To the Weast [Aurielle]
The mistake is on purpose.
04-09-2020, 03:03 PM
D O V E W H I T E
Dove nodded at her words, turning away to give her privacy as she delved into the clear, cerulean waters of the pool adjacent. He looked to the companions she'd spoke of, being sure his eyes didn't fall on her radiant form again. He canted his head to side as she had as his eyes studied the two smaller animals. The wind seemed to be scarce at the moment, so he caught a diminutive scent from either one of the other, but not enough to identify which was male or female. He turned again to the land before him and the sea of sand within it, considering her words. "If some were to be truly born of the gods," he decided, one midnight wolf with a pelt more similar to his own than Dove wanted to admit, "it would indeed make sense why some are as cruel as the totems on high."
He moved back the few inches that would allow his back to rest completely on the tree and brought his shoulders down, forcing them to relax with a steady, even sigh. The posture that he'd been taught at a young age was more of a burden than anything else right then, even the stifling heat that hooked into his fur with imaginary claws and refused to let him be. He considered the landscape with a shrewd, pinched gaze, his lips pressed tightly together as he contemplated his next words.
"And your companions? he decided, redirecting the attention from himself and the malaise that plagued him. "I've met another wolf with two creatures beholden to him, just as yours are."
He walks. "He speaks." He thinks.
Dove nodded at her words, turning away to give her privacy as she delved into the clear, cerulean waters of the pool adjacent. He looked to the companions she'd spoke of, being sure his eyes didn't fall on her radiant form again. He canted his head to side as she had as his eyes studied the two smaller animals. The wind seemed to be scarce at the moment, so he caught a diminutive scent from either one of the other, but not enough to identify which was male or female. He turned again to the land before him and the sea of sand within it, considering her words. "If some were to be truly born of the gods," he decided, one midnight wolf with a pelt more similar to his own than Dove wanted to admit, "it would indeed make sense why some are as cruel as the totems on high."
He moved back the few inches that would allow his back to rest completely on the tree and brought his shoulders down, forcing them to relax with a steady, even sigh. The posture that he'd been taught at a young age was more of a burden than anything else right then, even the stifling heat that hooked into his fur with imaginary claws and refused to let him be. He considered the landscape with a shrewd, pinched gaze, his lips pressed tightly together as he contemplated his next words.
"And your companions? he decided, redirecting the attention from himself and the malaise that plagued him. "I've met another wolf with two creatures beholden to him, just as yours are."
He walks. "He speaks." He thinks.
Current time: 11-24-2024, 11:50 PM
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