03-10-2009, 08:51 PM
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500+
The female recognized the scent immediately when she looked up to see the stranger walk across the fields. The white orbs watched the figure from a distance silently, standing motionless. The beauty of the day was lost upon her as she realized where the scent was from. She had smelt it at the scene of Svara’s mutilation. The warrior growled. Such a thing was inexcusable, and she would deal as she must with this woman, whoever she was. Perhaps it would have been better if she had met with all pack members before hand. Perhaps in doing so, she would have been able to assess their characters. And perhaps she would have been able to spare Svara her pain. But she knew that it could not all be held upon her. She did not doubt that the girl would have provoked an attack, but pack members did not go to such lengths. Spars and disagreements were inevitable. Small scars and wounds were excusable. But to take the eyes from the head of another—that was inexcusable. And the warrior saw no honor in a creature who would do that to family.
Grasping the knife that she had given to Svara in her hand, the female crossed the clearing slowly, deliberately, commanding a presence as she went. The wounds on her body were not fully healed, but she would risk whatever it was to come to the bottom of this. Briefly, the female thought of Onus. This would be something in which he would have indulged, that creature of Justice. Cwmfen did not have such an honorable cause. She was merely a warrior, a respectable creature that fought with a love for battle and a need to protect her pack. And now, whether the girl wanted it or not, Svara needed protecting. The white orbs were hard with their disappointment of the pack member, but her soul was the tranquility of an enlightened warrior. The woad swirled tail waved behind her as she walked, almost catlike in its gesture of displeasure. And she did not hide her intent from the female as she approached, intercepting the brown female’s path.
The scent of blood covered the other female, and she knew without a doubt that this must be the perpetrator. Cwmfen’s posture was erect. She was silent as the white orbs considered the other, and it was almost as if the warrior were deciding where to begin the confrontation. “I am Cwmfen nic Graine,” the alto melody finally sang, but her melody was hard, though not yet hostile. She gave a curt bow. Even in such situations, the warrior was not without respect and honor. “You are....?” The warrior gave a clear cue to the brown hued woman with the scars to provide her name. Before she would make her end clear, it would be proper for introduction to be made. As she stood there grasping the crow knife and standing with a commanding air, it did not appear as if the woad marked fae had ever been injured.
The female recognized the scent immediately when she looked up to see the stranger walk across the fields. The white orbs watched the figure from a distance silently, standing motionless. The beauty of the day was lost upon her as she realized where the scent was from. She had smelt it at the scene of Svara’s mutilation. The warrior growled. Such a thing was inexcusable, and she would deal as she must with this woman, whoever she was. Perhaps it would have been better if she had met with all pack members before hand. Perhaps in doing so, she would have been able to assess their characters. And perhaps she would have been able to spare Svara her pain. But she knew that it could not all be held upon her. She did not doubt that the girl would have provoked an attack, but pack members did not go to such lengths. Spars and disagreements were inevitable. Small scars and wounds were excusable. But to take the eyes from the head of another—that was inexcusable. And the warrior saw no honor in a creature who would do that to family.
Grasping the knife that she had given to Svara in her hand, the female crossed the clearing slowly, deliberately, commanding a presence as she went. The wounds on her body were not fully healed, but she would risk whatever it was to come to the bottom of this. Briefly, the female thought of Onus. This would be something in which he would have indulged, that creature of Justice. Cwmfen did not have such an honorable cause. She was merely a warrior, a respectable creature that fought with a love for battle and a need to protect her pack. And now, whether the girl wanted it or not, Svara needed protecting. The white orbs were hard with their disappointment of the pack member, but her soul was the tranquility of an enlightened warrior. The woad swirled tail waved behind her as she walked, almost catlike in its gesture of displeasure. And she did not hide her intent from the female as she approached, intercepting the brown female’s path.
The scent of blood covered the other female, and she knew without a doubt that this must be the perpetrator. Cwmfen’s posture was erect. She was silent as the white orbs considered the other, and it was almost as if the warrior were deciding where to begin the confrontation. “I am Cwmfen nic Graine,” the alto melody finally sang, but her melody was hard, though not yet hostile. She gave a curt bow. Even in such situations, the warrior was not without respect and honor. “You are....?” The warrior gave a clear cue to the brown hued woman with the scars to provide her name. Before she would make her end clear, it would be proper for introduction to be made. As she stood there grasping the crow knife and standing with a commanding air, it did not appear as if the woad marked fae had ever been injured.