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"She's a wild heart"
Svara rested her head on her knees as she looked at the water. The sea at at the shore, licking at the sands as it came and went. The healer had grown acustom to sitting in the hot sands and watching the water. It gave her time to think about everything that was going on. She closed her yellow eyes, even though only one was used to see, she acted as if both of them were perfect. Her long red hair was down today and hanging down her back perfectly straight. Her thoughts went around Jacquez and his nature, a smile came to her features as she thought about the egotistical male.
Thoughts about Dhalia entered her mind and she ground her teeth. It was hard to think of her old pack with out feeling a flood of emotions. It was to many to harbor at once. Ever since she had gained her memory back she wondered what Haku had told the pack. What lies had he basked them in? Svara didn't really care, let them think she was the bad guy. They were all ignorant fools to believe his lies. Cercelee herself had said he was a monster, but it was she who listened to it as it breathed down her neck.
It wasn't Cercelee that really bothered her. The white she wolf had always been an idiot in Svara's eyes. It was the Adonis Cwmfen, she was the one that had broken her heart. The constable growled as she got to her feet. No amount of watching the water could make her forget the feeling of hate she had for the sable women. Not after the way she had treated her that day. What she gave Cercelee it wasn't loyalty, it was blind determination to not be weak. That women would throw a loyal friend away if Cercelee told her to. What a fool.
Walking down the sandy beach the she wolf trailed her hands down the many gashes, cuts, and words that now adored her flesh. She could help but admit she looked like crap. It would be weeks before the fur covered many of the smaller wounds, and the gashes became scars. Weather or not the word "whore" would ever go away was beyond her. Svara really didn't care anymore. She had what she wanted, she didn't need the blasted fur to grow back, since the scar made her look all the more unapproachable.
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Could we have this dated for the 14th so that it doesn’t conflict with Cwmfen’s Anu thread? Oh, and this is assuming that Cwmfen still thinks that she has lost her memory.
500+
The warrior walked silently along the beaches. Her mind moved swiftly. Her hunt for those two wolves was never ending, and it would never end until they were dead—or until she was dead. The warrior had a duty to her pack, and she knew that she must protect them. As she had always believed, she knew that she could lay down her life where it was necessary, to fight and die where others could not. And the search to that end, or perhaps to a life in which her protection had been complete, had brought her to this beach. She did not expect either Corvus or Brennt to be upon these beaches, but one could never be too sure. Brennt she felt would never be here; the ocean provided a barrier should he be forced back to it, but the waters would be his death and the yellow-eyed predator would not have been able to escape. For Corvus, she felt that the forests were more suiting with their shade, with their perpetual darkness. But the woman walked upon these shores regardless, her movements fluid as she listened to the incessant whispering of the sea. That sound of eternity ever intrigued the woman, but she never desired the obtaining of eternity that her father did.
The pied Raven flew above her, calling to her in its rough song. The warrior’s soul was at ease, remembering that it had been near the ocean that Onus had first taken her completely. That memory seemed so distant and yet so near, and it was as if the incessant susurrus of the sea had caught it in that web of timeless eternity. And although much time had passed since she had last seen her lover, the woman’s heart was at ease. She had asked of him only for that one night several weeks ago, and he had given that to her. That had been enough, and would be enough. She knew that the time to face her father had grown near; it would not be long until she defeated him or was defeated by him. The Fates knew that path, and the Raven Dreamer knew that her path had been set long ago, even before the moment of her conception. Her trust within the Morrigan was enough for the Warrior of Caledonia.
The woman paused, her white orbs lifting as she ceased in her movements. There, ahead of her, was a familiar personality. More scars adorned the body of that girl she knew well, but the same could be said of herself. The shortened tail—so similar now to Haku’s—and the words upon the girl’s body were not missed by the warrior’s scrutiny. It was a shame that such a fate had befallen the girl. It was a shame that she would never learn. "Svara," the alto melody greeted with a slight dip of her maw. This volatile girl was a subleader of the new pack—what possessed the one-armed dog to allow such a creature to be raised to such a rank escaped the warrior. It was neither dignified nor stable. "I hope that you’re doing better than when I had last heard of you." For some reason, the warrior continued to extend the friendship that had long been discarded by Svara. Perhaps it was due to inter-pack relations, or perhaps the warrior’s diluted emotions did not allow anger to linger for long. And yet, she was still wary—this female was now considered an official threat to the pack because she had attacked Haku. The warrior would have to be careful when interacting with such individuals—why she even chose to do her now was not quite known.
