05-29-2009, 04:14 PM
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Oo, I like your signature~~~
Haha, aww, he’s cute, ^w^ And I said that he was taller than she was—I’m just assuming, so if he isn’t let me know, ^=^
500+
The orange hued wolf was quite indulged within the inspection of the sword. The woman, in turn, watched the boy curiously, her head titling ever so slightly. It was strange—a good sort of strange—to watch another transfixed by a weapon in the way this young man was. She wondered what sort of thoughts occurred in his head while he looked at it, wondered if they were similar to her own. But the black fae did not look down upon her own sword, instead keeping her eyes upon this stranger, yet uncertain as to what manner of creature this loner would turn out to be. Her gaze was intent as she hesitated there, unwilling as well to become involved without knowing this creature. If necessary, she would do so, but she would not simply attack an unknown creature. She wondered how her own blade would fare in such a battle. Badb was of Celtic origin and was shorter than the sword that was held within the orange wolf’s hands. But Badb, she believed, would not be disadvantaged.
As the sun glinted off the blade, the white orbs squinted briefly to ward off that blinding light that briefly sought to blind her. The warrior’s ears pricked forward, expecting an attack, for such a technique was often used to blind one’s opponents. And yet, when she lifted her gaze, her vision slightly hindered by that sudden but passing brightness, the boy presented no hostility. Instead, apologizing he sheathed the blade, swearing upon hospitality with his Knight’s Honor. A knight, the woman thought briefly. This boy must be a knight—she was but a simple warrior. And this latter display with the hand over his heart and the bow, the woman smiled, raising her blade as she placed her own fist over her heart and bowed in return. "In that case," the woman replied, "you are forgiven," and she rose, her words and display of utmost formality and respect. It was that display between warriors (and knights too, she thought, believing the two to be of different divisions) that was mutually understood.
Satisfied that this male did indeed mean no harm, the warrior ascended those steps with that fluid grace, her sword once more held comfortably in her hands. The Raven came to land upon her shoulder as it was accustom to doing, tilting its head to gaze upon the young man in question. She stood before him, and though he was young, his height was greater than her own, if only by a little. The woad warrior was curious of this young man as she was with all warriors that she met. "I am Cwmfen nic Graine," she greeted formally with a slight dip of her woad bound maw, "Adonis and Head Warrior of Dahlia de Mai." The white orbs sought the green eyes without challenge. "And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?" That light smile graced her maw with golden warmth, contrasting to the empty gaze of the one-eyed bird at her shoulder. His black beak clicked quietly as he watched unblinkingly the young man before them.
Oo, I like your signature~~~
Haha, aww, he’s cute, ^w^ And I said that he was taller than she was—I’m just assuming, so if he isn’t let me know, ^=^
500+
The orange hued wolf was quite indulged within the inspection of the sword. The woman, in turn, watched the boy curiously, her head titling ever so slightly. It was strange—a good sort of strange—to watch another transfixed by a weapon in the way this young man was. She wondered what sort of thoughts occurred in his head while he looked at it, wondered if they were similar to her own. But the black fae did not look down upon her own sword, instead keeping her eyes upon this stranger, yet uncertain as to what manner of creature this loner would turn out to be. Her gaze was intent as she hesitated there, unwilling as well to become involved without knowing this creature. If necessary, she would do so, but she would not simply attack an unknown creature. She wondered how her own blade would fare in such a battle. Badb was of Celtic origin and was shorter than the sword that was held within the orange wolf’s hands. But Badb, she believed, would not be disadvantaged.
As the sun glinted off the blade, the white orbs squinted briefly to ward off that blinding light that briefly sought to blind her. The warrior’s ears pricked forward, expecting an attack, for such a technique was often used to blind one’s opponents. And yet, when she lifted her gaze, her vision slightly hindered by that sudden but passing brightness, the boy presented no hostility. Instead, apologizing he sheathed the blade, swearing upon hospitality with his Knight’s Honor. A knight, the woman thought briefly. This boy must be a knight—she was but a simple warrior. And this latter display with the hand over his heart and the bow, the woman smiled, raising her blade as she placed her own fist over her heart and bowed in return. "In that case," the woman replied, "you are forgiven," and she rose, her words and display of utmost formality and respect. It was that display between warriors (and knights too, she thought, believing the two to be of different divisions) that was mutually understood.
Satisfied that this male did indeed mean no harm, the warrior ascended those steps with that fluid grace, her sword once more held comfortably in her hands. The Raven came to land upon her shoulder as it was accustom to doing, tilting its head to gaze upon the young man in question. She stood before him, and though he was young, his height was greater than her own, if only by a little. The woad warrior was curious of this young man as she was with all warriors that she met. "I am Cwmfen nic Graine," she greeted formally with a slight dip of her woad bound maw, "Adonis and Head Warrior of Dahlia de Mai." The white orbs sought the green eyes without challenge. "And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?" That light smile graced her maw with golden warmth, contrasting to the empty gaze of the one-eyed bird at her shoulder. His black beak clicked quietly as he watched unblinkingly the young man before them.