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Ethereal Eclipse
Aside from cities, dense forests were the places that the vigilante most preferred. They gave him plenty of cover and he liked to travel high when possible. Most people didn't think about being followed from above. They didn't check the far up branches of trees for pursuers. Though today he wasn't following anyone. He had just come here to train and exercise. He could have easily done it back in Halifax, but he liked to train in different environments. His battles didn't take place either solely in cities or solely in nature. Preparedness was something the man took incredibly seriously.
The masked coyote stripped off his other effects, hanging them on one of the lower branches of a smaller tree. When he got to working on battle techniques and flexibility he would re-don his clothes, but he was just warming up right now. Since he always wore his coat, hat, and now scarf, he trained in them as well. Someone unused to wearing such things would find them clumsy in physical situations, but to Onus they were a second skin. He could move around in them just as well as he could without. The cloth was still tied around his eyes as it always was as he dropped to the ground and began doing one-armed push-ups. Many of his opponents were larger than him, so he always made sure he was as strong as he could possibly be to make up for the size difference. Agility was also his ally.
After his push-ups were complete he started a circular jog through the trees. This forest being as thick as it was was ideal for working on dodging and quick footwork. Once a good amount of rounds were complete he immediately started up the trees, climbing to a fair height. From there he began to jump from limb to limb in the same circuit he had worked on the ground. He utilized both his arms and legs for working his way around the canopy. Then after leaping onto a lower branch he jumped to the ground as gracefully as a cat. Standing up he stretched out his limbs and then walked over to the smaller tree to retrieve his belongings and continue the exercise clothed.
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700+
Her breathing was slightly labored from her recently finished self-training, and it rose in pale clouds. As the light fell dying from the world, the female beheld the spectacle with curious white eyes. There was nothing so quite like nature and its phenomena that could take her breath away, she always thought. It did so now, just as it did every morning and every night. Every snowfall and rainfall. The song of the world was louder then, and she could here it. She listened now, closing her eyes, and she heard the song soften as the sun disappeared behind the horizon. With only slight disappointment, the female opened her eyes to behold the twilight. But all good things must end. Then, like a shadow, with the power of an ancient warrior, the blue-marked female had leapt from the tree. She landed with the grace that seemed to transcend her form, yet she was not silent; a whisper of a passing she did leave, but silence was not her end. As the rear paws touched the earth, she propelled her body, crossing the boarder of her pack and falling into the lands of Ethereal Eclipse.
She could not recall the moment in which she had shifted, but she had. And she held the Raven Spear in her hand as the one-eyed pied Raven himself trailed far above. His form disappeared as she slipped into the forest, but she knew that he would be there when she resurfaced. The woods here were older, denser, and the cool, damp air threatened to penetrate through her thick black coat, especially in the autumn night. The heavens above were obscured, but night vision had taken over, and she took on a brusque trot. Here, there was no hint of passing save for a shadowed movement and a relinquished scent. The tenebrous atmosphere was strange to her, yet its newness was pleasant, and her maw met the plants here and there in greeting. Here, the darkness was a song she heard. So indulged was she in her adventure that she nearly fell over the precipice that opened with gaping jaws. With a curt bark, she leapt at the last moment over the trench to safety. The air of the trench was disturbing to her, for it moved languidly and with a gelid quality that crept into the bones. Shaking the feeling off, the lone female moved on.
But then something sounded in the dark. A thud. It was distant and barely discernable from the whisper of the trees, but the acute ears of the warrior had caught it just as it faded in the air. She paused, listening for it again, but there was nothing. Still, the curious nature of the woad-marked warrior could not dismiss such a thing, and she continued on her way. Now, with silence on her feet, the ebony woman trotted in the dark, her spear’s blade, dull in the shadow, piercing the darkness with a savage hunger. The woad banded ears were pushed forward, trying to catch that strange sound once more, but she did not hear it again. And yet...she caught a scent on the cold, damp air of the woods. It was coyote, and a low growl tickled her throat. But as the scent grew stronger, the warrior realized that it did not hold the stench of Inferni. The black fae was curious now, and she continued to search for this creature.
