[t[o[n[e[d;; d esir e

[[[« cruxia »]]]

as dusky blue patches of sky were broken by the leaves, the dawn stalked along the edges of midnight. the moon has hidden behind cool, dark clouds, almost as blackened as the night sky. keeping a steady trot, as steady as the icy stare, a fey wove her way through variopus undergrowths of the splotched clearing. she placed herself in a ragged bush, almost leaveless and lifeless. the she-wolf's breath clamored around her in puffs, and she turned back, massive head seemingly all black. though, as a slat of moonlight broke the shattered clouds, it was obvious that she was white, dappled with swirled blacks. her hed rose, sorrowing lyrics pouring from her white muzzle. she settled on a silver-laden stone, eyes ever-watchful for any other from her pack.

[[ t e a g a n ]]

[t e a g a n]; her path

overhead, the dark, still sky showed signs that the sun had passed and very few marks were left until all faded into a bleak winter night. it was not uncommon, even as each sun grew longer and the time under Lady Luna's light faltered. the winter months were always like this; always had been and were always expected to, its what the wolves expected, what they prepared for. and the long months during the falling of the leaves had paid off in the end; here they were ready for the coming spring and the promises that lay ahead...

the wolven trotted along, a brisk pace, with short limbs extending to their fullest. around her, her breath was drawn back in a thick fog, as the silent world moved by. she was panting, any could tell, and whether it was due to age or the fitness of her health was unknown. mind, she was not old, nor was she young, she was in her prime, that of a fit age, the norm of the snare; but then again, it only depends on your outlook on life. where a cub might see the shaman as an old and wise being, an elder or teller may consider her to be young and beautiful.

no, that was not correct. she was not beautiful, nor did she feel that. she was of mixed blood; part wolfen, part dog. the odd mix drew alot of attention, but not the kind that is desired by many femmes; it was the curious looks and quizzical expressions that were cast. not that any of that concerned the wolfen at all, it was just something hard to miss. after all, this is a femme not like the rest within the Vanity pack, she was her own wolf and her heart's longing drew apart from the rest; this was Teagan.

Teagan, in all her part-blood glory, worked her way down the familiar path to the Splotched Clearing; the home to many of the useful herbs that should be just about sprouting. it was one often walked, and needed in the coming new seasons; that was her reason and being for the late walk --er, trot, and possibly another. ears flickered and nares quivered as she came to the sunken piece of territory; picking up the scent of another pack member. as the mixed femme drew closer, she recognized the other wolfen at once as the she-wolf leader of Vanity; Sarai. no words came however, and she went about her business to scout the plants she had come for in the first place, listening to the somber song that the alpha uttered.

and the little

within

[[[« cruxia »]]]

the mournful song was cut short while it danced in sarai's ears as a fey with crimson randomly placed along the smoky grays and blacks of her pelt entered the heart of the splotched clearing, her occuli ever-wise and ever-alert. the shadow of the trees slid into deeper hues as the last glow of twilight hit the clouds. the clumps of shadow plants half-hid the fey's face, and sarai's own dingy gray-brown face sent waves of looks toward the femme. shallow pools of sunset were evaporating into moonlight, changing from crimson to a pure golden. the look of territorial defense melted into relief and sarai stood up, luxuriously stretching her gaiting limbs. a thick, smooth pelt of gray-brown blanketed sarai, and set in her graceful head were two glossy blue eyes. welcome, teagan. she spoke the name of vanity's healer. teagan's name meant little poet, and many doted on her beautiful cry of sorrow and courage twined together. quite a music. need to stock up on more herbs, I suppose? she asked, plumy trail wrapping around her solid white forepaws.

[[ t e a g a n ]]

[t e a g a n]; her path

the song of the wolf is a beautiful thing; something from deep within that burst to be free. it is all the feeling and care in the world and unique to every being alike. we all have our song; whether it be somber or blissful, lonely or joyous. the song tells of the past, the wolf's life as a cub, or that of growing old; it is something that only time brings...

auds flickered once more as the gentle song ended and the wolfen approached. as the partbreed turned to face the leader, ears flew back and her tail dropped. the leader turned on her with a deep agression; but what had she done? Teagan soon relaxed just as Sarai recognised her face, and she let her stance turn to its more upright state. "Hullo, Sarai. What--" her sentence cut short just as the alpha continued on as the brief pause. she gave a slight smile of amusement, but nodded none the less. "Yes, just checking up on the new buds that should be arriving with the warming weather. Hopefully this brisk air will take leave soon."

the red-grey wolfen smiled and ducked her nose to tread through the blades of grass ahead of her, detecting the scents of those plants she had been here for. when she lifted her large head once more, she gave the grey-brown wolfen a questioning expression. "And what is it that drew you out into the brisk night?"

and the little

within

[0o._Shiba_.o0]

Whisper the winds and I overheard...

following diligently, with nary a care in the world save her loyalty to her leader. her mentor, her companion, the closest she had to a family...

trotting birsquely, her breath crystalized in the nippy air about her. tagging along like a happy pup, but with the regal stature of a great creature, the powdered femme placed her foot into the marks of her alpha. those spots already tordden upon by sarai, she would pick her feet carefully into them, easing her journey through the snowy banks. she was vaguely aware of another body, another pocket of warmness nearby. turning her snowy head, she breathed in the scent of her shaman, the she-wolf teagan. not speaking much of anything, she gave a low dog-like noise, indicating her presence to the other two females. even though her scent was detectable, it was the polite thing to do in the presence of her alpha. giving sairi a polite nip on the chin*, she whispered softly, This cold front should be moving away any day now. We will need to have dens prepared for any new pups on the way for spring. dipping her head to show she was finished, she crossed her paws neatly and sat atently, ears perked.