son, you got strychnine in your blood

Ithiel de le Poer · 02-23-2012, 03:15 PM

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Form	Info Date: 25 February Time: Late afternoon Words: 422

Miramichi Valley

One other, por favor. I guess two is okay? ._. /shrug

Ithiel is by me!

Ithiel frequently scouted outside of Inferni to various areas of the lands, seeking whatever there was to be sought. His horse, the strawberry roan named Bairre, was not lathered in the least, as he'd kept a steady and rather slow pace the whole way out here. Zedekiah soared somewhere ahead of him, and Ithiel craned his neck skyward, finding no sign of the bird to his dismay. The dust-colored man ridden for several hours, looping around the sprawling town and avoiding the new pack that had sprung up to the north of the mountains.

Little outside his new homeland concerned him. The wolf packs were fine as long as they kept to their own, as far as Ithiel was concerned. So far as Ithiel knew, Inferni was the only coyote clan of these lands. He knew nothing of Inferni's heavily coyote closest neighbor, of course, and merely assumed the remainder of the packs consisted entirely of wolves, and perhaps the odd coyote hybrid, as Terra had been. They were therefore of no concern to him until (unless, he supposed, but in Ithiel's mind, it was a certainty rather than possibility) they made trouble for Inferni.

There was a mountain to the north of him, and a lake to the north and east. He had passed between them, seeing the mountain and smelling the scent of the lake, but paid no mind to either landform, instead continuing on to the valley. He thought he might travel the rest of the day and stop for a night. The next day, hooking back toward the shore and following it home seemed his best and fastest way. He had been through these lands but once before, on his way to Inferni. Familiarity with all the nearby lands was to be desired, and a scout's knowledge need not end with his clan's borders.

There were many small streams and brooks coursing through this shallow valley, most of them sluggish enough to freeze with winter. Only a thin crust of snow remained, however, as the winter had been blessedly mild thus far. Nevertheless, Ithiel had seen more snow on this side of the bay -- perhaps it was colder here? The dusky coyote hunkered down, ears flattening with thoughts of cold. He was built and bred for the desert, and as cold as desert nights got, they rarely saw snow. Still, Ithiel was not one to complain -- he bore this as he did any other hardship in life: silently and utterly without complaint.

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