And it was not long before she found him. Through the trees, in the distance, she saw a coyote. He was a strange creature, wearing a hat a coat. But the most curious part was the cloth that bound his eyes. But, she did not make the mistake of believing him to be blind, for she did not fail to notice that he made his way about with ease. He seemed to be participating in some sort of training, much like the one which she had only just completed herself. This final observation peaked her interest, and the female stepped into clear view, placing the spear upon the ground with a strange and perhaps misplaced finality. "Who are you?" the clear alto rang clearly in the silence. The white orbs beheld the place where the other’s eyes should be, and she showed to him the challenge that she so keenly felt. And yet, strangely, there was no open hostility. She was merely curious. She merely wished to test him.
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My posts will not be as long and pretty as your's ^^;
As Onus buttoned up his coat he knew that he was no longer alone in the woods. He made no outward show of this knowledge. He preferred to know things and then respond to them later on. If this was someone he needed to deal with it would give them a false sense of having caught him unawares. The man always did everything he could to gain the upper hand in combat situations. With all of his experience though, most times it was no difficult. He had to admit that most of the fights he had had around here had been against worthy opponents. The ratio of skilled combatants here was higher than it was in the cities.
As the loud wooden "thunk" resonated throughout the clearing he remained still. He spent a few seconds meticulously adjusting his scarf and then finally turned to face the woman who had questioned him. It took a lot for him to look at someone else and find them intriguingly unique, but there was no doubt that she was. Peculiar blue markings covered much of her midnight coat. Though the thing that caught his attention the most were her pure white eyes. Never before had Onus met anyone with oculars that were in any way similar to his hidden ones. Behind the cloth were two deep pools of obsidian. It was those eyes that had gained him his first name and his mother's fear.
The coyote looked at her, sensing a willingness to fight in her. Though it was strange, there was no hostility in her vibe. That was strange to the man. When he fought he fought with reason and purpose. He had never done it just for the thrill of it. "I am someone who fights injustice." It was the most honest answer he could give. The loner wasn't one for name exchanging unless he thought there was some kind of purpose to it. He especially never gave his name first. The male made no other moves, just watched this banded wolf before him.
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That’s okay—I don’t mind at all! I just like to ramble sometimes, ^=^;;
500+
Cwmfen nic Graine was not fond of coyotes. She knew that the troublesome creatures mostly hailed from Inferni, and she knew that this male was not of that clan. She knew also that not all coyotes were creatures of chao. But there was some innate instinct that bid her to become intolerant with these creatures. And yet, there was something about this creature that struck her curiosity, and she was inclined to investigate further into who this creature was.
He mad her wait, and a slight, knowing smirk tickled the woad-marked woman’s lips. The white orbs held their steady gaze, and she waited with persistent patience. When he finally turned to face her, she noticed once more his bound eyes. Had she known that the eyes beneath were black as the pits of hell, she may have been afraid. Her father’s eyes were such a shade—a shade hinting at absence, of oblivion. Her father’s eyes held the darkness that his soul held, held the emptiness that was his heart. And had she known that the coy’s eyes were black, she may have wondered why they were black, if he had hate in his heart, and if he had that emptiness that craved to kill not only the body but the soul. She would have changed her intentions. She may have killed him—or tried. But of the coyote’s ink black eyes she did not know, and so she did not wonder these things. And so she was not afraid.
In his reply he did not give a name. And yet the female had not expected it of him. Nor did she require it. The woad warrior shifted her weight as her blue tipped tail flickered behind her. "You serve Justice then?" Her alto voice lifted in the cold, crisp air, but the melody did not hold its usual sweet quality. Her inquiry was rhetorical, and it was made clear that she did not require an answer. This fact, however, was not what she had expected. The impression that this strangely clad coy made upon her was a good one. At least it told her enough to know that he was not like those other creatures he claimed to fight against. And she sensed no treachery in his words.
