the moon went up and I went out of my head

Larkspur D'Angelo · 02-11-2010, 04:56 PM

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In Character

White scars, burnt with the precision of Misery’s delicate, thin fingers, followed the muscular flow of Lark’s forearms. They spoke of the prophecy that he would not speak aloud, and spoke in strange signs and voices that even Larkspur could not know. He knew the voice of the can tah, and he knew the voice of the ini. In his palm the leather straps shifted, pulled at as the horse, unused to an unfamiliar wolves scent, began backing away. Larkspur held her firm, lifting his other hand to settle the beast. She would likely never take another rider, and he would never expect her to. Even if she couldn’t sense Haku Soul’s wickedness, he could sense that the male wolf was dominant, dangerous.

A singular word was all he needed. “Their size’s doubled since th’war began. Your wolves hurt ‘em, but they ain’t hurtin’ enough. They’re lookin' for a fight,” he added, having read it in the gray coyote’s face even if she hadn’t said it. They were angry, and they needed blood. They had gotten more violent, as proven by his discovery when he had wandered along their borders. “One of yer wolves is dead. Tan n’white feller. They got his head on a pike.” It was being picked by the ravens, but the fur was obvious enough. While he was certain the coyotes had much more goings on, it was their size that had been most impressed upon him. Especially because he had never heard of any group (coyotes, especially) growing to such proportions. Kaena hadn’t simply told him this, she had been boasting about the fact—which told Larkspur it had to be something special.

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