06-22-2013, 06:36 AM
Two homid wolves of average height for their genders join the circle. The others might have maybe seen but not spoken to Celduin last night. Both of Fog's children wear their dark hair long and he walks beside she, not much older and not at all more experienced. His carriage betrays a station of leadership he doesn't boast because he doesn't feel it. He can't lie even when he doesn't open his mouth.
To look at them one can hazard a guess: Uktena and Fiann. Or Child of Gaia and Fiann. His lineage doesn't out him but hers does. She can be nothing else but Fianna. They stand alone.
And they watch and they maybe feel the start of the sky opening up and he leans against her easy for his apprehension. When it's time to shift and lift their voices he shifts and lifts his voice, ragged for the journey that brought them here but strong and young and savage for the pain and joy of living yet to tell about it.
To look at them one can hazard a guess: Uktena and Fiann. Or Child of Gaia and Fiann. His lineage doesn't out him but hers does. She can be nothing else but Fianna. They stand alone.
And they watch and they maybe feel the start of the sky opening up and he leans against her easy for his apprehension. When it's time to shift and lift their voices he shifts and lifts his voice, ragged for the journey that brought them here but strong and young and savage for the pain and joy of living yet to tell about it.