Lyra Fereth
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*Pashan01
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- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Two letters she passed while in the bazaar. One for the smoking, one-eyed hive orphan saviour, which she tucked into his tunic as he lay prone, likely drunk. Her letter was simply one of thanks, not that he knew who she was. The second was given to the Exotic-Elf-Tail-Sovana. Lyra saw her chatting with Blue-Tail and not wishing to disturb, simply handed her the scribbled note, the words within asking if she might, once settled a bit, continue some of her tattoo work from the house. The Sovana did not hesitate to grant her request, offering her small gift of magic bag and even suggesting she might aid her in some way, perhaps with enchanting some inks. Sovana also wondered if Lyra would save her some time and take her things to sell, allowing her a cut of profits. Lyra grinned at this. While time herself was not always available, she did need coin. But the subject was put on hold as the bar became crowded, talk became wilder and raucous when a female halfling in red appeared and Lyra, backing away, left the Sovana to her drinking, cheery conversations and lap-sitting with the Blue-Tail. With some distance and quiet now from the main bar crowd, the pair of elves were approached by a another familiar to them and they agreed to head to the pair's new lodgings.
Tea with the Moon-Father's Sovani went better than she had hoped. It was at first awkward, particularly as he left them both alone in that great room of her Elf-Tail-Sovanato go make the tea. Lyra had produced small pot, cups and pouch of her own made herbal leaf, not wishing to use anything yet of the Sovana's. Her 'things', what they had managed to grab from their room and the parlour, were still piled to one side of the room, as yet, unpacked.
It was tentative steps at first as she gave half smile to the covered girl and her mentor seemed to take an awful long time getting the tea and returning to join. Two subject matters allowed first ice to be broken. At first at a loss of what to 'talk' about, she showed to Lady Isonade the canvas painting of the Moon-Father, still not yet completed and was complimented for her work. Lyra in turn mimed her own compliment of the other girl's skills at craft and enchant, touching to her belt.
Another pregnant pause.
Then Lyra mimed her next approach, clutching hands together and making her fingers spread like small wings, arching her brow in mute query at the other girl. But her message and mime was not understood, she tried again, to no avail. Taking a breath of courage, Lyra then leant in and moved her lips, staring intently at the well covered elf Moon-Father's Sovani have bat?. And from that point, the communications and flow between them eased further. Lyra saw the girl's flying familiar, second time seen, then she shared with her a small part of her own night creature, the wolf runt, describing by ball of fist its sex as she found in return the bat was also male.
Finally the tea was ready and her mentor joined them both. Upon Lady Isonade'senquiry of the tea, Lyra moved to place some of the mixed herb from her pouch to clean cloth and gave it to the Sovani.
However, she turned sharply to look at him, when he spoke of sharing his true name in the presence of his Sovani and a frown formed to her brow yet there was scant time for question and answer as the Elf-Tail-Sovana rolled in drunk and staggering, a half eaten sandwich to hand. Lyra swiftly moved to clear cups and tea, whether finished or not, tidying quickly any traces of use or mess. But her Sovana was in no fit state to worry or attend and it was left to the Moon-Father to see her to her room, though Lyra managed to thrust some herb root to her hand miming to chew upon it. Even if she only partook of a small bite, the two herbs would save her from the worst of a belly ache and raging head in the morning.
As the snores became louder, despite door now shut upon the girl, Lyra wondered at place of her reverie and explored the new lodging, checking the rooms. In the end, she decided on makeshift curtain to the far corner of the main room, the most distant from the Elf-Tail's bedroom and laid out her bedroll. The Lady Isonade understood, and she shared conspiratorial smirk with the other girl as she noted her mentor's raised brow and wonder, knowing he would prefer to lie with her in the small room next to the snoring girl's own but on this she wouldn't budge.
Fey-ri drunken snoring was far more piercing to her sensitive ears than any hive mating sounds of the brothel. As she tilted her nose up and turned towards her chosen place of reverie for that eve, she was rewarded with a backside pat then a devillish grin in retaliation for her stubborness. Scowling, she vowed to have 'words' on the morrow and leaving her things still unpacked and placed, she left her lover and his Sovani talking quietly by the large burner stove, drew curtain about her and found an acceptable state of reverie in the circumstances.
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*Pashan01
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Lyra could not keep her gaze off the bundle. A gift from their Sovana for him to take mind off the latest troubles. Her lover was right...best get it away from the market while orc presence prevailed...so to their temporary lodgings she proposed they head. Yet that house was only partially secure. He would need to set up tiny cot in their room, door to remain closed during the day and company of the orc clan.
It had been given with love and thought... Lyra sees this... she had admitted to him, yet said nothing of her feelings to either him or the Elf-Tail, while the Moon-Father had yet to reflect on this new acquisition, she could tell he was touched and why wouldn't he be?. Yet the gift had stopped Lyra in her stride and pleasure of seeing him, changing their plans for that eve. The gift needed to be dealt with first.
The bundle was yet another thing to come between, another addition to the growing 'family', another hold upon him tying him to the new accommodations. The gift, so young, would not survive long in the Hive...Lyra knows this... another call upon his time and affection...and yet, when she looked at the bundle, she felt the greatest of yearnings...but the gift was his.
It had been given with love and thought... Lyra sees this... she had admitted to him, yet said nothing of her feelings to either him or the Elf-Tail, while the Moon-Father had yet to reflect on this new acquisition, she could tell he was touched and why wouldn't he be?. Yet the gift had stopped Lyra in her stride and pleasure of seeing him, changing their plans for that eve. The gift needed to be dealt with first.
The bundle was yet another thing to come between, another addition to the growing 'family', another hold upon him tying him to the new accommodations. The gift, so young, would not survive long in the Hive...Lyra knows this... another call upon his time and affection...and yet, when she looked at the bundle, she felt the greatest of yearnings...but the gift was his.
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*Pashan01
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After standing and listening to conversation between the Bronze-Witch, the Blue-Tail and the Exotic-Sovana-Elf-Tail, and watching two males, a hin and the One-eyed-orphan-saviour make fools of themselves in the square, Lyra attempted a return of the interesting physical greeting back to the fey'ri, a touch of her slender hip to the other girl's own, before moving away from the growing crowd about the bar walls to sit quietly against a stall, facing the bar. She put out notice and retrieved her sketch pad. The view before her too tempting to miss out to draw. She even brought out some coloured inks . For there before her was a vision worthy of capturing in colour.
At least ten wallflowers of varying colours to tops and tails, a myriad of shapes and sizes. One of blue stem with spikey tips and smokey aura, one of silvery petal and luscious dark top, one bright red and bobbing about unable to keep still, one in flowing white petal with golden top and bronzed stem, some more austere swaying nearby with the others in the light breeze, heads together. And standing in the forefront of the beautiful flowers were two insects. One tiny bug clad in dark shell toying playfully with a larger green coated insect missing one of its antennae with part of its green shell having been pulled down about its spindley legs.
Lyra completed the sketch swiftly, her lips curving with amusement as she captured the natural aspects of the scene before her, adapted the reality to her imagination and artistic vision.
((OOC Maelfina, Danielle, Vara, Yasher, Felicia, Tiera, Purity and likely some others I've missed to name, all standing against the outside bar wall, with Jiro and Fargul playing silly buggers in front, Jiro trying to bash Fargul in the nuts and pulled his pants down. This was Lyra's silent artist interpretation of the scene, simple stuff, nice inspiration of a common occurrence of a gathering around the bar))
At least ten wallflowers of varying colours to tops and tails, a myriad of shapes and sizes. One of blue stem with spikey tips and smokey aura, one of silvery petal and luscious dark top, one bright red and bobbing about unable to keep still, one in flowing white petal with golden top and bronzed stem, some more austere swaying nearby with the others in the light breeze, heads together. And standing in the forefront of the beautiful flowers were two insects. One tiny bug clad in dark shell toying playfully with a larger green coated insect missing one of its antennae with part of its green shell having been pulled down about its spindley legs.
