04-23-2013, 02:02 PM
[thanks, Kai!]
The wolves descend upon the stag. Nina watches, her expression blandly curious until the boy shifts, comes forward, gives them their instructions. She cranes her neck, stretching her body to its full height to see where he points. Her eyes shift back to him when he waves his hand, and then she's lowering herself back into something more relaxed.
"Thanks," she says. Looking at Jack, she shoots the wolf a grin and an upward nod, the farewell a quiet one. They came here together, but this is apparently where they part ways, even though they'll surely be headed in the same direction again soon enough. She has no plans to stay, but neither does she have any plans to leave. So it doesn't hurt to say her hellos and pay all of her dues up front.
With a snap!, the average-sized woman becomes an average-sized wolf, her fur grey and white and sometimes black, and thoroughly patched with scars. There's no need to interrupt the wolves' meal. Swiftly and silent, Underdog disappears into the darkness.
==========
The memory that Nina gives to the Earth is not an old one by any means. It's a little hazy, but with moments of perfect clarity.
She sits in homid next to the cleft in the rock wherein the caern's heart beats, temple pressed to the stone, arms wrapped around her bent knees. In this way she whispers the story of her first awakening.
Pain. Skin blistered and peeling, burned raw from a harsh midday sun. Naked. Half sunk into blood soaked sand. Eyes open, immediately fill with grit and close. Trying again, the sun blinds. A shadow falls over her face, a man cast in silhouette bends over her. A rough hand hauls her over onto her back. Something makes a hissing sound. It's her, reacting to blisters bursting, sand crusting the fresh broken skin. Voices mutter garbled words to each other. Strong arms lift her, shift her weight roughly. Her head bangs painfully against a shoulder. The edges of vision threaten blackness but she fights it.
There's more that comes after, of course, other memories, strung together by moments to make Nina the person that she is today. But that, that is the first thing that she remembers.
Memory told, she waits a moment, wet snow dusting her shoulders and clinging to her hair, before rising. It's too late now to leave this place, not on two wheels, not even on two feet or four paws. Shifting again to her lupus form, she comes down from the formation to look for a place to burrow down until the snow stops.
The wolves descend upon the stag. Nina watches, her expression blandly curious until the boy shifts, comes forward, gives them their instructions. She cranes her neck, stretching her body to its full height to see where he points. Her eyes shift back to him when he waves his hand, and then she's lowering herself back into something more relaxed.
"Thanks," she says. Looking at Jack, she shoots the wolf a grin and an upward nod, the farewell a quiet one. They came here together, but this is apparently where they part ways, even though they'll surely be headed in the same direction again soon enough. She has no plans to stay, but neither does she have any plans to leave. So it doesn't hurt to say her hellos and pay all of her dues up front.
With a snap!, the average-sized woman becomes an average-sized wolf, her fur grey and white and sometimes black, and thoroughly patched with scars. There's no need to interrupt the wolves' meal. Swiftly and silent, Underdog disappears into the darkness.
==========
The memory that Nina gives to the Earth is not an old one by any means. It's a little hazy, but with moments of perfect clarity.
She sits in homid next to the cleft in the rock wherein the caern's heart beats, temple pressed to the stone, arms wrapped around her bent knees. In this way she whispers the story of her first awakening.
Pain. Skin blistered and peeling, burned raw from a harsh midday sun. Naked. Half sunk into blood soaked sand. Eyes open, immediately fill with grit and close. Trying again, the sun blinds. A shadow falls over her face, a man cast in silhouette bends over her. A rough hand hauls her over onto her back. Something makes a hissing sound. It's her, reacting to blisters bursting, sand crusting the fresh broken skin. Voices mutter garbled words to each other. Strong arms lift her, shift her weight roughly. Her head bangs painfully against a shoulder. The edges of vision threaten blackness but she fights it.
There's more that comes after, of course, other memories, strung together by moments to make Nina the person that she is today. But that, that is the first thing that she remembers.
Memory told, she waits a moment, wet snow dusting her shoulders and clinging to her hair, before rising. It's too late now to leave this place, not on two wheels, not even on two feet or four paws. Shifting again to her lupus form, she comes down from the formation to look for a place to burrow down until the snow stops.