[AW+] maybe i knew
#1
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”Where d’you think you’re going?”

Symre had been in the stables then, gently currying a horse’s fur with a brush that had been left behind. The sound of the Irishmans voice had made her ears stiffen, and she had growled at him softly even then. ”What do you want.”

”Well it looks like you’re about to go on some sort’f mission. I think your Uncle would be upset if y’went out on your own.” He whistled and one of the horses stuck its head out of the stable, a heavy looking animal with a greying face and a gentle expression. Torin went to Cruach and patted the animals forehead with a murr, glancing at Symre with a grin too big for his face.

She was frowning, gazing determinedly toward the horse as she prepared its tack.

”Y’know if y’say nothing I’ll just follow you.”

Symre ground her teeth and thought of Valerian – of the scout who had brandished his knife at her and the way she had uselessly defended him against the wolverine.

”Fine.”

And so it was that somehow together they had ambled off together – the girl astride the borrowed horse and the man padding eagerly alongside his mount.

Each time he tried to speak she would hold up her hand to silence him. Celeris was a hardy little mare and sometimes she too glared at the big-boned stallion that trailed along beside them. The Raskdottir wasn’t sure what her intention had been in wandering – but now with Torin there she couldn’t tell him that she had been wanting to find more birds for her craft.

The horses ambled along silently, and only once Symre kicked her heels into the horse’s sides in an effort to loose Torin – but like a bad cold he always ended up finding her, that stupid smile splattered across his face.

”So, where are we going?”

Symre had been about to open her mouth when instead they both realized that a border had sprung up before them, a searing line that divided the territory. Celeris snorted and tossed her head and Symre dropped from the horses back to calm her, stroking the pale velveteen of her nose as Torin paced thoughtfully to and fro.

”Well, what is it?” Symre snapped, whipping her wolfish tail behind her as Torin bent to inhale sharply at the dry grass. ”This wasn’t here before. I swear it.”

Symre rolled her eyes, ”A pack wouldn’t just show up out of nowhere-“

Torin rose and wet his mouth, ”That’s exactly what I’m sayin’.”






They're not like *in* the territory but they are close - I am open to any sort of interaction!


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᛫ ᚻᛖᛞᛄ ᛫ ᚹᛁᛏᚳ᛫
#2
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my heart was flawed, i knew my weakness

No new threats had yet raised their ugly heads to question the coyote masses that had taken this northern stretch of land, and without cause to believe otherwise, they had established themselves, united, under rule, under name - Del Cenere Gang had sprung up, and everyone was pulling their part to bring it to fruition. Familiar faces. Strangers - all brought into a fold.

But these scents were not of their new family, this Community. Briarblack had caught onto it first, a shadow amidst the pine, and Nazario merely caught the glimpse of her speckled hackles raising. They were unarmed, but not unwilling, as they doubled back on their ill-defined trail, to intercept the strangers' scents that were straying too close for comfort.

The medic hung back, when they dithered into sight through the grasses, the speckling of gold sunlight through the canopy.

"Ya look lost," Nazario called out from his position, far enough back, though there was edge to his words. The girl looked familiar, but he could place neither the name, nor her face. Her friend came with even less certainty. Briarblack, with the rigid line of black lining her spine, stared on, her ears high on her head as she stifled the alarmed whuff from her lips.

"Somethin' we can help you find? Perhaps yer way back home?"

"Unless you've come to trade," the medic finally interjected, stiffly, her suspicion evident.

--| [wc — 000] template by hilli
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#3
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All things truly wicked start from Innocence




The Gang was still freshly new, and it would take some time for them to start building up their lives together under one banner. Much of the threat from the wolves seemed to have been dealt with, but that didn't mean there weren't other things that needed to be taken care of. There had been some assistance in taking care of the horses, the items they all had, as well as taking care of their new homes and borders.

It would probably be some time before all of them were adjusted to this new life, but once they were, they would be just as strong as ever. None of them were going to be caught off guard again like they had been with these instigators. No one would have to die in the same way that Calhoun had.

The gray coyote found herself wandering towards the borders, having been a place she had neglected a bit as of late. With the idea of there being new homes, she and Boone would be able to find a new place to room together. Since the burning down of their tent, she had found herself sheltered with her older sister. Now that things were normalizing, she was sure the older sibling would want her space back, and it would be good for her to have her own new space as well.

