[p] the sun has come to save me

Ezequiel Isoko · 03-03-2012, 08:12 AM

[html]

Unfortunately, awesome as he is, Ezequiel hasn’t mastered the art of teleporting yet D: Mind if this is dated to the 5th or 6th? /+567

Ezequiel had been in a fair few human towns in his frantic dash across the European continent but never in one quite like Amherst - the name had been gleamed from a dilapidated sign that was still justreadable - with it odd collection of intricately designed houses and the larger, square shaped buildings that the humans seemed to use as mass storage it was quite an interesting sight. Ezequiel had seen houses like this once before in London but his visit there had been short and marred with violence, denying him the chance to have a look at the houses.

As was typical for when they encountered a place they intended to stop for a few days Ezequiel and Anita had split up and Anita had established a camp inside a relatively stable human building before setting off to have a look around and familiarise herself with the terrain. Ezequiel had clipped his leather sack to his back and started poking around and on top of the houses, seeing what useful supplies he could scavenge from the ruins. So far it had been pretty poor pickings; some scraps of human fabric suitable for bandages or stuffing and a small bottle of the yellow oil that Ezequiel used on his whetstone being his only prizes.

The houses themselves were much more interesting that what they contained, a unique challenge to climb. On one hand they offered plenty of handholds and crannies, allowing Ezequiel to cut a fair pace as he scrambled up and over them, using his height to easily access the less scavenged upper rooms, but on the other hand they were in terrible condition. Ezequiel had nearly cut his hand open earlier on a piece of rusty broken metal protruding from the top of a house and thrice now he had needed to resort to the rarely needed trick of jamming a knife through whatever he could, thankfully the decay helped him here as the wood yielded easily to a blade, when parts of the roof broke off and slid out from under him.

An odd smelling scent on the wind and a flash of yellow in the distance caused Ezequiel to instantly drop down low on the roof, lips curling back in a silent snarl as his mind raced back to similar coloured jackals, adorned with tattoos and curved swords and baying for his blood. Slowly Ezequiel reached a hand up above his shoulder, feeling the comforting lines carved into the black wood of his staff and sliding upwards across the razor sharp edge of the silvery blade; Ezequiel had sharpened it only this morning and it would serve him well in a fight. Creeping forwards on all fours he peered over the edge of the roof, his hackles lowering at what he saw.

The canine he saw was definitely not a jackal, that was for certain. She was too big for one thing, looking to be his own height or a fraction smaller, either way much too large for a pure blooded jackal. There was also the large beast, a horse he reminded himself, walking alongside her; the jackals chasing him were as inexperienced with the beasts as he was and would be unlikely to have one.

Curiously Ezequiel raised himself upwards for a better look at the figures, though he still remained on all fours and ready to move if he needed to.

Login




Remember me Lost Password?