07-04-2009, 03:35 PM
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Can we post date it to the 5th? That way Onus can take her home on the 4th and then she can move around on the 5th, ^=^;;;
500+
The warrior had returned to Dahlia. It had been a bittersweet parting, but she believed that it had been necessary. While wishing that she could have returned to Dahlia de Main on her own, she was glad that Onus had been there to help her. Without him, she would not have made it far. The wound upon her right leg did not allow her much freedom, and she would have worried that she would hurt whatever was inside of her should she had fallen. But he had been there to catch her as he had been there for her upon that dark night. And yet she could repay him only with the harboring of a child of the crow wolf. Indeed, she had not succumbed to the blackness of her father’s soul, but how long would it be until it consumed her? The unease that she felt was gone. With her departure from Onus, she felt that she would not force him to remember a number of things that surely plagued his mind.
The black fae had slept upon the soft grasses outside her den. She had not allowed her den space enough to allow for the entry of a pregnant luperci. But with her body’s strange new shape, she would have felt closed in. The grasses were soft and lush, and the warm air of summer was cooled by the soft drizzling of rain that was continuous throughout the night. She awoke with dawn as she was accustom to doing, but it was still dark for the overcast clouds. Slowly, she pushed herself up with her right hand, and she felt heavy and clumsy for the weight of her stomach. Briefly, as the Dreaming fell away, she wondered at Sankor’s behavior. But he had been upset with her before—perhaps she had done something involuntarily to displease him.... Perhaps she should find him again. The black fae reached over, grasping the shaft of her spear. As its song leapt in her hand, the woman used the weapon to provide her stability as she pushed herself up. The familiar pain throbbed in her leg, but she was already accustom to it. With a soft grunt, she brushed the pain’s insistence aside. It would continue, she knew, with every step.
Despite the security with which she should have provided herself, the Dahlian warrior slowly made her way to the boarders. Despite the wound, her progress was swift, and her grace, despite the limp, took on a different lilt. With the aid of the spear, she was able to minimize the distraction of the pain, but her silence was sacrificed for the soft whisper of her passing. When she reached the boarders, the woman paused, a serene content washing over her. Her acute senses were heightened by the hormones within her body, and she felt that instinctual need to protect the life within her. Aggression was moving through her mind already when she heard the approach of another. She turned swiftly to meet the approaching one, her plain face distorted by that snarl that was so rarely upon her features. Growling openly, the woman lifted her spear, ignoring the protest of her leg but shifted her weight to her left. Regardless of her pregnant state, the woman was still a warrior.
Can we post date it to the 5th? That way Onus can take her home on the 4th and then she can move around on the 5th, ^=^;;;
500+
The warrior had returned to Dahlia. It had been a bittersweet parting, but she believed that it had been necessary. While wishing that she could have returned to Dahlia de Main on her own, she was glad that Onus had been there to help her. Without him, she would not have made it far. The wound upon her right leg did not allow her much freedom, and she would have worried that she would hurt whatever was inside of her should she had fallen. But he had been there to catch her as he had been there for her upon that dark night. And yet she could repay him only with the harboring of a child of the crow wolf. Indeed, she had not succumbed to the blackness of her father’s soul, but how long would it be until it consumed her? The unease that she felt was gone. With her departure from Onus, she felt that she would not force him to remember a number of things that surely plagued his mind.
The black fae had slept upon the soft grasses outside her den. She had not allowed her den space enough to allow for the entry of a pregnant luperci. But with her body’s strange new shape, she would have felt closed in. The grasses were soft and lush, and the warm air of summer was cooled by the soft drizzling of rain that was continuous throughout the night. She awoke with dawn as she was accustom to doing, but it was still dark for the overcast clouds. Slowly, she pushed herself up with her right hand, and she felt heavy and clumsy for the weight of her stomach. Briefly, as the Dreaming fell away, she wondered at Sankor’s behavior. But he had been upset with her before—perhaps she had done something involuntarily to displease him.... Perhaps she should find him again. The black fae reached over, grasping the shaft of her spear. As its song leapt in her hand, the woman used the weapon to provide her stability as she pushed herself up. The familiar pain throbbed in her leg, but she was already accustom to it. With a soft grunt, she brushed the pain’s insistence aside. It would continue, she knew, with every step.
Despite the security with which she should have provided herself, the Dahlian warrior slowly made her way to the boarders. Despite the wound, her progress was swift, and her grace, despite the limp, took on a different lilt. With the aid of the spear, she was able to minimize the distraction of the pain, but her silence was sacrificed for the soft whisper of her passing. When she reached the boarders, the woman paused, a serene content washing over her. Her acute senses were heightened by the hormones within her body, and she felt that instinctual need to protect the life within her. Aggression was moving through her mind already when she heard the approach of another. She turned swiftly to meet the approaching one, her plain face distorted by that snarl that was so rarely upon her features. Growling openly, the woman lifted her spear, ignoring the protest of her leg but shifted her weight to her left. Regardless of her pregnant state, the woman was still a warrior.