She paused as she drew nearer, noticing that Nazarion and Briarblack were here as well. There had to be something going on from the way that the darker woman had been keeping herself a bit back, even though both of the had some distance from the borders.

Stalking closer, she uttered a small noise to get the woman's attention, letting her know she was there before turning her eyes on the brown woman and her companion. Fur instantly stood up on ends. She had no idea of the woman's name, but was sure she had seen her before at one of Salsola's gatherings.

This was bad.

The entire reason they had moved towards the lake in the first place was because someone in Salsola knew of what she had been doing. How did they find them so quickly again? Once Nazario and Briarblack were done speaking, she made herself known. Green eyes glared down at the red-eyed woman as she approached the new leader. She leaned over, whispering into his ear with venom, "Don't trust her. She's Salsolan. I've seen her before."

Her head moved back down, but her glare had not let up from these strangers.

Decided to go on ahead and jump in on this. +400 words.

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</div> <div id="DahliaPP"><a href="https://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Packs.DelCenereGangJoining" title="Become a Del Ceneren!"><img src="https://dcg.soulsrpg.com/pride/songbirdButton.png"></a></div> </div> </div> </div>[/html]
#4
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There were moments that made people. Symre thought of the moment that Hyacinth had discussed the tarot with her, or the first time that her mother had carefully plaited her long hair. There had been something then, some small spark that had been nurtured into the woman that Symre was becoming. In Salsola she was listless and cruel, with a sharp tongue and eyes that were eager to judge or spit fire.

The Kingdom was a place for some – with a coven that eagerly lapped up witches that fit the mold. Symre could feel the reach of her Uncle even from this distance, the way his golden expression grew sad with failed expectation whenever they spoke. Would Hyacinth have felt the same way? Symre hummed in her throat as Torin pinched dirt curiously between his thick fingers, the great pouf of his mane billowing as a breeze trickled up from the south.

Torin growled softly, and Symre felt her eyes slide to him as her jaws parted to snap – but instead there was nothing, for she too had caught sight of the shadowy figures who padded toward them.

They called from a distance – the darkling woman with hair that curled about her shoulders, and a one-eyed man that Symre found herself squinting at with familiarity. Torin grunted and stood closer than Symre would have ever allowed, but there was something to be said for a man who sought to defend against a perceived threat. Soon there was another coyote, silver and rose, and Symre barked a laugh as she whispered into the mans ear.

Symre held out her hands, ”Speak up, we can’t hear you!”

”Symre-“

”Tchk, we’re not armed. If they were going to attack us they would have already.”






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᛫ ᚻᛖᛞᛄ ᛫ ᚹᛁᛏᚳ᛫
#5
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my heart was flawed, i knew my weakness

Briarblack's stance had not lessened, her hackles stiff and bristling somewhat as the male companion of their company growled and postured just as defensively.

Before long, Dahlia had come, and drew away the medic's attention, doubling back her gaze to the rose-and-silver woman as she came alongside, and then surpassed her on the way to Nazario. His eye had not strayed from the duo, but the little twitch of his red ear was twitching, what with Dahlia's warning.

The chocolate coated Salsolan was still familiar, all sharp and clever-tongued and coarse.

These did not seem to fit the rumors, the churn and fold that were Salsolan, but he took Dahlia's hiss with a grain of salt, and lifted his chin. The gathered parties were at a momentary impasse. Nazario folded his palms together.

"I said, this place ain't for you," he answered the woman's call, more solidly this time, voice swinging low. He did not growl. Behind him, Briarblack's pale blue eyes bored into the woman, prying and wary. The fledgling leader, however, looked more level. His heart, though, was steeled - he did not yet show the cards that the de le Poer at his side had handed him.

"So what brings you t' our doorstep?"

--| [wc — 000] template by hilli
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#6
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All things truly wicked start from Innocence




While Salsolans were going to be easy for someone like Dahlia to pick out, ones that she had seen at least in passing when the kingdom had gathered together in one place, that did not mean she knew all on them on a bit of a personal level. Really, the only ones that was left with were the leaders and those that were now part of her family, whether she liked it or not. Coaxoch was the father of her sister's children, and she had been the one to leave them behind in his care. She could only hope he would not waste the opportunity that had been left with him.

The gray coyote stepped to the side, finding a place near Briarblack. There was a quick turn of her head to acknowledge the woman that was now at her side, but then those green orbs turned to focus on the dark woman and her companion. It seemed they weren't doing anything, which had been a bit strange.

