Coelacanth’s second summer was peppered with triumphs and tribulations, and her outlook on them was dependent upon which of the two she was experiencing at the time. It was evening now, and the shoreline was dappled with a luminescent blue that matched her eyes. Above, a cool rain fell, sinking into her feathery fur and turning it to living ink. The break in the oppressive heat was pleasant, and she burbled happily to herself, practicing her elocution in a virtually inaudible current of lilting whispers. Komodo had been helping her with consonant sounds, but despite his rollicking drawl, Seelie’s burgeoning accent was already shaping up to be something wholly her own. She worked her tongue and teeth around the unfamiliar weight of the spoken word, and although she was excited and delighted by her newfound way of communicating, the idea of doing it in front of others was terrifying.
A flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention — an ivory and alabaster ghost crab had poked its head out of its sandy burrow. `Ohiki, Kirynnae had called them, and now that she could, “`Ohiki!” parroted her granddaughter in a piping whisper, facing off against the little crustacean. It threw up its infinitesimal claws in alarm, looking strikingly like a vagrant who’d just been commanded, “Hands where I can see ‘em!”
Seelie bounded forward to investigate, and thus began a comedic flurry of movement. She chased the little crab in skittering pathways along the moonlit shore, sniffing overzealously at it whenever it stopped moving, and snapping harmlessly at the air above it when it put its claws in the air and waved them like it just didn’t care. When it moved toward her, she “squealed” — an airy yip! that was just a sharp blip of air — and spun, mock-fleeing in the other direction; but she whipped right back around every time to start the game over.
It was during one of these flighty retreats that a seagull swept down, snatching up her friend in its greedy beak. Fury pierced her tender heart like a lance, and she zipped around with desperate speed, her own jaws ripping wide to wreak her own vengeance. She launched herself into the air before the barrel-bellied bird could take to wing and snapped furiously. All three of them — bird, crab, and dog — crashed to the sand in a flurry, but fortunately it seemed that her hard-shelled little friend was no worse for wear. He threw up his claws and she spat feathers, following after him and leaving the bird with a clipped, bleeding wing to flounder in the soft sand. A solicitous whine trailed breathily from her lips.
A flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention — an ivory and alabaster ghost crab had poked its head out of its sandy burrow. `Ohiki, Kirynnae had called them, and now that she could, “`Ohiki!” parroted her granddaughter in a piping whisper, facing off against the little crustacean. It threw up its infinitesimal claws in alarm, looking strikingly like a vagrant who’d just been commanded, “Hands where I can see ‘em!”
Seelie bounded forward to investigate, and thus began a comedic flurry of movement. She chased the little crab in skittering pathways along the moonlit shore, sniffing overzealously at it whenever it stopped moving, and snapping harmlessly at the air above it when it put its claws in the air and waved them like it just didn’t care. When it moved toward her, she “squealed” — an airy yip! that was just a sharp blip of air — and spun, mock-fleeing in the other direction; but she whipped right back around every time to start the game over.
It was during one of these flighty retreats that a seagull swept down, snatching up her friend in its greedy beak. Fury pierced her tender heart like a lance, and she zipped around with desperate speed, her own jaws ripping wide to wreak her own vengeance. She launched herself into the air before the barrel-bellied bird could take to wing and snapped furiously. All three of them — bird, crab, and dog — crashed to the sand in a flurry, but fortunately it seemed that her hard-shelled little friend was no worse for wear. He threw up his claws and she spat feathers, following after him and leaving the bird with a clipped, bleeding wing to flounder in the soft sand. A solicitous whine trailed breathily from her lips.
July 03, 2017, 04:05 PM
She was a fascinating creature.
The dark wolf studied her from the shadows – the wraith’s movement not unlike a panther as he began to stalk toward the shoreline. There was a darkness that now clung to the Mayfair’s sorrowful heart, but it lay not directed at the innocence before him – the prowl within his calculated grace was reserved from his militia time with Tartok, and awakened by the realization that it was all he had left.
