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- Cwmfen nic Graine - 03-02-2009
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This is set sometime after she gets beat up by Hybrid. I’m not sure yet exactly where she gets hurt and how its going to be fixed, so I’ll just be vague... She’s also supposed to be rescued by Bane, and I don’t know how that goes either, so this will just be super vague...>___<
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The female lay in her den. It was dark there and cold, just as the world with out. Her sleep was uncomfortable, and her dreams were strangely empty, as empty as the darkness that surrounded her. Her body was still, for it was still painful for her to move, but she was healing quickly. And yet, not quickly enough. The warrior was frustrated, and she could not help but feel a tinge of humiliation. But the wolf was not over proud, and so her pride did not hurt so much as her body did. But her mind labored over the scene repeatedly, and she did not know how she could have let this happen. A simple, careless mistake, she had always told herself, could lead to defeat. And so it had. But that coyote. Inferni. It was that creature and creatures like him that deserved to feel her teeth. Next time, she would not be defeated. It was not necessarily vengeance that the black fae sought so much as to improve herself, for in her eyes, she had failed herself most. And Dahlia too.
Her mind, however, now turned to the male that had saved her. The warrior was in debt, but she did not know how to repay him.... He intrigued her deeply. It had been the same male that she had met in Halifax and that night she had lain with him. It was strange that the female had met him again, and she wished that it had been under different circumstances. But she never regretted it. With a sigh, the female slowly lifted herself upon her shoulder. Perhaps she would see him once more.... Or perhaps she was alone on that hope. At times, the female confused herself, for she never sought such companionship. She did not want the burden of it, for she wished for true freedom. And such freedom she could only obtain through solitude. Through her art of war. And yet, it was nice to share a night with other, in the care of another, in the arms of another.
The female pushed herself up and crawled through the tunnel of her den. She clenched her teeth through the pain believing that her tolerance would strengthen her. It would have been easier if she were in her lupus form, but, because of the wounds, she had had to remain in the optime form. The woad warrior paused as her face emerged from the earth. The cool air was refreshing, like the ice waters of the brooks in summertime. With a final grunt she rose from her place and stood and, with a great effort, stood firmly. She listened to the song of the night and allowed it to soothe her. When she had been calmed and her heartbeat was normalized, she made her way slowly to the clearing in which she often practiced. Somewhere in the night, the Raven crawed, and she cursed it for its indifference. But setting those differences aside, the female settled into the grass. Perhaps she would sleep in the open with the grass as her blanket and the sky as her roof.
- Dutch Biler'a - 03-07-2009
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The brute was frowning. His frown was deep in his face, wrinkles appearing right above his eyebrows. His arms were crossed tightly, pulling against his bare chest. The brute's throat was tight and in a tight knot. It was as if he could not speak without attacking the closest thing to him. He had his eyes narrowed that they were tiny slits compared to anything else on his face. The male felt humiliated and defeated. But he was confused. Dutch had gotten the message from a dream. They meant nothing to him, nor would they ever. The brute could not make sense out of any of it. He was beginning to wonder if he had eaten a bad rabbit the night before.
Dutch sighed. Of course he hadn't eaten a rabbit! He kept trying to reassure himself, but it was only making it worse. He was mad at himself. Mad at himself for not waking up before the dream ended. Mad at himself for ever having the dream. Mad at himself for not being able to figure out what it meant. It was too confusing. Dutch was giving up on everything. But why? A dream meant nothing compared to the other matters in the world. Dutch should be focusing on more important issues, rather than a dream. He was getting worked up about nothing. It was pointless. Meaningless.
