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Despite his efforts to calm himself down he was still at a loss as to how to handle everything. True, his own anger had surprised him, and it did not suit him - did not taste well in his mouth. He did not enjoy violence, or hostility. Of course, he knew he had done the right thing, and still he could feel contempt rise to his throat when he thought about the event. No matter Brennt's - shall we say - lack of social competence, Dawali had felt his hackles rise from more than just his own emotion. For a moment someone had stared at him through those eyes, someone he had not encountered, and who he did not wish to encounter. It had not been the person who so clumsily had revealed his sickening intent at his borders - no, it had been someone wholly different. How abruptly had his stance changed, the dullness of his eyes transforming to something completely wild, intense, uncontrollable - someone he would not fight, for the fear of his own life. That was what stirred a maelstrom in his self - the confusion, and the fear. Had he imagined it all? No, Gvihita confirmed to the smallest detail his perception. But they were linked, his precious bird and himself - was he in the wrong? He had not overreacted in his opinion; every action he had taken was in the right in his own mind. He had sworn himself to warn other packs, and he would do so - first this Dahlia de Mai place, of selfish reasons: He wished, if he got the chance, to catch a glimpse of this Haku Soul who apparently knew nothing of his four pups in the tribe. It was curiosity that drove him, and he knew better than to reveal that intent - he was slightly more advanced in such skills than Brennt had turned out to be. A mighty bird sat on his shoulder, and for once her claws did not feel as if they were digging into his skin. She'd not said anything since the encounter, except to confirm his questions in the aftermath, and stayed in her solid form now, visible to anyone. Her yellow gaze pierced the dampness of a mild spring morning as Dawali approached the borders of the pack, whose numbers were the largest around here, apparently. Raising a red muzzle to the sky, breathing in the night, which he had not slept in, the pack leader called out for someone of authority - someone who would take his request seriously, and bring his message to those who needed to know it the most. He felt rather insecure where he stood, waiting for someone to come along: smaller of species, he was a slender - but tall - and feather-decorated male on a quest to save the world's puppies from a horrible fate. Terrible sting, terrible storm.
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Cwmfen’s spirit was singing. It had been a month since she had last been able to move her body like this, but a month was too long.
The warrior was within the glade near her den, and she practiced the arts of war. The style was adopted from her father, of whom she now thought. While the woman’s mind was darkened by his presence, her body and soul were still free of him, and she thanked him only for life and this martial art. It was a unique style the derived power from the core of the body; while the other martial arts were of a likeness, the ability to use only the body, the ability to use only the self for defense, offense, and killing was something too beautiful. Her soul sang with that song of war with which she lived so keenly. And the Head Warrior of Dahlia de Mai practically flew with both her spirit and her body as she executed—as near to perfectly as one could get—each move. The air whistled with the power of each strike as she practiced, with a resolute mind, that which would be necessary to defeat another in any attack, whether it be a surprise blitz like Hybrid’s or something else like Corvus’. She was determined to serve herself and her pack well.
It was the call upon the wind that caught the woman’s attention. She ceased her movement as a breeze that fell silent for the night, her ears erected as she listened to the call upon the wind. Her breathing was only mildly labored and her heated body only mildly perspiring as she stood in the warm sun. The rays of fire caught the blue woad of her fur, and those markings of power and protection, bestowed upon her by the Morrigan and by her mother, seemed to leap with life like blue fire. The song that fell silent upon the wind seemed urgent and troubled. She did not recognize the voice, but it called for a wolf of Dahlia de Mai to answer it. The Adonis promptly relinquished her practice knowing that she could return to her personal endeavors at any time. The distraught call, however, must be answered at once. And as the Adonis of her pack, the warrior moved immediately.
She did not have time to seek out her Raven Spear, but she would not need it today. The Raven’s kill feather, its tip dyed the red of blood and of the Morrigan, spun in her hair as she moved with a celerity that seemed at once unhurried for her grace. Immediately, the shadow of the one-eyed Raven fell over her as its broad wings brushed against her shoulder. With a quiet smile she regarded the epitome of her Dream as she hurried to the boarders.