With a slight nod the female said, "How well do you serve Her, City-Knight?" and taking up her spear her posture changed. Perhaps if he hailed from some neighboring pack, the Warrior of Dahlia de Mai would have exercised less freedom of action. But because this blindfolded male was a loner, she felt a little freer in her choice of action. She would, of course, not push this game too far, but she needed a little action. She needed to test her skills, to see what her training had done. And she wanted to see what this male could do. With a fierce smile, the female challenged, "Let’s see what you can do." There was no doubt of what her intentions were, and she retained that strangely benign aura about her. She just wanted to have a little fun.
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From her tone it was clear that her next question was not one meant to be answered. Which was best in his opinion. He was not pleased when people questioned his life's work. Just because most were too afraid or too weak to pursue the type of life that he lead didn't make his choices any less valid or sane. In fact, he thought that they made him more sane than anything. He didn't search for the answers to questions about the meaning of life. About what his supposed "purpose" on the earth was. Because he already knew. He had known for years.
Onus watched her with interest as she changed her posture and position. City-Knight? Well, that was a phrase he had never been called before. He had to admit he kind of liked it. Most of the times the names he was called were more along the lines of "creep", "crazy", or "psychopath". This was much more true to what he was, he felt. "I've served her to the best of my ability. All my life." Maybe that question hadn't required an answer either, but he had wanted to give it. The coy took pride in his life and his cause. He did his best to serve the cause of justice and would continue to do so until he drew his last breath.
After her challenge he remained still. Honestly he wasn't sure what to do. The vigilante had never before been in a fight that hadn't had a purpose. He fought criminals, killing them if it were necessary. There was no desire to hurt the woman before him. To his knowledge she had done nothing wrong. He had heard of sparring, but had never taken a part in it. Perhaps this is what she wanted. Just a test of skills from one fighter to another. For a split-second a small grin was on his lips, but it was gone as quick as it had appeared. "Very well." Then with the speed of a striking cobra he took off to the side of the clearing, intent to come at her from the side.
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I’ll make my posts shorter for the spar, ^=^
300+
The wolf had nodded. She did not doubt that his answer would have been so. And she wanted to know how true to his word he was. The fae wondered then at his last phrase. All my life, he had said. So, this business of justice was a career. And what better one? But she did not understand. She did not understand whether he was in it for the fight or the satisfaction of purging the world of its darkness. Or perhaps it was both. That was something that the warrior could understand, for she fought for the thrill and love of war. But she worked to protect her pack, and to protect those who could not protect themselves. It was not the same as what his coy claimed to do, however. And she knew it.
He seemed to hesitate, but it was not out of fear; she doubted that she would ever instill fear into another. No, he seemed to be considering her silent offer, but, if he chose to be still, she would not let him escape her offer. The black fea realized that, as a fighter for Justice, he would not be moved. But perhaps he would recognize the harmlessness of her request.
She was not disappointed.
He was quick—quicker than she had expected him to be, especially with that coat he wore. But the female was quick too. The female waited until he was close before acting. Using her spear for leverage (the male was far heavier than she, and she knew how to use what she had to her advantage), she planted her spear into the hard earth. Then, back-turning, her leg shot out in a back-kick, perfectly executed, that aimed for his solar plexus. The white orbs met the space where the coy’s eyes should have been while she released the spear staff and simultaneously brought her leg up in a crescent-kick to the head. She was flexible and would reach it with ease, even from their touching proximity.
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Ok! And some PP, let me know if you want any of it changed!
Speed was one of his greatest assets. He had trained himself to be able to turn directions at breakneck speed on a dime. Since his size could at times be a disadvantage he made up for it with whatever he could. Considering he was still alive it must work. So when he saw her use the spear to throw out a kick he let his body fall to the ground and let his momentum keep him moving. While he had been quick, so had she, so she had managed to hit part of his jaw. A dull pain was there but nothing more.
Weapons were something he only used in extreme circumstances. Onus had never, nor would he ever carry one. If necessary he would improvise one but he preferred hand to hand combat. So as he slid under her he grabbed onto her spear (which she had now released her grip on), and planted his heels into the soft ground. Standing up he plucked the spear from the ground and threw it off to the side. The coyote then turned to face her, waiting for her next move. Since this was not a serious fight he was not being as relentless as he otherwise would be.
