still the days stay the same

Vesper · 12-14-2011, 11:42 AM

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Vesper

I said, I cannot follow the river

of her myth; but I can

follow her sweet desert song

like a stream through the fiery hills.

Word Count → 558

Helotes flashed a grin, and Vesper’s lips twitched in what might have been the faintest of awkward smirks before the male’s dark brother approached with a curt greeting. Her ears lowered, and the only thought preventing her from slinking off to find a seat away from the red-eyed Lykoi was that of, of course, pride. She wasn’t going to relinquish her seat and admit her unease. Besides, it seemed that the last few stragglers of the clan had arrived, including an old grey woman who stood with ancient pride near the flames. Though the former loner had never seen her before, she could only assume that this was Kaena.

Ezekiel stood, and the tawny hybrid looked to him expectantly. After painting the ideal image of the fire clan, he drew their attention to a new point: the departure of Sage, whom Vesper had only scarcely heard about. Her brow furrowed before the Aquila mentioned the wolf pack over the mountain, and suddenly her face grew smooth in response to the cold pit forming in her stomach. Ichika no Ho-en—the peaceful group that Vesper had friends in, even though she might not respect all of their peaceful ways. Sage was with X’yrin and Kiara now, and branded a traitor because of it.

I am not a traitor if I hold allegiance to Inferni first, Vesper thought firmly, trying to ease her misgivings. I would never go to the Ichikans, to the preaching wolves, even if I respect some members there. Everyone had to have at least one outsider they cared for, other than the xenophobic, genocidal extremists that the hybrid frowned upon. She had done no wrong; she had not broken her ties with the clan she had chosen.

Hawk-yellow eyes turned in her direction, though Vesper realized that the blonde man was looking at the acquaintances beside her. The name Salsola caused her fur to bristle as she remembered the secret meeting—but she hadn’t spoken with members of the alliance for a long time. Surely, her hate for the slave-driving pack wasn’t any less since Noir Aston had told her about it, but she would avoid trouble until there was a clear message.

Mention of the AniWayan spy made her snort, and her blue eyes cut across to the pygmy Vigiles. Now she had good reason to bar the albino access when he decided to go on one of his “visits;” she was just glad that they hadn’t allowed him to wander through more than empty fields. She would relish in sending him away and reminding the Tribe-traitor of his place to the clan.

The meeting trailed of as it addressed the winter, and Vesper briefly lowered her body in a weak stretch, eyes cast skyward to the encroaching clouds. She wasn’t much fond of horses, but she knew that she’d be able to grab an extra meal for a comrade whenever she went on her patrols along the boundaries our outside them. Mulling over the points Ezekiel had brought up, she wondered if there would be a formal dismissal or if anyone would revive the meeting with a claim or concern of their own. A former loner, nameless to many others in the clan, she had nothing to add—only more to think about, especially regarding the other northern packs and her ties with them.

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