Lyra completed the sketch swiftly, her lips curving with amusement as she captured the natural aspects of the scene before her, adapted the reality to her imagination and artistic vision.
((OOC Maelfina, Danielle, Vara, Yasher, Felicia, Tiera, Purity and likely some others I've missed to name, all standing against the outside bar wall, with Jiro and Fargul playing silly buggers in front, Jiro trying to bash Fargul in the nuts and pulled his pants down. This was Lyra's silent artist interpretation of the scene, simple stuff, nice inspiration of a common occurrence of a gathering around the bar))
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*Pashan01
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((http://z13.invisionfree.com/nwn2planesc ... 2741&st=15))
While attention and aid is given to the restoration of the House of Six Fingers and the more prominent and popular establishments of the Hive, the more run down sections that contained the lesser known tattoo parlour, hive houses and nearby seedy brothel building get little attention following the earlier fires and civil unrest. Lyra cautiously returns to visit the now near empty building, climbing to the top attic and checking upon state of rooms and presence still of the little stove. She leaves note to the building's caretaker, to pass on to the landlord, indicating her intention to aid fund of the rooms for the benefit of the girls, provided the top room is brought back to good state.
Then she heads down to slip to the parlour, inspecting the damage, searching for her old boss, whom she finds shuffling about, grumbling amongst some of the debris. The walls and roof intact, yet much burnt adn singed and looking bedraggled. Lyra slips him note, an offer to help fund the restoration in exchange now for a partnership in the business. She is firm with him, her gestures clear, precise, her expression, a tilt upward of her nose and firm chin indicating her serious intent. She leaves to let him think upon her offer, hopeful.
While attention and aid is given to the restoration of the House of Six Fingers and the more prominent and popular establishments of the Hive, the more run down sections that contained the lesser known tattoo parlour, hive houses and nearby seedy brothel building get little attention following the earlier fires and civil unrest. Lyra cautiously returns to visit the now near empty building, climbing to the top attic and checking upon state of rooms and presence still of the little stove. She leaves note to the building's caretaker, to pass on to the landlord, indicating her intention to aid fund of the rooms for the benefit of the girls, provided the top room is brought back to good state.
Then she heads down to slip to the parlour, inspecting the damage, searching for her old boss, whom she finds shuffling about, grumbling amongst some of the debris. The walls and roof intact, yet much burnt adn singed and looking bedraggled. Lyra slips him note, an offer to help fund the restoration in exchange now for a partnership in the business. She is firm with him, her gestures clear, precise, her expression, a tilt upward of her nose and firm chin indicating her serious intent. She leaves to let him think upon her offer, hopeful.
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*Pashan01
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((http://z13.invisionfree.com/nwn2planesc ... t=60&#last))
Something to knock them out...make them sleep...but they are larger and more hardy than the likes of the orc chief...
Lyra's thoughts returned to the problem of the ogrillons. There had been some discussion the previous eve between the Moon-Father and one trader in the presence of the two Vorg's as to how to tame and subdue the five brothers yet to still allow them to be malleable enough to deal with the tattoo work.
The hooded trader, with tendancy to scratch scalp neath the hood as if irritated by something, was annoying to say the least in putting forth his own theories and proposals that were unproven and unknown to Lyra. She had sensible solution to her bag, yet the trader did not pause or look to her when she brought out her bottle of 'red' from a pouch in her pack to show to her mentor. She had only the one to hand, but knew how to get more, despite its rarity, alot more, in quantity if required and just needed to make assessment of what she was dealing with to figure the appropriate dosage. Admittedly, she had not dealt with ogrillon before, but knew now it was cross between ogre and orc...she could figure it with a little advice from her mentor, perhaps he too had some thought, the other elves to the house too...all were wise..this human was sticking his large nose in where not wanted. Her mentor made no comment there in the bazaar as to the worthiness of the 'red' yet Lyra knew it would work to good affect.....Lyra was loathe to use the drow arrow poison that had been put forth as one of the proposals...
