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Post by Sebastian on Mar 28, 2013 4:50:05 GMT -5
Listen.
The plains were empty - it was a warm spring night, but Sebastian was not asleep with his head in his paws. No, he was up and about, as wolves should be. He was a nocturnal creature, most of the time. Recently he hadn't been able to be nocturnal or diurnal; he just woke when he woke, walked and ran for awhile, hunted, then slept when he slept. He cared not for when the sun rose and dipped below the horizon. At least now it was spring, when you could tell what the time of day was. It wasn't like the harsh winters where every day was just one long night.
But, soft. Listen - what could he hear? Nothing, that was the answer. Where were the deer? Where was the prey? Were they all asleep, in their dens and homes? Sniffing the ground, he could catch no scent. Ears pricked in the warm darkness, he could hear nothing. His cream fur sat still on his thin body, and he was glad that the night was so warm. At least it was night - during the day, this warmth plus the sun would make it feel like summer had come early.
Nose itching he lifted his head to look at the sky. The stars were out, and so was the moon. Crescent - it was a fat sliver in the sky, brightening the fields ever so slightly, but making all the difference to the critters that couldn't see as well as he. Pupils dilating in the brightness, it took a moment for them to once again adjust to the shadows in the grass around him. There were a sparse spattering of trees here and there but it seemed they didn't grow so much around here - instead it was just grass and flowers, flowers that were all just buds but in the coming days would be blooming, bright pinks and purples and all those colours that seemed so impossible as soon as you set eyes on them.
The light-coloured parts of his pelt stood out in the starlight, and it looked as though the top, dark-brown half of his body just disappeared into the dark blue backdrop. His ice-blue eyes shone through, reflecting the light, making certain that anything or anyone around would be able to spot him.
But - listen - was that a noise?
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Lyall
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Post by Lyall on Mar 28, 2013 5:13:29 GMT -5
On a white so warm and cold, so dark and light, how was it possible to not feel as if a ghost? To Lyall she was nothing but a wraith, with intangible paws nary touching the moon-washed earth beneath her feet. Such an ethereal unreal scene, when she herself was cloaked in silver as if the very moon had come down to bestow upon her a cloak of its own light. Grey was bleached white and red was darkened to ruddy black, making her nothing but a flash of shadow, a hidden patch of white before the eye.
The tiny shoots and bulbs parted before her paws, bowing out of the way instead of being crushed under careless paws. These were dainty steps, as if every paw set down had careful planning behind it. Eyes that brimmed with emotion yet were as grey-washed as the night itself were set inside the fragile skull, scanning the landscape. The wind was nowhere to be found and not a scent came towards her, yet those snow choked eyes picked up on a shadow among shadows, a shadow moving in the night.
Cocking her head, the shadowed female stepped closer, eyes luminescent of the moon itself. This being before her was shadows and starlight, as if the burning thousands had decided to come dance and dance along his pelt. A wolf she knew now, yet in this world apart, he could be nothing ordinary. Grace almost otherworldly haunted his shape, almost as if another shadow or tale, told in those orbs of iced fire.
Stepping forward into that chosen shaft of moonlight, the female did examine the male, youthful eyes telling of curiosity and striking intelligence, silver eyes seeming to hold the stars themselves, matching to this man's star-struck pelt. "Who are you, to beckon the lights to so dance in your fur, to have such eyes of heavenly fire?" Her lilting voice chimed, ringing like light wind-chimes, natural and full of life and music. Perhaps this was a ghost and nothing more she conversed with.
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Post by Sebastian on Mar 28, 2013 5:28:13 GMT -5
Yes, he heard her, and he spun and saw her, a mottled creature. She was truly beautiful, he knew that as soon as he set his eyes upon her. He met her eyes, eyes the colour of cloud, snow, a winter stream. They held more colour in them than was possible for something so bleak; they colour they held was the emotion held in them. What was a goddess such as this doing, standing before him on this sultry and lonesome night?
Heart beating in his chest, he took a few steps toward her, white-tipped paws connecting with the deep green ground without almost no sound. He watched her carefully, as though she were a deer that might skitter off as soon as she was frightened. What a delicate creature she was, made of the most lovely tones, earthy browns and dark patches.
The scent that made its way from her pores to his nose was tantalizing, reminiscent of the fruits of spring themselves, as well as with some hint of - what - water? The smell of early morning dew. A strange smell to behold, but something that just added to her beauty. He tried to ignore this attraction - was he going to continuously be attracted to every female he met (the answer to that question, though rhetorical, is probably yes). It was difficult, though. As soon as she spoke, his heart beat faster and he opened his maw, as though in surprise. Knowing he may have looked stupid, he too spoke,
"And who are you, to tease the ancients themselves with your snow-touched eyes and lilting song?" he referred to her voice, which was so harmonious it did sound like she sung every word.