The black fae’s swift gait slowed to a walk and to an eventual halt when she was almost an arm’s length away from the man who had called. He smelled of AniWaya; she had been to those lands only twice. The first had been to become familiar with that newly formed pack, and she had met Ayegali. The second was in response to a call of distress from Catherine, and she had been attacked by the pain-blinded fae. It was a strange pack, one of a culture she did not quite understand. But the culture was quiet similar to her own in many respects, and where those similarities existed the warrior was able to relate. With a soft smile, the white eyed fae greeted this AniWayan, bowing before the Raven landed upon her shoulder. "I am Cwmfen nic Graine, Head Warrior and Adonis of Dahlia de Mai," she greeted formally. "What troubles bring you here?" And the warrior hoped that it was not trouble that was caused by one of her pack members.
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His request to meet with someone of the pack was not ignored, and not long after his voice had fled from him and into the strange pack's lands a female appeared, her posture telling him she could be nothing but a highly ranked member. For a moment he stared at her as she approached, having never seen someone as strange as her. Indeed, she had a single feather in her mane, and for a moment he wondered whether she might have tribal connections, although he quickly discarded the notion. No tribe member, of his tribe or the general population he had ever known to populate the world in the same manners as AniWaya, had ever carried resemblance to the female that was approaching. She had markings that were quite unique, and if it was dye (he did have a bit of knowledge on the subject of dyes), he wondered how she made it stick to that raven fur of hers. The mixture would be interesting to learn, but this was not the time.
She stopped at a comfortable distance, and as she spoke he had his yellow gaze concentrated on her. It was a female, but he was not uncomfortable, and he was not nervous. His hands did not play with each other to pass the time as he thought of something to say - instead he was calm, focused. Something in him had changed. Her gender did not matter to him, he realized in a flash of thought, before giving his usual greeting. A red and gray neck bent to point his face towards the ground in a prolonged nod, eyes closed, lingering there for a moment or two before he lifted his head again to face her. As he did so, he matched her greeting - as custom was - with his own name and title. My name is Dawali Amara, Bone Bearer and sub-leader of AniWaya. Once his eyes were again level with hers he felt himself tensing - coming to the real point of things. A restlessness had settled in him since the encounter, and it refused to let go. I've come to warn your pack, the young in particular, of a loner who might aim at harming them. Perhaps she had already heard of him, but then he would still know he had done his duty. None had come to his lands to warn him, but that was not important. He knew what he needed to know now - it was only his duty to make sure everyone who needed protection were protected, AniWayan or not. His mother had knocked too much responsibility into him, that was for sure.
His gaze was dark, golden, as his serious face again split in two halves as he spoke, voice as dark as his message, and he hated uttering the name. His name is Brennt.
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The white orbs considered the man before her. They saw the feathers first, and she wondered at their purpose. Her own was simply to let another know that she had killed in battle. It was a kill feather, the tip died red to represent the blood of the dead. Often one was tied within a mane for every kill, but the female knew that some saw her woad as ostentatious in a negative connotation to an extent that they became uncomfortable; thus she wore only a single kill feather with red thread made of the sinew, each round about the quill representing a kill. She looked now at the feathers within the male’s mane, but she did not think that they had the same connotation as her own ornamentation; perhaps later she could inquire as to what such a thing implied. With a light smile, the woman’s view pulled back, noting that he was a red wolf—a species that she did not often see. There was an obvious difference, but she thought that it was in a pleasant way.
His greeting was formal, as was befitting a leader of a pack. The woad marked warrior liked him immediately, and she gave a slight bow again as if knowing his name required a new greeting. As this Dawali Amara lifted his gaze, the woman met the yellow eyes, noting the tension that seemed to be held there. And she knew suddenly that there was some serious business. There was restlessness within him, and she wondered what made him so. Then he was speaking of a warning he bore, and her woad bound ears pricked forward, her senses now excited. Amara spoke of a loner that sought to harm the young, and for a moment the woman did not know of whom he spoke. The white orbs flickered with her momentary confusion, a soft white flame with curious tongues. Her gaze delved deeper into the golden eyes of the male as if seeking something more. The concern she saw there brought the name to mind.
