Post by Bigeshu on Jan 8, 2009 23:46:43 GMT -5
She did not move.
Even as the Earthmother's eye descended over the horizon casting shadows twice her height upon the grass before her. Even as her ears twitched and strained to catch some mention of the discussion inside the great tent of Bloodhoof. Even as her palms ached from the steady fist she kept since this morning. Even, when the slow shuffling approached her, as the barker cried for the next issue to be brought forward.
She still did not move.
"This one thanks you for your help."
The male's voice wias cool and calm, filled with unmistakable regret, and that angered Chayenne even further. It was that same tone, that same way of speaking that made her agree to this in the first place. It was that same voice that aroused pity in her, despite...
She rose to her feet, whirled around and lobbed a punch at the warrior's face. It sent him sprawling back a meager inch. The male pressed the back of his hand against the wound, but neither made move to respond nor to complain. He just accepted it.
"You lied to me!"
He sighed.
"You lied to me! How dare you lie to me!"
He sighed again, then interrupted her by staring into the Druid's young eyes. There was no hate in those pools, no gloating, and none of the pride of his namesake. She could only read regret and pain.
"This warrior is sorry, but he could not restore his tribe's honor by joining the Whitehorn."
She sneered and spat between his hooves.
"That cannot excuse...!" She started to swear in Orcish, a language she found unbearably plain and vulgar. It fit her newly restored opinion of him and his 'tribe'.
He bowed his head in consent.
"This warrior will bring honor to the Proudheart, in service to the Edge of..."
The Tauress stamped her foot down hard, shattering the peace of the afternoon and killing a prairie dog who had the misfortune of burrowing beneath them.
"The Proudheart died without honor, and you raise it without honor. You are fighting for nothing." She paused waiting for him to react and noticed that his fingers twitched, she continued.
"Your tribe is nothing, will be nothing, I swear I'll make it so!"
He sighed again. "How? By telling the tribes that this one had lied? Do so, and they'll likely cast a baleful eye towards you. After you spoke so well on this warrior's behalf, they agreed to restore the tribe's name. Tell, and they'll likely take his name away, but yours will be so much dust. Forgive this warrior and trust that he'll find a way to honor your family."
She hissed, but knew that he was likely right. She vouched for him, the last daughter of a Whitehorn herd, the only decimated family of the war between their tribes. Her mercy and swallowed pride gave him a chance, and if she worked against that, there's no telling what would be believed. After all, she realized bitterly, he was against the Proudheart-Whitehorn war and had been made a Horse for his failure. She frowned.
"This isn't over Veirik. Know my name; Know the name Chayenne of the Whitehorn. I will not kill you with respect to my words and the friend I thought you were. But you will never know happiness, even if the Proudheart is reborn. Now get..."
Veirik turned away, and walked towards the inn to rest before the day's hunt, leaving Chayenne alone, a lone shadow creeping up towards her mind and the knife at her waist...
((Introducing my two tauren))
Even as the Earthmother's eye descended over the horizon casting shadows twice her height upon the grass before her. Even as her ears twitched and strained to catch some mention of the discussion inside the great tent of Bloodhoof. Even as her palms ached from the steady fist she kept since this morning. Even, when the slow shuffling approached her, as the barker cried for the next issue to be brought forward.
She still did not move.
"This one thanks you for your help."
The male's voice wias cool and calm, filled with unmistakable regret, and that angered Chayenne even further. It was that same tone, that same way of speaking that made her agree to this in the first place. It was that same voice that aroused pity in her, despite...
She rose to her feet, whirled around and lobbed a punch at the warrior's face. It sent him sprawling back a meager inch. The male pressed the back of his hand against the wound, but neither made move to respond nor to complain. He just accepted it.
"You lied to me!"
He sighed.
"You lied to me! How dare you lie to me!"
He sighed again, then interrupted her by staring into the Druid's young eyes. There was no hate in those pools, no gloating, and none of the pride of his namesake. She could only read regret and pain.
"This warrior is sorry, but he could not restore his tribe's honor by joining the Whitehorn."
She sneered and spat between his hooves.
"That cannot excuse...!" She started to swear in Orcish, a language she found unbearably plain and vulgar. It fit her newly restored opinion of him and his 'tribe'.
He bowed his head in consent.
"This warrior will bring honor to the Proudheart, in service to the Edge of..."
The Tauress stamped her foot down hard, shattering the peace of the afternoon and killing a prairie dog who had the misfortune of burrowing beneath them.
"The Proudheart died without honor, and you raise it without honor. You are fighting for nothing." She paused waiting for him to react and noticed that his fingers twitched, she continued.
"Your tribe is nothing, will be nothing, I swear I'll make it so!"
He sighed again. "How? By telling the tribes that this one had lied? Do so, and they'll likely cast a baleful eye towards you. After you spoke so well on this warrior's behalf, they agreed to restore the tribe's name. Tell, and they'll likely take his name away, but yours will be so much dust. Forgive this warrior and trust that he'll find a way to honor your family."
She hissed, but knew that he was likely right. She vouched for him, the last daughter of a Whitehorn herd, the only decimated family of the war between their tribes. Her mercy and swallowed pride gave him a chance, and if she worked against that, there's no telling what would be believed. After all, she realized bitterly, he was against the Proudheart-Whitehorn war and had been made a Horse for his failure. She frowned.
"This isn't over Veirik. Know my name; Know the name Chayenne of the Whitehorn. I will not kill you with respect to my words and the friend I thought you were. But you will never know happiness, even if the Proudheart is reborn. Now get..."
Veirik turned away, and walked towards the inn to rest before the day's hunt, leaving Chayenne alone, a lone shadow creeping up towards her mind and the knife at her waist...
((Introducing my two tauren))