Denied Instinct / DND

Yi TaeKyung · 07-06-2012, 10:47 AM

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Let’s see where this goes, ^u^ Thanks for being patient with me, too. TK is in Borgata Tocatl, near the stables and livestock.
WC: 572

The morning sun hung low still, clinging to the horizon. Rays of slate, silver, and gold crossed the dampened heavens, the mixture of the early pallet encouraged by the dense and quiet clouds. Rain had come that night, the patter of weather upon the cabin masking the sound of silence. It had not disturbed the slave’s sleep. And despite the masked sunrise, she had arisen early, as she was accustomed to doing. The wet world had not hampered her training. It had not even seemed to phase her. The black Jindo-wolf had left the cabin, those lunar orbs impassive as she moved through the woods, just another shadow in the night. She wandered away from the shadows of the cabin, from the dark, black shade of the Crow Wolf whose heavy darkness threatened to swallow her. And yet he followed her still in the dark. Out in the woods, however, she was not consumed by the irrational fear of the ghost. Out in the woods, the slave felt the constraints of her enslavement less. And able to practice her martial art, the woman felt the only freedom that her dark soul required.

The Korean’s training that day had involved not just the usual Taekwondo techniques. She had practiced climbing the trees, discovering more efficient and silent methods. There had been occasion in the past when the advantage of height had been required, and when silence had been an asset. It was ideal, the fighter had decided, to continue this practice every once in a while. That morning, with the rains making the bark slick and the leaves weep, she had set about the task of silent tree climbing with a renewed effort. Balancing her weight and stepping carefully became more difficult to conceal, for any movement would cause the rain-dew to fall upon the earth in an unnatural manner. Although she wore the humanesque shape, balancing her body as a true wolf would was far more effective. The early morning squirrels chattered as she passed, angry and made apprehensive by her menacing presence. But, for the task at hand, the slave had not hunted them. Instead, she had watched them, attempting to gain some distorted fruit of knowledge in order to perfect her deadly art.

Her body having toiled for many hours, the obsidian-furred Korean now retired from her training and prepared to move into the duties of which Salvia had commanded. The early morning sun peered through the dense clouds, illuminating the fields of what she had learned was ‘live stock.’ In passing, the woman stopped. The golden septum ring shone brightly to emphasize her status within the pack. Lunar orbs lifted, glinting and glowing in the half-light of the morn, a feral light flickering within. Her gaze settled upon a red elk. She knew it belonged to one of the ranked wolves—which wolf she did not care—but instinct was strong within her. A desire to hunt the creature had clung to her since the day she had caught its sent. And it was that morning that, as many morning before, the black fae paused to behold the prey-beast that was held in such high regard that she, a wolf, could not hunt it. Hunger grew within her. Black auricles lifted forth, and the wolf’s body took the position of stealth. But the slave did not move. The Korean was motionless, her fathomless gaze fixed upon the red elk.

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