03-01-2009, 08:23 PM
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500+
"Why do you repeat yourself?" The female asked. And yet, that question was pointless, for she did not seek an answer. But still she wondered. She had not questioned his descriptors of himself, and surely she could see plainly the arrogance he so openly held. And perhaps that was why he felt the need to repeat himself. Perhaps he was trying to convince himself that he was something else. He claimed arrogance, he acted arrogant, but that was all superficial, all on the surface. What was beneath that haughty exterior, the woman wondered. Was it something darker, or something lighter, softer. Or perhaps he was not a complicated being and she was troubling herself with trifles. Silently, the female moved on to another thought and considered only what was openly shown to her. For now, for one joining, that would be enough.
The warrior gave a quiet growl as her hackles itched to rise. "Watch it, Biler’a," the soft alto warned. "I do not play games." And she was sure that that was what the male was trying to do: play a game. The female never tired herself with petty deceptions, and she wondered why anyone else would want to waste their time. Her father played such games, but his games were broader with a specific end. In all else, her father was direct. Perhaps too direct. But then, he was a solitary creature, and that man with the empty soul never wasted his time in joining packs. But she doubted that this Dutch Biler’a was a creature so dark as Corvus Vendetta. Nevertheless, the female tired quickly of such things. And for a loner seeking acceptance, such games were not beneficial.
Cwmfen straightened herself. "He is," she responded simply, quietly, and without anger or irritation. As he continued with his history, or with what he wished to share, at least, she was silent. She was unmoved by his tale. Perhaps it was because she saw him to be at fault for his own sufferings. "If your brother hates you, why do you seek refuge from a hateful world in a place that harbors him?" the female inquired realistically. "Your reason for joining Dahlia de Mai confuses me. You are not showing certainty, and that wavers my judgement." Cwmfen’s alto melody carried a sharp edge in it, and it was clear that she was not amused by this character. She paused before moving on to another thought.
"You seem to have a problem with authority, Biler’a. I warn you that Dahlia does not tolerate insubordination. Are you ready to accept the authority, Bilera?" She paused again. "If you are going to cause problems because your brother, Ril’o, is a member, perhaps you will want to re-think which pack you wish to join." It was not necessarily that the female was chasing him away. But she did not want trouble in Dahlia de Mai. His joining wouldn’t be the first time a family came together in Dahlia, for, strangely, that was happening frequently these days in Dahlia.
500+
"Why do you repeat yourself?" The female asked. And yet, that question was pointless, for she did not seek an answer. But still she wondered. She had not questioned his descriptors of himself, and surely she could see plainly the arrogance he so openly held. And perhaps that was why he felt the need to repeat himself. Perhaps he was trying to convince himself that he was something else. He claimed arrogance, he acted arrogant, but that was all superficial, all on the surface. What was beneath that haughty exterior, the woman wondered. Was it something darker, or something lighter, softer. Or perhaps he was not a complicated being and she was troubling herself with trifles. Silently, the female moved on to another thought and considered only what was openly shown to her. For now, for one joining, that would be enough.
The warrior gave a quiet growl as her hackles itched to rise. "Watch it, Biler’a," the soft alto warned. "I do not play games." And she was sure that that was what the male was trying to do: play a game. The female never tired herself with petty deceptions, and she wondered why anyone else would want to waste their time. Her father played such games, but his games were broader with a specific end. In all else, her father was direct. Perhaps too direct. But then, he was a solitary creature, and that man with the empty soul never wasted his time in joining packs. But she doubted that this Dutch Biler’a was a creature so dark as Corvus Vendetta. Nevertheless, the female tired quickly of such things. And for a loner seeking acceptance, such games were not beneficial.
Cwmfen straightened herself. "He is," she responded simply, quietly, and without anger or irritation. As he continued with his history, or with what he wished to share, at least, she was silent. She was unmoved by his tale. Perhaps it was because she saw him to be at fault for his own sufferings. "If your brother hates you, why do you seek refuge from a hateful world in a place that harbors him?" the female inquired realistically. "Your reason for joining Dahlia de Mai confuses me. You are not showing certainty, and that wavers my judgement." Cwmfen’s alto melody carried a sharp edge in it, and it was clear that she was not amused by this character. She paused before moving on to another thought.
"You seem to have a problem with authority, Biler’a. I warn you that Dahlia does not tolerate insubordination. Are you ready to accept the authority, Bilera?" She paused again. "If you are going to cause problems because your brother, Ril’o, is a member, perhaps you will want to re-think which pack you wish to join." It was not necessarily that the female was chasing him away. But she did not want trouble in Dahlia de Mai. His joining wouldn’t be the first time a family came together in Dahlia, for, strangely, that was happening frequently these days in Dahlia.