Dutch concentrated on making sense out of it. In his dream, he remembered, he was being chased by something. Something big, black and loud. It was roaring at him, demanding that he change his ways and become kind to others. Dutch blinked. Was that what this was about? How he behaved to other wolves? Instantly, the anger and frustration flooded out of him. It was over powered by hard, loud laughter. He didn't pause for a breath of air. Instead, his laughter continued on for a good few minutes. Once Dutch was controled and had calmed down, he shook his head, smiling. What a fool he was! He really was a fool. The brute chuckled softly, ready to shaken by hysterical laughter again. Yet, it didn't come. He wondered why. No. Last time Dutch had started thinking deeply, it had made his thoughts run wild. He didn't need that. Not now.
The male yawned. It was a chilly evening and he was obviously tired. His narrowed eyes were now large and open, covered in the desire to sleep. The brute stood up, stretched and than sat back down again. He was lying on a hill, far from any of the pack members. Dutch didn't want to deal with any of them. He was much more happy sitting on a grassy hill, the stars and night sky above him. He leaned back, lying completely still. The stars twinkled and danced around him. Dutch, realized, it was irritating. It was as if they were mocking him. He swatted his arms at the stars, pretending to clutch them in his hands and squeeze them.
Dutch was entertained for a moment, but then smelled something. It was the wolf that he had encountered when he joined the pack. Cwmfen, he reckoned. He instantly shot up from the grass, standing on his feet. Cwmfen?! What was she doing here? Dutch rolled his eyes, realizing that this was pack land and she was completely allowed here. She was one of the highest ranks, for heaven's sake! Looking around, Dutch spotted her. She was lying on the grass, just like he had been. Walking slowly up to her, Dutch wondered what to say. He was too tired to think of anything clever or flirty. But he knew he had to think of something that would make Cwmfen notice him. Everyone noticed Dutch.
Dutch reached Cwmfen, flashing a large grin. "Hullo, Cwmfen. Are we going to play now?" The brute chuckled lightly, eyes dancing with playfulness. Screw being tired; the male had it all the time.
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- Cwmfen nic Graine - 03-07-2009
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You’re fine! ^=^
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The sound of approach stirred the tranquil waters of her mind, forcing the black fae to open her eyes. She exhaled quietly. The sound of that approach was unmasked, as if it wished to be made known. The female did not recognize the sound of the creature’s footfall, nor could she scent it for the wind softly stole the scent from her. But, for the unhurried nature of its step and the absence of stealth and care, the female did not think that this creature was an intruder. There was a trust that the female had for every wolf of Dahlia de Mai, and she would not betray that trust by showing wariness in their approach. Instead, the female remained motionless. And it would have been difficult for her to respond swiftly anyway. That was the most frustrating thing about defeat, she thought. It was frustrating to have her movements hindered. She would lose several weeks of hard practice so that her body would heal. But it was better to wait now and to allow the healing to proceed properly. And the female was accustom to being patient.
The bass voice gave his identity away immediately. The female turned her head to look at him, the grass rustling in her ears as she moved. The white orbs found those yellow ones, and the fierce intensity of that white gaze had not lessened even with her weakened state. With a light, knowing smile, the female slowly rolled over so that she lay upon her stomach facing him. She was careful to prop herself up, placing most of her weight on her uninjured left shoulder. The long scar down her back was perhaps most noticeable, but it had already begun to heal nicely thanks to the doctor; it would remain visible if only through the rise of skin that would heal it. Nevertheless, the woad warrior kept her movements unhurried so as to not agitate that wound. The skin about it was tight as she finally found a comfortable pose. The black fae exhaled softly as if releasing the tension and pain of her body. The black, woad marked tail flickered dangerously behind her. It was often said that animals were most feral when wounded. It was so with this warrior.
"Biler’a," the Adonis greeted in her quiet, alto melody. She didn’t know why, but she preferred to use his surname. The white orbs considered the male with her modest, yet calculating gaze. "What sort of play, entertainer?" The vocative that she chose alluded to the night she had allowed him to cross the boarders of Dahlia. Superb entertainment, he had said. A light smile flickered across her maw. She wondered if he would be able to entertain her, or if she would even be able to ‘play’. And yet, the female was still unsure of what the implications of that word was. And perhaps that was what interested her for now.
