06-18-2011, 05:21 PM
ooc 3+. Sal Palus.
For the first time in her life, the little princess was alone. Not alone in the truest of senses, as she’d been indoctrinated into a new pack, the members of which she moved about like a ghost, only approaching when she thought she could be of some service. And she’d spent previous long weeks in solitude while skulking about the borders of enemy clans during her time in the ranks of Rechtsfolge bei Tod. However, her departure to the new world marked the first time she found herself without a domineering personality baring down on her, giving her constant cues as to what she was to do, want, and be. Personal freedom was as intoxicating as it was daunting.
So it was no small surprise that when Giza found herself with spare time on her hands, she didn’t wait a moment’s pause in filling it with attempts to prove herself useful. Her near encounter with the clan to the west weighed heavy on her mind. She’d heard they were new and little else, but saw only opportunity this seeming lack of information. Before she’d even consider approaching strange canids, she would have to familiarize herself with the tracts of land between her mark and her home. She never approached a task riddled with that much risk without a number of planned escape routes. This wasn’t choice, but necessity. At the first sign of aggression, she would turn tail and flee, and a little inside knowledge could mark the difference as to whether that flight ended in narrow escape or death.
She stalked low in the marshes in her lupus form. It was her shape of choice while on reconnaissance. She could move faster, lie lower, move in near silence. As she hunched at a ridge of water where a few fish swam in the transparent waters, one her oversized ears turned in the direction of faint encroaching sound. Her large eyes darted toward the source, beyond the grasses, in the distance, she saw a heart stalling smear of golden bronze. Who had seen the other first, she wasn’t certain, but she’d been downwind of the Inferni, so that she was upwind of the unknown. Giza had been particularly careful to avoid the Aquila in the short time since they’d first met, but there was hardly any running now. She snorted lowly, bracing herself as she shifted and righted herself with caution. Though she stood on her willowy legs, the sleek wetness lining her palms and front evidenced that minutes ago, she’d been on her fours.
For the first time in her life, the little princess was alone. Not alone in the truest of senses, as she’d been indoctrinated into a new pack, the members of which she moved about like a ghost, only approaching when she thought she could be of some service. And she’d spent previous long weeks in solitude while skulking about the borders of enemy clans during her time in the ranks of Rechtsfolge bei Tod. However, her departure to the new world marked the first time she found herself without a domineering personality baring down on her, giving her constant cues as to what she was to do, want, and be. Personal freedom was as intoxicating as it was daunting.
So it was no small surprise that when Giza found herself with spare time on her hands, she didn’t wait a moment’s pause in filling it with attempts to prove herself useful. Her near encounter with the clan to the west weighed heavy on her mind. She’d heard they were new and little else, but saw only opportunity this seeming lack of information. Before she’d even consider approaching strange canids, she would have to familiarize herself with the tracts of land between her mark and her home. She never approached a task riddled with that much risk without a number of planned escape routes. This wasn’t choice, but necessity. At the first sign of aggression, she would turn tail and flee, and a little inside knowledge could mark the difference as to whether that flight ended in narrow escape or death.
She stalked low in the marshes in her lupus form. It was her shape of choice while on reconnaissance. She could move faster, lie lower, move in near silence. As she hunched at a ridge of water where a few fish swam in the transparent waters, one her oversized ears turned in the direction of faint encroaching sound. Her large eyes darted toward the source, beyond the grasses, in the distance, she saw a heart stalling smear of golden bronze. Who had seen the other first, she wasn’t certain, but she’d been downwind of the Inferni, so that she was upwind of the unknown. Giza had been particularly careful to avoid the Aquila in the short time since they’d first met, but there was hardly any running now. She snorted lowly, bracing herself as she shifted and righted herself with caution. Though she stood on her willowy legs, the sleek wetness lining her palms and front evidenced that minutes ago, she’d been on her fours.
