06-06-2009, 10:21 PM
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Okay~ Here we go, and Cer can come in now, ^=^
500+
A light smile flickered across her maw, almost wry for her silence. Indeed, it was not entirely her fault that her father had come, that her father had attacked those about her. She did not control the mind or actions of the crow wolf and never would—she did not have that kind of power. But she had come to these lands, to Dahlia, to run from him. And because of her presence, the pied brute was using those about her as warnings, threatening her. And she had done nothing.... Was that not enough to take the blame? This conflict was no longer about her. It was about the pack. It was about the lives of those around her and the potential victims. Her life meant very little in the light of it all. She was a mere life form within the scope of the world, and the world would continue to turn without her. Her purpose was to protect the pack—that was her duty. She wondered to herself: what weakness brought this defeat? But she could not yet understand enough to answer her own question.
The woman’s ears pricked forward. "Fear is not the same as cowardice," the soft, alto melody replied, almost sharply. No, Slay was not a coward. She was the one who had run from Corvus, seeking to hide here within these lands. There was a soft sigh, though that sigh held within it ambiguity. Fear was imperative for survival, but it was something else also: an emotion. "Fear is what makes us different from him. He feels nothing, but we have the ability to feel everything." Her white orbs sought the male’s gaze. "Even if fear stopped you, you are not a coward. Fear can be overcome, if you learn how." It was a thing that warriors must be able to do.... The woman shook her head at herself. And yet here she stood with a fear she could not yet overcome. The black fae watched as the male struggled to rise, and although she could feel his weariness shudder in the air, he surmounted it. The woman nodded silently, a smile upon her maw. "Let’s go."
She lead him quickly, but not too quickly, making sure that he was no more than a step behind. Occasionally the woman would break the silence, speaking of things that she had seen and of the threat of Brennt. It was difficult for the silent woman to maintain a one-sided conversation, especially because she was often a silent creature. But she felt that speaking to Slay, even if he did not respond, would help take his mind off of the pain and weariness his body would be feeling. At one point, the woman spoke of Dreaming, remembering his curiosity of it. If he could Dream, she supposed aloud, it would different from her own Dreaming, for she followed a different diety. And then, at last, the Church was in view. With relief, the woman lead the Head Hunter to the door. The warrior’s fist pounded upon the wood. "Cercelee," the alto song rang loudly. Please be home, she thought as her hand reached for the handle.
Okay~ Here we go, and Cer can come in now, ^=^
500+
A light smile flickered across her maw, almost wry for her silence. Indeed, it was not entirely her fault that her father had come, that her father had attacked those about her. She did not control the mind or actions of the crow wolf and never would—she did not have that kind of power. But she had come to these lands, to Dahlia, to run from him. And because of her presence, the pied brute was using those about her as warnings, threatening her. And she had done nothing.... Was that not enough to take the blame? This conflict was no longer about her. It was about the pack. It was about the lives of those around her and the potential victims. Her life meant very little in the light of it all. She was a mere life form within the scope of the world, and the world would continue to turn without her. Her purpose was to protect the pack—that was her duty. She wondered to herself: what weakness brought this defeat? But she could not yet understand enough to answer her own question.
The woman’s ears pricked forward. "Fear is not the same as cowardice," the soft, alto melody replied, almost sharply. No, Slay was not a coward. She was the one who had run from Corvus, seeking to hide here within these lands. There was a soft sigh, though that sigh held within it ambiguity. Fear was imperative for survival, but it was something else also: an emotion. "Fear is what makes us different from him. He feels nothing, but we have the ability to feel everything." Her white orbs sought the male’s gaze. "Even if fear stopped you, you are not a coward. Fear can be overcome, if you learn how." It was a thing that warriors must be able to do.... The woman shook her head at herself. And yet here she stood with a fear she could not yet overcome. The black fae watched as the male struggled to rise, and although she could feel his weariness shudder in the air, he surmounted it. The woman nodded silently, a smile upon her maw. "Let’s go."
She lead him quickly, but not too quickly, making sure that he was no more than a step behind. Occasionally the woman would break the silence, speaking of things that she had seen and of the threat of Brennt. It was difficult for the silent woman to maintain a one-sided conversation, especially because she was often a silent creature. But she felt that speaking to Slay, even if he did not respond, would help take his mind off of the pain and weariness his body would be feeling. At one point, the woman spoke of Dreaming, remembering his curiosity of it. If he could Dream, she supposed aloud, it would different from her own Dreaming, for she followed a different diety. And then, at last, the Church was in view. With relief, the woman lead the Head Hunter to the door. The warrior’s fist pounded upon the wood. "Cercelee," the alto song rang loudly. Please be home, she thought as her hand reached for the handle.