09-06-2009, 07:02 PM
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500+
Savina. The woad-banded aurals drank in the spoken name, recognizing it. "I have met her—it was several moons ago." The black she-wolf recalled the single encounter that she had with the one who now led the pack of Crimson Dreams. Savina Marino. Cwmfen had met Savina Marino briefly, but in those brief moments having long since passed, the black fae had learned much of which could be spoken and more of what could not be spoken. And it was perhaps the latter that was most important. And Savina understood what many wolves did not. While Cwmfen desired not the power of leading a pack in that highest of ranks, she understood its responsibilities and its duties. For that, the woad-marked warrior respected the female with sylvan eyes. "She will make a good leader." The warrior was sure that she already had. And Anu would as well. It seemed that Crimson Dreams, where once it had been mistreated by its prior leader as such that that leader had been removed, was once more in stability and peace. But such moments of chaos and discontinuity were necessities. The warrior understood that. Such understanding allowed for her perseverance.
A faint smile flickered over the black fae’s maw. Perhaps so. Perhaps Anu spoke truly. Thus far, the black fae had believed that the living were given nothing save for the path that must be followed—and yet, were there not anomalies to her own belief? It was Dreamt by the Raven Dreamer: the bearing of life had been a gift. No—that was no anomaly. Her pregnancy had been Fated long before she herself had been wrought upon the earth. The bearing of life had not been the gift. The gift had been the seed, the seed of whom would be planted within her. That was what she had Dreamt, and the Raven Dreamer had come to understand that now. The warrior did not receive what she desired. She received only what she must, and perhaps, in the end, she would feel desire for the happenings of her existence. For a brief moment, the black fae wondered for what purpose her pairing with Onus was. She wondered at the purpose of Love, that emotion that should not be of her being. Love was the anomaly. She could not understand the purpose of that emotion. It was not logical. And yet it was there, existing as the soft fog that rises from the calm waters in the silver dawn.
The silence followed for a great length. It was not until both Honor and Chastity had finished their meal that the Raven Warrior’s voice was lifted in reply. "And that shall be enough." Only what was needed was given. The small bodies of her young shifted, pressing their warmth against her belly’s fur. The warrior shifted slightly, enclosing them in the safety of her body. Briefly, she licked the fur about her belly before she went to groom the twins who responded with tired yawns and squeaks. But they obediently waited for Cwmfen to clean them before relaxing in their little pile to drift off to sleep. "Coincidence and chance—they do not exist. All things have a purpose that must e fulfilled. And when that purpose is fulfilled, Death comes to claim the soul." She wondered at the necessity of these pups within her life, or perhaps her purpose was to simply give birth to the twins so that their purposes may be fulfilled. But the black fae did not know. She was a simple warrior, a mortal that lived and then died a fleeting existence within the belligerent arena of survival.
500+
Savina. The woad-banded aurals drank in the spoken name, recognizing it. "I have met her—it was several moons ago." The black she-wolf recalled the single encounter that she had with the one who now led the pack of Crimson Dreams. Savina Marino. Cwmfen had met Savina Marino briefly, but in those brief moments having long since passed, the black fae had learned much of which could be spoken and more of what could not be spoken. And it was perhaps the latter that was most important. And Savina understood what many wolves did not. While Cwmfen desired not the power of leading a pack in that highest of ranks, she understood its responsibilities and its duties. For that, the woad-marked warrior respected the female with sylvan eyes. "She will make a good leader." The warrior was sure that she already had. And Anu would as well. It seemed that Crimson Dreams, where once it had been mistreated by its prior leader as such that that leader had been removed, was once more in stability and peace. But such moments of chaos and discontinuity were necessities. The warrior understood that. Such understanding allowed for her perseverance.
A faint smile flickered over the black fae’s maw. Perhaps so. Perhaps Anu spoke truly. Thus far, the black fae had believed that the living were given nothing save for the path that must be followed—and yet, were there not anomalies to her own belief? It was Dreamt by the Raven Dreamer: the bearing of life had been a gift. No—that was no anomaly. Her pregnancy had been Fated long before she herself had been wrought upon the earth. The bearing of life had not been the gift. The gift had been the seed, the seed of whom would be planted within her. That was what she had Dreamt, and the Raven Dreamer had come to understand that now. The warrior did not receive what she desired. She received only what she must, and perhaps, in the end, she would feel desire for the happenings of her existence. For a brief moment, the black fae wondered for what purpose her pairing with Onus was. She wondered at the purpose of Love, that emotion that should not be of her being. Love was the anomaly. She could not understand the purpose of that emotion. It was not logical. And yet it was there, existing as the soft fog that rises from the calm waters in the silver dawn.
The silence followed for a great length. It was not until both Honor and Chastity had finished their meal that the Raven Warrior’s voice was lifted in reply. "And that shall be enough." Only what was needed was given. The small bodies of her young shifted, pressing their warmth against her belly’s fur. The warrior shifted slightly, enclosing them in the safety of her body. Briefly, she licked the fur about her belly before she went to groom the twins who responded with tired yawns and squeaks. But they obediently waited for Cwmfen to clean them before relaxing in their little pile to drift off to sleep. "Coincidence and chance—they do not exist. All things have a purpose that must e fulfilled. And when that purpose is fulfilled, Death comes to claim the soul." She wondered at the necessity of these pups within her life, or perhaps her purpose was to simply give birth to the twins so that their purposes may be fulfilled. But the black fae did not know. She was a simple warrior, a mortal that lived and then died a fleeting existence within the belligerent arena of survival.