Drawing forward slowly, his presence was unnoticed as the girl danced along the shores. It would seem a crab held her attention – and as she enticed it, his own fiery eyes swept over the delicate curve of her form, noting the feathered fur – tufted ears. She was not pure wolf – but he did not find such a thing a disgrace. He could see beauty in the slender curves of her stark form.. but he was far more captivated by the grace of her nature, and she then bound forward, snatching a gull from the air as it attempted to make lunch with her newfound friend.
Rather than find her attitude toward the crustacean off putting and silly, he realized he found her rather endearing. His own stocky form loped forward then, and he made to announce his presence with an ushered bark – gentle, but commanding for her attention. It was then he sidled up to the injured gull, casting his eyes upon it. It was a shame to waste a meal – and he did not believe in the suffrage of animals. It would surely die anyway, and with a quick snap of his jaws to the neck of the seabird, he ended its pain.
Uncertain how the stranger would react, the Mayfair cast his stoical gaze upon her – calculating, before he took a pace back, allowing her first claim upon the bird should she desire it.
The dark wolf studied her from the shadows – the wraith’s movement not unlike a panther as he began to stalk toward the shoreline. There was a darkness that now clung to the Mayfair’s sorrowful heart, but it lay not directed at the innocence before him – the prowl within his calculated grace was reserved from his militia time with Tartok, and awakened by the realization that it was all he had left.
Drawing forward slowly, his presence was unnoticed as the girl danced along the shores. It would seem a crab held her attention – and as she enticed it, his own fiery eyes swept over the delicate curve of her form, noting the feathered fur – tufted ears. She was not pure wolf – but he did not find such a thing a disgrace. He could see beauty in the slender curves of her stark form.. but he was far more captivated by the grace of her nature, and she then bound forward, snatching a gull from the air as it attempted to make lunch with her newfound friend.
Rather than find her attitude toward the crustacean off putting and silly, he realized he found her rather endearing. His own stocky form loped forward then, and he made to announce his presence with an ushered bark – gentle, but commanding for her attention. It was then he sidled up to the injured gull, casting his eyes upon it. It was a shame to waste a meal – and he did not believe in the suffrage of animals. It would surely die anyway, and with a quick snap of his jaws to the neck of the seabird, he ended its pain.
Uncertain how the stranger would react, the Mayfair cast his stoical gaze upon her – calculating, before he took a pace back, allowing her first claim upon the bird should she desire it.
all you have is your fire
August 06, 2017, 07:28 PM
Constantine’s low, commanding utterance drew Coelacanth’s attention immediately, and the poor sand crab was given a brief reprieve as her Neptune eyes fitted themselves to the lean, angular construct that housed the wraith’s wounded heart. Somewhat shyly, she met his fiery eyes, her own gaze intent but largely unobtrusive as she searched the handsome planes of his face for chastisement. When she didn’t see any, she unfolded from the hunched posture she hadn’t realized she’d assumed and crossed the distance toward him. Her feathered tail whipped like a live wire, beating with a mixture of anxiousness and agreeableness against her slim hocks, as she gestured eloquently with a twist of her slim muzzle. She had no interest in the seagull aside from vengeance, and she made a quick little scooping motion with the tip of her nose to pantomime rolling it toward the dark wolf, maintaining her respectful distance.
`Ohiki? she thought, her bright cerulean eyes briefly searching the beach. When she found her friend — thought it could easily have been one of his identical brethren — she herded it back toward where Constantine stood and imprisoned it in the heart-shaped curve of her dainty forelimbs. The pale-colored crustacean knitted his claws into the feathery fur of her breast and, for whatever reason, seemed content to remain in the crook of her elbow — and a kittenish purr escaped her as she beamed with shy triumph at the Mayfair. Her eyes arched and laughed, accompanied by the soft huff-huff-huff of her breath. She wanted to talk to Constantine, but the thought of speaking aloud was still somewhat terrifying for the little wolfdog, and she kept to her silence with an eager tilt of her finely-sculpted head.
It lasted approximately three seconds.
