09-09-2009, 06:40 AM
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http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v515/ ... enaban.jpg); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;">All good! I'm sure I'll be the same after tomorrow. D:
The hybrid would have loved the idea of valuing woman as mothers above all else—she was hardly a feminist, but the way Haku had spoken to her, spitting the word woman as if it was a curse... that had kicked something alive inside of her, and it had given her much to churn over in the weeks she'd been recovering from her vicious encounter with him. Women were capable of granting the world with children—men helped, yes, but it was the woman who held them in her belly, it was the woman who was graced with the ability to feed these children from her body. Men could do neither; they simply donated some gooey junk that held half a child, but played little part in children beyond that.
The hybrid woman would have to discuss the issue of bringing foreign canines into the coyote lands sooner or later; she knew some were welcome to come there at any time, such as Fatin, but others—she did not know. The hybrid had rarely been confounded with the issue of wolves wanting to visit the famed vicious coyotes. The red wolf before her looked rather regal to her, with the myriad of feathers and other adornments about his mane. She studied them for a moment, wondering if they were a symbol of anything, or if they were merely decor. She was not a particularly large fan of decoration—her own items were simple and they stood for something. The star across her chest was a symbol of the Lykoi family, hand-picked by the coyote matron herself. The necklace was the thing she had saved from Astaroth, and it meant she had lost Eris and killed the Kimaris man in the process. It was a symbol of loss, more than anything—and she wished now that she had Salvaged Eternity's tooth to wear beside it.
The red wolf commiserated with her. The coyote's lands had turned into a swampy mess as of late, and she was rather tired of it already. "Doesn't make for a good winter, but at least you don't have to worry about drowning in snow," she said rather lightly. In truth, the silvery coyote would have liked a cold winter. She had not experienced one in two years, and she had found in the southern parts of the world that was what she missed more than anything. Snow, and cold, and ice. There was nothing quite like a Canadian winter. The coyote woman listened intently again as he spoke, turning the words over in her head. It was a good standby, and it sounded quite familiar to the Inferni way of thinking. They were Inferni coyotes together, bound in many cases by blood—though that did not necessary exclude outsiders from their sense of oneness.
The coyote was quiet for a moment, and a very thoughtful look came to her face. She was impressed by that speech, to be certain—she often felt as though Inferni and Lykoi were pretty much synonymous terms, though there were other powerful families in their midst, to be sure. The clan is my family, she thought to herself—it was a fitting enough motto, and true in many cases. She had thought of the coyote clan as something of her own child for a very long time now, perhaps since crafting it on the beach that night with Yasu Zarah. "You have a good way of thinking, Dawali. I can only say Inferni is similar—we might have our minor differences, but at the core, we are the same," the coyote responded.
"We aren't the best of souls, hardly. Some of us are damaged goods, but even the worst of us follow the Aquila's word. If Gabriel says we are to be peaceful to you, we are," she said. There was no blind loyalty in Inferni, to be sure—even so, the coyotes were very much in tune with each other, and most of them knew a good thing when they saw it. Allies were better to have than enemies. The coyote woman looked over toward the russet-colored canine again, and offered a smile. There was no terseness or awkwardness in it, only the twisting of the scars that crossed her face.
Table thanks to Erin!The hybrid would have loved the idea of valuing woman as mothers above all else—she was hardly a feminist, but the way Haku had spoken to her, spitting the word woman as if it was a curse... that had kicked something alive inside of her, and it had given her much to churn over in the weeks she'd been recovering from her vicious encounter with him. Women were capable of granting the world with children—men helped, yes, but it was the woman who held them in her belly, it was the woman who was graced with the ability to feed these children from her body. Men could do neither; they simply donated some gooey junk that held half a child, but played little part in children beyond that.
The hybrid woman would have to discuss the issue of bringing foreign canines into the coyote lands sooner or later; she knew some were welcome to come there at any time, such as Fatin, but others—she did not know. The hybrid had rarely been confounded with the issue of wolves wanting to visit the famed vicious coyotes. The red wolf before her looked rather regal to her, with the myriad of feathers and other adornments about his mane. She studied them for a moment, wondering if they were a symbol of anything, or if they were merely decor. She was not a particularly large fan of decoration—her own items were simple and they stood for something. The star across her chest was a symbol of the Lykoi family, hand-picked by the coyote matron herself. The necklace was the thing she had saved from Astaroth, and it meant she had lost Eris and killed the Kimaris man in the process. It was a symbol of loss, more than anything—and she wished now that she had Salvaged Eternity's tooth to wear beside it.
The red wolf commiserated with her. The coyote's lands had turned into a swampy mess as of late, and she was rather tired of it already. "Doesn't make for a good winter, but at least you don't have to worry about drowning in snow," she said rather lightly. In truth, the silvery coyote would have liked a cold winter. She had not experienced one in two years, and she had found in the southern parts of the world that was what she missed more than anything. Snow, and cold, and ice. There was nothing quite like a Canadian winter. The coyote woman listened intently again as he spoke, turning the words over in her head. It was a good standby, and it sounded quite familiar to the Inferni way of thinking. They were Inferni coyotes together, bound in many cases by blood—though that did not necessary exclude outsiders from their sense of oneness.
The coyote was quiet for a moment, and a very thoughtful look came to her face. She was impressed by that speech, to be certain—she often felt as though Inferni and Lykoi were pretty much synonymous terms, though there were other powerful families in their midst, to be sure. The clan is my family, she thought to herself—it was a fitting enough motto, and true in many cases. She had thought of the coyote clan as something of her own child for a very long time now, perhaps since crafting it on the beach that night with Yasu Zarah. "You have a good way of thinking, Dawali. I can only say Inferni is similar—we might have our minor differences, but at the core, we are the same," the coyote responded.
"We aren't the best of souls, hardly. Some of us are damaged goods, but even the worst of us follow the Aquila's word. If Gabriel says we are to be peaceful to you, we are," she said. There was no blind loyalty in Inferni, to be sure—even so, the coyotes were very much in tune with each other, and most of them knew a good thing when they saw it. Allies were better to have than enemies. The coyote woman looked over toward the russet-colored canine again, and offered a smile. There was no terseness or awkwardness in it, only the twisting of the scars that crossed her face.