Dahlia might have recognized them, but had the two of them not recognized her in return. There was still a risk of her staying here in the open when she could have been reported back to the kingdom, but she couldn't very well keep hiding in the territory of their new home forever. She had to be willing to fight for it.

It seemed that Nazario was still taking his own approach to the situation, though he had now been armed with the warning. If push came to shove, they could just work together to chase them away from the borders. Perhaps this would be a good chance to see what would come of this. It would be better for her not to speak up yet, instead letting her eyes remained focused on the two across from the coyotes.

+300 words.

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</div> <div id="DahliaPP"><a href="https://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Packs.DelCenereGangJoining" title="Become a Del Ceneren!"><img src="https://dcg.soulsrpg.com/pride/songbirdButton.png"></a></div> </div> </div> </div>[/html]
#7
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The one eyed coyote watched them with a consideration that she could barely see across the empty space that lay between them – a border drawn in the sand that stunk of their kind. Symre had not been around for the Inferni war, though she had been brought to Salsola in the wake of it. When Brocade had attempted to recruit her into his Shield he had taken her to the ruins of their mansion in an effort to expose her to something that would ignite in her a passion to protect.

Instead it had turned her off the whole thing and started her down a path that she was still discovering every day.

Coyotes meant nothing to her, just in the same way that dogs or wolves did.

The dark girl who stood behind him had long hair that ebbed and swayed on the breeze, the perfect blue of her eyes standing out starkly against the shadows of her face. She did not smile at either of them, and Symre swore that there was something about her that made her feel adversarial. Torin was still growling softly, absently toying with the vambraces on his arms as he gazed over Symres shoulder to the trio of coyotes who milled together like soldiers prepared to strike.

”Sounds t’me like we should leave.”

Symre gave her head a curt shake and began to stride toward the ambling border – careful to mind the placement of her feet so that she never actually trespassed on their so-called land.

”Really? Are you sure?” Symre grinned from ear to ear, ”You don’t even know what I’m selling. I might have something that you'd like... for whatever this place is called.”

Torin stood awkwardly behind, one hand resting against the broad shoulder of his horse.

Her eyes roved over the three of them, taking note of the eyepatch that hid the mans eye – the way the healer carefully watched her as if she were a snake that could lash out at anytime. The third one, the one with the spiked collar and the pretty eyes had her cocking her head curiously as recognition seeped into her expression. ”Did The Queen send you here?” She called, quirking a brow, ”You seem awfully familiar up close.”





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᛫ ᚻᛖᛞᛄ ᛫ ᚹᛁᛏᚳ᛫
#8
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my heart was flawed, i knew my weakness

These strangers - only called that by the barest sense of the term due to their oddity, did not disperse, and the woman, wiry and pointed in unfamiliar ways, weaved closer and closer still to the border, but was mindful as she weaved just outside the boundary.

"Unless you're sellin' th' horse," Nazario replied, his own steps coming forward more steadily. Briarblack stiffened behind him, and knit her brow while she studied him with a once-over, demanding reason. The earthy woman's companion was tense. The air was electric, but there was no rolling thunder. "I ain't particularly interested."

Words wove out through those teeth, snide, slithering - and there was a pinching in the edge of his eye, crinkling his suspicion. Salsolans should've known better than to play themselves to the open as such. Dahlia dissuaded his inclinations some time ago, it had seemed; the Inferni war had felt so long ago, where as the threat of Solomon still felt fresh.

There was no sense being scared of the boogeyman.

He was close enough now to smell the pine, the perfumes, on the witch.

"Bold of ya to assume we didn't send her."

His words were a bitter deadpan, and contrasted to the pointed nature of his smile, before he broke into a low guffaw of a laugh.

"Y'two stiffer than our moonshine. Don't Salsolans know how t' relax, or is it always murderin' and burnin' down mansions there?"He snapped his fingers a little, and cast a glimpse to Dahlia over his shoulder, Briarblack still bewildered and bristly. "Y'got any t' share, either of ya? We got guests, after all."

--| [wc — 000] template by hilli
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#9
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All things truly wicked start from Innocence




There wasn't all that much Dahlia could do that would contribute to the overall situation. Nazario was the one in charge now, and this was a great opportunity to see how he would handle the coyotes' longest standing enemy on their doorstep. Before now, when they were all nothing but loners, there was cause to worry over what might happen if Salsola were able to catch them unaware, and all the reason for them to pack up and move before the Thistle Kingdom could discover where they had been hiding.

