05-28-2009, 01:13 PM
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500+
There was a quiet frustration within the woman, if such a diluted emotion could be named as such. It frustrated her that Haku believed he could control her in such a way. Indeed, Haku was her superior and she would obey him to an extent that it could be called a fault. But the warrior’s discipline was quite complete. Cercelee trusted Haku, and Cwmfen had trusted Haku. Had. But now he seemed to change—she wondered what it was that had elicited such a thing. It did not help, she decided, that she spent much of her time moving about the lands. She had seen very little of her pack members, especially Cercelee and Haku. It was in that time that the change had occurred, or so she believed. But Haku was not yet out of control. Because she was the Adonis, serving ultimately beneath the Rosea, the woman felt that it was her business to be wary of Haku’s actions. And perhaps she should meet with the Rosea soon, if only to catch up and if only to tell her what it was that she had seen thus far throughout the lands.
But there was the matter of her father as well. Onus had told her. He was still here, and he had grown more aggressive. The warrior did not waste her time with thoughts that it was her fault—she knew that her choices did not directly provoke her father. And yet, she recognized also that the sole reason for her father’s presence within these lands was to come for her. Within her soul, from the moment she had sought to join Dahlia de Mai, the woman had known that her father would find her. It had not been a surprise. And she felt now that her inability to face the crow wolf had indirectly effected those attacks. A quiet sigh escaped her. It had begun with Onus, who she had found dying in the rain. The love she now could admit to having was now given to that masked man, and she knew that her father would not leave until he had taken everything from her. But her father had also attacked Ezekiel, and that had been for the simple possession of her scent upon his fur. The golden boy had also faced death.
And it was with the thought of that boy that she found herself upon those ashened slopes. The woad warrior stood with her back to the world, her white orbs beholding the charred earth of an earlier world. Those eyes were contemplative. She knew that soon she would have to face him. That was inevitable, and she knew it. The only question would be when. Silently, the woman sat, a single, graceful movement. The black ashes rose upon the wind with her movement, carried for a moment by the golden air. And yet the world sang a different song than it had when she had first met Ezekiel. Since the moment she had left the lands of Inferni, she had never seen or heard of the boy. There was a quiet worry within her soul, but she did not doubt that Gabriel de le Poer had taken care of his son. She had seen the rage in those eyes. The white orbs lifted as if seeking something. But there was nothing save her beautiful solitude.
500+
There was a quiet frustration within the woman, if such a diluted emotion could be named as such. It frustrated her that Haku believed he could control her in such a way. Indeed, Haku was her superior and she would obey him to an extent that it could be called a fault. But the warrior’s discipline was quite complete. Cercelee trusted Haku, and Cwmfen had trusted Haku. Had. But now he seemed to change—she wondered what it was that had elicited such a thing. It did not help, she decided, that she spent much of her time moving about the lands. She had seen very little of her pack members, especially Cercelee and Haku. It was in that time that the change had occurred, or so she believed. But Haku was not yet out of control. Because she was the Adonis, serving ultimately beneath the Rosea, the woman felt that it was her business to be wary of Haku’s actions. And perhaps she should meet with the Rosea soon, if only to catch up and if only to tell her what it was that she had seen thus far throughout the lands.
But there was the matter of her father as well. Onus had told her. He was still here, and he had grown more aggressive. The warrior did not waste her time with thoughts that it was her fault—she knew that her choices did not directly provoke her father. And yet, she recognized also that the sole reason for her father’s presence within these lands was to come for her. Within her soul, from the moment she had sought to join Dahlia de Mai, the woman had known that her father would find her. It had not been a surprise. And she felt now that her inability to face the crow wolf had indirectly effected those attacks. A quiet sigh escaped her. It had begun with Onus, who she had found dying in the rain. The love she now could admit to having was now given to that masked man, and she knew that her father would not leave until he had taken everything from her. But her father had also attacked Ezekiel, and that had been for the simple possession of her scent upon his fur. The golden boy had also faced death.
And it was with the thought of that boy that she found herself upon those ashened slopes. The woad warrior stood with her back to the world, her white orbs beholding the charred earth of an earlier world. Those eyes were contemplative. She knew that soon she would have to face him. That was inevitable, and she knew it. The only question would be when. Silently, the woman sat, a single, graceful movement. The black ashes rose upon the wind with her movement, carried for a moment by the golden air. And yet the world sang a different song than it had when she had first met Ezekiel. Since the moment she had left the lands of Inferni, she had never seen or heard of the boy. There was a quiet worry within her soul, but she did not doubt that Gabriel de le Poer had taken care of his son. She had seen the rage in those eyes. The white orbs lifted as if seeking something. But there was nothing save her beautiful solitude.