The lonely wanderer found a fleeting, strange motion sliding from her jaws. It was a kind smile to match the cold glimmer in her eyes in equal parts of juxtaposition.
She licked her lips, uncertain.
Was it a mistake to come here? She thought, and then she dismissed the notion with a flick of one finely crafted ear.
It is perhaps best to take note of the stature of the wolf now, a slim, wiry figure of the deepest black. Eyes a peculiar shade, although mayhaps not uncommon among the wolves of this land. Hardened pits unmoved by desert storms and mountain floods - this is the bearing of the female. She was a funny sort of wolf to behold.
At this, she smiled again, a pallid thing draped from ear to ear. She noticed easily that she stood out against the white, white snow, and she wondered how she would fare against a bloodstained river instead. In snow, she stalked, sound muffled by her tail and her light steps. She was the blizzard owl, the one that struck when least unexpected. But in a river... Oh, in a river, she was a shark amongst fish.
These are the thoughts that differentiate a woman from a girl. The wolf was no girl, but then again she was no woman either.
In her jaws, she held a fine stick. It was as long as her body and as thick as her paw was wide. Notice now that the stick was untouched and without blemish, save the flakes chipped off when it fell from its mother branch. It was this stick that she clenched, though withholding the force that would mar the clean surface. In the snow, she waited for someone to find her.
It could be anyone, but the she-wolf simply sat, and brushed her tail around herself. Her stick lay at her feet.
She licked her lips, uncertain.
Was it a mistake to come here? She thought, and then she dismissed the notion with a flick of one finely crafted ear.
It is perhaps best to take note of the stature of the wolf now, a slim, wiry figure of the deepest black. Eyes a peculiar shade, although mayhaps not uncommon among the wolves of this land. Hardened pits unmoved by desert storms and mountain floods - this is the bearing of the female. She was a funny sort of wolf to behold.
At this, she smiled again, a pallid thing draped from ear to ear. She noticed easily that she stood out against the white, white snow, and she wondered how she would fare against a bloodstained river instead. In snow, she stalked, sound muffled by her tail and her light steps. She was the blizzard owl, the one that struck when least unexpected. But in a river... Oh, in a river, she was a shark amongst fish.
These are the thoughts that differentiate a woman from a girl. The wolf was no girl, but then again she was no woman either.
In her jaws, she held a fine stick. It was as long as her body and as thick as her paw was wide. Notice now that the stick was untouched and without blemish, save the flakes chipped off when it fell from its mother branch. It was this stick that she clenched, though withholding the force that would mar the clean surface. In the snow, she waited for someone to find her.
It could be anyone, but the she-wolf simply sat, and brushed her tail around herself. Her stick lay at her feet.
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Messages In This Thread
the carving of the way - by Alttayih - January 12, 2017, 05:37 AM
RE: the carving of the way - by Szymon - January 14, 2017, 10:14 PM
RE: the carving of the way - by Alttayih - January 15, 2017, 03:44 AM
RE: the carving of the way - by Szymon - January 15, 2017, 08:03 PM
RE: the carving of the way - by Alttayih - January 16, 2017, 09:25 AM
RE: the carving of the way - by Szymon - January 19, 2017, 10:40 PM
RE: the carving of the way - by Alttayih - January 23, 2017, 05:00 AM
RE: the carving of the way - by Szymon - January 23, 2017, 07:35 PM
RE: the carving of the way - by Alttayih - January 23, 2017, 08:21 PM
RE: the carving of the way - by Szymon - January 24, 2017, 04:18 AM