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Post by Mist on Mar 27, 2008 17:35:20 GMT -5
The lands of Transylvania are in the midst of a change. Wolfbane has once again inevitably relinquished his hold and most of the deep snow drifts are mostly melted. All water courses have risen significantly with all the meltwater and can be heard from miles around, roaring and rushing along their paths. To one in search of peace and quiet it would most likely be maddening, for numerous kinds of birds and rodents sing, chatter, and squeak out welcomes to the Spring and greetings to their neighbors.
This annual change is not the only different thing in the country. A sleek silver-grey faemme can be seen proudly crossing the meadow. Though she has no specific purpose her stride is confident and able, showing her even to the casual observer to be more than a simple fae. Though she walks with proud head she carries a heavy burden, and her heart is heavy as well. This fae is Mist, daughter and newly appointed Drappa of the bold Deor pack. She has lived her whole remembered life, apart from a year of wandering, as a proud member of the pack and her adopted parents were the Dragga and Drappa of Deor.
Her burden has to do not only with the hefty duties that were placed on her recently, but also the fact that her predecessor is dead. Lucivar was killed by a blood thirsty fiend - the brother of her mate. Not that the new Drappa thinks there is a pattern - no, this is not the object of her concern. Chalos, the Dragga, just lost his mate, and is in no position to teach her the ways of ruling a pack. The last, and only two Drappas have died before their time, and Mist is determined to do the best she can in her new position.
Sighing deeply and tilting her head back to look at the clear blue sky she cannot help but wonder where she will be in a years time, or longer. Will she be a good Drappa? Live up to everyone's expectations, and be able to do as well as those before her?
Shaking these thoughts away with a toss of her head the fae flicks her charcoal-tipped tail and turns, striding away at a 45 degree angle from her previous course. This takes her closer along the edge of the forest, and closer to the high-pitched voices of the small lera. Shaking her head in slight amusement as she sees a pair of squirrels toss an acorn to each other from one tree to another she walks on, feeling the gusty breeze ruffle her fur.
Even where there is death, there is life. That is one thing consistent from year to year, Spring is always a time of new life and new hope. The days have begun to get noticeably longer, and it seems to be a sign of the light overcoming the darkness. Life does go on, and all wounds begin to heal with time. With these thoughts in mind it seems as if Mist's heart lightens a bit. Pausing to look around at the meadow, tall grasses are straightening up and beginning a new year of growth, they wave in the wind. Stiffening as a gust of wind brings a varg scent to her, Mist scans the area for him, golden eyes narrowed - not in fear or annoyance, but to help focus her line of sight...
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Post by Dakota Spirit on Mar 27, 2008 21:19:59 GMT -5
[This thread is understood to take place after Dak's meeting with Krys]
When the night is overcome
Stepping restlessly from the shady undercover of the dense woods, the great ebon male strode into the meadow with a clear air of dignity and purpose. His life had taken a dramatic turn recently, forcing him to open his eyes wider to the ways of the world. He'd come to learn much about himself in the past few suns. Much about his hidden desires and passions. Clearly before him, the dark male could finally see the path to his reawakening. The reasons spiring the wolf into such a change hung heavily upon his mind. Line a veil across his existence, the mann had forsaken many parts of his previous life in pursuit of this new cause. Gone was the flash of defiance in his emerald eyes, replaced instead by a deep burning sense of determination. His blocky head was thrown high, features stern rather then playful. In more ways then one, the heavily muscled male was far changed from who he once was. No longer the young pup, he'd grown into something of the warrior he'd always been in his heart.
Moving further across the meadow, the mann's mind continued to whir about the subject of his perilous journey. An old friend, needing assistance in a dark and faraway land. The grizzled wolf in question called out to the male's mind, pushing old and forgotten memories to the surface of his conscience. He had not time to linger on such happier moments in his life, but instead savored them like teaser of what could be should he prove successful at the end of his path. That very fact alone still remained shrouded in question, threatening to dispel the dark male's last remain ties to reality. Without his current path, the male knew he would not have had many days left. Living on the brink of destruction he'd been close to losing all when that life shattering event had occurred. Still one thought, one memory kept such dark ideas at bay - at least to the point of toleration. Upon his departure from his last and possibly final meeting with the grizzled wolf, the black male had seen a look upon the face of his old friend unlike any he had ever expected to see again. A look of desperation and pain to match his own. Like a beacon of hope it seemed to glow beneath his skin, pushing him ever onward. It stood as the proof of possibility. The possibility of saving the soul of his gray skinned brother.
Lifting his head still higher, the male finally took notice of the fact that he was not alone. A short distance off stood the still form of another. Her scent waifed toward him in thick waves causing the dark wolf to cock his head slightly, as he was prone to do when mulling over a new situation. Before him stood the stranger, her scent and appearance panging softly in his mind as something vaguely familiar. The scent of others mingled along with her scent, adding to his confusion. Having just come from a meeting with a new and unfamiliar she wolf, the bulky mann was eager to get moving again. Yet the presence of such familiarity in the stranger's eyes was enough to stop him in his tracks, if only momentarily. Drawing back his charcoal lips, the male spoke up in a deep rich set of vocals. "Miss!", he called. "Pardon my intrusion...but you look as if I should know you. A presence from my past perhaps." The male swallowed gently, soothing his throat still raw from the encounter with the grey wolf. "My name is Dakota.", he called again. "Please tell me, from where do you hail?"
You may rise to find the sun
[/color] Hopefully this makes sense Mist, I wrote it based on the idea that you know at least some of the details surround Dak's current events. Feel free to message me if anything needs explaining! |
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Post by Mist on Mar 27, 2008 22:48:57 GMT -5
It does not take long for the mann to notice her presence, as she noticed his. Mist watches him intently, noting the tilt of his head in a gesture of curiosity, and definitely not hostility. After a moment his words come to her, a deep, mature voice which pangs something in her memory - something different, but similar. Tilting her own head, almost involuntarily - a habit she has had from youth she ponders over this stranger for a moment before taking a few graceful steps closer to him, in order to better see his face. Smiling gently at his politeness she inclines her head in greeting and respect for a moment before softly answering. "It is no intrusion; I feel the same way. Dakota. I knew a Dakota once, briefly. We were just acquaintances, and it was for a short time..." Her gentle voice is thoughtful, and she conjures up memories and images of Dakota as she knew him in Deor - younger then...
"Oh, forgive me. I am called Mist, and I hail from the lands of the Deor pack. That is where I knew Dak." Golden eyes narrow to better fit together her memories of Dakota and the live, older one standing in front of her. It would be a strange coincidence if they were different, but sometimes such things do happen. At this point it does not cross her mind that she didn't introduce herself as the newly appointed Drappa of Deor. For all her life she has been just a faithful member of the pack. Not long ago she was given the honor of becoming beta female, and it took a while to get used to that; this is a complete change in her life.
