Which maybe in the end became a song

[Soran Aatte]

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http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... table2.png);background-position:bottom;background-repeat:no-repeat;"> For Leland Do you mind if this is set on the 22nd? pushitinIt was getting late, the ebony fae had wandered around Crimson Dream's borders for a fair while now, patrolling them, but she had seen no one enter the lands, or anyone hovering at the borders and so she had wandered out into the lands further from Crimson Dreams, eager to explore. The lady had always been one for exploring the lands, she had had a perfect mental map of the old Bleeding Souls' lands contained within her head, and although she had never had a chance to write it down she would have been able to guide anyone anywhere within them, she had not yet gained that ability with these lands, there was too much that she had not yet seen, too much that was yet undiscovered for her. And so Soran walked, she had patrolled for long enough, now she wanted to see what lay beyond her homeland, to see who resided out here, what hunting grounds there were, what treaures and delights there were to be found out there. And so she walked, exploring merrily, her feet crunching a deep path into the snow that covered the ground. All around her the snow had begun to fall again in lazy flurries, being swept up and around by the chilled breeze as it fell. pushitinThe lady found a quiet spot underneath a tall tree, its boughs were laden with snow, but Soran chose to ignore the groaning of the branches and curled up at it's roots, sitting cross legged beneath it, her head resting upon the trunk. From the canvas satchel that seemed to be with her constantly nowadays she pulled the musical manuscript that she had been working on the previous evening and her flute. The chilled silver worried her, she knew that the instrument would not play well when it was this cold, and so she rubbed it between her hands as she read over what she had written the previous evening, the notes were hastily drawn and slightly blurred in places, but it was readable, she was rather proud of it if she was honest. Once she was satisfied that the flute was warm enough she raised it to her lips carefully, her eyes scanning the notes that she had written and slowly she began to play, her eyes scanning the manuscript as she played the notes carefully, she was rather proud of this tune. It reminded her of her children and grandchildren, the ebony lady missed them, even though she knew that her grandchildren were very close to her right now, simply a walk away, she missed them, she was surprised how easily she had found herself loving them, despite them reminding her of her lost son, who was so broken after what he had done to Naniko, another thing they unfortunately reminded her of. But it was not their fault at all, and she still loved them hopelessly and so she played the tune that she had written for them to herself, musing over what she could teach them, whether or not she could help them to grow and whether or not she was a better grandmother than the mother she had been.

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[Leland]

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OOC: Yup, the date is fine ^^



Increasingly Leland was becoming a homebody, leaving Aniwaya less and less as time went on. His last excursion out of the packlands had been all the way to Halifax, which was where his spiritual journey had become complete and he became whole– at least that was how Dawali would have put it. To Leland it mostly meant he had come back with a souvenir, who was not running out in front of him, stopping every so often for the bumbling husky to catch up. His spirit guide, Pixie, her small kitten butt was often the only visible part of her as she prance along yards in front of her, Leland all the while wondering if she was just playing or if, perhaps, she was actually leading him some place. She had still, as of yet, proved herself useful, but he trusted Dawali, he trusted Aniwaya, and besides, if spirit guides weren’t somehow needed, why would they exist? Surely Leland couldn’t be imagining her, else Asha and the others never would have seen her as well. And they wouldn’t have their own.




With a spurt of speed the calico kitten was now out of sight and Leland sighed heavily, calling after the creature. Pixie, ya damn fool, get back her! And picking up his own pace, the two legged male followed after her. They were certainly past the Aniwaya borders now, and Leland was less comfortable with the lands outside his home. Yet his sense of smell was keen enough, even for being a dog and not a wolf, and soon enough he found the kitten, plopped down in front of a stranger. The music coming from the flute was luring and calming, and Leland paused, forgetting his wayward spirit guide and just stared momentarily at the sable female. Remembering himself, he ducked his head, averting his eyes when he became of just how long he had stopped to stare. Ah, sorry there miss, I was lookin’ fer my... Leland paused, trying to remember again and then the tiniest mew from Pixie prompted the male. My cat.

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