J'adore had snuck away from his pack and onto the Des Rêveurs. It was a grand ship, loosing face on the outside. But oh the treasures inside. The Spaniard was seated in the ship bar, it was well stocked with alcohol and was where J'adore found most of his bottles. He sat drinking from a champange bottle, it was half empty now. Placing it on the table he stood and made his way over to a cabinet, behind the bar. As he opened the door, with a creak, he found a small supply of Khat. I was a bad thing for him to be chewing, it could cause endless pshycological problems. But in the end it was only a small amount, and it wasn't often. He locked his guilty pleasures away again, this time remembering to padlock the door. He stood up and returned to his seat. He pulled his bag closer and removed a book from it, entitled 'Medicinal Herbs'. He had picked this up in Halifax and decided it would be useful to know how to relieve pain. His wounds from Alaki had sealed well and were on the mend, but if he moved in the wrong way, the skin would twist and cause him a slight stab of pain. He reclined in his seat and smiled, this was his place to relax.

Quote:OoC: WotD 1 Pt. Attempt: "Thimblerig"

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من
جميع الأشياء الغبية لا بد لي من خلال الذهاب من أجل الخروج من البر الرئيسى لعنة....
(Of all the stupid things I have to go through in order to get off the damn mainland....)

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Cheval Island: a crescent-shaped, sandy little fleck of isolation filled with horses. The perfect place to be utterly alone. Running through the Dans l'Obscurité, Rewdeynetya had learned that there were many wolves on the mainland. Her hopes that the seaside would lack in canines bore nothing, and now, there was only bitter disappointment. She hated packs, hated having to swerve around their territories to avoid confrontation. It felt like a thimblerig to her.

To get out of Nova Scotia proper, she needed a boat. A good, sturdy boat, not like the smashed and rusted carcasses of before that had washed up. She had tried all the locks on the nearby boat sheds, and those that were unlocked reeked of unfamiliar canines. Rewdeynetya was not going to risk confronting an angry boat owner in her new sanctuary, so she needed to find one somewhere else.

Her journey led her to a great, enormous ship, so vast it could be a pack's territory unto itself. Yet, it was perfectly neutral ground, full of supplies and with rowboats dangling from the top deck. The jackal-wolf had immediately found a way in via the old gangplank, crawling up floor after floor, sometimes literally. Without Man to take care of it, the boat was quickly falling apart from being battered around.

As the snow fell gently outside, Rewdeynetya froze when she smelt another wolf. Just one wolf...and it was fresh. Granted, smells of other canines were all over the place, but there was neither rhyme or reason to their age. She plodded upwards, looking left and right, before hearing the rustling of something. Her ears turned, and she warily approached an open door.

What had once been a luxurious bar was now covered in dust, cobwebs and debris from smashed windows. Cold winds blew where there was no longer glass, but a quick glance to the back showed that the bar was relatively protected. And who would be sitting there but a gold-ish wolf, blessed enough to be literate and have a book to read? The loner's eyes narrowed.

Slowly, carefully, Rewdeynetya walked backwards, hoping to make barely a sound.

J'adore saw the stranger approach, saw them backing away. His eyes stayed down and he mumbled 'Sit, please'. He gestured to the seat opposite him, he was sitting in a booth. The Spaniard closed the book and flicked his milky eyes to the newcomer, 'J'adore Austral' he stated. He didn't mind a newcomer, but he felt that the girl was looking for some alone time. A breeze whipped through the broken windows, spinning several spider webs allow the way. 'I'm not going to bite...' he added with a smile, 'Care for a drink?' He had loads of drink in the bar, vodka, wines, ales, ciders, chapangnes, cocktails and J'adore's stash of Absinthes, which of course he wouldn't reveal. 'Or there's, some Khat in the cupboard' he added throwing up the keys and catching them, over and over. He didn't mind sharing his drugs, he shouldn't really have been taking it, but he didn't usually dip into his stash, even if he was venturing to the ship. It was usually for drink anyhow. He had taken to keeping his alcohol on the boat, in a locked cupboard. He would have pup(s) running around soon and if Valinta decided to raise the in AniWaya, it would be a bad idea to keep children and alcohol in the same house...

Quote:OoC: Sorry for the delay.
WotD 1 Pt. Attempt: "Abscond"

The sins of life, tempting with pleasure and sweet, induced feelings. For a mind that had to remain sharp, eyes that had to remain vigilant, she couldn't risk becoming influenced. As friendly as the wolf seemed, Rewdeynetya didn't want to be caught in a bad situation while her senses were dulled. She'd leave his earthly pleasures be, but maybe she could find something useful if he indulged in enough alcohol and substance.

Leaving her attempts to abscond for later, Rewdeynetya approached, if not carefully. "It seems...well-stocked," she said carefully, her amber eyes flickering left and right. "Man certainly enjoyed his alcohol." It was strange, how much wolfkind understood of their precursors and their artifacts; the virus made their brains swell with such potential. The canines of the world were learning quickly from their transforming brethren, the common European wolf understanding more about naval travel than even the magpie. And the corvids had gained incredible intelligence beforehand, close to the humans themselves in how much they knew!

"I'll pick something in a minute," said the jackal-wolf, looking carefully along the counter. She examined it out of curiosity, just out of courtesy. She didn't want to see too picky in front of the wolf.

'Sit' he said, his order sounded a little more demanding than he'd wanted it to be. He tidied it up with a light smile and repeated, softer,'Please, sit'. He beckoned to the other side of the stall, to the long sofa type seat. He turned back to his drink and took another deep swig from it. He nodded again, 'Tis very well stocked, there’s twice this in the cargo hold'. He had found this out when he took time out to explore. His curiosity couldn't be tamed and he asked the silent girl, 'Where you from?' He liked knowing where people we're from. Valinta was Russian, he himself was a small collection of nations, however if we we're judging birth place. He was Spanish. He glanced over to the mirror at the other side of the bar. The face was cracked but he could still see his doppelganger perfectly. His ears flicked to the sound of the lapping waves and a tired creak, ’Don’t worry, just the boat wiggling...’. He didn’t know if the female would spook, but it would show he meant well and wasn’t planning on any wrong doing. He was simply being hospitable, even though he didn’t own the ship.