Hang me up and out to dry
#1
[html]

Once the sun drew to the zenith of the skies, it was indication to proceed onward. A vagabond who didn't have an accommodation to call their own didn't linger in one setting for too long, not if there was no significance to it. Millstone Village (even though the name of said ruined village was never learned) manifested interest and peculiar things to explore in the time the Italian Luperci was there, especially the encounter with the Jackal who held black eyes like a vortex. The Jackal had not provided information of any use to the Italian, and so investigating whatever else caught his fiery amber eyes, the rogue was on the move once again.


Encountering the shoreline past Millstone Village offered cliffs, to where Ettore loped to the tallest he could find, and from the ledges looked on southward. There was another peninsula of land there, and with obviously no means to cross the waters by sail or boat, it meant hiking by foot up and around to reach the southern lands. It only took him about a day and a half's time before curving down into a somewhat southwestern path. The multitude of tall pines and even taller deciduous trees was a veil from the heavy snowfall of the season, as plowing through ankle high powder and ice lessened to more slippery, slick, and frozen ice pathways. Making exploration a little quicker in pace (not to be too quick with slipping, however), it was the marking point from leaving Drifter Bay and Halcyon Mountains into The Dampwoods.


Trailing alongside a frozen stream, there was a subdivide where the stream deepened into a semi-shallow pool. With the current of water frozen completely over, wiping away the snow that collected on the glass like surface of the pool revealed a window of the world beneath it. Appearing bottomless, Ettore measured the depth of what was observed and figured it could be a paramount spot for some stray fish to linger. With only mild hunger in his stomach, it didn't falter his destination by taking a pitstop in order to attempt to fish out a light meal. Recovering his blade from his belt, the butt of the blade was used to clout a hole in the surface. Then, taking a thin line of fishing line recovered from a scrap yard miles back, there was a portion of dried fruit also retrieved from the bottom of his travel bag that was tied onto the line. It wasn't too much of an innovative tool Ettore was accustomed to like, but in the wilderness on your own, you used what you could salvage. It was what Lorenzo taught him. Lorenzo hadn't been proved wrong yet.


<style type="text/css">
.ettorecol b {font-weight:bold; color:#8C491B; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #0B0401; letter-spacing:.0px; }
.ettorecol-ooc { font-style:italic; padding:15px; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:11px; text-align:center; }
.ettorecol p {text-indent:5px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;}
.ettorecol {margin:0 auto; width:487px; background-color:#1A0601; background-image:url(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v515/ ... orecol.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #0C0502; padding: 275px 0px 10px 0px; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#52321B; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.0px; text-align:justify;}
.ettorecol-line1 {width:447px; border-bottom:1px dotted #502D0F; margin:0 auto 3px auto;}
</style>
[/html]


Messages In This Thread

Forum Jump: