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Set at Whisper Beach just outside Dahlia's borders. Did you want to forward date this any so she's healed and can shift?
The man's shoulder was finally returning to normal. It had been a long process, one where he had become even more gruff than usual in the presence of others. Weakness was not something he enjoyed showcasing, but even a youth could smell the blood on him and knew it belonged to him. So he had stuck to the city, to protect himself from further injuries or reopening his current wound. Also if he wasn't walking around in the world then he couldn't see all the wrongs out there that he didn't have the ability to rectify at the current time. He had only left the city once and had run into that mad coyote that he knew to be Hybrid Holocaust. That meeting had been almost unbearable. Knowing that he stared down at the creature that had caused Cwmfen and doubtless others so much pain and he was useless. The taste that had left in his mouth had been enough to make him avoid it happening again.
However with his self-imposed quarantine in the city had come a long separation from that woad woman who had the power to make his heart live. He understood, and did not begrudge her the long absence. She had duties to her pack just as he had duties to his mission. Their obligations pulled them in different directions, but that didn't mean they still couldn't share what was left of their time. This was the first day he had felt confident enough in his recovery to make the journey to the place she called home. Though Onus was still weary. His flesh had mostly healed but the muscles were stiff from the month of no use. While he would be able to defend himself better than he had previously been able to, he still was not back to his full utility.
His nose told him when he stood at the borders of Dahlia de Mai. Within that scent he smelled her, but he also smelled that man with whom he had done battle. He hoped that the brown wolf would not come across his presence. That would add unwelcome complications. He did not wish for Cwmfen to choose between a packmate and him anymore than he wanted to choose between her and his mission. So the coated man stood a good distance away from the borders on the soft sands of the beach, the roar of the waves filling his ears. He made no move to call her. If she wished to come to him, then she would.
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Yes, that’s probably better~ Is the 11th okay with you?
500+
Cwmfen had shifted, able now take on the change. For a moment, she simply lay within the soft grasses, tender with their youth of spring. Her breathing was only slightly labored with the effort of the change—shifting after a healing had always proved to be the most difficult. A woad bound hand reached back, lightly tracing the healed wounds that made her lower back and hips sore, but they had not reopened. And they no longer caused her to limp, but she knew that the scars that had been superimposed upon the longer scar down her back would remain prevalent for a while. There was nothing that could be done about it, but the pain was not to an extent that it could not be ignored. And the warrior’s body was used to such hardships. With a soft sigh and a serene smile, the woman fell back into the grass, the white orbs watching the springtime heavens and simply enjoying the silence of the day. She would linger here for a moment longer before she would set out for the day. But her relaxation was short-lived as the epitome of her Dream seemed to fall from the sky with shadowed wings, landing in a tree overhead. The Raven sat above in the trees, his single eye watching the female below him as he clicked his beak: something had come.
The Adonis rose immediately in response, grasping the Raven Spear that had been dormant against the tree before she turned to trace the path along the river. Her step was light and unhindered by the newly healed wounds (it seemed that every time she healed, some exciting calamity befell her). The spear was held at an angle, the bright blade humming quietly in her soul as it bit the air before her, ever hungry for that art of war. And yet she had never had the chance to use it on another, had never had a chance to satisfy the weapon’s hunger if only ephemerally. She did not doubt that one day she would be moved to, but for now she would be content with that martial pattern her body could conjure. The woman’s mind for a moment considered her father, believing that perhaps he was the one of whom the Raven spoke. And yet she felt in her soul that it was not yet time. Perhaps it would be Brennt, intent upon taking back what he believed that she had stolen—a soft growl whispered from her throat, a discontent sound; she would not waste her time again with that creature. But she did not think that she would find him there either—he was not one to hunt another down. And so she simply followed the Raven that shadowed the path ahead of her.
A whisper. The ocean’s incessant breathing sounded about her, breaking to the trees. Suddenly, the bird turned toward the boarder, and she no longer needed the Raven’s eyes. As if knowing that, he fell from sight, disappearing from that sensory in her soul that could feel him. The woad bound ear’s pricked forward, her white gaze holding a ferocity that clearly mirrored the belligerent thoughts flitting through her mind. As her feet hit the sand and the boarder that marked it, she paused, seeing a figure in the distance. For a moment the woman simply stood there, her gaze cutting through the distance to identify the creature who stood beyond the boarder. Then the wind came, touched by that smell of salt and water and eternity, bringing to her that scent as it brushed through the feather in her mane. She knew that scent. Onus. Her woad tipped tail flickered behind her, the weapon falling slightly in height—she would not need to attack. A soft trot carried her to him, closing the distance between them with ease. Cwmfen had not seen him since that night—perhaps that wound he bore had healed. The woman stopped short, suddenly a little timid as the white orbs looked at him; he seemed better than he had the night she had found him, she thought with a smile.
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Works for me! :3
His covered gaze stared out into the crashing and thrashing ocean that lay before him. For the man who felt more comfortable in the confines of concrete and glass, he had to admit there was something calming about a beach. Perhaps some innate quality the place held for all beings. Perhaps it also had to do with the sound. While louder and perhaps more violent then the trickling of a lake or stream, he found this water sound more pleasing to his ears. The steady crashing and receding of the salty water on the shore. Almost like breathing. That was what it reminded him of. Though most particularly the sound of her breathing as they had laid next to each other that night. How peaceful they had both been. A peace he had never before felt.
