06-01-2009, 01:12 AM
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500+
It was the man that broke the silence, without moving, without turning to acknowledge her. But the woman was not startled by the suddenness of that gruff voice, as if she had felt the accumulation of those words in previous silence. She had heard something in his voice, something that struck a dark chord within her, something that, for some reason, made her nervous. And the black fae did not respond immediately, allowing the silence to follow as if she required the time. His words were unkind, discourteous to her code of honor—did he not know how she felt about him? It was like nothing she had ever felt before.... And, with the power of those words, the Dahlian warrior considered the possibility that words could be as equally potent as action. Perhaps she could have simply told him to leave—that would have been enough. But would it have been enough for Haku? She knew the tendencies of the male, and recently she knew that something was different. She had not wanted conflict to arise between the Lilium and the masked vigilante; such a thing would warrant her intervention. And in the end, her own matters were insignificant to the matters of the pack. She could suffer an intangible wound for the pack she served. She had forgotten to consider in her careful calculations the wounding of someone very important to her, and she suffered more intensely for it now.
"No," the woman replied evenly at length, that melody quiet even in the silence. "I came of my own accord." She said it as if she had planned this encounter, but, while her heart may have drawn her here, her presence in that room was a simple result of spontaneity. It was one, she admitted to herself, that she was glad of, despite her anxiety. The woad marked woman fell silent once more as she watched the back of his form, her gaze lingering once more upon that wound. Every time, she felt that she held some of the blame for that great scar, and every time, she was thankful that it had not crippled him. The white orbs lifted, finding where his eyes would be turned away from her. "But I could never kill you." Could. Her words implied, not that she would not be compelled, but that she did not have the ability to do such a thing. That was not what I meant to display, she thought silently, unable to voice it aloud.
Cwmfen remained where she was, unmoving as she watched him. There was a quiet pleasure in the simple watching of a loved one.... But she wished that he would not keep his back to her. Even if he were not accepting her presence, she wished that she could see his face. She wished that he would not keep her at a distance. But perhaps she should have let him go. At least he would not have been hurt by her—or perhaps he was not? Perhaps he was simply angered, and perhaps he would tell her to leave. She had told him that she did not want to get in his way, and he had said that it would it would be easy to avoid. And yet, she felt that somehow it had not been avoided at all. The woman wanted to sigh with frustration, though not with him. He had done nothing wrong.... Finally, the black fae broke the silence once more, attempting to say something, and yet finding that she could not: "Onus, I—"
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500+
It was the man that broke the silence, without moving, without turning to acknowledge her. But the woman was not startled by the suddenness of that gruff voice, as if she had felt the accumulation of those words in previous silence. She had heard something in his voice, something that struck a dark chord within her, something that, for some reason, made her nervous. And the black fae did not respond immediately, allowing the silence to follow as if she required the time. His words were unkind, discourteous to her code of honor—did he not know how she felt about him? It was like nothing she had ever felt before.... And, with the power of those words, the Dahlian warrior considered the possibility that words could be as equally potent as action. Perhaps she could have simply told him to leave—that would have been enough. But would it have been enough for Haku? She knew the tendencies of the male, and recently she knew that something was different. She had not wanted conflict to arise between the Lilium and the masked vigilante; such a thing would warrant her intervention. And in the end, her own matters were insignificant to the matters of the pack. She could suffer an intangible wound for the pack she served. She had forgotten to consider in her careful calculations the wounding of someone very important to her, and she suffered more intensely for it now.
"No," the woman replied evenly at length, that melody quiet even in the silence. "I came of my own accord." She said it as if she had planned this encounter, but, while her heart may have drawn her here, her presence in that room was a simple result of spontaneity. It was one, she admitted to herself, that she was glad of, despite her anxiety. The woad marked woman fell silent once more as she watched the back of his form, her gaze lingering once more upon that wound. Every time, she felt that she held some of the blame for that great scar, and every time, she was thankful that it had not crippled him. The white orbs lifted, finding where his eyes would be turned away from her. "But I could never kill you." Could. Her words implied, not that she would not be compelled, but that she did not have the ability to do such a thing. That was not what I meant to display, she thought silently, unable to voice it aloud.
Cwmfen remained where she was, unmoving as she watched him. There was a quiet pleasure in the simple watching of a loved one.... But she wished that he would not keep his back to her. Even if he were not accepting her presence, she wished that she could see his face. She wished that he would not keep her at a distance. But perhaps she should have let him go. At least he would not have been hurt by her—or perhaps he was not? Perhaps he was simply angered, and perhaps he would tell her to leave. She had told him that she did not want to get in his way, and he had said that it would it would be easy to avoid. And yet, she felt that somehow it had not been avoided at all. The woman wanted to sigh with frustration, though not with him. He had done nothing wrong.... Finally, the black fae broke the silence once more, attempting to say something, and yet finding that she could not: "Onus, I—"