January 30, 2014, 10:12 PM
@Lanegan
Paradise was a strange concept to someone without an imagination. It was vague and subjective; one person's paradise might not be another's, and so forth — and to Dawa, paradise was just a word. Her attempts to ply it with meaning were enormous tasks unto themselves, but she tried. She tried desperately.
Paradise could be the smell of the trees around her — the scent of old wood and wet pine needles. It could be the feeling of prickling rocks against her toes, or the sound of the winter wind howling across the northern plain of their new home. Maybe paradise wasn't a sensation at all, but without something more to study, Dawa was at a loss. She accepted that this place was safe — as every location was safe as long as Tenzin and Raheerah were around, regardless of what the monk believed in such a circumstance — but the concept of paradise could not be sustained within her mind.
She said nothing of this to Tenzin. After Dawa's erroneous step in to the newly discovered springs, the (somewhat useless) Alpha was taken to a secluded area to dry and sleep; there was no den site yet for any of the wolves, as fresh as their home remained. It was here that the woman stirred; roused by the feeling of something creeping along beside her rear legs. Dawa's lids fluttered as the pearls behind them were exposed, but she did not move her head to inspect whatever was moving beside her; this was a habit that the woman had gotten over quickly when her blindness was revealed. Instead, she tested the moving shape with a shift of her muscle, and leaned her rear in to the form.
Almost instantly, there was a breath of air thrust her way, and a sharp, crackling eruption of noise beside her. She didn't flinch away from the crow's call but instead, chose to rise up on to her curling limbs. The bird must have thought her to be a dead thing, or very close to it — but her waking proved that there was no carcass to be picked clean. That was a first.
Paradise could be the smell of the trees around her — the scent of old wood and wet pine needles. It could be the feeling of prickling rocks against her toes, or the sound of the winter wind howling across the northern plain of their new home. Maybe paradise wasn't a sensation at all, but without something more to study, Dawa was at a loss. She accepted that this place was safe — as every location was safe as long as Tenzin and Raheerah were around, regardless of what the monk believed in such a circumstance — but the concept of paradise could not be sustained within her mind.
She said nothing of this to Tenzin. After Dawa's erroneous step in to the newly discovered springs, the (somewhat useless) Alpha was taken to a secluded area to dry and sleep; there was no den site yet for any of the wolves, as fresh as their home remained. It was here that the woman stirred; roused by the feeling of something creeping along beside her rear legs. Dawa's lids fluttered as the pearls behind them were exposed, but she did not move her head to inspect whatever was moving beside her; this was a habit that the woman had gotten over quickly when her blindness was revealed. Instead, she tested the moving shape with a shift of her muscle, and leaned her rear in to the form.
Almost instantly, there was a breath of air thrust her way, and a sharp, crackling eruption of noise beside her. She didn't flinch away from the crow's call but instead, chose to rise up on to her curling limbs. The bird must have thought her to be a dead thing, or very close to it — but her waking proved that there was no carcass to be picked clean. That was a first.
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