Now that they were a Gang, they could push back against them, just as they had once before. If they could overcome Solomon and the other wolves, then they could take on the forces of Salsola again... and this time they would not be the one on the losing side.

Green gaze darted between the three parties: being the Salsolans, Nazario, and Briarblack. The dark woman had grown tense, watching as the leader had begun to step closer. The gray coyote could feel herself tense up as well. There was no telling what the outcome might be, as the witch was a stranger even to her. All she knew was of the woman's home, but nothing about her.

And that was dangerous.

Dahlia couldn't help but let her eyes narrow, first to the brown woman's words and then to Nazario's own follow up. Salsola had never been her home, and to assume that the leader of such a place would send her here to spy was disgusting. Even if that had been the case, she'd turn her back on the so called Queen the moment she got.

The Rey Salvaje's words... while she knew that he was sticking up for her, the idea of being pulled around or used like a tool did not sit well with her. She had already spent enough of her life living as such. She held her tongue, on both accounts, not wanting to stir the pot.

Green gaze met up with the one-eyed man, one eyebrow raising. He wanted to share drinks with Salsolans? Well, he was the boss, even if she wasn't fond of the idea. The gray coyote gave a shrug, "I haven't got anything on me though I suppose I could make a quick run to get some." She turned her head over to Briarblack, "Not unless you've got some."

+400 words.

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</div> <div id="DahliaPP"><a href="https://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Packs.DelCenereGangJoining" title="Become a Del Ceneren!"><img src="https://dcg.soulsrpg.com/pride/songbirdButton.png"></a></div> </div> </div> </div>[/html]
#10
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That they seemed so open to her visit at all had Symre wondering what it was they hid behind their long noses and slanted eyes. She could remember a time that Brocade had taken her to scout out the old Inferni lands – back then she had been small enough to fit in front of him on his strong wide horse – and he had explained the mansion burning and the blood that had spilled all in the name of… Well, now that she thought of it she wasn’t sure why the war had started at all.

She cocked her head as Torin made a soft sound in his throat at the mention of brew. He was cautious where she was not, and though his hand made to capture her shoulder she shrugged it off mildly – a flippant gesture with her hand urging him to leave her to her whims.

Symre couldn’t help but laugh at Nazario’s remark. She would gladly welcome a creature who aimed to infiltrate Salsola’s ranks – her allegiance to the crown was by proximity and nothing more. Still she couldn’t help but offer, ”I very much doubt that.” Followed by a grin that was all at once toothy and cool.

Torin made another sound as she crept closer and with a final huff he stiffly stalked after her, his small bear-like ears pricked as far forward as they would allow. Finally the man managed to speak, the usually bubbly blue of his eyes uncharacteristically stern. ”Careful there Coyote-“

Symre glared at him and interrupted to gesture at the saddle bags. ”We don’t have much – just a few odds and ends, some spices that I took from storage and a sad looking fern.” She scratched her chin, ”I’ve never been much for merchantry.”

She mulled her words and glanced between the trio.

”Why would any of you want to share a drink with us?”



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᛫ ᚻᛖᛞᛄ ᛫ ᚹᛁᛏᚳ᛫
#11
[html] <style>.Nazsides {width:550px; font:16px/1.50 Times New Roman; text-align:left; margin:0px auto;}
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my heart was flawed, i knew my weakness

It figured that neither of his coyote company had anything to drink, the moment that Dahlia had directed attention to Briarblack, and the medic, in turn, shrugged her shoulders and looked bewildered, and instead he snapped his fingers, once-twice-thrice, rhythmic with his pull to attention, the molten gold of his eye on her while the trio considered.

"Briarblack, if ya'd be so kind, run t' town and fetch us all a round of drinks, would you?"

She chuffed, a little less enthused over the delegation, but gave a nod and set off to fetch a drink. Nazario smiled after her, warm, inviting, amicable at its surface. The man behind the earthy-colored woman paced closer, making manners of noises in his throat, and the friendly wrinkles to his narrow features waned, however slightly. The young woman seemed to have it under control, reigned her companion back in, but Rio - Rey Salvaje, now - bristled, regardless as his expression cooled.

Careful there, Coyote.