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"She's a wild heart"
She was to lost in thought. So hard Svara was trying to push anger from her system and thing about something other then the wolves of Dhalia. Her mind went to Jac and a easy sigh slipped past her maw. At least she had her pack to think about. A grin slipped onto her face as she thought about Haven and his valor. She wasn't the best example of the pack, not that she carred much. Foot after foot stepped into the sands, heated from the sun. Right now the ball of fire was licking the horizen, threatening to give to night. Svara was starting to hate night. Seeing wasn't her best thing to begin with, but take out the light it was horrible. At that point she would just cover her eyes and use her nose and ears to lead her home. At least she was better of then ruri.
Her name left anothers lips. It made her stop suddenly in the sands and look over her shoulder with narrowed yellow eyes. The sable women stood there with her blue markings and white eyes. That damned bird flew above where it couldn't be reached. Turning around completly the constable let her eyes releave their stressed stare and she approach the ignorant women. Her words were fake, Svara knew that much. How could the great Cwmfen Nic Graine care? "I don't know Adonis, why don't you use your eyes and look at me. Do I look so well?" The red she wolf said in a cool and calm voice. It was best that she saw the women. She had to start somewhere and find the root of Haku's lies.
Flipping her long hair over her shoulder in an arrogant manner, that was more for show then anything Svara sat down on the sandy beach. "If your going to act all nice and stuff then sit down so I don't have to waste my energy." She said in the same cool husky voice like before. Of course she was angry at the women, but she didn't feel the need to express the anger to her. The black female didn't get it anyways. Picking up a shell the healer fiddled with it in her hands. "What did he tell you happened?" It was a simple question and Svara knew Cwmfen was smart enough to catch on who "he" was. So she waited.
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500+
The use of her name caused the earth hued female to stop. The white gaze met the yellow eyes as she turned to look at her, meeting them easily but without challenge or aggression. Her gaze was held with the knowledge that she was a warrior, and that she lived to fight and would fight the other if an attack was made. To fight battles was the simple purpose of existence. The Caledonian-Korean was a simple wolf, and she did not seek to change that. "You’re alive—is that not well enough," the quiet voice countered. The black female was a warrior, walking with death always at her heels. To simply be alive to fight another day was already enough. Svara was not a warrior, but her needlessly aggressive behavior called for attack—surely the many scars that now covered her body had told her enough. If simply to be alive was not enough, if life needed something more than simply living, she should have changed her ways. And it was not too late for the girl to do such a thing. It was never too late until one was dead.
"We do not have to be hostile," the quiet melody agreed, those silver tones dancing upon the air. "A warrior does not fight every enemy or every battle that is presented." Her words were spoke as if to reassure the girl that she would not do her any harm, at least not this day. Silently, gracefully, the woman sat, her feather fluttering in the saline air of the sea. Quietly, with only a soft whisper of his wings, the pied Raven came from the heavens, landing upon the Dreamer’s shoulder. His one eye turned toward the young woman of Cour des Miracles, that flat, inky gaze unnervingly empty and cold. His beak clicked quietly near the woad warrior’s ear as if he discussed something with her. The woman’s white eyes considered the other, the woad bound ears relaxed as she sat there in the sands that were still warm from the day’s sun. The girl’s behavior was uncharacteristically reserved, and the warrior expected some sort of question to be raised.