Brennt. She thought it as he spoke it, the name echoing within the air like a curse. A soft smile flickered on her lips, but this time it seemed awry. An equally soft sigh escaped her jaws as she said, "I know of whom you speak," in that quiet alto that seemed untroubled. "I have met him several times, often with a battle in mind." And once to learn more deeply. The woad marked woman paused for a moment as she considered the Bone Bearer of AniWaya. At her shoulder the one eyed Raven clicked his beak, tilting his head to likewise consider the red wolf. "I have tried reasoning with the male, and yet I feel that he will not learn. His hunger is not of the body but of the mind, and it is difficult to alter the course of another’s mind." The warrior shifted her weight for a moment, and her body seemed to be impervious to the wounds that had rendered her idle a moon ago. "As Warrior, I am growing increasingly uncomfortable with Brennt’s presence; he does indeed pose a threat to the pups of Dahlia de Mai." And yet, the warrior was not willing to kill the perpetrating male for she did not necessarily see the fault in his character; she saw only the flaw of his presence near the packs. "What have you thought to do...?"
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Her gaze was penetrating, and Dawali had no doubt she could see his troubles, his fight within himself. Their greetings and all of that was very nice, and she seemed to be a person he could like and respect. Her person had a strange aura, bearing a likeness to the same which surrounded Ayegali Kala, their previous Chief. Strong women, in every direction there were strong women. And then there was Dawali Amara - but his oddities didn't matter now. All that mattered were the cause at hand, and he left any notion of learning anything about the femme at the first word he had spoken about the predator. He could get to know her better later, if he so wished - Dahlia de Mai and AniWaya had no hostile history as he knew of.
As she formed her response, her face immediately gave away that he did not bring fresh information to her - she had known of him already. The red wolf male kept silent as he listened to her words, seemingly chosen with great care, yet they came out of her mouth as easily as any sentence could. Their message, however, was not light. So, she had tried to help him, of sorts? Dawali was not a man who believed a person to be so broken that they could not be fixed, despite his behavior towards the hungry male at his borders. He'd been too appalled to react differently, and now, a day or two after, he still could not calm himself fully. At the marked femme's question, the male shrugged, obviously saddened. He did not know - how could he? Was he in a position to judge anyone's rights to exist? For that was what she hinted towards - the solution. And the obvious solution was to kill this Brennt - but Dawali could not rest with that decision. His arms hung limply at his sides, fingers pointing to the ground. Honestly? I don't know. There were many reasons as to why Cwmfen could help him, and one of them was this question. What should they do? I promised myself that I would spread the word, to warn those who would need it the most. What do you think we should do? And could they do anything at all?
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The AniWayan subleader seemed unnerved; the warrior was quite calm herself, but she knew what was made in the hearts of those who hated and refused to understand what Brennt did; there was hate and fear and a need to rid the world of such a thing. But the follower of Nemain was not so sure; she was not sure whether what Brennt did was truly wrong, and perhaps that was why Brennt had remained alive. There had been many opportunities for the warrior to kill the wolf with a swift and sudden strike while she had been in his near proximity. But the warrior, who did not necessarily follow the ideals of this particular society, could not hate that creature. She did understand, however, the threat that he now seemed to pose for her pack; with the sudden influx of pups within Dahlia de Mai, she knew as a Warrior that she must move to protect them. And she knew also that at one point Brennt would be killed. And still the warrior was reluctant to destroy something so unique; she had never met anyone quite like that yellow-eyed predator before.
And the Dahlian Adonis nodded quietly. She knew that something must and would be done against that male. And Amara’s honest words made a quiet smile dance upon her lips. "I face the same obstacle; I know as you do that something must be done—but what is that “something”?" The alto melody danced lightly upon the air, contrasting to the male’s heavier mood. But the warrior could not express herself in extreme emotions (save for fear, but fear is the opiate of survival); perhaps the male would understand and not take the offense that others seemed to express. And then the woad warrior nodded again. "To tell the other packs of this creature is wise; with knowledge they too will be moved to act. The pups will need to be secured." The woman believed that the young were indeed the leaders of the future; while she herself could not bring herself to tolerate the young minds for long, she knew of their importance and would not disregard it. She was a protector but she was not a mother.