The female’s woad bound hand rose to cradle her chin as if demanding something of his presence. The female was a solitary creature, but she accepted his company if only to distract her from her thoughts.
- Dutch Biler'a - 03-10-2009
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[/html]Sorry it's so short and late. I haven't really had much life and energy lately. DxThe brute chuckled, looking into the female's eyes. She was so unique in personality and appearance. He could alsi sense an interesting history beneath Cwmfen's exterior. She looked so complicated, yet close. Almost like a blind man trying to read a book. He had all of the materials and information he needed, but it was impossible for Dutch to actually do anything. Dutch blinked, straying his gaze from the female. There it went again: thinking deep thoughts only brought confusion and trouble.
"You know what I want. You've had experience with it before, haven't you?" Dutch whispered, smiling grimly. She must of known what the brute wanted; he thought of it very obvious and simple. Grim thoughts and imaginations filled the man's mind, a smile of anticipation appearing on his clouded face.
- Cwmfen nic Graine - 03-10-2009
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You’re fine, ^=^
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The male, Biler’a, looked directly into her eyes. The female met his gaze effortlessly, and her own held a weight and ferocity. The female may have been timid in social situations, but the warrior had no difficulty asserting herself. And this Filix was being quite bold, so openly challenging his superior in that old lupine way, one that was unmistakable. But the yellow-eyed male was not hostile, simply arrogant, and overtly so, the female thought. Yet, because of the challenge’s passive nature, the female chose to ignore it. And despite her diminished physical state, the female’s resolve was not weak. That was not to say that she allowed his gaze to deter her, for she held the intensity of her gaze with that graceful ease until that yellow gaze strayed from her own.
Then the male whispered, smiled. The woad warrior lifted a brow as an amused smile flickered across her maw. “So direct,” the female murmured quietly. She was silent for a moment, considering him before nodding almost imperceptibly to herself. “I know,” the black fae agreed quietly. She paused again, as if considering answering the latter inquiry. “I have, once or twice.” It was twice, to be precise, but the male did not need to know that. And then the silence between them filled once more as she allowed him to wait for her answer. But it was already made.
“I won’t give it to you,” the warrior responded quietly, but the amused smile was still on her maw. She considered the male once more, her white eyes traveling freely over him. When she had assessed his physique enough, her gaze returned to the yellow eyes. “If you need a reason, I can give you one,” the female continued. “For one, you’re not my type. I’m drawn to the darkness in people—” perhaps because of her father “—but I prefer a refined darkness.” From what she had seen, he was crude. She did not see gentility in him, only that uncontrolled cocky demeanor. “And even if my body were hungry for it, you do not intrigue me to that extent.” The warrior paused, as if debating whether to continue. “But, if you have not noticed, my body cannot handle such intimacy. Why do you think that I have not risen to greet you, Filix?” His lack of observation surprised the female. The female, as if in the voicing of it, felt suddenly tired, and she let herself fall completely to the earth. Perhaps, if the male had wanted to, he could have tried to take his pleasures upon her. But to do so would be a mistake.
The female did not roll over onto her back, but stayed upon her stomach, for the long wound there would have been agitated by the grass. With a sigh, the female released some of the tension in her muscles, but the dull pain of her body throbbed and pulsed incessantly. “I’m sorry to spoil your plans for the evening, Biler’a,” the alto melody called out. “Perhaps there’s something else that we can do for one another?”
- Dutch Biler'a - 03-10-2009
[html][/html]He heard her reply and a deep frown formed across his face. It was deep, almost like stone, and he took a few moments to just look into Cwmfen's eyes. All that he wanted was to touch her - so much that it was hard for him to refrain from doing just so - but knew that it was impossible. He may be a crude, foolish, and arrogant, but he had intelligence on his side. Dutch was also dedicated. He was commited to getting what he wanted. Right now, he wanted Cwmfen.