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Nope, it’s all fine, ^=^
300+
Her first kick had been in vain. Only the air had been moved by the finality of that stroke, and the emptiness there was dissatisfying. Yet, in that second kick, her need for martial contact had been satisfied. She had struck something relatively small—his jaw perhaps—and the white orbs quickly looked past her own leg as she kicked him to make sure that it had not been too hard. But he seemed unperturbed by the contact, and so she was content. After all, she did not mean to harm him. This was only a test. Or was it merely fun?
As he took her spear, the she-wolf backed off, allowing for space. Normally, she would already be in with the attack, but that was not her intent. The white orbs flickered briefly over the spear, assuring its wellbeing, before she turned her fierce gaze back to the coy. The spear she hardly used—it was mostly a symbol of her Dream, the Raven. And, as if on cue, the one-eyed Raven who flew impatiently overhead crawed. Then she ran at him, throwing a low roundhouse, then a high immediately. Then, turning, she leapt up and threw him a three-sixty degree high kick.
She knew it was dangerous to turn her back, especially when her opponent knew how to fight, but this spar was somewhat controlled, and she did not feel the need to exercise caution to such an extent. But, as she gave this kick, she let out a cry. The purpose of this cry was to give her the strength mental power to successfully execute the maneuver, but it was also to intimidate. And, while she doubted that the other would be intimidated, perhaps it would distract him, for such a cry was pulled from the pit of her being and it clapped like thunder in the silence.
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Sorry for the wait! And I love your new signature <3
He had to admit, as of this far he was impressed with her skill and control. The coy hadn't fought many females. Most of his fights had been against males. The other sex had a different way of doing things he had noticed though. Their movements were more fluid and more poetic. Certainly no one would accuse him of such traits. It was clear she had been trained in this. Onus had never had any formal training. All of his moves and techniques he had learned over the years. That wasn't to say that either of their abilities were somehow lesser though.
He jumped in the air to avoid her first kick and then leaned back to miss the second. He had learned to be good a dodging blows. If he hadn't he would have been in much worse shape than he was. The man was no youngster anymore but he was in better shape than most his age, somewhat ironically. Her last kick glanced off of his shoulder, he barely even felt it. While her cry was loud and there was no way to miss it, it didn't phase him in the slightest. Loud noises during battles were just white noise to him. Reacting to such sounds would lead to jumpiness and if you were jumpy it was game over.
Seeing a good opportunity with her back turned he swiftly closed the distance between them. Arms shot out attempting to go under her arms and then wrap around the back of her neck. If this lock succeeded he would then try and use his feet to knock her legs out from under her and bring her to the ground.
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Hahah~ Thanks, OuO
Should we end the spar within the next few posts?
300+
He was quick, just as he had been before. He seemed tireless, but then, he, just as she, was used to such activities, and a little spar such as this would hardly phase them. The coy dodged every kick she threw. The sound of the air moving to fill that space she had cut whispered as she moved, and it was this, a part of that song of war, that she loved most. It was disrupted only by the slight contact with his shoulder, but such contact was irrelevant. She was not surprised when he was indifferent to her cry, it only told her something about him. But she was having fun, she found, for it had been too long—or what seemed like too long to her—since she had been able to move like this with another.
And she would have been disappointed had he not taken advantage of the vulnerable position in which she had placed herself. The blindfolded coy closed that distance between them with characteristic speed, and the female heard the air whisper as he locked her in his grip. He was close enough for her to feel him against her, and that was too close for her. Her arms were smaller than his, and she was quick too. The female pushed her shoulders together and slipped from his grip, but to free herself she had sacrificed her footing. She felt his feet take her balance, and her body twisted about like that of a cat as she landed on her back, hitting the ground with the palms of her hands to absorb the shock.
As the woad warrior fell, she brought her legs up in a crescent kick to catch him should he bring his body to follow her. If he did not, she would allow the crescent to follow through before whipping it back across the ground to try to take his footing. The wolf, however, made no attempt to rise from the earth yet.
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Yeah, that sounds good! 