"Truly, I am not quite sure as to what must be done," the soft alto admitted openly. She did not have difficulty expressing that she did not know something, and she would not waste this leader’s time. For a moment she offered him only an apologetic smile. "I know, however, that if he will not change his ways, he will be killed, even if it is by my own hand. I will not tolerate his presence near Dahlia’s pups, nor that of any other pack. However, I cannot stop every incident, and so I believe that your move in telling the leaders is a wise move." The woman paused for a moment, her mind moving in the silence. "The easiest thing would be to kill him now," she said suddenly, "But I know that these lands would appreciate justice; perhaps it will be necessary to await the next incident, whether planned or not." By ‘planned’, the woman meant that it was a possibility to bait Brennt by using a pup, but she doubted that anyone would risk a young life.
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[html] | http://i692.photobucket.com/albums/vv28 ... /raven.png); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: bottom; border:1px solid black;"> That raven - I'm guessing it's a spiritual thing, or can Dawali actually see it?
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A smile emerged from the solemn face of this Cwmfen nic Graine, and Dawali felt the need to smile back, although he did not do so. She carried it well. The words which followed, however, were nowhere near matching the mood portrayed by such an action, for there was nothing good or jolly about the occasion. A darkness rose inside his being, and now it was at its strongest. He had learned to recognize it as a sort of alert seriousness, which came forth when it was needed, often in the company of anger. It came in urgent situations, when something more drastic had to be done to ensure the safety of his fellow beings. Now was the third time in his life that he felt it, and he wished it would go away once the Brennt situation was back in control. And he wished that it would never come back. As the female in front of him spoke, the red male nodded - his face a serious mask, every motion solemn and grave.
She claimed she faced the same obstacle as himself, the question of whether they should kill the brute, and in one way Dawali doubted she was as hindered by it as himself. He knew that he was no warrior, he had no skills with a weapon, and the very thought let a chill run down his spine. He did not have it in him to harm another being, or so he thought. Dawali Amara could chase someone away with the authority of his rank and deep voice, but that was it. Cwmfen, however, was obviously not the same. "Head Warrior" she had called herself - not just a simple warrior, no - the most proficient one they had in this pack. The red wolf male did not see how the situation could be a dilemma to a wielder of death, to a true protector. Then again, Dawali knew little to nothing of war and violence, and although he would never admit it still thought warriors to be strong and skilled, but violent of nature. In his mind they were meant to rush out and save the world, and then not much else. And if such a mindset was the case the solution was obvious - kill him.
Cwmfen spoke again, and she revealed to him that perhaps she fit this idea fully; it seemed she was prepared to take a final step. Dawali could never, although Cwmfen had the mental strength. Then again he could not even be a part of the decision to kill the brute, because that - too - felt like blood on his hands, no matter who did the actual killing.
The red wolf male stood still and watched her for a moment after she had finished speaking, and then spoke himself - still uncertain. They could not decide anything on their own - what if Brennt had connections in other packs? He was a loner, but it could still be the case, and it should be taken into consideration. And the other packs needed warning too, and should perhaps have a say in it. Perhaps we should wait with deciding anything at all until the other packs have been informed? That is, unless there is an incident which we need to act upon. He paused, glancing at the ground and back up towards the female, distracted for a moment of the sensation emerging from Gvihita on his shoulder. She shifted her weight, and seemed uncomfortable with waiting. Her hatred outshone anything in his mind for the moments he was silent, and then he regained his take on the world. Quietly, he bent his face only an inch or two in her direction, and uttered a soft hush. Her response was a subdued squeak, seemingly portraying the split feelings he harbored. You seem to know him quite well. It was a statement, but a question. Her knowledge made him curious.
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No, it’s an actual raven that you can see, ^=^ It’s not really a pet—it came to her after the Long Nights when she discovered her dream animal, but normally dream animals don’t become epitomized in anyway; it’s just part of the plot between Cwmfen and Corvus, ^=^;; Sorry for the confusion~
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A soft smile flickered across her maw as the male spoke. Of course, she thought to herself. But she was a warrior before a diplomat, if she were even able to call herself that, and so often such thoughts escaped her. "Of course, that would be wise," the alto tones agreed immediately. "This matter will effect them all. However, I will not cease to do what must be done should that event arise." When Cercelee had asked her to step up to the position of Adonis, she began to make the effort to understand such formalities with which she was unfamiliar. And so she had grown, but there was still much that she could not yet retain, especially because they clashed with her own martial instincts. However, she never did anything rash, and she knew that Cercelee could be that true politician, as was expected of a leader. She could simply offer her own view of whatever matter was at hand.
The woman watched for a moment the bird on the other’s shoulder. It was smaller than the Raven, but she sensed a fierce demeanor from that companion. It contrasted greatly with the Raven, who seemed to carry an unnatural distance about him, even with herself. Briefly, the white orbs flickered to the Raven upon her shoulder, but he was not watching the other bird. That single eye was riveted upon the red wolf before them both. Dawali spoke again, but it was not a question. The statement did not need answering, and the woman was silent for a moment before spoke, but the nature of that silence was indiscernible.
"Yes. He’s quite a strange creature," the soft melody replied at length. The white orbs held the golden gaze of the AniWayan, not awkward or timid in any manner as she spoke. "I first encountered him several moons ago; he seemed to be a nice creature, and I think deep down he is. But he misunderstood my gesture of kindness and tried to mount me, which did not go over well." The woman smiled slightly, her ill attempts at humor a failure. "I sought him again when he attacked on of my pack members, and I tried to show him that there could be other ways of feeding that did not require pups. But it must be some sort of psychological thing from his past." The woman fell silent, finishing her tale. And she did not share with this male that she had allowed the predator to mate with her, for that was a personal matter, one that she did not believe to be a necessary or significant factor. It would not affect her decision because it did not bind her to him in anyway; she had merely been curious of the creature, and that was her way of ‘knowing’ another.
"I know justice," the woman said suddenly, "But it may not be the same as the laws which bind this land...." Truly, the woman did not know whether this were a good or bad thing.
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She agreed with him, and as she formed it into words and spoke them aloud Dawali let his eyes rest on the black creature that sat on her shoulder. How strange, that they should meet, and both have powerful birds following them. Back in the day when he had grown up, the bird spirit guide had been the symbol of the Amara family,and most family members had a bird for a spirit guide. It was funny, but those who also had a bird spirit guide, but came from other places and families seemed to have less trouble with establishing a bond with any of his own family members. One of his sisters had become the mate of a warrior from another tribe, who also had a bird guide. His had been a sparrow, however - quite unlike the hawk his sister had had. But this raven was not like anything he'd seen before, and despite how only one eye seemed to be active, its aura claimed it did not need more to be omniscient. It sat there calmly, but somehow Dawali knew that it was no ordinary raven, although he could not pinpoint the reason. Gvihita could probably tell him of the creature, but as she was silent as before, refusing to communicate through words or images.
When she replied to his question she seemed unaffected by what she was saying, but heat rose in Dawali's cheeks as the words reached his ears. He was not used to anyone speaking of such things, and since she threw on an odd smile to the sentence he assumed she found it humorous, although he did not. It wasn't that he didn't find it decent, he just simply wasn't used to the subject - it was private, very private! Luckily, his red furs saved him like they always did, and from another point of view his awkwardness could not be seen, except from a change of weight from one foot to the other and a very short seance of fingers dancing, as if he did not know what to do with his hands. After then revealing she had sought him out both to investigate an attack and to help him, she fell silent, and the sub-leader wondered whether this was when he should say something. At first the femme's presence had been tolerable for his poor and troubled mind, but now, with sexually charged jokes and that raven staring at him, he did not know. However, just as he was about to speak, the femme spoke again - and now he could find words that fit in better. He did not know what justice she might know or feel, but he threatened the tribe's children, and that would be the end of it. I don't know what kind of justice the ones that live here use, but my tribe and family have our own idea of what is right. A life for a life, a threat for a threat. I threatened him back, and he left - but I am still worried he will return. If he kills - I will make certain he does not live long. That is how to balance good and evil in the world. He knew that it was harsh, and he knew that he would not be the one to do it should the predator actually kill someone - but he would find someone who could. And then he would not hesitate.
