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Listless Grace « Thread Started on Jul 7, 2007, 10:08am »
the young female was beside herself, looking around with a keen eye, trying to pass the burgeoning surge of emotion that was trying to overwhelm her every waking thought. she'd been traveling long and hard, her paws thudding against the ground, a soft touch that lifted the proverbial raincloud that thundered over her head. she was running, running mostly from the nightmares that plagued her. there was a secret, despite the lies she told. yes, she was fine, perfectly adaptable. nothing special. but there was a secret. it covered her heart in liquid freeze, turning the throbbing muscle into stone by slow painful increments. of her story there was not much to tell. but the secret. it crowded her every thought, surged through her very veins, a heavy reminder of her true rank. she was an abomination. the true rank that she would never be able to live with.
it could not be seen by looking at her physical features for her curves were smooth and almost dainty, her fur a silken coat that shimmered in the sunlight. her eyes were bright, a sparkling green as deep as the very lifeblood of the vines. her soul was in her eyes, one look and one could see infinity. surprises, perhaps. stubbornness, perhaps. but like a deep well there were many mysteries that lay beneath the surface, just calling to be discovered. to many, she seemed almost circumspect, wary. but the dark leviathan of sorrow had carved a hole in her soul, had dug it out with tooth and claw and settled there for a permanent residence, a permanent reminder. abomination. Pyvik winced, shaking her furry head as she settled into the quick movement.
the grey female moved with a listless grace that spoke powerfully of who she was. it was a loose quick movement, muscles limbered, almost indolent in their movement as they carried her over the ground. but if something came, that indolence would disappear to be replaced by hardened rage. she felt too much. anything, provoked a deep emotion that filled her every emotion. it was why she suffered from nightmares. they spoke to her, these nightmares, told her how useless and worthless she was with the very images of her youth, and the abomination. the blasphemy of her actions. her face settled into a grim determination, shaking off the horrors of the night. in the day, when the sun was blazing high over head, they did not exist.
perhaps it would drive her insane in time.
the land was changing, the terra beneath her paws softening, turning into something else entirely. Pyvik thingyed her head, staring around with those soulful woodland eyes of hers. took in the land and sighed, a soft sound that spoke of long travel. wearied to the bone from the long distances she had run, of the very tedium of simple walking, Pyvik knew in her heart, she was finished. if this place would not offer acceptance, then she wouldn't keep trying.
but that was a lie.
it was part of Pyvik's nature to keep going. the fae could never just stop trying. to quit would imply that others were right and she was loathe to give them justification for their words. they didn't deserve it, the buggers. thirst began to attack her with deceptive slowness. over the days she was losing strength because of it. Pyvik's tongue beginning to get cottony with that discomfiture of dryness, the telltale signs of swelling. she was getting antsy. the last liquid she had managed to drink down was the blood of the hare she had captured in her jaws. otherwise, it had been too long.
growling, the northern rocky grey shook off those thoughts as well, as if by physical denial she would rid herself of the truth. she was no imbecile. eventually she knew, she'd be so weakened she'd not be able to crawl forward. she needed water, but it could wait a little while longer. tongue rasping along the fur at her lips, Pyvik's ears stood up erect atop her skull, tail swishing once before stilling. eyes narrowing she wondered how long this land was. how long do i have trespass before i get any type of response? she thought, dryly. perhaps it was better that she left.
The air was choked with oxygen, filling every corner and forbidden nook. And it was dark... a wretched, shadow forest. Sunlight pierced through the few opening, providing little light. Hard, worn trails laced through the land, describing the many Lera that passed this way. The floor was thick with lush vegetation, mostly ferns. The towering pines reached to the heavens, heavy with the new spring needles. At the very tips of their branches were clusters of woody cones, their petals not yet sharpened by maturity. The dull thrum of insects and calls of the flyers nulled the eerie silence.