Looking him over she sees that he has lived through better; and likely worse times. Scars are evident on his muscular form - but that is hardly surprising. Vargs in this land can not easily avoid... violent encounters at least once or twice in their lives. This thought briefly leads her to another - of her cubs, and the hope that they will be able to avoid other vargs that would give them scars - of any kind. She does not wish to shelter them fully - and wants them to grow up to be strong and proud, but there are some things it is best to go through life without. Blinking as she realizes her distance and the thoughtful look that came into her eyes she smiles slightly, in apology for if he noticed her distance.
((Goodness, what a fabulous post. I'm quite envious, actually. I know this one isn't what I'd want it to be, but I think the next one'll be easier once you've confirmed he is who she thinks he is... Oh, and no, I read your thread with Dane, so it's clear. Also, what are those lyrics from? They're familiar but I can't place them...))
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Post by Dakota Spirit on Mar 28, 2008 0:50:14 GMT -5
[Thanks Mist, I am enjoying your posts as well ^^. The lyrics are actually from a song on the LotR sound tack (the first one) called May It Be by Enya]
Dakota sat silently, seemingly transfixed as the fae spoke. Deor..., his mind whispered. She comes from Deor. His dark ears twitched distractedly as he was again thrown back into the recesses of his mind, unwilling forced to relive his past. Though these were in truth, happier memories the male saw himself becoming distracted. Dwelling on his old pack would bring both pain and joy for he had gained a great many things in the Deorion lands. A would-be love and the first sharp bite of rejection. "Yes...", he whispered, the word slipping from his maw before he even realized it. "I do know you Mist. I know you from long ago." Slipping back from his trip in time, Dakota shook his large head gently. A quite unbelieving laugh seemed to gurgle in his throat when the male moved to speak again, as if the words were trapped there unwilling to accept the reality that he was in the space of only a few suns again meeting one from his past. "You must remember.", he said finally forcing the words out. "I ventured within the Deor boarders for a time...a short time at that. I followed a fae in, Cairo was her name. You must remember her at least...she was quite taken by your friend Luci. He stopped then, closing the door on any further explanations. Cairo had after all, left him not too long after that meeting. Running off in chase of another, one quite different from himself. Enough so to show Dakota he had never had a chance with her at all. Her parting had been like poison to the proud male. It had festered in his heart until the point of his own departure, a cowardly and hasty exit in which he had for once, ignored the honorable codes that otherwise ruled his every move. Neglecting to even speak with the alphas, Dak had slipped out one night, never to look back, never to see his pack mates again. At least that had been his intention. Fate it seemed, had other plans for the male.
Sighing deeply Dakota resigned himself to the situation he was now in. He did not wish to offend Mist, nor were troubles any fault of her own. The male was simply at a loss for words. He did not know how to explain away his actions and doubted there was even a way to do so. He'd been so young then. So caught up in playing rouge to the lands, in sapping all the fun he could from those around him. He'd been without direction and cuase...he'd been so careless in his youth. Despite what the male had grown into today, the actions of his past still seemed to ride heavily upon Dak's broad shoulders. None the less, the male knew he could expect no ridicule from the seasoned fae before him. She had been like a den mother to his eyes, watching over the pack with a dedication he himself was only recently able to display. Setting back upon his haunches, Dakota flashed a quick smile at the fae. His white teeth seemed to glow against his otherwise dark face, lighting up his overall appearance. There for a moment, one could see the spirit beneath the male's hard demeanor. They could see the pride and passion, coursing through his veins. The freedom and need to run, waiting to burst free. There for a moment one could look into the male's soul. With a simple smile Dakota had let loose the tight grasp on his composure, for a second at least. He'd shown the fae what he was and could be in that moment. The mann he would be just as soon as he completed this chosen path. As soon as he secured the life now under his care.
Yet then like a flash, the male's mask of cold determination had slipped back over his face. He looked at Mist with eyes flashing brightly in the sun and when his voice came again it was filled with a sincerity born straight from the heart. "I am sorry, Mist", he said. "You must understand...this is not what I was expecting." That laugh came again, chocking down his words. Grimacing in sudden anger the male forced his body to cooperate. "My past.", he finally managed though his voice was hard and gruff. Almost as if he had been battling with himself then, forcing himself to accept and deal with the actions he'd made in his early youth. "...it's not something I think on often. I've not reflected on Deor in quite some time now...perhaps too long for I seem to have crippled myself in the process. Such thoughts should not hold this grip upon my mind." Sighing again the male tried hard to regain his resolve. Spitting out his inner thoughts to an otherwise total stranger would not be wise at all, besides...there was nothing to be gained from it. Should he ever hope to truly complete this task before him, all weakness would have to come to an end. "I must know....", he said quietly, taking the first step toward facing this particular demon in his mind. "What has become of the land I once called home?"
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Post by Mist on Mar 28, 2008 10:18:29 GMT -5
As she looks up from her distraction Mist finds Dakota to be in a similar state as the one she had, a moment before, shaken herself out of. Hoping her words were not harmful or disturbing in a way she could not have foreseen she watches him, trying to get a fix on either his mood or his reason for the transfiction. The first sign of change is a whispered word, "Yes...", followed an instant later with a confirmation of his identity and memory. Nodding slowly as she thinks back on how long ago it actually was she realizes it was before her cubs, and before she met Chayton - a lifetime ago. The two vargs had been much younger then. Many mistakes are made before wisdom is learned. How strange that she should meet Dakota Spirit on this day - many months later, and much changed. "Of course... I do remember." She replies softly, her voice woven with many emotions; after hearing his rather choked and surprising laugh. She inclines her head again in the beginning of a nod, listening to his recollection of his time in Deor. "Yes. I never knew Cairo well either, but I do remember her..." Her voice trails off as he mentions Lucivar, and her heart pangs, but at this time she cannot bring herself to tell the sorrowful news.
There is an echoing silence at this point as both vargs are lost in their thoughts. Dakota in his bitter recollection of Cairo and his nighttime venture away from his temporary pack lands. Mist always wondered what happened to both Cairo and him. They had left around the same time with no word she knew of. Having not known either of them well she saw everything from the standpoint of an observer, and had no inside knowledge. The way Dak said the fae's name she knows they did not leave together, and wonders what happened to the white faemme, and where she is now.
