10-11-2008, 06:39 PM
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There had been no traumatic events since she had received her beating from the three Inferni members, unless you counted her encounter with Alexey. Since then she had only come across others who seemed genuinely good hearted, shifters and coyotes alike. Despite the onslaught of friendly characters, all who had calmed the poor wolf to some degree, Adelaida was not quite her old self. As far as the masked female was concerned, she never would be quite the same again. Always there would be the virus coursing through her veins, dirtying her blood. Even if after speaking with Boomer and Ryan she could accept shifters for what they were (at least outwardly), she could not accept herself as one. She hadn’t been born one, she was never meant to be one, and yet Adelaida Koios was a luperci.
The urges in her body were becoming more constant, more palpable like a constant ache. Her body wanted to transform, her mind denied it. Although she had suspected that she had contracted the virus when the coyotes had transferred so much of their saliva and blood into her wounds, it had not been confirmed until she felt the urges to shift. Instinctively she knew what those shifters meant, knew what her body demanded of her, but still she stayed four legged, as she was born. It was in the four legged form she traveled, Pickles the chinchilla riding between her shoulder clinging to her pelt. Although she occasionally spoke to the rodent, her sister’s pet which still had not returned to her (much to Adelaida’s delight) she was met only with squeaks, which Ade didn’t much know what they meant.
Instead of trying to discern the squeaks Pickles spoke to her, Adelaida listened mindlessly to the crunch of the fallen leaves underfoot. It was a soft sound, almost not a sound at all. The leaves were still freshly fallen, many of their companions still on their branches in the trees, and not many had dried out just yet. The sound was so soft that when she came nearer to the shore the crunching of the leaves was drown out with the sound of waves long before she ever reached the sand. And once she did reach the sand, and the female sitting in the sand, Ade spoke over the waves, her voice soft, timid, defeated, but at least pleasant. Peaceful, hein?
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There had been no traumatic events since she had received her beating from the three Inferni members, unless you counted her encounter with Alexey. Since then she had only come across others who seemed genuinely good hearted, shifters and coyotes alike. Despite the onslaught of friendly characters, all who had calmed the poor wolf to some degree, Adelaida was not quite her old self. As far as the masked female was concerned, she never would be quite the same again. Always there would be the virus coursing through her veins, dirtying her blood. Even if after speaking with Boomer and Ryan she could accept shifters for what they were (at least outwardly), she could not accept herself as one. She hadn’t been born one, she was never meant to be one, and yet Adelaida Koios was a luperci.
The urges in her body were becoming more constant, more palpable like a constant ache. Her body wanted to transform, her mind denied it. Although she had suspected that she had contracted the virus when the coyotes had transferred so much of their saliva and blood into her wounds, it had not been confirmed until she felt the urges to shift. Instinctively she knew what those shifters meant, knew what her body demanded of her, but still she stayed four legged, as she was born. It was in the four legged form she traveled, Pickles the chinchilla riding between her shoulder clinging to her pelt. Although she occasionally spoke to the rodent, her sister’s pet which still had not returned to her (much to Adelaida’s delight) she was met only with squeaks, which Ade didn’t much know what they meant.
Instead of trying to discern the squeaks Pickles spoke to her, Adelaida listened mindlessly to the crunch of the fallen leaves underfoot. It was a soft sound, almost not a sound at all. The leaves were still freshly fallen, many of their companions still on their branches in the trees, and not many had dried out just yet. The sound was so soft that when she came nearer to the shore the crunching of the leaves was drown out with the sound of waves long before she ever reached the sand. And once she did reach the sand, and the female sitting in the sand, Ade spoke over the waves, her voice soft, timid, defeated, but at least pleasant. Peaceful, hein?