But all this glory was lost on the massive brute. The he-beast had a thick, steel-gray coat that blended in perfectly with the shadows of the trees. His fur was spiky and stuck up in odd directions. His haunches were spotted with obsidian dots, all the way down his high tail. Under his monstrous hide, iron-hard muscle and sinew seemed chiseled to fit him perfectly. Fighting flesh in the finest condition. Brawn and size seemed to be the key aspects to his make-up. Crowning his large dial was a set of small doublets, erect and straining to catch every, individual sound. The mascu held his proud visage high, glaring out across the clearing with unsettling pools. It was these orbs that were the most unnerving. One was a shivering emerald green... the other a tortured, mahogany. The way these mismatched diamonds were blank, emotionless, yet rapturing was unnatural, to say the least.
The huge warrior took a tentative step forward, testing the air with a deep sniff. He felt himself immediately catch the perfume of the land... and the scent of other wolves. A rich, guttural snarl escaped his maw, ripping through the hum. He lowered his dial defensively, baring his canines viciously. His already bristled fur charged with a electric current, making it stand-up some more. Large paws moved restlessly against the black soil, unworried about the deep scars they left behind. Lithe, tensed tissue sharpened around his figure and the patron began to glide cautiously. Wary viewers danced in their sockets, searching for signs of his kind. He strutted swiftly, using his incredible speed to dart through the woodland. He brought himself closer to the disturbance, curiosity getting the better side of his insight. But eventually intuitive sense caught up to him, warning that rushing often betrayed one's presence.
The masked wolf began to ease his breathing, inhaling deeply and smoothly. He did everything in his power to silence his approach. The vagabond took slower, deliberate steps... placing his weight only on beds of leaves to muffle any sound. He forced his trap shut, and pushed forward. He heard her first, a light growl on the wind. Then his nares honed on her rich perfume, singling out among the other woody smells. He detected that she was alone... and in terrible shape.
As he drew nearer, he felt nauseated by the thick dehydration that lay around her like a cloud. How could this femme still be alive? He was bewildered that someone had gone so long with out quenching that thirst. Finally he was able to see her, staying camouflaged in the shadows.
She was voluptuous and curvaceous, with a slim physique. She moved gracefully and her ashen pelt shimmered slightly. He noted the lithe, powerful muscle underneath... he wouldn't underestimate this vixen. But her shattering, forest green globes startled his blank stare. They said more than most words. His own restless, mixed voids fought hard to tear his gaze away. He settled on waiting until he was noticed...
the scent did not come to her immediately for her mind was focusing on the horizon that stretched out before her; it beckoned with that bittersweet temptation to reach that silver line that arched through the world. it was a hope that none had ever managed to succeed, but it still pulsated in her body. her muscles, though weary ignited with that faint urge to run. in speed, she felt the release of a hundred bites, of the giant manacles that surely held her down to the ground when all she wished was to fly.
then the female's mind turned to more practical matters, pushing away the long lost hopes and dreams into the inner sanctum of her heart. there was not much left, she mused. her muzzle twitched, the slightest glimpse of fangs as she lowered her maw to the ground, nose close to the terra to inhale the commingled scents of those long past. nothing of particular interest caught her, but as she moved to take a step forward, the northern rocky grey realized how very much trouble she could be in. her muscles screamed at her in their silent, agonizing way, protesting the movement as the bruises of travel stiffened her limbs.
jaws clenching against the sound that ached to be let out to voice such pain, Pyvik directed it within, embracing the pain. she knew, more than most, that once to give over to it, one would be a slave to it. she needed to move. it was her only chance at survival. water, food, sleep. they were the three essentials in life. she was trying to see things clearly, trying to shut down the part of her that felt, and only succeeded in distracting herself.
it was a small scent, one that barely caught at the wind. a quick sniff and she felt all pretense of practicality fall away from her. not quite danger, yet. instinctual wariness filled her every muscle, sending her fur stiffening along her shoulders before she forced them to lay flat against her, but her eyes were churning. the woodland color sparked as if a fire flared behind them. she would not be dominated lightly. male. she inhaled again, a softer sniff, one that could be disguised as her ears pivoted in every direction.