The question that was raised did not surprise the woman. "He told us that you attacked him—there was bit upon his neck." Her reply was as blunt and as to the point as Svara’s question had been. The white eyes watched the other carefully, though not for an attack as much for an emotional response. "A female had to support him upon his return to Dahlia—she claimed to have seen everything that happened." There was a slight pause before the woman continued. "He told us that he got carried away—I heard the details from Firefly and Jacquez." Haku had raped her, had nearly killed her, had torn that word, apparently spelling ‘whore’, upon her body (but Cwmfen couldn’t read). These things were not uncharacteristic of Haku’s behavior, and although he had done so he had been provoked. Furthurmore, the attack had been made before the pack had been formed—no pack’s scent had been found upon her, according to Haku, and so the packs’ tension should not exist.
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"She's a wild heart"
The sand was cool behind her. Her yellow eyes didn't look at the other women, she only watched the sun sink making the waters bleed with its red light. Some part of her wondered if she wanted to know what Haku had told them. It wouldn't matter, because as of now she was their enemy, and rightfully they were hers. Cwmfen was the only one she had hoped would think above the brown males lies, but sometimes you couldn't get what you want. Closing her eyes she drew one leg up and rested her arm on her knee. Lies weren't hard to come by, or to fabercate, expecially if you were Haku Soul.
"Of course not Cwmfen." Svara said absently as the women sat down. Yet again the sable women was seeking some kind of truce, one that Svara didn't have it in her to give. How could she? Her whole life had been based on no forgivness, and the women had proven that it wasn't even worth trying. It wasn't long before her question was answered. The sand seemed hotter and her stomach dropped as bile rose in her throat. God she hated that bastard for this.
Letting her yellow eyes drift over to the women Svara gave her a look that was close to empty. "Do you believe him because you think it's true, or because it's your posistion to?" The red she wolf asked watching the blue marked she wolf carefully. What did she expect her to say? Cwmfen would say the sky was purple is Haku or Cercelee told her to. A puppet was all she was to those to beasts. If Svara had it her way she would end this worthless game. It was the Adonis's next statement that made her get up and rush to the water before heaving. She hadn't talked about what had happened since it happened. A part of her had locked it away most of the event.
Kneeling now in the waters her stomach empty she felt far from embarrssed. It wasn't like Cwmfen hadn't seen her at her worst. Taking up salt water into her mouth she spat out the horrible taste from her mouth. Looking over her shoulder at the other women she felt a need to just walk away. Let her keep thinking what she was told. How could anyone believe that someone watched him do that to her? How could they not care? Svara got up before she could vomit again.
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500+
The woman watched the other, an emotion she both recognized and did not crossing the young woman’s eyes. She could not quite recognize it for its intensity—the only intense emotion that the woad warrior had felt was passion, and now she had felt love. But even fear hadn’t been as intense as the emotions that always seemed to have a hold upon the girl. She could feel that the Constable of Cour des Miracles was playing a game, setting up a test. The warrior did not concern herself with such games or test. And she was silent as the girl was silent, and she told as the girl listened. And then, in the silence, there was only the soft breathing of the one-eyed bird.
"Honestly," the woman replied, that melody quiet, almost gentle, "I don’t know." The warrior had never pretended to presume to know everything. Indeed, it was not her place to know everything. She would know what she must when she must, and that was all. She knew only what the Fates and the Morrigan allowed her to know. "He has been the only one who has given any sort of evidence beyond his own word," the woman replied, and there was a pause. "And your lost memory serves you no purpose." But this had been the first time that she had voiced such doubt upon the subject; while she had exchanged a few brief glances between Cercelee at Haku’s declaration, her inability to ascertain the truth had not been made known. "You have always had the ability to call trouble upon yourself," the woman continued. "And Haku..." The sung words ceased. "But he seems... different somehow." For some reason, the woman did not have trouble speaking of such a thing to the girl, even if she was now a clear enemy of Dahlia de Mai.
