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[Cwmfen nic Graine]

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Post-dated to the 21st~ Somewhere in the forest, ^=^;;
500+

The black fae rolled her shoulders, testing the soreness of her muscles and of the wound upon her neck. The pain wasn’t severe, and she knew that she had not caused any serious damage to herself. Nevertheless, she would not push herself. This had not been the first time that her impatience had brought harm upon herself. With a wry amusement, she recalled the day she had attempted to shift down after several long weeks of healing from the near-fatal attack. It was strange, then, because it had been Haku who had found her, licking her wounds. She couldn’t say why that thought made her feel the strangeness; perhaps it was because such a thing would not happen again.... This time, however, no blood had been spilt. She would simply relinquish the use of her bow and rely upon her Spear.


The pregnant female moved silently and slowly through the woods, her ears lifted and her eyes alert. Occasionally, she would wave the woad-bound maw through the air, catching the faint scent trails that hung like fine powder in the air. Occasionally, the woad-tipped tail would move behind her with sinuous paths, adjusting to the change in balance as she moved along the uneven floor of the forest. Golden light filtered through the summertime canopy, and the birds sang along with the songs of the world. But the black female passed through the beauty of the golden woods as a shadow wreathed in lesser silver, with a softer, darker song singing from her soul. And yet, it was not unbecoming of the female, for it was not unlike the guise she had assumed upon her arrival to these lands many moons ago. And yet, this time there was a dimness to the light of her eyes, its intensity only slowly returning with the passing of time.


She paused, a sudden and yet gradual movement, as if she were simply a part of the forest. Her ears pressed forward as her maw twitched. The Raven Spear sang with approval. She had found another meal. With slow and careful steps, the warrior stalked her unseen prey, creating a large and sweeping circle as her senses searched for her meal. Then she saw it, lying in a sun-lit patch of grass and soft foliage. The white orbs watched it as if in challenge, the fierce intensity holding it there. Slowly, her right arm lifted, her grip adjusting upon the Spear’s decorated shaft, and she held it there above her shoulder, listening to the soft hum. Listening... The song moved like silver glass through her soul—and then it rose up and the Spear flew from her hand, thrown with a speed and accuracy that could not be escaped, that could not be matched. Even with her state, her form was perfect, and she held her stance even as the blade pierced the body. The rabbit’s cry of Death rose up like the wailing of a child, causing the birds to scatter.


When the world had grown quiet once more, the black wolf moved forward and grasped the Spear, pulling its blade from the earth now damp with blood. The scent was warm and fresh as she breathed it in. And the woman had prepared to kneel, to feed upon the meal she had hunted, when a sound caught her attention. She spun, perhaps a little to quickly for comfort, and her left hand went to support her belly that acted as a counterweight, the Spear rising in her grasp once more, ready to fly, ready to feed.

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[Catalyst de Sadira]

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Requiem, I deeply apologize for the wait on this. I've been a little torn with my muse, not to mention the fact that life and writing has been keeping me busy, amid with starting a new job. x_x 300+



Catalyst had kept to herself for awhile. It seemed as if bits and pieces of her world was beginning to shatter before her. First, it had been their mother. Now, namely all of her siblings began to slip away from one another as if family blood had not meant anything in the slightest in the beginning. Catalyst had stood by all the while from the sidelines, watching as it all fell apart. Perhaps she would have had the will to do something about it, to stop a sibling from leaving, but there had just not been any bout of energy within her at the time to do so. She had been exhausted, physically and mentally, and for awhile she just wanted to rest and clear her mind of every conceivable thing that happened to strike her during those two months of dark times.


Solitude was sought as her closest companion and best friend at this time. The ivory girl had taken a particular liking to strolling on her own accord upon worn paths of the woods, mildly curious as to where the dusted subtle road would lead her to. Often to destinations where she knew she would go, but other times the mere spontaneity would rouse her interest slightly. It felt as if she was finally rising from her little stint of a coma. After what happened at the borders, after the disappearance of her kind, Catalyst was finally obtaining acceptance for all of those.


Her ears were pivoted forward, listening to the fine tunes of the songbirds in the canopies when they made their calls. The woods were lighted gingerly, giving it a tasteful dim atmosphere of mystique. Catalyst had been wandering upon this particular path for quite sometime, her dual eyes casted to the glowing canopies above, until before her was a sight she had not seen in quite some weeks now, a sight that she felt rather awkward at first to be in. The woad warrior's abrupt spinning had Catalyst halt bluntly in place, her eyes widening. Catalyst had not expected to see Cwmfen, especially with this sudden roundness of her torso, and the bloodied spear poised in her grasp. "Cwmfen." She had spoke in a surprise syllable, feeling the coarseness of her neck hairs rising at the sight of the raised weapon.

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[Cwmfen nic Graine]

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Don’t worry about it! ^=^
500+

The chemicles that had been awaken within her because of the pregnancy heightened her aggression, her hostility. And the natural belligerence that had first allowed her success upon the warrior’s path was easily kindled, a hot and yet controlled fire. And yet, for the tranquility that characterized the black fae, such unfamiliar belligerence may have been a wildfire. The fire flickered dangerously within her, the danger within the one who crossed her path, for the Spear was raised and hungry. The necessity of protecting herself and the lives that grew as weed within her was strong as was her instinct, and, had she not had such self control, she would have attacked and killed instantly, without thought and, later, without regret. But the warrior’s mind new that one must look first, and so the white orbs, clouded by her ferocity, looked upon the white girl without recognition.


‘Cwmfen.’


"Catalyst," the quiet melody responded, the wound-banded aurals recognizing now the voice and the scent and, finally, the face. Slowly, as the ferocity fell away like the dew from a leaf, her stance straightened, relinquishing the belligerent pose for a more amiable one—or, at least, a relaxed one. The Raven Spear grew quiet as she shifted her grip upon the decorated shaft, lowering to her side. The white orbs looked upon the shifted girl, noting that much time had passed since Ril’o’s passing and, perhaps, since the night nearly two moons ago. "What are you doing here?" The voice was quiet as she spoke, a mild curiosity moving through those white orbs. Perhaps such an query was needless, for this forest belonged to all within the pack and then to nature still. The black fae herself owned nothing within those lands save for the singular den that lay beneath the protection of the great oak that stood sentinel over her.


"How have you fared?" The question was given to the air with a strange and tentative song. The black fae did not forget what the young pup had seen, how afraid she had been. Nor did she forget their first encounter and the tolerable and promising mind that she had seen. But what would Death have shown the girl? The response had not been favorable of one to take the path of war, but one could never know. And still, the girl’s promise was of many things. Perhaps she would seek the way of the herbalist, for Dahlia lacked dearly that skill. But perhaps another would come along that would be able to aid those in need. Perhaps Catalyst had come because she herself had been ready, but, once more, the warrior could not know these things. She knew only that Catalyst now shared her company, and she knew that nothing happened by Chance.


The Raven Spear was leaned against the tree where it lay dormant and with patience. "I hope you don’t mind if I sit," the warrior continued quietly, slowly lowering herself to a comfortable position. Silently, she took the rabbit’s corpse and began to skin it, the quiet hunger growing more apparent within her. "Are you hungry?"

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