01-13-2011, 11:41 PM
OOC: Yay! Hello. 
Thanks for responding. ^_^ Word Count: 1027.
IC:
It plopped wetly, falling apart on top of more of itself. She watched it crumble, cracks severing it into large chunks that fell away to tiny bits. The pieces lay in the darkness, lit by the moon and viewed easily by her extremely light sensitive eyes. Her first instinct was to search for its maker, the person who had tossed it so carelessly, but its image distracted her mind. The snowball brought her back to a place she had not been for a long time, to her childhood memories. Though they were not actually too far back, Saraqael being barely out of her first year of life, she had spent much of her youth trying to grow up as fast as possible. Her big brother had been her partial inspiration for that. Nearly a year her elder, he was strong, intelligent, accomplished, wild, and most importantly, free. Not that her parents ever put too many restrictions on her, but she was their baby, their tiny, fragile daughter, and even if they never imposed a strict will upon her, she had always been subjected to the worry in their eyes, the notes of concern in their voices. The tiny coy was oh so breakable, her heart a sacred thing to be guarded, her body prone to shatter at the first touch of another. At first, it had made her fearful of others but then she resented her parents and began to think in terms of what she wanted, which was essentially to life the life of a dirty hedonist. Her paranoia, suspicion, and skittishness checked her, preventing her from spiraling out of control too quickly, but she managed always to come back from the edge of insanity. The girl's primary source of enjoyment was sensory stimulation to the point where she experienced brief bouts of synethesia, mistaking textures for tastes, sounds for colors, or any number of other combinations, though it was fitful, leaving her primarily to experience the world like everyone else. That, she never dreamed of limiting herself with – she lived a solitary life and would take advantage of new opportunities to touch, taste, hear, see, or smell things whenever she was able. The drugs and the sex, when they happened, were casual and temporary, certainly not a defining characteristic of her lifestyle. The characters surrounding those actvities were often too unsavory for her with the exception of the Lykoi girls, of which she remembered Sage most fondly. The tawny wood nymph was a soft, sweet girl, curious in her examination of such an interesting and freakish specimen of coyote such as Saraqael but accepting nonetheless. It was rare that she was ever soothed by a person, but Sage's vibe did it for her. Despite that it was in direct opposition to everything she was at core, the pot smoking, free loving creature somehow demanded her implicit trust and made her feel at peace in her mind and in her heart. Few had ever had that effect on her before and it was a strange thing to admit, even to herself who readily enjoyed the company and pleasures of the hybrid.
But someone had thrown the blob of snow in her general direction. She wondered if he had trouble seeing her based on the fact that he did not approach. From her perspective, his ear piercings gave him away. Right ear glittering in the faint light still persisting through the night, it allowed her to pinpoint his location and guess his size from the distance between them and the space between the ground and line of shiny lights. He was medium sized which meant that he would tower over her when they neared, she being only four feet and ten inches. Her species was naturally small, but she was still slightly undersized, a weak version of what she might have been if she had taken after her mother more. Instead she resembled closely her father, wickedly edged and thin like a finely made dagger. Large, almond shaped eyes slanted in her face, wide in the middle but pointed at both edges, lending her a faerie look. Her thinness was impressive and her colors were shocking to many because they were both extremes of blankest white and darkest black. Purposefully she moved away from any trees at her back, bringing herself into easier view. It was a risky, bold behavior for one that expected to be picked off by wolves by whatever means they deemed necessary: bows, ambush, traps, slingshots. Exposing herself so blatantly was difficult and fear inducing. Still, she had come for a reason – to meet them, to know who they were, and most importantly, to prove to herself that not all wolves in the area wanted to kill her regardless of their numbers and the inherent superiority she assumed them all to feel.
Softly, she called out in a clear, high voice. “Hello out there. I do not know if you see me, but I see you. My name is Saraqael Destroying Angel Kanga. I hail from Inferni. I traveled here from a place called Phoenix Valley. I do not seek trouble, only to meet with you and learn about your pack.” It would have been ideal if they made friends but she never counted on anything. All she knew was that he was male and that he smelled quite like the borders that she had not dared to cross. Again, she had put her self, possibly her life, at risk by fully revealing her location and wasting time speaking instead of hiding. For all she knew, he now had a great bead on her and was planning to shoot her straight through the throat. Knowing nothing about the surrounding packs left her at a huge disadvantage. Considering Inferni's hostile policies, there was no telling what sort of visiting rules this pack had. It was possible that their groups were enemies, though it would have been wise of Kaena to have let her know who they were and were not friends with on the day she had been accepted. The coyote waited in the darkness, expectant, hopeful, and suppressing her fear.