She scowled at the spouting hooded merchant, becoming more and more irritated. Though perhaps her irritation had been sparked more than usual by the earlier presence and stench of the pile of dirt who had approached her as she made trade with this merchant. She could not help but narrow eyes and hiss at the female drowess, yet had wanted to finish her trade, rare enough to make for the likes of what he was selling, and she wanted to own those chains....they....interested her. Holding her breath and clenching teeth she made likely poor trade for the chain weaponery, giving up an old pair of gossamer-fine gloves she had acquired many moons ago from Baby-Face as well as a set of mage robes.
The properties of the 'red' she would mime and describe to Darremar by silent move of her lips once back in the private quarters, allowing the other two elven girls to note also, letting them communicate any of this to the orc clan leader.
The 'red' is a thick liquid, reddish in colour and known by many a Sigilian and planestraveller under the term 'Agony'. They might know from that term that the liquid is the distilled essence of pain, captured using special spells and highly sought after by outsiders.
Its initial affect is to stun, rendering the victim able only to move and act with limited capacity for some minutes following. The secondary affect then kicks in, making the victim seem more amenable and pleasant to deal with. There are some side affects however, these being feelings of intense pleasure that last a few hours and it was this aspect that Lyra gestured her caution to the other elves. If a second or subsequent dose is given within the same day, the victim immediately falls unconscious for some hours. Lyra would point out to them, that it was imperative they ensure each ogrillon was given more than one dose at the same time for this to work. The side affect should get them at ease, the second and subsquent dose would knock them out.
Having shown, mimed and mouthed her proposal, she waited for their thoughts.
Something to knock them out...make them sleep...but they are larger and more hardy than the likes of the orc chief...
Lyra's thoughts returned to the problem of the ogrillons. There had been some discussion the previous eve between the Moon-Father and one trader in the presence of the two Vorg's as to how to tame and subdue the five brothers yet to still allow them to be malleable enough to deal with the tattoo work.
The hooded trader, with tendancy to scratch scalp neath the hood as if irritated by something, was annoying to say the least in putting forth his own theories and proposals that were unproven and unknown to Lyra. She had sensible solution to her bag, yet the trader did not pause or look to her when she brought out her bottle of 'red' from a pouch in her pack to show to her mentor. She had only the one to hand, but knew how to get more, despite its rarity, alot more, in quantity if required and just needed to make assessment of what she was dealing with to figure the appropriate dosage. Admittedly, she had not dealt with ogrillon before, but knew now it was cross between ogre and orc...she could figure it with a little advice from her mentor, perhaps he too had some thought, the other elves to the house too...all were wise..this human was sticking his large nose in where not wanted. Her mentor made no comment there in the bazaar as to the worthiness of the 'red' yet Lyra knew it would work to good affect.....Lyra was loathe to use the drow arrow poison that had been put forth as one of the proposals...
She scowled at the spouting hooded merchant, becoming more and more irritated. Though perhaps her irritation had been sparked more than usual by the earlier presence and stench of the pile of dirt who had approached her as she made trade with this merchant. She could not help but narrow eyes and hiss at the female drowess, yet had wanted to finish her trade, rare enough to make for the likes of what he was selling, and she wanted to own those chains....they....interested her. Holding her breath and clenching teeth she made likely poor trade for the chain weaponery, giving up an old pair of gossamer-fine gloves she had acquired many moons ago from Baby-Face as well as a set of mage robes.
The properties of the 'red' she would mime and describe to Darremar by silent move of her lips once back in the private quarters, allowing the other two elven girls to note also, letting them communicate any of this to the orc clan leader.
The 'red' is a thick liquid, reddish in colour and known by many a Sigilian and planestraveller under the term 'Agony'. They might know from that term that the liquid is the distilled essence of pain, captured using special spells and highly sought after by outsiders.
