Post by basic on Sept 15, 2008 19:04:38 GMT -5
A forlorn cry of a raven echoed in the plains, distant but every steadily make it is way to the center of the plains. And a ripple in the long grass was the only betrayal of something following it, and keeping up stride for glide.
The young female’s eyes only flickered up to the raven that every so often, making sure the endless game they played was in fact, still on. Kitkun loved this game more than anything else, never tiring of following the bird that had found her upon her dreadful, and rather ungraceful, entrance of this new land. Mind you, the game had only begun just but a day and a half ago. Nonetheless, he (or so she was certain of the gender of the bird) showed her to this lovely open space that she was determined to explore every inch of it.
The raven cawed once more, slowing as he descended to the earth below, and Kitkun skidded to a stop, her wings back flapping to make her stop all the more abrupt. Her bushy tail swishing back and forth, pink tongue lolling from the side of her jowl and her rib cage rapidly moving as she took a breather.
“Well, my winged friend. What have you brought me too?” Kitkun’s voice was soft and quiet, low and dangerous. It was the tone, not so much that she was thinking about munching on the bird. He’d be too tough anyways, she chided herself as she padded over to the bird, folding the wings that protruded from her bodice that matched her winged friend to her sides.
Peering through the grasses, Kitkun found the carcass of some long dead mammal that the raven was pecking at. Her nose curled up at the thought of the remains long cold and bled out. Heck there wasn’t even a decent piece of fur attached to the bones for her to pull at. “You are pathetic. Maybe you should follow me, you’d get fat from fresh meat soon enough.” Sitting back on lithe haunches, Kitkun’s dark eyes twinkled as she watched the bird continuing his content feast of dried marrow and fur. Preening herself, the lady wolf’s ears were constantly surveying the area, her nose sniffing the breeze that played with the long weeds and grasses, and only just her eyes to gaze at the bird.
The scar on her snout stung a bit, and the chunk out of her ear, a painful reminder. The darkling, continuing to force her self to forget such pains and memories by cleaning her fur of bits and pieces of grass and mud.
The young female’s eyes only flickered up to the raven that every so often, making sure the endless game they played was in fact, still on. Kitkun loved this game more than anything else, never tiring of following the bird that had found her upon her dreadful, and rather ungraceful, entrance of this new land. Mind you, the game had only begun just but a day and a half ago. Nonetheless, he (or so she was certain of the gender of the bird) showed her to this lovely open space that she was determined to explore every inch of it.
The raven cawed once more, slowing as he descended to the earth below, and Kitkun skidded to a stop, her wings back flapping to make her stop all the more abrupt. Her bushy tail swishing back and forth, pink tongue lolling from the side of her jowl and her rib cage rapidly moving as she took a breather.
“Well, my winged friend. What have you brought me too?” Kitkun’s voice was soft and quiet, low and dangerous. It was the tone, not so much that she was thinking about munching on the bird. He’d be too tough anyways, she chided herself as she padded over to the bird, folding the wings that protruded from her bodice that matched her winged friend to her sides.
Peering through the grasses, Kitkun found the carcass of some long dead mammal that the raven was pecking at. Her nose curled up at the thought of the remains long cold and bled out. Heck there wasn’t even a decent piece of fur attached to the bones for her to pull at. “You are pathetic. Maybe you should follow me, you’d get fat from fresh meat soon enough.” Sitting back on lithe haunches, Kitkun’s dark eyes twinkled as she watched the bird continuing his content feast of dried marrow and fur. Preening herself, the lady wolf’s ears were constantly surveying the area, her nose sniffing the breeze that played with the long weeds and grasses, and only just her eyes to gaze at the bird.
The scar on her snout stung a bit, and the chunk out of her ear, a painful reminder. The darkling, continuing to force her self to forget such pains and memories by cleaning her fur of bits and pieces of grass and mud.