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Alone
Jul 3, 2006 15:57:23 GMT -5
Post by kiara on Jul 3, 2006 15:57:23 GMT -5
Kiara wondered along through the lands and found herself lost. stumbling on the sticks and sharp rocks from under her paws. It was getting dark and there was no wolf insite. She heard someone from behind her and didn't want to make a single move she was so scared. She finally found the courage to run . She ran and ran as fast as she could till she could not run no more. She was so hot and so thirsty.She hadn't had a drink from the stream since earlier this morning. Her paws were bloody from the Sharp pointy rocks. She slowly laid down. She began to slowly drift of to sleep and past out.
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Alone
Jul 28, 2006 13:55:26 GMT -5
Post by shetan on Jul 28, 2006 13:55:26 GMT -5
A ghost walked among the trees. The body was thin, the ribs showed through the ragged pelt, which once shown a beautiful silver-grey. Now scars marred the body. A predominant one was located on the skull of the wolf. And below the mark, the blind eye starred at the dark trees before it. But the left eye remained brightly lit and the golden color remained true while the blind eye was turning grey, like the cloudy sky during a fierce storm. The old fae was used to all of this.
Shetan stalked along, her grace still present even if her youth had dwindled away and left her old and ragged-looking. As she walked, her head turned left and right in order for her to see all sides and any danger. But with a sigh, she thought of how long ago, she had had perfect eyesight and still missed the danger at hand and walked right into it. How foolish she had been.
Shaking her head, she paused as a sweet, familiar scent caught her nose. Blood. Hopes died as she realized it was not of deer or rabbit or any usual prey. It was of wolf. A stranger was near. On guard now, Shetan trotted towards the source. There behind some trees was a younger wolf. In the long shadows cast by the setting sun, Shetan could not catch much detail so she was forced to move closer. The pine needles blanketing the ground muffled most of the noise of her paws and she was glad because the wolf appeared to be sleeping.
At a closer inspection, Shetan saw that it was a young fae. The blood had come from her worn pads. Poor thing, Shetan thought, and she was reminding of her own traveling days, the hard, long days and cold, lonely nights. Shetan felt her maternal instinct rise and she laid her tired body near the younger wolf and waited for her to wake.
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