Onus was still amazed at what had transpired between the two of them that night. Never had the coyote expected to share that intimacy with anyone. He was a difficult creature, he knew that. Yet she was able to bring out a tenderness that was against his nature. Or maybe it really wasn't against his nature. Maybe it had simply been buried within him so long that he had forgot it was even there. There was one thing he did know though. That it would have taken a very special woman to break through all his defenses, to find that heart that lied beneath all of his walls and make it beat. She had done that and how extraordinary that was was hardly lost on him.
Movement was caught in his periphery and he turned to take in the form of that one soul that knew how to reach his'. As she walked up slowly, almost invisibly, the corners of his mouth turned upward. It was the slightest change in his usual stoic expression, but it was there. He turned to face her as she stopped a bit short of him. Hesitantly he reached out one hand to her. He was not so familiar with her that he felt he could touch her without her approval.
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500+
The woman lingered with that distance between them, unsure as to how she was to greet this man. But when he turned to look at her, she saw that subtle smile, and for the woad woman that simple gesture was more profound and precious than any word of greeting. Her tail waved several times behind her as she planted the Raven Spear into the sand beside her. And so with ease, as he held out that hand, she closed the distance between them. Her own hand, fingers ringed in woad, slid into his as if they were made to fit, and she grasped those rough hands warmly. She stood close to him before completely eliminating the distance as she offered him a hug of greeting, her hand sliding up his back to grip his shoulder. And she held that hug for several moments, breathing in that unique scent (she wondered if it were natural or not) that pleasantly tingled her sense. As she pulled a way, her fingers lingered upon his coat, feeling the material with a certain amount of curiosity.
Looking up, the white orbs sought the eyes that were once more masked by that cloth, and she smiled up at him. She did not say that she had not seen him in a while, for that would be a restating of the obvious. Instead, she asked, "How’s your shoulder?" Reaching up, she gingerly touched the clothing that covered the wound beneath it. It had already been a moon since the incident, but such a wound would require a great amount of healing before returning to normal, if it ever would. But this wound would not maim the coyote as he moved with relative ease; however, the woman remembered how the male had ignored the pain even as Bane had closed the wound, repairing what he could and leaving the rest to regenerate through those natural means. Her gaze lingered upon the place where the wound would be before returning to gaze upon his face with unmasked affection. She did believe that she loved this man, and it was a strange feeling with which she continued to struggle.
Allowing her hand to fall, the soft melody danced upon the air. "What brings you here?" The woman did not deny that she was delighted by this unexpected appearance, but she knew of what this creature of Justice did. For a moment, she thought of her father. She was relieved by the fact that she had not directly seen the crow wolf since that night when she had found Ezekiel’s battered body. Yet, occasionally she had caught his scent, and she was quietly under the impression that the traces of that sent grew closer and closer to these packlands. And yet, Corvus Vendetta had not made himself known, and this made the woman wonder. She knew that he had caused trouble at the boarders with Svara and Leroy, and now with Tokyo; she had discovered their intermingled scents on her passes through the packlands. But she wondered now what Onus was indulged in, what crime had been brought to his attention.
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As her blue and black tail waved behind her he knew that she must have seen his smile. He was glad that she was able to pick up on that subtle change in his face. Onus would never be the type to have over exaggerated expressions but he wanted her to know that while few could change his deadpan look, she could. When her fingers weaved in between his own the warmth soaked into his palm and rose up his arm into his chest. As she wrapped her other arm around his back to embrace him, he moved to do the same. Gently his hand rested on the lower part of her back. His fingers noticed the scarred wounds there. While they were not fresh, they had not been there the last time he had seen her. Concern leaked into his mind, but he said nothing, not wanting to ruin the moment.
Even though his eyes were once again hidden from her, the looked happily down upon her. "It is better. Not fully healed. Well enough though." He would still be avoiding getting into any physical altercations as best he could, but he felt able enough to walk the lands again. Her hand lingered on his shoulder and he moved his from her back to undo the upper buttons of his coat so she could see for herself. It no longer needed a dressing, so the rather ugly scarring was plain for all to see (except for himself). It still looked nasty, but it would be nothing compared to when she had seen it last. It was less painful now too, though he would need to work it back into shape once the process had completed itself.
He allowed his coat to stay unbuttoned as his hand went to her face, touching her cheek ever so lightly. For a man that was usually only used to using force against others, the careful touches he placed upon her came naturally. "You." It was the truth. No crime or offender had brought him to these borders. The only reason he had come here was in the hopes of seeing her again. "I...missed you." The words came from his throat with some effort, but the truth in them was clear. He never lied. He hated to divert the attention from the matters at hand, but he could not let it go. "What happened to your back?" She seemed fine and he knew that she was a warrior as well and such occurrences were bound to happen. Still, those facts could not stop his concern for her.
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500+
She was glad when he had returned that gesture. Her body was unused to his touch, but it was soft, gentle, quite belying the blows he was no doubt accustom to giving. The sensation was pleasant, tickling her skin. And the touch was soft enough that the wounds that those fingers touched did not become aggravated. His proximity invoked so many emotions within the woman that it was difficult for her to not become confused with the novelty of it all. But instead of tensing, instead of building a wall to stop them, she was relaxed, allowing those sensations to wash over her like as the ebb and flow of the ocean brought the sands. For once she did not pay attention to those minute details, instead allowing herself to experience them all at once, to feel the entire ensemble in the moment it was given. At first it was difficult, like the first time she had had to cut out an arrow head that had refused to be removed from her arm; but once the concept was grasped, it was effortless, natural.