Suddenly the girl rose, rushing to the waters as she emptied the contents of her bowels. This sudden manifestation of Svara’s disgust and sickness brought a mild surprise to the woman—she did not doubt that her experience had been traumatic; she had been a child born of rape, and her father had raped her not long ago. He sought to take her once more—that day was fast approaching. The woman rose as the girl rinsed her mouth, but she did not close the distance. In times such as these, it was the warrior’s social ineptitudes that made her appear cold and distant—perhaps she was distant, but the warrior did not think of herself as cold. Perhaps she should have offered the girl a gentle touch upon the shoulder, but the yellow-eyed girl had already risen. The pied Raven called thrice from the Dreamer’s shoulder, that harsh voice almost mocking in the silence. "Svara," that alto melody called quietly, gently, as if in question to her wellbeing. It was more than she should have offered the girl—the health of an enemy should have been no concern of her.
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"She's a wild heart"
Her mouth still tasted foul. The taste of vomit was never pleasent, but the bitter taste of the past was worse. Even as she got up to walk, the memories slid in like maggots and reminded her of everything. One touch here, another bite there, her tail leaving her body. The constables legs shook as she took in what Cwmfen had told her. She had caused trouble, but she'd never hurt anyone. For fucks sake she was a healer! The strong walls she put up to protect herself were crumbling quickly, and that was scaring her more then anything else. She couldn't let this women get to her, couldn't let Haku get to her either.
Cwmfen's voice was soft as her name slipped from the other womens lips. Svaras ears twitched and she held her breath for a moment, no tears threatened, tears weren't the worst thing that could happen. It would be giving up, that was always the worst thing. If there was anything the red she wolf had strived to do through her life, it had been not to give up. Taking in a deep breath she turned around and faced the women with the same steel resolve that she'd had before.
"You don't know Cwmfen because you don't trust him. You just won't accept that... you don't trust your lillium." Svara said in her cool husky voice. She knew that this women was not cold. They were a lot alike, but with the way they delt with their lives drove them to different ways of thinking and acting. If only things had been different. With strong yellow eyes Svara stepped up to the sable women ready to tell her side of the story, most likely on deaf ears.
"I tackled him. Weather you believe it was out of malious or not is up to you. He pinned me to the ground. I didn't struggle. He started ripping me apart piece by piece. Through the whole thing, all I could think of was that I could show him I was stronger." Svara ran a hand through her hair. She could feel his hands on her body, breaking the skin. "No one was there Cwmfen. Your Lillium tore me apart because he could." The constable stood strong as she said it to the only Dhalian she trusted even if it was only a little. "I never broke his skin. I never touched him." she said deeply, waiting on this warriors words.
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500+
There was a brief moment in which there was a silence, a stillness. And the warrior was still, unmoving as those white eyes focused upon the girl’s long hair—it had grown significantly since she had been exiled from the Dahlian lands, the woman noticed suddenly. The silence that emanated from the girl was not still, however, as it wavered in the air. But when the girl turned to face her, she had pushed the wavering silence away, replacing it with that harder exterior that was used to protect herself.
The warrior considered Svara’s words for a brief, passing moment. "I trust the Lilium," that quiet melody countered, her voice certain and undoubting as the white orbs met the yellow gaze. "But my trust in Haku is wavering." To the warrior, who could separate her duty so cleanly and distinctly with her personal life, the Lilium and Haku Soul were two separate entities. The Lilium was a leader of her pack, her only superior beneath Cercelee. But Haku Soul...he was a dangerous male. Where once he had been intrigued with her, where once he desired her as he desired no other, where once he had requested friendship from her, now.... Now he had changed. She could not discern in what way, but the woad warrior, the Raven Dreamer and a child of Nemain, had discerned that there had been a change—she could feel it.
With a resolute breath, Svara explained her side of the story. Now it was the warrior’s turn to listen in silence, and she did, standing there before her with the pied Raven perched upon her shoulder, as if she were some manifestation of the Morrigan herself. "You touched him—you tackled him. For Haku, that is enough—do you not know?" The warrior’s quiet melody had taken a harsher tone, though it was not the girl she was irritated with, but what had happened. "You may not have spilt his blood, but you touched him. And that is enough. You gave him what he needed to do what he can." The black warrior new that it was true. Somehow she was compelled to believe the words of this girl, this enemy of Dahlia. There was no clouded uncertainty, no clouded truth or lies within the words that had been spoken. She could feel that much. But these words did not necessarily make Haku’s words false. In a way, Haku had spoken the truth. Who was truly at fault, however, the woman could guess.
