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The arctic canine plodded forward, picking his way through the woods he'd slept in. It was mid-afternoon, though it was not unbearably hot today since there were plenty of clouds to absorb and obscure the sun's heat. Charon was glad for that, and he wondered just how long it would take him to get adjusted to these more temperate zones. He might even have to cut some of his Secui fur off, but that would be difficult if he couldn't find someone else who was willing to do it for him. He frowned, for a moment missing his family. That passed quickly enough as Char recalled that very closeness which had driven him from them in the first place. He passed by a brilliant blue lake, pausing long enough to look over it in wonder.
He hadn't taken too long; he had heard that there was a human city and that was where he was headed now. He saw it off in the distance, and altered his course slightly. He'd been drifting toward the beach and the heart of Dahlia de Mai territory, but now he skirted it for the moment, though Charon did not realized that land belonged to a pack just twenty feet to his right. As he walked, again he drifted, and unknowingly wandered over the border. He could certainly smell the canines, but he had no idea packs would regard him as a trespasser—the only lonely travelers the Amrithai family had ever received in their lonely corner of the world, they'd welcomed with open arms. His father Ezra had always told him that travelers might have something to trade or something to tell, but most of the ones that ended up in their sleepy, snowy corner of the arctic were severely lost.
The canine meandered slightly deeper into Dahlian territory, sniffing the ground curiously. His pace had lost that direction and meaning, and now he was more interested in the wolves around here rather than the city and its potential artifacts. Charon's pace had slowed considerably, and though he was only twenty or thirty feet inside of the Dahlian perimeter, he was still clearly on their land, unknown to Char. He was about to receive a brutal lesson in pack etiquette, but ever oblivious and ever happy, the big wolf merely kept his coal nose to the ground, sniffing and snorting as he tried to trail one of them to someplace meaningful. There were so many, though, it was so hard to tell where one began and one ended. Confused, he circled around for a minute, his head still to the ground, lost in trying to use his sense of smell.
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Yup, short is fine with me, and there’s no need to tire Cwmfen out too much, hah. And spear butts have that heavy metal thingy on them, so she could make it hurt to, OuO;; And sorry for the crap—I’ve been working on Cwmfen’s profile all day [updating and coding] and so I’m sort of pooped; I just wanted to get a reply up for you, ^=^;;
500+
The woad warrior traveled with ease, her wounds healed and allowing her movement. The wound upon her leg no longer caused her to limp, no longer disrupted the fluidity of her stride. But she knew that it was not fully healed. Not yet. When she pushed herself too much, she could feel it tug, could feel the pain threatening to fly loose like an arrow from its bow. But she knew as well that she must keep moving in order for it to heal without retaining the tightness. She did not want the wound to maim her movements, to render her any less than she should be. And so she traveled through the Dahlian territory, moving with those ethereal movements, her left hand going to support her belly to lessen the strain on her back. The litter moved within her, and she responded with a reassuring silence. There was nothing amiss within these lands. The Dream of prior nights had eased her mind, had allowed the light of the day to reach her darkened soul. If she could protect the pups from the darkness of her own soul, that would be enough. She could be content.
The song of the Raven Spear rose up. The woad bound maw twitched, the scent of some unfamiliar beast carried upon the wind. And those sharp ears and those acute eyes found him, a wolf sniffing the lands. He was well within the Dahlian boarders.
The white orbs flickered with a wild ferocity, their soft warmth hardening into white marble. The wild, hungry ring of the Raven Spear quieted to the murmur, the warning growl before the attack, although its song continued to flow with an undiluted strength. The woad tipped tail rose, flowing like a black river behind her. The fluid movements of the woad warrior were made to cease, and the Spear was set upon the earth in silence. And yet, in the warrior’s mind, it was as if from the single point where she had set the weapon upon the earth, a ripple of water spread forth, a single, deep strike sounding like the last beat of a dying heart. "You trespass, loner," the quiet voice sounded, and that melody, as her face, was strangely tranquil. It was only her eyes the belied that tranquility, and it was only the eyes that gave that warning.
The woad bound ears pressed forward, and she waited expectantly of him. He was a large wolf, she noted quietly. Those white orbs passed over his form briefly, assessing his strengths and weaknesses as well as her own strengths and weaknesses. He was an arctic wolf—she had contended with them many months ago when she had traveled upon the fields of ice. The lunar orbs returned to those cerulean eyes, holding his gaze with effortless ease. And she held that gaze with that ferocity, silently challenging him in that ancient way of wolves. "You show great disrespect to the lands and to the pack," that soft melody sounded again, dancing on the air like the silver leaves of autumn. "And for it, you are not welcome here." Her left hand went to support her swollen belly, but her eyes never left his. She was a warrior—she would keep that eye contact even if they fought, should it come to that. Her right hand was warm with the song of war, and the woad-bound fingers remembered the ways of the Spear as she touched its decorated shaft. A warning.
