|no matter what we breed|
In the dawning of the morning Shiloh stirs. She arises from her curled position and stretches her legs, yawning wide and breathing in the warm dewy air that has settled over the land. It is in moments of bliss such as these that the adventure in her heart cries for release. Today she would let it go. Today she would explore the lands of Moladion. Because she is always so distant from her family, hidden within the confines of Diveen's lush vegetation, she hopes that they will not miss her presence. Will not sense her departure into the wildlands beyond. At one year old Shiloh has burgeoned into a strong female. She will be large as her father is, with broad shoulders that slip back into powerful muscles. But her body tapers into a slim waist, the trappings of a female, and yet the outline of muscle grows there too. Shiloh will not be a racer but a fighter.
She slips out of Diveen and travels through the various lands of Moladion, pausing frequently to catch new scents and sneak about without being seen until finally she has met up with the easy-going river. It does not churn and almost looks peaceful enough for her to jump in but she is aware of an undercurrent that tows the water along. So she sits on the banks watching the water move and the faint outline of fish slapping their tails beneath the surface.
By now the afternoon sun has arisen and the air is slightly humid with the heat of a wet spring. Small splashes of water land upon her deep black fur. It is a black that does not shine - she is a like a black void in the middle of the day with the exception of her top jaw which is feathered in tan fur. In the direct sunlight a tan-gold sheen lies beneath the black of her hips down to her tail and her royal blue eyes stand out against the darkness about her, split by the green starburst around her pupils. She is an oddity of beauty despite one front paw that is slightly twisted, a deformity of birth.
She is a princess - albeit not really close to the throne. A daughter of the great Isola and Kane, but perhaps a forgotten child, or maybe it is a forced isolation that she seeks. Shiloh is uncomfortably aware of her malformed paw and tries ever so hard to be as graceful, as perfect as the angel's were meant to be but sometimes it is too taxing. Today, however, she is free to gaze upon the riverside and while away the day in bliss.
S H I L O H
| we still are made of greed |
one year old - Third Princess of Diveen - no heart/no soul - Kane x Isola
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