of her body, she did not move, except for the soft swishing of her silken tail, and the pivoting of her ears as she strained for his location. males often meant danger, for they were of the mind that she was fair game for all. her muzzle rippled, a soundless growl that bared the tips of her fangs as her ears twitched back. she caught a stray sound of breathing as the adrenaline began to pulse. her gaze was heated as she stared off into the shadows. she knew he was in there, silent, watching most likely. her throat worked, realizing with alarming clarity that if he meant her harm, she'd have to go for a quick attack, fend him off long enough to dash.
had she been healthy she would have stayed, but in her current state, she was wary. there was no shyness, only a superior knowledge of her own health. still, she had enough strength to defend herself, if not fight entirely. it would have to do. her voice was a little husky from long disuse, fuzzy around the edges, but hinting at a soft voice that lay underneath, "have you found what you see, worth watching?" she asked, in that honest way of hers. deceit had long been a companion in her life, so long, she had renounced it, trying instead to fulfill the hours with truths. often, they hurt her more than others, but it was a start.
still, there was quite a difference in her voice, which was a little wispy at the end, and the fire blazing in her eyes which spoke of no hesitancy at all, but a brutal courage, intent and almost, perhaps, coaxing.
The sudden sense of intrusion hit him when he saw the far away look in her reflective visionaries. That magnificent sunset shone through her , expressing unfulfilled hopes. The brute kept very still as she broke from her trance, letting her cranial drop to the earth. Pain laced through him when he felt her pain roll off in waves from her bodice. He marveled at how she managed to control it all and appear collected. The gladiator wished he could say something to ease that pain, but his mouth was dry and no words popped up in his usually cunning brain. Her feelings changed sharply when she finished sorting through the common smells of the woods. He waited, tense and ready to chase if she fled.
The thought defiantly crossed her mind, the urge to run distinct in the very was she bore herself. He watched as muscle convulsed around her withers, eyes became wary and alert. But it didn't last long, her control immediately stepping in to force herself to remain cool. A smirk couldn't be avoided from lighting up his pallet as he thought of the same hardiness within himself.
He researched everything he could, paying attention to detail and clarifying any assumptions he had made earlier. All of this was accomplished while she pin-pointed his location and debated on what her chances were. He felt assured she wouldn't bolt in her condition... she wouldn't be able to make it far at in that state. but he couldn't let that happen, for instincts kicked in now and then, compelling the mascu to follow the chase.
When she sung her notes he was surprised to sense the sincerity and gruff, quiet tone. He strained his receptors to catch the lyrics, waiting until he could reply in his own.
Masked titan shuffled forward, bringing himself into complete view. If possible, thick brawn became even more prominent. Granite fur looked rumpled and stuck up in odd directions. Tall pillars shook with hardly contained power, making every step closer look dreadfully painful. Cat-like grace made it flow and a buff mane framed his skullet, suggesting he was somehow related to a lion. Unnatural stars sparkled lightly in the coming moonlight, the green one alight with mischief. A charming, but dark smirk could be seen, finishing off his features. All in all, a large wolf with obvious strength.
He refrained from going any further once her was about three taillengths away, and he lowered his visage in greeting. Paws crushed the springy grass that tickled his footpads, and his claws dug into the black soil to keep from wandering.
His voice was rich, deep and warm. It flowed over like a tidal wave, unchallenging and polite. But a warning edge steeled his tone slightly... he wasn't to be trifled with.