Thanks for responding. ^_^ Word Count: 1027.IC:
It plopped wetly, falling apart on top of more of itself. She watched it crumble, cracks severing it into large chunks that fell away to tiny bits. The pieces lay in the darkness, lit by the moon and viewed easily by her extremely light sensitive eyes. Her first instinct was to search for its maker, the person who had tossed it so carelessly, but its image distracted her mind. The snowball brought her back to a place she had not been for a long time, to her childhood memories. Though they were not actually too far back, Saraqael being barely out of her first year of life, she had spent much of her youth trying to grow up as fast as possible. Her big brother had been her partial inspiration for that. Nearly a year her elder, he was strong, intelligent, accomplished, wild, and most importantly, free. Not that her parents ever put too many restrictions on her, but she was their baby, their tiny, fragile daughter, and even if they never imposed a strict will upon her, she had always been subjected to the worry in their eyes, the notes of concern in their voices. The tiny coy was oh so breakable, her heart a sacred thing to be guarded, her body prone to shatter at the first touch of another. At first, it had made her fearful of others but then she resented her parents and began to think in terms of what she wanted, which was essentially to life the life of a dirty hedonist. Her paranoia, suspicion, and skittishness checked her, preventing her from spiraling out of control too quickly, but she managed always to come back from the edge of insanity. The girl's primary source of enjoyment was sensory stimulation to the point where she experienced brief bouts of synethesia, mistaking textures for tastes, sounds for colors, or any number of other combinations, though it was fitful, leaving her primarily to experience the world like everyone else. That, she never dreamed of limiting herself with – she lived a solitary life and would take advantage of new opportunities to touch, taste, hear, see, or smell things whenever she was able. The drugs and the sex, when they happened, were casual and temporary, certainly not a defining characteristic of her lifestyle. The characters surrounding those actvities were often too unsavory for her with the exception of the Lykoi girls, of which she remembered Sage most fondly. The tawny wood nymph was a soft, sweet girl, curious in her examination of such an interesting and freakish specimen of coyote such as Saraqael but accepting nonetheless. It was rare that she was ever soothed by a person, but Sage's vibe did it for her. Despite that it was in direct opposition to everything she was at core, the pot smoking, free loving creature somehow demanded her implicit trust and made her feel at peace in her mind and in her heart. Few had ever had that effect on her before and it was a strange thing to admit, even to herself who readily enjoyed the company and pleasures of the hybrid.
But someone had thrown the blob of snow in her general direction. She wondered if he had trouble seeing her based on the fact that he did not approach. From her perspective, his ear piercings gave him away. Right ear glittering in the faint light still persisting through the night, it allowed her to pinpoint his location and guess his size from the distance between them and the space between the ground and line of shiny lights. He was medium sized which meant that he would tower over her when they neared, she being only four feet and ten inches. Her species was naturally small, but she was still slightly undersized, a weak version of what she might have been if she had taken after her mother more. Instead she resembled closely her father, wickedly edged and thin like a finely made dagger. Large, almond shaped eyes slanted in her face, wide in the middle but pointed at both edges, lending her a faerie look. Her thinness was impressive and her colors were shocking to many because they were both extremes of blankest white and darkest black. Purposefully she moved away from any trees at her back, bringing herself into easier view. It was a risky, bold behavior for one that expected to be picked off by wolves by whatever means they deemed necessary: bows, ambush, traps, slingshots. Exposing herself so blatantly was difficult and fear inducing. Still, she had come for a reason – to meet them, to know who they were, and most importantly, to prove to herself that not all wolves in the area wanted to kill her regardless of their numbers and the inherent superiority she assumed them all to feel.
Softly, she called out in a clear, high voice. “Hello out there. I do not know if you see me, but I see you. My name is Saraqael Destroying Angel Kanga. I hail from Inferni. I traveled here from a place called Phoenix Valley. I do not seek trouble, only to meet with you and learn about your pack.” It would have been ideal if they made friends but she never counted on anything. All she knew was that he was male and that he smelled quite like the borders that she had not dared to cross. Again, she had put her self, possibly her life, at risk by fully revealing her location and wasting time speaking instead of hiding. For all she knew, he now had a great bead on her and was planning to shoot her straight through the throat. Knowing nothing about the surrounding packs left her at a huge disadvantage. Considering Inferni's hostile policies, there was no telling what sort of visiting rules this pack had. It was possible that their groups were enemies, though it would have been wise of Kaena to have let her know who they were and were not friends with on the day she had been accepted. The coyote waited in the darkness, expectant, hopeful, and suppressing her fear.