05-14-2021, 08:46 PM
It's my turn to keep the wolves away
Magic danced across her skin, burrowing beneath the maidenly flesh of her girlish figure, sinking into the marrow of her bones that nearly quivered with the thrum of this unfamiliar sensation. She was elated; she was afraid. Never had the young doe felt such... power both raw and untempered. She believed in the strength of the earth, the magic of the wind, the way it whispered across her body through gentle gales. This... this was different and eerily so. It was as if a vine had been tethered to her throat and pulled her, beckoned her to come, come hither and taste the magic on her tongue. "It's the tree of whispers. It's calling." His voice nearly startled her. Shyvnierri rose her head, flicking her ears back towards the buck as he continued. "It has made its appearance in these ranges." The tree of whispers was a myth, a fairytale told to young fawns so that they'd continue their sparring lessons. Get big and strong for the tree, so that it may find thee worthy. But what else, if not that fabled rumour, could it be? She had no reason to doubt the wisdom of this buck so she'd shake her head, attempting to regain some manner of clarity. "Have you seen it before? The tree?" Her soft murmur delved into a world of wonder. Is that how he knew what this sensation was? But try as she might, the doe could not see the entity which caused her to step forward despite the quiet whisper in her mind forbidding the movement. "I think it might be higher up the range." And she was inclined to agree with him. It would be dangerous, surely, but Shyvnierri refused to return to her people empty-hooved. If she couldn't return with the herbs she'd come here for, well, she'd come back stronger at least. She would offer a nod to the buck, a silent pact that she would trust him - even if it was a foolish thing to do - and she would begin the dangerous trek up the mountainside. "Do you live around here?" Curiosity piqued over the curve of her shoulder as she turned to look at the buck, wondering quietly if he'd follow. |
Jahi