This was somewhat enjoyable, the coy had to admit. Though it was a different dance than what he was used to. Usually he would be ripping with his claws and using all his strength and skill to bring his opponent to the ground. Here he had to be careful and even more controlled. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt the woman and have this game turn into something much darker. While he enjoyed what he did, he didn't do it without direction or purpose. He only brought harm and pain to those that inflicted it on others. It was a line that he could never, and would never cross.
Dexterously she slipped from his arm-lock, but his move had not been in complete vain. He had caused her to lose her balance and fall to the ground. Even that she did with grace however, turning herself and taking the brunt of the force on her hands instead of her back. Which also meant that she would be prepared to strike out with her kicks again, so he prepared himself for what she was surely about to throw at him.
The male was not disappointed as her legs struck out in an arch, most likely in the occasion he had dived after her to the ground, which he had not. As soon as she realized this she would probably try and take his feet out from under him so he jumped over her. As soon as his paws hit the ground again he spun on them to be facing her. Crouched form reached out to attempt to use his hands to hold her arms to the ground.
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^=^; I hope you don’t mind a little powerplay here...
500+
Once again the coy had succeeded in evading her attacks. The crescent kick had found nothing, just as her low, sweeping strike had made only the air move. The smile of that strange and wild delight danced upon her lips, and she was moved to find a way with which to satisfy her body’s need for that martial contact—just as every body desired when engaged in such activities. He jumped over her, and the white orbs watched his strangely clothed form pass by. She found herself moving automatically, as if his movement had invoked a response within her. Perhaps it was the primitive instinct to protect her belly and throat, the soft undersides that were so vulnerable to the hungry jaws and claws of the attacker. And though she knew that he was not going to kill her, the mind moved the body to react before she could think not too. And her mind did not have time for such thoughts, for the conscious was purely focused upon the blindfolded creature with whom she was engaged.
As the blindfolded coy turned back to face her, the female too had completed the twist to roll onto her belly. The white orbs were unblinking as they watched, for she knew, especially with this opponent, that in a blink of an eye, too many things could happen. And he was quick. He was moving back to her so quickly, but her was crouched now to grab at her arms that supported her. Pushing against the earth, the female freed herself of dependency upon them, propelling herself as she did so with her legs to his throat. A snarl sounded in her throat as her jaws opened to embrace his scarf covered throat (and at that angle, her throat was exposed to him as well, and she knew this). But at the last minute, she thrust her hands back onto the earth, halting herself and ceasing all movement. The momentum carried her forward, allowing her strong teeth to brush against the fur on his lower jaw and the fabric of his scarf. But they did not cut, and she was not viscous but gentle. As the warrior pulled back, her jaws closed with an audible snap on the empty air, and it was clear that she had ended their game.
Sitting back on her heels and kneeling, the female was silent for a moment, that feral smile expressing her pleasure to the coy. "You serve her well, City-Knight," the alto voice sang in the nighttime silence. She knew that the other did not require her approval, and she knew that the other knew of his skill. Nevertheless, perhaps more on her own behalf, she had tested his skill, and an assessment of such skill was necessary—or so she felt. The female rose, and as she did so, the pied Raven swept silently in through the thick boughs of the trees, landing near her fallen spear. The warrior did not yet heed her Dream. Instead, she offered her hand to the male. She knew, also, that he did not need her help, but it was more a symbol of her acceptance of his presence. To not take it would be a mistake.
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s'all good!
What happened next he had not predicted. If this had been a real fight he would have, and he would have never put himself in that particular position. Instinct quickly took over and his lips curled up revealed bleached fangs. A deep growl rumbled in his chest as her jaws closed in on his throat. One hand shot out to her own exposed neck, claws brushing against the fur and he could easily feel her pulse beneath his fingertips. One small move from either of them and both would be dead. All she had to do was clamp down her jaws and all he had to do was nick open that one all precious artery with his black claws.
