Post by danny on Jun 7, 2011 14:40:07 GMT -5
The woman’s plan was falling into place. Her mind was a rush of both excitement and terror- never before had she planned something so evil before! Never in her days would she think that she could one day seek out her revenge like she was doing now… Arthur would come to her soon. Three days hence he would make his way to her. But she had to find her own way to her planned location first! Morgause had been travelling for a day, she was now deep in the forest of Camelot. Her sharp eyes and stern expression were evident ever more on her pretty face. Dusk was falling now and she realised it was time to settle down for the night. Onwards she kicked her horse, the blonde lady pulling her maroon cloak further around her. She scanned the dusty sky for signs that the weather would change and her sight confirmed there was not a grey cloud in the sky. It would be a warm night. Morgause gently dismounted when she was sure her companion and she were in a spacious yet concealed location. She patted the gray thoroughbred - who’s sire and dam had been of pure and strong blood - and spoke to the creature softly. Horses were gentle, noble creatures and were to be treated with respect. However much she despised half of the human world she could never get angry at steed’s. They wouldn’t betray her trust or throw her out of her home. Horses she could trust.
She was out of her leathers and armour and now into suitable women’s clothing. She was more comfortable in armour actually, she felt more protected and not as vulnerable, but the appearance of a lady always had it’s advantages….she thought of this with a cruel smirk. Morgause tugged her horse, named Victor, and eventually tied him to a strong looking tree. And then smoothly she had collected several sticks and placed them on a pile of dirt. Conjuring a quick spell, she focused on the makings of a fire. “ád.” She stated sternly, voice sounding strange in the word she used. Flames licked the side of the wood and then roared upwards, sparking into a beautifully warm fire. In no time she had also conjured up a little shelter, and now she sat huddled by the fire, rubbing her hands with ferocity. With dusk came both advantages and dis-advantages….the darkness, the cover of night that she could hide in. And then the cold. Fire was her main ally at night time.
Time passed and her gentle lids flickered a little. She soon shot her dark eyes open though when the thought of food came across her. At once she fled to her saddle-bag’s and pulled out a container of fine meat stolen that morning. She pulled out the salted pork and retired back to the fire side again, using sticks to gently cook the meat. When it was done she lifted a few shreds to her mouth and took ravenous bites. But her eating time was disturbed. The sound of howls echoed through the air. Familiar howls, the sound of a wolf pack. And by the sound of it they were hunting… though just what they were hunting was unknown to her. Their rabid growls and snarls grew louder and closer. The lady quickly drew her sword from where it was concealed and struck it forward in protection. A rustling in the bushes and she jumped… Victor grew very uneasy and scraped the upturned turf with his hoof uncertainly. The whites of his eyes showed in terror as suddenly a bedraggled form jumped from the undergrowth. A wolf, though not even half the majestic beast Morgause had been expecting. Clumps of his fur were missing and he bore many wounds, he limped towards her and his amber gaze met her own, and for those quick few seconds she witnessed intelligence beyond her belief. More growls and snarls came from behind him. It became clear to her what was going on. The wolf here had done something. Something bad. And the wolf pack were hunting not prey but him. They aimed to kill him. Without knowing why she stepped in front of the wolf and she braced herself, sword held firmly in her hand. Several wolves burst out of the bushes, snarling, growling, ferocious. “Stay back” she screamed, twisting her sword left and right, striking at least three of the canines down. They were up again though. She wasn’t surprised. Again and again she sliced her blade through the air as the pack grew bigger and bigger, until at least twelve wolves stood circling her, switching between their previous prey. “Nrysc!” she shouted angrily, watching as they were all thrown back with her magic, their confident growls reduced to yelps. They had given up. She watched sternly as they marched off, defeated, back the way they had came.
Morgause paused, and then the woman returned to her spot by the fire. She sat cross legged and thought about why she had defended the attacked wolf. Perhaps she had some good in her. But no, she had seen an opportunity. She could have not a dog to hunt for her, but an actual wolf. A loyal companion indeed, almost as good of use to her as Victor. The witch’s careful orbs watched as the injured wolf limped towards her. He knew. He knew what she had done for him. She smiled and tossed him some of the meat. He fell upon it like the wild animal he was, ravenously tearing at the meat with sharp, deadly fangs until he had swallowed it whole. “You were hungry.” she stated. She finished her own share and then tossed the scarps to him, before coming closer. He limped back a little but soon stayed put. “Stay” she said firmly. Morgause fell down beside him and examined his wounds. Nothing too nasty. Claw marks and bites along his rump, fur tossed here and there. This was the body of an Omega. Her soft, womanly hands took the most serious of his injuries, the leg which he was limping on. Fractured, it seemed as she felt it. The wolf was still wary of her, he whimpered and snarled a little as she touched him. But soon he grew used to her. Morgause got a stick and pulled some ribbon from her hair. Gently, she put a makeshift splint on to him. It would do, time would do the rest. The lady smiled and then sat by the fire again, the wolf now sitting beside her of his own accord. A bottle of water was pulled from her dress and she drank steadily. It had been a tiring day.