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Don’t worry about it! ^=^
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The pied raven shifted upon the warrior’s shoulder, the white of his pied plumage catching the light almost as if in warning. The single eye was turned to watch the male, having chosen to ignore the other bird. And yet, in the silence, for a moment he considered the eagle, that inky gaze empty and yet calculating. The Raven’s beak clicked quietly near the woman’s ear, as if speaking to her. But the woman was silent as she simply listened. The white orbs watched the red wolf, and there seemed to be some change that had overtaken him as she spoke of the Raven. But she did not know what it was. Ayegali had been wary of the Raven and had even offered her help should she require it. The woman was quite aware that the Raven was a symbol of Death; it was so even with the Morrigan she followed. The Raven was the entity that guided souls across the river that divided the world of the living from the world of the dead. And yet, while she had felt a quiet warning for the bird, nothing questionable had arisen. The Raven’s company was welcomed at times, though others, when this warning was more acutely felt, invoked a blackness within her mind.
A soft smile, almost fierce, graced the woad warrior’s maw. "I follow a similar Justice," the soft alto replied, her woad tipped tail waving once as if in approval. "And such threats should not be shown mercy." There was something harsh in the way that she said it, though for what reason it was perceived to be so was unknown. But the path of the warrior carried one in such directions. While Cwmfen’s curiosity was intrigued by Brennt, as Warrior she would have no difficulty eliminating him. And the black fae had little difficult separating her personal life with the life of the warrior she so loved. She had made such a display when Svara had reentered the lands of Dahlia. The warrior did not show mercy, and the girl had not taken to it kindly. But the warrior knew her place, and she knew what she would do. Cwmfen did not change her ways simply because it was unpleasant to another; she did what she could when others could not, just as others did what she could not. It was a simple thing. But the warrior was never cruel.
"But you must be careful. He’s adept at adapting to what’s given to him. If he has already fought you, it will be difficult next time." The woman was a lithe creature, and she had much skill, practicing at least one every day. But the size and strength of the yellow-eyed predator could easily overcome her. Constantly the woman was thinking of new ways to counter such a thing, to allow her an advantage, to be unpredictable. If she could, she would kill him. If not, she would wound him enough to bring about his death. The woman paused for a moment, considering now the AniWayan before her. "Are you a warrior, Dawali Amara?" She did not doubt that a creature that did not follow the warrior’s path would be able to overcome another wolf, but perhaps it would be easier for Dawali to challenge the wolf in question if he had the training for Brennt himself fought only with instinct.
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[html] | http://i692.photobucket.com/albums/vv28 ... /raven.png); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: bottom; border:1px solid black;"> Sorry again, hopefully I'll get my activity up in not long when there's less things to do :/
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The Raven's beak clicked as he watched it, seemingly communicating with the femme, although there was no doubt in the red wolf's mind that it could not speak to her directly, as Gvihita could. It was no spirit guide, although it was clear to him that the bird was not completely from this mortal world either. The strange aura it seemed to have made him feel chilly, but at the same time puzzled. Looking away from it and onto the ground, he decided not to give it any thought. Cwmfen seemed honorable enough, and if she wanted to be the acquaintance of some strange and other-wordly bird, well.. then she might do so. It wasn't as if his link to Gvihita was any stranger, really, to someone who had never encountered either.
He felt a certain friendliness in him reach out to the femme as she agreed on his thoughts of law and justice, it seemed they were agreeing on not just one point, but several. More often than not he could feel level with someone when it came to their behavior and common thoughts - and not so often when it came to heavier subjects such as spirituality or justice. His family's traditions were incorporated in him so strongly that he could not simply let them go because these lands followed something else. Was he not in the right to execute this justice, when he was the leader of his own tribe? The one in question was in any way not associated with any other packs, but if he had he would still have contacted his pack's leader and demanded his justice. Some might think it harsh, but it was more fair than other kinds of punishment. A life for a life, or the balance was disturbed. That this opinion was the same or at least very similar to someone else's felt refreshing. Nodding as she spoke, his face was a mask of graveness.
She assumed that he would be the punisher if Brennt should be punished, and at this idea he felt heat rise in his face again. A momentary sensation only, it still stung in his heart - shame. He was not strong enough, and not skilled enough. More importantly - he was not brave enough. He had never felt such fear as he had then, when the beast had suddenly turned and pierced him with a gaze which looked like it belonged to anything but the dim male he had started chasing. No, Dawali Amara was no match for that beast, and Cwmfen saw this, he was certain. His body was not the one of a warrior - he was a worker, and he had a worker's muscles. Stiff, but strong for certain tasks, although useless for combat. He lacked the necessary agility and speed, even though he was slim and light. Admitting the flaw, his eyes fell to the ground for a moment before the words exited his mouth, not particularly proud of himself. After all, he was supposedly the strength of the tribe - the Chief, and now he could not protect them. I am.. no warrior. It would be stupidity to seek him myself, or on my own, should his behavior force us to act. I believe I was lucky to get away without a scratch when I ran into him, and yes - I think I would not be as lucky a second time.
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That’s fine, ^=^ And maybe this is getting a bit outdated since Brennt’s time is practically up? I can end it here, if you want, ^=^
500+
Perhaps the question had been uncalled for—she herself believed that it did not matter whether one was a warrior or not: in times of need the self will know what to do and one will do what one was meant to do. No, the question was not made to question the man’s skill. The striking similarities of their appearances and even their ideals had moved the woman to wonder what manner of wolf the male was. She was not surprised to hear that the man was not a warrior, but that meant nothing in her judgment of him. He was the leader of the tribe AniWaya, and that tribe continued to remain stable and intact through his leadership. Was that not enough of the leader? Even if he himself could not bring himself to fight, the woman knew from her last visit within the tribe that warriors did indeed exist. It was the alpha of the tribe that dictated that which must be done. Without him, there would be no order, no stability. It was Dawali Amara’s duty that was greater than her own, just as it was with Cercelee.
The woman smiled gently, extending her hand to briefly and lightly hold the male’s unoccupied shoulder. "We are expected to do only what we can and must." The quiet melody paused. She helped to lead a pack as well, and she knew something about what was expected of another, especially a leader. "You will know what to do when the time comes." At times, the truth of what was and what must be done was known only in the moment of acting. With that gentle smile, her hand returned to her side. It was not often that she touched another, and even when she did, the touch was given in the same way she had given it to Dawali Amara: with a soft, brief and gentle contact that was almost superficial and yet not cold. The woman simply was not accustom to making such contact and probably never would. As a warrior, she had learned to keep a fair amount of physical and mental distance, but she had learned also, especially upon her travels in the barren fields of ice, that one must never trust too deeply and too completely. It was simply too dangerous. "Just remember to not only be steeled in body but in mind as well." She gave him a soft smile before retracting her hand.
The pied Raven made a peculiar growling sound, almost a coo, as the single, inky eye watched the red wolf. Then the woman bowed, setting askew the balance of that pied bird, his wings outstretched to maintain it. Rising, the woad warrior said, "I thank you for your warning. It had occurred to me as well that this matter was getting out of hand, but it took your word to make that threat more apparent." The warrior did not pretend to always know what must be done. Her relaxed view of the world had brought tolerance upon her handling with Brennt, but she knew that she could not allow her views to dictate what must be done. It was, after all, not she that was in danger but the pups of the packs and thus the future of the packs. The warrior knew that there was not much else that could be done here, and she gently and formally dismissed the higher ranking individual. "I wish your travels safe," the quiet melody said simply as she took a single step back but did not turn around.
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