08-12-2009, 07:26 PM
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@#$%&Having tampered with various psychedelics, Anselm could claim to have a better guess than most at what the aurora looked like, despite having never seen it himself. If anything, his experiences made him more inclined to overestimate the ionic paintings of the sky, in both their colour and their fervour. Perhaps it was best to dream--he'd probably never see them personally, at any rate. Anselm was surprisingly ill-suited to the life of a transient; he required more stability than that. He knew this now.
@#$%&"That's the one," he spoke of the fire. That damned, two-faced fire. Fire had the power to destroy, but it also had the power to cleanse. With this cleansing, life could begin anew. Had it purged the old ghosts and darkness that lingered around the lands to their north? Could it erase that history? Probably not, so long as the original survivors remained. Gabriel and Kaena alone could keep the spirit of those days alive, he reckoned, though it was a strange thought. The same fire that had driven the wolves to invade his privacy and his home had also brought Inferni to him, and with that family and a purpose.
@#$%&The symbolism he saw in his own tattoos was apparently as unlikely to her as what he saw in hers. "As a reminder," he said simply, content to wonder about the gods whose blessings she desired. To him they were simply pretty marks; they accentuated the curves of her body nicely and gave her an exotic appeal. Under different circumstances he may have been likely to flirt with her--indeed, the only thing keeping him at bay now was her swollen belly. Hardly capable of playing daddy for his own kids, he certainly wasn't about to for somebody else's. She was--in all likelihood--already claimed, anyway. He could detect one male scent about her stronger than the rest, but it bore no pack affiliation and seemed distinctly coyote, which was why he couldn't draw any decisive conclusions.
@#$%&"They're reflective, almost," he responded to her inquiry. "You cannot see the black of a cat's pupil at night, only the white reflection along the back of the eye. Coupled with the lack of colour on the surface of your eyes, it makes them appear solid white." Surely she'd seen the darkness of his own pupil, and that of nearly every other creature on the planet. His head tipped to one side as he considered she might not know exactly how peculiar her gaze was--hadn't anyone said anything before? Not that he could blame her for not realising it herself sooner--for a long time, the only images he'd seen of himself were in the dull, rippled surfaces of ponds. It wasn't until he'd stumbled across a full-sized mirror in the Mansion that he'd witnessed his own form in perfect detail.
@#$%&"That's the one," he spoke of the fire. That damned, two-faced fire. Fire had the power to destroy, but it also had the power to cleanse. With this cleansing, life could begin anew. Had it purged the old ghosts and darkness that lingered around the lands to their north? Could it erase that history? Probably not, so long as the original survivors remained. Gabriel and Kaena alone could keep the spirit of those days alive, he reckoned, though it was a strange thought. The same fire that had driven the wolves to invade his privacy and his home had also brought Inferni to him, and with that family and a purpose.
@#$%&The symbolism he saw in his own tattoos was apparently as unlikely to her as what he saw in hers. "As a reminder," he said simply, content to wonder about the gods whose blessings she desired. To him they were simply pretty marks; they accentuated the curves of her body nicely and gave her an exotic appeal. Under different circumstances he may have been likely to flirt with her--indeed, the only thing keeping him at bay now was her swollen belly. Hardly capable of playing daddy for his own kids, he certainly wasn't about to for somebody else's. She was--in all likelihood--already claimed, anyway. He could detect one male scent about her stronger than the rest, but it bore no pack affiliation and seemed distinctly coyote, which was why he couldn't draw any decisive conclusions.
@#$%&"They're reflective, almost," he responded to her inquiry. "You cannot see the black of a cat's pupil at night, only the white reflection along the back of the eye. Coupled with the lack of colour on the surface of your eyes, it makes them appear solid white." Surely she'd seen the darkness of his own pupil, and that of nearly every other creature on the planet. His head tipped to one side as he considered she might not know exactly how peculiar her gaze was--hadn't anyone said anything before? Not that he could blame her for not realising it herself sooner--for a long time, the only images he'd seen of himself were in the dull, rippled surfaces of ponds. It wasn't until he'd stumbled across a full-sized mirror in the Mansion that he'd witnessed his own form in perfect detail.