"I may be an arrogant asshole, but I won't hurt you. I promise," The brute murmured firmly, eyes and face both unreadable. He had meant it whole heartedly; Dutch would never hurt her. His desires, he assumed, were just too much right now. He let out a sigh, hoping that all of his stress and anger would just fly away. It was helping no one.
Dutch looked back into the eyes of the female next to him. He knew she saw an ungrateful beast. That's what he saw when he looked at his reflection, too. Biting his lip, the brute realized he was holding back everything that had been boiled up inside him for so long. He didn't mean to be rude or mean; he just happened. It was Dutch's nature.
"You're... hurt?" The male whispered, looking her over. Yes, she obviously looked out of shape, tired and a little beat up. "You okay?" Dutch replied, this time louder. He felt strange. Not mean or anything like what he normally felt. But... clean. Free. Able to think and say whatever he wanted and not worry about what others might think. The brute wondered if this was what nice people felt like. It was an odd feeling that he had never experienced before and it confused him.
Continuing on, Dutch opened his mouth to speak again. "Another way you can please me, Miss nic Graine, is to tell me why you think you have ruined my evening. In fact, you have made it better in such a manner that I cannot explain it," He inched away to leave Cwmfen alone, but he decided not to. What would the female think of him then? Letting out yet another strained sigh, the brute collapsed on the ground.
- Cwmfen nic Graine - 03-11-2009
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A frown had deepened upon his maw as she had spoken. As the white orbs met that yellow gaze, she thought she saw the depths of his desire, and those depths were great. But the female simply did not reciprocate that desire. The black fae’s mind wandered to the day she had encountered Brennt, several days before the coyote’s near fatal attack upon her. He had desired the same thing of her that Dutch desired of her now. She had tried to civilly, kindly, gently refuse. But, upon turning, he must have misread her intentions for he had attempted to mount her. And that situation had not ended well. Instead of a friend the warrior had made an enemy. It had been a pity, for he seemed like such a nice creature. It was that dullness, she thought, that she had seen in his eyes. The bruises that Brennt had given to her hips as he had attempted to mount were hidden and forgotten by the pains of these newer, fresher cuts. But she did not forget that lesson. She wondered now if the Felix would be so bold.
His words, quiet and firm, made the Adonis smile. “I believe you, Biler’a,” the female replied quietly, even if only because it would have been foolish for him to do otherwise to another pack member. “I do not mean to criticize the quality of your character. I only mean that you have not interested me in that way.” Perhaps he needed clarity. The warrior did not mean to offend the male, if she had, for she did not wish conflict or discomfort upon another packmember. But the male had been direct in his approach and request, and she had been direct in her refusal.
It seemed, then, that the yellow-eyed male had taken notice of her condition. She nodded to his first inquiry, then gave a curt, almost whispered, “Yes,” that she was fine. It was perhaps not quite true, and she was perhaps in more pain than she would liked to admit. But Cwmfen was a wolf and a warrior, and she did not allow herself to show great weakness before the other. She could endure pain, but at times the pain of these hurts was too great to endure without displaying her discomfort. She was glad that for now, that incessant throbbing ache was bearable, and she did not have to let this male know how susceptible to an attack she was. So far she was living and healing, and that was good enough for now.
“I’m glad that you have not taken offense to my refusal,” the alto melody replied with a light smile. “I had merely thought that, with your desires left unfulfilled, that you would leave to find it somewhere else or have to wait until someone came who could give it.” The white orbs watched as the male collapsed near her in the grass. “Are you staying to keep me company, Biler’a?” the warrior inquired. “You will not find much entertainment here, I’m afraid....”