"Why must you always prove that you are stronger, Svara? What did that prove here?" The warrior’s melody fell silent as those white orbs watched the girl. Could she just not simply exist, moving through the world as only herself? Why must there be any show of worth? The warrior could not understand—it was foolish. It always had been and always would be. "You have succeeded only in bringing two packs against each other, and Dahlia is greater than Cour des Miracles." The warrior wondered if war would break out, if she would be forced to fight the Knight that she had helped to train. War in this place was more complicated than the wars of her homelands. She knew it.
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"She's a wild heart"
The deaf ears did just as they were always doing. A part of her hoped, wished that Cwmfen wouldn't push the subject. It wasn't the sable womens ways not to. Her heart gripped painfully in her chest at the blue marked womens words. What was wrong with her? Did she think for some moment that she would get a sympethetic note from her enemy? "are you saying I deserved it? That I deserved to almost die trying to stop the man I loved from leaving? Maybe you should remember, I would have done anything for that man, and here you thought I would hurt him?" Svara's voice was cold, void of the passion is usually sparked with. This conversation was killing a part of her. The constable had to keep reminding herself that she was standing before the adonis of Dhalia de Mai, her enemy, not Cwmfen Nic Graine. No, she'd never get to see that sable women again.
The Adonis's question made Svara look away at the ocean and the sinking sun. It was almost dark, and the moon was becoming visible. How could she not understand? "I wanted to prove to him I was strong enough. He's the closest thing to my father that I've had. Guess I wasn't good enough again." The red she wolf said a hint of pain entering her words. The wind shifted lifting her red locks from her back and making her shiver. It wasn't the cool breeze that brought the action out of her.
Then the black female said it. That one sentance made Svara put up a wall against the she wolf. Her heart was cold and she would spit on her when she got the chance. "Don't threaten my Pack Adonis. Yours may be bigger, but you have enemies that are willing to take a piece of what they have been denied. Don't threaten what you can't take on." Svara warned with sharp yellow eyes. Her voice was deep whisper. Any women that would raise her hand against a loved one on any side was a cold bitch. There was no question, that svara couldn't hurt Cwmfen. It didn't mean she couldn't protect her pack from Dhalia. "If your just going to threaten my family leave. I hope your demon kills you when your back is turned." Svara's hands were fisted as she sat down in the sands and stared out at the water, her heart broken even more then it had been before. All because of one sable warrior.
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500+
"No," the warrior answered with that quiet, alto melody. "No one deserves such a thing." Truly, no one did. Was such a thing not an act of disrespect upon another? What Haku had done was undignified, but would he not also have been provoked? The white eyes sought the yellow ones. "I was not certain what you would do. He was also the man that exiled you, that pushed away the love Firefly. You knew what he was and who he was." Cwmfen knew that Svara must have known, and she wondered what had made the young woman believe that she could have made Haku stay? There had been countless women in the Lilium’s life, herself included, that had been an instrument of his pleasure whether it had been consensually or not. The nature of each woman had been different for the Lilium—love had attempted to exist between Firefly and him. But even that would not hold Haku back. Why would Svara have been any different?
The woman shook her head. "You can spend her life trying to prove yourself to your father or your father figure, but in the end, what he thinks doesn’t matter—believe me, Svara, I know." She had been intrigued by her father, had even, in the depths of her heart, desired that power and darkness within him. That desire to understand the dark was something that was innate for the warrior, a part of her being, a blemish upon her soul, since the moment of her conception, created by the anger and humiliation of her mother as she had been raped. But even the young Cwmfen had known when intrigue would end. Corvus Vendetta had raped her, and she had known her mother’s emotions. And it had been for the last time. What her father thought, what he wanted, it did not matter to the woman. Even though he sought her now, even though she feared him, she would face him because that was her purpose, that was why she had been conceived. But it was not about him, it was about the last great fear to conquer, the last thing she must do in order to become that which she was born to be: a warrior of the Morrigan. "It is not a measure of your worth. To many men, women are nothing. You cannot rely upon them. Rely upon yourself." And perhaps this would be the last bit of advice, of guidance, that she would be able to give to the girl before Svara would return to Cour des Miracles and she to Dahlia de Mai.
