04-28-2009, 07:09 PM
[html]
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v515/ ... fenban.jpg); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;">
500+
Cwmfen’s exterior was unmoved as the red-hued girl faltered. It was as if the black hued woman no longer saw the relationship—the friendship, even—that had existed between them. At the moment, the warrior saw only the enemy that had penetrated the boarders of the packland; indeed, this enemy had not attacked, but exceptions could not be made. Cwmfen herself had confronted several creatures that had cut through the pack boarders uninvited. While each instance had proved the perpetrator to be virtually harmless, one day the warrior new that there was a possibility for a true threat to make itself known in such a way, and the warrior would not wait for that day. The trust within the black fae’s soul was tentative, unable to trust too deeply for she knew of the treachery that lay in every heart and every soul. And so she did not display affection for the girl before her; it was the duty of the Adonis and the Warrior to maintain that security.
I trusted you.... Something within the woad woman’s mind faltered for she was able to recognize the hurt that she now caused the girl to feel. But the warrior was able to push it away. As the girl Svara moved to toss the dagger, the woad bound ears were erected and the white eyes were sharpened. Sudden movements could be anything—a simple shift in posture or an attack. The white orbs flicked momentarily to the relinquished gift; it was disrespectful to return something that had been given. Yet could she have expected something more from the girl? She had not learned to respect others, even the enemy, and the black fae suspected that it was such flaws that had effected her expulsion from the pack. But the moment of considering the weapon had passed, and the white orbs returned to the girl as she turned to run. "I accept your good-bye," the quiet melody murmured softly, practically to herself, and those silver tones were not without parting.
The woad tipped tail flickered quietly behind the woman as she watched the place where the girl had disappeared from her sight. For a moment she listened to the sound of her passing until that too had disappeared. Fluidly, the woad marked woman knelt, retrieving the dagger. The one-eyed Raven opened his wings slightly to retain his balance, relaxing only when she had straitened her posture. The knife that was held in her hand was considered by those white eyes, contemplative and clear, before it was lowered to her side. The warrior looked up to Cercelee, a soft smile upon her maw. The woman did not regret what had occurred—the girl would never learn. She regarded Haku then with a silent dip of her maw, a formal greeting for the silent observer. She wondered what it was that Haku felt. And then the woman turned, thinking that she would leave. The girl had been pursued by neither of the leaders, and so the Adonis was not moved to do so. There was nothing more to be said between the Warrior and the girl—at least in her own mind.
500+
Cwmfen’s exterior was unmoved as the red-hued girl faltered. It was as if the black hued woman no longer saw the relationship—the friendship, even—that had existed between them. At the moment, the warrior saw only the enemy that had penetrated the boarders of the packland; indeed, this enemy had not attacked, but exceptions could not be made. Cwmfen herself had confronted several creatures that had cut through the pack boarders uninvited. While each instance had proved the perpetrator to be virtually harmless, one day the warrior new that there was a possibility for a true threat to make itself known in such a way, and the warrior would not wait for that day. The trust within the black fae’s soul was tentative, unable to trust too deeply for she knew of the treachery that lay in every heart and every soul. And so she did not display affection for the girl before her; it was the duty of the Adonis and the Warrior to maintain that security.
I trusted you.... Something within the woad woman’s mind faltered for she was able to recognize the hurt that she now caused the girl to feel. But the warrior was able to push it away. As the girl Svara moved to toss the dagger, the woad bound ears were erected and the white eyes were sharpened. Sudden movements could be anything—a simple shift in posture or an attack. The white orbs flicked momentarily to the relinquished gift; it was disrespectful to return something that had been given. Yet could she have expected something more from the girl? She had not learned to respect others, even the enemy, and the black fae suspected that it was such flaws that had effected her expulsion from the pack. But the moment of considering the weapon had passed, and the white orbs returned to the girl as she turned to run. "I accept your good-bye," the quiet melody murmured softly, practically to herself, and those silver tones were not without parting.
The woad tipped tail flickered quietly behind the woman as she watched the place where the girl had disappeared from her sight. For a moment she listened to the sound of her passing until that too had disappeared. Fluidly, the woad marked woman knelt, retrieving the dagger. The one-eyed Raven opened his wings slightly to retain his balance, relaxing only when she had straitened her posture. The knife that was held in her hand was considered by those white eyes, contemplative and clear, before it was lowered to her side. The warrior looked up to Cercelee, a soft smile upon her maw. The woman did not regret what had occurred—the girl would never learn. She regarded Haku then with a silent dip of her maw, a formal greeting for the silent observer. She wondered what it was that Haku felt. And then the woman turned, thinking that she would leave. The girl had been pursued by neither of the leaders, and so the Adonis was not moved to do so. There was nothing more to be said between the Warrior and the girl—at least in her own mind.