“Cons’antine,” she whispered clumsily, the frail susurrus of her airy timbre forever altered by human hands. She knew his name — wanted him to know that she knew it and that she had listened to him at the meeting. She didn’t know if he knew her name, but it didn’t seem terribly important in the grand scheme of things. His hurt was palpable to the empath despite his stoic nature, and though it was not her wont to press or intrude, she stretched her muzzle out to rest her pert chin demurely upon the sand. “Friend?” she wondered.
`Ohiki? she thought, her bright cerulean eyes briefly searching the beach. When she found her friend — thought it could easily have been one of his identical brethren — she herded it back toward where Constantine stood and imprisoned it in the heart-shaped curve of her dainty forelimbs. The pale-colored crustacean knitted his claws into the feathery fur of her breast and, for whatever reason, seemed content to remain in the crook of her elbow — and a kittenish purr escaped her as she beamed with shy triumph at the Mayfair. Her eyes arched and laughed, accompanied by the soft huff-huff-huff of her breath. She wanted to talk to Constantine, but the thought of speaking aloud was still somewhat terrifying for the little wolfdog, and she kept to her silence with an eager tilt of her finely-sculpted head.
It lasted approximately three seconds.
“Cons’antine,” she whispered clumsily, the frail susurrus of her airy timbre forever altered by human hands. She knew his name — wanted him to know that she knew it and that she had listened to him at the meeting. She didn’t know if he knew her name, but it didn’t seem terribly important in the grand scheme of things. His hurt was palpable to the empath despite his stoic nature, and though it was not her wont to press or intrude, she stretched her muzzle out to rest her pert chin demurely upon the sand. “Friend?” she wondered.
August 17, 2017, 12:45 PM
He watched her – a gentle creature that unfurled from within herself like a flower when she seemed to realize his intent was to not harm her. Yet her blue eyes were piercing – not judgemental, but he felt almost uncomfortable beneath her inquiring look, as if she could see in to his very soul.
The only reprieve he had from that thought was that at least he might have a soul left.
She denied the seagull – her actions speaking volumes, and the wraith allowed it to rest at his paws for now, unattached to the hunger pang within his belly and far more captivated by his companion to satiate that whim. He watched her retrieve her crab – bewitching it somehow to nestle it within the soft fur of what could not have been the fur of a pure wolf – but she was beautiful nonetheless.
She spoke his name then – airy, hesitant with her words, and in turn, he dipped his muzzle slightly, his eyes starkly bright upon her. She then questioned him – his intentions, perhaps? All the more she continued, and he found her all the more endearing, and sharply reminded himself that he would not once more play the role of protector to another – for it usually meant their imminent demise. “Yes, friend,” he rumbled in return, his own features remaining stoical, though he attempted the remnants of his once youthful and boyish grin – he only hoped it did not come forward as a grimace. “You?”
The only reprieve he had from that thought was that at least he might have a soul left.
She denied the seagull – her actions speaking volumes, and the wraith allowed it to rest at his paws for now, unattached to the hunger pang within his belly and far more captivated by his companion to satiate that whim. He watched her retrieve her crab – bewitching it somehow to nestle it within the soft fur of what could not have been the fur of a pure wolf – but she was beautiful nonetheless.
She spoke his name then – airy, hesitant with her words, and in turn, he dipped his muzzle slightly, his eyes starkly bright upon her. She then questioned him – his intentions, perhaps? All the more she continued, and he found her all the more endearing, and sharply reminded himself that he would not once more play the role of protector to another – for it usually meant their imminent demise. “Yes, friend,” he rumbled in return, his own features remaining stoical, though he attempted the remnants of his once youthful and boyish grin – he only hoped it did not come forward as a grimace. “You?”
all you have is your fire
October 06, 2017, 12:00 PM
Tagging you because I have not posted in like fifty years. ♥
Oh, but he was kind!
