Turbulence : Ysabeaux
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Age: Wolf: 21 :: BPS: 33Species: Canus
Gender: MaleSpiritual Rank: Liason
Posts: 66 Stones: 1,187.25❂ Played by: Lashes
He Spoke to Me in Madness and I understood His Reason
#1

the nexus of sensation


I flex restless muscles.  A smile holds upon my face, I cannot wash it away.  I cannot see these digits that I possess, but the thrill of their possibility and power enthralls me. I stare towards balled fists, as if my imagination would be enough to visualize these fantastic proportions. My thoughts scatter like bats, prospects and pathways bouncing off my skull. 

I needed more opportunity than I was capable of providing on my own. The skills of this man flesh was foreign and obtuse, demanding an entire rearrangement of my mental facilities.  Praise Eshteth my senses remained potent in either skin. My kinetics were far more exposed without my pelt, and I did not enjoy the weight of dead flesh preventing information from contact.  Fingers traced a forearm.  I could only push myself so far before it became glaringly insufficient.

The man stood. Bare feet pressed into giving sand.  He was enclosed in a massive sand garden, boulders decorating the rim with odd angles.  A ring of sorts, in an enclave on the beach.  Waves were the metronome for his motions.  Weeks passed spent in this Zen garden. Here, he came to understand his new skin, reminding his nervous system the meaning of these sensations.  

Jackal grinned and ran his palms over scarred thighs.  Energy tapped into the strand of Ysabeaux attached to his mind.  Since their last journey a link had developed. He could not track her motions, but knew if he pressed enough he could catch her attention.  Now, he applied such pressure.  Telepathy would not transfer, but a single image would be enough for her avid mind to follow.  An image of his circular space, and the crackling energy of two bodies clashing in friendly competition.


Jackal * Thoughts * Ysabeaux



@Ysabeaux

Ooc:: was way longer a wait than I meant, I'm sorry. Anyway, friendly spar!

Jackal possesses the Unicorn's Tear. He is able to heal any wound but his own.
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Age: IV Wolf | XXV BipedSpecies: Canine
Gender: FemaleSpiritual Rank: Conceiver
Posts: 23 Stones: 146❂ Played by: Ally
Travel I, in dreams, when the material world should weigh me down I fly, unburdened by the suffocating chains of reality.
#2



Sweetgrass that reached the height of her human knees, even in the budding transition to the dry season, made delicate shushing sounds against her skin as Yseabeaux traversed the steppes. She let her hand drift alongside, sifting through the tufted tops of the grasses; a thin, white scar decorated the pad of her index finger and clashed with her sun-bronzed skin. The stirring of pollen and detritus from her passing made her wrinkle her nose and pause. Her sense of smell was not so acute in this two-legged form, but still enough to enrich her experience of the world. Dusty earth beneath her bare feet, the mild herbal scent of the grasses, the faint musk of small rodents scurrying away from predatory grace, all these things meshed with the brilliant blue of mid-morning sky, the experimental chirps and clacks and buzzing of the world coming alive and the feel of the sun’s rays chasing away the lingering chill of the night.

Clearing the dusty scent from her nose with a chuff of air that was distinctly more wolf than human, she had no sooner shifted her muscles to resume her wanderings when a tug of energy nearly made her stumble. It was not on the physical plane but insistent enough that she felt it as surely as a thread through her solar plexus, tightening and demanding. Yseabeaux closed her dual-natured eyes as she inhaled, and an image flashed against her closed lids. A ring of stones. Tawny sand. And a tangle of indigo at the end of that peremptory thread. Jackal.

A smile tugged up one corner of her lips. The spark of energy that he sent through that ethereal connection sent lightning through her veins and her fingers curled at her sides. The rudimentary garment of fur and hide she had stitched together with sinew and a bone needle to protect her most vulnerable flesh in this form did not impede her movement. True, she would be faster on four paws, but, like Jackal, she was seeking to renew her relationship with her human shape and unlock its true potential. Her knees bent, muscles tensing, and she broke into a run.

A light sheen of sweat gleamed against her skin when she rounded the edge of the enclave. Ysabeaux slowed, her muscles pleasantly warm, breaths even and deep as she approached the ring. The shock of indigo dreads was out of place amidst the muted tones of sand and rock, the human shape stretched tall and thin, musculature lean and wiry, all decorated with the criss-crossing of so many scars. Without preamble the woman crossed the barrier of stones, a little shiver of power splashing over her as if she disturbed a warding. This place was a personal one, used many times. Her scarlet and green gaze traced the circle again. She raised a brow, her alto mocking. “You called?”





@Jackal

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