[p] drag me out of the sea
#1
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Setting Location Form NPCs
Location: Amherst

Date: 15 July* (Backdated)

Weather: Warm, clear

Time: Way early morning
Optime
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(307)


Vasiliy is by me!

Vasiliy normally was not awake quite so late at night, but this night was an exception. He would set sail in the ship today with the rest of his pack and head back down to the southern lands. The dark-furred Russian was sad to go, though they'd only settled into temporary camps for a week. These northlands were strange and vastly different from the forests of the south: this side was all marsh and mountain, while the far camp was situated in untouched forest and strange, hulking coastlines. He could always come back, but it was a longer journey by far on foot or even ahorse.

Because he'd been busily trading, the dusky-furred wolf hadn't that much time to explore and poke around. He'd noticed the small town to the north of their trading camp almost immediately, though there was no time to poke around. He thought he might have passed it on his way down south, but Vasi wasn't sure, and he wouldn't know how to read a map and find out anyway. Meandering through the dark streets with a torch held in one hand, the dusky-furred wolf felt rather silly -- he wasn't even sure what he was looking for, and he'd have to leave the torch or put it out and relight it if he wanted to explore inside anywhere. There was too much of a fire risk otherwise.

He might have left the torch entirely, but something about human ruins at night sat wrong in Vasiliy's belly. He appreciated the extra light and had nearly persuaded Draw to accompany him. In the end, though, Draw had declined and left Vasi to wander alone -- and the granite-furred wolf was not the type to allow childish fright to interfere with fun and exploration.

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#2
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375 :: Yay, a Sie thradz! Big Grin

Despite Lilin's words of warning, Marika had decided to stay in the deserted human town for the night. She had picked a spot up against one of the old buildings so as to not be completely out in the open. Going inside might have provided a bit more safety, but she wanted to keep close to Faina and the mare would not fit through the doors. The Russian had taken one of the blankets out of the saddlebags and wrapped it around herself, not for want of warmth but comfort. This abandoned place had given her an ill feel from the start, and hearing that there had been attacks here only increased that anxiety. After the Vanner horse had settled onto the ground, Marika had rested up against her warm side. Beneath the blanket wrapped about her lithe form, her hand held grip on a small knife—just in case. Mismatched eyes closed as she drifted into a shallow sleep, wishing for the security of a caravan around her.


Whatever dreams came to the Russo that night were fitful and fragmented, and for the most part unpleasant. Images of her private hell with Milosh, the turmoil back in Sobirat'sya which had caused her to leave the family home again, and the unclear future that spread out before her like a fog. Perhaps she should have gone back to see if things had calmed down back in Sobirat'sya instead of fleeing here. Why had she chosen here over where her family was? It may not have been the most cheerful place in the world, but people knew and loved her there. But she had come here, where there was no family and no friends. What was she going to do now?


Sounds of movement nearby caused the woman to start from her sleep. One hand clutched the blanket closer while the other became white-knuckled on the handle of her blade. She stood on legs that shook with nervous tremors. The Russo knew she was easy prey, with how small she was; the knife wouldn't help her much if someone really wanted to get at her. Vho is zhere? She did her best to keep her voice steady and strong while internally she trembled like a doe.

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#3
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(--) <3!


Vasiliy is by Raze!

It was just occurring to Vasiliy that he'd have to wait until daybreak to go exploring in any of the houses anyway, unless he wanted to stumble around in the dark. He ought to have brought more than one torch, too. His lack of foresight was depressing, and the dusky-furred wolf was considering wheeling around and heading back to the camp. He'd have to travel all the way up here some other time -- he could not hope to pilot the boat himself, and he dared not pester his fellow packmates to work so hard for such a petty reason.

His thoughts were so consuming, he nearly leapt out of his skin when a voice called out. The torch flew out of his hand and clattered to the floor. It rolled a few feet away, and his circle of light revealed a pair of feet and legs, the dim outline of the rest of a vaguely female shape just visible. The dusky hybrid held up both hands in a gesture of peace. He swallowed noisily and then shakily breathed out his fear. Sorry, he said, voice laden with its accent. He hadn't recognized the similar sound to her own voice with his fright. No harm. Sorry if I scare you, he repeated, thinking he might apologize twice. He was the one being creepy and wandering around at night, after all.

He realized, rather suddenly, that he knew her scent -- but from where? He had been many places and seen many things, and he'd met many Luperci in his travels. It took him a long moment, squinting toward her figure.

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