Whispers in the Dark

Zera'im · 10-02-2011, 11:39 PM

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Hi Rathy Rath. This is just outside Anathema, south of Inferni, in the Dampwoods.

It was a cool clear night, the stars above and the crescent moon the only givers of light as the sun had long since left the sky. The summer crickets had gone, giving the area outside Anathema borders a calm silence. There was a slight breeze and the moonlit grasses swayed softly. But some distance away from the pack lands a small light could be seen, a soft golden glow in the dark. This warm light was emanating from a cave, the smell of burning saffron wafted from its entrance, and every so often a small dark bat could be seen entering or exiting. Just inside the mouth of the cave a figure could be seen shrouded in a cloak and sitting close the fire. It was the figure of Zera’im and this night she was honing the blade of her scythe, the metallic ring of the stone against metal was eerie in the world outside the light.

She hummed as she honed, her strong yet aging paws moving with precision. She did not sharpen this blade for battle or hunt, but instead out of habit. She paused for a moment, rubbing her aching paws and looked outside to her stallion Korosk, who stood, falling slowly asleep, his ebon form glinting orange in the cast light from the fire. Zera’im sighed and leaned back against the cool stone of the cave wall. It had been several days since she had had the pleasure of another Luperci’s company, ever since meeting the naïve jackal girl of Anathema. Her loneliness was not unusual however, but now being surrounded by wolves made her want to meet more. But she daren’t tread across the boarders, she already ran the risk of getting caught being so close to them.

Zera’im’s mismatched eyes wandered into the sky and mouthed a silent prayer to the Great Spirit. She felt like communing with Him tonight rather than a lesser spirit, something she did often when she was lonely. He was the only one who had the ability to hold a relationship with her, the rest only masks drawing from his power. She could feel the spirits of the once living moving around this night, floating past the cave like whispers on the breeze. They felt like friends instead of enemies now that she was speaking with her God.

WC:390

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