08-16-2009, 12:13 PM
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yeah, i think the stairs go up but the words make it seem like they're going down, but it works xD I figured this would be a good poiont to wrap up, a good introduction for these two, and in the future we should do some kind of plot o: #$%@Were they opposites or compliments? Anselm lacked the fluidity of Air and Water; nay, he was better represented by Earth and Fire. The hybrid thrived upon stability and stood rock solid in his convictions, though occasionally something would shoot through him like wildfire. When significantly roused, he would deviate from the stability of Earth and continue with the passion and energy of flame. Though most of his good deeds went unsung, Anselm had stepped in to save almost as many as he had stepped in to kill. He would never stick out his neck too far for anybody else, but if it were "convenient" he wouldn't hesitate to assist--especially members of his own pack or flesh and blood. #$%@Her question surprised him, and his ears fell back uncertainly before gently flicking foreward once more. He had always assumed it was; the magnitudes were so great that it seemed unlikely somebody had had an accident. Were the lands drier on that side of the mountain that year to facilitate the spread of a wildfire? His brows furrowed and his forelimbs tensed, causing his thick nails to lightly puncture the moist earth beneath his feet. "I don't know," he said at length, completely unaware of how blissful his ignorance was. How would he react to the knowledge that it was his beloved Gabriel who'd laid waste to an entire empire, who had single-handedly sparked the exodus across Halcyon Mountain? Maybe some things were best left unknown. #$%@His head tipped lightly as he considered what the dark woman said next. For a moment he mentally stumbled--Anselm was too nihilistic to subscribe to any religion or other such malarkey, and he couldn't see any similarities. His were a reminder of something concrete and physical; hers were of something whimsical and (in his mind) fictional. But then, he took a moment longer, and he nodded in some dull form of agreement: witches, demons, ghosts, and gods aside, they may have reminded her of her mother, her home, and her culture. Whether or not their culture's beliefs were rooted in reality, they had produced a strong, capable woman who struck him as rather intelligent on the whole, so more power to them. Her reminder was no less valid. #$%@Needless to say, most of his anatomy lessons had come from the inherent dissecting that went on while eating prey. He had originally suspected eyes to be solid as well--though he had learned his lesson damn fast. It was unfortunate he'd started with something as ambitious as a deer's eye; when the gooey centre had coated the inside of his mouth, it was all he could do to keep from losing the rest of his meal. Maybe if he had started with a fish or frog's eye he'd have grown more accustomed to the peculiar texture and the very unsatisfying initial pop and burst, but he couldn't care less. There was plenty of nutrition elsewhere in the body of fallen prey, and at least he'd gained some strange insight into how the fluid-filled balls were formed. What was a guy to do? He had to at least try it once, right? Maybe this weird impulse had never struck her, though, and so he merely shrugged. #$%@His own mystery solved and his curiosity quenched, he felt the ground beneath his feet beginning to burn, urging him to move on so he could get back home. He could entertain one more question, though, perhaps. "Everything in Nature follows a pattern and natural laws; even the aberrations." When one understands these patterns, they may use them to their advantage. "This has been the only constant in my life. When something deviates, I need to discover the mechanism of the exception or understand if I should readjust my thinking if I'm wrong." It was a simple explanation, though he knew that most others wouldn't really see the point of it. Maybe she wouldn't either, but maybe she didn't need to. Anselm rarely cared for these philosophical discussions; he grew tired of justifying his own actions and thoughts to others. #$%@A smile, strange though not malicious, flitted upon his face as he rose lightly to his feet. He was strangely satisfied with this encounter, despite its peculiarities. "Maybe I'll see you around," he said simply; not here, not in Dahlia, and not in Inferni, but perhaps somewhere their paths would cross again. Next time he might not be as resistant; Anselm required time to digest the possibility of even casual acquaintances. She'd left an impression on him, though, and despite this being their one and only meeting, he was not likely to forget her any time soon. "Good luck," he offered, pointing his muzzle to her large stomach before trotting off quickly into the forest, dodging fallen limbs and spider webs as he went. table by Amber <3 |