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[html] http://digital-bonsai.com/katew/rp/char ... _tears.jpg); background-color:#0E141B; background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:fixed; padding-top:246px; padding-left:15px; padding-right:15px; padding-bottom:10px;"> Aw, yeah I wouldn't want to cause her unnecessary trauma right now. -pats her- No problem, your post was great.  I love your style. And I assumed since the pups are viable and moving around, Cwmfen is visibly pregnant by now? I might be wrong, poke me and I'll edit it. X3
The pale canine was engrossed by the myriad of smells he scented on the ground, circling about. His white tail waved in the air behind him as he swung his big body to and fro, inhaling the smells clinging to the grass. There were a lot of other wolves here, and Charon was too eager to meet them. He had never been much of a tracker; in the frozen world, it was difficult to follow scent trails and he'd just never much practiced. So he kept circling around the same area, wandering around on clearly claimed lands without so much as a clue. A noise behind him startled him, and he whirled around, the fright apparent on his face. It wasn't so surprising that he should encounter someone here; after all, the whole area smelled like the wolves who lived here. The last thing Charon had expected, however, was anger, and he flatted his ears at the Dahlian wolf's words even as his deep indigo eyes studied her.
She was really pregnant. He knew because Narke had children after him, and he had watched her belly grow big with Soare and Iacho. Soare hadn't survived her first year, but Iacho had. He was always babied and treated like the royal prince of the family, stirring a small amount of jealousy in Char's chest. He was the eldest, firstborn son— he should have been doted on and treated like a damn prince. But his family had always simply seemed to prefer his youngest brother after Soare died of fever, and Char had never been able to rid himself of that resentment. Even though Char could clearly see the wolf was pregnant (and therefore probably taken by someone else) he couldn't help but notice how pretty she was. She had brilliantly white eyes and strange blue markings all over her raven fur, and she carried a weapon he recognized and feared: a spear.
Charon shivered at the sight of it, and instinctively balled up a bit, lowering his head and tucking his tail. The wolf continued to speak to him, and he listened carefully, horror registering in his head as he realized the great offense he'd committed. They weren't so friendly as his family here, apparently, and Char backed up a few feet, looking over at the gorgeous sable woman with a strange mix of fear and friendliness in his eyes. Maybe he could still charm his way out of this mess. He cleared his throat and hoped his voice wouldn't squeak, and spoke. "I'm sorry, I didn't know, I was just wanderin' around and I didn't know you didn't want me here," he said. Though his rumbly voice certainly didn't squeak or crack, the quick tempo of fear was clearly evident in it.
There was an uneasy grin across his soulful face, and those azure eyes pleaded with her to let him stay. All he wanted was to talk, meet some people, and be on his merry way. "I'm sorry, I'm from up North and my family was always real friendly to wanderers," he added, speaking again with that same anxious quickness. Char hardly realized he had nearly twenty pounds on her even in his Secui form, but even so, the weight advantage did little for him. He'd never been in a fight in his life, and the knobby scars on his shoulder were from a bear—one he'd run from as fast as his legs could carry him. Though there was no aggression in his body, the pale wolf obviously didn't realize all Cwmfen wanted was for him to go. So he stayed, half-crouched and gazing at her with little regard to wolf tradition; his eyes met hers for an instant and darted to the ground, unable to hold the gaze despite his ignorance of why. Thousands of years of instinct had ripped his indigo gaze from her pearly one and sent it straight back downward.
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Sorry about the delay~
Haha, thanks, ^=^;; Oh yeah, it’s definitely visible, ^=^; She’s due in a little more than a week~ And I have a feeling that this is going to be very short, OuO
And she’s not so much angry as just intense, if that makes sense >u<; Haha, and this is “emotional”-pregnant Cwmfen >__>
700+
The perpetrating wolf spun quickly to face her, surprised by her presence. Such swift movement indicated to the warrior that he had been unaware, and perhaps thusly he would have been unaware of his location. Or perhaps he was simply not expecting to find him as he stepped over the boarders, hoping to explore a land to which he did not have access. But the warrior set such suppositions aside. She knew the laws of these lands, and as Warrior and as Adonis, she had the duty to uphold such laws. This would not be the first time that a creature had stepped over the boarders of Dahlia de Mai. Nikolai Russo had done so, refusing to leave with the justification that he simply wanted to map the area; that was not enough to lay lax the laws of the lands, but the woad female had allowed him to linger nonetheless. Tokyo Chance had done similarly, although she now held their ranks. But the warrior would no longer be so lenient. The actions of her father upon the wolves of her pack had brought to the black fae’s attention the need to keep a vigilance upon the boarders, to be wary of those who came to the boarders.