"Almost. It was a pleasant view, but felt like something had hit rock bottom...." he watched for an effect, but continued, "Where are my manners? My cursing, or dubbance if you prefer, is Adimar."
the northern rocky grey felt some unknown emotion surge up from the dark depths of her soul, filling her eyes to the brim. what she would call it, she'd never know, but any word was not enough to describe the ineffable feeling she got when the beast of a wolf stood up from his crouch and rose high. her ear twitched slightly before returning to prick toward him. he looked in his prime, his build massive, his muscles tight ropes that laced his strong bones, flowing fluidly under his fur. he seemed to come alive, a sort of dancing motion as his muscles worked in a soft rhythm of simple walking. each piece seemed to work independently from the others but mesh so well as to render the entire piece almost breathtaking. of his fur, it was a steely grey, a solid color, a physical reflection of what she pictured his personality was. the male seemed solid, certain of life. she wished she could boast to be such.
all thoughts of fending off, began to disappear from her mind with slow painful increments. her body was sore and travel worn, and the brute was easily twice her size, if not more. it was almost as if in direct contrast to his build, Pyvik's own body was slight of frame. weighing in at merely one hundred and five pounds and standing at roughly thirty one inches at the shoulder, Pyvik wasn't one made for strength. she used her mind, and a clear knowledge of her own limits in a fight, or in a hunt. remembering usages of leverage and the sharpness of her fangs and her claws, as opposed to the brutal strength to drive someone into the ground. agility, being able to keep from being hit was how she'd survived, how she managed to dodge the flying hooves of elk in pack hunts.
still, the odds were not with her, no matter how one looked at it. she could never defeat him, and she could not outrun him, for one look into his eyes and she could see the instinct to give chase strong and flaring. for a moment she fell into those eyes before drawing herself up. she wouldn't budge. stubborn pride filled her, suffused her body as she stood up, muscles limber, if sore. she supposed there were other ways to deal with brutes, especially in this season when she knew her scent was altered slightly to invite courting, but she was loathe to follow that trail. that was for the weak and insipid. she would never intentionally string some male along with falsified hopes. it says something about her past that she would never fall so low to offer false hope or other such aspirations.
she made a decision, the act itself of knowing what path she would be taking, relieving her of stress. most of the tension in her muscles began to die, her eyes beginning to burn fiercely, her maw parting slightly before closing. nose twitching to gage his current mood she inhaled his musk that hung suspended in the air around him. she was wary, for he had not spoken but had gotten quite close to her. not close enough to invade her space, and for that she was grateful. but it was enough. she scented him, her gaze boring into his. for many it would issue a challenge, but there was something in her eyes, something that begged him to take the road that would not lead to violence. she did not wish to choose, for she knew, that if it came down to it, she would choose her own life over his. she'd do what she could to keep herself alive, no matter how bloody it would be.
surprise had her muzzle lifting slightly ears flicking down against her skull, a curious glint to her woodland green eyes. his tone seemed to melt over her, wrap her in a liquid blanket and leave her there. she shook her fur out, eyes growing questioning. he didn't seem to mean her much harm, and for that Pyvik could not withhold the soft sound of relief.
Adimar. he now had a name, this steely brute of brawn and muscles. her nose twitched, whiskers going askew in the vibration of the air before stilling. her voice was less husky as she grew used to speaking. silence was a hard thing to break, no matter how much one often longed for the voices of others. ears cupping toward him, the northern rocky grey tilted her head to the side, regarding him with open curiosity, the white mask over her face glowing softly in the growing night, as the moon began her regal assent into the sky to settle upon her throne.
"Pyvik, they often call me Pyvik." then curiosity grew too much in her, looking as if she were to burst if she did not ask, "why do you lurk in the shadows, Adimar? do you often receive strangers well that way?" there was humor in her voice, enough to soften the possible insult that could be taken.
He considered the femmora as her curiosity bubbled. He found himself drawn to her hidden emotions, pondering over what she was thinking. He let all possible hostility that might remain wash away, hoping to ease his looks. But he knew that he would always look maybe a little too fierce or too big. A heavy sigh escaped him... it was always like that. Always different from 'the norm'... and not in a good way. At least, not in his experiences.
