02-11-2009, 12:42 AM
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Of course~ ^=^
500+
A quiet, continuous roll of thunder snarled in her throat as the female’s white eyes beheld her opponent with a wild ferocity. She sensed the shock from the other, saw the physical attributes of such surprise, but the instinct and the habit of the female urged her to move—to continue and finish what she had done. For two long years she had learned the ways of life the hard way, and she had learned to kill those who attacked lest they should kill in return. It was that vicious cycle of the wild, and she had trusted no one. Even one who submitted with defeat would come after her, and so she learned to kill them all, and she had been good at what she done. But here, she hesitated, for she was no longer the wild, free-roaming lone wolf. She was a pack wolf, and she held a respectable rank within the pack of Dahlia de Mai. The wolf before her, moreover, was a member of the nearby tribe AniWaya, and so she must not kill this wolf. But her body screamed and her mind fought to break free, to force the savagery into her body and into motion, to close her jaws about the weakened, injured wolf who had attacked her.
But she saw the sudden change within the grey brindled female, and it was like the sun had risen in the darkness of night. Sanity had not crept back to her but had flown in the face of her madness, and the black fae saw it and it stilled her wild ferocity. She had a reputation to uphold, and she now represented a pack. She would not kill this wolf today. Perhaps if Catherine had continued, the wolf would have, purely out of habit. But there was no true need for this battle and Cwmfen recognized it. She recognized the poor condition of the AniWayan female, and she knew that this would not be worth the trouble of a kill. And so, with a great effort, she smoothed the ruffles in the once-raging waters of her mind, returning it to its naturally tranquil state. With a great sigh, the female released the energies of her body and mind, and her muscles relaxed, and her hackles fell, and her face was plain and gentle once more.
And then Catherine was prone upon the earth, and the female nodded silently as she accepted the soft-spoken words offered in the still heated air. The Tilia hesitated, as if considering to leave her opponent behind. Habit bid her to do so. And yet, was the AniWayan an opponent still? She could not think so. And the female had needed help. She had to admit that she must give the other credit, for she had fought regardless of the temporary handicap of her arm. Finally, a faint smile broke through, and it flickered there with a warmth. "I understand," she replied quietly. And she did, for pain drove one to great lengths. It was merely a reaction imbedded deep within the psyche of all wolves, and she doubted that the female before her had had the training of the discipline of warriors. But she remembered the time when she too was untrained, and she recognized the strength it took for the female to admit it.
Cwmfen took a step in Catherine’s direction. Then another, and another. And then she was standing over the luperci, but not as a conquerer. With a soft, unthreatening gesture, the she-wolf lowered her maw to the woman’s face and licked the blood from the wound that she herself had inflicted. "Would you still be needing that help?" the woad warrior asked with a wry smile. It was ironic to think that she would be helping one who had just attacked her, but she lived in a different world now, and she knew the rules of this game.
Of course~ ^=^
500+
A quiet, continuous roll of thunder snarled in her throat as the female’s white eyes beheld her opponent with a wild ferocity. She sensed the shock from the other, saw the physical attributes of such surprise, but the instinct and the habit of the female urged her to move—to continue and finish what she had done. For two long years she had learned the ways of life the hard way, and she had learned to kill those who attacked lest they should kill in return. It was that vicious cycle of the wild, and she had trusted no one. Even one who submitted with defeat would come after her, and so she learned to kill them all, and she had been good at what she done. But here, she hesitated, for she was no longer the wild, free-roaming lone wolf. She was a pack wolf, and she held a respectable rank within the pack of Dahlia de Mai. The wolf before her, moreover, was a member of the nearby tribe AniWaya, and so she must not kill this wolf. But her body screamed and her mind fought to break free, to force the savagery into her body and into motion, to close her jaws about the weakened, injured wolf who had attacked her.
But she saw the sudden change within the grey brindled female, and it was like the sun had risen in the darkness of night. Sanity had not crept back to her but had flown in the face of her madness, and the black fae saw it and it stilled her wild ferocity. She had a reputation to uphold, and she now represented a pack. She would not kill this wolf today. Perhaps if Catherine had continued, the wolf would have, purely out of habit. But there was no true need for this battle and Cwmfen recognized it. She recognized the poor condition of the AniWayan female, and she knew that this would not be worth the trouble of a kill. And so, with a great effort, she smoothed the ruffles in the once-raging waters of her mind, returning it to its naturally tranquil state. With a great sigh, the female released the energies of her body and mind, and her muscles relaxed, and her hackles fell, and her face was plain and gentle once more.
And then Catherine was prone upon the earth, and the female nodded silently as she accepted the soft-spoken words offered in the still heated air. The Tilia hesitated, as if considering to leave her opponent behind. Habit bid her to do so. And yet, was the AniWayan an opponent still? She could not think so. And the female had needed help. She had to admit that she must give the other credit, for she had fought regardless of the temporary handicap of her arm. Finally, a faint smile broke through, and it flickered there with a warmth. "I understand," she replied quietly. And she did, for pain drove one to great lengths. It was merely a reaction imbedded deep within the psyche of all wolves, and she doubted that the female before her had had the training of the discipline of warriors. But she remembered the time when she too was untrained, and she recognized the strength it took for the female to admit it.
Cwmfen took a step in Catherine’s direction. Then another, and another. And then she was standing over the luperci, but not as a conquerer. With a soft, unthreatening gesture, the she-wolf lowered her maw to the woman’s face and licked the blood from the wound that she herself had inflicted. "Would you still be needing that help?" the woad warrior asked with a wry smile. It was ironic to think that she would be helping one who had just attacked her, but she lived in a different world now, and she knew the rules of this game.