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Ooc: Gosh, I loved this title XDDD
Catherine was walking the borders once again, riding Bluma, named after the blooming of the flowers, as the two females met in the beggining of the spring. She liked to ride the cream mare without saddle, only using a simple, rustic leather halter. The grayish female remembered of how she and the horse got a bound. And with who. Everytime she rides Bluma, she thinks of Leland, and of that day... It seemed that happened just so fast, but yet the way she wanted to have happened. That was confusing, so she tried to forget it, always unsuccessfully. She recalled of fixing some of Seymour's tail feathers on her chocolate brown mane, of painting a black stripe around her right eye... but thoughts about the husky mix still slipped in.
The wolfess and the mare were going to meet the peregrine falcon not too far, and then they would go around the village, looking for anyone who wants to deliver a message. If so, they would and they would go home, rest. If there was none, they would go straight home, without cerimony. It had already became sort of a rotine, but it wasn't boring. Actually, it was always different. There was always someone that they would meet half way somewhere, things to be delivered, and so much more. Of course, with all that ups and downs to everywhere, the woman's riding skills have increased amazingly. She was much more confident of them now, forcing a fast gallope now and then, but always giving the equine a good time of rest and a queen's meal. It worthed it, after all.
The bird's silhouette was now visible, and Catherine pulled the halter's rope gently, to stop the trotte of the mare. It whinned lowly and shook the big head, the long mane waving around. Mechanically, she rubbed the horse's neck with one bare hand, and held the leather-gloved one to the sky, so Seymour could land his sharp claws without harming the female. It harshed lowly twice: it meant that there was nobody near the borders from where he came. That also meant that they could go to the village now. She turned the horse around, toward the forest, until the warm breeze of the summer blew through her reddish hair and the horse's mane and tail. It carried a different smell. The smell of a wolf that had a pack. And it was close.
Where are you?! she said, her voice strong and demanding, the voice she developed with her job. She couldn't be warm and cheerful with the unknown, and she learned it with time. Show yourself! she warned, taking out the rough bow that was around her shoulder, along with the arrows carrier. She couldn't give a warning shot if she doesn't know where the stranger were. If she accidentaly hitted him or her? It would be catastrophic. The half blinded female waited patiently to an answer, that would surely come, sooner or later. Better be sooner.
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Ril'o was just plain sad, there could not be any other words to describe how he feels-mentally and physically. The golden male had be traveling for a while, merely walking along with his mind thinking away as it fiddled with his stress and fears, but at the current moment he wasn't exactly sure where he was but he knew was he was no longer in his pack's borders. Sighing, Ril'o walked slowly as his mind went over the events that lead to his walking adventure; his green eyes narrowed slightly in a sad manner as his brows pushed together as the golden werewolf thought about his friend, most of their day he could pull from his memory but it seems pieces in the middle are missing. Moving slowly his injured leg limped slightly as some deep bits of wood were still in his leg, though the rest were pulled by his teeth, shifting for him was out of the question because it was very painful to even attempt;each step set a painful throbbing up his toes and to his leg an shoulder with an painful shock that he was numbed to by now, lowering his head Ril'o would've appeared to be staring at the ground as he walked but he simply didn't care and if possible he felt very alone.
Finally looking around his legs never stopped as his black nose caught a strange yet familiar scent, ears flickered about as an unsure feeling filled him. 'what is that smell?' Normally he wouldn't be so curious but at the current moment there wasn't any thing better to do. Emerald eyes searched ahead, looking in between the branches and trees for the smell that has lured him in. Pausing, his ears fanned forward as a whine noise which made his head tilt slightly. Moving forward Ril'o's body changed without him knowing it, not in forms but in the manner it was moved. Now Ril'o in a low creep was his eye were wide and open shinning with a bit of excitement, stopping behind a bush his tail curled to himself as he finally could see the animal. 'a horse! it's been so long since i'm seen one.' Ril'o has never seen that kind of animal alive, but he has ate that kind of meat before when his mother was still around.
Ril'o didn't expect the female on the horse to call out so threatening, the sudden sound was startling it's self but the threat with a bow did it for Ril'o. Startled his body almost did a back flip when he jumped from the sound, hiting the ground with a thud a yelp escaped him from his hurt leg. "whoa whoa!! What!!" Pulling himself up his warm voice was startled and shacking as his golden head slowly looked from around a tree. "ow.." his words were to himself as his leg began throbbing again.
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BRING ME BACK TO FALLEN TOWN WHERE SOMEONE IS STILL ALIVE
table by Giggle
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Ooc: --
Catherine relaxed a bit when she could finally know where the stranger was. It was half hid behind a tree, his surprised -or scared, she wasn't that sure- voice was very showy in the silent day. Her complete attention was in that golden head, and nothing else. It was necessary all of that. he wasn't going to allow herself to lose him from her limited sight. Her bilnded eye restrained her vison plenty of the time, which was very annoying in such situations.
Who comes here? Tell me your name. she said, as demanding as before. She dismounted slowly, without turning her head, her vision still aimmed on the stranger. With the bow in one hand and the other in her waist -Seymour was now in her shoulder-, she stood there, Bluma's head a few inches from her head. She waited paciently for another answer, not wanting to pressure the poor guy. The graysih woman knew that they normally got estressed and agressive when pressured or trapped, even more if harmed. It would be hard to talk to someone that was either, or -worse- both. Actually, it would be dangerous. She knew it pretty well, the terrible blurred scenes of the day she got that scar. Sighing, she kept there, completely frozen up.
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