She was glad that the wound was healing nicely, but she knew how frustrating it must be for the male. That wound would not have allowed him to make those confrontations that he desired to make to those that committed injustices. She had known that same frustration during her own period of healing; it was only a relief that the wound she had recently received had not caused as much damage for the frantic, aggressive manner in which they were received. Silently, the black fae watched as he undid the coat, revealing the wound that lay dormant beneath. It was better than it had been, but there was still much healing to be done. Her fingers returned to the wound, brushing against the fur upon the boarder of that injury. And it was her father that had done that, a small frown tugged at her lips before disappearing once more. That hand tentatively fell further down his chest, able to feel the fur and warmth of his body released by the opened coat. "Have you fought again?" The alto melody was soft, those tones ambiguous as she spoke. But perhaps it was still too early in the healing process to engage in such activity; in such cases, impatience was dangerous.
The white orbs shifted from the wound to those hidden eyes as his hand came to her cheek. She breathed in quietly, listening to the sound of the ocean behind him. But his reply cut through those sounds with ease, and they caught her off guard. At first she was confused, not quite able to grasp that it was simply she that had drawn him here. But when he continued, almost struggling with those words, she understood. Her heart beat a little harder as she was silent for a moment. "I should have come to see you...." But I was afraid. Afraid of what? Perhaps she was afraid that that night had been a dream, or perhaps that his response had been muddled by the pain. But his presence here pushed that fear aside. Perhaps it was okay to allow herself the luxury of these emotions. Pausing in her thoughts, she looked up, alerted by that question. "A few weeks ago, I battled with a loner—a pup eater that was trying to eat one of our pups." She smiled lightly up at him, not having expected that concern. "The wounds stopped me from finishing him off, but they’re fine now," she assured quietly.
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It was strange, the way he felt around her. Never before had the closeness of another body comforted him so. Usually such notions repulsed him and he moved away. Partially an instinct of battle, especially against large opponents. In a situation such as that closeness could mean death. Usually the only time he felt at east being so close to another body was when his hands were wrapped about their throat and they were dying. Even though this was only the second time he had experienced the feelings that being so close to Cwmfen brought out, the man could understand why others craved such contact. Though this would not change his normal behavior. He would still shun such contact from anyone else. But with her, he never wanted space to penetrate between them.
Her hand on his chest sent a sort of tingle up his spine and he quietly squeezed her hand that lay in his. His heart beat more heavily in his chest, almost as if responding to the presence of her hand. At her query he shook his head. "No. Not safe yet. If I was hit there or my arm twisted the wrong way could be debilitating. The muscles are also stiff and out of shape." If being such a loner had taught him anything, it was to know his body better than most. He could easily tell when something was amiss or if some illness ran through it. Such knowledge was of a great advantage to someone of his profession. Knowing oneself and ones body completely was one of the best ways to overcome another.
Onus could tell that his answer had been a surprise to her. He couldn't blame her, it was almost a surprise to himself. His inability to do his work helped, he had nothing else to do. But he knew that was not truly the reason. It was because he had indeed missed her. Ever since she had left that morning a part of him had yearned to have her by his side again. He had wanted the warmth. He had wanted the way she made him feel back. At first he also had wondered if it had been his vulnerable physical and mental condition that had allowed that night to happen. His lingering feelings had more or less disproved that though. And now that they stood together again nothing had changed in the way he felt towards her. The man knew this was real. "It is no matter. You have your obligations." He understood that better than anyone.
A pup eater? Now Onus could honestly say he hadn't encountered one of those before. That was somewhat surprising. He had dealt with those who exploited pups, used them for sexual pleasure, tortured them just for the fun of it, killed them, but never had he heard of one that ate them. He couldn't help but be proud of her though. "I see." He pressed his nose to her forehead, as he had that night. "If you ever need assistance you can call me." She had made the same offer to him once, when they had first met. Now he made it to her, though for different reasons.
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500+
The wind was cool, coming in from the ocean and pushing aside the heat of the sand, and for a moment the wind picked up, moving the feather in her hair and the fur upon her body. But the warmth and proximity of Onus kept the still chilled air at bay. A soft sigh of contentment escaped her as she moved a little closer, if that were even possible. The words he spoke in reply were answered by a simple, understanding silence and a imperceptible nod. The black fae remembered her own foolish impatience when she had tried to shift down after several weeks, thinking that it would have been long enough; it had not been, and the careful stitching of Bane Kiles had been undone. The places were the wound had reopened were somewhat noticeable, the lines marred and not smooth. But it had been the first time that she had been wounded to such an extent, and it was something that she could only learn from. Onus was more experienced, and she did not doubt that his knowledge of such things was more complete than her own.
A light smile touched her maw; only he could understand so acutely. But she did not think that that excused it—she could not be so busy that a simple hour could not be spared. Soon he would return to his work of purging the world of criminals, and time would be scarcer. "I’m glad that you came today," the soft alto said suddenly before she could think to remain silent. The warrior was a simple creature. Her life was composed of securing her pack, a thing that had been heightened due to the increase of pups. She fought when she had to, and even when she could. But when there were no battles with which to be presented, when she walked within and near the packlands, she could enjoy the simplicity of nature and life. She could contemplate, and she had contemplated much upon that night with Onus. Often her thoughts had come across the man before they shyly moved on—only to return. She rested her head upon his good shoulder, the white orbs staring out into the land about them, enjoying for once this part of life.
