10-12-2008, 11:37 PM
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500+
Cwmfen blinked in the bright light. The white female had responded to her, and she stood shyly by. The expression was not unkind, and, though there seemed nothing unusual about this wolf, there was something about what was in the clarity of those blue eyes that struck her. The intensity of the cerulean gaze suggested a high rank, but who exactly was this white female? Though she was unsure, it was clear that the other was of a significantly higher rank than she herself was; the feel that she had had while with Grayson, who she had not seen for some time now, was quite different. The black female decided that it was similar to what she had felt while she was with Haku, but it had been long enough that she wasn’t sure to what extent these auras were alike. And, without such comparisons with which to make the white female relative, Cwmfen was at a loss for who and what this female was.
The woad-marked female shifted slightly, making humble her posture. The banded ears swiveled back, though most likely out of shyness than for pure submission. A lowered tail, though not tucked, and scarcely bent limbs made complete the modest posture.
A small sigh of relief was permitted to escape her jaws as the white one spoke. Her voice was pleasant to hear, and the given smile was welcomed. The words, though seemingly insignificant, lifted a large weight of discomfort and foreboding on the timid wolf’s soul. While the load was being lifted, the wolf spoke again. Cercelee, she said her name was, inciting a response from the flattened auricles. Yet, the name held no connotation, and thus connoted an emotion of marginal confusion. Nic Graine merely responded with a slight dip of her maw, a shy greeting, and she looked away bashfully, a timid smile crossing her lips. “Nice to meet you...” came the quiet reply, a soft whisper of a thought.
The comment that followed made the situation more awkward. Why can this not be a mêlée, echoed the thought. At least I would know how to handle such a situation. And the thought was followed by a nervous wave of the marked tail. “My mother gave me these markings,” came the reply, “and I suppose that my father gave me these eyes...” Of course, the eyes were the complete opposite of her father’s, which were an unnerving black, but she had decided that she was not like her father at all, and had striven to never be what he was, and that pre-determined choice had chosen the colour of her eyes. The eyes are the windows to the soul...
Her mind wandered as much as her body did, and the black female returned to the thought that had been caught in her mind. “I really didn’t mean to come here. I stumbled upon this place by chance...” There was a slight pause before the slightly accented voice continued. “I’ve never been to this place before. What is it called?” And then she distracted herself by taking a pointed sweep of the town square. “Is it of importance to the pack?” The white eyes had returned to the white female. There was a smile upon her maw that was light and warm; some of the awkwardness had fallen out of the subordinate female, as it always did with the passing of time.
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500+
Cwmfen blinked in the bright light. The white female had responded to her, and she stood shyly by. The expression was not unkind, and, though there seemed nothing unusual about this wolf, there was something about what was in the clarity of those blue eyes that struck her. The intensity of the cerulean gaze suggested a high rank, but who exactly was this white female? Though she was unsure, it was clear that the other was of a significantly higher rank than she herself was; the feel that she had had while with Grayson, who she had not seen for some time now, was quite different. The black female decided that it was similar to what she had felt while she was with Haku, but it had been long enough that she wasn’t sure to what extent these auras were alike. And, without such comparisons with which to make the white female relative, Cwmfen was at a loss for who and what this female was.
The woad-marked female shifted slightly, making humble her posture. The banded ears swiveled back, though most likely out of shyness than for pure submission. A lowered tail, though not tucked, and scarcely bent limbs made complete the modest posture.
A small sigh of relief was permitted to escape her jaws as the white one spoke. Her voice was pleasant to hear, and the given smile was welcomed. The words, though seemingly insignificant, lifted a large weight of discomfort and foreboding on the timid wolf’s soul. While the load was being lifted, the wolf spoke again. Cercelee, she said her name was, inciting a response from the flattened auricles. Yet, the name held no connotation, and thus connoted an emotion of marginal confusion. Nic Graine merely responded with a slight dip of her maw, a shy greeting, and she looked away bashfully, a timid smile crossing her lips. “Nice to meet you...” came the quiet reply, a soft whisper of a thought.
The comment that followed made the situation more awkward. Why can this not be a mêlée, echoed the thought. At least I would know how to handle such a situation. And the thought was followed by a nervous wave of the marked tail. “My mother gave me these markings,” came the reply, “and I suppose that my father gave me these eyes...” Of course, the eyes were the complete opposite of her father’s, which were an unnerving black, but she had decided that she was not like her father at all, and had striven to never be what he was, and that pre-determined choice had chosen the colour of her eyes. The eyes are the windows to the soul...
Her mind wandered as much as her body did, and the black female returned to the thought that had been caught in her mind. “I really didn’t mean to come here. I stumbled upon this place by chance...” There was a slight pause before the slightly accented voice continued. “I’ve never been to this place before. What is it called?” And then she distracted herself by taking a pointed sweep of the town square. “Is it of importance to the pack?” The white eyes had returned to the white female. There was a smile upon her maw that was light and warm; some of the awkwardness had fallen out of the subordinate female, as it always did with the passing of time.