"I do not threaten your pack." There was a slight pause and a flicker of some emotion within those white eyes. "It was merely a warning." Once more, to the warrior there was a clear definition between those two words. "You are a leader of a pack now—you must recognize when it is the time to fight and when it is not." When the girl mentioned the enemies, a fierce spark flashed through her gaze. "Whatever comes to our door, I will be there to resist it with my life. That is my purpose." She spoke as if she were some insignificant variable in a great equation. At the mention of demons, however, the woman laughed suddenly, though not mockingly. There was a golden mirth, tainted only by a certainty. "Your wish my come true Svara," the alto melody responded. "But I hope you don’t mean that."
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"She's a wild heart"
It was never Haku she saw. He was just another man, like Leroy, like all of them. Svara had been looking for her father ever since he died. In who ever she could find close enough to him. Her stomach was in knots and her head hurt. She no longer looked for her father in people. The constable had learned her lesson with Haku Soul. She may have provoked him, but it didn't mean he had any right to do what he did. She was far from done with him yet. It wasn't Haku that stood before her at that very moment. The adonis went on, her words condesending in all of her greatness. Svara didn't have the heart to listen anymore.
Drawing her legs up she rested her head on her knees as just watched the liquid lap at the shore. Word after word and she was never good enough. Always was doing something wrong. When would someone tell her she had done something right? Would it never happen? The sun had fully dissapeared, only leaving a shinning trail of its' light. A dulness came over her and her ears fell flat to her skull in defeat. She didn't have it in her to fight against Cwmfen anymore. The women knew where to tear to make the red she wolf hurt worse.
Finally she looked at her. Her yellow eyes empty and just starring. There was only one thing Svara carred to know now, the only thing left to ask the warrior. The constable was almost afraid to ask it, but it was her duty to her pack, and to herself to do it. "Would you kill me Cwmfen? If your Rosea told you to, would you stab me through my heart?" The question burned coming out of her throat. Svara really didn't want to hear the answer, because a part of her was terrified of what she'd have to grasp. The red healer kept herself sitting in the sand waiting for the response. It was all there was left for her to ask.
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500+
Those yellow eyes lifted, empty and defeated as that question burned the air. Cwmfen paused. The white orbs watched the girl—how vulnerable she seemed. The warrior recognized a part of herself in that girl, or what had been her. Like anyone, she too had been lost after the rape, unable to decipher what must be done. The warrior was only relieved that the girl had had other around her for guidance and support. For the black female, there had been no one, there had been nothing. There had been only the ice and the whiteness, the cold and the dark heavens, and the other creatures that sought food in that barren and beautiful landscape. She was forced above fear, forced to fight, and she had succeeded. Then, in that land of ice, it had been necessary. And now it was simply who she was: a quiet creature, cleansed of the unnecessary by the cold winds of the arctic.
"No," the melody replied at length, her voice quiet, practically inaudible for the whisper of the waves. There was a long silence that followed that single uttered word. To exile a life was one thing, but a life itself—that was another. She fought battles, and she killed. But the warrior did not simply kill—she was not an executioner. That was what made her different from her father. Despite their many similarities, they were not the same. And why? Because she valued life. She valued it. That was why she could fight. That was why she could die. Others would be allowed to live. Life...it was not something to be simply thrown away. She would not simply kill the girl simply because her leader had ordered it—yet she doubted that Cercelee would request such a thing of her. And that was not the duty of a warrior and never would be. Perhaps a lesser creature would be able to, but Cwmfen believed that she had overcome that within herself.
