To the Weast [Aurielle]
The mistake is on purpose.
04-09-2020, 04:02 AM
D O V E W H I T E
The sun beamed down as Dove gazed at the sky, making an effort to keep one of the far off leaves between his eyes and the beacon of the sky. Shufflling sounded nearby, and Dove turned to catch the sound, an ear already flicking towards it.
He squinted his eyes, the scent of peppermint coiling around his nose as the woman drank from the pool on nigh. The sight of her coat might as well have been a flare in the desert, and for a moment, Dove mistook her as illusion because her bright bearings. But illusions bore no scent and rarely spoke as this one did, so he supposed she existed on the corporeal plan with the rest of the mortals. He returned her greeting with a murmured, "Hello," noting the other creatures with her and keeping his distance. One creature was another small feline that he lacked the knowledge to identify and the other was a creature he'd never seen before but likely couldn't begin to guess at the name of it. Even considering the near-meltdown he'd had only a week prior, he still would have kept his distance, as one that shied away from contact on a normal basis, no matter the case. So he stayed beneath the tree at his back, the shade there protecting him from the sun even if it didn't alleviate the pounding, heavy heat.
Dove glanced again at the woman, squinting his eyes again, and with none of usual tact asked, "Are all wolves in this land graced by the gods' own touch?" Thus far, he'd encountered two wolves with large, tusk-like teeth (and one of those wolves had had wings, as well) and a wolf with the very colors that shimmered on the horizon adorning his fur. There was either something in water or something in the air, and nothing short of the goddess of creation herself descending from the heavens and telling him, would convince Dove otherwise.
He walks. "He speaks." He thinks.
The sun beamed down as Dove gazed at the sky, making an effort to keep one of the far off leaves between his eyes and the beacon of the sky. Shufflling sounded nearby, and Dove turned to catch the sound, an ear already flicking towards it.
He squinted his eyes, the scent of peppermint coiling around his nose as the woman drank from the pool on nigh. The sight of her coat might as well have been a flare in the desert, and for a moment, Dove mistook her as illusion because her bright bearings. But illusions bore no scent and rarely spoke as this one did, so he supposed she existed on the corporeal plan with the rest of the mortals. He returned her greeting with a murmured, "Hello," noting the other creatures with her and keeping his distance. One creature was another small feline that he lacked the knowledge to identify and the other was a creature he'd never seen before but likely couldn't begin to guess at the name of it. Even considering the near-meltdown he'd had only a week prior, he still would have kept his distance, as one that shied away from contact on a normal basis, no matter the case. So he stayed beneath the tree at his back, the shade there protecting him from the sun even if it didn't alleviate the pounding, heavy heat.
Dove glanced again at the woman, squinting his eyes again, and with none of usual tact asked, "Are all wolves in this land graced by the gods' own touch?" Thus far, he'd encountered two wolves with large, tusk-like teeth (and one of those wolves had had wings, as well) and a wolf with the very colors that shimmered on the horizon adorning his fur. There was either something in water or something in the air, and nothing short of the goddess of creation herself descending from the heavens and telling him, would convince Dove otherwise.
He walks. "He speaks." He thinks.
Current time: 11-22-2024, 03:50 AM
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