put your hands into the fire.

Jefferson Soul · 11-06-2010, 04:07 PM

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Non-mandatory pack thread! Get your silly butts in here and get some posting done! Posting order goes accordingly and repeats after I post again! Current joiners are already accepted OOCly, so feel free to post here as well. ^^

He hated cold weather. To be precise, Jefferson did not just hate the cold—he abhorred with with each and every fiber of his sinner's body. At its worst, winter weather handicapped the one-eyed gimp more than he was already affected; the rains of the summer brought aches to his joints, but the chill of winter air brought full-out pain and misery whether he moved or not. The brute knew his behavior in the winter months: Jefferson avoided emerging from the ranch house when it was not necessary or he did not have duties to work with. Once he made quick, two-legged rounds around the borders for the sake of speed and cared for the animals in the barn, the idiot wasted no time hastening back to the ranch house, starting a fire in the hearth, and struggling through a book he barely knew how to read.

He had no intention of making this winter any different, really, but as the snow had not yet fallen and the weather still vaguely resembled autumn, Jefferson was not yet a shut-in. He supposed, of course, that he could move his cozy hearth inside the ranch to the outdoors for a night before the cold set in for the winter. Under the mask of night, with little notice to Geneva or Pripyat—who both eyed him strangely when he rushed, grinning, from the ranch rather suddenly upon acting on the idea—he moved to the edge of the northern Mirror Lake. Carrying firewood from behind the ranch to a randomly-selected spot at the lake's edge, the cyclops next started a fire and eased it on until its flames licked at the sky and plumes of clouds grayed the navy of the sky and coated the stars.

Jefferson smirked, cleared his throat, and raised his nose to the sky. The howl he released was hardly urgent but inviting almost to the point where his members' presence was a demand. There is nothing to celebrate, his call sounded in its reverberations, except a great fire on a cold night in November.

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