07-21-2013, 06:50 AM
Charlotte was nervous when Erich challenged for a moot role at their first moot at Cold Crescent / Forgotten Promises. They'd hardly slept and she still did not grasp the two septs, one caern arrangement shared between the two septs and everyone around them were strangers and she slunk to the strange moot in Erich's shadow, lupus, not changing out of her wolf-form, not once, ears up and her body language both wary and alert.
Now a moon has passed - the full cycle of the moon from birth to death - and the moot has passed too and she's four-pawed but dire-formed this night. The better to feel her rage, to give it expression, to let it run through her veins.
Not even Charlotte-wolf knows if Erich-wolf knows how to lead a revel, and now the hush ends, shifts, the wolves open themselves to the drumming beat, the insistence of the moon above and around her there's jostling, barely restrained movement, this terrible, leashed energy building to a crescendo and she's still nervous, can feel it in the pit of her great stomach, an uncertain sourness and then he's there, in the center of the ring and she's tensed through the withers, front paws planted, ready to -
- not move.
Charlotte-wolf gives herself a great shake as that little cloud of dust reaches the edges of the ring and begins to dissipated, snaps soundlessly at the air when he lolls his tongue, tastes the metallic undertone of the rage of the gathered and swings her head as Erich paces.
When Erich-wolf sits, she yips, and she cannot be the only one but she can't help it, he's making her heart both hurt and swell like the moon and he flops down and she barks! and someone near her she cannot see whom is growling and it gets her hackles up and Erich jumps up then goes still and Charlotte-wolf takes a half-leap forward and twists to snap at a strange cliath and the nervousness is swallowed up by something large, something brighter, something that opens --
-- huge and hot in her chest when that howl finally comes.
The Wyrm Foe calls that luminous Engling from the heart of the Caern, and plunges in pursuit.
The Sept, including one skinny weirdo of a Silver Fang, surge after.
Now a moon has passed - the full cycle of the moon from birth to death - and the moot has passed too and she's four-pawed but dire-formed this night. The better to feel her rage, to give it expression, to let it run through her veins.
Not even Charlotte-wolf knows if Erich-wolf knows how to lead a revel, and now the hush ends, shifts, the wolves open themselves to the drumming beat, the insistence of the moon above and around her there's jostling, barely restrained movement, this terrible, leashed energy building to a crescendo and she's still nervous, can feel it in the pit of her great stomach, an uncertain sourness and then he's there, in the center of the ring and she's tensed through the withers, front paws planted, ready to -
- not move.
Charlotte-wolf gives herself a great shake as that little cloud of dust reaches the edges of the ring and begins to dissipated, snaps soundlessly at the air when he lolls his tongue, tastes the metallic undertone of the rage of the gathered and swings her head as Erich paces.
When Erich-wolf sits, she yips, and she cannot be the only one but she can't help it, he's making her heart both hurt and swell like the moon and he flops down and she barks! and someone near her she cannot see whom is growling and it gets her hackles up and Erich jumps up then goes still and Charlotte-wolf takes a half-leap forward and twists to snap at a strange cliath and the nervousness is swallowed up by something large, something brighter, something that opens --
-- huge and hot in her chest when that howl finally comes.
The Wyrm Foe calls that luminous Engling from the heart of the Caern, and plunges in pursuit.
The Sept, including one skinny weirdo of a Silver Fang, surge after.
But my heart is wild and my bones are steel
And I could kill you with my bare hands if I was free.
- Phosphorescent, Song for Zula
And I could kill you with my bare hands if I was free.
- Phosphorescent, Song for Zula