He smiled to Symre, and mumbled his soft, preemptive apology - for a Salsolan, she'd been receptive, perhaps even courteous, in her own prickly way, before he'd turned on her male company again - measured nigh equal in height, and Nazario's hackles raised.

"Ya come here, out your kingdom, t' mine, and tell me to be careful?" The timber of his voice swung low and rumbling, a call to the traces of wolf that ran in his blood, somewhere along the lines where things got crossed. "I think not. We got methods for folks, thinkin' they get t' come here and tell us to be careful. I suggest you take th' friendly gesture, friend."

The blood was surely bad - he himself did not forgive so easily; But suspicion begot no ally.

"Personal feelin's aside, it's not exactly beneficial to go pickin' bones. Merchantry, on th' other hand - that talks plenty." Briarblack's yapping call went up a short ways off - an announcement heralding her return, surely. "Far as drink, it's a peaceable solution, I think. A little bit of sharin', a little bit of care on this bitch of an earth. Hospitality is a wonderful thing. Don't you agree, Dahlia?"

He turned to the tense, gray coyote at his side, gestured for her to come a little closer.

"It ain't so hard to play nice, now. After all, I don't think it's fair of me to condemn someone for th' sins of those that came before 'em, now. Why not break bread for the time bein'?"

--| [wc — 000] template by hilli
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#12
[html]

All things truly wicked start from Innocence




It seemed that Briarblack felt much the same way that Dahlia did about this idea. Neither one of them was fond of the idea of getting cozy with someone from Salsola, even if it was meant as a means to kind of smooth out relations with them. Now that Salsola knew of this place and where she was, there was reason to believe the kingdom might send more this direction. If this group were to come back home without anything being done to them, hell even being treated realtively well by them, then it would keep their biggest enemy at bay.

Green eyes lingered on the darker woman, but they were dragged back over to Nazario as he snapped his fingers. Fur stood up slightly, as did her lips move up. Did he not have the common curtesy to get their attention in some other way? The snapping of his fingers made it seem like he thought something else of the females, even though his attention was focused on Briar than it was on her.

The gray coyote hadn't paid much attention to what was being said between the Rey Salvaje and the two Salsolians, at least not until he had addressed her by name. He had gestured her closer, pondering if she agreed that this sort of hospitality was a wonderful thing.

She only gave him a nod as she cautious made her way forward. She had nothing to say on the matter. Given the way he had treated her when the news about her in Salsola and the discovery of the loner band's group in the first place, this complete one-eighty was off putting to say the least. She came to join Nazario, but even kept her distance a bit from him, tail flicking from side to side.

Though she didn't want to turn her attention away from the Salsolan, her head had turned over her shoulder, waiting and watching for Briarblack to come back from her run to get drinks. It would be nice and probably more comfortable to have her around than being her on her own with Nazario and their enemy.

+300 words.

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</div> <div id="DahliaPP"><a href="https://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Packs.DelCenereGangJoining" title="Become a Del Ceneren!"><img src="https://dcg.soulsrpg.com/pride/songbirdButton.png"></a></div> </div> </div> </div>[/html]
#13
[html]

There was so much about this that Symre hated. Brocade had always been telling her to explore the great paths, to find something that spoke to her passions and heart. Diplomacy was sure to be an important factor to any Kingdoms rise, but Symre could feel herself rippling with uncertainty even as the dark coyote barked the call that would signal for her return. Symre held her hand to her forehead, ”Torin, I won’t ask you again.” She sighed before glaring at him. ”Please shut up.”

He glared at her just as he had the other coyotes, and for a moment blew through his mastiff lips before throwing his hands in the air and standing quietly alongside her.

She knew that eventually when they left this place, he would berate her in that accent of his. Symre grinned at him before looking back to Nazario and his companions, who now had a jug of something between them. ”Hospitality.” Symre mirrored, cocking her hip as she watched the clear liquid poor out into the bowls that Briarblack had brought back with her. Torin watched on curiously, and Symre wondered how many times he and her Uncle had gotten drunk on something similar.

”I guess that’s smart, being a new group and all.” She canted her head, ”Don’t want to cause any ripples.”

She grinned with all of her teeth, ”You won’t mind taking a drink first, will you?”

She wasn't about to be poisoned on the border of a coyote hovel.



