familiar haunts
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Word Count :: 395 Welcome to any and all.

The boat journey had been enjoyable, the sun shone in the mid-afternoon and clouds assured those below that they were just hanging out, no need to duck and cover. Thorn Russo, of the clan Sobirat'sya had returned to his homeland and after tidying up his affairs, watched as his adult children went off on their own journeys. He was beginning to show his age here and there. He was a little more comfortable in his lupus form, a form that showed his salt and pepper tail didn't need any ink to pepper it. He still thrived in his Optime form though, as he currently stood, tall and proud on long bipedal legs."Honey, I am home."

Thorn carefully moved the boat toward dry land. The old wooden boat had made the journey slow and steady, the best craftsmen back home had insisted on fixing up his previous craft into something more 'pirate worthy.' A small smile appeared even now with the thought, his need to pillage had long since died out with his first still-born daughter but the care-free, love the world attitude was still there, pounding in his chest.


Stepping out of the boat he reached back to tether it as best he could near the aging docks with thick rope he pulled from beneath the seat in the boat. He wondered if anyone took the time to repair them, and to fix the damage mother nature could cause. Thorn straightened his kilt, brushed off his tail and then after taking his weathered hat in hand he gave a rather canine shake to free the drops of sea water clinging to his face. Hat on head, swig of his hip flask he started to walk past the docks and then towards the quiet city that had once bustled and thrived. He had caught a scent, an old and unreliable scent that reminded him of younger brother Rurik. He was no longer here, Thorn was no fool, but he thought investigating wherever his brother had been might lead him to where he was after that. Maybe even lead him to him, although Thorn thought rather dismally, he doubted he was still here.


Hoping what he saw in the distance was a building, he started to walk. His green eyes scanned before him for anything that might be interesting, shiny, mouldable. He always had room for a new treasure.

Photo courtesy of epSos.de

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