- Dutch Biler'a - 03-11-2009
[html][/html]The male smiled lightly, a smile sincere and meaningful. It was a smile he rarely used, if ever. Dutch heard Cwmfen say something quietly and tightened his grip on the earth beneath him. He pulled the green grass out from the ground without trying. Biting down on his jaw, the brute flung the grass behind him quietly. It was an odd desire that he had for Cwmfen; both physically and mentally. Dutch was frustrated that he wasn't getting what he wanted, especially since everything came so easily to him.
"What does interest you? I'll change. I'll do anything. Anything at all. Name it, and it'll be done. Please! I won't just leave you after. I would hope you would know that by now," Dutch replied, almost yelling. His voice was strained and off pitch, almost like an untuned piano. The male's usually rumbling, bass voice was now high pitched and all-around strange. His eyes were wild and confused, rapidly searching the female's face. Noticing nothing, Dutch shut his eyes and sat quietly for a few seconds.
"Let me help. I'm useless, yes, but I know something about healing and herbs. Comes in handy while you're all alone with your father," The brute murmured, breaking his agonizing silence. He opened his eyes, looking over Cwmfen. She looked as if she was in pain but trying to hide it. "I'll help. That is, I suppose, if you want me to," Dutch realized this conversation with the Adonis had been the nicest and most sincere moment of his life. It was both shocking and unexpected.
Dutch smiled, a large grin taking the place of his puckered, tight lips. "I do not need entertainment, Cwmfen. Just sitting here with you is all of the entertainment I need." The young Filix kept that grin on his voice, awaiting the female's response.
- Cwmfen nic Graine - 03-12-2009
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The female accepted the male’s smile as she rested her head upon her arms. The pained warrior let out contented sigh when the male spoke again. His voice was strange, his words stranger upon the woad bound ears. The black fae lifted her head, watching with calmly, her tranquil expression unmoved by his outburst. But internally, the female was quite taken aback by the male, for she had not expected such a thing. His voice was loud, strained, but his face seemed confused and wild. And then he fell silent, closing his eyes, hiding them from her searching orbs. The female was silent, almost confused by his sudden change. But finally she said, “Do you desire me so much that you seek to change yourself?” and the alto voice was almost tentative. But she did not understand it. “Please do not beg to know such things. It does not become you.” The female seemed unhappy then, and she placed her head upon her paws, closing her own eyes against him. But she wondered at his words. I won’t just leave after you, he had said. What did that imply? That he would be back for more satisfaction? Or that he sought mateship? The female was displeased. She did not think of herself that way. With her eyes closed, the female murmured to him, “In battle, both the mind and the body must be solid and unchanging, like the earth. Only the spirit may be free like the wind.”
The woman lifted her gaze once more, considering the male before her. It was as if by the mentioning of such things, the scars rose up against it. Her breath caught with the new wave of pain that came stronger than the rest, gritting her teeth, but it caused her to snarl. “I do not require your help,” and her quiet melody was as black as a void. But then, the pain lessened, as she released her breath, her eyes clearing. “Forgive me,” she almost whispered, and turned her gaze away. The frustration in herself rose again. She did not like this weakness that so readily rose from within her. She was frustrated that the pain of her body could undo her control so easily, undo the training. Her left hand gripped the grass as her body tensed with another wave of pain, but she was silent this time, steeled against herself, determined to overcome the weakness in herself. The same weakness that had brought defeat to her body. And she was silent for a while until, when the pain subsided, she turned back to the yellow-eyed male. “I must endure alone and conquer this weakness,” the alto melody told him, and the white gaze slowly lifted, hoping that the other male would understand. She was not angry with him, only with herself.
The female exhaled softly, as if she were trying to laugh. It was not a mocking sound, but she could not understand him still. “What is pleasant about the company of a wounded warrior, Biler’a?” Her quiet melody demanded to know. She fell silent once more as her labored breathing was quieted. The white orbs were fixed upon a single blade of grass in the distance, her mind wandering in the depths of her mind, searching for something and finding nothing. The warrior looked back to the male. “What is so desiring about me?” and she held the question openly upon her white orbs. Perhaps she did not only wish to ask this of him, but of the others who had desired her, regardless of how few there were. Perhaps they were fooled by the woad upon her body. That had always been her suspicion.
