the canopy of the horizon. As she approached the small gathering, she registered the presence of the two leaders, as well as that of Jazper. There was also another wolf with them, which she did not know. Entering the small circle formed by the few Crimson Dreamers that had arrived up until now, she heard Jazper's words to Savina and smiled, wondering idly how many more children would be forming the new generations of the pack. The scene was quiet, the flickering light of the candles reminding her of her ancestor's rituals. It seemed someone had brought drinks, and she felt a bit embarrassed for not bringing something of her own. The only thing she had to share were the stories she knew. Feeling a bit put out by this, not knowing whether this was the time, or the place for them, she sat down on the cool grass, her feet bent under her, and hoped the small assembly would gain in numbers shortly. It didn't feel right to interrupt the steady, tranquil silence just yet. |
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