Post by Tryavna on Sept 3, 2009 18:30:33 GMT -5
(Trya's just here to start some mischief. Thread will probably be quick. open)
Everything in the wood was a cool shade of nocturnal blue. Vaulting black trees, their trunks and boughs lined with colors like indigo and aqua, towered over the carpeted forest floor and cast obscure shadows on the ground. Pools of milky moonlight dappled the myriad of forest paths, illuminating the wood and lending it an almost surreal glow. Every bit of flora looked soft and unassuming in the watery light; nearly every visible bird and beast did too, with the exception of the lone wolf who darted quickly through the trees. While her silver fur and svelte physique made her look like a faint outline in the gloomy wood, the same could not be said for her vivid eyes, which now glowed harshly from her bony face. They blazed like garish yellow-green lanterns, hungry and gulping in the darkness.
The silver drappa slipped between the trees like water through a sieve, her body melting into the shadows. Her breath smoked eerily in the frosty moonlight darkness, curling around her sharp muzzle like a misty cloud until dissipating entirely. Her fur, especially the long coarse hairs across her shoulders and down her spine, stood rigid, as if with sweat. Though languid and moving smoothly, Trya was tense. There was a measure of excitement and thrill in her bright eyes, adrenaline coursed through her body. She knew this was dangerous. If the pack caught her, she might very well be dead. There was an altercation or two the last time her pack tried to scavenge food from an established territory. A few of her mates were cut and bruised. 'But it happens to everyone, scavenger or not.' She peeled away from the fringe of Deor and further into its territory.
The stars winked and twinkled in the brief glimpses she caught of them. She felt like they were goading her on. A toothy smile, small and sharp, stole across her thin face and then disappeared in an instant. 'I'm going,' she thought. 'I'll make it.' Suddenly, the thick wood opened up before her. Gnarled trees pushed her through into a large, white-washed clearing. She stood unprotected, exposed, surprised. Her ears and nose twitched, her eyes flicked all around. Yet, as far as she could tell, she was still undiscovered by the local denizen of this particular forest. She smiled and sighed softly. "Thank Tor that they sleep so soundly here," she whispered, then Trya tiptoed back into the safe shadows. Just as she disappeared from view, however, the most unpleasant thing happened: she smelled someone, and she froze.