Her tender eyes were two blue-winged butterflies, and they alternated between landing upon him boldly and darting shyly awry to settle upon the soft, velvet safety of her catlike paws. His grin beckoned an immediate reaction; the roguish glint in his fiery eyes, though fleeting, had thankfully sparked to life during one of her braver moments. It transformed the stoic, even somber set of his features, and without thinking, “Handsome,” she informed him with what must have seemed uncharacteristic frankness — but Seelie wasn’t shy about admitting attraction or giving a name to beauty. She was shy about herself, about taking up the air that was better breathed by others; or treading upon the silence that was better broken with a full, unsullied voice. “@Constantine,” she whispered, focusing hard to pronounce his name. She could have given him her own name in return, but there was something to be said about receiving names from wolves she was enamored with. She missed it — and so,
“You?” she entreated him in a silky susurrus, carefully dislodging her hard-shelled passenger to get to all fours and shake the sand from her feathery fur. “Please — ” She fumbled over words she hadn’t pronounced, trying to work her tongue around them, her sentences fragmented by her inability to voice all she wished: “You choose? Name?”
Feeling playful now, almost despite herself, she danced away from the dark wraith to invite a game of chase — but then inched nearer again as if she couldn’t risk the chance that he might not actually want to put effort into catching her. Seelie was easy, malleable; and although she badly wanted his company and his scent and the adrenaline rush of his teeth nipping at her fur as she sped away, she was more keenly invested in what he wanted.
Her tender eyes were two blue-winged butterflies, and they alternated between landing upon him boldly and darting shyly awry to settle upon the soft, velvet safety of her catlike paws. His grin beckoned an immediate reaction; the roguish glint in his fiery eyes, though fleeting, had thankfully sparked to life during one of her braver moments. It transformed the stoic, even somber set of his features, and without thinking, “Handsome,” she informed him with what must have seemed uncharacteristic frankness — but Seelie wasn’t shy about admitting attraction or giving a name to beauty. She was shy about herself, about taking up the air that was better breathed by others; or treading upon the silence that was better broken with a full, unsullied voice. “@Constantine,” she whispered, focusing hard to pronounce his name. She could have given him her own name in return, but there was something to be said about receiving names from wolves she was enamored with. She missed it — and so,
“You?” she entreated him in a silky susurrus, carefully dislodging her hard-shelled passenger to get to all fours and shake the sand from her feathery fur. “Please — ” She fumbled over words she hadn’t pronounced, trying to work her tongue around them, her sentences fragmented by her inability to voice all she wished: “You choose? Name?”
Feeling playful now, almost despite herself, she danced away from the dark wraith to invite a game of chase — but then inched nearer again as if she couldn’t risk the chance that he might not actually want to put effort into catching her. Seelie was easy, malleable; and although she badly wanted his company and his scent and the adrenaline rush of his teeth nipping at her fur as she sped away, she was more keenly invested in what he wanted.
March 02, 2018, 04:00 PM
Handsome. Amusement flickered in his eyes, though he did not voice it – it was perhaps the first time another had called him so, and he found himself at a loss for a response. Instead, the shadowrunner canted his muzzle slightly, tipping it downward in a silent gesture of appreciation to her comment.
She whispered his name then – the rawness of the pronunciation unlike anything he had heard, but it became obvious she was not one for words. Coyness emanated from her, and she demanded in what was perhaps the most endearing manner he had witnessed that he give her a name. The grin that lit up his features was a slow one, his bemusement only growing as he considered her request. He studied her – the impish nature that she would move in play, and found his own stocky form relaxing in her presence. “Sìthiche,” he rumbled, the name rolling from his tongue with a gentle firmness, for he believed it suited her. “Fairy,” he translated for her, watching her movements as she moved as gracefully as the sea. A sea fairy in her very right.
Her slender form took off then – the silken fur of her coat that indicated to him she held dog in her blood brushing away from the wind. His own stocky form boasted a prowess as he leapt forward, giving in to friendly instinct and a game of chase. The ocean wind was welcomed as it kissed his face, and for a stolen moment, he was able to drop the past behind him and simply enjoy the right now.
She whispered his name then – the rawness of the pronunciation unlike anything he had heard, but it became obvious she was not one for words. Coyness emanated from her, and she demanded in what was perhaps the most endearing manner he had witnessed that he give her a name. The grin that lit up his features was a slow one, his bemusement only growing as he considered her request. He studied her – the impish nature that she would move in play, and found his own stocky form relaxing in her presence. “Sìthiche,” he rumbled, the name rolling from his tongue with a gentle firmness, for he believed it suited her. “Fairy,” he translated for her, watching her movements as she moved as gracefully as the sea. A sea fairy in her very right.
