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Post by iokaste on Jun 8, 2010 10:45:50 GMT -5
The gentle song flew much in the same ways as its host, the bird calls mixing and intermingling into a beautiful myriad of sound that even a creature such as she could appreciate. The silver ghost lay quiet and still as though an ancient statue planted in the fields, an unmoving guardian. A cool zephyr blew in from the west, setting her ashen fur atumble, the silvery lengths billowing in waves in the same manner as the tall grass stalks as they were kissed by the gentle breeze and drawing a contented sigh that had not left those ebonite lips in many a day, how long had it been since she had felt this sort of peace within? Molten pools were slowly concealed as the lids came down, their owner reveling in the sudden manifestation of the breeze with an instant abandon, a gentle curve even beginning to play upon her lips. She lay there at the edge of the field like a sphinx of old, paws placed nobly in front, and head held high to welcome the day.
This short moment of tranquility eventually came to an end, the natural sounds of the earth though soothing were no reason for her to become so happy-go lucky in public. Emotion was a weakness best left unexercised all. The smile quickly faded to be replaced by a much more serious appearance, the line becoming completely straight along her muzzle, eyes revealed once more in their general unemotional gaze. She rose slowly from her position, peppered rump being raised high in the air and legs being stretched forward to their limit in a catlike stretch, tail even higher behind until the pose was reverted, she leaning forward like a hound leaning towards the hunt. Once the movements had been completed her loosened body was set into motion, the loping gait little more than a run across the open plains, the rhythmical placement of her paws following the metronomic beat of her heart like finely tuned instrument, coming to a stop upon a hillock, the dying grass already fading in color with the coming of autumn.
Soon the songs of the birds would become faint, disappearing altogether as the chilled winds of winter pushed them south to warmer climates. The lands would be cold, gripped in the cold fist of winter and leaving the surrounding inhabitants of the land to be assaulted mercilessly by its violent throes. Her gaze moved west towards the direction of the other packs, likely there would be few prey, resulting in large amounts of competition and likely a few violent excursions. She stood there alone on the hillock, motionless with gaze troubled. |
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