He looked on as her petite silhouette (compared to his) swelled and looked fit to blow. But it wasn't rage... rather a questioning aura that glowed around her. And he learned of her name...
His voice was mellow and casual in his next words. "Pyvik? Tis a unique name... and it seems to be very befittin'," he started, his bark loud and strong. But a heavy stillness fell after that. The vagabond's unnerving pools swayed uncertainly at her probing. He blinked several times, eyes clouded sulkily. His hide stood up a little, making him appear even larger. Raised whipcord fell a few inches, but his crown remained high.
His mind twisted through possibilities to answer the question. He struggled over how much information to tell her, how much she could handle, or if he should simply lie. Loopholes and sneaky shortcuts popped up at random, showing him more and more paths. But he couldn't come to a certain decision... something he wasn't used too. Finally he settled on what to do, his orbs hardening and wary.
"As for my reply? I hide in the shadows because that is where all my enemies have lurked. They would not be so kind as to strut in broad sunlight. So I choose not too also. This is how i grew up... cast in the darkness until I molded into a wolf that can't stand the cloudless days for long...," his voice had slanted to sound icy and bitter. But then he grunted roughly and resumed speaking in his drifting thunder tone. " Your more perceptive than I thought... making you all the more interesting. But don't fear me, even though it is wise too. I am not here to take you off to some foreign land," he whispered, turning to look away. If you studied his face closely, you might swear he seemed ashamed... but it was probably just a trick of the moonlight.
he looks like a tragic hero, she thought quietly, her gaze sliding over him, roving over his thick bulk and then over his two-colored eyes. there was a story there, she knew, felt it deep in her soul but she let it rest, knowing it would only cause harm to inquire of such things. Pyvik was many things, but callous had never been one of her faults. if anything, the young female saw too much and spoke very little in response to it. but he was a mystery, one that seemed willing to be explored, if only carefully and none too deeply. it wasn't so much that she feared for her life (although the possibility had crossed her mind often) but moreover that she knew one misstep would have the whole thing falling down around her. she did not want to cause him pain, selfish reasons aside.
and when he spoke, there wasn't malice in his words. if anything, Pyvik tilted her head slightly to the side to catch the sounds of his tone, smiling almost to herself at a stray thought. unique she would never have suggested; odd, perhaps. but then, she had always readily agreed of her own insanity, misplaced or not. such insults had been part of her past for years. cur. abomination. her nose twitched, the only tick she allowed herself to bely her thoughts. yes, there were worse things to be called than simply, unique.
despite her wayward thoughts, Pyvik drew herself together when she noticed, almost missing, the way the brute reacted to her watchful gaze. he seemed ... bereft almost. the image made her smile. still, the young fae was not going to put herself in any sort of danger without just cause and remained where she was, standing despite the creaking in her muscles and the screaming in her back. the urge to lie down and curl up in blessed sleep was almost too much to bear, but she bore it in silence.
Pyvik's ear flicked down against her skull before pivoting up toward Adimar once again, catching his words, his tone, hearing them. her heart was beating steadily within her breast but with each word her eyes seemed to flinch slightly, soul thrumming with empathy. there was a sorrow in him, deeply buried wounds that she dared not touch, or even breathe of their existence. she left them alone, but her gaze was full, emotion brightening their depths, flickering slightly telling of the mysteries below.
Adimar struck a cord inside of her, one that triggered a torrid of empathizing emotions. she did not speak right away, for there was something that had changed a moment before falling silent. shame perhaps, but Pyvik was not inclined to believe it. he seemed so sure of himself, this one. it was hard to see him as anything less, no matter that she only knew him for a scant few moments. Adimar left an impression.
when words came, she spoke them slowly as if picking her way through an icy patch whilst crossing a river. "if your intention is not to harm me for some transgression, perhaps then you could show me where the closest watering hole is?" she inquired looking at his two-colored eyes. his words had not fallen on deaf ears, but what she would say to such claims, he would not wish to hear. her tail lifted slightly and then swished, the fur about her shoulders ruffling, not quite rising but a stirring of motion as she tilted her muzzle in his direction. water, yes, water.