A small movement - of the ebon mann settling back on his haunches - makes her focus her attention back on the present and she is momentarily startled by the swift change in him at his smile. This is the Dakota she would most likely have known if they had become friends when he was in Deor. In a time with fewer troubles and responsibilities. A fiery, vibrant spirit - full of life and the potential for joy. She cannot help but smile back, but it is an action tinged with sorrow, for - as wonderful as it is to see this side of Dak, it is one that is too often hidden behind his somewhat stern mask of determination. She would bring it out more often if she could, but not all changes are good. At this point there is no way for her to do such a thing.
Then, like the disappearance of a flash of lightning, the mann's countenance returns to its former posture and Mist takes in a breath of air, almost as if she had been holding her breath until now. Golden eyes meet emerald ones as she gazes at him, seeing that spirit still, in its absence. Seeming to sense it there, just behind the emerald irises. His apology takes her off guard and the Drappa shakes her head, her heart filled with the same sincerity held in his voice. "No, honestly, Dak... there is no need for you to apologize." Saying nothing else for the present she listens to him, perceiving the inner struggle and pain his past puts on him. This meeting is not what she had expected either, and ever after she will probably look on it as strange; but it does not hurt her as it does him.
Not quite understanding his words she drops her gaze for a moment, only to raise her gentle eyes an instant later, full of resolve that this meeting won't be in vain - that it will at least leave something kind on the mann's heart, and not just pangs in his recollection. His voice comes to her again as he asks what has become of his former home. Taking a deep, shuddering breath she again looks into his eyes, determined to tell the truth, even though not long before she wished to avoid it. "Deor... well, much has changed, and yet, much is the same. It still looks the same - is still beautiful and noticeably peaceful. But... not long ago we suffered a terrible tragedy. Lucivar - of whom you spoke - was mate to Chalos Autumn, and Drappa." After hesitating a moment she swallows and continues, thinking it is already partly said - Dakota would have noticed the was... "She was killed by Nocturnia Diiore - Chalos's bloodthirsty, fiendish brother..." Lowering her head as her voice becomes raw with emotion, she tries to calm herself before continuing more softly. "Chalos is heartbroken... I was appointed Drappa not long ago to help him..." This last she says even more softly, before looking up slowly in order to see Dakota's face.
((Oh, right! I knew I recognized them... Whew, a lot of information in this post...))
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Post by Dakota Spirit on Mar 29, 2008 23:51:25 GMT -5
The male pressed his ears forward in interest as the fae began to speak. He had expected as much from Deor, still thriving and strong under the leadership of Chalos. Though Mist continued to speak he began to realize there was a bit more too it. Underneath the pack's brave facade it seemed that they too were reeling in the shock waves of a great lose. Lucivar, the bubbly fae who had met him upon his entrance into the pack had most recently met her untimely end. Taken by the jaws of a brute only slightly familiar to the dark male's mind. He'd heard the whispers of course, the rumors surrounding the death of Ge-Rad's matriarch. She too had fallen under the murderous intents of Nocturnia. Dakota sucked in a breath appreciatively. Robbing two leaders from the local packs was no easy task, one that despite the obvious treachery could not help but draw some for of grim respect from the black wolf. Nocturnia was sure to be quite a opponent, one to possibly stretch even Dakota's bravery to it's limits. Silently the black wolf found himself hoping to never cross paths with such a foe.
Taking note of the fae's slowly drooping head, the male pushed his wayward thoughts to the back of his mind. Feeling compelled to do something comforting for Mist, his would-be leader, Dakota took a few careful steps closer. Like a sentry taking up his rightful position, the male placed himself at her side before once again reclining back into a sitting position. "Take heart, kind drappa...", he whispered softly. Though his blocky muzzle was now inclined toward the fae, his eyes seemed locked forward. Almost as if he dared not look at her for fear of showing the uncertainty in his eyes. For these insecurities alone would betray the words he now spoke. Yet as Mist's head again lifted, he found himself turning to her regardless. His gaze was warm and kind as at last he continued, feeling the fae's pain wash over him in palpable waves. "Your sorrow runs deep now.", he spoke, deep voice still ringing quietly from his mouth. "...but with time you will find the strength you so desire. I've no doubt, Mist will be a formidable matriarch indeed." His lips turned up in another rare simile, an attempt to reassure her further. "You'll not let your family down."
Turning back away from her, Dakota paused to reflect upon his own words. How strange it seemed that they too applied to his own life. Such solid strength was what he sought most of all, for the journey he had recently undertaken would require more then he had yet to spare. He wondered for a moment, if he'd been foolish in undertaking this grand task. If at last his own pride and reckless heart had brought to a point he was beyond reaching. Still, the final moments of his meeting with the grey wolf flashed upon his subconscious once more. That look on his face, the gaze in his bi-colored eyes, twin to the one sparking within his own emerald orbs. Such things pushed the male's determination to it's lofty limits. There had to be hope for the future. Hope for redemption. For without it, Dak had nothing left for himself. Nowhere else to turn his efforts.
Dakota had remained at Mist's side throughout this time, his body tall and proud next to her. Though he had barely been but an acquaintance to the fae during his time within Deor the male felt a strange protection for her, as he did for all those in need. His heart truly beat for the underdog, for the one most needing of protection and reassurance. So much so, that his own cares were often turned away in his quest for honor. Yet it drew the best out the male, causing his features to soften slightly upon looking that the one currently under his care. He was an old soul, born far past his time. Turning to Mist, Dakota's white teeth flashed again in reassurance. "Take heart.", he repeated. "We shall both find our way."
[Sorry this isn't quite up to par - I'm not on my game tonight, I guess. The end is kind of sketchy but hopefully it gives you enough to work with!]
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Post by Mist on Mar 30, 2008 16:35:11 GMT -5
The Drappa's heart is heavy as she speaks and the reality of her situation and the tragedy comes crashing down, seeming to have been waiting for its chance. Her shoulders are bowed as if under a physical strain as well, and she takes a breath, trying to keep it calm and smooth. As Dakota comes closer and takes up a sentinel position next to her she turns her head slightly to look at him - brave and true though he has troubles of his own. This thought along with his gentle words of faith in her make her sit up and straighten her shoulders. She accepted this burden - it is not worthy of it to already be having qualms about her position. Her former packmate has enough faith in her to not only name her by her new title, but encourage her as well. There are other feelings that strike her heart as well at his words. The understanding and gentleness in his tone make her blink back tears. As his gaze washes over her like the familiar warmth of the sun she smiles back at him and nods - resolving not to let him, or anyone down. "Thank you, dear Dakota." Her voice is soft, but now steady, as it reaches his ears. "Your faith in me is truly appreciated, and... I think exactly what I need right now. The fates have been kind to us, allowing this meeting today after so long."
