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May 26, 2005 19:18:53 GMT -5
Post by Shatila on May 26, 2005 19:18:53 GMT -5
Shatila whittled her loud voice down to a whisper as she inclined her brow towards her siblings, her breath stroking them, her plans of what she knew she had begun and what she hoped would become dancing the forbidden. Orion was to her left, Denisha two her right, and all together they built an invinsible wall of immature and tough brats. As the oldest Shatila fancied herself the duchess, the monarch, the top dog, but it was all equal; it was all good and wholesome as they coiled the invisible springs in their gangly puppy legs and prepared to launch off into the mischief of the eve...
The memories... she couldn't believe she had left that fun and carelessness at List when her Aunt Bila died. It wasn't her fault, but what was there to do but grow up and find responsibility amist all the blame she laid so easily, easy as leaving prints in the loam of a streambed. "Gah," Shatila remarks as she pokes her tongue from her tapering jaws, somewhat refined and elegant as her beautiful mother the drappa Fiory, yet pursing the rugged features of her father Bristol. He was also gone, but Shatila had never known him as a father, as a wolf, as an anything. It was impossible to forget Bila, but it was also impossible to miss something that was never there in your heart in the first place.
But atleast Shatila had returned to List.
Suddenly, while laying her squared chin across her paws, so much her mother's dainty paws, a noise stirred amist the sassafrass thicket but a few paces away. A rare wind then whipped, shrill and moaning through the branches above, and Shatila knows she had heard something. Perhaps it was but a dove's croon, or the guttral hack of a young boar, yet Shatila mused she could overanalyze the mutter into sentances and words. "Is somebody there?" the icy growl threatens quite proudly as her father would, wanting nought to be a coward and to be the warrior that her brave Aunt Bila was. With a swish of her ebon tassel the young she-whelp darts forward, liquid and melting into the shadows as one of her mentors, Lyft, had carefully nailed into her brain as soon as she learned to stop weaving the forest and start being the forest...
//recycling of the old post-ness//
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May 29, 2005 21:56:48 GMT -5
Post by Gryffin on May 29, 2005 21:56:48 GMT -5
A mile away deep in List territory a lone femmora wandered. Her tail was high as it swished from side to side. Ebon nares pressed towards the terra as she scented the area. Her belly was for once full but still hanging from its jaws was a hare. The fae turned her eyes of emerald dazzle glowed as it looekd around the area, glowing under Fenris's bright rays.
The fae padded onwards, pressing through the now dense forests of green. It still smelt sweet of nectar as all sorts of insects buzzed about. Somthign flew around Gryffin, annoyign her. A fly, a beetle, Gryffin didn't know, all she saw was a black dot whirlign aroudn her, its low but never ending buzzing nearly blew Gryffin up. Growling Gryffin lashed out blindly and snapped at empty air as theh are hnging from her jowls dropped heavily to the floor. Gryffin snarled and snapped at the air again and sighed when the buzz faded out. GRyffin bent her muzzledown to pick up her catch and continued to pad back towards the dens when she felt a pain behind her ear. Gryffin yelped in shock and threw her hare onto the ground,letting it thud once more. Gryffin sat down and brought her hind feet up, scratching hopelessly as she watched the block dot fly away in triumph. Gryffin whined as she felt the bump where the bug had bit her, it was dangerously itchy. Gryffin shook out her fur and picked up her prize and pressed on, her paws fast now.
So fast had she bounded that Gryffin did not notice that a new, yet old scent lingered in List territory. GRyffin was aimed forwards, tail flying out behind her like a banner as the wind carressed her facade. She missed the scent of the pup and didn't hear the rustling about her either, nor the question, but Gryffin did hear a blurred voice.
She slowed her pace to a trot, just in case. Gryffin's eyes never failed her. Gryffin stopped abruptly and starred at the bushes where she had saw a dark form dissapear into the depths of the foliage. Gryffin cocked her head and stared harder, trying to bore through the thick bushes of bracken. "Denisha?" Gryffin asked, "Orion?" Gryffin asked again. Gryffin looked padding closer. Her eyes searched the leaves and saw the ebon form. Though Shatila would have been invisable to some others, Gryffin's eyes had been trained to seek out other's hiding, for she had also been trained by Lyft.
Gryffin padded forwards, hackles bristling as her auburn muzzle poked through the leaves and starred at the dark hued she pup. Gryffin squinted her eyes, brow frowning as she blinked dumbfounded at the pup. The familiarity was all too much. Gryffin stood quiet for the moment when she finally made the last connections. Denisha? No. Orion? no this was a fae. Fiory? Little Fiory... Shatila? Shatila?!
Gryffin blinked and dropped the hare a third time. THe fae was now larger, and had grown since the last time Gryffin had saw her, but Gryfin knew, that it was most definatly Shatila. "Sha-Shatila?" Gryffin said, but she could not hide her excitement and joy in her emerald hues. Stila!" Gryffin barked now, wondering dearly if the she pup would remember the tri coloured femme. Behind the joy and excitement came hurdles of questions. Where had she been all this time? What had happened? Where had she gone?
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Jun 1, 2005 14:52:53 GMT -5
Post by Shatila on Jun 1, 2005 14:52:53 GMT -5
Shatila’s gaunt maw dropped when the sound of a trot had sped up to a full-on lope towards her, and it fractioned a notch further when she heard Gryffin’s answer seeping through the leaves. Unlike the scout, the black yearling had not been tutored to use her vision as an asset, except she didn’t have a very powerful eyesight anyhow. After a while, Gryffin of List was clearly spotted as she neared Shatila by a few paces, and the onyx fae studied her with esteem. Leohlic’s daughter, as Shatila had grown accustomed to calling her, was now no longer in the lanky year-old stage that Shatila was in, but now she was quite a handsome creature. Gryffin still had the same festive olive eyes, though, as Shatila noticed before avoiding them. She assumed she was still the alphas’ daughter, though Gryffin was most likely the beta now.
Finally, Shatila remembered she was supposed to answer. “Oh, why hello, Gryffin!” Shatila exclaimed, not a hair short of pure excitement, nor hesitant to display it. The juvenile bounded towards the older varg, her head level with her shoulders and tail wagging low in submission, so that when she reached Gryff, she gave her a warm and submissive lick on the maw. “And how are you doing this afternoon?” at this point Shatila put aside pecking order and raised her dial, eyes twinkling and ears swiveling to every little sound. She was a bit on edge, yes, but for a young wolf, this was understandable. Slowly, Shatila padded about the figure of Gryffin and gave her a friendly sniff. “Ah, after a hunt, I see.”<br> Grinning ear to ear, so that her pearly daggers shined, Shatila wondered how she would explain her absence. It had been a moon or two that she had been missing from the List territory. Half a lunar month would be understandable for hunting, scouting, and spying in distant lands, however Shatila was too young for a longer journey. And she had been alone, which made it worst. Being all by herself with no one to care for and no one to love her had actually convinced her to return. The winter nights had become harsher and aloof, the trees unable to understand her pain, and hunting was a chore when there was no one to labor with. Dredging up the memories of damp, insomnia-ridden nights caused the smirk to falter, flicker, and finally diminish. Shatila was staring at the soil near Gryffin’s paws as she furrowed her brow in deep thought.
“Where is mother? I fancy she should want to know of my homecoming…” Shatila trailed off. For the first time she realized that her parents may not want her back, nor the rest of the pack. Tor! Gryffin could just be a tad keyed up to see her at the moment, but that could all fade away into hostile protection of the territory. “Oh, Gryff!” she suddenly burst out dramatically, trying not to shake with the anticipation of banishment at arrival. “Shall we tell her? Should I just go?” At these last overwhelming words, Shatila’s auditories slacked against her air-tight cranium.
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