Back to the beginning - Printable Version +- 'Souls IPB Archive (November 2007–October 2012) (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb) +-- Forum: Dead IC (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=110) +--- Forum: Dead Topics (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=21) +--- Thread: Back to the beginning (/showthread.php?tid=18471) |
- Bris Stormbringer - 06-15-2011 OOC: No table for now, till I get my profile thread reinstated. Besides, I sort of like the simplicity of not having one. ^^ [html] Her return had been quiet. No one save Nayru knew yet that the white woman was back in Dahlia, as far as she knew. Of course, it wouldn't take too long for her unique scent to begin being noticed, but Bris wasn't ready for a full reunion just yet. The Stormbringer already knew that Ascher and Shiloh had left the lands, though she was unsure of their destination. Drey was still missing, his scent having vanished from the entirety of the Nova Scotian area almost completely. He hadn't been at home with the rest of Crow's pack either. Conor, the reason for Bris' own departure from Dahlia, was also still nowhere to be found. The ghostly woman hadn't wanted to believe the worst, but it was becoming more and more a reality every day. To make matters even worse, there was no sign in Dahlia of Bris' young daughter. She'd traced the old scent of Eclipse outside the packland, finding much fresher signs of the youngster around the outskirts of Crimson Dreams. She had warred within herself for hours at the implications of such a discovery. Bris had, for all intents and purposes, abandoned her daughter months ago. She was a failure and a sham, and Eclipse was more then likely far happier in Crimson Dreams than she'd ever be with Bris.[/html] - Saluce Tremblay - 06-18-2011 Saluce had come across the scent just as easily as a pup would trail a rabbit. And it intrigued him, Bris was back but he didn’t detect any hint of her daughter and he had come to expect no hint of Conor’s scent. So much of his past few months had been devoted to tracking down the trio that her presence within dahlia almost angered him. From everything he could piece together she had abandoned her daughter and went off in search of the once bastion of light Conor Soul. It displeased him greatly, but he also had his own faults to juggle as well when it came to damning others for their sins. So his befuddled mind tried to remain calm as he left his home to go looking for the elusive white woman. Something told him he might not like what he found but it mattered little to him now. He had went off in search of Conor wanting the truth of his disappearance and had discovered more than he thought would have been possible for the man. Some of which he would keep silently between him and Nayru. Bris didn’t need to know about his illness and what it had done, nor did she need to know that his demise might have been given out by the fruit of such evil. But she did need to know that her once lover was dead and was never coming back. It was no hard to find her, he padded along today without his sophisticated armor, weapon or horse, his paws struck the earth with the impressive frame of his secui form, weapon enough for trotting around within Dahlian borders. For those of them who remembered the white lady before all this went down it was almost heart breaking to think of her story. But no one was free from their choices, her choices had led her to abandon a great gift of life, abandon her pack in search of a lost cause and now she had returned. His eyes spied her form at the tree house, somehow he thought it appropriate, as much as he wanted to hate her for abandoning eclipse, he couldn’t shake the memory of her free’ing him from certain death. A quick shift was all that was required to stand back upon his impressive optime form, his long legs carrying him the distance between them before his voice finally broke through the silence. “And there was a white snowflake dancing along the wind, carried either violently across the snow dunes of time, or dancing lazily amid a gentle current of solace.” He offered no smile or warm greeting, the rosary danced across his chest with the rhythm of his breathes before his voice once again rose from his chest. This time no interesting semi poem exited it, only a phrase that drove home the one thing she was sure to hate him for. “Where is eclipse?” |