Bloody Brilliant
12-05-2013, 03:29 PM
Aranya's ears pinned back at the sadness in Araceli's voice and her own sympathy rose up into her throat. She couldn't even imagine such a feeling, not knowing your roots. Aranya didn't think she could ever forget the layout of their den, the glow of her father's eyes. She missed them terribly. Would it be easier to not know, or too painful to wonder? In all honesty she didn't want to think about it. Instead, Aranya frowned and said, "I'm sorry to hear that. Have you found happiness here in this land?" While she truly was concerned for this fae's well-being, her question had a second shadow. Aranya was not sure that she herself was happy here. But how could she know for certain? It had been so long since she had done anything but wander, any other life seemed foreign and frightening now. Aranya stood up briefly and shook out her fur, trying to get air under it. She was still equipped for winter, and the sun here was practically boiling her. This was not a complaint, of course, merely a statement. It was practically summer here, and she wondered what it would be like when the season changed. Aranya was a northern wolf; snow and ice and wind ran through her veins as much as ice did. How different she was from this wolf before her. For her own species, Aranya could be called lanky and gaunt. Compared to Araceli? She was as stocky as her father had been, more block than body. Araceli was unusual of course, but Aranya envied her exotic beauty, and wondered if there were stranger wolves yet. Speech,Thoughts, |