Post by Gina on May 1, 2006 18:07:08 GMT -5
ooc:For my character Torn...Trace isn't going to be used much in this one, only a few mentionings, maybe an appearance if replies bring me to do so...
ic:The first rains of spring were late this year, an omen to some, a blessing to others. The rain had a kind of sickly green hue in the ghastly valley, its soft pattering sounding like the whispers of omens and curses. The sky itself, though a delicate gray in other places, it, too, looked green against the gray, sheer cliffs of the Valley of Loners.
The rain, though meager, had created a shallow river in the crevices of the rock of the valley bottom, green and sickly looking. Sitting on a rock the size of Fenris, staring at his beautiful reflection, distorted in the green waters, was Torn. The cougar's fur was thick, darkened further not only by his topcoat of rust but by the thick shadows that stretched their ghostly fingers accross the valley. The black on his face made him look frail, but it made him look strong and mysterious as well. He seemed to be in the perfect place, a haven away from the world, a dead haven. Burgundy eyes flashed as the flapping of vast wings hit his acute ears, a killer's smile playing accross his maw.
"Emblem...What have you brought me today?" His voice was like that of hardened silk, frozen in ice, able to melt the defenses of others with its feeling and sound. The condor, large and powerful, clutching to a thick, twisted branch, screeched morbidly in response. "Only news that Trace remains safe and hidden in the forest away from the wolves, Torn." Torn threw him a nasty look. "Nothing of the wolves? Nothing of any young ones?" Emblem screeched, shaking his head and flapping his wings.
"No matter, then, Emblem...Why don't you go off and find a scrap of meat or something? Surely some stupid Lera has fallen into a ditch and died in a sudden flood. This rain is murder to this valley, dry and dead for so long...I doubt anyone has been in here for moons..." His eyes softened, as well as his voice. The ice was gone as the vulture flew away. "Good...Peace atlast.." Ah. So that was why he had come. Peace. It seemed that he had tried to get away from his sister, Trace, and now his closest companion next to her, the vulture.
He stared at his reflection again, thinking of the Capuut Mortem on his rump, a vicious smile on his face. The mark of the dead, it frightened even Emblem, it did, a vulture, a scavenger, a symbol of death himself.
Perking up, Torn smiled as he saw a bird flying out of a crevice and up to the sky. "So.." He whispered. "Even the birds come out of their death holes to feel the rain.."
ic:The first rains of spring were late this year, an omen to some, a blessing to others. The rain had a kind of sickly green hue in the ghastly valley, its soft pattering sounding like the whispers of omens and curses. The sky itself, though a delicate gray in other places, it, too, looked green against the gray, sheer cliffs of the Valley of Loners.
The rain, though meager, had created a shallow river in the crevices of the rock of the valley bottom, green and sickly looking. Sitting on a rock the size of Fenris, staring at his beautiful reflection, distorted in the green waters, was Torn. The cougar's fur was thick, darkened further not only by his topcoat of rust but by the thick shadows that stretched their ghostly fingers accross the valley. The black on his face made him look frail, but it made him look strong and mysterious as well. He seemed to be in the perfect place, a haven away from the world, a dead haven. Burgundy eyes flashed as the flapping of vast wings hit his acute ears, a killer's smile playing accross his maw.
"Emblem...What have you brought me today?" His voice was like that of hardened silk, frozen in ice, able to melt the defenses of others with its feeling and sound. The condor, large and powerful, clutching to a thick, twisted branch, screeched morbidly in response. "Only news that Trace remains safe and hidden in the forest away from the wolves, Torn." Torn threw him a nasty look. "Nothing of the wolves? Nothing of any young ones?" Emblem screeched, shaking his head and flapping his wings.
"No matter, then, Emblem...Why don't you go off and find a scrap of meat or something? Surely some stupid Lera has fallen into a ditch and died in a sudden flood. This rain is murder to this valley, dry and dead for so long...I doubt anyone has been in here for moons..." His eyes softened, as well as his voice. The ice was gone as the vulture flew away. "Good...Peace atlast.." Ah. So that was why he had come. Peace. It seemed that he had tried to get away from his sister, Trace, and now his closest companion next to her, the vulture.
He stared at his reflection again, thinking of the Capuut Mortem on his rump, a vicious smile on his face. The mark of the dead, it frightened even Emblem, it did, a vulture, a scavenger, a symbol of death himself.
Perking up, Torn smiled as he saw a bird flying out of a crevice and up to the sky. "So.." He whispered. "Even the birds come out of their death holes to feel the rain.."