07-06-2009, 01:41 AM
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Sorry for the wait! Let’s set this on the 6th, on the boarder that’s on Shattered Coast.
500+
The Raven Dreamer awoke, chased from that Dream World by the harsh calls of a Raven’s beak. Last night, the Raven’s form had taken the shape of the one-eyed Raven that had once followed her, his call loud despite his shut beak. She wondered if it had been his voice also that had chased her from her Dreams, but the familiarity and the memory of such a thing faded with her opening eyes. She knew not of the whereabouts of that nameless bird, that pied Raven that had been the epitome of her Dream. When she found the bird, she would kill it. That she knew. The betrayal of that creature was not one that she would tolerate. While no words had been spoke of such a thing, she knew that it had been the Raven that had so acutely allowed her father to do what he had done and to know what he had known. Absently, the woman’s hand strayed near that intimate place, those woad bound fingers gently crossing over the branded Darkness upon that inner left thigh. Only the Raven, aside from Onus and herself, could have known such a thing.
The woman rose with relative ease, though she still required the aid of the tree. The pain within her leg was less severe that day, as if the wound understood and remembered movement, as if the wound were willing to relent to her will. Having risen to her full height, her left hand holding gently her pregnant belly, the woman’s eyes turned toward the tree. She thanked the tree as she did every morning, grateful for its watchful diligence. Even then, with the rain falling persistently with that breathtaking melody, the tree’s full canopy had kept much of the moisture from her body, which demanded warmth. It was strange, she thought suddenly, to wake each morning alone.... She did not deny that there was a quiet ache within her for his company.
The white orbs fell finally upon the Raven Spear that lay quietly against the tree, whispering to her through the song of the rain. The woad warrior considered it, wondering if she should go out to the boarders today. Despite her wounds and despite her pregnant state, the woman was far from vulnerable. And with a spear, she believed that she could ward off any threat that may show up upon her boarders. Of course, she would only stay out for several hours. It would be unwise for her to push the limits of her body’s endurance. It would be dangerous, even if she should be alone. The Demon’s Trail would not be traversed by the black fae until she had birthed the litter. With her encumbered body, there was no grantee that she could navigate that treacherous place with ease. If she clung to the southern boarder, her outing would be better served.
Although she had risen with the hidden sun, her progress was slowed by her somewhat fluid limp. The woman, however, did not use the Spear’s shaft to aid her progress, for such use of a weapon would be disrespectful. Instead, the blade of the Raven Spear bit the sky with its angled elevation, the song singing hungrily through the female’s soul. Shattered Coast began to unfurl alongside her, the white orbs flickering across a terrain she had traveled often. She paused, emerging from the trees and for a moment able to enjoy the simplicity of life, allowing her Dream to be forgotten and the troubles and her longings held at bay.
Sorry for the wait! Let’s set this on the 6th, on the boarder that’s on Shattered Coast.
500+
The Raven Dreamer awoke, chased from that Dream World by the harsh calls of a Raven’s beak. Last night, the Raven’s form had taken the shape of the one-eyed Raven that had once followed her, his call loud despite his shut beak. She wondered if it had been his voice also that had chased her from her Dreams, but the familiarity and the memory of such a thing faded with her opening eyes. She knew not of the whereabouts of that nameless bird, that pied Raven that had been the epitome of her Dream. When she found the bird, she would kill it. That she knew. The betrayal of that creature was not one that she would tolerate. While no words had been spoke of such a thing, she knew that it had been the Raven that had so acutely allowed her father to do what he had done and to know what he had known. Absently, the woman’s hand strayed near that intimate place, those woad bound fingers gently crossing over the branded Darkness upon that inner left thigh. Only the Raven, aside from Onus and herself, could have known such a thing.
The woman rose with relative ease, though she still required the aid of the tree. The pain within her leg was less severe that day, as if the wound understood and remembered movement, as if the wound were willing to relent to her will. Having risen to her full height, her left hand holding gently her pregnant belly, the woman’s eyes turned toward the tree. She thanked the tree as she did every morning, grateful for its watchful diligence. Even then, with the rain falling persistently with that breathtaking melody, the tree’s full canopy had kept much of the moisture from her body, which demanded warmth. It was strange, she thought suddenly, to wake each morning alone.... She did not deny that there was a quiet ache within her for his company.
The white orbs fell finally upon the Raven Spear that lay quietly against the tree, whispering to her through the song of the rain. The woad warrior considered it, wondering if she should go out to the boarders today. Despite her wounds and despite her pregnant state, the woman was far from vulnerable. And with a spear, she believed that she could ward off any threat that may show up upon her boarders. Of course, she would only stay out for several hours. It would be unwise for her to push the limits of her body’s endurance. It would be dangerous, even if she should be alone. The Demon’s Trail would not be traversed by the black fae until she had birthed the litter. With her encumbered body, there was no grantee that she could navigate that treacherous place with ease. If she clung to the southern boarder, her outing would be better served.
Although she had risen with the hidden sun, her progress was slowed by her somewhat fluid limp. The woman, however, did not use the Spear’s shaft to aid her progress, for such use of a weapon would be disrespectful. Instead, the blade of the Raven Spear bit the sky with its angled elevation, the song singing hungrily through the female’s soul. Shattered Coast began to unfurl alongside her, the white orbs flickering across a terrain she had traveled often. She paused, emerging from the trees and for a moment able to enjoy the simplicity of life, allowing her Dream to be forgotten and the troubles and her longings held at bay.