The smile strengthens as he mentions her becoming a formidable matriarch and her golden eyes seem to gain a glint of their normal brightness. It is not a thought she has had, but one that is likely to come true. With all the instincts and care of a mother she will do her utmost to protect and guide Deor while she is its Drappa. The few times any loved one has been threatened she has shown herself one to be reckoned with, and this will be no different.
As another rare smile lights up the dark mann's face she feels that light wash over her soul, and take away some of the weight from her heart. In a different life she may have leaned her head on his strong shoulder, but apart from gratitude for his strength and friendship this thought does not cross her mind. With an easier heart she is free to, at least momentarily dwell on things other than her problems, and she keenly wonders about him. Something about his demeanor or perhaps simply how many kerl's lives are, keep her from asking about his. Though she has no idea about any of his own burdens she wishes she could do something to help him - to repay him for the strength she has lent her this day when she needed it most. Her voice is heard again, still softly. "You have given me strength today when I thought there would be no one to help. Though you have, at least for the present, chosen a kerl's life, know that you will always be welcome in Deor, Dak. If you turn to pack life again, I hope you will come back to us - we could use you..."
His reassuring words come again and she nods, having taken them for truth each time. "You have helped me at least see a little way along my path. I hope you will find yours as well."
((Heh, I was thinking "this is why there are counselors"... I feel like this was a rather cheesy post - 'm quite sorry! Oh, and I really liked your post - no worries. ^_^))
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Post by Dakota Spirit on Mar 31, 2008 0:07:04 GMT -5
[Lol, cheesy is my middle name. Don't worry about it  ]
Pleased with the fae's reaction, the dark male allowed his white smile to remain for awhile longer. He watched Mist as she pulled herself together, slumped shoulders rising up in stubborn determination, and golden eyes glinting brightly. His grin broadened wider across his face as she transformed. It was a hopeful sight, one that set his heart going again with pride and a steel coated will. If this fae, this lone drappa could find the courage to pull her pack back into the sunlight then he too could push through the chocking darkness. Just this side of the river his 'sunlight' waited. With his eyes locked upon the grey femme, Dakota could not help but this was not too far a distance. Her inner strength hardened him against doubt, having displayed the qualities he knew he would soon need.
Hearing her voice rise up to him, Dak turned his head away from her. Though it seemed improbable that she would know the effect her words would have on him, the male did not wish for Mist to see his vulnerability. The fae was wise, she would most likely see the truth despite his resistance...but Dak could not bring himself to willingly display such traits. He could not show her his lying eyes. Eyes that flashed in more then just strength. Eyes that would show Mist, without a doubt, the thick layer of uncertainty still right below his skin. It was not for thoughts of his journey ahead that caused Dakota to turn his head away this time, but instead the invitation present on Mist's words. "Come back to us..." His mind played with her words, bouncing them back at him ten fold. How long had it been, since he'd belonged anywhere? Since he'd had a comrade in which to lend a helping hand. How long had it been since Dakota had felt truly at home? Just recently the male had come in contact with another fae not to far from where he presently sat. She too had spoken of his alliances to the land. "What title do you carry?", she'd asked. "Are you a kerl of these lands?" Then the grey wolf before her. Voice bitter and angry, he'd allowed the words to fall from his lips in uncontrolled spite. "What does it feel like to tread without company or the love of a companion?" His face grimaced at the memory, biting back any further sounds welling within his throat. "You may as well not exist at all"
Though the one to have spoken those words was not the wolf Dak sought with such relentlessness, the whispered words at the start of their encounter still bit at him privately. How much of it was true? When this world of his finally came to it's crashing end, how would he be remembered? How could he have ever hoped to survive alone on the trails without a pack, without another soul, without any company beyond that of his own voice? Finally turning back to the fae beside him, Dakota's face was a mask of blank emotion. He felt guilty, thinking only moments before that he'd been past this. Thinking that the strength within the drappa had secured the knowledge and strength within his own heart. Thinking that this meeting would only serve to show him for sure, that he was past such inner weakness. It seemed that once again, the fates were playing at his heart. Showing him what he wanted, only to steal it away.
"Thank you, Mist", he eventually said in response. "I shall keep such an invitation close to me at all times...though I remember my last venture within the realms of pack life proved to be less then successful" The male's deep voice rumbled softly from within his sore throat. Dakota stood, suddenly embarrassed to be where he was, so close to the fae and moved back to his original position. In doing so, the male had unknowingly exposed the other side of his neck to Mist's bright eyes. The wound there, still fresh from battle glared up in wet contrast with his dry dark coat. Blood clotted thickly around it, matting down a small patch of fur around the bite. Once healed, a scar was sure to remain - careful to remind the male for all eternity, what could have occurred on the fields between his old friend and himself. His other injuries were worn with pride, gained in the warriors life of battle. But this one, this wound was sure to nip at his conscious for years to come. It would bring no pride with it's remembrance, but shame instead. Shame for his part in the foul making of it's occurrence. It remained there, upon his skin seeming for that moment as a physical reminder of the scars and gashes now worn within his mind. [Not a lot of dialog - but I tried to give an in for further conversation in there! Let me know if I need to add more] |
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Post by Mist on Mar 31, 2008 22:38:26 GMT -5
Noticing Dakota watching her while she straightens up Mist returns his smile, grateful, but wondering what his thoughts are. What he must think of her - shouldering an unfamiliar burden. The silvery fae wonders how others see her - especially now, with her own family to look after and a pack thrown into turmoil and shock. Mentally shaking herself she firmly decides not to think of it this way if she can help it. There dark times as well as light ones in life, and this will all pass. As she voices her thanks and assurance of a place for him in Deor she is curious when he turns his head away from hers, carefully keeping his eyes out of her gaze. While encouraging her and helping her live up to her position he shoulders his own burdens. Inwardly frowning at herself for not having thought much about this dark mann in front of her, and having simply focused on her own problems she realizes he very possibly meant it to be that way. Everything in his stance and voice so far has portrayed incredible strength - it makes sense that such a mann would not want to speak of his own problems when faced with another's.
Wishing she knew him better and would feel comfortable asking him if it would help to speak of such things, Mist sighs softly. There was nothing but truth in her words, and it would be wonderful for him to return, but... perhaps he would not now wish to? He had spoken of Deor as the land he once called home, and had mentioned not thinking of the pack for a while. That would explain his reluctance to look at her... but, it is also perhaps something else. Any number of things would equally well explain his action. Lowering her eyes the drappa tries to imagine Dakota's reaction if she were to ask him the reason. Having plucked up as much courage on the matter as she is likely to ever grasp, she starts to open her mouth to speak when he turns again to her, his face now blank and emotionless.
