Strangely Divine [OPEN]

[Deleted]

Were it still that other time
I'd make time itself somehow bend

Moonlight glimmered upon the glassy pool. Delicate lines of silver were traced with an artist's fine hand, measured in careful brushstrokes; nothing left to chance. All was still; hardly a leaf stirred. No wind flowed to ruffle the mirror-like surface of the lake, or dance wildly between the leaves of the trees - or even to comb gently through her silky fur. Each careful inhale of the chilly air brought the her the scents of fire, of ice, and of all the wild places of the night. Scents that were cold and deep, where darkness seemed to thrum with a deep light of its own.

For a brief instance, her blood stirred hotly within her veins. The next breath cleansed the desire to run wild beneath the heavy light of the full moon. Fawn padded forward, staring down at her crystal reflection within the still waters. Moonlight had touched her pale coat with silver, highlighting the ethereal strands and giving her a fey, ephemeral glow. The dove tilted her head, iridescent pools of emerald glistening curiously. I hardly recognise myself. I look... Different. Almost pretty. A slight hint of a smile rose upon those pale lips, petal-soft and deprecating.

This running away business was much easier said than done, in truth. Hurting and furious, it had been the most natural act in the world to strike out on her own. She had imagined the triumph she would feel, the the way sun's golden rays would warm her snowy pelt, free lands spilling in front of her. They would stretch out into the distance, further than any eye could ever see. Unending, where trees became mere dots upon the horizon, and lakes were cool, glimmering jewels set within an emerald green backdrop.

Here she was. Alone and free. But now, the freedom she had always longed for did not seem quite so thrilling, as it once had been. The days were simple and monotonous, removed from the busyness of pack life. No responsibilities, nothing to watch over. What had once appealed to the young fae now seemed routine. Directionless, with no purpose in life. She drifted, as a leaf on the wind, following where her paws took her. At times, she would encounter others, exchanging merely pleasant nods, before moving along, each trapped within their own world.

Fawn hardly knew what she wanted - but this, she was certain of: I am not suited to such melancholic thoughts. It makes me weary beyond belief... the urge to linger and fade grows each passing day. The fae shook her head, rising silently to her paws, her mind, for once, blissfully silent.

Then, with a burst of energy, Fawn dipped a paw into the still waters, playfully batting at the ripples till they spread in ever-widening circles. Her tail wagged gently, green eyes gleaming with sudden mirth.

Fawn thinks.

But now I'm not that strong
And time keeps moving on

[Lynker]

In his den underneath a large tree stump by the lakeside, a scruffy black male stirred uncomfortably. His nose twitched at the offensive stench assaulting his nostrils – wolf. Not another one. Pearly white fangs bared themselves in fury at the intruder’s impudence, and Lynker found himself rolling to his paws despite the late hour and squeezing past his mammoth friend Curse in order to confront whatever fool had dared to enter his home without permission.

The territorial male’s eyes glittered hazel in the moonlight as he stalked across the shore, nose flaring in order to pinpoint the intruder. Nyspoli’s Pool was his and his alone. Too many loners’ scents had been here recently, disrespecting his carefully marked boundaries. Of course, his methods of marking out his land were different to the traditional wolf’s – as he preferred to instead scratch grooves into the trees with his unusually long bear-like claws – but who in their right mind would enter a bear’s territory anyway?

Finally he found the one who was causing him so much trouble tonight. It was a female, young and slender, playing around in the shallows without a care in the world. Her pale fur caught the light of the moon in the most beautiful way, almost dazzling in its brightness amid the shadows of the night. Kind of pretty… No! How could he even think such a thing? She was a wolf, a trespasser, an enemy. He didn’t care about how innocent she looked; their entire species was rotten at heart and he would not let a simple appearance shake his resolve. His time within the Zakur pack had made him too soft; he needed to reassert his dominance over this section of the Oriens or again risk having his beloved home trampled over by hundreds of pairs of foreign paws. There was no room for silly sentiments.

“Who are you, wolf? Your kind is not welcome here,” Lynker spat, his voice dripping with venom and the thick grating accent of a bear. Dark fur bristled angrily as the antisocial outcast attempted to make himself appear larger and more threatening than the runt he really was. He would teach these useless wolves to stop walking all over him as if he were nothing.