11-20-2008, 07:41 PM
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Yay~
500+
After the pack meeting, Cwmfen had decided that she would take up the co-rank of hunter. She was now of a rank to accept a secondary rank, and, to help this new pack that she joined, the black fae would do what she could. Hunting had appealed to her when she had first met Cercelee in the town square those times ago, when the white Rosea had shared her knowledge of the pack with a curious bluet. She had always considered the hunt to be a type of combat, and her life, having been composed of combating other wolves for food and a place to den during whether when she had travelled as a lone wolf, would easily accommodate such a task. What had intrigued the young female most about the matter was of pack hunting—or even partner hunting. Even when she was a pup, she had never been out on a hunt—her father had forbidden it. What she had learned of hunting had been derived out of her desperate need to survive—especially after she fled from death....
Perhaps she was over romanticizing, but she felt that should she be hunt with even one other, the relationship between them would grow in a away that only combat could allow. The sudden urge to find Slay, whom, she was told by Cercelee, was the leading rank of the hunters, that she had felt after she had gained knowledge of such things was renewed. Now that the meeting was over, and now that the matter at the boarders with the wolf Sankor had been addressed, the newly appointed Circèe set out to find this wolf. Of course, the territory and terrain of Dahlia de Mai was vast and varying; the woad-marked female had no idea of where to begin to look, and because she had only briefly met him at the meeting, she did not know of his habits, of his likes and dislikes—his preferences. But that did not discourage the she-wolf.
Cwmfen nic Graine had set out early during that day, having risen before the sun himself. But even with the sun having risen, the world remained in shadowed grey with a crisp, biting air settled upon the land. The woad-marked female enjoyed such weather, and her mood had been light and her step quick. A light mist drizzled incessantly throughout the day, but the gelid moisture had not yet penetrated through the thickening black coat.
The Circèe had covered much ground already, though it was only just after noon. She had begun at the town square, returning to scent out anew the scent of the one being sought (the female had discovered his scent upon the land long before, yet she wished to re-sift through the air particles for accuracy). From there, she had made wide circles, trying to discern which direction to take through the freshest of his scents, but most were fairly old, and she ended up taking a wild guess. Along the way, two mice provided a barely sustainable snack, but she felt that she couldn’t stop now, especially when the scent grew stronger. Yet, it had already been several hours, and she could not discern the next rout to take, and she feared that if she chose the wrong one, time would be wasted, and there was an internal clock bidding her in urgency. Finally, the female pulled up, pausing to gaze about and listening to the soft song of the birds and the world through her soul. She felt that she was near to her goal...
The black, woad-bound maw lifted to release a brief howl of searching, a low, dark toned howl of silver song. As the alto voice relinquished the call, the black auds pricked forward, listening for a reply. She wondered then if she should shift, but thought against it for now. Her marked forepaw lifted in ancticipation.
Yay~
500+
After the pack meeting, Cwmfen had decided that she would take up the co-rank of hunter. She was now of a rank to accept a secondary rank, and, to help this new pack that she joined, the black fae would do what she could. Hunting had appealed to her when she had first met Cercelee in the town square those times ago, when the white Rosea had shared her knowledge of the pack with a curious bluet. She had always considered the hunt to be a type of combat, and her life, having been composed of combating other wolves for food and a place to den during whether when she had travelled as a lone wolf, would easily accommodate such a task. What had intrigued the young female most about the matter was of pack hunting—or even partner hunting. Even when she was a pup, she had never been out on a hunt—her father had forbidden it. What she had learned of hunting had been derived out of her desperate need to survive—especially after she fled from death....
Perhaps she was over romanticizing, but she felt that should she be hunt with even one other, the relationship between them would grow in a away that only combat could allow. The sudden urge to find Slay, whom, she was told by Cercelee, was the leading rank of the hunters, that she had felt after she had gained knowledge of such things was renewed. Now that the meeting was over, and now that the matter at the boarders with the wolf Sankor had been addressed, the newly appointed Circèe set out to find this wolf. Of course, the territory and terrain of Dahlia de Mai was vast and varying; the woad-marked female had no idea of where to begin to look, and because she had only briefly met him at the meeting, she did not know of his habits, of his likes and dislikes—his preferences. But that did not discourage the she-wolf.
Cwmfen nic Graine had set out early during that day, having risen before the sun himself. But even with the sun having risen, the world remained in shadowed grey with a crisp, biting air settled upon the land. The woad-marked female enjoyed such weather, and her mood had been light and her step quick. A light mist drizzled incessantly throughout the day, but the gelid moisture had not yet penetrated through the thickening black coat.
The Circèe had covered much ground already, though it was only just after noon. She had begun at the town square, returning to scent out anew the scent of the one being sought (the female had discovered his scent upon the land long before, yet she wished to re-sift through the air particles for accuracy). From there, she had made wide circles, trying to discern which direction to take through the freshest of his scents, but most were fairly old, and she ended up taking a wild guess. Along the way, two mice provided a barely sustainable snack, but she felt that she couldn’t stop now, especially when the scent grew stronger. Yet, it had already been several hours, and she could not discern the next rout to take, and she feared that if she chose the wrong one, time would be wasted, and there was an internal clock bidding her in urgency. Finally, the female pulled up, pausing to gaze about and listening to the soft song of the birds and the world through her soul. She felt that she was near to her goal...
The black, woad-bound maw lifted to release a brief howl of searching, a low, dark toned howl of silver song. As the alto voice relinquished the call, the black auds pricked forward, listening for a reply. She wondered then if she should shift, but thought against it for now. Her marked forepaw lifted in ancticipation.