This change is surprising, and the fae would rather have had him turn to her with his eyes full of pain, ready to pour out his feelings to her. But no, that is too much to ask. But the absence of emotion speaks volumes as well - just less openly. The only reason for this would be if he has something to hide. His thanks is genuine, and she is grateful for his promise to keep the invitation in his heart, but she cannot help but shake her head slowly at the next words. "I do not think you know this, but I have not always lived in Deor... yes, I was adopted by the first Drappa and Dragga when I was very young, but... after they and my brothers were gone, I had no one left. I was a kerl for a year. I wondered often if I would still find a home in Deor when I chose to return, and it was hard at first, but I realized enough was still the same - I was welcome, and it once again became my home."
Taking a breath after saying this, remembering her family and all the good times she had growing up she feels a pang in her heart as her thoughts linger on her younger brother - Dias. It had been especially hard for him, and she was not surprised when he left - just incredibly lonely. Having lowered her eyes for a few moments she looks back up and meets his emerald ones, a gentle smile on her face. After a short few moments he seems uncomfortable and gets up to move to his former position, as he does so Mist's keen eyes fall on his jagged wound, blood clotted and dried on his neck. Taking in a sharp breath completely involuntarily she glances from the blood to his face, thinking at the sound he will probably have turned, and will be able to see the look on her face.
((It's excellent ^_^ This really is such an interesting thread - it's so original and unique. I've never RPed a situation like this before. Oh, and I meant to say earlier, I really like your new banner and avatar!))
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Post by Dakota Spirit on Apr 1, 2008 19:46:57 GMT -5
[No, nor have I. It's been really nice playing something new and interesting!]
The male listened attentively as Mist spoke her piece. Her words were true and genuine for he'd had no idea that she'd been anywhere but Deor in her lifetime. As a matter of fact, the fae had seemed such an intricate part of the Deor pack that he had a hard time imagining the bold ranks absent of her. He took the advice to heart, turning his emerald gaze upon the fae as he began to speak. "My dear Drappa...", he said evenly. "You have a way of bringing about the sun, even when the sky seems drenched in fog. Perhaps that alone is why you hold the position you do tod --", the male's voice broke off suddenly at the fae's sharp intake of breath. His words fizzled within him as he watched her gaze flick first to his bloodied neck and then to his face, confirming what she finally must have seen. A deep shuddering sigh welled within him then as he though of the implications of this moment. She was sure to be curious and he acting careless, had opened himself up sharing the emotions he'd been trying to hide from her since the start. Yet as he stood there watching her at length, Dak recalled the description he'd given her back during his days within Deor. Denmother, he'd called her then in response to the seemingly unending kindness that dwelt within her heart. Just in this short encounter he'd experienced nothing but support out of the fae, guidance offered to someone she barely even knew. His maw twitched uncertainly as he contemplated on this. Thinking at last that perhaps he'd wanted her to see this side along, in hopes that she'd ask him of it's doing, give him an excuse to confide in her. Just enough to make him alright again. Just enough to restore his faith.
Slowly crouching back upon his haunches Dakota looked picturesque against the land's new spring landscape. His dark coat standing in contrast to the tree's new faint green leaves, body tall and well built. His eyes alone would break the spell. Reflected within their depths was the jagged pain and bitterness he had so carefully concealed. When his lips parted in speech, the features of his face were not creased in joy or despair. His voice in turn, seemed mechanic and false. The deep vocals were vacant of the pride they once held, instead resonating with the icy edge of bitterness. "I should like to tell you a story of my own, I think.", he said softly. "You must forgive me, for it is not a burden that I wished to share. Nor is it something that can be helped by another - I only hope for you to listen. That perhaps in it's telling I will be able to...regain some of what I've lost. Swallowing deeply, Dak stood and walked back the few paces to Mist's side. His discomfort had not lessened any, but the male felt that this was something that must be done at a personal level. If he was to truly trust in Mist at this level, he wanted to do it face to face as he would expect from anyone else.
Dak sat by her silently for a moment, before proceeding with his line of thought. "This pain, this physical pain...", he said bending his neck to expose the deep wound once more. "It is nothing. Nothing beyond what I deserve. The male's haunted eyes roved the skyline before him, still unwilling to look point blank upon the fae. "I'm sure by this point you've sorted out at least some of my personality traits. My pride, someday to be the death of me and my honor, the only thing I've got out on these lands. I've been a kerl all my life. Or at least, for the better part of it. My birth pack was small and made for an easy target. It wasn't long before we fell to the jaws of those dark wolves...they came one night and took every last one of my family members from me. " Dak's large body shook involuntarily as the memories poured out. For a moment, he almost seemed a pup again. Frightened and alone as he'd once been, all those years ago.
"But,", Dakota continued. "That's beside the point. It only serves to illustrate why I am who I am today. That moment taught me that you needed strength to survive and that should you be caught without it....your life might as well be forfeit. I trained relentlessly, spending my adolescences honing the skills my mother would have taught me herself, had she still been alive. It wasn't long into this time that I came across another wolf, a grey wolf who was to be perhaps my closest friend." Dakota turned to Mist, looking at her for the first time since he'd begun talking. The look upon his face all but begging the fae to understand. To listen and offer the same kindness he'd come to expect in her. "We traveled for a time, he and I. Though I cannot recall the exact date of our splitting I believe it to be some time around my departure for Deor. Dane, that was his name, he wasn't much for pack life. At least, that had been my belief at the time. Again the male's head bent away from the fae as he became immersed in his memories. So much had changed between then and now, so much so that Dak found himself wondering how he could ever put it into words. None the less, he continued. As if a dam within him had been broken, ghosts from his past, having been locked away for years now came surging forward with a force he was unable to deny.
"Beyond that, it's not important.", he said slowly. "I was in Deor for a time and then on my own once more. That is all that one need know about the months in between then and now. The important thing is that most recently, I came across Dane once more - just beyond these fields. Age had turned us both. I had grown, filled out. I had become somewhat more resined then I once was but...all and all I was not too far from who I'd once been. My brother on the other hand..." The title slipped from his maw with very little thought. Dane had always been his brother, perhaps not by blood, but by something more. They had bonded for their similarities, for the likeness within them, they had found companionship in each other. This had been Dakota's understanding upon their parting, but he know wondered what thoughts the grey male had left with. It was clear to him that they had not lived along the same lines. They were no longer quite as similar as they'd once been.