Its initial affect is to stun, rendering the victim able only to move and act with limited capacity for some minutes following. The secondary affect then kicks in, making the victim seem more amenable and pleasant to deal with. There are some side affects however, these being feelings of intense pleasure that last a few hours and it was this aspect that Lyra gestured her caution to the other elves. If a second or subsequent dose is given within the same day, the victim immediately falls unconscious for some hours. Lyra would point out to them, that it was imperative they ensure each ogrillon was given more than one dose at the same time for this to work. The side affect should get them at ease, the second and subsquent dose would knock them out.
Having shown, mimed and mouthed her proposal, she waited for their thoughts.
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*Pashan01
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Selfish
She blinked afew times to limit the shine to her eyes and glanced with sadness again around the small charred room, her gaze settling upon the little stove, a symbol of what this room in the hive meant to her.
They had 'talked' of sharing...his jink was hers, he had amassed a small fortune and was offering to share it, use it towards their future, whatever that might be, be it restoration or...family. And that was the crux of it...the essence of family was there for him in this communal living with the fey'ri, with his Sovani dropping in with growing frequency. He was feeling it, missing it, nurturing it more so than she, her ties still remained linked to place, not people...she was clinging desperately to all that she knew, selfishly.
So she agreed to his request, that she would not show of her haste to leave their Sovana's abode, she also had no wish to offend the fey'ri and in return he would help her with funding the renovations. She was not 'unhappy' there with him and the Sovana, but the large house was in rich man's ward, strangers for neighbours
and...well.. not..familiar as the hive, the attic room had been her first effort at change, she had just began to get used to sharing with one elf, him, nice and cosy in familiar surrounds, now she was thrust into more....to what seemed like a growing harem of sisters, elven and feline. What was to come next....Vorgazelle?
Family, what memories she had and hankered for of family were different to his and she tried to explain a little of her childhood memory of father, brother, cousins...even of what Fire-Cheeks, her previous 'lover' had meant to her, felt to her then. Yet the difference and meaning of 'lover' was so much clearer to her now.
Yet with some clarity and compromise made between them, some of the things she had planned to 'talk' to him about remained for another time and they left the small damaged room of the hive brothel to return to the lady's ward.
She blinked afew times to limit the shine to her eyes and glanced with sadness again around the small charred room, her gaze settling upon the little stove, a symbol of what this room in the hive meant to her.
They had 'talked' of sharing...his jink was hers, he had amassed a small fortune and was offering to share it, use it towards their future, whatever that might be, be it restoration or...family. And that was the crux of it...the essence of family was there for him in this communal living with the fey'ri, with his Sovani dropping in with growing frequency. He was feeling it, missing it, nurturing it more so than she, her ties still remained linked to place, not people...she was clinging desperately to all that she knew, selfishly.
So she agreed to his request, that she would not show of her haste to leave their Sovana's abode, she also had no wish to offend the fey'ri and in return he would help her with funding the renovations. She was not 'unhappy' there with him and the Sovana, but the large house was in rich man's ward, strangers for neighbours
and...well.. not..familiar as the hive, the attic room had been her first effort at change, she had just began to get used to sharing with one elf, him, nice and cosy in familiar surrounds, now she was thrust into more....to what seemed like a growing harem of sisters, elven and feline. What was to come next....Vorgazelle?
Family, what memories she had and hankered for of family were different to his and she tried to explain a little of her childhood memory of father, brother, cousins...even of what Fire-Cheeks, her previous 'lover' had meant to her, felt to her then. Yet the difference and meaning of 'lover' was so much clearer to her now.
Yet with some clarity and compromise made between them, some of the things she had planned to 'talk' to him about remained for another time and they left the small damaged room of the hive brothel to return to the lady's ward.
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*Pashan01
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He had betrayed her....lied...if not by spoken word then by lack of them. He knew her vow made as black archer, watched her kill, offered to support her...and yet had still befriended it, a Toril dirt elf...named her his sister...enchanted and bewitched by her darkness for want of more family...as she had nearly been so too taken in. How it must have laughed...what had he told it of her?