"I will," she said with a certainty, smiling as she remembered her own offer to him; she did not doubt that she would require his aid in the near future. The hand that held his shoulder released it, but it slid beneath his coat to run through his fur along his ribs and finally to his back. As he pressed his nose to her head, she looked up at him, the white orbs dancing with a quiet delight as her fingers explored one of his many long forgotten scars. Her woad bound maw had brushed against his neck as she moved in a tentative, yet affectionate manner. "Will you stay with me today?" She did not know what it was that he did with his free time, and, while she had no doubt that he had had his share of idleness, she hoped that he could spend this time with her. Perhaps there would be more....
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As vexing as this injury had been, it had actually brought some good to his life. She had been the one to find him and bring him to help. And then that night between them had occurred. He could still feel the shock that had run through him when she had kissed him. That had been so unexpected. Really everything about that night had been. He couldn't remember if there had ever been another instance where he had removed his eyewrap for someone. No, there hadn't been. Everyone was afraid of those dark pools that lingered behind the mask, even she had for a few moments. Yet she had overcome it and they had connected on a level that he had never connected with anyone before.
The warmth in his chest grew even more at her words. Onus had also been afraid things might have changed for her since that night. That she had decided it had been some sort of fluke. He wouldn't have minded staying in a platonic friendship with her, but to know that she also had those feelings reassured him. As her mind had thought about him, so had his thought of her. Healing alone in the city had given the man much more idle time than he was used to. When he had nothing to do with his body, he retreated into the comfort of his mind. He had even taken up reading a few books to help pass the time. But at night when he would lay down to sleep his side felt empty and cold without her presence. In his dreams many times he had pictured her beautiful, serene face.
Onus squeezed her hand, glad that she would be willing to accept his help if she ever needed it. Now that he had someone that he felt close to the thought of losing her made his chest ache. He was thankful that she was such a proficient warrior. The presence of Corvus in the lands made him even more on edge now however. There was more to fight for than just good and justice in that battle now. He would fight for her, to keep her safe and rid her life of the nightmares he inflicted upon her. Cwmfen's hand under his coat and the way her nose brushed against his neck made his skin tingle. Veiled eyes looked down into her's at her question. He had hoped that she would have some time to spend with him, the whole day was more than he had hoped for. "Yes. I would like that." His tail slowly flicked at his heels, the first time he recalled it moving in such a manor.
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500+
A warm smile graced her maw as he replied, but the smile that was held within those white orbs was stronger, dancing like the white fire of a star. And then she was silent, allowing her head to once more rest upon his shoulder and chest. And as she was silent, she struggled with the emotion that seemed to burst within her like an uncontainable excitement, unable to put a name to it, able only to see the colours it created in her mind. The sound of his breathing, the sound of his soul, melded into those colours, becoming the source. And so she became reluctant to pull herself away, to take that proximity and put a distance between them. And yet finally, with what appeared to be effortless grace, the black warrior slowly took a step back, gently creating that distance. But it was not a distance tat was being created because she no longer desired to be at his side. And she smiled up at him once more, her hand still clasped in his and remembering that small squeeze.
She continued to step back even as she retained that grip, her tail waving once behind her in an almost playful fashion. "Come," that soft melody invited. She lead him along the soft sands, her progress only marginally slowed by the malleable surface beneath her feet. The sands whispered quietly in their passing, forgotten for the incessant sigh of the sea. The white orbs looked out into that brighter world (and the world did seem brighter by these old waters) listening to the song that the world sang to her soul. As she moved with that grace her father had given to her, the black, woad tipped tail moved behind her, keeping her balance in the way for which it was made. Once she looked back at the male, wondering suddenly if his name was simply ‘Onus’ or if he had another name like so many others had. With that thought she turned back, the eyes searching the shore for her destination.
It was a cave that suddenly rose up along the shore, fitted into the cliffs that likewise appeared. The stone was dark as if ever quenched by the sea spray, and yet there were places that were bleached white by the sun, no doubt of a different mineral. The air of the cave was cool, breathing softly and yet without the stale air of many other caves. She had only been here a few times on her own, encouraged by her first encounter with a cave within the Dahlian packlands. Then, Sankor had shown her what was in a cave, and now she had found her own. Occassionally, as was seen as she stepped upon the cool stone, she had brought old weapons that had been found in the city and the pelts of animals that she had hunted, knowing that others liked to sleep on them. The book that Cercelee had given her even sat near the back, alone and untouched save for by her eyes, for she knew not how to read what was within it. But it was not these things which was most exciting for the warrior; it was the dark cave within, the tunnels that burrowed deep and remained unexplored, even by herself. The white orbs turned to Onus. "I thought that perhaps we could explore a different world," she said with a light smile, that alto melody holding a silent question. The caves, because the air was fresh, would lead back to another shore if they chose the correct path.
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The light he saw dancing in her eyes made the corners of his mouth tug upwards even more. Someone unaccustomed to him still would have had to look to find the smile, but she knew it was there and would know that it had grown. As she rested her head against him again his free hand move to gently brush against the hair at the back of her head. The sound of her breathing and the sound of the waves mixed in his ears and created one of the most soothing noises the man had ever heard. He couldn't imagine wanting to be anywhere else at this moment. All of his emotions and thoughts swirled around her and her scent overtook his nose with only the lightest hint of the cool sea breeze.
