04-09-2009, 12:56 AM
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Sorry for the crap! I just wanted to get this up before I get swamped with hw tomorrow, TT^TT
300+
The warrior carried the limp form in her arms, and as she travelled, she was keenly aware of the broken bones, aware that with every stride, the boy probably felt as if he were dying. And the female didn’t tell him that he would die if she didn’t find someone quickly, for she knew that hopelessness was just as merciless a killer as Death. The white orbs occasionally looked down to meet the boy’s gaze, to offer him a reminder that he wasn’t alone. And the warrior would not let him die. That was why he would have to suffer for these long moments more until she reached the boarders of his home. The black fae admitted that she had never been near these boarders, and she hoped now that someone would be there. She prayed silently to her gods, especially the goddess, that there would be someone there.
The procession of skulls that haunted the boarders did not make a strong impression upon her; she was neither heeding them with the proper attention, nor was she unfamiliar with such practices. But she could not admit that she had felt a cold passing upon her morals as she deliberately crossed the boarder, and the white orbs scanned this unfamiliar territory as she went. Then she let out a howl, raising her maw and pausing only slightly as she sent that brief call into the air. As a Dahlian, the warrior would have felt the full impact of the transgression she now made. But as a friend and mentor of the boy in her arms, the female was not so concerned. The woad bound fingers gripped the boy’s fur as she finally allowed herself to cease, unwilling to acknowledge her angry scars but willing to acknowledge her lack of knowledge of these lands.
Sorry for the crap! I just wanted to get this up before I get swamped with hw tomorrow, TT^TT
300+
The warrior carried the limp form in her arms, and as she travelled, she was keenly aware of the broken bones, aware that with every stride, the boy probably felt as if he were dying. And the female didn’t tell him that he would die if she didn’t find someone quickly, for she knew that hopelessness was just as merciless a killer as Death. The white orbs occasionally looked down to meet the boy’s gaze, to offer him a reminder that he wasn’t alone. And the warrior would not let him die. That was why he would have to suffer for these long moments more until she reached the boarders of his home. The black fae admitted that she had never been near these boarders, and she hoped now that someone would be there. She prayed silently to her gods, especially the goddess, that there would be someone there.
The procession of skulls that haunted the boarders did not make a strong impression upon her; she was neither heeding them with the proper attention, nor was she unfamiliar with such practices. But she could not admit that she had felt a cold passing upon her morals as she deliberately crossed the boarder, and the white orbs scanned this unfamiliar territory as she went. Then she let out a howl, raising her maw and pausing only slightly as she sent that brief call into the air. As a Dahlian, the warrior would have felt the full impact of the transgression she now made. But as a friend and mentor of the boy in her arms, the female was not so concerned. The woad bound fingers gripped the boy’s fur as she finally allowed herself to cease, unwilling to acknowledge her angry scars but willing to acknowledge her lack of knowledge of these lands.