The swim that morning had been cold, had left her shaking in her lean figure. She shook from the icy bite that the sea water had left in her flesh - and at the fact she must wash away the salty itch using the equally as icy snow. She was too lean for the winter, too lithe and limber when she ought to have bulked in density of fur. She was raised in a place too warm to compare to this sort of winter and it left much to be desired now that she was having to adapt yet again. Selene had been missing of late and so her nights were spent in a half-sleep. Ever drifting, she found herself amid the faces of her nightmares more often than not and her missing charge only left more nightmares waiting their turn. Had Jaye died in a place she could not reach? Had she fallen from the cliffs near the expanse between the badland pack Diveen?

               She lays in the snow where she had lay and rolled the salt away, letting her own body heat dry her as she pondered. She was a somber girl, to be honest. Her mind often wandered to the darker corners of her imagination, true to her father's blood. She rolls to her belly, looking up at the branches of the birch wood portion of forest. The white snow atop white bark with the ruddy flecks and scars that broke up the white in between. The look is wistful as the snow begins to fall again, the sounds of the bare trees as more snow alighted upon them like soft whispers and sighs, flakes and piles of the white burden shifting atop their roosts. No birds flew or sang in this quiet, cloudy, near-afternoon. The world is quiet and the gentle innocence of the peace is what made her heart settle.

               She could not hear the waves this far inland, could not be bothered with worries as the world around her lay still. She relished the respite that this place offered and she found herself more enamored than antagonized by the chilled water that floated lazily from the skies. It was not a hard snow by any means, but it was equally not as light as to call it a flurry. She muses over the stuff as she turns to look back over her lean flank where white specks congregate slowly before melting away. She stands then, longer than normal appendages and build making it seem far more graceful than it ought to have looked. She is built to look exotic, to seem more than her species could be. Her neck is longer, her tail too, and her body had the curvature of a greyhound -- or more closely a Saluki with how her fur wisped about her at a lovelier length.

               Her legs propels her into a prance, her eyes on the gray sky through the branch barred canopy, leaves long having deserted the limbs for the winter. She dances in circles, playing with her own eyes as she tries to follow singular flakes in her idle day of rest, making them land on her brow when she can. She dances this way, each motion like it is choreographed, long and slender legs twisting her agile form in circles and sashays. And then you are betrayed, silver-stalker. A twig, a small branch, no matter... It snaps and her long delicate ears snap to attention and her gemstone eyes flash. She snaps her head around at a near impossible speed, legs rigid because she knows that she cannot best another in a fight - and is prepared with the slightest notion of danger, to flee.


The Obsidian Beauty of Glorall
[ female - two - no mate - no imprint - islander ]