Then she took some steps away, though their hands remained clasped. Onus said nothing in response, but his feet began to follow, the subtle smile still on his face. It was clear she had some particular destination in mind and he watched the woad woman with interest as they walked over the warm sands of the beach. Every movement of her's was made with such grace, he had never seen anyone move as she did. It added to all of the mystique that seemed to radiate from her. For a moment he wondered if every wolf where she came from was like her. Quickly that thought was dismissed. There was no one like Cwmfen, he knew that deep down. For no one else could do to him what she did.
She lead them into a cave that was nestled in between the cliffs by the ocean. Onus had been inside a few caves before, though none quite like this. The caves he had entered had stagnant and musty air inside. A scent that wasn't exactly harsh on the nose, but most definitely not pleasant either. But clean, fresh air ran through this cave. Looking around he noticed a few trinkets that she must have collected and put here. Some weapons, a few pelts, and a lone book. Curious, he tried to make out the title, but his head turned back to her as her sweet voice spoke again. The man looked into the tunnels ahead and then back into her eyes. "Sure," he said. His tones had a lighter and less rough quality about them as he spoke with her.
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700+
The coyote’s gaze had noticed the book, and in turn the woman noticed that it was this that had caught his attention longest. For a moment the woman also watched it as if one might watch a prey animal; she could not read it, but there had been occasional images within the book. Many of them had reminded her of her own Caledonia, and she knew that it must discuss the aspects of her culture. At times she would simply stare at those pictures, remembering her mother, or what little she did remember of her. Graine, who had given to her the markings of woad upon her body, had been to Cwmfen the spirit of that land. Quietly, she looked up to Onus. "If you wish, I can lend you that book," the soft melody offered. "The leader of my pack gave that book to me as a gift, and though I cannot read it, the images were interesting." She could give the book to him later if he so desired; she kept it within the cave to keep it from being destroyed—such a gift must be preciously kept. And perhaps it would give her an excuse to go to the city to see him.
The black fae had thought that the cave would prove to be suitable and perhaps preferable to the masked coyote, as he was a creature who traveled also in the city’s nighttime world. But she had also not yet explored a great extent of these caves, and she thought, being a creature who lived with symbols, that the exploration of something unfamiliar was acutely appropriate, as both now explored these new emotions. Normally, Cwmfen would have kept to herself, would have kept to the solitude in which she lived. Yet, she wanted to share this with the man that stood before her. It would not be the martial world with which they were both familiar. Cwmfen smiled as he agreed, his gruff voice somehow softer. She let that sound fade into the silence of the cave, interrupted only by the rhythmic sigh of the sea. The woman liked to listen to that voice, so contrasting to her own. Even their eyes held the opposite shade, and such a thing had never been lost upon the warrior.
Silently, she turned to look into the darkness of the cave before leading him into it. As she walked, her claws occasionally clicked upon the surface. Suddenly she realized that, although they had not gone far within the network of underground tunnels, the sound of the ocean had ceased to be a presence. For a while, she walked in silence, falling back to walk abreast the coyote when the passages would allow them to do so. The soft sound of dripping irregularly broke the silence and occasionally she heard the sound of things—bats and mice, most likely, but soon that too disappeared. So far, the stone remained relatively dry. But the darkness was so complete that she could not see Onus beside her. Her progress slowed as she relied upon touch, for sound grew too confusing in the echoing caves. Suddenly, ahead, a filtered light lit the darkness, though she knew not from where the source came. While it had seemed like a great while, the woman did not think that more than five or ten minutes had passed.
She paused, turning back to Onus. It looked as if the woad warrior wished to speak, but for a moment she was silent. "I think," the alto melody said suddenly at length, her voice echoing against the walls of the rotunda in which they had entered. "I think that I had always been drawn to you—from the moment we met," she clarified quickly. For a moment she fell silent again, reaching out to grasp his had once more. Her gaze lingered upon their hands, as if she were too shy, unable to lift her gaze. "You can never truly know another until you fight them," the soft melody continued quietly. Then, with a great effort, that gaze was lifted to seek those covered eyes. There was so much danger within this man, this man who lived to kill those who created injustice, who killed them with his bare hands. And yet, were they so different...? She too killed, and she killed with her jaws or with a blow powerful enough to break the life within the body; occasionally a weapon was utilized. And yet what made her feel so different, so distanced from him? And yet...she was so greatly drawn to him. "I just wanted to let you know." Content, or perhaps afraid and embarrassed, she turned away as if to continue down the dark path ahead.
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Onus didn't read as much as he once had. A long time ago, after he had left the man who had saved him and nursed him back to health and before he had discovered his purpose books had been the only thing to keep him company. He had had no one to talk to, he was even fearful of the company of others. That had been before he started covering his eyes and most met him with fear and hostility. So he had resorted to books to keep his mind sharp and to distract from his unhappy situation. He had learned much from those early days. "I don't need it. There are plenty in the city." She didn't have to lend him her possession. The city was often scavenged for such things and he couldn't carry it with him. "I could read you some of it sometime. If you wanted." He'd never actually read to anyone, but he would for her.