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᛫ ᚻᛖᛞᛄ ᛫ ᚹᛁᛏᚳ᛫
#14
[html] <style>.Nazsides {width:550px; font:16px/1.50 Times New Roman; text-align:left; margin:0px auto;}
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my heart was flawed, i knew my weakness

It was a dangerous line they walked - things were still raw, time did not fully heal wounds, and the coyotes regarded these denizens of the Thistle Kingdom with obvious suspicion beneath the veneer of tepid pleasantry. Briarblack came back down the slope of the hill, jug and bowls on her person while she trotted her way back over. Nazario thanked her, and set to pouring out liquid, and passing them out to those gathered, certain to keep his gold eye solidly on Torin as he passed his.

His smile was brittle as Symre spoke, and he wet his lips. "Now, I guess ya can't say that for certain, can you?" Ripples could be fun. Waves all the better. The Rey Salvaje was determined not to follow the mistakes of the past, and his trust felt remarkably short-lived and fickle, but when wasn't it? At her request, he nodded. "Clever."

Nazario looked to Dahlia, and tipped the bowl to his lips, cringing mildly at the burning ache that scorched clear down his throat and settled like a stone in his belly. Teeth bared, he wet his chops again, before clearing his throat. "Ya ever meet er speak with these two - any way to attest t' them as a character witness?" It was without judgement, of course - Nazario could no longer fault her for her past, for her sister's transgressions; the tax had been paid, and death took its due on the poor girl.

--| [wc — 000] template by hilli
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#15
[html]

All things truly wicked start from Innocence




Dahlia had remained silent for the most part, only joining them for the exchange because she had been invited to do so by her new leader. Her head turned around when she noticed that Briarblack was coming back down with the drinks. Good, at least now she would feel more comfortable having her back with the group. She waited until she had offered the drink to Nazario, then gesturing for her to come over near her.

Something about having someone that wasn't constantly breathing down her neck, be it from Salsola or a strict leader. Even her general posture seemed to relax. Of course, it was clear now that Nazario was not ragging on her for being a part of their enemy's home anymore, but in their presence, she couldn't help but feel more on edge for her past decisions.

Her thoughts snapped back into reality when she heard the coyote male clearing his throat. It seemed he was just not used to the kinds of things the darker female had brought back with her, much like she wasn't. Guess there was something the both of them had in common.

When he turned his attention back on her, the gray coyote let her green gaze fall on the two situated with them. She offered a shrug, not taking her eyes off them, "I don't know either one of them personally, only saw them present for some of the gatherings that were held. I can't tell you much else aside from that." It wasn't like she had gone out of her way to make relationships with anyone in Salsola.

Not when she had her sister's kids to watch over.

+200 words.

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</div> <div id="DahliaPP"><a href="https://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Packs.DelCenereGangJoining" title="Become a Del Ceneren!"><img src="https://dcg.soulsrpg.com/pride/songbirdButton.png"></a></div> </div> </div> </div>[/html]
#16
[html]

”I mean… I’ve never been part of a war. But I imagine that ripples are bad.” She allowed one of her brows to raise slightly as she eyed the clear liquid in her glass. Torin was inspecting his scrupulously, the vivid blue of his eyes pinched as he turned it to and fro in his large hands. "But fun."

”Clever.”

Symre curtsied, grinning. ”Thank you.”

The coyotes drank first, hissing at the strong taste of the liquor as it burned its way down their throats. Symre could smell the drink long before she tasted it, and when she was certain that there was nothing nefarious about the proffered beverage she tipped it into her long mouth with a twitching smile.

It caught her by surprise and had her snorting a cough through her jaws as her eyes bulged.

”Shit. What is that?” But then they were discussing character witnesses, and Symre couldn’t help but role her eyes. ”What, really? You still don't trust us? She was only in Salsola for a hot second – barely enough time to know her at all.”

Torin was delicately lapping his drink and made a face before downing the entire cup in one go.

”Did you take anything when you left?”



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.amarot p {text-indent: 25px; font-size:15px; text-align:justify;}
.amarot p.oocstuff {opacity:.7;border-top:1px solid rgba(0, 0, 0, .5); padding-top:3px; padding-left:3px; font-size:11px; text-align:left;}
.amarot npc { letter-spacing:.5px; opacity: .7;font-weight:bold; }
</style>
[/html]
᛫ ᚻᛖᛞᛄ ᛫ ᚹᛁᛏᚳ᛫


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