Thankfully neither happened. As she drew her open mouth back from him he in turn removed his hand from her. Adrenaline had seeped into his system and he was hyper-aware of everything around. Ready to react at a moment's notice if things took a turn towards the sinister again. But as the marked female peacefully sat there and then complimented him he knew that no such precautions were necessary. Slightly he nodded his head. "Whoever you serve is well endowed." Onus wasn't one to dole out compliments and was no expert at polite conversation. He knew enough though, and he truly had been impressed with the female's skill.
When she offered him her hand he hesitated a moment. The man wasn't used to accepting such help from anyone. He was self-reliant and liked it that way. However, it occurred to him that she was no pompous fool. It was merely a gesture from one warrior to another. Taking her hand he stood up, the feeling of another's palm was strange to him. Any kind of touch but the touch of battle was foreign. His life had never had such luxuries.
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500+
The woad warrior nodded once at that given complement, accepting it graciously. "I serve Dahlia de Mai," the alto tones voiced. But she thought that he may have already guessed that from her scent. "It is perhaps not as noble a master as she whom you serve, but we are not all as devoted to such causes as you." The female did not pretend to be perfect, and she did not pretend to be pure and innocent. The mission of this strangely clad coy was of a noble cause, and Justice was a noble mistress. And the black fae did not deny that she held some respect for this creature. She wondered if he had met the coyotes and hybrids of Inferni. She herself had not yet had the pleasure of such an encounter, but she had heard enough of their habits—or at least the habits of particular individuals. Inferni had also been the enemy of Dahlia de Mai. And though she had only just missed the conflict when she had joined the pack those months ago, the Head Warrior knew when to be wary of others.
When he took her hand, she smiled. The black warrior was glad that the blind folded coyote had taken her hand. But he had hesitated, and she wondered why. Perhaps he had been considering whether it would be decent to take her hand, or perhaps he had not practiced such a gesture often. Yet, because he had, in the end, not disrespected her by completing the gesture, she set those thoughts aside. Releasing the grip, she watched the place where his eyes would be for several moments longer with a calculating gaze, thoughtful and curious. Then, in her comfortable silence, she turned away from the stranger. Finally, she turned her gaze towards the Raven, considering her Dream with ambiguous intent. She both hated and loved that creature, but she did not feel the same toward the Dream itself, which only held good intentions. And she felt keenly now that this Raven was not the epitome of her Dream, but she knew not what else it would be. Sighing, she knelt to retrieve the fallen Spear.
As the black, woad marked warrior rose, the Raven crawed and flew up to rest upon the arm that held the weapon. It was its usual spot and did not ask permission to take it, but the wolf never rejected him. The one eye of the Raven turned to behold the coyote as the female returned to stand before him. And suddenly, the Raven lept from her, gliding to a nearby tree. But his caws of protest were unheeded as the female considered the male. "What manner of soul hides beneath that veil?" the female questioned quietly, almost inaudibly. Then, hoping that she was not too bold, her left hand rose slowly, the woad banded fingers seeking his face and the cloth that bound his eyes. Her touch was tentative, and she lingered there, silently seeking his permission to continue. The white eyes were locked upon the place where his eyes would be, and her gaze held no challenge. Only an unanswered question.
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He's feeling some inkling of emotion? What is this nonsense! XD
It wasn't until now and at her words that the place the scent belonged to clicked in his head. It was the same smell that the despicable brown scum had carried on his pelt. He had to suppress letting his lips reveal his teeth at the thought. His memory of the encounter wasn't as clear as it usually was, but that was because the creature had had the audacity to remove his eye covering. Once that had happened the coyote had snapped. No one, no one, was allowed to do such a thing. In response he only nodded his head. He couldn't understand why someone such as herself would associate with a waste of flesh like him. Most likely she knew not what he really was. There were no qualms with her so silence was the best path.
When she turned and looked at the bird that had landed near her spear the man also looked. Strange. On very few occasions had he met canines that had such companions follow them. It was of course against the natural order of things, but it was neither right nor wrong, so he didn't concern himself with such matters. The banded female retrieved her weapon and avian and then returned to stand before him. Apparently her companion was not so pleased as he loudly protested and flew up into the branches above. He watched the bird for a moment before her words brought his attention back to her.
