07-05-2009, 01:42 AM
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500+
The aggression that had arisen suddenly within her was not like the belligerence of war. In war, things were clear, sharpened in her vision. But here, it was clouded. She could see, but, as an archaic animal, she recognized nothing save for another wolf, a potential threat. The Raven Spear sung with hostility and hunger in the silence as the warrior’s snarl fading to a quiet, incessant growl that rolled as naturally as the breath of her lungs. The black wolf held her pose in the silence as if able to sense that the potential threat was still and unmoving, that the potential threat was benign. And yet, holding the Spear with her right hand alone, the wolf did not relinquish her position. There was a wild ferocity within those white orbs, and it was as if she considered attacking the one opposite her. And then the woad bound ears, already having been pressed forward with that aggression, flickered at the sound that was emitted. The sound was familiar, but its progress to the mind that understood those words was slow. Eventually, however, the archaic fog was cleared.
The sound had been a spoken name—her own name. The Dahlian Warrior blinked once in recognition, clearing away that obscuring haze. "Anu," she responded immediately, able now to recognize the scent and then the face of the female before her. The white orbs saw those eyes that held water, and her posture shifted, the hackles lowering and the Spear retracting. Hostility fell from her features, and the quiet tranquility was once more obtained. The woad bound ears flickered back apologetically. "Forgive me, Anu.... I did not mean to be so hostile." The words were spoken formally, and the Dahlian Adonis gave a brief dip of her maw. The black fae stepped toward the tree and relinquished the Spear, setting it quietly and allowing its fierce song to grow quiet within her. She did not know why such hostility had risen within her. She knew only that it had felt very primal, and that something within the environment, or perhaps something within herself, had provoked such a thing.
"I hope you don’t mind if I sit," the quiet voice sang at length. But the Dahlian did not wait for a response, for she was now within her own territory and knew that Anu was no threat to the pack or to herself. Several limping steps allowed the pregnant female to lean against the tree, to use the support of its trunk to help herself to the earth. The female was silent as she moved, even this simple feat a great effort. She was careful to retain the extension of her right leg so as to not provoke the wound upon her thigh, her left arm, without strength for the wound on her neck, supporting her growing stomach. When finally the simple objective had been reached, the warrior turned her white gaze to the female with eyes like the water. "What brings you to Dahlia?" The quiet words held no sign of the difficulty or of the pain of her movements. Such a thing came effortlessly now, a thing that she had learned to do long ago in order to conceal her physical weakness.
500+
The aggression that had arisen suddenly within her was not like the belligerence of war. In war, things were clear, sharpened in her vision. But here, it was clouded. She could see, but, as an archaic animal, she recognized nothing save for another wolf, a potential threat. The Raven Spear sung with hostility and hunger in the silence as the warrior’s snarl fading to a quiet, incessant growl that rolled as naturally as the breath of her lungs. The black wolf held her pose in the silence as if able to sense that the potential threat was still and unmoving, that the potential threat was benign. And yet, holding the Spear with her right hand alone, the wolf did not relinquish her position. There was a wild ferocity within those white orbs, and it was as if she considered attacking the one opposite her. And then the woad bound ears, already having been pressed forward with that aggression, flickered at the sound that was emitted. The sound was familiar, but its progress to the mind that understood those words was slow. Eventually, however, the archaic fog was cleared.
The sound had been a spoken name—her own name. The Dahlian Warrior blinked once in recognition, clearing away that obscuring haze. "Anu," she responded immediately, able now to recognize the scent and then the face of the female before her. The white orbs saw those eyes that held water, and her posture shifted, the hackles lowering and the Spear retracting. Hostility fell from her features, and the quiet tranquility was once more obtained. The woad bound ears flickered back apologetically. "Forgive me, Anu.... I did not mean to be so hostile." The words were spoken formally, and the Dahlian Adonis gave a brief dip of her maw. The black fae stepped toward the tree and relinquished the Spear, setting it quietly and allowing its fierce song to grow quiet within her. She did not know why such hostility had risen within her. She knew only that it had felt very primal, and that something within the environment, or perhaps something within herself, had provoked such a thing.
"I hope you don’t mind if I sit," the quiet voice sang at length. But the Dahlian did not wait for a response, for she was now within her own territory and knew that Anu was no threat to the pack or to herself. Several limping steps allowed the pregnant female to lean against the tree, to use the support of its trunk to help herself to the earth. The female was silent as she moved, even this simple feat a great effort. She was careful to retain the extension of her right leg so as to not provoke the wound upon her thigh, her left arm, without strength for the wound on her neck, supporting her growing stomach. When finally the simple objective had been reached, the warrior turned her white gaze to the female with eyes like the water. "What brings you to Dahlia?" The quiet words held no sign of the difficulty or of the pain of her movements. Such a thing came effortlessly now, a thing that she had learned to do long ago in order to conceal her physical weakness.