03-05-2009, 06:57 PM
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500+
She saw a strangeness in his eyes, a distrust, perhaps. But the female did not hold any hostility against him. She encouraged such a thing, for it was never safe to trust someone that one did not know. The white eyes observed the younger creature before her as he made to recoil from her reaction, but she did not think that it was out of fear. And that innate creature, that purely lupine creature, was eased by that fact, for it was the instinct of all creatures to pursue those that smelled of fear. It was an instinct of survival, as all instincts were. But there was no immediate fear from this young coy, and she did not expect it. The woad marked warrior was not a fear instilling creature after all, though she may command caution. And it was not her way to bring it out of people. The warrior was a quiet creature, tranquil with that serenity of enlightened warriors. And yet the warrior could be a feral creature, vicious with that ferocity of a wild killer. But the woman knew the balance in herself and how to keep it. And so, despite the infamous tales of Inferni’s deeds, she sought the goodness in the creature before her.
The female’s woad bound ears pricked forward at the sound of his voice, and it was a quiet, good sound. “And what did he say of my people?” the alto melody inquired. Her alto voice was a quiet melody and held a regal civility. A light smile danced upon her lips as the white orbs watched the male. The stiffness in her body from that battle with the wolf Brennt remained within her. The wounds upon her chest were tight as she breathed, but the female was at ease, for she had not lost. But, at once, she was not sure if she had won. But the warrior kept the lesson of the ignorance of males with her still. Yet, the black fae was untroubled, for she did not think that the adolescent would trouble himself with such things yet, especially with her. Aside from the dyed woad, the female was quite unremarkable.
“The first one?” A light mirth was held in her voice, and perhaps a touch of scorn. The male spoke as if she were different from him. And perhaps, on the surface, they were quite different indeed. But within, in the heart and soul, they were the same. As all creatures were. As all entities were. “And what of it?” the black fae inquired once more, but a true sincerity for that question was in the alto tones. “Are you disappointed?” The black female rose then, and the soreness of her body was not immediately apparent as she slowly turned about, as if showcasing to the coyote what manner of creature she was. But he could not know from merely looking, and perhaps that was her point. As she came full circle, her movements ceased as the white orbs watched him carefully. And she was silent, but there were a great many things that the black female could have said. And perhaps she was waiting to see what this male had to say.
She saw a strangeness in his eyes, a distrust, perhaps. But the female did not hold any hostility against him. She encouraged such a thing, for it was never safe to trust someone that one did not know. The white eyes observed the younger creature before her as he made to recoil from her reaction, but she did not think that it was out of fear. And that innate creature, that purely lupine creature, was eased by that fact, for it was the instinct of all creatures to pursue those that smelled of fear. It was an instinct of survival, as all instincts were. But there was no immediate fear from this young coy, and she did not expect it. The woad marked warrior was not a fear instilling creature after all, though she may command caution. And it was not her way to bring it out of people. The warrior was a quiet creature, tranquil with that serenity of enlightened warriors. And yet the warrior could be a feral creature, vicious with that ferocity of a wild killer. But the woman knew the balance in herself and how to keep it. And so, despite the infamous tales of Inferni’s deeds, she sought the goodness in the creature before her.
The female’s woad bound ears pricked forward at the sound of his voice, and it was a quiet, good sound. “And what did he say of my people?” the alto melody inquired. Her alto voice was a quiet melody and held a regal civility. A light smile danced upon her lips as the white orbs watched the male. The stiffness in her body from that battle with the wolf Brennt remained within her. The wounds upon her chest were tight as she breathed, but the female was at ease, for she had not lost. But, at once, she was not sure if she had won. But the warrior kept the lesson of the ignorance of males with her still. Yet, the black fae was untroubled, for she did not think that the adolescent would trouble himself with such things yet, especially with her. Aside from the dyed woad, the female was quite unremarkable.
“The first one?” A light mirth was held in her voice, and perhaps a touch of scorn. The male spoke as if she were different from him. And perhaps, on the surface, they were quite different indeed. But within, in the heart and soul, they were the same. As all creatures were. As all entities were. “And what of it?” the black fae inquired once more, but a true sincerity for that question was in the alto tones. “Are you disappointed?” The black female rose then, and the soreness of her body was not immediately apparent as she slowly turned about, as if showcasing to the coyote what manner of creature she was. But he could not know from merely looking, and perhaps that was her point. As she came full circle, her movements ceased as the white orbs watched him carefully. And she was silent, but there were a great many things that the black female could have said. And perhaps she was waiting to see what this male had to say.