- Dutch Biler'a - 03-12-2009
[html][/html]The male sighed. He knew that Cwmfen would take years to give into his desires, if ever. Dutch was upset but far from angry. The brute was positive he would never hurt the female in any way, shape or form; he would be furious with himself if he did such a thing. Dutch could not put his finger on it, but the feelings he felt now were odd. Tingly, jittery and obnoxious. Not a feeling he usually felt, at least. He opened his mouth, ready to scream out more words to Cwmfen but bit back his lip, letting out another strained sigh.
"I desire you, yes. If you would want to desire me, I would change. I won't be the rude and tough Dutch that everyone knows me as. At least for you, Cwmfen. I'm not evil, I promise," Dutch murmured, looking into the white pupils of the female. It was a strange sensation that shot through him as he looked at Cwmfen with such a powerful pull and eagerness to be with her. He would never do anything without her permission, however; that was why he had asked in the first place.
Dutch nodded, accepting her words. "I understand. But, please, if you need help... just call me. Promise me?" The brute whispered quietly, his voice barely audible. All that he wanted was to grap her in an embrace and help her through anything. It bothered and agonized him to see Cwmfen in such pain, unable to do anything for her. But Dutch understood. He wouldn't do anything that she didn't want him to.
"Cwmfen, what is not pleasant about you? You are intelligent, kind and beautiful. What more could you ask in someone?" Dutch replied, tilting his head slightly. It was obvious how he expressed his feelings toward the female; very open and without hesitation. He was very blunt, but it was hard for him not to be.
- Cwmfen nic Graine - 03-14-2009
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It seemed almost as if the male were going to speak, to yell perhaps, once more. But he fell silent, biting back whatever it was he was going to say. And there was silence until he broke it, speaking as those yellow eyes sought the depths of her white orbs. Evil? The warrior could have laughed aloud, but she did not, for she knew enough of pride and respect to remain silent. She knew quite well that the wolf before here was not an evil creature. Misunderstood, cocky, pragmatic even, but that was not evil. She had glimpsed a part of evil, and his darkness was not so dense as to be so irreversibly wicked. The other words held more weight than the latter. But the alto melody did not fill the silence immediately, as she waited with the wind for a few more moments. “If I were to desire you,” the woad warrior said at last, “I would desire you for who you are. Nothing less.” The Caledonian-Korean did not manipulate lust into love and would force no soul into a preconceived mold.
A light smile flickered across her maw, and there was a warmth in it. “Alright,” the woad marked woman agreed. “I promise.” His concern for her, made so apparent, almost surprised her. And she was amazed once more with the trust that could bind the pack to one another. “I realize how vulnerable I must seem,” the warrior admitted modestly. “And I admire your self control.” The woman was relieved that she would not have to deal with the physical matter of rejecting the desires of a male. And she was well aware that such desires were blinding, suffocating. She was well aware to where such desires could lead, and how dangerous one who allowed themselves to be consumed by that desire could be. And so she was impressed that the male had set aside that which he had desired and had not taken advantage of her position. Perhaps, if she were fully revitalized, she would have been able to handle such crude games. But not this night.
Dutch’s blunt answer invoked a smile upon the warrior’s maw, but it was almost sad. She was silent, choosing not to answer save for with that smile. Intelligent, kind, and beautiful. Her intelligence had failed her at the lake those long days ago. Kindness was not of one who could kill without regret. And beauty.... She had seen many more exquisite flowers. Perhaps there was truth to what the male claimed she was, but she knew her own quality and saw the flaws in her character. Nothing was perfect. Nothing was pure. Nothing was eternal. Not even love. And these were not the bitter thoughts of a lonely wolf, but the realistic thoughts of one wolf who had chosen her solitude. “I cannot be bound by the chains of love,” the female replied, and she was almost sorry that she had to say it. But she had to be direct as well and spare him from wasted time.