'You can do to me as you like....but do NOT hurt my brother this way' It had blocked her immediate escape, pretended affection, pretended hurt. She had looked at it fiercely.
Lyra's thoughts raced wildly as her shakey legs, still bearing slight limp from where giant had stomped and crushed her foot on a short hunt earlier, took her away from those lodgings. The attempt at explanation during their hurtful argument washed over her, despite her keen hearing she had not heard it for the most part, too phased and stunned to take it in.
Lyra need....to..think...hunt...cannot stay and she closed ears too to his pleas and words of love.
The hurt was unbearable...her throat ached from both the screech that had formed upon seeing the dark face and tears she would not allow to fall, a finger burn from the hot tea that had scalded when she had dropped the fresh cup...yet neither compared to the physical pain in her heart.
'You cannot trust anyone, kiddo' a smirking face and a pair of moon-shaped scars on pale elven features featured amongst the many thoughts that raced through her turmoiled mind. The location might have had some effect on that memory stirring as her footsteps slowed with more caution as the grasses lengthened, she clenched her fist upon that faint white scar of palm. Not even brother or ...lover her face broke to a sneer, then nearly crumpled again, until with great effort at control, she blanked it out and coldly composed her features, mindful of the dangers of the location if she did not pay attention.
Would he feel no betrayal if Lyra took vampire as brother and hid it for many moons from him? How had he expected her to react? Her eyes sought for movement as she made the path, her ears twitched at sound of footfall and rather than confront, she evaded this time, heading deeper.
She avoided the places where they had shared time together. She did not want to be found, even if he tried to look. There was only one place left.
'You can do to me as you like....but do NOT hurt my brother this way' It had blocked her immediate escape, pretended affection, pretended hurt. She had looked at it fiercely.
Lyra's thoughts raced wildly as her shakey legs, still bearing slight limp from where giant had stomped and crushed her foot on a short hunt earlier, took her away from those lodgings. The attempt at explanation during their hurtful argument washed over her, despite her keen hearing she had not heard it for the most part, too phased and stunned to take it in.
Lyra need....to..think...hunt...cannot stay and she closed ears too to his pleas and words of love.
The hurt was unbearable...her throat ached from both the screech that had formed upon seeing the dark face and tears she would not allow to fall, a finger burn from the hot tea that had scalded when she had dropped the fresh cup...yet neither compared to the physical pain in her heart.
'You cannot trust anyone, kiddo' a smirking face and a pair of moon-shaped scars on pale elven features featured amongst the many thoughts that raced through her turmoiled mind. The location might have had some effect on that memory stirring as her footsteps slowed with more caution as the grasses lengthened, she clenched her fist upon that faint white scar of palm. Not even brother or ...lover her face broke to a sneer, then nearly crumpled again, until with great effort at control, she blanked it out and coldly composed her features, mindful of the dangers of the location if she did not pay attention.
Would he feel no betrayal if Lyra took vampire as brother and hid it for many moons from him? How had he expected her to react? Her eyes sought for movement as she made the path, her ears twitched at sound of footfall and rather than confront, she evaded this time, heading deeper.
She avoided the places where they had shared time together. She did not want to be found, even if he tried to look. There was only one place left.
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*Pashan01
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She approached the old den, studied the tracks nearby as she circled around it, slowly circling in, looking for recent trace and trail, sign of wolf...or anything else.
A few large paw prints. Some days old. Nothing else.
Lyra made camp...and waited.
A few large paw prints. Some days old. Nothing else.
Lyra made camp...and waited.
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*Pashan01
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'Justice through vengeance!' she recalled with reasonable clarity the priest's motto, remembering the fervour he had inspired.
'For several millenia now, they, the traitors, the Drow have murdered and enslaved the Fair Folk. Our people have suffered countless crimes across all the realms and planes where they expand and most people cower away hopelessly as the shadow beneath descends upon them.
