The Rhythm of the World
04-05-2013, 03:10 PM
Bum ba-dum, bum ba-dum, bum ba-dum. Her heart was a caged bird, longing to burst free from the bony confinements of her ribs, to break free of her chest, to soar through the open winds.
Pitter-pat, pitter-pat, pitter-pat. Each of her paws were tiny dancers, beating to their own rhythm in the symphonic world around them.
The wind whispered through her ears, through her fur, tickling her nose with the various scents that accompanied it. Wolves, many wolves, had been here; that much was clear to her. She had never been one for large groups, born into a small nomadic family. Never before had she been a part of a pack, but for now she considered it at least a possibility. Besides, what harm could be done simply appearing here and seeing what awaited her? Perhaps some wondrous new future lay in the midst of any number of packs; there was only one way to find out.
Not truly sure of how to act, socially depraved as a child and a young adult, choosing to be so in her most recent year, she simply lowered her haunches until she found herself sitting on the dry ground and let out a short yip. Surely if anyone was nearby they would hear and greet her ? at least she hoped they might. Perhaps wolves were not as courteous creatures as she had previously considered them to be? It was always a possibility, she reminded herself. The few wolves she had encountered had been polite enough, kind enough, but still her sampling was hardly a large one, certainly not enough to judge an entire species.
She felt alone within herself, somehow. Her uniqueness was unique to her, she belonged to herself, but somehow rather than instilling confidence and self-assurance in herself, it only instilled a despairing sense of loneliness. She was called Balarine, a simple female with a longing to simply belong, a longing she hoped these wolves would be able to cure in her. Surely at least a few would prove to be as kind and welcoming as those she had met before. Surely she could find a home, a new place to stay, her place of belonging. She didn't have much to give, far more suited to advisory than to hunting or to fighting. Her frame was far too small to withstand battle ? her lack of scars showed a clear avoidance of them. She was quick due to her small weight, though her lengthy legs caused a bit of clumsiness in her she could not seem to overcome, disrupting nearly every chance at a good hunt. Instead she relied on others to aid her, shelter her, feed her. It wasn't the best living choice, she knew, but it fit her. She was nomadic by heart, by history, and each place she went, new wolves were willing to take her in if only for a short while. She hoped now would be different, that she could find a place she'd be more able to remain in, to linger and settle down.
A dim light began to spread across the skyline as rays bounced from the sun off the clouds, creating brilliant hues of orange and pink. It amazed her, the rosy citrus that bloomed in the early morning above her; she had always been pleased enough to wake early and watch nature spread her colors. The female stretched her bodice, growing comfortable in this place though the scent of blood and battle worried her. She was hardly a wolf fit for such a life, if that was what pack life contained. Even still, it appealed to her, the idea of living with others. She missed her family, though her goodbye to them had been a final one. Never again would she return to her homelands. Experiencing what the world had to offer was too much for her to bear leaving for a barren wasteland of snow.
Here, things were bright, warm, shrouded in the green of the Spring season, alive with new birth of plants, of animals, blossoms that never would have greeted her eyes had she not left. It was a wonderful place, a beautiful place, a place she wished to live and to belong in, and perhaps some day to bring further life to. She could not have the family she was born into ? they had chosen to stay in the land of their fathers. But perhaps pups of her own would fulfill the empty void she felt in her heart at their absence? It was a welcomed thought, to lack the loneliness they had left her. But still, pups would mean males, and surely males would mean embarrassment for herself. Socially inadequate, she wasn't quite sure she would have enough to impress any male these new parts would have to offer her. Surely there were more worthy females, prettier, stronger, more desirable. She was small, weak, plain. Perhaps she only thought this of herself, perhaps others would see her differently, but she couldn't help the sudden desire to flee, her body tensing with unease.
They would laugh at her, mock her, shun her. She wasn't fit to belong in a pack. No, she wasn't fit to be anywhere but with her family, in their snow-filled nothingness. She wasn't deserving of this new land, this green, this warmth. No pack would want her, surely. Still, though her mind begged her to flee, to run, to escape the claustrophobic pressure of the field that surrounded her, the commitment that beckoned her, her heart would not sway in it's desires, her paws would not bend to her will.
Already she had called for them. Her short yip may not have carried far, and for a brief second she hoped on the possibility that none had heard it, that her presence had gone unnoticed, but the scent of oncoming wolves proved her false. They were coming for her. They had heard her, and they were coming. Coming to greet her, to judge her, but certainly not to welcome her. One look at her, her pathetic size, the fur pressed flat to her body and the tail tucked tight under her legs in submission and they would chuckle to themselves and leave before giving her a second glance. She was as useful as a young pup, nothing more. She would be another mouth to feed, not unable to feed herself but lacking the skill-set to do so properly.
Darkly ringed ears pressed tightly against her head, cowering against her cranium, burying themselves in the short fur that resided there. Her body crouched low, stomach brushing the new buds of grass that poked up from the dry, cracked land, tickling her tender skin, though her mouth refused to curl into so much as a miniscule smirk of laughter. No, fear clouded her better judgment, ached for her to run as she wished to, but her body lay frozen, far more scared to run and show weakness than to stay and risk humility.
No, she would not run, could not run. She was a wolf, a pack animal; at least that was what she wished to become. It was what her ancestors had been, and she knew she ought to be proud to follow in their pawsteps. Sucking in the courage to stand, she raised her body slightly, enough to appear at least a bit less cowardly, yet still remaining in a submissive posture, not wanting to offend any higher ranking wolf that may pass by her.