The way she accepted his words made Adimar wish he could read her thoughts. His two-toned orbs looked up into the young vixetta's, a peaceful sense of calm washing his nightmares away. Memories felt brushed aside with a gentle, kindly paw and her pools flashed a sense of ... understanding. Yes... understanding. Adimar fell silent.
Inside, his red blood simmered hot, angered by the thought of any other wolf knowing is pain. No one should have to be able to sense the darkness and untold nightmares that had lurked behind those words. But she had... this unique femmora seemed to know that pain, emphasizing with him. Who would dare torment this lady so? The idea made him squirm and want to lash out at those beasts in society.
He caught the winces she had in those diamond viewers. She wouldn't question any further, and for that Adimar felt relief wash through him. She could not know what a burden she had lifted by that. Very few ever would.
The brute dropped his prideful mug a little, shifting to a more casual stance. He strained his harks to catch her next speech, eager to know this lady. But he wouldn't push her. she felt to fragile, like something could explode any minute from this dear maiden... and he didn't want that to happen. Nor did he wish to injure her.
As she spoke Adimar wanted to curse himself into oblivion. Of course! How could he be so selfish as to forget this dove's condition. Here she was starving and dehydrated while he was blabbering on about his past! Stupid, idiotic wolf! She was dying before his eyes and he was preaching? Unforgivable!
Seething inwardly, Adimar let his cerebrum show some of his concern, but not nearly all of it. Awkward gaze flickered again over her dainty, slim figure and he sighed. Then the male racked his brain for information, searching for terrain that was safe and held water. Not many options came to mind. But, slowly, he settled on one area that seemed well enough. He hoped... he didn't wish to send Pyvik rushing blindly across the grounds. That would be a disaster.
Chuckling softly, his rich, throaty roar seemed light and like a blanket of mist. It was hard, cold at first, but brought humid, hot air that melted the scene. "Of course! I'm sorry for not having told you earlier. I'll lead you to a are where their are a few springs that you could drink," he rumbled. Every metal-hard tissue relaxed and he nodded his head south. But when his gaze swept over her frame again, he saw that she was barely able to stand. Another stream of profanities poured through his mind and his jade orb darted with worry. "Do you need any help?" he asked, but it was more like stating that she did than really asking. His resolute attitude showed that he might drag her to the water even if she protested. But he made no advancing movements toward Pyvik.
there was relief in his gaze, a sort of brushing off of potential tension that drained the air around her, made Pyvik almost groan with duel relief. she did not feel as if she were walking along an icy path, but that the ground had somehow managed to solidify beneath her very paws. one grey colored ear flicked down against her skull before righting herself. her throat was parched, which had rendered her voice a little husky. she felt the stirrings of blood in the back of her throat, and knew a mild pang of unease. if her throat had gotten to such a state, she'd have to tread quite carefully around these woods. she could barely move without wincing, let alone defend herself against the world.
his words, too, had a healing affect on the young female, her muzzle rising, a soft shudder shaking her fur about her body. there was a growing hope in her eyes, vibrating along her every muscle. she would run to the water if it but showed itself to her, but she calmed such rash notions and buried them, following instead the path of caution. Adimar had provided life to her.
there was a softness in Pyvik, one that honed her perceptions of others, to pierce past the veil of defense and to see what truly lay beneath the surface, but there were others things too. there was pride, sparking like lightning in her very body at the mention of being helped to water. she was weak, she would admit that readily, she was hurt and she would also readily admit to it, but help? Pyvik would either make it to the water on her own, or she would not. to be carried or any other such notions were too humiliating for her. her nose twitched, jaws opening slightly. "i do not need help. weak i may be, but not helpless. not yet." she added the last for the acknowledgment of truth.
