10-09-2008, 06:39 PM
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Sorry for the wait! I was just so busy. And I would have posted this yesterday, but the forums were being dumb OnO
500+
The black fae’s pate lowered to the woad-barred paws, the bright eyes closing. The halfling was, aside from her markings, not an extraordinary creature to behold. The mix of her ancestry was indeed, exotic, and she was more pleasant than others of such a mix, but she did not mix into the standards of what was considered beautiful. Likewise, her cultural blend did not sit well with many, and she was thus not accepted as naturally beautiful either. The male however, she found to be naturally beautiful, as she found any full breed; the male seemed to have captured physically the prime genes of both sides, especially the lupine side, which she held in high regard. But one was never truly beautiful if a beautiful soul was not contained.
The song of the thunder echoed in her tarnished soul. There were many songs of nature, and those songs would resonate with some and not with others. Thunder and rain were of such songs that rang in her soul. The metal of weapons sang like a silver ring in her ears, but she herself could never use it...
“Death,” the she-wolf repeated. “All souls must make that journey over the River. Those who meet it gloriously will find the path across easy. Those who do not will wander the earth, trapped in limbo awaiting their own acceptance.” She paused, but there was no want of emphasis or thought in the silence. “I meet each battle knowing that my demise awaits on an uneasy precipice.” The melodic tones had become a quiet murmur, as if she had drifted into thought. Her head was still turned away, her eyes still closed as she listened to the nature without.
DaVinci’s laughter brought her crania about. The white orbs shone in the half light, glowing wonderfully. Her woad-marked nape bristled, though for what reason she herself did not know. “Nothing in which to believe, DaVinci?” The use of his name was, perhaps, deliberate. Cwmfen rose fluidly, gliding over to the hybrid’s side. Her obsidian fur nearly brushed against the male’s silver coat, but there seemed to be no underlying insinuation in her deliberate proximity. Innocence still remained. A slender maw pointed out into the raining world. “Have you forgotten how to hear the songs?” A pause. The banded auricles pricked forward as if hearing a distant call. “It is a song without tones, resonating like silver in your soul...” The warrior’s voice took a wistful quality and she grew silent. The white orbs looked out into the rain but saw nothing.
The lucid gaze averted to fall upon the male’s features. “Yet, if not for the songs without, at least listen to that which resides within you.” It was as if she could not comprehend how this male, who shared a common heritage, could not remember the auld ways. The white gaze directly met the steel orbs, imploring, searching... “Listen.” The gentle voice was near to a command. And she turned away from him, returning to where she had been previously prone. Having lowered herself to the decaying floor, the black wolf slipped once more into the shadows of this shelter, closing her eyes to listen to the rain’s song—or to the male should he respond.
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Sorry for the wait! I was just so busy. And I would have posted this yesterday, but the forums were being dumb OnO
500+
The black fae’s pate lowered to the woad-barred paws, the bright eyes closing. The halfling was, aside from her markings, not an extraordinary creature to behold. The mix of her ancestry was indeed, exotic, and she was more pleasant than others of such a mix, but she did not mix into the standards of what was considered beautiful. Likewise, her cultural blend did not sit well with many, and she was thus not accepted as naturally beautiful either. The male however, she found to be naturally beautiful, as she found any full breed; the male seemed to have captured physically the prime genes of both sides, especially the lupine side, which she held in high regard. But one was never truly beautiful if a beautiful soul was not contained.
The song of the thunder echoed in her tarnished soul. There were many songs of nature, and those songs would resonate with some and not with others. Thunder and rain were of such songs that rang in her soul. The metal of weapons sang like a silver ring in her ears, but she herself could never use it...
“Death,” the she-wolf repeated. “All souls must make that journey over the River. Those who meet it gloriously will find the path across easy. Those who do not will wander the earth, trapped in limbo awaiting their own acceptance.” She paused, but there was no want of emphasis or thought in the silence. “I meet each battle knowing that my demise awaits on an uneasy precipice.” The melodic tones had become a quiet murmur, as if she had drifted into thought. Her head was still turned away, her eyes still closed as she listened to the nature without.
DaVinci’s laughter brought her crania about. The white orbs shone in the half light, glowing wonderfully. Her woad-marked nape bristled, though for what reason she herself did not know. “Nothing in which to believe, DaVinci?” The use of his name was, perhaps, deliberate. Cwmfen rose fluidly, gliding over to the hybrid’s side. Her obsidian fur nearly brushed against the male’s silver coat, but there seemed to be no underlying insinuation in her deliberate proximity. Innocence still remained. A slender maw pointed out into the raining world. “Have you forgotten how to hear the songs?” A pause. The banded auricles pricked forward as if hearing a distant call. “It is a song without tones, resonating like silver in your soul...” The warrior’s voice took a wistful quality and she grew silent. The white orbs looked out into the rain but saw nothing.
The lucid gaze averted to fall upon the male’s features. “Yet, if not for the songs without, at least listen to that which resides within you.” It was as if she could not comprehend how this male, who shared a common heritage, could not remember the auld ways. The white gaze directly met the steel orbs, imploring, searching... “Listen.” The gentle voice was near to a command. And she turned away from him, returning to where she had been previously prone. Having lowered herself to the decaying floor, the black wolf slipped once more into the shadows of this shelter, closing her eyes to listen to the rain’s song—or to the male should he respond.