Word count: 1253
OOC: Hope I did alright for a first post here! If I did not do this right or post it in the right place please tell me :)
Pitter-pat, pitter-pat, pitter-pat. Each of her paws were tiny dancers, beating to their own rhythm in the symphonic world around them.
The wind whispered through her ears, through her fur, tickling her nose with the various scents that accompanied it. Wolves, many wolves, had been here; that much was clear to her. She had never been one for large groups, born into a small nomadic family. Never before had she been a part of a pack, but for now she considered it at least a possibility. Besides, what harm could be done simply appearing here and seeing what awaited her? Perhaps some wondrous new future lay in the midst of any number of packs; there was only one way to find out.
Not truly sure of how to act, socially depraved as a child and a young adult, choosing to be so in her most recent year, she simply lowered her haunches until she found herself sitting on the dry ground and let out a short yip. Surely if anyone was nearby they would hear and greet her ? at least she hoped they might. Perhaps wolves were not as courteous creatures as she had previously considered them to be? It was always a possibility, she reminded herself. The few wolves she had encountered had been polite enough, kind enough, but still her sampling was hardly a large one, certainly not enough to judge an entire species.
She felt alone within herself, somehow. Her uniqueness was unique to her, she belonged to herself, but somehow rather than instilling confidence and self-assurance in herself, it only instilled a despairing sense of loneliness. She was called Balarine, a simple female with a longing to simply belong, a longing she hoped these wolves would be able to cure in her. Surely at least a few would prove to be as kind and welcoming as those she had met before. Surely she could find a home, a new place to stay, her place of belonging. She didn't have much to give, far more suited to advisory than to hunting or to fighting. Her frame was far too small to withstand battle ? her lack of scars showed a clear avoidance of them. She was quick due to her small weight, though her lengthy legs caused a bit of clumsiness in her she could not seem to overcome, disrupting nearly every chance at a good hunt. Instead she relied on others to aid her, shelter her, feed her. It wasn't the best living choice, she knew, but it fit her. She was nomadic by heart, by history, and each place she went, new wolves were willing to take her in if only for a short while. She hoped now would be different, that she could find a place she'd be more able to remain in, to linger and settle down.
A dim light began to spread across the skyline as rays bounced from the sun off the clouds, creating brilliant hues of orange and pink. It amazed her, the rosy citrus that bloomed in the early morning above her; she had always been pleased enough to wake early and watch nature spread her colors. The female stretched her bodice, growing comfortable in this place though the scent of blood and battle worried her. She was hardly a wolf fit for such a life, if that was what pack life contained. Even still, it appealed to her, the idea of living with others. She missed her family, though her goodbye to them had been a final one. Never again would she return to her homelands. Experiencing what the world had to offer was too much for her to bear leaving for a barren wasteland of snow.
Here, things were bright, warm, shrouded in the green of the Spring season, alive with new birth of plants, of animals, blossoms that never would have greeted her eyes had she not left. It was a wonderful place, a beautiful place, a place she wished to live and to belong in, and perhaps some day to bring further life to. She could not have the family she was born into ? they had chosen to stay in the land of their fathers. But perhaps pups of her own would fulfill the empty void she felt in her heart at their absence? It was a welcomed thought, to lack the loneliness they had left her. But still, pups would mean males, and surely males would mean embarrassment for herself. Socially inadequate, she wasn't quite sure she would have enough to impress any male these new parts would have to offer her. Surely there were more worthy females, prettier, stronger, more desirable. She was small, weak, plain. Perhaps she only thought this of herself, perhaps others would see her differently, but she couldn't help the sudden desire to flee, her body tensing with unease.
They would laugh at her, mock her, shun her. She wasn't fit to belong in a pack. No, she wasn't fit to be anywhere but with her family, in their snow-filled nothingness. She wasn't deserving of this new land, this green, this warmth. No pack would want her, surely. Still, though her mind begged her to flee, to run, to escape the claustrophobic pressure of the field that surrounded her, the commitment that beckoned her, her heart would not sway in it's desires, her paws would not bend to her will.
Already she had called for them. Her short yip may not have carried far, and for a brief second she hoped on the possibility that none had heard it, that her presence had gone unnoticed, but the scent of oncoming wolves proved her false. They were coming for her. They had heard her, and they were coming. Coming to greet her, to judge her, but certainly not to welcome her. One look at her, her pathetic size, the fur pressed flat to her body and the tail tucked tight under her legs in submission and they would chuckle to themselves and leave before giving her a second glance. She was as useful as a young pup, nothing more. She would be another mouth to feed, not unable to feed herself but lacking the skill-set to do so properly.
Darkly ringed ears pressed tightly against her head, cowering against her cranium, burying themselves in the short fur that resided there. Her body crouched low, stomach brushing the new buds of grass that poked up from the dry, cracked land, tickling her tender skin, though her mouth refused to curl into so much as a miniscule smirk of laughter. No, fear clouded her better judgment, ached for her to run as she wished to, but her body lay frozen, far more scared to run and show weakness than to stay and risk humility.
No, she would not run, could not run. She was a wolf, a pack animal; at least that was what she wished to become. It was what her ancestors had been, and she knew she ought to be proud to follow in their pawsteps. Sucking in the courage to stand, she raised her body slightly, enough to appear at least a bit less cowardly, yet still remaining in a submissive posture, not wanting to offend any higher ranking wolf that may pass by her.
Word count: 1253
OOC: Hope I did alright for a first post here! If I did not do this right or post it in the right place please tell me :)
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