She's habitually paradoxical, a parallel perpendicular;
A sound like a cry of pain rang through the forest, it was a small sound but to her, it cuts through the background noise as if it were a resonating gunshot. It tickles the sensitive inner canal of her pointed ears, the fae woman lost within the forest amongst the giant deep green pines and foliage. The woodland creatures were sure chatty today, however, she had her own mission, even despite coming prepared with a wide array of vegetables and fruit within her backpack. Always willing to share what she had with the creatures. She had already created quite the following, a squirrel and chipmunk tailing closely behind their little noses twitching, peering with dark expectant eyes, their tails dancing like a chaotic spaz. She almost caved too. But only after shifting a rock that Mr. Crow had stashed her a gift. She picked up a ring, caked with dirt and dried mud. A ring that had been long lost, she ran her gentle fingers upon it examining, appreciating. It had a beautiful sapphire glinting at her, even amidst the dirt and the canopy overhead shielding most of the sun it was stunning. She was quite pleased with herself, knowing that precious stone would suit her collection nicely. She had shades of all types of blue, but not this one. She hmmed softly to herself a pleased sound. That distant squeak once more she could hardly help that way in which her head tilted. She couldn't ignore its call. It was the call of an animal in distress. "Sorry." an apologetic word muttered to her newfound forest friends she would have to shun. She took off without a second glance deeper into the woods with steady haste, wishing she were barefoot, so she could feel the energies within the ground, feel them speak to her like ancient spirits long before her time. Guiding her.
There was one thing the silver-eyed young fae was unable to do was to ignore an animal's cry for help. She hoped she got there in time, hoped her feet were true as she runs full tilt like a gazelle, leaping over logs, dodging through trees, ducking beneath the low hanging branches. Her raven, Mr. Crow, must have been around here, somewhere, he was never far always watching protectively from the highest peak, always aware. He was like a protector of the woods, an overseer. However, oddly enough she couldn't see him anywhere, couldn't see his glittering obsidian form fly overhead. Maybe he finally took her advice and flirt with some of the crows, even when she highly doubted it.
One slender hand clung to the straps of her backpack, hoping not to lose any of contents while she ran with that whispering wind, her fingers still wrapped tightly around that sapphire ring she had. She would not drop it. She drew in that rich forest smell, sharp pine scent dominant and welcoming along with other intermingling scents of the forest. "Stay strong.." She whispered into that warm breeze while she ran, as though that little creature could hear her and how unlikely it was.
She hardly looked like a creature that should be running, wearing a loose-fitting, pale, flimsy sundress, but she hardly cared. Her white-golden hair whips around her in every which way, her pointed ears exposed while she ran. That was when she heard it, the sound of that very creature she had sworn to help made its very last devastating cry before something took it down. She didn't know what it was, but it was too late, her pace slowed, drawing forth air to fill her welcoming lungs. She moved her way through the woods to come across that clearing, the ground coated with yellowing shed pine needles and cones. She hid amongst the tree trunks, her footfalls as light as she could make them as she trapezed toward the predator with its prey, wrinkling her nose at the sight of blood. Something akin to sadness floods within her. If only the woman ran a little faster, if only she responded on that first sound of distress. A soft huff as a sigh escaped her even though she regained her breath from that feverish sprint.
She proceeded without caution even if she knew very well that the carnivore could quite possibly be irritable with its prey, her fingertips caressing the rough bark of the nearest tree before it was painfully open. "Couldn't you go after something that had a chance at escaping.." She chides, speaking to the animal as if it was entirely normal. To her it was. Her silvery eyes full of disapproval and a hint of sadness knowing she could have probably helped the tawny rabbit. She took in the gory sight, liquid, luminescent silvery eyes widen. Blood, she hated the sight of it. It was the way of nature, the way of life, but she just couldn't help it. She clicked her tongue, her pale locks in a tousled disarray, wild and windswept as she was, the points of her ears poking through. Iliana was always so cautious to keep them hidden from the world, but in the forest, she could just be whatever she was besides being an insult to the fae and unaccepted by the human world.
"Here, try to eat a carrot, it won't kill you." The strange woman gracefully like a feather gently descending slowly to her knees only about 6 ft away, clearly completely oblivious to the fact that he was a predator who could use those bloody teeth on her, even with food sating his hungry maw. His lips were coated crimson. She wondered how carnivores survived without a napkin, a frown finding her features for but a glimpse of a moment. He looked quite unique for anything that dwells these woods, his slender and lanky form, far too different from that of a coyote or wolf. Her expression thoughtful while she rummages through her bag, after placing it upon the ground before her, not caring if it got dirty, the bag was well worn, to begin with. The blonde fae carefully placed that ring she was holding safely at the bottom amongst her other stones and knickknacks. But a mere moment later, when her hand wrapped around that cool, succulent carrot a demure smile sprouts across her lips. A sincere look of aha finding her features. She pulls it out of the bag trying to avoid her gaze looking upon her shredded rabbit corpse, or at least whatever was left. She reaches out that carrot toward the oddly proportioned canine, her gaze flickering from the carrot and to the wild dog curiously and perhaps a little grossed out at what he had done.
barefoot in nightgowns, that's how she dances in the rain;