03-26-2009, 11:49 PM
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Shall we end this one in a few posts?
500+
The woad bound ears swiveled at the sound of that sigh. It was a particular sound that she had never heard before, at least not quiet like this one. It was heavy and deep, but not only in the sound. That sigh seemed to resonate from his depth. The white orbs lifted to look at the male as if wondering at that sound. Perhaps she could not understand why he felt so deeply dissatisfied. And if he were so dissatisfied, she did not understand why he lingered. He seemed to be conflicted, and such conflict was waging a war within him. But it was something that she could not quite understand, for she could not read his mind to fully understand how it was that he was feeling. But this conflict reminded her of DaVinci, though she felt that it was of a different nature. She was silent, unwilling to break the silence. The black fae did not want to interrupt the male’s thoughts, for she knew that such a thing could prove to be dangerous—not for her, but for him. And so she was silent, calming herself and the pain that was constantly threatening to break through in an open cry.
When Dutch finally broke the silence, his yellow eyes were wild, frantic, but strangely meek. His voice, however, was a hoarse whisper. The female was internally confused, for a male had never displayed to her in this way before. On the surface, however, the warrior remained calm, yet it was not a cold impassivity, but a gentle one. “Such emotions cannot be controlled,” the alto melody spoke quietly and slowly, and the white orbs regarded the male carefully, as if she were deciding where next to tread. The silence was filled by the night before she permitted herself to continue. “I’m glad that you do not force such a thing upon me.... Forgive me, Biler’a,” the alto melody continued, and she paused momentarily. “I cannot reciprocate what it is you may be feeling—not even if you were to kill.” The white orbs met his yellow eyes with a gentleness belying the belligerence of which she was capable.
“I cannot satisfy your needs, physical or mental. But you will find another who will.” The female had not been lying when she had told him that she could not be bound by love. And love was a binding thing, something of which she could not be a part. And she would bear no male’s children, for she, selfishly perhaps, would not sacrifice her passion for younger and newer life. While the female was capable of the protection of pups and recognized their importance to the progression of life, she herself could not tolerate their presence for long. And she knew that love did not require the bearing of young, but she was not able to tolerate this society’s definition of love and mateship. She was a curious creature, and she would satisfy her curiosity. And it was in times such as this, when her mind traveled over such things, that she understood the difference between herself and others. Perhaps it was pragmatism, or perhaps it was something else.
The warrior had been silent for a while, her gaze lingering upon the male. Then suddenly, she said, “You said that if I needed help, I could ask you....” The female’s alto melody was quiet, almost tentative. The white gaze lifted to his eyes once more as she continued. “I was wondering if you could...hunt a small meal for me right now...?” The female had realized how hungry she was, but in her state, she could not even hunt for herself. And as if accentuating this fact, a soft rumbling came from her stomach, and the female managed a small, apologetic smile.
500+
The woad bound ears swiveled at the sound of that sigh. It was a particular sound that she had never heard before, at least not quiet like this one. It was heavy and deep, but not only in the sound. That sigh seemed to resonate from his depth. The white orbs lifted to look at the male as if wondering at that sound. Perhaps she could not understand why he felt so deeply dissatisfied. And if he were so dissatisfied, she did not understand why he lingered. He seemed to be conflicted, and such conflict was waging a war within him. But it was something that she could not quite understand, for she could not read his mind to fully understand how it was that he was feeling. But this conflict reminded her of DaVinci, though she felt that it was of a different nature. She was silent, unwilling to break the silence. The black fae did not want to interrupt the male’s thoughts, for she knew that such a thing could prove to be dangerous—not for her, but for him. And so she was silent, calming herself and the pain that was constantly threatening to break through in an open cry.
When Dutch finally broke the silence, his yellow eyes were wild, frantic, but strangely meek. His voice, however, was a hoarse whisper. The female was internally confused, for a male had never displayed to her in this way before. On the surface, however, the warrior remained calm, yet it was not a cold impassivity, but a gentle one. “Such emotions cannot be controlled,” the alto melody spoke quietly and slowly, and the white orbs regarded the male carefully, as if she were deciding where next to tread. The silence was filled by the night before she permitted herself to continue. “I’m glad that you do not force such a thing upon me.... Forgive me, Biler’a,” the alto melody continued, and she paused momentarily. “I cannot reciprocate what it is you may be feeling—not even if you were to kill.” The white orbs met his yellow eyes with a gentleness belying the belligerence of which she was capable.
“I cannot satisfy your needs, physical or mental. But you will find another who will.” The female had not been lying when she had told him that she could not be bound by love. And love was a binding thing, something of which she could not be a part. And she would bear no male’s children, for she, selfishly perhaps, would not sacrifice her passion for younger and newer life. While the female was capable of the protection of pups and recognized their importance to the progression of life, she herself could not tolerate their presence for long. And she knew that love did not require the bearing of young, but she was not able to tolerate this society’s definition of love and mateship. She was a curious creature, and she would satisfy her curiosity. And it was in times such as this, when her mind traveled over such things, that she understood the difference between herself and others. Perhaps it was pragmatism, or perhaps it was something else.
The warrior had been silent for a while, her gaze lingering upon the male. Then suddenly, she said, “You said that if I needed help, I could ask you....” The female’s alto melody was quiet, almost tentative. The white gaze lifted to his eyes once more as she continued. “I was wondering if you could...hunt a small meal for me right now...?” The female had realized how hungry she was, but in her state, she could not even hunt for herself. And as if accentuating this fact, a soft rumbling came from her stomach, and the female managed a small, apologetic smile.