"We fought.", the male said simply. "Something had gotten to Dane. Something dark and twisted. Something that had turned him against me. He stood before me nothing more then a bitter obedient machine. At last, the male's eyes sparked in passion, blazing past the pain and into the anger he now felt for those that had his friend from him. "Though the end of our encounter was a little less bloody then the start, Dane has returned from whence he came. I suspect a pack for the scent upon his pelt was thick with the smell of others. I do not yet know where he has found his new home...but I shall soon find out. His trail lies just beyond those trees." Dakota's muzzle tipped in the direction of a small cluster of green trees and thick brush, indicating the mountains and marshy lands beyond. His gaze was hard and unyielding, matching the sharp fangs that had begun to show within his mouth as it curled up in an unconscious snarl.
Do you understand?", he asked at long last. "Had I been there when he needed me. Had I been with my brother instead of chasing some fae, instead of taking time with others...he would not be where he is today. On my honor, I swear he would not have been taken by their dark ambitions." Throughout this long recount of his past, these last words were the only ones delivered with the flat stubbornness that was normally such a part of the black male. They were at the heart of his despair and thus invoked the most emotion from the Dak's proud demeanor. "I failed him.", he said. "How can I promise myself to any other, to protect and serve, to honor the family pack when I could not even save my own brother? How can I take up your invitation knowing what I caused before?" The male's gaze remained fixed upon the path he would soon have to take. He watched, transfixed as the grass and leaves swirled softly in the cool breeze. "I am no warrior.", he said finally. "I must redeem myself before ever claiming such a title. I must bring Dane back. I must show him back to the sun." Taking to his feet, Dak stood next to Mist almost as if he needed to convince her of the truth in his words. Almost as if she was the one and not himself that needed such reassurance. "I will..", he said, quieter this time. "I will bring him back."
[Okay...really didn't mean for this to get so long. I was trying to fit everything in and Dak has a lot of back story. Hope it's ok - message with any concerns ] |
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Post by Mist on Apr 1, 2008 21:40:20 GMT -5
The knowledge that her words have some positive impact on the ebon mann makes Mist smile softly, and she listens with interest, not for the first time wondering if she will hold up the high standards of the drappas before her. There was no other real candidate for the position, so she understands why she was chosen, but thinks if there had been someone else, perhaps she would not have been first choice. That is, however, neither here nor there - and does not matter. Dak's emerald gaze turns away from her as he begins to pace, and he unknowingly turns his injury toward her. Her gasp has the expected effect and he cuts off sharply, instantly taking in her look and the reality of the matter. Possibilities of his reaction strike her and she braces herself, hoping he will not be angry. Of course she knows he will not turn on her - that is not his character - but he hadn't voluntarily shown it to her, and may be angry with himself. The half-expected retort never comes, and its place is taken with a shuddering sigh - revealing the emotion hidden just a moment before by the blank mask.
No words follow immediately and she looks back at him, noticing his eyes seem to soften as he looks at her lengthily. What thoughts must be passing in his mind? Tilting her head she softens her own gaze, feeling their earlier positions switched. He had then been the strong protector, offering guidance and strength and putting the bright flame of hope in her aching heart. Now he is the one who must need guidance - who needs that small spark to burst into flame. She will do her best - stay faithful and open if he chooses to seek her help, but it is, after all, his choice.
As he sits once more, a few paces from her, he looks every inch the capable varg. Strong, muscular, and proud, a king among putnar. It is only his eyes - deep, fathomless pools, that show his pain. His voice, when heard again, has a jagged edge of bitterness, reflecting the emotion in his eyes. He has chosen.
Watching him intently the proud silver drappa turns her ears forward, as to best catch every word. He starts out with a sort of introduction - it is his story he now wishes to tell - as she had a short time ago told of her past and present life. Slowly she shakes her head as he asks for forgiveness, saying silently that there is no need to ask for it. Some burdens are too heavy to shoulder alone, no matter how strong or capable the shoulders that heft it. Some are meant to be shared - or simply to be partially relieved by their telling. The opposite of these thoughts is voiced next and though Dakota says no help can be gotten from another she hopes he is wrong, and that this telling will help, if there is nothing else she can do. As the black wanderer returns to her side she does not take her eyes off him, and realizes that, as the information is personal, so should the telling of it be.
The silence between them for the next moments is understandable - one preparing to tell of a life's burdens does not do so in an instant. It is, however, of a different kind of pain he first speaks - saying that it is nothing compared to the anguish twisting his soul. The knowledge of how his physical wound but pain him makes the revelation even more jarring. Narrowing her eyes as he bitterly says he deserves any pain the injury causes him she shakes her head, not believing that this kind, understanding mann could have committed anything so atrocious. Pride and honor. The next two main words that fall from his lips - one that may cause his eventual fall, the other... that has perhaps kept him from falling before. They both keep him strong - his life as a kerl has not been easy, and as he tells of its cause Mist lowers her eyes for a moment, wondering about her own birth pack, and how she was fortunate enough to be found and welcomed - adopted in fact - into Deor. How was it that she was the one who has lived most of her life as a pack varg, and he as a kerl. They both had similar beginnings... what was it that made their lives so different? Though there is an ever-present thirst for the knowledge of her origins the fae looks back up, telling herself that this is not the time for that.
As she does so he finishes speaking for the moment, his voice betraying his sorrow at the same time as his body starts shaking. Reaching out with a soft-padded paw she touches him on his foreleg in a gesture of comfort, unknowingly similar to the action Dak himself had done when he could have been killed not many days before. Perhaps one day he will experience the joys pack life has given her and will realize how beautiful life can be, but for now she just wants to make sure he knows he is not alone. She feels like his mother - like he is a cub, frightened of a thunderstorm or feeling the heavy weight of guilt after hurting a sibling in a hasty act of anger.
His next words bring her back to her pondering over their similar origins. It is her fortune that she was brought up in Deor - with two brothers and loving parents. She could easily have been somewhere else on the day she met Aztec. Never met the kind, strong Drappa... Thoughts echo his words "that's beside the point" as she chides herself once more and focuses her attention fully on him. His first words of a grey mann give her some glimmer of an idea where this... confession might be going. The strength of emotion in his gaze as he turns to look at her for the first time during these words wrenches her heart and all she can do is try and put the same amount into her own eyes - but of understanding and gentle comfort.
As his words slowly reveal the true nature of his pain to her Mist understands as well as one can from the place of an observer. There is no way to fully know his feelings unless she was in his exact place, and that is not likely to happen. That Dane was - and seemingly still, deep down is - seen as a brother brings the nature of the pain even more into focus. Narrowing her eyes as she pictures how it would be for them. Brothers - meeting after a long time apart... a bloody fight, snarls, darkness of spirit for them both... and the way Dakota describes Dane makes her shudder visibly, closing her eyes against the vivid images. She only opens them to see the direction indicated when Dak tells from whence Dane came - the direction of his pack. There is one pack in that direction that comes to her mind - one capable of turning a once loving "brother" into a bitter... machine. "Sarnes." Though it is officially neutral with Deor, Mist holds no love in her heart for the vargs of the marshes...
