05-25-2012, 03:09 PM
Alegria didn't shy away with her glance. She rarely did. At first it was out of daring, back when she had a nature that strived to rebel and break away, but soon it became a habit, and before long others' gazes on her - and her gaze on them - no longer bothered Alegria in the least, even at signs of discomfort from those she gazed at. She was quick to pick up on subliminal things like feelings, and found detachedly that she did not care.
Wind brought with it the smell of cold white bone and newly birthed grass. Spring had wrestled winter's claws from the land and was instilling its sickly sweet cover over everything. Alegria wasn't sure which she preferred: she did not belong to those who stoically claimed to love winter, the cold, the bare trees - she listened to her body when it told her, from underneath her relatively thin coat of fur, that it was cold - yet she could do nothing but watch with distaste as other wolves, usually the young females prone to love, pranced about merrily as the weather grew more mild.
Vesper was by now sneering, a distinct expression of pugnacity that Alegria knew was part of her nature. "You don't know how I've changed," Vesper retorted with characteristic frost. "I fight for a reason now."
"Do you?" Alegria responded with evident lack of interest. To be truthful it was not so much a lack of interest but a show. She did not flare up in passion, and she did not hate either. "Always found loyalties a bit overrated." She paused and glanced behind Vesper towards where she indicated - the land that sprawled behind her. Alegria sobered slightly. It was nice land - if Vesper was choosing to tie herself down, here was as good a place as any to do so. She gave a slight nod of understanding now, still tinged with that edge of mirth that coiled the ends of her lips.
"So you're no longer the girl who killed my brother?" she added, offhand as ever, eyes flicking back to Vesper's with a total lack of remorse or anger - yet with a total lack of sympathy, either, and blunt as ever, her voice deadpan.
At Vesper's question, she gave a sort of short-lived, merry laugh. A feminine, warbling note that sang pure and quick. "Oh, no, dear Vesper, you've got it all wrong," she retorted, the laughter still in her voice. "I'm still the nasty bitch who won't give a fuck about anyone." The tone was laughing and honest all at once, a cocktail of delicious, poisonous fruit.
"Why are you here?"
"Heard about you," Ria retorted. "Wanted to see if my Vesper was really the Vesper I'd been hearing about."
Wind brought with it the smell of cold white bone and newly birthed grass. Spring had wrestled winter's claws from the land and was instilling its sickly sweet cover over everything. Alegria wasn't sure which she preferred: she did not belong to those who stoically claimed to love winter, the cold, the bare trees - she listened to her body when it told her, from underneath her relatively thin coat of fur, that it was cold - yet she could do nothing but watch with distaste as other wolves, usually the young females prone to love, pranced about merrily as the weather grew more mild.
Vesper was by now sneering, a distinct expression of pugnacity that Alegria knew was part of her nature. "You don't know how I've changed," Vesper retorted with characteristic frost. "I fight for a reason now."
"Do you?" Alegria responded with evident lack of interest. To be truthful it was not so much a lack of interest but a show. She did not flare up in passion, and she did not hate either. "Always found loyalties a bit overrated." She paused and glanced behind Vesper towards where she indicated - the land that sprawled behind her. Alegria sobered slightly. It was nice land - if Vesper was choosing to tie herself down, here was as good a place as any to do so. She gave a slight nod of understanding now, still tinged with that edge of mirth that coiled the ends of her lips.
"So you're no longer the girl who killed my brother?" she added, offhand as ever, eyes flicking back to Vesper's with a total lack of remorse or anger - yet with a total lack of sympathy, either, and blunt as ever, her voice deadpan.
At Vesper's question, she gave a sort of short-lived, merry laugh. A feminine, warbling note that sang pure and quick. "Oh, no, dear Vesper, you've got it all wrong," she retorted, the laughter still in her voice. "I'm still the nasty bitch who won't give a fuck about anyone." The tone was laughing and honest all at once, a cocktail of delicious, poisonous fruit.
"Why are you here?"
"Heard about you," Ria retorted. "Wanted to see if my Vesper was really the Vesper I'd been hearing about."