05-06-2009, 12:22 AM
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No backdating or anything, right? ^=^;;
500+
The black she wolf trotted slowly through Dahlia, trailing along the sinuous trail of water that lead to both Oberon’s Spring and her own den. Her movements retained that ethereal grace despite the limp in her hind legs. It was difficult to walk with the wounds that laced her lower back and flank, but these wounds that had been inflicted by Brennt were nothing compared to what Hybrid had done. And so she had not sought a healer, content with simply cleaning the wounds periodically with her pink tongue, gingerly but thoroughly. Already the wounds had begun to heal without the stink of infection, but it would be at least a weak before the woman would be comfortable shifting again. And it was ideal to remain in this lupus form, for the bipedal form did not distribute weight as her current form did. The warrior would not have been able to move very fast if at all. But this was not a concern for the woman often preferred the lupus form over the other, having spent practically all of the first two years of her life in ignorance of her luperci status.
The woad bound maw lowered to the earth, taking in that calming scent of the natural world. The world was comfortably warm, the sharp rays of the sun diffused by the clouds above. And the world was at peace, the air quiet as she moved through the woods with a silent grace. The songs of birds occasionally broke that silence, some of which still called for a mating partner with which to procreate the species. The woad-marked fae breathed quietly, content with the solitude that surrounded her. And for a while the woman would remain as such because the wounds would prevent her from doing otherwise. However, the warrior was quite patient as was becoming of those trained in the martial life, and while self-trained, she was no exception. If one would practice diligently with a cleared soul and mind, such a tranquil state was inevitable. And she had believed herself incapable of extreme emotions, even great anger, until she had met a male.... But she could not pull him from his duty.
Cwmfen paused, her head lifting as her woad bound ears erected upon her head. She thought that she had heard movement.... The movement had differed from the rhythmic breathing of the forest that had remained constant in the backdrop. That change broke through her thoughts, causing her to pause and consider. The Raven crawed above her, indicating that she was not mistaken. And the warrior was not troubled—she did not think that that sound had meant to threaten her. And deep within the packland, she did not expect (though she did consider) that an enemy had entered. For a moment, the woman thought of the pup that she had spared from the jaws of Brennt. She thought of the yellow-eyed male and thought what a shame it was to lose that trust, to lose that mind for the inability to control that singular impulse. There were so few left within the world who retained such natural instinct. Dawali was right. Something would have to be done.
No backdating or anything, right? ^=^;;
500+
The black she wolf trotted slowly through Dahlia, trailing along the sinuous trail of water that lead to both Oberon’s Spring and her own den. Her movements retained that ethereal grace despite the limp in her hind legs. It was difficult to walk with the wounds that laced her lower back and flank, but these wounds that had been inflicted by Brennt were nothing compared to what Hybrid had done. And so she had not sought a healer, content with simply cleaning the wounds periodically with her pink tongue, gingerly but thoroughly. Already the wounds had begun to heal without the stink of infection, but it would be at least a weak before the woman would be comfortable shifting again. And it was ideal to remain in this lupus form, for the bipedal form did not distribute weight as her current form did. The warrior would not have been able to move very fast if at all. But this was not a concern for the woman often preferred the lupus form over the other, having spent practically all of the first two years of her life in ignorance of her luperci status.
The woad bound maw lowered to the earth, taking in that calming scent of the natural world. The world was comfortably warm, the sharp rays of the sun diffused by the clouds above. And the world was at peace, the air quiet as she moved through the woods with a silent grace. The songs of birds occasionally broke that silence, some of which still called for a mating partner with which to procreate the species. The woad-marked fae breathed quietly, content with the solitude that surrounded her. And for a while the woman would remain as such because the wounds would prevent her from doing otherwise. However, the warrior was quite patient as was becoming of those trained in the martial life, and while self-trained, she was no exception. If one would practice diligently with a cleared soul and mind, such a tranquil state was inevitable. And she had believed herself incapable of extreme emotions, even great anger, until she had met a male.... But she could not pull him from his duty.
Cwmfen paused, her head lifting as her woad bound ears erected upon her head. She thought that she had heard movement.... The movement had differed from the rhythmic breathing of the forest that had remained constant in the backdrop. That change broke through her thoughts, causing her to pause and consider. The Raven crawed above her, indicating that she was not mistaken. And the warrior was not troubled—she did not think that that sound had meant to threaten her. And deep within the packland, she did not expect (though she did consider) that an enemy had entered. For a moment, the woman thought of the pup that she had spared from the jaws of Brennt. She thought of the yellow-eyed male and thought what a shame it was to lose that trust, to lose that mind for the inability to control that singular impulse. There were so few left within the world who retained such natural instinct. Dawali was right. Something would have to be done.