It takes her a moment to realize she had spoken the name aloud, and she glances at him as he asks if she understands. Nodding slowly she shows that she does, but his further explanation goes to bring into focus exactly what he is asking - and the actual nature of his pain: guilt. Though she wants to speak - to assure him of her faith in him, she keeps silent, understanding he needs to be able to finish without interruption. The strength of his emotions and resolve are prominently heard and she nods once more before speaking, her voice soft but firm. "Dak... listen to me. You blame yourself for his life - where he is now. I do understand - but... it only hurts to keep pushing this blame on yourself. It is good to keep your resolve - to know you must help him and return him to what he once was, but it does not help to be burdened by such a heavy load. You cannot take responsibility for all that has happened. You could not have known what it would come to when you parted... I see why you do not wish to let down a pack - but Dak, the fact that you are going to do your utmost to raise Dane from this current pack and position shows that you have never truly let him down. You are stronger than you think, and if he is worth all the love you have to give him he will, with your help, be able to free himself from the darkness imprisoning him." Taking a deep breath after this firm belief of her words she lowers her head so her nose is but an inch from his, her eyes soft once again. "You will prevail - it is in you to do so... do not ever give up hope - but pass it on to the one who needs it most."
"Dak... Dane must have become what he seems because he lost hope. Because he lost himself... you must help him find it."
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Post by Dakota Spirit on Apr 14, 2008 18:16:45 GMT -5
[Sorry for the horrid wait, Mist. Hopefully this is somewhat worth it!]
Feeling Mist's warm touch upon his skin, the male was drawn away from the clouds of his mind and forced to focus instead on the words falling delicately from her mouth. Sarnes. The fae had uttered the name only moments before and now Dak felt himself being captivated by it alone. Sarnes. Like a chill entering his body, the swamp land title worked it's way into the dark wolf's warm and fragile heart. Compulsively, he felt his body shiver again as that vice that too held fast upon his heart tighten it's grip viciously. Sarnes was an all femme pack, or so it had started. Likened to the Balkar, they were cast offs, worshipers of Wolfbane who's gender alone kept them from the rank of Nighthunter. Yet it was not fear that invoked the shadows in Dak's heart but the same devastation that had commanded him to forfeit his life to Dane's will...had the grizzled mann gone forth with his crushing blow. Dakota felt his grip on reality once more beginning to waver, for here was born a brand new doubt. The once unshakable male did not know if he could forgive his brother in the end. If he could forgive him for taking up with those responsible for his family's death. For once, his morals failed to provide an answer. It seemed there would be no rest for these thoughts, not until he was face to face with Dane in the end.
Forever fighting the darken doubts, Dak pushed his ears ever forward, working to make the fae's voice first and foremost in his mind. She showed him faith and reassurance. Speaking of his responsibility in the matter and assuring his tormented soul that he had not failed...not yet. Then at last, Mist spoke of hope. Again bells went of in his mind, as he zeroed in on this one statement. It seemed hope was the key to everything and yet, they were all missing it. Instead of voicing such thoughts though, Dak turned his eyes back to the path he believed Dane to have taken. "If what you say is true...", he said quietly. "Then I bend all of my hope into the outcome of Dane's future. I give him everything...and I shall keep none for myself." He smiled ruefully, a melancholy look upon his face. Almost as if he had in his words, physically allowed the essence of his being to seep out and travel across countless miles for the aid of his old friend. "Do you know...", he asked the fae. "I told Dane when last I saw him, that taking my life could not help to end his sins. I think perhaps I was mistaken...that though I will not die now, I have given him my life none the less." His deep voice came in a great rumbling laughter, then. It was not forced this time, genuine yet still hinting at the depth of uncertainty within his interior. It was not the present situation that Dak found himself laughing at, but for what could be in the future. His own laughter sounded harsh in his mind, poking fun at the morals and virtues he'd long tired to hold above all else. Turning back to Mist, he told her this. "I've been looking for my purpose for so long.", he said. "A way to show my honor...when I have perhaps been walking that path all along. Where could there be more honor then in the act of giving up my life for the benefit of another." His words were false and without meaning, for Dak truly did not wish to lay down his life anytime soon. He wished on;y to end this heartache, to restore his life as it once was.
"Forgive me.", the male said for what felt like the hundredth time. "I know not what I say." He felt small and weak, standing before the fae with bitter words upon his lips. Only a few months past, the mann would have soon stayed his tongue, long before such declarations could ring from his throat. It was disgraceful to him, so much so that Dak felt his own head sagging in grief. "Forgive me.", he said again, quietly. "You offer me hope and I throw it back in your face. I do not deserve your kind words yet I shall take them greedily, keeping them close to my heart. When we too have parted, I shall think fondly of you Mist. I'll not forget your ability to look past my flaws..."
Silently, almost shyly, the big male briefly brushed his broad head against the fae's shoulder. Forgetting his pride for a moment, he wondered if she knew just how deep within his soul that she had stretched her good will. That for the first time in a long time, she had offered the male something he'd been missing all his life. The semblance of concerned family. A shoulder to lean on when times were rough and the support he'd never had.
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Post by Mist on Apr 15, 2008 19:26:09 GMT -5
Golden eyes narrowed at the thoughts of the vargs of Sarnes - living in darkness in the swamp-lands. Now that she thinks about it, she cannot help but wonder why they are neutral with Deor - most likely because there has been no formal declaration of enmity. There has been no war, and no battle apart from single feuds between the two packs. It seems Dakota recognizes the name, and feels somewhat the same at hearing the name. There is a dark aura surrounding it - what good could come from just a place? Nodding slowly as she notices him looking toward the dank lands. Though any Sarnes varg would certainly say every member chose that life for themselves, she tends to think of it as captivity as well. If Dane - Dak's 'brother' has joined their ranks, he has either changed completely from what he used to be, or was somehow seduced into joining.
Frowning at either possibility she turns her gaze back to the ebon mann next to her just as he begins to speak, his voice soft and low. "It must be true, Dak - for what are we without hope?" She replies, her voice at the same level, but with an underlying tone of firm belief. In her heart she feels that hope must always be present - if there is no hope, there is despair, and she has seen too many joys and small miracles in her life to give in to the darkness. It is her wish to give that hope to others, and in a way she voices this as she speaks again. "If you have lost - or will give all your hope to Dane in your venture, you need only find me again to at least see it. There will be dark times ahead, but the light is always there - you just have to look for it."
