06-22-2009, 12:36 AM
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500+
The scarred male was dreaming. The woman’s white orbs watched him curiously, almost tentatively, as if she had stumbled upon some private place in which she did not belong. She wondered if her Dreaming appeared that way, but she could not say. There had been only one instance in which she had Dreamt violently enough to wake with a start, and Onus had been there. He had not seemed disturbed until she had awaken—no she did not think that she Dreamed like this. And she did not think that his Dreaming would be the same. His appearance was not like one of either Caledonia or Korea. She did not know where he came from, but the gods and goddesses that moved the Dreaming would not be strong within wherever lands this male hailed from.
She was close enough to feel the heat of his body, elevated by his rapid heartbeat. There was fear in the air, thick and intoxicating, tugging at the primal instincts of the wolf. But the control that the warrior held was able to withstand those strong instincts, and her limbs were still, unmoving as the white male awoke. But the fear seemed only to dissipate slightly, not alleviated by the leaving of the dreaming. The warrior did not move, unwilling to disturb unnerved awakening of this male, and was silent. She breathed in his scent, catching the distinguishing mark of Crimson Dreams. It was a familiar scent, but one that she had not smelled often, so it was not surprising that she did not know this male. There were many wolves that were unfamiliar to her, but her duty was not to know these individuals. She was simply to protect the pack and ward of any threats of danger. That was all. As Adonis, she would familiarize herself with leaders, but there was a quiet warning within her mind of acquainting herself with others, especially with the crow wolf so intent upon having her. She did not need to endanger anyone needlessly.
Suddenly, he lifted his muzzle and howled to the sky. Once more, the woman resisted the urge to join the call, but this was no chorus howl. For that moment, the woman listened to the song that she heard so little of these days. His voice seemed to belie and complement his appearance, and she had a sample of the essence of his soul, a blue colour. When the call ended, it echoed as in a cave within her mind. "Do your Dreams haunt you?" The alto melody was soft as she broke the silence that followed the howl. For a moment longer the woman was still, allowing the scarred, white male to adjust to her presence. After several moments had passed, the woman took several, fluid steps forward, circling around so that he could better see her. She wondered if she would be able to help him, for she was a Dreamer. But she didn’t know if her knowledge would be limited due to the different minds. Her movements ceased once more as she held that nonthreatening air. And yet, the warrior’s mind was still alert, aware that every creature had the potential to be an enemy.
500+
The scarred male was dreaming. The woman’s white orbs watched him curiously, almost tentatively, as if she had stumbled upon some private place in which she did not belong. She wondered if her Dreaming appeared that way, but she could not say. There had been only one instance in which she had Dreamt violently enough to wake with a start, and Onus had been there. He had not seemed disturbed until she had awaken—no she did not think that she Dreamed like this. And she did not think that his Dreaming would be the same. His appearance was not like one of either Caledonia or Korea. She did not know where he came from, but the gods and goddesses that moved the Dreaming would not be strong within wherever lands this male hailed from.
She was close enough to feel the heat of his body, elevated by his rapid heartbeat. There was fear in the air, thick and intoxicating, tugging at the primal instincts of the wolf. But the control that the warrior held was able to withstand those strong instincts, and her limbs were still, unmoving as the white male awoke. But the fear seemed only to dissipate slightly, not alleviated by the leaving of the dreaming. The warrior did not move, unwilling to disturb unnerved awakening of this male, and was silent. She breathed in his scent, catching the distinguishing mark of Crimson Dreams. It was a familiar scent, but one that she had not smelled often, so it was not surprising that she did not know this male. There were many wolves that were unfamiliar to her, but her duty was not to know these individuals. She was simply to protect the pack and ward of any threats of danger. That was all. As Adonis, she would familiarize herself with leaders, but there was a quiet warning within her mind of acquainting herself with others, especially with the crow wolf so intent upon having her. She did not need to endanger anyone needlessly.
Suddenly, he lifted his muzzle and howled to the sky. Once more, the woman resisted the urge to join the call, but this was no chorus howl. For that moment, the woman listened to the song that she heard so little of these days. His voice seemed to belie and complement his appearance, and she had a sample of the essence of his soul, a blue colour. When the call ended, it echoed as in a cave within her mind. "Do your Dreams haunt you?" The alto melody was soft as she broke the silence that followed the howl. For a moment longer the woman was still, allowing the scarred, white male to adjust to her presence. After several moments had passed, the woman took several, fluid steps forward, circling around so that he could better see her. She wondered if she would be able to help him, for she was a Dreamer. But she didn’t know if her knowledge would be limited due to the different minds. Her movements ceased once more as she held that nonthreatening air. And yet, the warrior’s mind was still alert, aware that every creature had the potential to be an enemy.