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WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised. |
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Date: Liquid timed, no specific date.Setting: Bridgetown Port, Barbados. Time: Early afternoon. Character Form: Optime. |
ooc: Test-driving Drakien Lusk.:: Word Count→ 505
Long had it been since the ground beneath his feet didn't rock and sway with the waves of the sea. Drakien found he had a hard time getting his 'land legs' back, his body still expecting the earth to pitch and roll whenever the sound of waves reached his ears. He supposed he'd get used to it again, though, considering he had only one more short journey to make by sea before he'd be land-locked for good. And that journey wasn't even by sea; it was only up a canal, really, to the port in some place called New Orleans. Drakien wondered if that place would be as strange and bustling as this one was.
The wolf received many an odd look from the locals, as they seemed mostly to be dogs or dog hybrids. He supposed the looks weren't due to his heritage, though; more so the odd collection of trinkets and nick-knacks he'd collected on his journey to the New World. He supposed they might find it odd to see a wolf, already thickly furred against the cold, wearing a heavy, colorfully dyed fur cloak and fur-lined moccasins. The ram skull adorning his head might have had something to do with it, too.
While passing through most of the major trade cities in Europe, as well as several minor stops along the way, Drakien couldn't help but become more culturally aware. The small group of people throughout most of Northern Europe who donned these skulls had made a big impact on him, particularly one Cai Blom, who'd gifted him the ram he now wore. The symbolism was still lost on him, as they had spoken only a few words of the same language and his grasp on it wasn't the best, but he thought of Cai now as a sort of brother, and the fact that he'd been acknowledged in such a way meant more to him than he could put into words.
Drakien chose to ignore the strange looks his gifts received, instead making his way through the docks into the city proper. He had only two bags with him, carrying all his worldly possessions--a number of which he'd gained only over the last few months, as he journeyed from Moscow to this place. The large male kept a close eye on his belongings, his hands drifting every now and then to check the loose pockets and make sure the flaps remained closed. He wasn't too worried about anyone trying to rob him; everyone seemed to skirt their way around him as he approached, pulling each other out of his way. He could admit to himself that the brightly colored cloak, combined with the ram skull and the moccasins--the only piece of clothing that was his originally--made for a strange sight, but he didn't think he was frightening.
Then again, he mused as a pup too young to shift dashed out of his path with a little yelp, it was nice to have his own space.[/html]