08-20-2008, 03:21 AM
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Sorry for the wait~ ^=^;;;
500+
Sleep had come as soon as she had closed her eyes, and she drifted into oblivion as a rock would in the ocean deep—swiftly but smoothly. The darkness of the limbo was as soft as a hare’s down, and Cwmfen lay in its comfort without fear. The commodity pushed her deeper into sleep, and she sighed deeply before relinquishing her will to it. Even the dreams now lacked fear. The great crow-wolf did not lurk in the shadows, did not reach out with claws and jaws of belligerency and death. And yet, there was a strange sorrow for his absence. While he had done many a great unjusts upon her, while he brought fear upon her and death too, she felt something akin to admiration—to love. Love. There was something about that wolf that was unlike anyone she had ever met, or would ever meet...
Heartache—
—Dreams...
They were created in the split second before wakefulness. She dreamt now of a past battle. Yet, ire was not riddled within the world of her mind. Elation. Her fur bristling over her body was like a thousand needles gently pressing their way into her skin. The snarls thundered from her like a black thunder, and her teeth seared the air like white-hot swords. But to no avail. He appeared. The wolf before her became the crow wolf, and he could not be surmounted. The woad-marked fae’s posture became one of fear, almost submissive before the slowly approaching brute. She backed up, a snarl distorting her plain features. Her foot slipped, and the earth beneath it suddenly fell away—
Her back foot jerked, bringing the black fae out of her now-troubled slumber. She regained consciousness, but her eyes remained closed, a small frown creasing her brow as she stretched. But she could feel eyes on her. The white orbs opened, slowly, and they swiveled in a wide arch before finding the perpetrator. An optime luperci, ash-hued with black circles about his brown eyes. It wasn’t the way he was looking at her that bothered her as much as his mere presence did. Because of her experience with her father, and her non-existent contact with friendly wolves, others, especially males, induced a shyness from her.
Looking away bashfully, Cwmfen yawned, dragging a banded paw across the banded muzzle before re-positioning herself into a curled position. The white-eyed fae turned back to the other, raising her maw slightly to scent him. The optime’s scent was vaguely familiar to her; she’d smelled his scent as she had crossed over the boarders, and so she assumed that he must also belong to the pack Dahlia de Mai. A barely perceptible smile shyly crossed her slender maw.
“Hello...” Her quiet voice was soft and golden, like a steam of sunlight through a cold morning forest. “I... I’m new to the pack...” she stated lamely. There was an awkward laughter intermingling in her words—she hated socializing... She wanted to look away, disappointed with her efforts, but she didn’t. Instead, she watched the other male as if he were going to attack her; it was simply embedded into her now. But that’s what isolation did. Cwmfen wasn’t intentionally giving him the cold shoulder, it’s just how things came out.
[/html]
Sorry for the wait~ ^=^;;;
500+
Sleep had come as soon as she had closed her eyes, and she drifted into oblivion as a rock would in the ocean deep—swiftly but smoothly. The darkness of the limbo was as soft as a hare’s down, and Cwmfen lay in its comfort without fear. The commodity pushed her deeper into sleep, and she sighed deeply before relinquishing her will to it. Even the dreams now lacked fear. The great crow-wolf did not lurk in the shadows, did not reach out with claws and jaws of belligerency and death. And yet, there was a strange sorrow for his absence. While he had done many a great unjusts upon her, while he brought fear upon her and death too, she felt something akin to admiration—to love. Love. There was something about that wolf that was unlike anyone she had ever met, or would ever meet...
Heartache—
—Dreams...
They were created in the split second before wakefulness. She dreamt now of a past battle. Yet, ire was not riddled within the world of her mind. Elation. Her fur bristling over her body was like a thousand needles gently pressing their way into her skin. The snarls thundered from her like a black thunder, and her teeth seared the air like white-hot swords. But to no avail. He appeared. The wolf before her became the crow wolf, and he could not be surmounted. The woad-marked fae’s posture became one of fear, almost submissive before the slowly approaching brute. She backed up, a snarl distorting her plain features. Her foot slipped, and the earth beneath it suddenly fell away—
Her back foot jerked, bringing the black fae out of her now-troubled slumber. She regained consciousness, but her eyes remained closed, a small frown creasing her brow as she stretched. But she could feel eyes on her. The white orbs opened, slowly, and they swiveled in a wide arch before finding the perpetrator. An optime luperci, ash-hued with black circles about his brown eyes. It wasn’t the way he was looking at her that bothered her as much as his mere presence did. Because of her experience with her father, and her non-existent contact with friendly wolves, others, especially males, induced a shyness from her.
Looking away bashfully, Cwmfen yawned, dragging a banded paw across the banded muzzle before re-positioning herself into a curled position. The white-eyed fae turned back to the other, raising her maw slightly to scent him. The optime’s scent was vaguely familiar to her; she’d smelled his scent as she had crossed over the boarders, and so she assumed that he must also belong to the pack Dahlia de Mai. A barely perceptible smile shyly crossed her slender maw.
“Hello...” Her quiet voice was soft and golden, like a steam of sunlight through a cold morning forest. “I... I’m new to the pack...” she stated lamely. There was an awkward laughter intermingling in her words—she hated socializing... She wanted to look away, disappointed with her efforts, but she didn’t. Instead, she watched the other male as if he were going to attack her; it was simply embedded into her now. But that’s what isolation did. Cwmfen wasn’t intentionally giving him the cold shoulder, it’s just how things came out.