11-19-2008, 01:34 AM
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500+
The one that appeared was not one that she expected, yet she had not expected any one in particular. The gait had matched none that she was familiar with, and she did not think that the other pack members would find reason to approach her. Despite her melancholy frame of mind, the young woman still preferred the solitude. Company was always welcome, but the seclusion of the mind never troubled her.
The woman that approached she recognized from the pack meeting, and her scent was well dispersed through the lands of Dahlia de Mai. Yet, she could not remember the name of this emerald-eyed female. It was strange the things that one would remember and the things that one would forget. She was discontent by her inability to recall the name, but she was sure that she’d get it later. As the female paused in her travels a good distance away, Cwmfen flattened her ears, recognizing the higher rank of the female before her. Cercelee had said that often, continual submission was not required, and so, after the other spoke, the woad-banded aurals relaxed. A light smile graced the black fae’s maw. The accent was familiar, though not quite the same as her own. The question itself caught the black fae off guard, and she was silent for several moments as she tried to comprehend its context. Then, remembering their shared accent, the female was able to respond.
"I hail from a place between Iceni and Catuvelauni territory—South of Caledonia...." The mellow, alto voice faded into the crisp air as the mind slipped into thought. While the northern section of the isle was considered Caledonia, the shared cultures of the packs allowed for them to be considered Caledonians as well. She was never certain from which pack her mother had been born from, but she believed it had been the Ordovices. It had been when Graine was scouting and hunting on her own that she encountered the crow-wolf, who seduced her—drew her in, then raped her... It was nearly seven moons ago when she herself had been victim of his whims. The female suppressed a shudder of fear and attempted to push back the memories that the past would harbor ever more. A meek smile crossed her maw.
"And you?" She was perhaps just as curious as the lighter female. It was not every day that such a lilt was heard.... Yet she had heard a similar sound elsewhere. Another wolf in a time before... DaVinci, perhaps? The passage of time bid her forget, but she did believe that the hybrid had held a strange lilt as well. She considered that for a moment. Cwmfen remembered that the hybrid had mentioned that he had relations within the pack, but she couldn’t remember a stated name—perhaps there had been none.
"I’m Cwmfen." She offered her name with a quiet, suave tone. The white orbs peered curiously at the other female, attempting to piece together the pieces that seemed to connect but did not yet fit together. The curiosity moved her to request from the other woman. "Forgive me, but I cannot seem to recall your name...?" The Caledonian lilt was soft in her alto tones, yet there was a hint of another culture on that tongue.
500+
The one that appeared was not one that she expected, yet she had not expected any one in particular. The gait had matched none that she was familiar with, and she did not think that the other pack members would find reason to approach her. Despite her melancholy frame of mind, the young woman still preferred the solitude. Company was always welcome, but the seclusion of the mind never troubled her.
The woman that approached she recognized from the pack meeting, and her scent was well dispersed through the lands of Dahlia de Mai. Yet, she could not remember the name of this emerald-eyed female. It was strange the things that one would remember and the things that one would forget. She was discontent by her inability to recall the name, but she was sure that she’d get it later. As the female paused in her travels a good distance away, Cwmfen flattened her ears, recognizing the higher rank of the female before her. Cercelee had said that often, continual submission was not required, and so, after the other spoke, the woad-banded aurals relaxed. A light smile graced the black fae’s maw. The accent was familiar, though not quite the same as her own. The question itself caught the black fae off guard, and she was silent for several moments as she tried to comprehend its context. Then, remembering their shared accent, the female was able to respond.
"I hail from a place between Iceni and Catuvelauni territory—South of Caledonia...." The mellow, alto voice faded into the crisp air as the mind slipped into thought. While the northern section of the isle was considered Caledonia, the shared cultures of the packs allowed for them to be considered Caledonians as well. She was never certain from which pack her mother had been born from, but she believed it had been the Ordovices. It had been when Graine was scouting and hunting on her own that she encountered the crow-wolf, who seduced her—drew her in, then raped her... It was nearly seven moons ago when she herself had been victim of his whims. The female suppressed a shudder of fear and attempted to push back the memories that the past would harbor ever more. A meek smile crossed her maw.
"And you?" She was perhaps just as curious as the lighter female. It was not every day that such a lilt was heard.... Yet she had heard a similar sound elsewhere. Another wolf in a time before... DaVinci, perhaps? The passage of time bid her forget, but she did believe that the hybrid had held a strange lilt as well. She considered that for a moment. Cwmfen remembered that the hybrid had mentioned that he had relations within the pack, but she couldn’t remember a stated name—perhaps there had been none.
"I’m Cwmfen." She offered her name with a quiet, suave tone. The white orbs peered curiously at the other female, attempting to piece together the pieces that seemed to connect but did not yet fit together. The curiosity moved her to request from the other woman. "Forgive me, but I cannot seem to recall your name...?" The Caledonian lilt was soft in her alto tones, yet there was a hint of another culture on that tongue.