"I’m not a killer, Svara," the woman replied. "I am a warrior." And though the warrior was not a prideful creature, there was a certain amount of passion that was said in that word. There were two things that made life worth while: war and Onus. That was all. For the warrior, that was all she needed. "I don’t forget," the woman said at length. The white orbs sought the eyes of the younger female. "As much as you wish that I would, I don’t." Another slight pause. "We may be enemies now, but an enemy can be the same thing as a friend." Or perhaps she did not explain that correctly. But the warrior believed that it was possible for a friend to be the same individual as the enemy; because of that, she was able to do what was bidden without completely severing a bond. Of course, she did not think that the girl had understood, for she had sought to push her away. Even Onus had been hurt by it. "Unless you attacked me, I could not kill you."
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"She's a wild heart"
It was silent. The waves kept lapping even as darkness consumed the beach, leaving the two women with no light but the moon. It took so long before Cwmfen would answer. Long enough to put Svara on edge and try to accept that Cwmfen may have not ever really given a rats ass about her. When the word finally passed her lips a breath eased from the constables lips. Svara hadn't even noticed that she had been holding her breath. She was young compared to the sable warrior and she knew she was far from finished learning how to control her temper and urges, but she had suceeded so far.
"Some say that the two walk hand in hand." Svara said as she looked into those white eyes. A warrior was made to kill when they were told, that was what Cwmfen didn't understand. She was just another pawn in Cercelee and Haku's struggle against each other. Svara just wished the women wouldn't be stuck inbetween the two when the time came. Svara knew it was coming, Haku was insane, and he was pushing even closer to destroying everything.
It was hard to say you were enemies with a women you felt should be your friend. Cwmfen had stepped on her heart one to many times to just walk in and ask to make it better. No matter how it went she was never good enough for the sable women to trust or even treat like a being in front of her higher command. It didn't matter anymore. This women wasn't part of her life anymore. "You already attacked me Cwmfen. The moment you turned cold eyes on me that day. I came to say goodbye to you, and you threw it in my face. It was like being stabbed." The constable stated sullenly.
Looking up at the stars, the red she wolf smirked ever so slightly. "What if it wasn't you I was attacking Adonis." Those yellow eyes moved back to the sable women. The stars winked at her and she tried to let her heavy heart relax and think of something better, like Haven practicing to be a better knight, or Jac teasing like he usually did, and Firefly with her harsh ways. Svara would gladdly give her life for them. It was good to feel like you had something you belonged to. "I wish this had never happened between us." Svara said with her husky voice, head still tilted to the stars.
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"Perhaps," the woman replied. "But those who do say such things do not understand what a warrior is." The silent code of all warriors, knights, and soldiers were the same. They protected those who could not protect themselves and killed for those who could not kill themselves. It was a system of honor and respect. A warrior, a true warrior, knows the power of that their trained body, and they know the danger that lied within every fight they take up. A true warrior did not pick every fight, they did not kill in cold blood or even in anger. That was a gang, like the one her father had once lead. That was a common thief, a common killer. Warriors...they were different. There was a difference between a warrior and a killer, and they did not walk hand in hand.
The warrior’s lips were curved in a subtle smile that held the sad tones of a ballad. Recently she had learned the power of words, and she knew that while words could be inadequate, action could be too rough. It was something that the warrior, a physical creature, still struggled with. "I cannot ask for your forgiveness, for surely you cannot give it," the woman responded at length. "But I did what I thought was necessary, even if I were hurt as well." The woman’s mind reminisced upon that day. She had remembered feeling that remorse at the way she had sent the girl off, especially when the gifted dagger had been returned. But, at once, she believed that what she had done had been necessary. As Adonis, she was also an enforcer of the Rosea’s word and the laws that held ever pack intact. Svara had trespassed upon the pack, for then she had already been banished from those lands. And the warrior did not practice leniency, not even upon herself. In a wolf’s world where survival was the key element of life, leniency was not a luxury one could have. "But I made no physical attack, and that is of what I speak."
