03-21-2009, 09:35 PM
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Sorry for the wait! I’ve had a lot going on this week, OnO
500+
The warrior’s resolve was not phased, and she seemed unmoved by the other female’s agitation. If there was one thing that war could teach, it was self control and control of the mind. The female could harden herself, could distance herself on the outside. It was the inside, the soul, that could not be changed, and that flowed and worked like a great river of time, that thought and felt. And while the black fae was unmoved upon the surface, within she was confused. Yet, she never became uncertain about what had happened. The wolf was a warrior and followed instinct. She had scented this female’s scent, had heard Svara’s subtle diction, and she now saw and scented the blood that remained unwashed upon the wheat eyed fae. What bothered the warrior was that this mother did not seem to comprehend what had happened. The quality of another’s character was always in question to the female who could not allow herself to trust too deeply. And her confidence in the brown hued fae as a member was slowly fading.
“You infer incorrectly,” the alto melody countered, continually tranquil as it sang. The white orbs remained unwavering. “This weapon was used against you.” She paused for a moment as she remembered the blood upon the earth. Svara had not used the weapon as it was intended, but against her mother, at least in the defense of herself it had been used incorrectly. While the warrior was sure that Svara had been able to provoke her mother with that incessant sound that was a voice, it gave the other no excuse for the behavior and results of that behavior. “There is still blood upon it, and there is still blood upon you.” The female sniffed the air again, and she knew that the scent of the blood was faint and perhaps indiscernible. Through the night, it had mingled with Sabeen’s own scent and the scent of sleep. Svara’s essence still remained, but it was not strong—perhaps even questionable. To the warrior, however, none of it was questionable. What had happened was indubitable.
A snarl was ready upon her maw, but it did not make itself manifest. “Watch your tone, Filix,” and the alto melody was rough as she spoke, holding darker tones of silver. “What has happened to Svara is very clear to me; what I have found leads me to you. You are in no place to so challenge me.” The warrior very much disliked disrespect. Even if a superior were to say something incorrectly, it was proper to simply accept and counter later, when proof could be openly and readily obtained. Currently, Sabeen had nothing while Cwmfen had even the weapon that held her blood, had seen the girl that had lost her sight. Then in a quieter voice, as if Cwmfen were thinking to herself, she said, “The Truth will make itself known in due time.” The woad marked fae did not believe in coincidence, and she believed that events occurred for a reason. Perhaps this was not Sabeen’s time to accept what had happened. But the Adonis knew that such a time would come.
500+
The warrior’s resolve was not phased, and she seemed unmoved by the other female’s agitation. If there was one thing that war could teach, it was self control and control of the mind. The female could harden herself, could distance herself on the outside. It was the inside, the soul, that could not be changed, and that flowed and worked like a great river of time, that thought and felt. And while the black fae was unmoved upon the surface, within she was confused. Yet, she never became uncertain about what had happened. The wolf was a warrior and followed instinct. She had scented this female’s scent, had heard Svara’s subtle diction, and she now saw and scented the blood that remained unwashed upon the wheat eyed fae. What bothered the warrior was that this mother did not seem to comprehend what had happened. The quality of another’s character was always in question to the female who could not allow herself to trust too deeply. And her confidence in the brown hued fae as a member was slowly fading.
“You infer incorrectly,” the alto melody countered, continually tranquil as it sang. The white orbs remained unwavering. “This weapon was used against you.” She paused for a moment as she remembered the blood upon the earth. Svara had not used the weapon as it was intended, but against her mother, at least in the defense of herself it had been used incorrectly. While the warrior was sure that Svara had been able to provoke her mother with that incessant sound that was a voice, it gave the other no excuse for the behavior and results of that behavior. “There is still blood upon it, and there is still blood upon you.” The female sniffed the air again, and she knew that the scent of the blood was faint and perhaps indiscernible. Through the night, it had mingled with Sabeen’s own scent and the scent of sleep. Svara’s essence still remained, but it was not strong—perhaps even questionable. To the warrior, however, none of it was questionable. What had happened was indubitable.
A snarl was ready upon her maw, but it did not make itself manifest. “Watch your tone, Filix,” and the alto melody was rough as she spoke, holding darker tones of silver. “What has happened to Svara is very clear to me; what I have found leads me to you. You are in no place to so challenge me.” The warrior very much disliked disrespect. Even if a superior were to say something incorrectly, it was proper to simply accept and counter later, when proof could be openly and readily obtained. Currently, Sabeen had nothing while Cwmfen had even the weapon that held her blood, had seen the girl that had lost her sight. Then in a quieter voice, as if Cwmfen were thinking to herself, she said, “The Truth will make itself known in due time.” The woad marked fae did not believe in coincidence, and she believed that events occurred for a reason. Perhaps this was not Sabeen’s time to accept what had happened. But the Adonis knew that such a time would come.