06-14-2009, 11:34 PM
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500+
The woman’s head turned ever so slightly. Someone approached through the bright colours of the packlands, the advance unhidden by silence and made clearly known. The woad bound ears pressed forward, wondering at such a thing. The black female did not recognize the particular patterns of this approach, but that was not surprising as she had met very few wolves of this particular pack. But the woad warrior sensed agitation in that sound. Despite this, the Dahlian female did not move and remained quite still. It was apparent from the purposeful sound of the approach that her presence was known, and the warrior was not one to turn away. It was, after all, she who had approached these foreign boarders.
The wolf that emerged from the angry hues of the vermillion foliage was a female, her eyes the calm blue of still waters. But the tranquility of such a colour was marred by anger, distrust, irritation, and those calm waters were sent asunder, rising up in turbulent waves that roared with quiet, distant thunder. The female was beautiful, the woman could say, and shadowed the black female’s plain features. This female must have been a wolf of important—a leader perhaps—for her posture was held high. The white gaze of the Dahlian Adonis did not stray from the gaze of the female with eyes like water, for the black fae was a leader as well. But the posture of the Adonis was held relaxed with modesty and with the intensity of her gaze lessened and nonthreatening. She dipped her woad bound maw deeply, those eyes turning momentarily to the earth as she gave that gesture of respect. Rising, the female offered a quiet smile, almost tentative in nature. "Forgive me. I did not mean to trouble you," the alto melody sang quietly, the usual silver and gold tones of that song darkened by her troubled mind. The white orbs considered this other female with quiet, curious eyes: she felt that she had smelled her sent before within the packlands, though faintly. "I was merely passing through."
It seemed, however, that she had lingered too long for having merely passed through. Perhaps it was an omen. Perhaps she should not have stopped to rest her mind. Perhaps she should continue upon her search. But she lingered here now, as if compelled by a higher will to remain if only for a moment longer. "I am Cwmfen nic Graine, Head Warrior and Adonis of Dahlia de Mai," that soft melody greeted with introduction, hoping that her association with a pack would ease this female’s mind. "I was tracking two wolves who pose a particular threat to my pack and to the other packs as well." There was a slight pause before the woad warrior continued. "I stopped here merely to rest my mind—nothing more," the soft voice assured the other. The woad tipped tail waved once behind her comfortably as she watched the female of Crimson Dreams, the blue of the woad catching the sun in a peculiar way that made it seem as if those markings glowed. The black female did not think that the female with eyes like water would attack her, but as a warrior she was always humoring that possibility.
500+
The woman’s head turned ever so slightly. Someone approached through the bright colours of the packlands, the advance unhidden by silence and made clearly known. The woad bound ears pressed forward, wondering at such a thing. The black female did not recognize the particular patterns of this approach, but that was not surprising as she had met very few wolves of this particular pack. But the woad warrior sensed agitation in that sound. Despite this, the Dahlian female did not move and remained quite still. It was apparent from the purposeful sound of the approach that her presence was known, and the warrior was not one to turn away. It was, after all, she who had approached these foreign boarders.
The wolf that emerged from the angry hues of the vermillion foliage was a female, her eyes the calm blue of still waters. But the tranquility of such a colour was marred by anger, distrust, irritation, and those calm waters were sent asunder, rising up in turbulent waves that roared with quiet, distant thunder. The female was beautiful, the woman could say, and shadowed the black female’s plain features. This female must have been a wolf of important—a leader perhaps—for her posture was held high. The white gaze of the Dahlian Adonis did not stray from the gaze of the female with eyes like water, for the black fae was a leader as well. But the posture of the Adonis was held relaxed with modesty and with the intensity of her gaze lessened and nonthreatening. She dipped her woad bound maw deeply, those eyes turning momentarily to the earth as she gave that gesture of respect. Rising, the female offered a quiet smile, almost tentative in nature. "Forgive me. I did not mean to trouble you," the alto melody sang quietly, the usual silver and gold tones of that song darkened by her troubled mind. The white orbs considered this other female with quiet, curious eyes: she felt that she had smelled her sent before within the packlands, though faintly. "I was merely passing through."
It seemed, however, that she had lingered too long for having merely passed through. Perhaps it was an omen. Perhaps she should not have stopped to rest her mind. Perhaps she should continue upon her search. But she lingered here now, as if compelled by a higher will to remain if only for a moment longer. "I am Cwmfen nic Graine, Head Warrior and Adonis of Dahlia de Mai," that soft melody greeted with introduction, hoping that her association with a pack would ease this female’s mind. "I was tracking two wolves who pose a particular threat to my pack and to the other packs as well." There was a slight pause before the woad warrior continued. "I stopped here merely to rest my mind—nothing more," the soft voice assured the other. The woad tipped tail waved once behind her comfortably as she watched the female of Crimson Dreams, the blue of the woad catching the sun in a peculiar way that made it seem as if those markings glowed. The black female did not think that the female with eyes like water would attack her, but as a warrior she was always humoring that possibility.