03-01-2012, 05:53 PM
Caprica was out, riding her mare at a steady canter across the foothills, trying to blow away some cobwebs when she heard the howl. The first one confused her: it was a voice she didn't recognise, from the direction of the temple. She doubted it was meant for her, and the general alarm had not been sounded, so albeit a little puzzled, the dark woman didn't turn her horse at once. The further she got, though, the more the call preyed on her mind. There had been a note in it that gave her concern. She slowed the mare to a trot, and then came to a complete stop, while she thought for a moment. Then she rolled back her head on her neck with a great sigh: yes, she couldn't bear it, she was going to have to go and check out the disturbance.
The thoroughbred was pacing reluctantly back the way she'd come, sullen from having her run interrupted, when Caprica heard the next cry: and this one made her eyes become as hard as emeralds, the whites of her teeth showing. Her brother had called for help, and the sound cut into her like a knife. Nobody touched her little brothers. Caprica had been through hell for them already, and had all but sliced a bear in half in the process. The horse was shocked to find her usually laconic mistress suddenly digging her heels in and driving her forwards with an imperious and urgent bark, and answered with a full-tilt gallop like the racehorse that, in another world, she might have been.
They reached the cabin and Caprica barely gave the building - new to her - a glance. Octavius stood outside, his expression panicky. Caprica hurled herself off the mare's back and hurtled to his side, her stance poised and warrior-like as she snapped her head this way and that, searching for the cause of his distress with fury in her eyes. "You okay? What's wrong?" He didn't look damaged, and so the young Anatheman relaxed a little, but her face was still charged with suspicion. The scent of the woman reached her then, and she moved to the entrance of the house. "Who's there?" she called out. She needed to get a handle on what was going on, and fast.
The thoroughbred was pacing reluctantly back the way she'd come, sullen from having her run interrupted, when Caprica heard the next cry: and this one made her eyes become as hard as emeralds, the whites of her teeth showing. Her brother had called for help, and the sound cut into her like a knife. Nobody touched her little brothers. Caprica had been through hell for them already, and had all but sliced a bear in half in the process. The horse was shocked to find her usually laconic mistress suddenly digging her heels in and driving her forwards with an imperious and urgent bark, and answered with a full-tilt gallop like the racehorse that, in another world, she might have been.
They reached the cabin and Caprica barely gave the building - new to her - a glance. Octavius stood outside, his expression panicky. Caprica hurled herself off the mare's back and hurtled to his side, her stance poised and warrior-like as she snapped her head this way and that, searching for the cause of his distress with fury in her eyes. "You okay? What's wrong?" He didn't look damaged, and so the young Anatheman relaxed a little, but her face was still charged with suspicion. The scent of the woman reached her then, and she moved to the entrance of the house. "Who's there?" she called out. She needed to get a handle on what was going on, and fast.