[P] Rest Stop
A steady rhythm leads a foreboding presence, a cold and latent malevolence brewing beneath the darkness of a roiling sky. One man moved mutely aft of the other. Two soldiers, the larger at a feral, four-legged saunter, made their way from the previous establishment of Gagetown and onward into the wilderness that lay between it and the river in considerable distance. With the duo's movement, the silence of fauna enveloped them. What creatures sought to make their call against the sharp fusillade of the raging skies reverberating amid them all, scrambled to fade away so as not to be found by the heinous aura that was Shaamah's constant ubiquity. The natural world knew his darkness, even before it came to pass or light dared to shine upon it.

Ahead of him, a smaller stature of soldier, but no less than any. They knew naught of the others pasts, each an enigma that they had yet the desire to unveil to their counterpart, nor the ambition to present. Yet, the reticence between them was welcomed to the ebony-laced beast that traveled alongside the black-and-tan, slight hound. There was a certain abhorrence he felt for those who fancied to fill their daily interlude with asinine blather. For Mercier's sake, they were better off with the white noise of the approaching squall; The two of them had been traveling together for such a time that Shaamah almost believed him to know this as a truth.

As they had been peripatetic for quite some time, the preponderant of the two took it upon himself to initiate a moment of respite against the sludge that concealed against him from paws to brisket. He could have, certainly, continued to move on with little concern for the stamina that it required to maneuver such an environment, but it would be futile endeavor at best. The world they currently resided was about to be a deluge no matter where they find their location may be. It was as simply put; He had enjoyed his fair share of muck and mud a long time ago. There wasn't a single notion of languish for such an indigent life abandoned.

The grey-scale creature perched atop of no distinct plot, save for the safety of thick timber to his back, a heterochromic gaze sweeping the vista ahead. All the while, ears revolved atop sentient crown and reached rearward for the blundering of an unlikely, but possible, interloper. Scrutiny passed, though wary attributes were resolute, and immediate attention fell to his colleague. If there were words to be spoken, Mercier would find the proper ones, and if not, then the two would be given the chance to enjoy the temporary lull.
[Image: rnGRPkV.png]
Mercier Benoit Voclain

Perhaps it hadn't been the best move to head out knowing there was a storm heading their way, but it wasn't as if he hadn't traveled in a storm before. In fact that happened so much as a soldier that you just didn't really consider holding off on going anywhere when the weather looked bad. If they needed to stop they would just bunker down and sit it out. Sometimes it was hard to get out of that mindset and realize there was no need to be so strict and stubborn about pushing forward. But the dog was restless and wanted to move rather than wait for the oncoming storm to come and pass.

Once they had traveled for a time it became clear the storm would come to be worse than anticipated. Mercier had it on his mind as they continued onward, considering what to do. He was stubborn though so it was taking a while for him to come up with a game plan. The wind kicked up around them, causing leaves to rain down at a slow but steady rate as they were ripped from their swaying branches. Colorless eyes glanced skyward to observe the branches high above creaking in protest against the strengthening wind. He clenched his jaw before licking his chops and slowing down the pace of their trek.

Mud covered his legs from toe to hock, splattering his jeans upward to the thigh and occasionally further. He was going to have to do some serious laundry after their exploration through the area. A silent sigh was released as he slowed to a halt upon drier ground for the two to take a break. Not that it was really needed but mainly so the tiny man could consider whether to keep the pair continuing forward through the coming deluge or to turn back before they were amidst the heavy storm. Thunder rolled across the sky, booming and crackling loudly and ominously; lightning would light up the scenery around them despite it being day. The clouds were so dark it appeared to be evening.

Mercier moved to stand beside his companion, leaning against the tree he sat against to the other side with his arms crossed. He idly flung some mud from his legs and pant legs, glancing downward as he did so before gray eyes traveled upward once more. The storm was severe enough to spawn a tornado, unlikely as it was, and the dog mix was anxious about being caught in that kind of situation without any real kind of shelter. He turned and leaned slightly to the side to look down at the larger wolf, "We should head back to Gagetown in a minute." And have a ton of fun going back the way they came through the muck and mud and then sitting there in some building waiting for the storm to pass.

