03-26-2009, 12:55 PM
[html]
Okay, ^=^ And then I’ll request this to be archived~
500+
The woad warrior nodded slightly, imperceptibly. Yes, she could hold off that raging fire that threatened to break through. She had been trained to be in control of herself, and she had mastered such a thing. But what if such embers became a fire, and what if those flames burned another? The female looked up at the steel hued hybrid, the white eyes searching his face. She could see the change, the conflict, and so she gathered up her embers and wrapped them deeper within her. But it seemed that she had already burned him. A light smile tugged at her lips. “I would—could—do nothing. I do not bid the flames to burn; I only urge them. But whomever they shall burn—it is they who must decide.” The warrior, while she believed in something akin to Fate, believed that all creatures had a choice. She could not force anyone to do anything—even in death. Even in battle.
And then he rose, swiftly, but the warrior did not mistake the movement for anything other than what it was. She did not rise to follow him, remaining where she had lain, shifting only to allow herself to compensate for the loss of the male’s support. She was almost laying completely upon the decaying wood of the cabin, but her head was lifted, held up by the support of her upper torso. A paw was brought in against her chest when the male leaned down to whisper in her ear, and she head a darkness in his voice. The female turned her maw up to his ear, whispering her own reply with shadowy tones. “Such danger makes life more precious.” The female lived her life as if this life were the only one, as if there were no afterlives or reincarnations. As if each day might be her last. And for a warrior, such a thing was necessary. Yet, she was not impulsive or foolish. She was merely comfortable with these facts of life.
But even as she had lifted her maw, the male had left, turning to leave, almost rushed. The female was left alone in the darkness as she watched the doorway from which he had left. She did not move to follow him. The silence of the snowing world filled the woad bound ears. A light smile had flickered across her maw. He had resisted, and perhaps, she thought, in this society resistance was required. And she recognized that whatever love had caused him grief, that love had lost a loyalty. And perhaps, even if he had not resisted those flames, the female would not have succumbed to them herself. Already, the rush of the battle with the AniWayan had been fading, and her body no longer felt the urgency. At length, the female rose, her silent, graceful steps carrying her to the threshold. The white gaze looked up at the awaiting Raven, and then she lept into the snow. It was time for her to return to Dahlia. There was nothing more to be done that day outside the boarders of her home.
500+
The woad warrior nodded slightly, imperceptibly. Yes, she could hold off that raging fire that threatened to break through. She had been trained to be in control of herself, and she had mastered such a thing. But what if such embers became a fire, and what if those flames burned another? The female looked up at the steel hued hybrid, the white eyes searching his face. She could see the change, the conflict, and so she gathered up her embers and wrapped them deeper within her. But it seemed that she had already burned him. A light smile tugged at her lips. “I would—could—do nothing. I do not bid the flames to burn; I only urge them. But whomever they shall burn—it is they who must decide.” The warrior, while she believed in something akin to Fate, believed that all creatures had a choice. She could not force anyone to do anything—even in death. Even in battle.
And then he rose, swiftly, but the warrior did not mistake the movement for anything other than what it was. She did not rise to follow him, remaining where she had lain, shifting only to allow herself to compensate for the loss of the male’s support. She was almost laying completely upon the decaying wood of the cabin, but her head was lifted, held up by the support of her upper torso. A paw was brought in against her chest when the male leaned down to whisper in her ear, and she head a darkness in his voice. The female turned her maw up to his ear, whispering her own reply with shadowy tones. “Such danger makes life more precious.” The female lived her life as if this life were the only one, as if there were no afterlives or reincarnations. As if each day might be her last. And for a warrior, such a thing was necessary. Yet, she was not impulsive or foolish. She was merely comfortable with these facts of life.
But even as she had lifted her maw, the male had left, turning to leave, almost rushed. The female was left alone in the darkness as she watched the doorway from which he had left. She did not move to follow him. The silence of the snowing world filled the woad bound ears. A light smile had flickered across her maw. He had resisted, and perhaps, she thought, in this society resistance was required. And she recognized that whatever love had caused him grief, that love had lost a loyalty. And perhaps, even if he had not resisted those flames, the female would not have succumbed to them herself. Already, the rush of the battle with the AniWayan had been fading, and her body no longer felt the urgency. At length, the female rose, her silent, graceful steps carrying her to the threshold. The white gaze looked up at the awaiting Raven, and then she lept into the snow. It was time for her to return to Dahlia. There was nothing more to be done that day outside the boarders of her home.