Tag: Aliyaha!
She was out of her leathers and armour and now into suitable women’s clothing. She was more comfortable in armour actually, she felt more protected and not as vulnerable, but the appearance of a lady always had it’s advantages….she thought of this with a cruel smirk. Morgause tugged her horse, named Victor, and eventually tied him to a strong looking tree. And then smoothly she had collected several sticks and placed them on a pile of dirt. Conjuring a quick spell, she focused on the makings of a fire. “ád.” She stated sternly, voice sounding strange in the word she used. Flames licked the side of the wood and then roared upwards, sparking into a beautifully warm fire. In no time she had also conjured up a little shelter, and now she sat huddled by the fire, rubbing her hands with ferocity. With dusk came both advantages and dis-advantages….the darkness, the cover of night that she could hide in. And then the cold. Fire was her main ally at night time.
Time passed and her gentle lids flickered a little. She soon shot her dark eyes open though when the thought of food came across her. At once she fled to her saddle-bag’s and pulled out a container of fine meat stolen that morning. She pulled out the salted pork and retired back to the fire side again, using sticks to gently cook the meat. When it was done she lifted a few shreds to her mouth and took ravenous bites. But her eating time was disturbed. The sound of howls echoed through the air. Familiar howls, the sound of a wolf pack. And by the sound of it they were hunting… though just what they were hunting was unknown to her. Their rabid growls and snarls grew louder and closer. The lady quickly drew her sword from where it was concealed and struck it forward in protection. A rustling in the bushes and she jumped… Victor grew very uneasy and scraped the upturned turf with his hoof uncertainly. The whites of his eyes showed in terror as suddenly a bedraggled form jumped from the undergrowth. A wolf, though not even half the majestic beast Morgause had been expecting. Clumps of his fur were missing and he bore many wounds, he limped towards her and his amber gaze met her own, and for those quick few seconds she witnessed intelligence beyond her belief. More growls and snarls came from behind him. It became clear to her what was going on. The wolf here had done something. Something bad. And the wolf pack were hunting not prey but him. They aimed to kill him. Without knowing why she stepped in front of the wolf and she braced herself, sword held firmly in her hand. Several wolves burst out of the bushes, snarling, growling, ferocious. “Stay back” she screamed, twisting her sword left and right, striking at least three of the canines down. They were up again though. She wasn’t surprised. Again and again she sliced her blade through the air as the pack grew bigger and bigger, until at least twelve wolves stood circling her, switching between their previous prey. “Nrysc!” she shouted angrily, watching as they were all thrown back with her magic, their confident growls reduced to yelps. They had given up. She watched sternly as they marched off, defeated, back the way they had came.
Morgause paused, and then the woman returned to her spot by the fire. She sat cross legged and thought about why she had defended the attacked wolf. Perhaps she had some good in her. But no, she had seen an opportunity. She could have not a dog to hunt for her, but an actual wolf. A loyal companion indeed, almost as good of use to her as Victor. The witch’s careful orbs watched as the injured wolf limped towards her. He knew. He knew what she had done for him. She smiled and tossed him some of the meat. He fell upon it like the wild animal he was, ravenously tearing at the meat with sharp, deadly fangs until he had swallowed it whole. “You were hungry.” she stated. She finished her own share and then tossed the scarps to him, before coming closer. He limped back a little but soon stayed put. “Stay” she said firmly. Morgause fell down beside him and examined his wounds. Nothing too nasty. Claw marks and bites along his rump, fur tossed here and there. This was the body of an Omega. Her soft, womanly hands took the most serious of his injuries, the leg which he was limping on. Fractured, it seemed as she felt it. The wolf was still wary of her, he whimpered and snarled a little as she touched him. But soon he grew used to her. Morgause got a stick and pulled some ribbon from her hair. Gently, she put a makeshift splint on to him. It would do, time would do the rest. The lady smiled and then sat by the fire again, the wolf now sitting beside her of his own accord. A bottle of water was pulled from her dress and she drank steadily. It had been a tiring day.
Tag: Aliyaha!