The black fae would not tolerate the presence of this male within the Dahlian lands. Exceptions should not be made, she knew that and had known that long ago. The woad-marked female was no longer the young, innocent girl who had sought refuge within the Dahlian boarders. Many moons had passed since then, and she knew now that action must be took. And it was action that she knew how to take.
The light hued male looked upon her, and she saw both the fear and the friendliness that he held within his eyes. It was the friendliness that struck the black fae. Perhaps, in different circumstances, she would have lingered to speak with the stranger, but such a thing would not be allowed upon this day. Perhaps he could have been an amiable acquaintance, but today, the male was an enemy, and she would deal with him as she would deal with anyone else of such deemed titles. She trusted very few individuals, and she did not trust this male that had made himself known only a few moments prior. Cwmfen knew of the treacheries that lay within the hearts of all creatures, even within her own, and she did would not risk the safety of her pack upon the mere whims of that friendly gaze.
The calm waters of her soul shifted, a quiet ripple moving across its smooth, glassy surface. The Raven Spear hummed.
He claimed to be of the North. Briefly, the Caledonian-Korean wondered if she had crossed his path before, but his scent was not particularly familiar. "These boarders exist to keep others with out these lands," the soft melody countered with a strange patience once the male had ceased to speak. The white orbs regarded him, a ferocity rising with an unfamiliar celerity. The submissive posture. The fearful glance. They invoked within the female something very familiar, that instinctual expression, that natural response, that she had known upon her travels in the North. It was that lupine song that sung strongly within her, though not as strongly as it had with the pup-eater Brennt. This male had trespassed upon her lands, and his behavior, however benign it may have been, only provoked her belligerent nature. Perhaps it was the aggression that came with pregnant females, but there would be no friendly conversation.
"I explain that you are not welcome here," the soft melody replied suddenly, her soft lilt moving through the air. "You have broken this ancient law. I cannot suffer you to remain here." There was almost an apologetic note within that quiet melody as those white orbs watched the down-casted gaze of the secui male.
The Raven Spear snarled as she stepped forth, moving with a fluidity and celerity that belied her physical state. The Spear lifted from the earth, the hungry blade jabbed forth with that speed and precision. Its song rang like silver glass within her. The blade hungered for his shoulder, but the control of the warrior commanded for but a superficial wound, enough to draw blood but not enough to maim. She did not move to kill him for there was no need, and so she was careful, though her movements did not betray the care that she took with that strike. Immediately, as she stepped forward, the spear swung up as the blade sought to bite again, the heavy shoe swinging in an uppercut that was meant for his jaws. The song of war moved through her with a breathless exhilaration as the tranquility of her face was distorted with a snarl that was made to intimidate and to make manifest the ferocity within the woad warrior.
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[html] | http://digital-bonsai.com/katew/rp/char ... _tears.jpg); background-color:#0E141B; background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:fixed; padding-top:246px; padding-left:15px; padding-right:15px; padding-bottom:10px;"> Bahh, it took me much longer. x3 I was playing with pictures all day, I'm sorry. D: I imagine we should only have to do one more round, maybe two if you want to have Cwmfen watching him go and Charon running away really, really fast. XD Since this was such a short thread, we should have them meet again later (on neutral grounds! XD) and Char will be like ;; "you gonna beat me up again?!" But this should be later so Cwmfen can get settled with her kidlets. :3
Charon knew his apology would work. He had cheery, bright blue eyes and a loveable face, and he was big and cute and no one would ever refuse him, right? He waited patiently on the ground, not fully understanding why his body had to crouch down so much. For all his charisma and his suave ways, he really was uneducated in the ways of a real wolf. His family had adapted too much to the human lifestyle, living in homes and isolating themselves from the rest of the world. There was strange innocence in that, though in a situation with a more ruthless wolf, Char could have easily been killed for his offense.
Confusion showed on the pallid wolf's features as the raven femme stepped forward, closing the distance between them quickly. For her pregnancy, she moved amazingly fast. Char had remembered his mother rarely moving from the house when she had been with Soare and Icharo. He was dumbfounded for a moment, gaping at the white-eyed wolf as she spoke, overloaded with the whole situation. He couldn't work out that he ought to just make a damn run for it, and even with the spear in her hand Charon didn't think she'd actually swing the thing. He honestly thought maybe the pack provided it for protection, but now that she was up close and personal he wasn't so sure she needed it anyway.
Even as she spoke again it hadn't registered, and as he opened his mouth to reply, that spear came flying through the air and grazed his shoulder, eliciting a yelp from the wolf. He immediately grabbed at the wound with his hand, the whine already rising in his throat, too devastated by the first strike to even see the second one coming as it knocked him squarely in the jaw, the heavy thing striking with such precision that it toppled even the big Secui wolf, sending him backwards and dizzy. He immediately fell backwards, too stunned by the sudden attack to have even attempted a swing at the raven femme.
