Post by Bassharmony on Jul 15, 2009 20:57:37 GMT -6
Rhys inhaled deeply, letting the scent of late summer penetrate her senses. She grinned, gold eyes sparkling, and broke into a run. Her feet hit the ground in an even rhythm, a staccato beat. Her heart matched it, providing a bassline. Birds flitted though the trees at the edge of her vision, dipping and gliding among the branches. Rhys’s mottled form shot through the trees, dappled sunlight falling in pools here and there along her haphazard path. She splashed though the golden light, mind centering on the movements of her legs, her breathing, the green and crimson of the forest around her. Sometimes it was necessary to just lose yourself to physical exercise and your environment. It freed her mind of its burden’s, a natural high coursing though her body.
A fallen log was in her path, its girth massive. Once it had towered, a giant in its time. Now it lay across the game trail, moss and the sprinkling of wildflowers on its trunk making new life from its demise. Rhys dug her hind feet into the earth, claws giving extra traction, and pushed off, tucking her forelegs under her chest and flying over the fallen giant. She came down running again on the other side. The forest floor rose up to meet her, and her sprint carried her away and into the depths of the forest again in the blink of an eye.
A grin spread across her maw, brought on by the exhilaration of her race, and she leveled her pace out, falling into an even lope. She wasn’t really going anywhere in particular, just enjoying herself for once. Stopping, she looked up at the branches that stretched above her. The leaves here were just beginning to turn to fall’s colours, vibrant emerald greens mixing with yellows and deep russet hues. Sighing she let her paws slow to a walk. The joy of her run ebbed away now – it was always a short-lived experience, and lately she’d had more and more trouble pushing it to the back of her mind.
Ciell’eau was struggling, and somewhere out there a storm was brewing for the packs. Many thought the divines would arrive and strike back at the wolves for disobeying them. She snorted, skeptical the beings even existed. If they did, who said they cared about Istlamyth anymore? In her opinion, they’d forsaken their lands, letting the packs and the very Island itself crumble and decay. Still, she held on to ancient traditions. It was the only way to avoid anarchy she could see, the only way to protect her pack and ensure that it had a future. As long as the laws stood, the pact would stand too, and war could be avoided. If the laws were abandoned, who was to say the pact wouldn’t be, as well? Worry clouded the alphess’s features for a moment. This was the reason she would uphold the spectrum rule, and only allow wolves with the right colours and touches to join her pack. She had nothing against wolves of other spectrums, but her kind, her pack, came first. To ensure their future, she had no choice.
Anger bubbled in her chest toward Capricious, the K’dunvar alphess. That idiot of a wolf was the one who was allowing anyone and everyone to join her pack. She was blind to history, blind to the reason the original Istlamyth pack had been torn. Because of her disrespect for the ancient laws, war threatened to break out for the first time in Istlamyth’s history. Rhys would have preferred to take the fea on herself, one-on-one, and stop this before it went too far. Rumors were spreading that Lux’arumque broke the spectrum law, as well, for a wolf born of their pack who’d been made betess. Rhys didn’t know whether to believe it or not – the Lux pack had always been haughtier than the others, more stringent about laws and proud of their pelts than anyone else – and the fact that they were bending the rules seriously concerned her. If they allied themselves with K’dunvar, she’d have no choice but to ally with Rajati, and if the packs began gathering strength against one another, it was only a matter of time before all-out war.
[/size]