The two canines were opposites in many respects. It was clear she was a child of the natural world. Preferring the serenity of a forest to the cold concrete of a city. Where as he had grown up in the city and emulated humans in many ways, never shifting out of his two-legged form and wearing their clothes. Where she had grace, he had roughness. Her eyes held light while his were dark. Yet they shared many things as well, at least it seemed to him. They were both creatures of the martial world. While she was not nearly as bad as he was, it seemed they had some of the same social inabilities. And the interactions that they were sharing were completely new and different to both of them.
He followed Cwmfen into the cave system, his ears flicking to catch the various noises that bounced from the floor and walls. As it grew darker and darker his hand reached for the wall and he took careful steps to make sure not to slip or twist an ankle. The last thing he needed was another injury that would disable him even further. But then some light reached through the blackness, silhouetting her figure in front of him. When she turned back to him he watched her carefully. He sensed a hesitance in her and he wondered what had spawned it. That draw she felt had been true for him as well. He had never met anyone like her before. He had never even sparred with another before. It had been a unique encounter. "I think I was too." The feelings may have been minuscule then, and hard to detect, but something had been there from the start. As she took his hand he rubbed her hand with his thumb, trying to reassure her. Though reassure her of what he wasn't certain.
Onus wondered what was going on in that mind of her's. It seemed to him that something was bothering her. As she turned to start their trek again his hand lightly fell on her shoulder. "Cwmfen." Was this hesitance about him? If she didn't want to get too involved with someone who lived their life in the way that he did then he wouldn't blame her. It wasn't easy, he knew that. But if that were the case he wanted to know now before things became more serious. "Is something wrong?" Is it me?
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500+
Cwmfen offered him a soft smile. Perhaps they both had. Just as scents were used in communication, just as scents betrayed the mental and physical states, perhaps the chemistry of the mind affected another. Perhaps in the dark recesses of her heart were solitude reigned, there sought to be something. Where solitude allowed her to thrive, to become successfully distant from those she would save and from those she would kill, there was a silent desire for something more. That desire had first been sparked upon her Long Nights. But since the night she had found the male dying in the rain, it had blossomed like a midnight flower, opening its secret petals to the darkness without. And in his presence that nocturnal flower suddenly opened, exposed to him. And yet, the flower recoiled, not afraid of him but of something else. All these emotions overwhelmed her, all these ideas so new and unfamiliar. She did not know how to handle this new thing. Those simple nights of desire required nothing, lingering in her mind with the intrigue of the dark. But this was not something like that, and there had been no such night.
Then he called her by name, and she stopped, captivated by that sound. His gentle touch caused her to turn back, and those white orbs sought his face. She was silent, silent like the darkness and like the cave, becoming a part of it until he pulled her out with his voice. "No." Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper. "Nothing’s wrong." And that was the thing: nothing was wrong. For a moment, she wondered at her own behavior. Why was she acting this way. For a moment she leaned against the wall, relieving herself of a sigh not of exasperation but of wonder. The white orbs moved from him to the light that filtered through the darkness of the cave like gold. She was silent for a moment as she leaned her head back, closing her eyes to listen to the soft humming of the cave, of her heart. For a moment, her mind was in turmoil, and with those closed eyes she sought the source. The black fae was calm, her breathing steady. And soon her mind was calm also, still and untroubled.
At length the woman opened her eyes and turned back to Onus. "All things begin and end, and good things aren’t meant to last," the soft melody said at length. Was she afraid of loss? Of Death? She did not thing so.... Those white orbs turned back to the light above them. "Even in peace we must remember war..." Her voice was quiet, not quite a whisper and yet barely discernable from the silence. Once more the warrior attempted to explain such amorous matters through the sayings of war, through its rules and limits, through tactic. "I Dreamt last night of you and Ravens. There was so much blackness that I could not see...." And it was as if now she struggled to see past the darkness of the caves. "There was blood—I could smell it all around. But I could not see the end." She turned back to look at him, but she was not afraid or said, simply uncertain. But she knew that she could not see the end because she did not yet understand. And perhaps she was being needlessly hesitant, but she wished that she could see the field upon which she now tread.
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He continued to watch her, curious, and his ears strained to catch her words. Even in the dead silence of the tunnel how soft her voice had become made it hard to hear. He believed her when she said that nothing was wrong, but something wasn't entirely right either. The man was acute to changes in other's moods and she had gone from seemingly fine to suddenly distant and cryptic. Whatever had brought on this change was running through her head, but he still thought it must have something to do with him. Perhaps not in his current actions or words, but something deeper. Something about the situation had made her take a step back, and he did not wish to continue until things were clear.
If any remnants had been left, his smile quickly disappeared now. His mouth returning to the straight line that showed neither pleasure nor displeasure. It was only a void, neutral. The warmth that had settled into his chest cooled as if someone had blown out a candle. Onus knew that nothing was meant to last. He had learned that lesson early on in his life. His childhood had been snuffed out before it had even gotten a chance to truly breathe. Ever since then his life had been his mission. His mind and heart were distant. Distant to allow him to do his work and to protect himself from those he tried to protect. He was not a man for dreams, but he knew what she thought her vision had meant. She thought he was going to die. Perhaps he was. Perhaps when he faced her father again he would not once again escape with his life. Maybe it would be someone else to end his life.
