Post by Chenoa on Dec 22, 2009 19:26:54 GMT -8
Silence, that's all she wished for, and yet with all the noise in the bar, that was the last thing she received. Hustle and bustle, barking and spitting, laughing, joking, yelling and grumbling. None of it could be drowned out, and yet, here she sat, ignoring it all. One delicate hand was placed on a chilled glass of water, not wishing to partake in grasping alcohol again. Not after the funeral...not after another loss.
Her mind wandered, as it would often do now a days, drifting away to lighter times, sliding away to darker ones. Tonight, it drifted to the voice of her Beta, the Cliath who spoke her mind so vividly, her color seemed too bright to extinguish. Amidst the other hues of her pack, Dancer was definitely the brightest, the most vivid. Yes, Chenoa was blind, but she was able to see some things. She remembered colors, and although she could not see her individual pack mates as they truly were, she could smell them vividly, as if they all sported different shades of color. Dancer's, was most definitely a red hue, crimson and firey, where as Strange Blood's was more of a deep blue, quiet and collected. She saw her own scent as white, and everything else in the world that had a scent was some other shade of colors. Anything that didn't have a scent, was merely black. Her world had colors only she could see with broken eyes.
For now, she let her mind rest on the spitfire young lady who had happened to become the beta of the pack. Dancer, a 15 year old girl who outwardly didn't look very special but truth be told, she was much more unique then the eye would given her credit for. Chenoa never knew what she looked like, as far as the color of her fur or the sparkle in her eyes, but she knew of her age, and of her damned determination.
"Don't Be A Bitch."
The words were harsh, full of russian disdain and anger. She could feel her hand grasp the water a little tighter with the thought of it. How dare that little brat call her such a name. Disrespect her in such a way. Was she not the little twit's elder? Was she not valued at some kind of level? A soft growl managed to squeeze it's way out of Chenoa's lips, her silvery moon eyes gleaming brightly over the top of her darkened shades. Anger coursed through her, she wanted to show Dancer that she was wrong, that Dancer was just a pup and shouldn't talk to her that way. And yet...
She has a point you know... said a sinisterly snake like voice in the back of her head, coiling itself around her mind, arguing it's point back and forth with Chenoa's own. She is still the Beta of the pack you reside in...and she wishes more Shadowlords to join...perhaps becoming more dark yourself will earn her favor and respect will come itself.. Why should I want to strive to respect her? She is Cliath, I am Fostern; she should show me respect regardless if she is higher rank in the pack or not. This is true...but perhaps your more kind and gentle ways are not something she is used to..Perhaps if you were to think more darkly, then maybe your status in the pack would rise...She is only a child after all, she needs protection herself am I right? I suppose...Good...Goood....You must protect her, isn't that your oath? Yes, but how do I protect anyone, including myself when I can't see?
There was silence for a while from that inner voice, and for a moment the twisted Uktena thought she had won the argument..Maybe you should make something that would help you to see better, or perhaps...make your enemies see less... Yes...That is a good idea..A splendid idea A splendid idea... I will need training though...Do you think she would be able to help? Do you think her willing? Think her willing? Can't help but ask, now can you? Can't help but ask...can I....
Her mind, though twisted and darker, had made up it's mind at last. Her ears listened intently, her nose twitched softly, and even her head lifted a little more, her senses searching for the one she'd need to ask. Looking for the one she'd have to confront. The serpent continued it's coiling about her thoughts, twisting it futher and a light grin spread over her face. Not one of her normal attire, but one of a more sinister nature. She would sit, and she would wait for that troublesome little fifteen year old brat...She would wait for Death Dancer...
Her mind wandered, as it would often do now a days, drifting away to lighter times, sliding away to darker ones. Tonight, it drifted to the voice of her Beta, the Cliath who spoke her mind so vividly, her color seemed too bright to extinguish. Amidst the other hues of her pack, Dancer was definitely the brightest, the most vivid. Yes, Chenoa was blind, but she was able to see some things. She remembered colors, and although she could not see her individual pack mates as they truly were, she could smell them vividly, as if they all sported different shades of color. Dancer's, was most definitely a red hue, crimson and firey, where as Strange Blood's was more of a deep blue, quiet and collected. She saw her own scent as white, and everything else in the world that had a scent was some other shade of colors. Anything that didn't have a scent, was merely black. Her world had colors only she could see with broken eyes.
For now, she let her mind rest on the spitfire young lady who had happened to become the beta of the pack. Dancer, a 15 year old girl who outwardly didn't look very special but truth be told, she was much more unique then the eye would given her credit for. Chenoa never knew what she looked like, as far as the color of her fur or the sparkle in her eyes, but she knew of her age, and of her damned determination.
"Don't Be A Bitch."
The words were harsh, full of russian disdain and anger. She could feel her hand grasp the water a little tighter with the thought of it. How dare that little brat call her such a name. Disrespect her in such a way. Was she not the little twit's elder? Was she not valued at some kind of level? A soft growl managed to squeeze it's way out of Chenoa's lips, her silvery moon eyes gleaming brightly over the top of her darkened shades. Anger coursed through her, she wanted to show Dancer that she was wrong, that Dancer was just a pup and shouldn't talk to her that way. And yet...
She has a point you know... said a sinisterly snake like voice in the back of her head, coiling itself around her mind, arguing it's point back and forth with Chenoa's own. She is still the Beta of the pack you reside in...and she wishes more Shadowlords to join...perhaps becoming more dark yourself will earn her favor and respect will come itself.. Why should I want to strive to respect her? She is Cliath, I am Fostern; she should show me respect regardless if she is higher rank in the pack or not. This is true...but perhaps your more kind and gentle ways are not something she is used to..Perhaps if you were to think more darkly, then maybe your status in the pack would rise...She is only a child after all, she needs protection herself am I right? I suppose...Good...Goood....You must protect her, isn't that your oath? Yes, but how do I protect anyone, including myself when I can't see?
There was silence for a while from that inner voice, and for a moment the twisted Uktena thought she had won the argument..Maybe you should make something that would help you to see better, or perhaps...make your enemies see less... Yes...That is a good idea..A splendid idea A splendid idea... I will need training though...Do you think she would be able to help? Do you think her willing? Think her willing? Can't help but ask, now can you? Can't help but ask...can I....
Her mind, though twisted and darker, had made up it's mind at last. Her ears listened intently, her nose twitched softly, and even her head lifted a little more, her senses searching for the one she'd need to ask. Looking for the one she'd have to confront. The serpent continued it's coiling about her thoughts, twisting it futher and a light grin spread over her face. Not one of her normal attire, but one of a more sinister nature. She would sit, and she would wait for that troublesome little fifteen year old brat...She would wait for Death Dancer...