moving into motion, she felt her bones and muscles creak and groan, straining against the exhaustion that had plagued her. in her stance, they had stiffened, leaving each movement almost slow. "i do not know how long you'll be able to stand the sedated pace I'd be walking, but please, do lead the way." a bath might also be useful she thought quietly. she was not vain in the way of females, but practicality demanded that she might as well clean herself after sating her thirst. and then hunger. perhaps with sleep, I'd be able to hunt. Pyvik's stomach knotted at the mere thought of food, her dry tongue licking futilely along her lips.
she did not know the way, and with the smallest of smiles, looking over at the big brute and gestured with her muzzle. it was heartening to know that in the presence of such size, it was unlikely that they'd be harassed. she would be more than useless. and the worst part, Adimar would know it. the softest growl escaped, embarrassment colliding with a sense of rightness, churning in her mind. her tail curled slightly at the end before lying still, breathing quietly, almost silently. still she could feel it, a growing urgency and she dared not stare Adimar directly into his two-colored eyes, for she knew quite well that lying, with her body nor her words had ever been her fortè.
Adimar waited patiently for her reply, carefully watching the light that rose and fell from her foresty pools. A quick, fleeting look appeared at the mere mention of liquid, but vanished behind a placid face. Caution also remained with her, but not as it had been in the beginning. The commanding warrior felt his mind also warn him with caution. He may have already said too much... and it would probably come back to rip him in two. Things happened in the woods, and most of the time you could only trust yourself. He felt on guard now, alert and steady, but nothing seemed threatening at the moment. His eyes had wandered, staying along the path ahead. Calculations danced in his cranium, swiftly analyzing the components and estimating how much time it would take. Not that he had a agenda or anything, but he preferred to not rush things.
Adimar had only looked away for a few minutes before turning back. He felt a chuckle rise as Pyvik's nares wiggled in disdain, jowls opening partially. She had come to some sort of decision he presumed, but he didn't know what. but he really didn't care either. He found that in order for wolves to mind their own business you had to make sure to mind yours. It was nothing personal. The brawny male paid quick attention as the minx added to the dialog. Apparently she wasn't too proud as to not admit her state, but also refused assistance. Then she slinked forward, her movements slow and agonizing. She was out of strength, but not will power, forcing her bodice to obey. Adimar was both warmed and disgusted by the sight. He caught her last words and his emotionless muzzle became a little lighter. But harshness rattled at him as the danger of the dove's collapse loomed closer. He read the waves of urgency that rolled from her, gaging what to do. When he heard her whispering snarl the bruje knew uncomfortable feelings that swam in her.
"Neither do I. I have patience though, whatever size it may be. Follow me. We are going to a domain known as Surreal Escape," he said, voice deep and almost cold. Finished here, the gladiator held his mug to the heavens and strode forward, a grey statue tingling with power and wary stance. This would be a awful time too be ambushed...
there was a part of Pyvik that felt a little disappointed that he was distancing himself from her, but there was another part that understood the need. her gait was slightly hobbled, paws barely lifting up off the ground as she forced herself into movement. the very life she had admired in Adimar's body when he moved was only a pale image in her own. each movement was sluggish, her tongue dry as her maw parted, tongue lolling slightly as her ears flicked back against her skull.
she focused on the simple things, listening to her heart beating, reassuring herself that she was, indeed, still quite alive. despite her earlier assumptions, she was drained by the encounter, no matter that there was nothing much to vouch for physical labor in the act. her muzzle tilted down at the ground, trusting the brute to lead her true, her tail lying limp. surreal escape, she heard distantly, and filed it away for later. now, she simply focused on the important factors. walking. breathing. living. surreal escape she thought, idly. water. how beautiful it sounded.
Re: Listless Grace « Reply #11 on Aug 19, 2007, 7:20pm »
ooc: sorry for the long wait. i've been away for 5 weeks. is Pyvik still here or have you moved on and join a pack? otherwise i am still willing to start the thread. it will be called "Life's Beginnings"
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