Her slender form took off then – the silken fur of her coat that indicated to him she held dog in her blood brushing away from the wind. His own stocky form boasted a prowess as he leapt forward, giving in to friendly instinct and a game of chase. The ocean wind was welcomed as it kissed his face, and for a stolen moment, he was able to drop the past behind him and simply enjoy the right now.
all you have is your fire
March 11, 2018, 07:02 AM
“Sìthiche. Fairy.”
How perfect! Coelacanth leapt like a spirited filly, her back arching impossibly as she climbed skyward in a grand jeté. Constantine was quick to join her, his stocky frame surprisingly agile in the wavekissed sand, and after they had run for a considerable distance, Seelie whipped about and shaped her delicate musculature into a coy bow. “Come to me!” begged the tuck of her tufted ears, soft and pliant against the slope of her nape; the dark blur of her tail as it whipped eagerly behind her; the dancing tattoo of her catlike paws against the sand. One fawnlike forelimb lifted in mute supplication as she tipped her head to the side. She was eager to show him the lagoon she’d found, and as the moon reached its zenith she knew there was no better time than now.
How perfect! Coelacanth leapt like a spirited filly, her back arching impossibly as she climbed skyward in a grand jeté. Constantine was quick to join her, his stocky frame surprisingly agile in the wavekissed sand, and after they had run for a considerable distance, Seelie whipped about and shaped her delicate musculature into a coy bow. “Come to me!” begged the tuck of her tufted ears, soft and pliant against the slope of her nape; the dark blur of her tail as it whipped eagerly behind her; the dancing tattoo of her catlike paws against the sand. One fawnlike forelimb lifted in mute supplication as she tipped her head to the side. She was eager to show him the lagoon she’d found, and as the moon reached its zenith she knew there was no better time than now.
April 23, 2018, 02:22 PM
I'm the worst. ;-; I keep missing this because of where it is in my threadlog. So sorry, lvoely!
He followed her – the fairy spirit of the isle. Her fur brushed behind her like a banner and her paws were nimble upon the shifting sands of the coast. The shadowrunner had learned to appreciate the ocean – even growing to prefer it, despite being born upon a mountain farther inland. Still, adept as he was for now moving along the coastal surface, he knew in his heart he would not remain so close to the ocean.The sinew of his stocky form flexed as he slowed now. The alluring girl before him bowed low, coy in her notion, and his fiery eyes flared as they cast over her. Go to her he did, casting a playful nip to the flank of the free spirit, waiting to see where she would lead him.
all you have is your fire
April 27, 2018, 11:43 AM
(This post was last modified: May 20, 2018, 07:38 PM by Coelacanth.)
Want to fade out with your post? ♥ I really enjoyed this thread!
As the moon rose in the night sky, Sìthiche led Constantine to a pebble-bottomed lagoon off the rocky eastern shore; the pinnipeds had moved inland for the evening, allowing the wolves to pick their way across the outcropping unencumbered. In truth, the lagoon was swallowed up by the sea lions’ presence and somewhat inconspicuous in daylight — but at twilight it was infused with a wild magic. If the male permitted her closeness, the sheepdog would move in a tight circle around him, tracing her muzzle through the thick fur at his nape. “Look,” she seemed to pantomime with a graceful extension of her swanlike neck. She approached the pool and dipped a paw into it. Immediately, an eerie blue glow surrounded it, stirred up by the ripples in the water. She swirled her foot around, creating an abstract signature, and turned to glance over her shoulder at him with Neptune eyes that were the exact same shade. “Cons’antine, see?” she whispered.
A splash behind her caused her to turn her head abruptly, even suspiciously — but there, in the light of the moon, a sea otter bobbed harmlessly by, seeming to wink at the onyxclad twain.
Together, the two of them lounged and eventually slept until the following morning.
A splash behind her caused her to turn her head abruptly, even suspiciously — but there, in the light of the moon, a sea otter bobbed harmlessly by, seeming to wink at the onyxclad twain.
Together, the two of them lounged and eventually slept until the following morning.
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