- Dutch Biler'a - 03-24-2009
[html][/html]Really crappy. Need to get something done, am I right?Dutch sighed. It was a sigh of defeat, depression and loss. He was defeated and knew that he would be like this for a while. The man knew that he had lost something, too. Exactly what he did not know. Maybe it was his dignity or his determination to be evil and rude to everyone. Yet, somehow Dutch felt like it was not a worldly thing he had lost after speaking with Cwmfen. It was a feeling inside him that seemed to be aligned differently, shaking and changing all other emotions Dutch was experiencing.
Ignoring all other things Cwmfen had told him, he skipped to the end. "I do not ask for you to love me! Yes, I desire such a thing but I would never ask for you to. It is your choice to control how you feeling toward me, even if I would kill for you to love me," Dutch whispered, his voice cracking. His yellow orbs sparkled with panic and humility. He had no idea why he was admitting so much to Cwmfen.
- Cwmfen nic Graine - 03-26-2009
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Shall we end this one in a few posts?
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The woad bound ears swiveled at the sound of that sigh. It was a particular sound that she had never heard before, at least not quiet like this one. It was heavy and deep, but not only in the sound. That sigh seemed to resonate from his depth. The white orbs lifted to look at the male as if wondering at that sound. Perhaps she could not understand why he felt so deeply dissatisfied. And if he were so dissatisfied, she did not understand why he lingered. He seemed to be conflicted, and such conflict was waging a war within him. But it was something that she could not quite understand, for she could not read his mind to fully understand how it was that he was feeling. But this conflict reminded her of DaVinci, though she felt that it was of a different nature. She was silent, unwilling to break the silence. The black fae did not want to interrupt the male’s thoughts, for she knew that such a thing could prove to be dangerous—not for her, but for him. And so she was silent, calming herself and the pain that was constantly threatening to break through in an open cry.
When Dutch finally broke the silence, his yellow eyes were wild, frantic, but strangely meek. His voice, however, was a hoarse whisper. The female was internally confused, for a male had never displayed to her in this way before. On the surface, however, the warrior remained calm, yet it was not a cold impassivity, but a gentle one. “Such emotions cannot be controlled,” the alto melody spoke quietly and slowly, and the white orbs regarded the male carefully, as if she were deciding where next to tread. The silence was filled by the night before she permitted herself to continue. “I’m glad that you do not force such a thing upon me.... Forgive me, Biler’a,” the alto melody continued, and she paused momentarily. “I cannot reciprocate what it is you may be feeling—not even if you were to kill.” The white orbs met his yellow eyes with a gentleness belying the belligerence of which she was capable.
“I cannot satisfy your needs, physical or mental. But you will find another who will.” The female had not been lying when she had told him that she could not be bound by love. And love was a binding thing, something of which she could not be a part. And she would bear no male’s children, for she, selfishly perhaps, would not sacrifice her passion for younger and newer life. While the female was capable of the protection of pups and recognized their importance to the progression of life, she herself could not tolerate their presence for long. And she knew that love did not require the bearing of young, but she was not able to tolerate this society’s definition of love and mateship. She was a curious creature, and she would satisfy her curiosity. And it was in times such as this, when her mind traveled over such things, that she understood the difference between herself and others. Perhaps it was pragmatism, or perhaps it was something else.
The warrior had been silent for a while, her gaze lingering upon the male. Then suddenly, she said, “You said that if I needed help, I could ask you....” The female’s alto melody was quiet, almost tentative. The white gaze lifted to his eyes once more as she continued. “I was wondering if you could...hunt a small meal for me right now...?” The female had realized how hungry she was, but in her state, she could not even hunt for herself. And as if accentuating this fact, a soft rumbling came from her stomach, and the female managed a small, apologetic smile.
