09-12-2009, 01:49 PM
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Word Count: 417
His grin stayed as Noir very nearly assaulted the great eagle with a river of words. Not saying anything he simply looked at the bird with a greatly amused glint in his eyes, savoring the moment. Really, even if she liked children, her patience would thin from this. She liked admiration, but not the kind that was offered to her by the child. Aesthetics and the like was not in the least interesting to the powerful female spirit - no, she valued respect or fear. If Noir had called her powerful or intimidating, she would have bristled her furs in pride, but now Dawali was certain that if she had been able to, her face would have formed a frown. Not only did the little female (as Gvihita had called Noir before, when speaking with Dawali) talk about 'being pretty', she also questioned the bird's silence. At the thought of singing (the thought itself was simply ludicrous to her), Gvihita was so offended that she spread those wings once more, and now she flew from Dawali's shoulder with a vicious shriek, a flurry of indignation and feathers and bruised pride. Really, a singing eagle? Dawali chuckled now, and realized he had something now that he could always annoy the great bird with. His eyes shifted to the 'little female' again when another river of words was directed at himself.
The questions she asked were of the philosophical kind, really. These beings of the spiritual world - they only stepped into Noir's and Dawali's world because of the obligation of guidance. They masked themselves to look alike other creatures of this place, and to behave and feel and smell like parts of the earth that the wolves knew - but they were not. They did not sleep or eat, although strangely enough Gvihita enjoyed hunting fiercely. Perhaps, somewhere along the line, when the spirits had remained in their earthen forms long enough, some of an animal's instincts rubbed off on them. Truth be told, he didn't know, and if you asked them they did not answer. It was not their place to know these things, the wolves of the earth. "Well, Noir, they're not like us at all. They look like they fit in here, and you can touch them just like anything else, but they're from somewhere else. And where they come from they don't need food or sleep. They're just disguising themselves so they can fit into our world. They never die, either, isn't that neat?"
By James! [/html]
His grin stayed as Noir very nearly assaulted the great eagle with a river of words. Not saying anything he simply looked at the bird with a greatly amused glint in his eyes, savoring the moment. Really, even if she liked children, her patience would thin from this. She liked admiration, but not the kind that was offered to her by the child. Aesthetics and the like was not in the least interesting to the powerful female spirit - no, she valued respect or fear. If Noir had called her powerful or intimidating, she would have bristled her furs in pride, but now Dawali was certain that if she had been able to, her face would have formed a frown. Not only did the little female (as Gvihita had called Noir before, when speaking with Dawali) talk about 'being pretty', she also questioned the bird's silence. At the thought of singing (the thought itself was simply ludicrous to her), Gvihita was so offended that she spread those wings once more, and now she flew from Dawali's shoulder with a vicious shriek, a flurry of indignation and feathers and bruised pride. Really, a singing eagle? Dawali chuckled now, and realized he had something now that he could always annoy the great bird with. His eyes shifted to the 'little female' again when another river of words was directed at himself.
The questions she asked were of the philosophical kind, really. These beings of the spiritual world - they only stepped into Noir's and Dawali's world because of the obligation of guidance. They masked themselves to look alike other creatures of this place, and to behave and feel and smell like parts of the earth that the wolves knew - but they were not. They did not sleep or eat, although strangely enough Gvihita enjoyed hunting fiercely. Perhaps, somewhere along the line, when the spirits had remained in their earthen forms long enough, some of an animal's instincts rubbed off on them. Truth be told, he didn't know, and if you asked them they did not answer. It was not their place to know these things, the wolves of the earth. "Well, Noir, they're not like us at all. They look like they fit in here, and you can touch them just like anything else, but they're from somewhere else. And where they come from they don't need food or sleep. They're just disguising themselves so they can fit into our world. They never die, either, isn't that neat?"
By James!