04-02-2009, 06:28 PM
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500+
The black fae’s nose twitched as if the beginnings of a frown, or even a snarl, threatened to distort the tranquility of her features. But the warrior relaxed; there was no reason to get worked up about such a thing. The child was simply upset, though it always seemed that she was. When the female had first encountered the girl, she had seen a great potential within her, a strength that many female lacked. But there was no control, and without control there was no command. Svara could not command the respect and presence just as she could not control her temper or her tongue. And the warrior thought that she would have learned from the attack her mother had made on her. But the black fae would be patient; perhaps, with some, such a healing was slow and gradual. And the warrior nodded to herself as if in understanding.
“No one is stopping you, Svara,” the alto melody replied, the silver tones almost gentle as they danced upon the air. “My home was offered to you, not given or bestowed. If you do not wish to stay, you may leave.” Cwmfen was a creature that believed in choice. She had chosen to offer her home to Svara because it was dark and secluded, offering her the privacy that other homes might not provide. But Svara had chose to bring the dog, lover or not, into her home uninvited into the lands. And Cwmfen had been tolerant enough to allow them their time for the day, but it seemed the Svara did not understand the gesture that the Adonis had granted her. “This tolerance,” the alto melody continued, her voice holding only marginally the irritation that she felt at such disrespect, “is one that you will not find often concerning such matters. You should not discard such a thing.”
The woad marked fae turned to the male in question. “I understand your concern,” and the alto tones implied that she indeed understood. “And I understand the frustration that must have ran through you when there was no reply. But I ask that next time you would at least find me before crossing those boarders.” It was a simple law of societies utilized for good reasons. A light smile danced upon her lips. “I would not deny that he would have,” the female agreed. And she hoped that this male, at least, understood her own simple gesture.
When the two exited her den, the female rose slowly and not without effort. Her hand gripped her spear that leaned against the tree nearby. She felt its song run through her with the contact, and a soft sigh of content escaped her maw. The white orbs turned to observe the couple, her pain hidden behind her amiable gaze. She was not here to threaten them. The black fae saw the mistrust in the red eyes, and she knew that Svara would be fine in his presence. So long as he honored her word, the warrior would not follow. The Adonis turned her gaze to consider the burrowing tunnel, but instead of entering her den, the female found a place to sit and lean against the tree that so graciously stood sentinel over her home. The tunnel would not allow her wounded body to enter her abode and so, if Svara returned, she would have it for herself. Cwmfen would remain outside where her wound would offer lesser protest.
The black fae’s nose twitched as if the beginnings of a frown, or even a snarl, threatened to distort the tranquility of her features. But the warrior relaxed; there was no reason to get worked up about such a thing. The child was simply upset, though it always seemed that she was. When the female had first encountered the girl, she had seen a great potential within her, a strength that many female lacked. But there was no control, and without control there was no command. Svara could not command the respect and presence just as she could not control her temper or her tongue. And the warrior thought that she would have learned from the attack her mother had made on her. But the black fae would be patient; perhaps, with some, such a healing was slow and gradual. And the warrior nodded to herself as if in understanding.
“No one is stopping you, Svara,” the alto melody replied, the silver tones almost gentle as they danced upon the air. “My home was offered to you, not given or bestowed. If you do not wish to stay, you may leave.” Cwmfen was a creature that believed in choice. She had chosen to offer her home to Svara because it was dark and secluded, offering her the privacy that other homes might not provide. But Svara had chose to bring the dog, lover or not, into her home uninvited into the lands. And Cwmfen had been tolerant enough to allow them their time for the day, but it seemed the Svara did not understand the gesture that the Adonis had granted her. “This tolerance,” the alto melody continued, her voice holding only marginally the irritation that she felt at such disrespect, “is one that you will not find often concerning such matters. You should not discard such a thing.”
The woad marked fae turned to the male in question. “I understand your concern,” and the alto tones implied that she indeed understood. “And I understand the frustration that must have ran through you when there was no reply. But I ask that next time you would at least find me before crossing those boarders.” It was a simple law of societies utilized for good reasons. A light smile danced upon her lips. “I would not deny that he would have,” the female agreed. And she hoped that this male, at least, understood her own simple gesture.
When the two exited her den, the female rose slowly and not without effort. Her hand gripped her spear that leaned against the tree nearby. She felt its song run through her with the contact, and a soft sigh of content escaped her maw. The white orbs turned to observe the couple, her pain hidden behind her amiable gaze. She was not here to threaten them. The black fae saw the mistrust in the red eyes, and she knew that Svara would be fine in his presence. So long as he honored her word, the warrior would not follow. The Adonis turned her gaze to consider the burrowing tunnel, but instead of entering her den, the female found a place to sit and lean against the tree that so graciously stood sentinel over her home. The tunnel would not allow her wounded body to enter her abode and so, if Svara returned, she would have it for herself. Cwmfen would remain outside where her wound would offer lesser protest.