09-18-2009, 10:45 AM
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500+
What was spoken by the golden coyote reminded her of Onus. And yet, for her lover, such a thing did not come after death but in life. An imperceptible nod was given. It was as it should be, she supposed. It was not unlike her own beliefs, although she believed that the manner of salvation and punishment were different. The shades of those that remained upon earth, unable to return to eternal rest in the halls of those long past, was what awaited those that held ill intent within them. It made her wary that Corvus had been killed and was dead, for would his spirit not linger upon the earth? She had felt his black touch in the hours of waking, so real as to incite a response within her that was just as black. Her soul required a purging to clear away the black soot that touched her soul like inescapable tar, but her body needed but a moon of patience, and her Dreams called for such a thing also.
And so it was revealed to her that Ezekiel was leaving, and that it was not a simple departure but a farewell. The black fae did not know if they would meet again, but she supposed that such a thing would occur, for she had promised him that, someday, he would meet her children. The black fae did not lie, and she did not believe that Fate or the Morrigan would move her to lie also. One day, he would return, and he would meet them. When that was and whether she would still exist physical upon his return was not known, for she made no promise in that respect and would not make such a promise. A soft smile moved danced upon her maw as the moonlight and the sunlight dances upon the surface of a calm, forest pool. She did not move to stop him from leaving, nor did she offer words that indicated that she would miss his presence. It seemed as if his path would take him in his search for his sister, and she would not stop him. "Then you must go," the soft melody replied once the silence had grown still. And the Raven Dreamer believed that he had been trained enough to survive. It was understood that she was not his only trainer.
The black fae moved forward, closing the distance between them. The fluidity of the sinew beneath the woad-marked coat grew still when she could feel the warmth of his breath upon her maw. The wolf extended her muzzle, brushing him lightly upon the shoulder, her touch as the memory of a Dream, or the shade of one passed that had come hauntingly. It was the greeting that she had made when they had first met, a greeting of trust, her throat exposed and vulnerable for the moments of that touch. She held that touch for a moment longer before lifting it from him, her paws caring her back as the distance was made once more. "Ge cruaidh sgarachdainn, cha robh dithis gun dealachadh." The alto melody sang in the language of her place of birth as the tranquility moved like light through those white eyes. This parting was not difficult, but the words were offered nevertheless regardless of the language. She knew that the golden boy did not hear the songs of words and the world as she did, but it was what she could offer him. "May you find her," she sang formally, and dipped her woad bound maw.
500+
What was spoken by the golden coyote reminded her of Onus. And yet, for her lover, such a thing did not come after death but in life. An imperceptible nod was given. It was as it should be, she supposed. It was not unlike her own beliefs, although she believed that the manner of salvation and punishment were different. The shades of those that remained upon earth, unable to return to eternal rest in the halls of those long past, was what awaited those that held ill intent within them. It made her wary that Corvus had been killed and was dead, for would his spirit not linger upon the earth? She had felt his black touch in the hours of waking, so real as to incite a response within her that was just as black. Her soul required a purging to clear away the black soot that touched her soul like inescapable tar, but her body needed but a moon of patience, and her Dreams called for such a thing also.
And so it was revealed to her that Ezekiel was leaving, and that it was not a simple departure but a farewell. The black fae did not know if they would meet again, but she supposed that such a thing would occur, for she had promised him that, someday, he would meet her children. The black fae did not lie, and she did not believe that Fate or the Morrigan would move her to lie also. One day, he would return, and he would meet them. When that was and whether she would still exist physical upon his return was not known, for she made no promise in that respect and would not make such a promise. A soft smile moved danced upon her maw as the moonlight and the sunlight dances upon the surface of a calm, forest pool. She did not move to stop him from leaving, nor did she offer words that indicated that she would miss his presence. It seemed as if his path would take him in his search for his sister, and she would not stop him. "Then you must go," the soft melody replied once the silence had grown still. And the Raven Dreamer believed that he had been trained enough to survive. It was understood that she was not his only trainer.
The black fae moved forward, closing the distance between them. The fluidity of the sinew beneath the woad-marked coat grew still when she could feel the warmth of his breath upon her maw. The wolf extended her muzzle, brushing him lightly upon the shoulder, her touch as the memory of a Dream, or the shade of one passed that had come hauntingly. It was the greeting that she had made when they had first met, a greeting of trust, her throat exposed and vulnerable for the moments of that touch. She held that touch for a moment longer before lifting it from him, her paws caring her back as the distance was made once more. "Ge cruaidh sgarachdainn, cha robh dithis gun dealachadh." The alto melody sang in the language of her place of birth as the tranquility moved like light through those white eyes. This parting was not difficult, but the words were offered nevertheless regardless of the language. She knew that the golden boy did not hear the songs of words and the world as she did, but it was what she could offer him. "May you find her," she sang formally, and dipped her woad bound maw.