But we are stronger, we are without fear. We are not the many who will bow down or run away and hide, nor will our brethren forget the massacre of the Elven Courts of our homeland. We are the few who will stand and fight, and even when all hope is lost, and even if the darkness below transcends to our world in chaos, we shall do our duty and die trying to achieve as many victories as possible in the name of Shevarash. For we are fearless in the shadows, for we are His servants.'
She was not for the clergy, her silence did not lend her to become prophet as he but she showed fair skill with the simple bow he provided her and she showed promise at stealth tactic. He had taken the young mute girl under his wing and turned her sorrow, hatred and fear and channelled those strong feelings, shaped them to the belief, indoctrinated her as follower and servant to Him.
***
She was brought back from her thoughts by a rustling noise. She saw two pairs of yellow eyes and two grey muzzles peering at her from the brush, several feet off.
The runt had appeared...and he was not alone.
'For several millenia now, they, the traitors, the Drow have murdered and enslaved the Fair Folk. Our people have suffered countless crimes across all the realms and planes where they expand and most people cower away hopelessly as the shadow beneath descends upon them.
But we are stronger, we are without fear. We are not the many who will bow down or run away and hide, nor will our brethren forget the massacre of the Elven Courts of our homeland. We are the few who will stand and fight, and even when all hope is lost, and even if the darkness below transcends to our world in chaos, we shall do our duty and die trying to achieve as many victories as possible in the name of Shevarash. For we are fearless in the shadows, for we are His servants.'
She was not for the clergy, her silence did not lend her to become prophet as he but she showed fair skill with the simple bow he provided her and she showed promise at stealth tactic. He had taken the young mute girl under his wing and turned her sorrow, hatred and fear and channelled those strong feelings, shaped them to the belief, indoctrinated her as follower and servant to Him.
***
She was brought back from her thoughts by a rustling noise. She saw two pairs of yellow eyes and two grey muzzles peering at her from the brush, several feet off.
The runt had appeared...and he was not alone.
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*Pashan01
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Lyra has been neglectful
Lyra attempted a telepathic push of thought, wondering if this worked between elf and animal. Their bond was not that strong.
As the one cocked its ear, the other growled deeply and lifted lip to show large canines.
Runt...Mach....has grown...found mate
She tried again. She kept completely still, trying to appear unthreatening by bowing her head, and lowering her eyes after making that thought. She had her bow lying across her lap and the claw was close, dangling from belt. She still might reach the first, this mate could be a problem.
It was true, the runt had grown to maturity in the moons since she last saw him. No longer did his body appear too large or rangy for its paws, his coat was sleeker, he had filled out.
Well fed.. she thought dryly ..the mate proves better hunting partner
They did not use the den. That was evident from the tracks. Yet he still must roam the area to have picked up her scent.
Lyra stay here a bit...will not call upon Mach
She eyed the bitch warily, not wishing to have to kill this one if it attacked.
The runt made a whine, its black nose sniffed the air. She didn't know if it understood but the two turned away to lope back into the undergrowth, leaving her there.
Lyra attempted a telepathic push of thought, wondering if this worked between elf and animal. Their bond was not that strong.
As the one cocked its ear, the other growled deeply and lifted lip to show large canines.
Runt...Mach....has grown...found mate
She tried again. She kept completely still, trying to appear unthreatening by bowing her head, and lowering her eyes after making that thought. She had her bow lying across her lap and the claw was close, dangling from belt. She still might reach the first, this mate could be a problem.
It was true, the runt had grown to maturity in the moons since she last saw him. No longer did his body appear too large or rangy for its paws, his coat was sleeker, he had filled out.
Well fed.. she thought dryly ..the mate proves better hunting partner
They did not use the den. That was evident from the tracks. Yet he still must roam the area to have picked up her scent.
Lyra stay here a bit...will not call upon Mach
She eyed the bitch warily, not wishing to have to kill this one if it attacked.
The runt made a whine, its black nose sniffed the air. She didn't know if it understood but the two turned away to lope back into the undergrowth, leaving her there.