02-15-2009, 02:02 PM
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Cwmfen’s head tilted inquiringly at his comment. She wondered why such a topic was embarrassing, but she supposed that it could have been some cultural thing that she had missed. But because he stated that it was so, she thought that it was embarrassing for him to speak of it at that moment, and so she did not pursue that matter further. She had always thought that if another wished to tell her, they would, and so she was content with waiting. Perhaps she would hear of how such things worked from another—surely the mahogany male could not be the only one acquainted with such knowledge.
"I suppose they do," she agreed quietly. The woad warrior was a solitary creature, and she spoke of many things to the wind or the trees, or to the shadows in the night. Perhaps, however, such things were secrets. She wondered now what impact speaking these things aloud would have, and she wondered of the implications of such a statement. When he called to her, she turned on her hind legs and followed him into the darkness of the caves. She hoped that he knew where he was going, for soon there would be no guiding light. Of course, she did not doubt that he did know. And if they did happen to get lost, the scent of clean air would lead them back. The female, however, was more interested in the darkness.
In the dark, it was difficult to say how near to Sankor she was. The scraping of their claws against the stone echoed ambiguously against the walls. It was only when he spoke that she was able to find the source, and she pressed herself a bit closer so as to not lose him. She thought of how to answer such a question as she lowered her maw absently to scent the stone. "It depends of what the worth is being measured for.... But I suppose, in general, I judge a wolf by its loyalty, self control, and...the overall quality of the soul." Every wolf was different, and she considered every wolf with a new thought. It was a difficult thing that he asked, for she could not explain it through words. Words were a quagmire and often the female felt its shortcomings. "It’s difficult to say." Then the black fae laughed a little, and her golden laughter echoed in the dark. The air was so stale in here; it was nothing like she’d experienced before.
300+
Cwmfen’s head tilted inquiringly at his comment. She wondered why such a topic was embarrassing, but she supposed that it could have been some cultural thing that she had missed. But because he stated that it was so, she thought that it was embarrassing for him to speak of it at that moment, and so she did not pursue that matter further. She had always thought that if another wished to tell her, they would, and so she was content with waiting. Perhaps she would hear of how such things worked from another—surely the mahogany male could not be the only one acquainted with such knowledge.
"I suppose they do," she agreed quietly. The woad warrior was a solitary creature, and she spoke of many things to the wind or the trees, or to the shadows in the night. Perhaps, however, such things were secrets. She wondered now what impact speaking these things aloud would have, and she wondered of the implications of such a statement. When he called to her, she turned on her hind legs and followed him into the darkness of the caves. She hoped that he knew where he was going, for soon there would be no guiding light. Of course, she did not doubt that he did know. And if they did happen to get lost, the scent of clean air would lead them back. The female, however, was more interested in the darkness.
In the dark, it was difficult to say how near to Sankor she was. The scraping of their claws against the stone echoed ambiguously against the walls. It was only when he spoke that she was able to find the source, and she pressed herself a bit closer so as to not lose him. She thought of how to answer such a question as she lowered her maw absently to scent the stone. "It depends of what the worth is being measured for.... But I suppose, in general, I judge a wolf by its loyalty, self control, and...the overall quality of the soul." Every wolf was different, and she considered every wolf with a new thought. It was a difficult thing that he asked, for she could not explain it through words. Words were a quagmire and often the female felt its shortcomings. "It’s difficult to say." Then the black fae laughed a little, and her golden laughter echoed in the dark. The air was so stale in here; it was nothing like she’d experienced before.