05-03-2011, 11:33 AM
I am sorry Kris! I got a bit sick and had to recuperate. Back with a vengeance now. WC: 554
She had never really had a purlieu, a place of preference where she could linger. Or at least, she could not remember having one. But, letting her gold colored eyes wash over the mist of near dusk upon this shore, she thought that she could linger here for hours. There was something mystical about this intersection between land and sea that lent her a feeling that she might be close to the edge of the world. The shore did not seem to create a schism; instead, it seemed to pull together the elements of the known and unknown, stretching beneath an impartial sky.
A gentle voice called her attention away from her reflection on the shore, but nevertheless called to her with the same appeal. Knowing that she was so close to claimed territory, she was curious to see who exactly she would find. She turned to face the owner of the gentle voice, her cream colored locks skimming the top of her shoulder as she did so.
A young male her age stood not too far into the distance. He was the color of storm clouds, of smoke curling from a crackling fire. The edges of the sky seemed to embrace him and draw his colors in melding with him until it seemed that he was just part of the patchwork of the clouds, but more solid and tangible.
Her gaze traveled to touch his mouth, and she found that he had not bared his teeth. Indeed, his body language indicated a neutrality that she had not expected from a pack wolf. If not for the scent that clearly marked his place within the lands so close to both of them, she would have taken him for a stranger, someone like herself.
Finally, Arye’s coin colored eyes found his own. She felt a jolt of surprise when she found that they were a vibrant blue that contrasted wildly with the softer tones of his pelt that melded with the hue of the evening. Realizing that she had inadvertently held his gaze for a beat longer than would be polite so close to his home, she immediately dropped her gaze to stare at a spot between his chin and collarbone. ”Hey,” Arye said uncertainly, coming to her feet but keeping her head lowered as she did so. No need to create unneeded tension. She let her eyes drop to his feet as she considered the fact that she should probably move farther away from the scent marked territories that marked this gray boy’s homeland.
The sound of the sea drifted into her ears, and she felt the grains of sand against the pads of her feet, smooth in their togetherness, but rough when she concentrated on any one part. She did not want to leave. Gathering a deep breath within her lungs, the cream colored girl raised her coin colored gaze to look upon the face of the gray boy once more. There was no reason for her to leave and no reason for him to leave either. With the scents of the unclaimed wilderness and the rich bouquet of his own home perfuming this place in between their worlds, they could share. ”Come sit with me,” she said, her voice carrying with the clarity of a bell. ”My name is Arye. What’s yours?”
She had never really had a purlieu, a place of preference where she could linger. Or at least, she could not remember having one. But, letting her gold colored eyes wash over the mist of near dusk upon this shore, she thought that she could linger here for hours. There was something mystical about this intersection between land and sea that lent her a feeling that she might be close to the edge of the world. The shore did not seem to create a schism; instead, it seemed to pull together the elements of the known and unknown, stretching beneath an impartial sky.
A gentle voice called her attention away from her reflection on the shore, but nevertheless called to her with the same appeal. Knowing that she was so close to claimed territory, she was curious to see who exactly she would find. She turned to face the owner of the gentle voice, her cream colored locks skimming the top of her shoulder as she did so.
A young male her age stood not too far into the distance. He was the color of storm clouds, of smoke curling from a crackling fire. The edges of the sky seemed to embrace him and draw his colors in melding with him until it seemed that he was just part of the patchwork of the clouds, but more solid and tangible.
Her gaze traveled to touch his mouth, and she found that he had not bared his teeth. Indeed, his body language indicated a neutrality that she had not expected from a pack wolf. If not for the scent that clearly marked his place within the lands so close to both of them, she would have taken him for a stranger, someone like herself.
Finally, Arye’s coin colored eyes found his own. She felt a jolt of surprise when she found that they were a vibrant blue that contrasted wildly with the softer tones of his pelt that melded with the hue of the evening. Realizing that she had inadvertently held his gaze for a beat longer than would be polite so close to his home, she immediately dropped her gaze to stare at a spot between his chin and collarbone. ”Hey,” Arye said uncertainly, coming to her feet but keeping her head lowered as she did so. No need to create unneeded tension. She let her eyes drop to his feet as she considered the fact that she should probably move farther away from the scent marked territories that marked this gray boy’s homeland.
The sound of the sea drifted into her ears, and she felt the grains of sand against the pads of her feet, smooth in their togetherness, but rough when she concentrated on any one part. She did not want to leave. Gathering a deep breath within her lungs, the cream colored girl raised her coin colored gaze to look upon the face of the gray boy once more. There was no reason for her to leave and no reason for him to leave either. With the scents of the unclaimed wilderness and the rich bouquet of his own home perfuming this place in between their worlds, they could share. ”Come sit with me,” she said, her voice carrying with the clarity of a bell. ”My name is Arye. What’s yours?”