The moment he hit the ground he had curled into a ball, tucking his aching face between his paws as he tried to regroup. Dizziness clouded his brain as he lay there for a moment, blood leaking out of the wound slashed across his shoulder. His eyes almost seemed to roll for a minute, and he could not focus on the raven wolf before him. Char tried to speak, but his tongue was too twisted and he could only manage a half-garbled word that turned into a confused, hurt whine halfway through as he clutched his head. "Going," he finally managed to gasp, pulling himself up unsteadily to his feet facing away from the Adonis, showing his back to her.
He was halfway off the ground and he had taken a step when the dizziness hit him again, the pounding pain in his jawbone translating to an instant, massive headache that was blurring the edges of his vision and throwing his center of gravity off. He half-kneeled, half-lay on the ground for a moment and prayed the wolf wasn't coming up behind him to kill him, making a whole-hearted effort to pull himself up again. He stumbled a bit, the blurriness overtaking his whole eyes as he swayed, holding onto a tree for a minute. The silver wolf began to walk away, zig-zagging a bit and almost falling again, praying he was actually headed out of their territory. He didn't know; he was just trying to get away from her. Another knock on the head like that and Char would surely be out cold for a few days, at best.
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Again, sorry about the delay! Apparently I’ve been going out a lot lately, heh...
We can do one more round, and then I will have Cwmfen watch him go. After you read that post, if you could PM me that would be great, and then I’ll archive it. ^=^ But yeah, they should have one in the future, maybe where she meets him in an unclaimed territory, because then she could be more friendly with him, since it would be like that enemy | friend division thingy that she does, ^=^;;
700+
The songs of war, sung by the Spear and her soul, sung, and it was a song from which she had been deprived for too long. She breathed a sigh of relief, as if a great weight had suddenly been lifted from her and she could breathe once more. But that breath was lost in the quiet breaths that were released into the world, accenting each move having been given. Her white orbs shone brightly now, the sooty debris within her permitted to be set aside if only for the brief moments in which she would wield a weapon of war. There was fluidity, the memory within the sinew of her form remembering a familiar art and performing it with a precision. A soft but fierce smile—or perhaps it was hidden by the snarl displayed upon those jaws—graced the woad bound maw as she moved, somehow unburdened by the weight of her womb held by the left hand having been rendered lesser. The litter within her moved as if in response, and it seemed to the woad marked female that they, too, listened to the song that rang from her heart and were delighted.
And the soft sigh of her own delight fell again to the deaf world and upon the ears of the gods as the Frenzy of Nemain rose up within her, making savage her mind. But the lust for bloods was held back as she reminded herself that she would not kill this trespassing loner for the harmlessness that she felt within him. The woad-marked fae was a warrior, not a murderer.
The yelp that cut through the air was not as satisfying as the smooth bite of the Raven Spear as the flesh was split and the blood spilt. With the voice of her snarl having faded with his sharp cry, the tranquility of her face was regained and only the intensity within her white gaze betrayed the wild song that sang through her. As the Spear’s shoe struck him, the woad warrior pushed the weapon to complete the motion before she allowed it to rest, lowering it in that position that would allow her to strike again. The black fae simply stood there, her breathing slightly labored by the added weight, although the mind that had already accepted her Fate had forgotten what it was like to move without that burden.
He must not have been accustom to pain, the black fae thought as she watched him recoil from her attack, at least not this sort of pain. He was not a warrior, that much she knew. But Cwmfen had been careful to strike him in a relatively harmless place. Had she been more aggressive and had struck his temple, warrior or not surely he would have been dead. Of course, she did not doubt that her attacks would have elicited a painful wound; he simply did not respond to her attacks in like kind, and so he must not have been a warrior. Because this light male from the North held no apparent malice within him, she did not strike or kill him as instinct bid but waited for him to respond, her stance ready and yet relaxed, for too much tension would only cause one to lock up. The white orbs observed him from a distance, calculating each subtle movement that he made as if it would grow into an attack. The white-eyed female growled in quiet warning, but no move was made that was malignant.
In response to his voice finally having spoken, the woad-marked fae simply snarled: Then get out. An aggressive command. The Raven Spear, held horizontally at her hip, ringing in agreement. And the Spear was still hungry. As he rose and turned his back to her, the snarl made itself manifest upon her face, distorting the calm features, but she was silent. And the Dahlian Warrior did not aid him in his struggle but followed closely behind, ensuring that he would leave. His path was unsteady—perhaps she had hit him harder than she thought, although she did not think so. He seemed to speak without pain, which meant that his jaw had not been broken. As the light hued male stumbled again, Cwmfen reached out to catch him under his arm before pushing him roughly over the boarders. Perhaps he would think twice before trespassing. Perhaps he would not even think to do such a thing again.
"Next time, show courtesy," the quiet melody bid, as if in farewell.
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