07-25-2009, 11:27 PM
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500+
"You’re very dedicated," the soft melody commented quietly. The black fae wondered if such dedication lay with the pack as well, but she did not doubt it. That soft, imperceptible smile flickered across her quiet lips. She was glad for such dedication within the pack. At times, with so many members having simply disappeared, it was quite refreshing. She was, by no means, as familiar with the pack as those who had been there at its birth, but she had remained with Dahlia from the moment of her joining. That would not change, and she hoped that other members would find such a thing. The woman simply smiled in return. She meant what she said, for she did not waste empty compliments upon others.
"A greenhouse?" The white orbs turned to consider the structure, observing it with great care. Now that she knew what it was and what it was for, the warrior tried to understand how it worked. But unlike the strategies of war and unlike the weapons that she held, this edifice seemed much more complicated. Briefly, she reached out to touch the wood gently with her woad-bound fingers as if the building might somehow enlighten her. But the wood was dead and not alive as the trees were, and the dead wood did not sing to her as the trees did. "I’m sure it will work," the woman replied, allowing her hand to fall from the wood and to return to her belly. She did not know how such a thing would allow plants to grow in winter—it was unnatural, something that she had never heard of before that moment. But she trusted that Henratha knew of which he spoke, and so she did not question him.
And he had built this ‘greenhouse’ for Colibri Haki. The woad-banded ears pricked forward in recognition. Anu had been searching for the girl who carried the appearance of her father. The white orbs turned to follow the direction that was indicated. The woad warrior had spent very little time getting to know the members, a thing she now attempted to amend. If she could not continue with her duties as Warrior, she could extend her duties as Adonis. She listened silently to the words of the larger male, finding it curious that the girl would like plants. And the woad-marked fae wondered if the chocolate and cream girl in question ate the plants, although that would be peculiar. "You have spent much time for her," the soft melody commended as her gaze returned to the eyes hued like unripened berries. But it was simply a comment, for the warrior did not necessarily see anything in such a thing. Social cues were not something that she could read well.
And she could not read the words of humans. And so when he revealed to her that it was Colibiri’s name that was being carved upon the door, the eyes went to study the carving. As with the wood, the black fae touched the ornate letters. "You carve them with great care and great skill." There was a brief pause. Although she did not know much about building or reading or writing, the woman was familiar with the intricate knot-work of her culture and had seen them carved upon the stone and wood in Caledonia. It was with such designs that she had carefully engraved the blade of her spear, and it was with simple and patient marks that she had carved upon its shaft. The fingers of her right hand explored the darker indents in the wood. "I know the patience required to accomplish such a feat."
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"You’re very dedicated," the soft melody commented quietly. The black fae wondered if such dedication lay with the pack as well, but she did not doubt it. That soft, imperceptible smile flickered across her quiet lips. She was glad for such dedication within the pack. At times, with so many members having simply disappeared, it was quite refreshing. She was, by no means, as familiar with the pack as those who had been there at its birth, but she had remained with Dahlia from the moment of her joining. That would not change, and she hoped that other members would find such a thing. The woman simply smiled in return. She meant what she said, for she did not waste empty compliments upon others.
"A greenhouse?" The white orbs turned to consider the structure, observing it with great care. Now that she knew what it was and what it was for, the warrior tried to understand how it worked. But unlike the strategies of war and unlike the weapons that she held, this edifice seemed much more complicated. Briefly, she reached out to touch the wood gently with her woad-bound fingers as if the building might somehow enlighten her. But the wood was dead and not alive as the trees were, and the dead wood did not sing to her as the trees did. "I’m sure it will work," the woman replied, allowing her hand to fall from the wood and to return to her belly. She did not know how such a thing would allow plants to grow in winter—it was unnatural, something that she had never heard of before that moment. But she trusted that Henratha knew of which he spoke, and so she did not question him.
And he had built this ‘greenhouse’ for Colibri Haki. The woad-banded ears pricked forward in recognition. Anu had been searching for the girl who carried the appearance of her father. The white orbs turned to follow the direction that was indicated. The woad warrior had spent very little time getting to know the members, a thing she now attempted to amend. If she could not continue with her duties as Warrior, she could extend her duties as Adonis. She listened silently to the words of the larger male, finding it curious that the girl would like plants. And the woad-marked fae wondered if the chocolate and cream girl in question ate the plants, although that would be peculiar. "You have spent much time for her," the soft melody commended as her gaze returned to the eyes hued like unripened berries. But it was simply a comment, for the warrior did not necessarily see anything in such a thing. Social cues were not something that she could read well.
And she could not read the words of humans. And so when he revealed to her that it was Colibiri’s name that was being carved upon the door, the eyes went to study the carving. As with the wood, the black fae touched the ornate letters. "You carve them with great care and great skill." There was a brief pause. Although she did not know much about building or reading or writing, the woman was familiar with the intricate knot-work of her culture and had seen them carved upon the stone and wood in Caledonia. It was with such designs that she had carefully engraved the blade of her spear, and it was with simple and patient marks that she had carved upon its shaft. The fingers of her right hand explored the darker indents in the wood. "I know the patience required to accomplish such a feat."