As her hand reached up to touch his face where his eye wrap was his own went up to hold her hand to stop her from removing it. In most situations his grip would have been rough and a resentment would have began to rise in his stomach. But now his touch was gentle, only making sure that she didn't try to remove the cloth. When he spoke, while it was still the monotone it always was, there was more emotion behind it than had been in years. "It is more fitting to me than what lies beneath. You should not wish to see it." Those eyes had earned his mother's loathing and fear. Had caused her to beat him within an inch of his life when he was but a pup. While he would remove his other clothes, he never removed the cloth.
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n___n
500+
Cwmfen was close. Perhaps too close. Perhaps she should have felt a danger in such proximity, especially since she had only just tested his skill and knew now of what he was capable in the least. But she was not afraid because she knew that this creature had control. And while creatures with control were more terrible to behold when the temper was lost, she did not feel that this coy was that sort of creature. He was a servant of Justice, and he killed in her name. But he was most definitely not like those he killed, and so she was not afraid. And she new that he was not afraid of her, but, because she did not serve and enforce with will of Justice, that was not her purpose. And perhaps that was not his purpose. But she could not know. All she knew was what she saw and what he allowed to be seen.
And somehow, she knew that he would not allow her to see what was beneath that cloth. And why should he grant her access? They had only just met, and while they both displayed amiable demeanors, who knew what truly lay beneath their displays. And perhaps there was no disguise. Or, perhaps beneath their shells of honor there was a flaw, a character flaw that would eventually lead to their downfall. Hamartia. A light smile played across her maw as his fingers gripped her wrist, her pulse beating beneath his grasp just as it had done at the end of their spar, and her neck tickled where his touch had brushed her. Her fingers lingered at the lip of the cloth, her claws brushing against his face as if considering defying his gentle objection. But instead, they recoiled, and she slowly pulled her self from his grasp and let the hand fall to her side in silent acceptance. The clear white orbs lingered on his collar bone, but saw some other distant thought.
Her gaze lifted as he spoke, and she heard something lingering in her voice but could not recognize it. She was silent for a moment, puzzling over the meaning of his words. "Forgive me," the black warrior said at length. "It was not my place." But she wondered still what lay beneath that white cloth that so moved him to conceal it. The coy saw the world clearly through that blindfold, and yet the world was blind to him. It was ironic, perhaps. Finally, the she wolf stepped away from him, allowing the cool air to fill that space between them. Perhaps that was all this encounter would hold for them. She had seen what he could do, and for now, at least, her curiosity was satisfied. She made to leave, but did not turn her back to him, as if it were some ancient gesture of respect. "My name is Cwmfen nic Graine," she said into the silence, gifting him her name. "Should you require aid in your vigil, I will give it willingly." And yet, she somehow doubted that he would require it.
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Sorry for the wait :x but we should definitely have another thread with these two in the future. I love the effect she has on him XD
It was a moment filled with a tension that he did not ever recall feeling before. It was different from that of battle. Part of him almost wanted to take off the wrap so she could see what lay beneath. But those that saw his eyes could never forget them. Dark, ominous pools without another hint of color. They were black holes into which all light was sucked. For some reason he found himself not wanting to risk losing this woman's respect. She understood him better than most. In a way that was a kind of gift to him. She did not mock him. Did not think he was a liar. From the start it had been an encounter of mutual respect between two warriors. It was one of the most pleasant experiences he had ever had. The closest he had come to feeling anything for anyone.
As her wrist slipped through his fingers he let his hand fall to his side as well. At her request for forgiveness he nodded. Suddenly he felt vulnerable, though not in a physical sense. She was digging up things in him that he thought had died years before. It made him uncomfortable. He didn't know how to deal with such things. Though his demeanor and body language didn't change. The marked wolf would have no real idea what was flying through the coyote's mind. Cwmfen nic Graine. A name as mysterious and unique as it's holder. "I am Onus." He gave her his title without any hesitation. While to most it would be a trifle to give someone their name, to him it was an honor to bestow it on another. "Thank you. I reside in the city. Should you have reason to find me." Onus needed no one's help, but he would not be opposed to her company.
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