M - this is my song

Palaydrian Soul · 05-04-2012, 11:55 PM

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WC:: 000

Her song still permeated the nearby woods when tendrils of a strong scent snuck past the caked blood in her nostrils. The femme’s tongue lapped languidly at the dried up grouse life fluid to clear her nares before Drin took another deep exhale of the distinctly male musk. From taste alone she could tell this male carried more than his own odor on his body, he was definitely a pack wolf. Before Syliat had wandered off, the “demon” had taken interest in Palaydrian’s highly sensitive nose. The girl proved to be an excellent tracker before she reached the yearling season and Syl had taught Drin everything she knew about the senses. This was a life lesson the cream wolf would always cherish, the memories of being with her mysterious great grandmother, an endless pool of knowledge and information. Syliat’s years of raising Fawn had changed her from a cold blooded murderer to an ever loving and guiding matriarch. Of course Drin had no knowledge of Syliat’s life before her grandmother Fawn, and the demon’s past was very much so a unsolved riddle in all of their lives.

Chocolate dabbled ears swiveled forth when the faintest sound rustling in the brush reached her. Drin immediately lowered her stance in instinct. Growing up in a family run by the heirarchy of the pack, respect and submission had been ingrained into her head even as a pup. She only dared glance upward from her right peripheral to glimpse the silver lupine form approaching. Immediately the hunter in her took notice of the missing limb, the destroyed ear, and if she wasn’t mistaken, a milky eye...the tell tale sign of blindness or cataract eye which she had witnessed slowly robbing a pack elder of her sight. She lowered her gaze and chest closer to the loam beneath her large lilac paws when the male asserted his domination and had come close enough. She was the stranger on the other side of the border, and he...he could very well be the alpha of this pack for all she knew.

Drin felt the male’s eyes scan her body which in turn made her tuck her tail gently between her hind legs, ever the epitome of submission. The stranger’s voice ravaged her ears. After days of not communicating with another high speech creature she suddenly felt like she could cry out of relief, but she bit back her burst of emotion with a nervous lick of her jaw. Rust flavor hit her tongue and she remembered herself and her possible appearance. “Please excuse my intrusion,” her voice was rough from lack of use, she cleared her throat quickly and continued, “and my current visage...I made lunch of a grouse not but an hour ago when I became aware of a pack’s presence. If I happened to hunt on claimed lands, I apologize for my trespass.” She shifted her paws beneath her to a more comfortable crouched position and slightly exposed a clear path to her neck, scabbed over gash and all. “But I am a stranger to these lands and pray to seek refuge and to find a new home.” Drin stilled her tongue and awaited the male’s response. She hoped the ways of the pack that she was learned were not lost on this stranger, and that she was adhering the customs here.

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