The Adonis already knew how she would answer Svara’s question, and she knew that Svara must already know the answer. "I am part of the pack. I will do what I must." And the black fae left it at that. In the silence of the night, the pied Raven finally took off, for she had felt his need to depart conflicting with that desire to remain. The woad bound ears swiveled toward the soft whisper of those departing wings before she turned her eyes back to the girl. "Life would be simpler," the soft melody replied, "but life is not meant to be simple. We must simply make do with what life has given us, even if it continues to drive us apart." Such a thing would be unfortunate, but the warrior was an accepting creature, and she could and would have to accept what was to come. "But even if we are enemies, Svara, you can still have a friend."
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"She's a wild heart"
Svara felt like this was it. How could it be so hard to let this strong women go? In a way Svara felt like she had taught her something, that others hadn't. Nodding her head to the female Svara smiled at the stars. "Sometimes I think your to hard on yourself Cwmfen." The she wolf said as she got up brushing the sand from her coat. It was getting darker and darker, she could feel the moons light seep into her coat. Yellow eyes glowed in the provided light as they looked at her white orbs. "I was foolish, I let my past rule my actions. That is not who I am anymore Cwmfen." Svara paused to take in a deep breath before contining.
"I can only hope for a day I can call you my friend, but I refuse while you stand next to Haku soul and Cercelee." She pushed her hand through her bangs roughly. Some desicions were hard ones to make, and you had to make sacrifices for the future. It was hard to call this women enemy. Shaking her head the constable finally let her final words to the Adonis slip out. "I can't call you friend for fear you will hurt me in the future. What happened between me and Haku soul is between me and him. Though next time you should be wise not to believe his lies so quickly." Svara nodded her head in respect to the adonis, and went to turn but stopped mid way. Her yellow eyes focused on the women only one seeing her. "This doesn't mean that I wouldn't protect you if I had the chance." Was all she said as she turned and started for home, her feet as heavy as her heart. She hated Dhalia de Mai.
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A light smile, almost a wry smile, flickered across her lips. Perhaps she was too hard on herself, or perhaps that was simply all that was meant to be for her. And yet, another door had been opened for her. With Onus, she had allowed herself, her heart, to open up, to feel more than those diluted emotions of every day. It was a single luxury that both warriors allowed within their lives, and it was something that the warrior held very close to her heart—dangerously close. But when the two lovers did not meet, the warrior was doing what she had always done: protecting the pack. She fought battles and was wounded, continuing with the life of Death at her heels. And at the end of the day, she returned to her solitary den. The woman still loved the quiet solitude of nature, but that did not stop her from longing for his company.... The white eyes that had drifted to the darker lands beyond the beaches returned to the girl before her.
A soft smile graced the woman’s maw, its tones brighter, warmer. "Perhaps one day that day will come. But if it doesn’t, I’m sorry." And the warrior did not think that such a day would come. Just as Cour des Miracles was now Svara’s home, Dahlia de Mai would be Cwmfen’s home. It had been since she had set out from Caledonia, and the warrior felt that it always would be until the pack fell or until she died. Her loyalty to that pack was so great that she could not leave it yet, not even for Onus. "I will," the woman replied quietly. "And do not think that I would not return the favor." Perhaps Svara would allow the Adonis’ words to ring truly for once, perhaps she would allow herself to believe that they could still have that friendship. "Good bye, Svara." And she spoke it as if it would be the last time she would see the girl.
Silently, the warrior turned away, returning to the search that had brought her here. And yet—once the woman had fallen into the cover of the trees, her course changed, turning her feet back to Dahlia de Mai. This chance meeting (but the warrior did not believe in chance) with Svara of Cour des Miracles had raised some questions. The warrior returned now to her packland, seeking the Lilium himself. Once she had trusted the chocolate male with her life. But now, especially because he had told Onus to leave (and that had bothered her more than she would have liked to admit), and because of what Svara had revealed to her, the woman had begun to question him. She felt that he no longer trusted her as he once had. And for what reason? She had served the pack unquestionable, doing all that was required of her. With a quiet sigh, the warrior moved through the shadows of the night, shrugging away the call for sleep and returning to her home.
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