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Lyall
New Member
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Post by Lyall on Mar 28, 2013 6:06:39 GMT -5
Grey eyes blinked as Lyall did a double take, actually surprised that she was responded to. Needless to say, she hadn't expected a reply, still believing it was a spirit or Ancient before her. But she was not disappointing, his fair voice was just as it should be, smooth like honey and velvet, a gift to the ears and soul. The sound of it sent a shiver up her spine as if the words had somehow physically touched her.
Lyall watched in slight apprehension as the being advanced toward her, she had no idea what to expect from such a creature of beauty, for surely a being so fair could not be mortal and bound to the earth and she was. Her heart thrummed in her chest, but it may as well have been in her ears for all the blood roaring there. He seemed to watch her gently as if she were a fragile creature, as if even looking to hard could cause her to shatter and blow away in the spring breeze. Indeed she felt fragile, against such a male, as if she could curl up between his paws and nestle there forever, knowing she would be protected.
She opened her mouth to better take in his scent, sunshine and the living green of the earth. His scent was that of life of joy and love and the wild green places of the world. It was irresistible and exciting all rolled together to overload her senses and lower her guard. His words, those lyrical tones that cascaded from his mouth like a waterfall fell over a smooth stone, powerful and quiet and loud. She could have listened to it all day without falter, if the very words he had spoken had not shocked her out of such revelry.
She stuttered for words for a time, not knowing exactly how to respond. Shifting on light paws, Lyall averted her eyes, overcome by shyness of what this male had apparently been able to read among them. "I am known as the daughter of Jyrra. I am the Healer yet have never Healed. My eyes are thine old, dark as my shadowed soul with not snow but a howling blizzard contained within. I tease no Ancients, nor you with my song, for it has no jest nor joy of which to listen." All through her words, Lyall carefully made sure to exclude her name, cautious even though she was beginning to feel immensely curious. "You dart my question as the butterfly doth evade the spider's web. Male with the fur of stars and eyes of fire, would you not reveal your identity to at least one curious enough to ask twice?"
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Post by Sebastian on Mar 28, 2013 20:53:14 GMT -5
[html]<center><table align="center" background="http://i378.photobucket.com/albums/oo223/FormidableMoon/sebastian_zps85224a98.png" style="width: 600px; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: bottom;; border: 1px solid #0b3939; padding: 15px 25px 370px 25px; background-color: #0f6974; text-align: justify; font-family: euphemia; font-size: 11px; -moz-border-radius: 15px;"><tr><td><font color=#4a969a> She seemed just as surprised as he at their conversation; he didn't expect her to respond, she didn't expect him to respond. Yet here they were, both trading words like they were gold. The air around them was still, but he could feel his fur moving, in a primeval way, pulling him toward her. His steps slowed, but they still stepped toward her. After every sentence she finished, a paw hit the ground, until he was just a rabbit's-width away from her. Here he stopped, eyes wide, ears low. She had stopped speaking and her bright, bleak eyes glared at him, a contradiction all in themselves.
<font color=#9efaff>"Fair maiden, you tell me off your tricks but do not reveal your own name,"</font> Revealing one's magic was a personal thing, only to be done in boasting; yet the way she said it was sombre and not boastful at all. As he spoke, his breath moved the fur on her face, the only existent wind in this moment. <font color=#9efaff>"Why should I tell you mine?"</font> He knew why; because he wanted her to know. But she couldn't know this. If she wouldn't tell him her name, he wouldn't tell her his. <font color=#9efaff>"I am known to no-one but myself and my own blood. I am the son of Siob. Daughter of Jyrra, I think your name is fair trade for mine,"</font> He was acutely aware of everything in that moment. The bright grass beneath his paws that was rough and soft at the same time; the flower buds behind him that were slowly rising once more after he had stepped on them; the starlight, so bright in the twilight, and the star's reflections in the brown girl's eyes.
Her summery scent was even stronger at this close proximity. There was a tang that he had not detected earlier, and he tasted it on his tongue, wondering if her fur tasted as good as she smelt. These thoughts spun through his mind and he shook his head ever so slightly, as if trying to dispel them. He was getting caught up in these moments, and he couldn't think clearly with her so close to him. He had just met her, but he could feel his heart being tugged, and he could feel himself letting go of his resistance. Falling - that's what he was doing and that's all he wanted to do. Even if it was just for a night, he wanted to let go of everything and just wrap himself up in everything that was this femme before him.
<font color=#9efaff>"Speech"</font> </font></td></tr></table></center>
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