03-14-2009, 01:28 AM
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500+
It seemed almost as if the male were going to speak, to yell perhaps, once more. But he fell silent, biting back whatever it was he was going to say. And there was silence until he broke it, speaking as those yellow eyes sought the depths of her white orbs. Evil? The warrior could have laughed aloud, but she did not, for she knew enough of pride and respect to remain silent. She knew quite well that the wolf before here was not an evil creature. Misunderstood, cocky, pragmatic even, but that was not evil. She had glimpsed a part of evil, and his darkness was not so dense as to be so irreversibly wicked. The other words held more weight than the latter. But the alto melody did not fill the silence immediately, as she waited with the wind for a few more moments. “If I were to desire you,” the woad warrior said at last, “I would desire you for who you are. Nothing less.” The Caledonian-Korean did not manipulate lust into love and would force no soul into a preconceived mold.
A light smile flickered across her maw, and there was a warmth in it. “Alright,” the woad marked woman agreed. “I promise.” His concern for her, made so apparent, almost surprised her. And she was amazed once more with the trust that could bind the pack to one another. “I realize how vulnerable I must seem,” the warrior admitted modestly. “And I admire your self control.” The woman was relieved that she would not have to deal with the physical matter of rejecting the desires of a male. And she was well aware that such desires were blinding, suffocating. She was well aware to where such desires could lead, and how dangerous one who allowed themselves to be consumed by that desire could be. And so she was impressed that the male had set aside that which he had desired and had not taken advantage of her position. Perhaps, if she were fully revitalized, she would have been able to handle such crude games. But not this night.
Dutch’s blunt answer invoked a smile upon the warrior’s maw, but it was almost sad. She was silent, choosing not to answer save for with that smile. Intelligent, kind, and beautiful. Her intelligence had failed her at the lake those long days ago. Kindness was not of one who could kill without regret. And beauty.... She had seen many more exquisite flowers. Perhaps there was truth to what the male claimed she was, but she knew her own quality and saw the flaws in her character. Nothing was perfect. Nothing was pure. Nothing was eternal. Not even love. And these were not the bitter thoughts of a lonely wolf, but the realistic thoughts of one wolf who had chosen her solitude. “I cannot be bound by the chains of love,” the female replied, and she was almost sorry that she had to say it. But she had to be direct as well and spare him from wasted time.
It seemed almost as if the male were going to speak, to yell perhaps, once more. But he fell silent, biting back whatever it was he was going to say. And there was silence until he broke it, speaking as those yellow eyes sought the depths of her white orbs. Evil? The warrior could have laughed aloud, but she did not, for she knew enough of pride and respect to remain silent. She knew quite well that the wolf before here was not an evil creature. Misunderstood, cocky, pragmatic even, but that was not evil. She had glimpsed a part of evil, and his darkness was not so dense as to be so irreversibly wicked. The other words held more weight than the latter. But the alto melody did not fill the silence immediately, as she waited with the wind for a few more moments. “If I were to desire you,” the woad warrior said at last, “I would desire you for who you are. Nothing less.” The Caledonian-Korean did not manipulate lust into love and would force no soul into a preconceived mold.
A light smile flickered across her maw, and there was a warmth in it. “Alright,” the woad marked woman agreed. “I promise.” His concern for her, made so apparent, almost surprised her. And she was amazed once more with the trust that could bind the pack to one another. “I realize how vulnerable I must seem,” the warrior admitted modestly. “And I admire your self control.” The woman was relieved that she would not have to deal with the physical matter of rejecting the desires of a male. And she was well aware that such desires were blinding, suffocating. She was well aware to where such desires could lead, and how dangerous one who allowed themselves to be consumed by that desire could be. And so she was impressed that the male had set aside that which he had desired and had not taken advantage of her position. Perhaps, if she were fully revitalized, she would have been able to handle such crude games. But not this night.
Dutch’s blunt answer invoked a smile upon the warrior’s maw, but it was almost sad. She was silent, choosing not to answer save for with that smile. Intelligent, kind, and beautiful. Her intelligence had failed her at the lake those long days ago. Kindness was not of one who could kill without regret. And beauty.... She had seen many more exquisite flowers. Perhaps there was truth to what the male claimed she was, but she knew her own quality and saw the flaws in her character. Nothing was perfect. Nothing was pure. Nothing was eternal. Not even love. And these were not the bitter thoughts of a lonely wolf, but the realistic thoughts of one wolf who had chosen her solitude. “I cannot be bound by the chains of love,” the female replied, and she was almost sorry that she had to say it. But she had to be direct as well and spare him from wasted time.