11-28-2008, 06:36 PM
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Sorry for the wait!
500+
Cwmfen’s white orbs observed the stone-hued female, and, having noticed that the other’s gaze trailed over her own entirety, the black fae became wary. She wondered what it was that the other was observing—or, more likely, for what purpose was she being studied? The woad-marked fae was not often so quick to mistrust, but, being in strange territory, she was not necessarily ready to embrace all creatures that she encountered, regardless of benign first impressions. She had learned that no one could be trusted, and any creature could at any moment decide that she proved to be a threat or simply a target for their own relief. However, she tried to push such thoughts of warning back into the recesses of her mind, for often such thoughts were hindering in the forming of relationships. And, looking the grey female over briefly, she did not think that this one would prove to be much of a problem.
The woad-banded aurals pricked forward at the sound of her own name. Despite her belligerent mood, the Dahlian smiled. "Cwmfen," the female corrected softly, placing emphasize upon the m; she displayed no rude or inconsiderate demeanor. Then she nodded in greeting, a brief and hardly noticeable gesture. "Pleasure to meet you, Geneva Stockholm." The girl seemed quite amiable, and so the black female gave her the benefit of the doubt. She was quick to answer the questions that were given, and so the black fae learned then that it was the pack Crimson Dreams that resided over these lands. She tried to remember the name this time, and tucked its scent into the back of her mind for later reference.
The Caledonian-Korean offered another brief laugh, a sound like the silver dew drops after a rainstorm. It seemed that this female did not enjoy such weather. To the contrary, Cwfmen found it most appealing and pleasant to behold by all senses. The temperature, colour, sounds, and scents pleased her greatly, and she found solace in its presence. The song of the world sang beautiful tones during such weather, and such tones harmonized beautifully with the song of her soul. It was more of a spiritual thing, she supposed, as she felt closer to the gods at such times. But such simplicity was as she appreciated.
"I hope I’m not keeping you from anything." As Geneva lowered herself and invited her to do the same, she followed suit. While her own paws were accustom to such traveling, she did not want to appear haughty or rude by remaining above the other, especially while not on her own territory. Lowering upon her marked haunches, the black plume wrapped itself about her feet. Cwmfen nodded in response to the other’s observations. "You are, indeed, correct. While I have not fought alongside others, I have spent my earlier years battling others." The melodic voice was quiet, almost sad. The white orbs seemed to reminisce over a past memory. "My mother gave them to me before she returned...." Soon, when she reached her sexual maturity (it seemed as if she were a late bloomer), she would need to venture out once more into the forest, to become closer with the gods and ascertain her purpose as a warrior. But that would not be until the winter, she hypothesized, and so she still had time. At that time, it would also be appropriate for her to accept a mate, but she did not believe that such a thing would be achieved.
She smiled at the other, resurfacing from her thoughts. "Are you from around here? Or do you hail from another palce?" Frankly, Cwmfen was curious as to the other’s origins; she was unsure yet as to how to discern certain cultures from others. Perhaps such things did not even matter, but she believed that to know such things gave insight into the actions and choices that others made.
Sorry for the wait!
500+
Cwmfen’s white orbs observed the stone-hued female, and, having noticed that the other’s gaze trailed over her own entirety, the black fae became wary. She wondered what it was that the other was observing—or, more likely, for what purpose was she being studied? The woad-marked fae was not often so quick to mistrust, but, being in strange territory, she was not necessarily ready to embrace all creatures that she encountered, regardless of benign first impressions. She had learned that no one could be trusted, and any creature could at any moment decide that she proved to be a threat or simply a target for their own relief. However, she tried to push such thoughts of warning back into the recesses of her mind, for often such thoughts were hindering in the forming of relationships. And, looking the grey female over briefly, she did not think that this one would prove to be much of a problem.
The woad-banded aurals pricked forward at the sound of her own name. Despite her belligerent mood, the Dahlian smiled. "Cwmfen," the female corrected softly, placing emphasize upon the m; she displayed no rude or inconsiderate demeanor. Then she nodded in greeting, a brief and hardly noticeable gesture. "Pleasure to meet you, Geneva Stockholm." The girl seemed quite amiable, and so the black female gave her the benefit of the doubt. She was quick to answer the questions that were given, and so the black fae learned then that it was the pack Crimson Dreams that resided over these lands. She tried to remember the name this time, and tucked its scent into the back of her mind for later reference.
The Caledonian-Korean offered another brief laugh, a sound like the silver dew drops after a rainstorm. It seemed that this female did not enjoy such weather. To the contrary, Cwfmen found it most appealing and pleasant to behold by all senses. The temperature, colour, sounds, and scents pleased her greatly, and she found solace in its presence. The song of the world sang beautiful tones during such weather, and such tones harmonized beautifully with the song of her soul. It was more of a spiritual thing, she supposed, as she felt closer to the gods at such times. But such simplicity was as she appreciated.
"I hope I’m not keeping you from anything." As Geneva lowered herself and invited her to do the same, she followed suit. While her own paws were accustom to such traveling, she did not want to appear haughty or rude by remaining above the other, especially while not on her own territory. Lowering upon her marked haunches, the black plume wrapped itself about her feet. Cwmfen nodded in response to the other’s observations. "You are, indeed, correct. While I have not fought alongside others, I have spent my earlier years battling others." The melodic voice was quiet, almost sad. The white orbs seemed to reminisce over a past memory. "My mother gave them to me before she returned...." Soon, when she reached her sexual maturity (it seemed as if she were a late bloomer), she would need to venture out once more into the forest, to become closer with the gods and ascertain her purpose as a warrior. But that would not be until the winter, she hypothesized, and so she still had time. At that time, it would also be appropriate for her to accept a mate, but she did not believe that such a thing would be achieved.
She smiled at the other, resurfacing from her thoughts. "Are you from around here? Or do you hail from another palce?" Frankly, Cwmfen was curious as to the other’s origins; she was unsure yet as to how to discern certain cultures from others. Perhaps such things did not even matter, but she believed that to know such things gave insight into the actions and choices that others made.