Dance, my little puppets,

Win/6.1/01

     Winter was… pretty in its own way. While Nakki found white a boring, distasteful hue, she did admire the ornaments of icicles that adorned the trees of the xyst. The light filtering through the grey sky reflected off the glassy surface of the ice in an array of colors. It casted faded rainbows on to the dark trunks of the trees. Who would have thought a Demon could admire beauty? Näkki yawned her jaws wide and walked down the path lit path lined with dark trees. She had no particular destination in mind other than to find a wolf to chat with. This is what she normally did in freelands. Despite her recent endeavours of hunting her own kind, she truthfully didn’t make it much of a habit.She was only restless as she tried to adjust to her new home. She was finally starting to settle in, though. She’d been finding her place in Iromar, and now she felt right at home.

     Now, she turned to her normal activities of lazy wandering, and pointless chatter. She liked hearing rumors and seeing new wolves come and go. For a couple of hours she’d meandered through the wild winter garden. Despite the freezing temperature, her body felt warm because of the movement. The work it took to maneuver through the deep snow for hours caused her to pant quietly through parted teeth. The dry air sucked the moisture from her mouth out and now she was compelled to find a source with which to quench her thirst.

     Her nose tingled as it searched for the aroma of water. It wasn’t long before she arrived at Ruieze Lake. Her ears tilted forwards in interest at seeing a white wolf being approached by a pair of black ones. At first, her instincts sent her a caveat. The twins didn’t seem hostile, but they didn’t look terribly good natured. Were they potential candidates for Iromar, then? So, she settled herself to watch for a moment. Their words fell strange onto her ears. She had never heard the harsh tongue that they grumbled. She attempted to identify the roots of their words, but it seems their language was not of the same origins as hers. Well, she’d have to learn then.

     Her pink eyes then studied the white wolf, whom smelt of Taviora. She knew then that this was Wraith. Although he wouldn’t know her, for they had never meant, she did know of him. He resembled his entire hideously white family, after all. Andras had informed her of much of the history Iromar had suffered, including his desertion. She wasn’t thrilled to see him, but perhaps there was hope yet that he’d return to the darkness of the swamps where he belonged. Thus, Nakki found she wasn’t compelled to join in on some bullying fun. Rather, she wondered if she could convince all of them to visit the swampland. Contrary to popular belief, the swamp was a nice place in winter. The water was frozen, the alligators were gone, and Andras was welcoming to guests. Well, relatively speaking. Andras wasn’t terribly friendly, but if the mood struck him, he could be hospitable.

     Satisfied with her observations, she approached at a trot. It was a flat, smooth gait. That of a predator, but her obvious approach meant she wasn’t on the hunt today. As she approached, she noted the individuals’ conformations. Wraith was her height, but even leaner. Hell, from afar he probably rivaled her for femininity. She found him interesting to look at. If not for his bland fur, she might have looked twice. She gave him a nod of greeting before she turned her metallic eyes on the two black wolves next. She stood taller than them, but for their sizes, she and them held similar builds.

     “Do the either of you speak this language?” Näkki asked.

     If not, then she supposed she’d resort to body language and pointing. She wasn’t going to reveal to them the language of latin; it was forbidden to use in the presence of those other than Demons or Fallen Angels. Hopefully, she could find some level of communication with them. They were intriguing with their strange likeness to each other. Luckily, wolves could be identified by more than just sight. She’d have to memorize their scents and attempt to remember which set of eyes went with each smell.

     word of day: caveat

Näkki