A sad smile appears on the Drappa's lovely face as if in reply to Dak's own and she nods, understanding - but thinking of it in a different way. "It is what some of us must sometimes do - for love." Lowering her head for a moment she sighs, frustrated at her inability to put her feelings into words. Looking up after that short time she smiles regretfully. "I wish I could tell you more clearly what I mean - what would most help you to hear. Since I feel I am unable to do it, I guess I must just do my best. When you need a friend - or a shoulder to lean on, I will be here for you, Dakota."
His words of honor are spoken rather strangely, and the laughter makes her frown slightly. His apology wipes that expression away and she shakes her head, reaching out to again touch his face, gently. "It is forgiven. Just know that I will never give up on you..." Smiling slightly at how that might sound to the great mann she continues. "I hope that, when we part, it will not be for ever. This time it was long, and we easily might have never met this day." Thinking further on this she opens her mouth as she wishes to make a suggestion, and then closes it, undecided, before deciding to speak her mind. "Perhaps you would delay our parting, and return with me to Deor? I know it is sudden... but I feel I know you well enough that you would appreciate being asked and given the chance."
Smiling once more, this time truly genuinely, she thinks on his words of her ability to look past his flaws, and for a moment a laugh makes its way out of her throat - a melodious sound, like the joyous trill of a particularly musical stream. "I am a mother, Dak. If I was not able to look past - flaws, as you name them - what kind of a mother would I be?" Though she no longer feels like his mother - and that was just a momentary image - she suddenly thinks of her brothers - one dead, the other... most likely as well - and is enthralled by the feeling of sisterly love toward this mann. As if she has been given another chance at having a brother - after living with years of heart ache after her brothers disappeared. It is an interesting thought - but Dak's is an unsure future. His gentle action reinforces her thought and she returns it, smiling softly as she brushes her head against his neck, careful to avoid his wound.((It most definitely was worth the wait ^_^ I hope this post is as well. I'm not sure about some of it, but *shrug* None of that did she say, so  you can ignore it. Oh, and I assume he didn't know she had cubs before this?))
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Post by Dakota Spirit on Apr 16, 2008 21:44:02 GMT -5
For the dark male, respect was not something easily handed out. He held others to the narrow code that ruled his own life and thus did not encounter many that truly deserved the customary bowing and showings of respect that were common practice among the wolves. Yet here as he stood, taking in the fae's gentle words, Dakota found himself overflowing with admiration for the wise fae. She countered his concerns easily, offering more then simple words of encouragement but even going so far to approach him further. Brushing against his skin as only a friend would."Thank you, my lady.", he whispered quietly for her ears alone. "You've rekindled my spirit with each passing word." His voice rose again, rumbling in true laughter, spirituous and full of the emotion it had lacked in the past. "Yes.", he said. "Love be the death of us all, though it shall be a sweet death." He smiled at the fae, flashing his white teeth as his face lit up in that rare joy. He wondered if Mist would ever truly know the role she had played on this night. Though he would have traveled down the same road regardless, it would have been an empty quest. He had been devoid of the emotion truly needed to push through the darkness waiting ahead. He had been missing so many things, until speaking with the fae. So he wondered for a minute, how ever would he be able to repay his debt. With her next question, it seemed he could at least take a step in the right direction. Returning with the fae, even for a moment, would provide him with more time to speak with her. More time to perhaps offer back something equal to the gift she had given him, whatever it may be.
"Yes, fair Drappa.", the male said at length. "I shall return with you, regardless of time it may take. I told Dane upon parting that we both needed time alone...and so must still my hasty movements toward him. I shall return with you.", he repeated. "And you shall have my support and my strength, as I can offer it, then and ever after for you have have proved a worthy ally." He paused for a moment longer, watching her, perhaps deciding how to phrase his next thoughts. Dakota's voice had grown quiet again, though it was solid and sure. "And you shall have my love.", he spoke. "For you have proved worthy of that too." His dark eyes blazed in their emotion, foretelling the lengths he would be willing to go to in order to make his words true. It was an oath to the femme, for the male did not speak lightly on such subjects. Mist spoke of being a mother, of having a family, and so his love was not of the romantic kind. Instead it was a measure of their kinship, the love one shares with a brother or sister. The same love that was to send him chasing across the land after the gray male.
Feeling the fae touch him again, carefully minding his wounds, Dak is spurred to his feet. "Come!", he announced. "Let us despair no longer and let the heavy subjects rest, for we have spoken enough on them tonight. Let us move forward!" Dak, turned to Mist with a true grin upon his handsome face. "Lead me to your lands, my friend.", he asked her. "My feet ache to once again be in the land of the bold."
[Kinda short, but I figure since they are going to be up and moving (and I wasn't sure if this thread is ending for the new one...) I shouldn't bring on a whole new slew of questions Nope, Dak knew nothing of Mist beyond that she belonged to Deor] |
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Post by Mist on Apr 17, 2008 20:17:05 GMT -5
Something in Dakota’s stance reveals to her his lightening of heart even before he speaks. As his soft voice comes to her ears Mist dips her head slowly in reply, interested by his use of “Lady”. In a way it could be said to be one of her new titles, but is unfamiliar for her still. Softly breathing she smiles – everyone must die, and though many warriors would scoff at such a thought it is truly a beautiful one – to die for love. Of course she has no wish to die any time soon for any reason, but there will be a time… Dazzling golden eyes sparkle as if in response as he smiles and reveal her joy as he states his intention. “My heart is glad to hear that, Dak.” Glancing Southeast in the direction they will take she indicates it with a movement of her head. “If you had been going straight to Sarnes you would most likely head North and then turn East at the river, this way we will go mostly East to Deor, and from there it is North and a bit West.”
Turning her head to look back at Dak she smiles slightly, indicating that, though his future may be hard, there is no reason not to enjoy this time together – he will be able to return to his former home, and hopefully decide to return after his ‘quest’ is completed. Promises of his support and strength now and in the future turn her smile into a more flourishing one and she dips her head once more in thanks. “Your promise leaves me in no doubt of that. Thank you, Dakota – that means much to me.” Hearing his next pledge of love she thinks again that she is, in a way, being given another chance. Her heart has often ached with thoughts of her lost brothers, and now, she has another – but steadfast and strong, at her side.
It is at that point she reaches out to nuzzle him gently, her eyes and her touch saying it all. A moment later the strong black mann springs lightly to his paws, followed swiftly by the graceful grey fae. With the fierce strength of their kind the two leap forward easily, the spring breeze gusting joyfully through their fur as if encouraging them – urging them on towards their goal. Fleet footed and sure they race side by side. Laughing in jubilation Mist glances at the proud mann. Oh, what it is to be a varg.
((Last post. Odd ending *shrug*))
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