07-07-2009, 10:53 PM
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500+
Wounded animals were fierce, as were pregnant females. The Adonis was both, and there was a quiet agitation that was held quietly within her, a white noise in the backdrop of those serene eyes that had arisen with the progression of her pregnancy. And yet, despite these things, the warrior was far from defenseless. Pain was easily overcome, and although she had lain in healing for the past two weeks, her body responded with precision, with an instinctual accuracy. There was a quiet growling within her throat like the winds of a storm. Svara had indeed succeeded in obtaining her attention, although the circumstances did not sit well with the woman. Disrespect. The ferocity of her features did not lessen as that belying tranquility replied, "Perhaps. But to think in absolutes is dangerous." Nevertheless, the spear was lowered, the action as fluid and powerful as the waters of the ocean. The snarl faded from her face, and the tranquility of her features returned, though without the warmth. The disrespect that the yellow eyed girl displayed was inexcusable.
The warrior remained silent until the girl had finished, the woad tipped tail waving sinuously behind her in an agitated manner. "Are you not doing the same, showing up at our boarders? You show great disrespect, to do to the boarders as you have done. Such behavior is unbecoming of a pack wolf, especially a leader." The alto melody spoke quietly, like a soft breeze of summer. The white orbs held the gaze of the other with that natural ease. And yet, there was no hostility. Only the imprinted darkness moved within her like black ink that she sought to purge. There was a brief silence that followed her words. This neophyte must soon learn what the other leaders already knew. The black fae had already tried to show the girl to no avail. It was up to the yellow eyed girl now, as it had always been. The warrior simply preferred that such a thing would be learned before needless trouble could arise. "What happened between you happened before Cour des Miracles had been given to your scent. What happened between you is not for Cour des Miracles." The woman did not want to undo what had occurred between the two upon the shores, but the warrior would respond to this situation as she saw fit. The world would keep turning even as it did so now. And she could accept that as her lungs could accept air.
The question was one that even the black fae had asked herself. "I don’t know," the tranquil melody replied. "I know so little of such things." As always, the warrior had very little trouble admitting a lack of knowledge. Her eyes strayed momentarily from the girl to her body that harbored life. The black fae’s left hand held the extended belly with a growing fondness. Despite the blackness of the seed that had invoked the processes of life, the warrior found the life growing within her a curiosity. It was a burden, to carry that life and to be hindered from the arts of war, but it was not something she could ignore. A gift, Nemain had said, although she knew not of the nature of this gift. It was not her own life that made her heart grow dark, for she did not forget that strange intrigue of her father that had stroked her soul. It was what her body did to the one she loved that made that darkness within her linger. The white orbs returned to the girl who stood in the tree, perhaps for compensation."Soon, I suppose..."
500+
Wounded animals were fierce, as were pregnant females. The Adonis was both, and there was a quiet agitation that was held quietly within her, a white noise in the backdrop of those serene eyes that had arisen with the progression of her pregnancy. And yet, despite these things, the warrior was far from defenseless. Pain was easily overcome, and although she had lain in healing for the past two weeks, her body responded with precision, with an instinctual accuracy. There was a quiet growling within her throat like the winds of a storm. Svara had indeed succeeded in obtaining her attention, although the circumstances did not sit well with the woman. Disrespect. The ferocity of her features did not lessen as that belying tranquility replied, "Perhaps. But to think in absolutes is dangerous." Nevertheless, the spear was lowered, the action as fluid and powerful as the waters of the ocean. The snarl faded from her face, and the tranquility of her features returned, though without the warmth. The disrespect that the yellow eyed girl displayed was inexcusable.
The warrior remained silent until the girl had finished, the woad tipped tail waving sinuously behind her in an agitated manner. "Are you not doing the same, showing up at our boarders? You show great disrespect, to do to the boarders as you have done. Such behavior is unbecoming of a pack wolf, especially a leader." The alto melody spoke quietly, like a soft breeze of summer. The white orbs held the gaze of the other with that natural ease. And yet, there was no hostility. Only the imprinted darkness moved within her like black ink that she sought to purge. There was a brief silence that followed her words. This neophyte must soon learn what the other leaders already knew. The black fae had already tried to show the girl to no avail. It was up to the yellow eyed girl now, as it had always been. The warrior simply preferred that such a thing would be learned before needless trouble could arise. "What happened between you happened before Cour des Miracles had been given to your scent. What happened between you is not for Cour des Miracles." The woman did not want to undo what had occurred between the two upon the shores, but the warrior would respond to this situation as she saw fit. The world would keep turning even as it did so now. And she could accept that as her lungs could accept air.
The question was one that even the black fae had asked herself. "I don’t know," the tranquil melody replied. "I know so little of such things." As always, the warrior had very little trouble admitting a lack of knowledge. Her eyes strayed momentarily from the girl to her body that harbored life. The black fae’s left hand held the extended belly with a growing fondness. Despite the blackness of the seed that had invoked the processes of life, the warrior found the life growing within her a curiosity. It was a burden, to carry that life and to be hindered from the arts of war, but it was not something she could ignore. A gift, Nemain had said, although she knew not of the nature of this gift. It was not her own life that made her heart grow dark, for she did not forget that strange intrigue of her father that had stroked her soul. It was what her body did to the one she loved that made that darkness within her linger. The white orbs returned to the girl who stood in the tree, perhaps for compensation."Soon, I suppose..."