02-15-2009, 09:25 PM
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That’s okay—I don’t mind at all! I just like to ramble sometimes, ^=^;;
500+
Cwmfen nic Graine was not fond of coyotes. She knew that the troublesome creatures mostly hailed from Inferni, and she knew that this male was not of that clan. She knew also that not all coyotes were creatures of chao. But there was some innate instinct that bid her to become intolerant with these creatures. And yet, there was something about this creature that struck her curiosity, and she was inclined to investigate further into who this creature was.
He mad her wait, and a slight, knowing smirk tickled the woad-marked woman’s lips. The white orbs held their steady gaze, and she waited with persistent patience. When he finally turned to face her, she noticed once more his bound eyes. Had she known that the eyes beneath were black as the pits of hell, she may have been afraid. Her father’s eyes were such a shade—a shade hinting at absence, of oblivion. Her father’s eyes held the darkness that his soul held, held the emptiness that was his heart. And had she known that the coy’s eyes were black, she may have wondered why they were black, if he had hate in his heart, and if he had that emptiness that craved to kill not only the body but the soul. She would have changed her intentions. She may have killed him—or tried. But of the coyote’s ink black eyes she did not know, and so she did not wonder these things. And so she was not afraid.
In his reply he did not give a name. And yet the female had not expected it of him. Nor did she require it. The woad warrior shifted her weight as her blue tipped tail flickered behind her. "You serve Justice then?" Her alto voice lifted in the cold, crisp air, but the melody did not hold its usual sweet quality. Her inquiry was rhetorical, and it was made clear that she did not require an answer. This fact, however, was not what she had expected. The impression that this strangely clad coy made upon her was a good one. At least it told her enough to know that he was not like those other creatures he claimed to fight against. And she sensed no treachery in his words.
With a slight nod the female said, "How well do you serve Her, City-Knight?" and taking up her spear her posture changed. Perhaps if he hailed from some neighboring pack, the Warrior of Dahlia de Mai would have exercised less freedom of action. But because this blindfolded male was a loner, she felt a little freer in her choice of action. She would, of course, not push this game too far, but she needed a little action. She needed to test her skills, to see what her training had done. And she wanted to see what this male could do. With a fierce smile, the female challenged, "Let’s see what you can do." There was no doubt of what her intentions were, and she retained that strangely benign aura about her. She just wanted to have a little fun.
That’s okay—I don’t mind at all! I just like to ramble sometimes, ^=^;;
500+
Cwmfen nic Graine was not fond of coyotes. She knew that the troublesome creatures mostly hailed from Inferni, and she knew that this male was not of that clan. She knew also that not all coyotes were creatures of chao. But there was some innate instinct that bid her to become intolerant with these creatures. And yet, there was something about this creature that struck her curiosity, and she was inclined to investigate further into who this creature was.
He mad her wait, and a slight, knowing smirk tickled the woad-marked woman’s lips. The white orbs held their steady gaze, and she waited with persistent patience. When he finally turned to face her, she noticed once more his bound eyes. Had she known that the eyes beneath were black as the pits of hell, she may have been afraid. Her father’s eyes were such a shade—a shade hinting at absence, of oblivion. Her father’s eyes held the darkness that his soul held, held the emptiness that was his heart. And had she known that the coy’s eyes were black, she may have wondered why they were black, if he had hate in his heart, and if he had that emptiness that craved to kill not only the body but the soul. She would have changed her intentions. She may have killed him—or tried. But of the coyote’s ink black eyes she did not know, and so she did not wonder these things. And so she was not afraid.
In his reply he did not give a name. And yet the female had not expected it of him. Nor did she require it. The woad warrior shifted her weight as her blue tipped tail flickered behind her. "You serve Justice then?" Her alto voice lifted in the cold, crisp air, but the melody did not hold its usual sweet quality. Her inquiry was rhetorical, and it was made clear that she did not require an answer. This fact, however, was not what she had expected. The impression that this strangely clad coy made upon her was a good one. At least it told her enough to know that he was not like those other creatures he claimed to fight against. And she sensed no treachery in his words.
With a slight nod the female said, "How well do you serve Her, City-Knight?" and taking up her spear her posture changed. Perhaps if he hailed from some neighboring pack, the Warrior of Dahlia de Mai would have exercised less freedom of action. But because this blindfolded male was a loner, she felt a little freer in her choice of action. She would, of course, not push this game too far, but she needed a little action. She needed to test her skills, to see what her training had done. And she wanted to see what this male could do. With a fierce smile, the female challenged, "Let’s see what you can do." There was no doubt of what her intentions were, and she retained that strangely benign aura about her. She just wanted to have a little fun.