01-22-2017, 07:11 PM
In the far east, dawn rose with ruddy cheeks and crept over the hills, turning what had once been shapeless, black masses into solitary trees and the occasional lone horse. The smell of the gathering grounds was nearly overpowering, even from where Circinae lingered in the treeline, watching the sun slowly creep into the sky. She’d been there (the forest, that is) for nearly a full moon cycle, waiting for … well, even she couldn’t be sure anymore. Not long ago it seemed that she’d had Raeanne and a faint sense of security.
But the wolf dreams had returned, bringing with them an overwhelming memory of the incredible senses she’d once experienced - the smells, the sounds, the tastes. Each was sharper than she had ever remembered it, and in the mornings she would wake with the copper tang of blood in her mouth. It wasn’t long after that Circinae had parted from her beautifully naive companion, and found herself alone again, back to the place she’d thought she’d put behind her.
Waiting would do her no good, she knew that now, and even as she hovered restlessly she could see the trickling of odd horses that appeared from other directions, following the worn paths that signaled they had come from elsewhere. Recruiters. They had a certain expression, a strange confidence about them that was unmistakeable to a native Beqanna dweller. They had what Circinae so clearly lacked - position, purpose … perhaps even family. But still, she waited.
At last, when the pale golden light of the afternoon touched even the dark trunks that surrounded her, Circinae picked up her inky blue hooves and trotted briskly from her dwelling, letting the bright sun wash over her plush, green coat. It was the perfect moment, she thought, for a new beginning, even if that beginning was the start of something terrible.
But the wolf dreams had returned, bringing with them an overwhelming memory of the incredible senses she’d once experienced - the smells, the sounds, the tastes. Each was sharper than she had ever remembered it, and in the mornings she would wake with the copper tang of blood in her mouth. It wasn’t long after that Circinae had parted from her beautifully naive companion, and found herself alone again, back to the place she’d thought she’d put behind her.
Waiting would do her no good, she knew that now, and even as she hovered restlessly she could see the trickling of odd horses that appeared from other directions, following the worn paths that signaled they had come from elsewhere. Recruiters. They had a certain expression, a strange confidence about them that was unmistakeable to a native Beqanna dweller. They had what Circinae so clearly lacked - position, purpose … perhaps even family. But still, she waited.
At last, when the pale golden light of the afternoon touched even the dark trunks that surrounded her, Circinae picked up her inky blue hooves and trotted briskly from her dwelling, letting the bright sun wash over her plush, green coat. It was the perfect moment, she thought, for a new beginning, even if that beginning was the start of something terrible.
Circinae
I need the crack of a whip, I need some blood in the cut
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