05-31-2009, 04:42 PM
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500+
Something changed. She could feel it. The white orbs had watched the boy carefully, but the change had not been physical, although there had been a physical response, she believed that such a response had been stimulated by that intangible shift of his mind. The air was lighter, though she had not felt the heaviness of his presence until it had been lifted. And she had to admit that there was a certain amount of relief. That darkness that had been present only moments before was dangerous, and she did not wish to fight against the boy should it have come to that. But then he wagged his tail, continuing to approach, and the woman knew that she would not have to do such a thing. And she was relieved that the boy had not fallen too deeply into that dark, brooding cloud. And yet...she could not be too sure. If she had learned anything while crossing the land of ice, it was that one cannot trust too deeply the soul of another.
As Ezekiel approached, taking a seat beside her, the woman could observe him more closely. He was changed—heavier perhaps, but that was not the change that she noted. "Recovering is always the most frustrating part," the soft melody agreed, remembering when she had been attacked by Hybrid. Even the wounds that had been inflicted by Brennt had taken time to heal. Yet none of those attacks had exhibited the broken bones that this boy had faced. "But it is a part from which we must learn." The process of healing, especially for a warrior, rendered one useless until the wounds were healed. And in that time, the mind had much to dwell upon: the mistakes made, why the enemy won, how can such things be changed, how can one succeed. But the understanding of oneself and ones body was the most important. But it was a thing that could come from only the individual himself.
The silence was broken by that question. The woad marked fae was silent, her gaze considering the dark ash about her. It was not an unreasonable question, and she knew that the crow wolf must have plagued his mind as much as it had hers. "He wants something from me," the soft alto said at length. Her gaze lifted from the ground to find the young man’s face. Perhaps he would judge her, but ultimately the woman could judge only herself, and she had. A sigh of frustration threatened to escape her, but she held it back. "From my mother he wanted a son that carried the bloodline of my ancestors. But he was given a daughter instead." Of course the daughter was herself, but whether or not she had been given was debatable. There was a slight pause that followed before the woman continued, her words slow as if to comprehend them. "He still wants that son." There was fear in the deeper recesses of her mind, but such a fear had not yet consumed her.
500+
Something changed. She could feel it. The white orbs had watched the boy carefully, but the change had not been physical, although there had been a physical response, she believed that such a response had been stimulated by that intangible shift of his mind. The air was lighter, though she had not felt the heaviness of his presence until it had been lifted. And she had to admit that there was a certain amount of relief. That darkness that had been present only moments before was dangerous, and she did not wish to fight against the boy should it have come to that. But then he wagged his tail, continuing to approach, and the woman knew that she would not have to do such a thing. And she was relieved that the boy had not fallen too deeply into that dark, brooding cloud. And yet...she could not be too sure. If she had learned anything while crossing the land of ice, it was that one cannot trust too deeply the soul of another.
As Ezekiel approached, taking a seat beside her, the woman could observe him more closely. He was changed—heavier perhaps, but that was not the change that she noted. "Recovering is always the most frustrating part," the soft melody agreed, remembering when she had been attacked by Hybrid. Even the wounds that had been inflicted by Brennt had taken time to heal. Yet none of those attacks had exhibited the broken bones that this boy had faced. "But it is a part from which we must learn." The process of healing, especially for a warrior, rendered one useless until the wounds were healed. And in that time, the mind had much to dwell upon: the mistakes made, why the enemy won, how can such things be changed, how can one succeed. But the understanding of oneself and ones body was the most important. But it was a thing that could come from only the individual himself.
The silence was broken by that question. The woad marked fae was silent, her gaze considering the dark ash about her. It was not an unreasonable question, and she knew that the crow wolf must have plagued his mind as much as it had hers. "He wants something from me," the soft alto said at length. Her gaze lifted from the ground to find the young man’s face. Perhaps he would judge her, but ultimately the woman could judge only herself, and she had. A sigh of frustration threatened to escape her, but she held it back. "From my mother he wanted a son that carried the bloodline of my ancestors. But he was given a daughter instead." Of course the daughter was herself, but whether or not she had been given was debatable. There was a slight pause that followed before the woman continued, her words slow as if to comprehend them. "He still wants that son." There was fear in the deeper recesses of her mind, but such a fear had not yet consumed her.