04-27-2009, 09:20 AM
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| http://i692.photobucket.com/albums/vv28 ... /raven.png); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: bottom; border:1px solid black;"> Word Count: 472 Despite his efforts to calm himself down he was still at a loss as to how to handle everything. True, his own anger had surprised him, and it did not suit him - did not taste well in his mouth. He did not enjoy violence, or hostility. Of course, he knew he had done the right thing, and still he could feel contempt rise to his throat when he thought about the event. No matter Brennt's - shall we say - lack of social competence, Dawali had felt his hackles rise from more than just his own emotion. For a moment someone had stared at him through those eyes, someone he had not encountered, and who he did not wish to encounter. It had not been the person who so clumsily had revealed his sickening intent at his borders - no, it had been someone wholly different. How abruptly had his stance changed, the dullness of his eyes transforming to something completely wild, intense, uncontrollable - someone he would not fight, for the fear of his own life. That was what stirred a maelstrom in his self - the confusion, and the fear. Had he imagined it all? No, Gvihita confirmed to the smallest detail his perception. But they were linked, his precious bird and himself - was he in the wrong? He had not overreacted in his opinion; every action he had taken was in the right in his own mind. He had sworn himself to warn other packs, and he would do so - first this Dahlia de Mai place, of selfish reasons: He wished, if he got the chance, to catch a glimpse of this Haku Soul who apparently knew nothing of his four pups in the tribe. It was curiosity that drove him, and he knew better than to reveal that intent - he was slightly more advanced in such skills than Brennt had turned out to be. A mighty bird sat on his shoulder, and for once her claws did not feel as if they were digging into his skin. She'd not said anything since the encounter, except to confirm his questions in the aftermath, and stayed in her solid form now, visible to anyone. Her yellow gaze pierced the dampness of a mild spring morning as Dawali approached the borders of the pack, whose numbers were the largest around here, apparently. Raising a red muzzle to the sky, breathing in the night, which he had not slept in, the pack leader called out for someone of authority - someone who would take his request seriously, and bring his message to those who needed to know it the most. He felt rather insecure where he stood, waiting for someone to come along: smaller of species, he was a slender - but tall - and feather-decorated male on a quest to save the world's puppies from a horrible fate. Terrible sting, terrible storm. |