Onus didn't fear death though. He knew that eventually it would come for him and his mission would be ended. It came for all things. It was just the manner and time that differed. Still, his chances of perishing at the hands of another were much greater than that of most. "If you wish to distance yourself I understand." The coyote was not selfish. If she wanted to end things here to protect herself, then that would be that. There was a tiny flicker inside of him that wished that she would not want such things, but it would be easily extinguished if it needed to be.
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EDIT: Her fight with Brennt left her with a lot more scars that I had initially planned, ^=^;; So she has some light ones on her face and heavier ones upon her neck, if that changes anything, ^=^;;
500+
The woman was silent, responding with nothing, simply watching him as he spoke. She had seen that quiet smile fade from his lips, and her own mouth was still, a harsh line upon her face. The Raven Dreamer wondered if he had understood what she meant—this Dream had not been about her. Or perhaps he knew that. Suddenly, a soft smile broke that harsh line upon her lips, and her gaze fell to the earth. Only he would say such a thing, could be so selfless. When her gaze lifted, the smile had faded, but it was not entirely gone. "I don’t want to get in your way," the soft voice said, but it was not in reply to the coyote’s statement. In her Dream, Onus had been fighting not her but her father, the crow wolf. And yet the blood had been on her hands; while she had not seen herself within the Dream, she knew that the blood had been there. Even upon waking her hands had been hot. But what did it mean? She was not sure.
She did not want to distance herself, and yet her Dreams had warned her. But should she not be able to experience such a thing? Or was it not permitted to her? Fate would not allow her to know and she did not try—it was not her place to know. What she did know, however, was that she desired to be at his side, for there to be trust, for there to be loyalty. For there to be Love. The white eyes were steady as the smile faded from her maw. But did he want that distance? She already knew that she may have been allowing a dangerous thing for the vigilante, and she did not want to create for him an attachment that would only be a hindrance. She did not want to be that hindrance. Still leaning against the wall of the cave, the woman suddenly broke the silence, her voice calm and certain. "Kiss me." The white orbs watched him slowly as if in challenge, but she was not teasing him. This was not a game.
She waited in the silence, unwilling to admit that he may refuse her. "I need to know." She needed to know if he loved her, if he desired her. Words would do nothing—words were a quagmire that devoured meaning. But action, touch, was different. There was much that a single touch could tell. And the warrior had told him that one could not fully know another until they fought. The contact, the way in which the mind worked, all revealed the intent of the other. And a kiss would be appropriate; it was something lovers did, and she would be able to know. And a kiss would have to suffice, for she knew that he would not desire her physically, and perhaps he never would. But that did not matter to the woman. What did matter to her was this man, this quiet killer, this knight of Justice.
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[html] http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee19 ... ppachi.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> Oh noes! Well, he might have been a little more concerned, but since we've already progressed this far maybe just from now on act that he had been more concerned? XD
He watched her intently, still curious as to what was going on through her thoughts. Some people were harder to read than others, and she was definitely one of them. A bit of an enigma. But that was part of the reason that he was so drawn to her. To him so many were so simple and predictable. He could easily read their actions and what was going on behind their eyes. Maybe it was because he found criminals so simple. He barely ever tried to read those that he did not suspect, or at least not so deeply. "It'd be easy to avoid." That's what he believed anyway. All she had to do was not do anything corrupt or evil and not to get in his way of fighting those who did. That would be simple, would it not? She didn't seem the type to engage in those activities.
Onus knew that getting attached to her had potential problems, but for once he was willing to risk that. Didn't even someone so devoted to a cause as him deserve at least some small measure of peace? Of contentment? While he had never allowed himself to hope or wish for such things, now that it was so close he wanted it. Maybe he would not be permitted to keep it forever, but for a moment in time perhaps he would be allowed some happiness. Some fulfillment aside from his endless task. At her request his ears strained forward, but he did not balk. He saw how serious she was about this. This could be their moment of sink or swim.
The coyote knew how much truer than words actions could be, so he sensed what she wanted from this. He paused for only a moment. What if he could not satisfy her? But he did not want to lose her and what was between them. Not here, not now. Quickly he stepped forward, executing the space between them with preciseness. He pressed his lips against her's and one hand went to softly touch her neck, feeling the scars there. His other arm reached around her back, drawing her close. Just because he had at the time felt no desire for her body in intimate ways did not mean that such things did not exist in the man. It was just something that had been suppressed. He had felt a stirring aside from in his heart that night and he felt something similar now as he tasted her again. The flame had lit in his chest again, stronger than before.
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Hahah, that’s fine with me, ^=^
500+
The woman had offered a faint smile; she hope that were so. She hoped that she would not hinder him. While she was accustom to integrating into her plans those that she cared for, as the entirety of her pack was under her protection, she did not think that the coyote was. When she had kissed him that night, his response had been one of surprise, and his kiss in return had been simple—almost inexperienced (though not unpleasant, she thought with a smile). The woman wondered if he had ever allowed such emotions into his life. What she knew was that he was truly a lone creature, and he fought removed from his enemies. The whole world was under his protection—the innocent, at least—and he would not have sought to make that personal connection with the innocent. But then... did that make this emotion any more dangerous? Was his situation truly that different from her own, truly that unreceptive?