this is ooc here
<style>.merc_bw { width:650px; margin:0 auto; background-color:#000; border:1px #000 solid; background-image:url('http://i.imgur.com/vzufzhg.jpg'); background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:top center; color:#fff; font-family:'Roboto', arial, sans-serif; } .merc_bw .name { text-shadow:#000 1px 1px 3px; font-family:'Special Elite', times, serif; font-size:45px; text-align:center; margin-top:200px; text-transform:uppercase; margin-bottom:-20px; } .merc_bw .inner { background-image:url('http://i.imgur.com/QE5O4uK.png'); background-repeat:repeat; padding:5px 20px; margin:0 20px; border:#000 1px solid;} .merc_bw p { line-height:23px; text-align:justify; font-size:15px; } .merc_bw b:before { content:open-quote; } .merc_bw b:after { content:close-quote; } .merc_bw .ooc { border-top:1px solid; opacity:0.6; text-align:center; padding:5px;}</style>
by raze
[html]<img src="" width="100px" style="margin:5px; float:left;" title="by andy"><small>avatar by <i>raze</i>, signature by <i>andy</i>!</small>
<center><div id="signature-icons"><a href="#!" class="mature-character" title="MATURE CHARACTER. Sensitive viewers beware."></a> <a href="#!" class="optime-preference" title="OPTIME unless otherwise stated."></a> <a href="#!" class="apparel-accessories" title="Character is /always/ seen wearing clothes. Typically wears jeans, shirt, jacket and a white scarf."></a> <a href="#!" target="_blank" title="Character speaks French(native), Russian, German and Italian, denoted by italics(hover for translations). Generally speaks with no accent; comes out in some rare situations." class="foreign-language"></a>
<a href="#!" class="skill-fighting" title="Character is a skilled fighter. Skilled in hand-to-hand combat, knives/daggers and archery."></a> <a href="#!" class="skill-medic" title="Character is a skilled medic. Knowledge of medicine, herbs, mixing herbs to make medicines, general medic stuff."></a> <a href="#!" class="skill-scholar" title="Character is a skilled scholar. Can read/write(in all languages he's versed in)."></a> <a href="#!" class="skill-stealth" title="Character is skilled in stealth."></a> <a href="#!" class="skill-hunting" title="Character is a skilled hunter."></a>
</div><style>@import url('http://sleepyglow.net/rp/icons/signature-icons.css');</style></center>
<center><div style="background-image: url('http://i60.tinypic.com/91m1c1.jpg'); width: 470px; height: 90px; text-align: left; font-size: 10px; text-transform: uppercase; padding-top: 20px; padding-left: 30px;"><a href="http://dead-end.stillnight.net/showthread.php?tid=59&pid=264#pid264">Studio</a> &middot; <a href="http://dead-end.stillnight.net/showthread.php?tid=51">Post Log</a> &middot; <strong>Thread Requests:</strong> Open</div></center>[/html]
Water beaded off of the lock that cropped out of the top of Shaamah's widows peak. Little rivers had already made their paths against his skin, removing the grime from his back, but dispensing it to the reaches of his lower body. Mercier had made the very same timber, that Shaamah had put his back to, his post for the moment as well. Unenthused yet solid gaze found the slight man in his mental predicament, the beast watching grey eyes carefully. The bantam mercenary fidgeted a bit with the filth that coated his clothing as something was deliberated within that prudent skull. The monotonous man held his place in silence. Merc was a thoughtful man, often in his mind, and nary for poor reasoning.

There was a high chance that he was debating their trek through the weather, something of which Shaamah had never taken into consideration when on his own. A lone wolf needed to travel a certain distance for safety and sustenance, be it rain, sleet or snow. A duo, however, was a very different subject. Having one injured and held behind would only pull the other to the side. Companionship often meant consideration, to which Shaamah allowed Mercier, and Shaamah often followed in Mercier's path because of it. The beast wasn't concerned with his own plans, to which he often had none save survival. Mercier easily took lead of the rag-tag pair because of it. It was the best decision for both of them. Two could hunt more successfully than one, and the protection of one additional number was enough to ward off most unneccessary encounters. It was simply logic. This and, Shaamah didn't loathe the small canine completely. Mercier gave him his silence when he demanded it; Shaamah's idea of demand being a very convincing glare often times. They respected each others space, privacy and history. It was, in a sense, a mutual arrangement for the both of them.

Merciers voice rose above the rainfall after a sharp roiling that echoed through the heavens. What he spoke was most likely the wisest choice for the two of them to proceed with. Continuing travel would definitely cause problems if the weather worsened, and the area they had managed to get to was sure to fall to rising waters, being at a lower point than the rest. Shaamah's eyes closed, a single lowering of his crown to allow the man that he was understood in reasoning. Grey-hued man had no quarrel with turning back if that's what Mercier wanted," Hmn..." He offered, before lifting himself onto muck ridden columns. Taking a few steps away, he shook himself free of what was loose. All manner of mud, earth and leaves erupted from his hide, the most of it lifting from that flag that ended the gyration with a flick.

Heading back was a decent idea, yes. Waiting any longer to do so wasn't an interest of Shaamah's. Large paws, once ebony with coat now brown with the sludge that still clung to him, began carrying him back in the direction in whence they had come. There was no point in waiting. Neither of them were fatigued, or should be, and the rain was only to fall in the time they hesitated. Silent beast headed the pair, for a change, and trailed the path they had previously taken on their way here. It wouldn't be long until they'd find shelter in the town they had just recently passed through. Their inspection of it before would have been enough to narrow down the best manner of hunkering down until the storm passed.
[Image: rnGRPkV.png]

Forum Jump: