The Same old Song and Dance
06-24-2013, 12:36 AM
Wolf from dawnthieves, manip by Ocena. Character belongs to Deneke! The woman nodded her head in reply to the maiden's gratitude for the rodent. She simlpy watched as the dame swallowed the thin creature whole, moonstone orbs gleaming with an unidentifiable emotion. She witnessed the look on the pearl she wolf's face as she introduced herself, the interest in her bi coloured eyes, how she seemed to approve the choice her mother had made. Those uniquely pigmented optics turned downwards to gaze at Aurora's snowy banner, enraptured by the ebony feathers embedded in the fur of her tail. A smile crossed the dame's face as she watched the creamy white she wolf's eyes widen, then return to meet the icy temptresses own eerie silver gaze. At her question, the damsel couldn't help but chuckle, the faint vocalization of joy like the tinkling of tiny silver bells mixed with the sweet song of a mockingbird. As she parted her dainty maw to reply, memories washed over her, of how she came to possess those distinct feathers, the pride in her fathers eyes as he watched the ceremony in which they were bestowed, the tears welling in her mothers as she witnessed it at his side. Shaking off the onslaught before more brutal ones could replace them, she began to explain. "Well, my dearest Song, my family believed that one's first kill should be the one creature they saw first, and was to aid it in one's afterlife, and was usually a bird, for the lucky ones. We called them our 'destined form', and when they were caught, they were killed with the utmost respect and swiftness, for otherwise their souls would not merge with our own during the ceremony that followed. In that ceremony, the most important aspect of the entity was removed carefully, and merged with a certain part of one's anatomy. I had seen a wolf of the opposing pack with mole claws embedded in his forehead like a terrible dragon. For me, I caught a raven. I had chosen to have a single feather from both wings embedded in my tail. What is done, is something most would find to be... Well, gruesome. The pack's Shaman would use his or her claws to poke holes in one's skin and place the feathers inside them, so the bird's spirit could enter the body. Eventually, if the spirit merged, the feathers would become embedded within the skin, and never removed. When one dies, these feathers are the building blocks of their destined form." She said, tongue rolling, tapping her massive ivory canine's gently, and her voice lilting gently, soft and silky, marred slightly by her faint Russian accent. As she spoke, her tail swept across the ground behind her regally, dancing across the powdery snow as she explained. Her eyes wandered, searching the treeline with a distant, faraway look in those consuming metallic optics. Far away, an eagle screeched, and a tear threatened to fall from those cold eyes. She shook her head, and looked at the other woman, waiting for her response calmly and quietly. "speech!" |