He responded promptly, waiting only briefly before her swiftly closed the distance between them. He kissed her, that kiss given without hesitation. For a moment the woman held back as if unwilling to accept that this was real, that the passion and desire within that kiss were real. As he pulled her to him, pulled her from the rock upon which she had been leaning, and she finally closed her eyes, kissing him back with her unrestrained passion. The woad bound fingers gripped the lapels of his coat as she pulled herself closer, intent upon completely eliminating what space was left between them. For that kiss, for his embrace, for the pounding of his heart, a wild desire rose up within her body like a dead tree suddenly ignited, rising up to her heart, quickening her pulse. The warrior leaned into that kiss; she wanted to let him know that she did love him, that she did not want to distance herself. She wanted to remain with him, and finally she understood love. She understood it all.
Cwmfen was drowning in him, succumbing to that fire within her that had been ignited by his own hands. For once she almost fell out of control, but before she could she broke the kiss as gently but as quickly as she could. She panted quietly for a moment as she pushed her muzzle against his neck and collar, her hands releasing his coat and going about his bare body. The woman was used to satisfying her desires, however few such occasions had been, but she didn’t want to force them upon him. But in all sincerity, the desire had never been so strong. Where she had never lost the control of her mind, she had almost done so now. For a moment, she simply breathed in his scent, calming the wild beating of her heart as best as she could. "I’m in love with you, Onus," the quiet melody whispered, her body still against his. "I don’t want to throw that away." She had discovered something so beautiful with him, and perhaps it would be allowed to persist.
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The feelings he had felt that night were beginning to overload him. For once, his logical side was yielding to the powers of his emotions. It had happened that first night to some extent, but when that kiss had been broken and the calmness had settled in over both of them that had cooled. Now though, now it was heating up. At first she didn't respond to him physically and he was preparing to back away, but then she grabbed the collar of his coat and those passions ran through him. They heated his blood and where their bodies touched it seemed to him that his skin felt aflame. Yet it did not consume him, at least not in the conventional sense.
It was if he could not have her close enough. The arm that was wrapped around her back held her as tight as he could without bringing her discomfort. It was not a possessive action on his part, simply him showing how he felt. How much he cared for her and how much he did want her. Onus did want her. Wanted her more than he thought he was capable of wanting something or someone. Their contact and their kiss made his heart beat rapidly in his chest. His blood flowed quickly, spreading that dormant passion to every cell.
Then suddenly she broken the kiss and buried her nose against his neck. The man's breathe sucked in as their mouths disconnected, as if he had just come up for air. Her panting filled his ears and his own breathing was more labored than usual. His well toned muscles were tensed beneath his skin, filled with an energy he had never felt before. Cwmfen's words filled his chest and he breathed in deeply. "I'm in love with you too Cwmfen." With the powers of his emotions flooding through him the words came easy, there was no pause or hesitation. The hand that had been on her neck moved to undo the knot in his eyewrap. She deserved to see them in this moment. Gently he used that hand to bring her face to his, though he did not move to kiss her again. "From what I know of this, which is not much, is that this is embracing love not throwing it away."
This was unknown territory, and it did make him nervous. But he did love her. And he knew that he would never be able to devote himself completely to her. If she was willing to accept that then he would not deny her anything else. If she wanted this, he would do his best (inexperienced as he was) to show her that he loved in in the physical way. He wanted to, for her. Onus made no move to continue, his arm on her back was now light against her, no force pressing her to him. The decision was her's.
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500+
Burying her nose into his neck had not necessarily been a wise move—while she was not in the grips of that intoxicating kiss, she now breathed in his scent. His body had heated, allowing that scent to flow freely into her, effectively subduing the resistance she sought to keep in place. And yet she did not move away, allowing him to unravel her, to lay bare her mind. In the brief silence that followed her words, the black fae realized that the pounding of her chest was not alone, that his heart was beating just as hard. The muscles beneath her hands were tensed, and her fingers pushed into his fur, feeling the hot fire of his skin singe her fingers. The sent of the coyote, the scent that lay upon his skin and the scent that was released through chemical reactions within the body, overwhelmed the woman, washing over her in a wave of heat, wrapping about her mind with ease as her own body involuntarily responded.
Her heart skipped a beat as he reciprocated her feelings. The slender fingers closed into a fist, tugging at the fur as she held onto him. The woad warrior closed her eyes for a brief moment to try to calm herself. It seemed, however, that that brief moment had lasted marginally longer than she had intended, for already his hand had left her neck and brought her face to see his. Onus’ eyes were unveiled, those black eyes like the night sky and somehow bright in the darkness. The white orbs stared into those orbs, stared into his soul. Once more she listened to that voice as he spoke once more, delighting in that solitary sound. She brought herself closer, the woman’s soft, black nose brushing against his, their breaths intermingling in the space between them. For a moment, those orbs lingered upon that space before lifting to the oppositely hued eyes of the man she loved, of the man who loved her.
"Then let us embrace it." Those whispered words were spoken in challenge before she kissed him, that kiss slow and gentle but not without the passion that surely flowed freely in the woman’s body. She did not want to restrain those desires any longer, she wanted the male to show her and allow her to show him. Those hands released their grasp within his fur as the came around to his chest once more, those fingers exploring the soft scars upon his body as she moved her arms to wrap about his neck, gently mindful of the wound that continued to heal there. The black fae, in contrast to the male, was relaxed. With her proximity and with her occupied arms, she left the rest of her body for the male, for him to take and make his. And while her movements remained slow and unhurried, her heartbeat gradually became a steady, rapid beat. For a moment longer she held her gaze upon those eyes, a flickering flame within those depths until she closed them like a secret waiting to be unlocked.
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