10-11-2008, 06:35 PM
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500+
Autumn had come. The lands were changing from their lush greenery to the vibrant fires of a dying life, and the lives had fallen, fell, and would fall. She had seen such fires before. In the heat of battle, each life was dead, dying, or ready to die. And such finality was beautiful. It was perhaps because of such things that she loved sparring, and not simply for the rush.
The intensity of the world brightened as the sun mounted the heavens. Cwmfen blinked at the brilliance, the white orbs just as vivid, and enjoyed the simplicity of the autumn day. As was usual, the black female was alone. Solitude was becoming, and she preferred it to extended company. Perhaps this made her unfit for pack life, as she created for herself a bubble in which she existed solitarily. Yet, while life was apparently the same as it had been before, the protective boundaries of the pack eased her mind. It had been many weeks since her joining, and for many weeks her mind was at ease. Of course, in the pack life was a lot more leisurely than it had been with out, but adjustments could be made.
The woad-marked female yawned, stretched, and rose in a strange cyclic motion. With a good shake of her coat, the female relieved herself of any influences that resembled sleep, laziness, and idleness. Then she was moving. The female’s gait was lighthearted and swift, but not forced or hurried. The warm, golden light and the cool, silver air set a good tone in the female’s heart. Currently content with herself, Cwmfen traveled north, to the heart of Dahlia de Mai.
Where the black she-wolf had been lost in her own thoughts, now she had resurfaced, and she found herself trotting towards the town square. She stopped abruptly, alarmed at her location. With erect ears and posture, her surprise was made apparent. Until now, the wolf had made it a point to avoid this place. It was a place that she did not fully understand; though she knew it held importance in this pack, she felt she had no place here, especially as a newcomer. Her strangely shy nature did not wish to impose upon others, and so she had decided to come only if it was required of her.
Yet here she was.
The once-warrior took a swift scan of the town square, a sweeping gaze made discretely. Ahead, laying upon a bench, was a white she-wolf. Woad-banded ears pricked forward at this find. From this entrance, the scent of the other was left unknown, and thus Cwmfen hesitated on the threshold. The white female was not a wolf she had met before, and the timid creature was unsure as to whether or not she should approach. But she had made her presence clear, and it was too late to turn back now. Resolutely, Cwmfen proceeded, her stride slow and measured. She adjusted her posture to offer respect, as she knew that all other wolves in Dahlia de Mai were of a higher rank than herself. Once a proper distance was met, the black female stopped, and the light caught her form as she did so.
“I am Cwmfen nic Graine,” the female began. The melodic alto was quiet, as she did not wish to disturb the other female’s thoughts. “I hadn’t meant to disturb you but...” And she trailed off, forgetting why it was that she had decided to approach. Courtesy, perhaps... A small frown crossed the slender, woad-bound maw, discontent with her current inability to properly present herself. She offered a small whine of apology as she stood uncomfortably and awkwardly before the white, blue-eyed wolf.
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500+
Autumn had come. The lands were changing from their lush greenery to the vibrant fires of a dying life, and the lives had fallen, fell, and would fall. She had seen such fires before. In the heat of battle, each life was dead, dying, or ready to die. And such finality was beautiful. It was perhaps because of such things that she loved sparring, and not simply for the rush.
The intensity of the world brightened as the sun mounted the heavens. Cwmfen blinked at the brilliance, the white orbs just as vivid, and enjoyed the simplicity of the autumn day. As was usual, the black female was alone. Solitude was becoming, and she preferred it to extended company. Perhaps this made her unfit for pack life, as she created for herself a bubble in which she existed solitarily. Yet, while life was apparently the same as it had been before, the protective boundaries of the pack eased her mind. It had been many weeks since her joining, and for many weeks her mind was at ease. Of course, in the pack life was a lot more leisurely than it had been with out, but adjustments could be made.
The woad-marked female yawned, stretched, and rose in a strange cyclic motion. With a good shake of her coat, the female relieved herself of any influences that resembled sleep, laziness, and idleness. Then she was moving. The female’s gait was lighthearted and swift, but not forced or hurried. The warm, golden light and the cool, silver air set a good tone in the female’s heart. Currently content with herself, Cwmfen traveled north, to the heart of Dahlia de Mai.
Where the black she-wolf had been lost in her own thoughts, now she had resurfaced, and she found herself trotting towards the town square. She stopped abruptly, alarmed at her location. With erect ears and posture, her surprise was made apparent. Until now, the wolf had made it a point to avoid this place. It was a place that she did not fully understand; though she knew it held importance in this pack, she felt she had no place here, especially as a newcomer. Her strangely shy nature did not wish to impose upon others, and so she had decided to come only if it was required of her.
Yet here she was.
The once-warrior took a swift scan of the town square, a sweeping gaze made discretely. Ahead, laying upon a bench, was a white she-wolf. Woad-banded ears pricked forward at this find. From this entrance, the scent of the other was left unknown, and thus Cwmfen hesitated on the threshold. The white female was not a wolf she had met before, and the timid creature was unsure as to whether or not she should approach. But she had made her presence clear, and it was too late to turn back now. Resolutely, Cwmfen proceeded, her stride slow and measured. She adjusted her posture to offer respect, as she knew that all other wolves in Dahlia de Mai were of a higher rank than herself. Once a proper distance was met, the black female stopped, and the light caught her form as she did so.
“I am Cwmfen nic Graine,” the female began. The melodic alto was quiet, as she did not wish to disturb the other female’s thoughts. “I hadn’t meant to disturb you but...” And she trailed off, forgetting why it was that she had decided to approach. Courtesy, perhaps... A small frown crossed the slender, woad-bound maw, discontent with her current inability to properly present herself. She offered a small whine of apology as she stood uncomfortably and awkwardly before the white, blue-eyed wolf.