08-05-2009, 03:36 PM
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His soft touch against her neck was welcomed, his contact greatly desired, and she did not flinch away, perhaps too tired for such a thing. His proximity caused her instinct to grow nervous, but she did not growl or war him away, knowing that she did not need to protect her young from him. She breathed deeply, inhaling his strange and unique scent. And the words of the now unmasked coyote brought a knowing smile upon her quiet lips. "I can’t believe it either," she breathed quietly, "but she doesn’t lie." The female she had whelped was innocent still, her soul clean and unmarred by the troubles of the world. And the black fae wondered why the male had taken Corvus’ coat, but she believed that he, too, held a clean soul. And she was lucky, she thought, that what had happened to her had not harmed them, that the crow wolf had not made his mark upon them as he had upon her.
In the silence that followed the melody of her voice, the black fae resisted the call of sleep, although that call had not yet grown strong. There was a peace that settled through her, the calm after the tempest of the waters in her soul, and yet, it was a peace without war. The white orbs continued to watch the slowly changing light, her body still and unmoving as the pups suckled at her breasts. The sound of the gruff voice caused her ear to swivel back to catch it. Honor and Chastity. The black wolf made a soft sound of agreement. "Those are good names," the soft susurrus sang. Those were good names, and they would encourage great things. The black female liked that the names were not the same as her own, for she did not wish the same fate upon them, nor did she wish the same fate as Onus had suffered upon them. Perhaps these lives could begin with peace and not war. Perhaps these lives would have more purpose and worth than her own.
"How are secondary names created here?" At times, the names seemed to take the father’s second, which was strange to the Caledonian, as her second name told only of her lineage. But perhaps they could take their father’s name, for she wished them to be strong and to survive in the Wild’s life challenge. "Perhaps," the quiet voice suggested, "they can take your second name." Or did he have a second name? The warrior lifted her head, turning so that she could look upon his unmasked face. But the pups stopped drinking, growing tired even as she did. Gently, she turned, her maw lowering as she licked them with her soft touch. Her nose sniffed them silently, remembering their unique scents, and remembering once more that their father was one that she loved.
"They are beautiful," the quiet song whispered as she looked down at them, a quiet, tranquil smile gracing her maw as it had not done in many moons. Their sleeping forms were gently breathtaking, and the new mother watched them for several moments. She turned to look upon Onus, a soft love upon her features. Soon, she would want to move them to her den, but for a moment, she would let the pups rest, and she would let her body rest, too.
His soft touch against her neck was welcomed, his contact greatly desired, and she did not flinch away, perhaps too tired for such a thing. His proximity caused her instinct to grow nervous, but she did not growl or war him away, knowing that she did not need to protect her young from him. She breathed deeply, inhaling his strange and unique scent. And the words of the now unmasked coyote brought a knowing smile upon her quiet lips. "I can’t believe it either," she breathed quietly, "but she doesn’t lie." The female she had whelped was innocent still, her soul clean and unmarred by the troubles of the world. And the black fae wondered why the male had taken Corvus’ coat, but she believed that he, too, held a clean soul. And she was lucky, she thought, that what had happened to her had not harmed them, that the crow wolf had not made his mark upon them as he had upon her.
In the silence that followed the melody of her voice, the black fae resisted the call of sleep, although that call had not yet grown strong. There was a peace that settled through her, the calm after the tempest of the waters in her soul, and yet, it was a peace without war. The white orbs continued to watch the slowly changing light, her body still and unmoving as the pups suckled at her breasts. The sound of the gruff voice caused her ear to swivel back to catch it. Honor and Chastity. The black wolf made a soft sound of agreement. "Those are good names," the soft susurrus sang. Those were good names, and they would encourage great things. The black female liked that the names were not the same as her own, for she did not wish the same fate upon them, nor did she wish the same fate as Onus had suffered upon them. Perhaps these lives could begin with peace and not war. Perhaps these lives would have more purpose and worth than her own.
"How are secondary names created here?" At times, the names seemed to take the father’s second, which was strange to the Caledonian, as her second name told only of her lineage. But perhaps they could take their father’s name, for she wished them to be strong and to survive in the Wild’s life challenge. "Perhaps," the quiet voice suggested, "they can take your second name." Or did he have a second name? The warrior lifted her head, turning so that she could look upon his unmasked face. But the pups stopped drinking, growing tired even as she did. Gently, she turned, her maw lowering as she licked them with her soft touch. Her nose sniffed them silently, remembering their unique scents, and remembering once more that their father was one that she loved.
"They are beautiful," the quiet song whispered as she looked down at them, a quiet, tranquil smile gracing her maw as it had not done in many moons. Their sleeping forms were gently breathtaking, and the new mother watched them for several moments. She turned to look upon Onus, a soft love upon her features. Soon, she would want to move them to her den, but for a moment, she would let the pups rest, and she would let her body rest, too.