06-16-2011, 09:29 PM
ooc +3
Cotl’s ticks had likely never sounded so wonderfully welcome to another living creature’s ears. The very same unrestrainable sounds were responsible for her ejection from her former home, just as sure as they were a cue she’d reached the destination of her consequential journey. What’s more, the resemblance to Lorelei was there – buried beneath his own distinctive body modifications, but there. The ghost reminder of her sister might have been jarring were she not so weary and overcome with relief. All the restless nights of self doubt and anxiety over her departure seemed to have been for naught. The welterweight coyote couldn’t restrain a tired but elated grin as her tail, though still lowered, gave a few short wags.
The smile only broadened at the mention of her father. The name ignited shinning glee in her violet eyes. Cotl’s seeming displeasure, and his companion’s demeaning comments and intense red-eyed stares were lost on little Giza. There was nothing, no measure of cruelty, which could compete with the potential arrival to a new home – to where she could find others to which she was bound by blood or loyalty to stave off the loneliness. And what an achingly solitary trip it had been.
The transition into her opitome form brought her to stand at her full unimpressive height, though her small lithe body seemed to be harbouring enough excitement for ten males twice her size. Giza fought to restrain it, to give respect where respect was due. Her head lowered slightly, and cocked mildly to the side. Her thick raven disheveled curls fell about her shoulders. Though she first addressed the skull bearing female, her eyes never reached her, falling instead somewhere near her feet.
“Marik is here? This is... good. Yes, very good.” She muttered through the thick filter of her German accent. Her tone was quiet. It would have been reasonable to assume she was speaking to herself were she not directing her sights toward the Inferni.
“My name is Giza Ulrich-Reinhilde.” Her cautious gaze traveled toward Cotl, with whom she allowed herself the briefest moment of eye contact before looking back toward the patch of forest floor near the female once more.
“And I am here to see my father, and to join his clan, if they would have me.” She answered, smile still lingering though she stood awkwardly, as if uncomfortable in her narrow limbs.
Cotl’s ticks had likely never sounded so wonderfully welcome to another living creature’s ears. The very same unrestrainable sounds were responsible for her ejection from her former home, just as sure as they were a cue she’d reached the destination of her consequential journey. What’s more, the resemblance to Lorelei was there – buried beneath his own distinctive body modifications, but there. The ghost reminder of her sister might have been jarring were she not so weary and overcome with relief. All the restless nights of self doubt and anxiety over her departure seemed to have been for naught. The welterweight coyote couldn’t restrain a tired but elated grin as her tail, though still lowered, gave a few short wags.
The smile only broadened at the mention of her father. The name ignited shinning glee in her violet eyes. Cotl’s seeming displeasure, and his companion’s demeaning comments and intense red-eyed stares were lost on little Giza. There was nothing, no measure of cruelty, which could compete with the potential arrival to a new home – to where she could find others to which she was bound by blood or loyalty to stave off the loneliness. And what an achingly solitary trip it had been.
The transition into her opitome form brought her to stand at her full unimpressive height, though her small lithe body seemed to be harbouring enough excitement for ten males twice her size. Giza fought to restrain it, to give respect where respect was due. Her head lowered slightly, and cocked mildly to the side. Her thick raven disheveled curls fell about her shoulders. Though she first addressed the skull bearing female, her eyes never reached her, falling instead somewhere near her feet.
“Marik is here? This is... good. Yes, very good.” She muttered through the thick filter of her German accent. Her tone was quiet. It would have been reasonable to assume she was speaking to herself were she not directing her sights toward the Inferni.
“My name is Giza Ulrich-Reinhilde.” Her cautious gaze traveled toward Cotl, with whom she allowed herself the briefest moment of eye contact before looking back toward the patch of forest floor near the female once more.
“And I am here to see my father, and to join his clan, if they would have me.” She answered, smile still lingering though she stood awkwardly, as if uncomfortable in her narrow limbs.