[AW] you are a tourist
#1
[html]


Finding a new living space came with complications for anybody, but it was a unique challenge for Pascal.

Bedding down in thickets or sleeping beneath the stars was easier, but that was when they were constantly on the move. Knowing that these places were impermanent reassured him, in a way; he could afford to lower his standards and didn't worry about what a singular bad night might mean.

It was different when he entered a building and considered that this might be his home for the next few months, years, or more. Every imperfection bothered him – though leaking roofs and drafty corners could not hold a candle to the factors most Luperci would not consider. A quiet place was important to a man who was easily overwhelmed by loud sounds, but being too far removed to hear the soft chatter of the pack around him was a problem, too. He needed somewhere he could feel secure, but many buildings made him feel claustrophobic.

He'd started his search as soon as the weather cleared, not wanting to take advantage of his sister's hospitality. Several options had been considered and discarded already, some with a glance, others with an overnight stay. Pigeon, his opposite in so many ways, seemed to love bouncing from house to house in the City Square, wasting no time in sniffing every nook and cranny when they arrived. None thus far had met all his needs, though, and Pascal wondered if he should force himself to adapt, no matter how torturous it might be, if only for Pigeon's sake.

But that morning – cold but bright – Pascal stepped into one of the stone houses and was given pause.

It was as humble a cabin as others in the fort, with two rooms not including a water closet whose main fixture was uprooted. Pascal noted large windows which, though they left the house feeling cold, let in an abundance of natural light. Cardinals sang in the conifers outside, and his sensitive ears could pick up on the sound of other Caledonians wandering the town, reassuring him that they were near.

It passed the first, and most important, test: it did not remind him of the cave. His tail wagging, he wandered in to assess it further.

380

All welcome! This is mainly a ramble about Pascal finding a residence, but I would love him to meet someone new! Shy


<style> .txtfromMandi {padding:20px; font-family: 'Crimson Text', serif; text-align:justify;} .txtfromMandi p:first-child:first-letter {text-indent:60px; margin:0px; float: left; font-size: 75px; line-height: 60px; padding-top: 4px; padding-right: 8px; padding-left: 3px; font-family: 'Amita', cursive;} .txtfromMandi p {font-family: 'Crimson Text', serif; font-size:18px; margin:0px; padding:3px; line-height:20px;} .txtfromMandi p + p {text-indent:60px;} .txtfromMandi b:before { content:'"'; } .txtfromMandi b:after { content:'"'; } .txtfromMandi .npc {font-style: italic; filter:alpha(opacity=65%); opacity:.65;} .txtfromMandi .npc2 {font-style: italic; font-weight:normal; filter:alpha(opacity=65%); opacity:.65;} .txtfromMandi p.ooc {opacity:0.7; padding:3px; text-align: left; text-indent:0px; font-size:16px; padding:10px 5px;} .txtfromMandi p.ooc:before { content:'OOC: '; } .txtfromMandi p.wc {opacity:0.7; padding:3px; text-align: right; text-indent:0px; font-size:16px; padding:10px 5px;} .txtfromMandi .wc { overflow: hidden; text-align: center; opacity:0.8; font-size:18px; margin:5px auto 0 auto; width:90%; font-family:Amita; } .txtfromMandi .wc:before, .txtfromMandi .wc:after { background-color: #000; content: ""; display: inline-block; height: 1px; position: relative; vertical-align: middle; width: 50%; opacity:0.3; } .txtfromMandi .wc:before { right: 0.5em; margin-left: -50%; } .txtfromMandi .wc:after { left: 0.5em; margin-right: -50%; } </style>

[/html]
[html]<img src="https://i.imgur.com/rfAWzF9.png" style="width:600px;"/>[/html]
#2
OOC: Surpriseeee! Optime

IC:
New Caledonia as a whole didn’t feel like home yet but sharing the little house with Rhavan and Arran (and, thankfully, no longer goats or sheep) filled Erebel with a warmth she hadn’t felt in some time. Despite the chill outside and the wind numbing her cheeks, the wild-haired woman walked the streets of the City Square with a gentle smile, her tail wagging every now and then when she passed someone or her eyes were drawn to something interesting: a shape picked out of a mound of snow, or a distorted face found in the worn bark of a tree.

The buildings, too, interested Erebel. Much like a family, they each had their own character but seemed to fit together as a whole. She smiled as she passed the stone structures, her expression brightening as if she were greeting a row of new friends.

Her paws were well used to travel but fighting through the snow drifts to reach New Caledonia had left Ere feeling a little more worn that she was accustomed to. She decided to duck into a building for a breather, grateful to escape the sun’s glare - though it was cold enough that she wasn’t suffering in her dark pelt, she still preferred the gentle glow of the moon or the flicker of a flame.

“Oh,” she breathed as she entered the building, catching the scent of someone who had beaten her to it. Erebel had no intention of claiming the place for herself but was wary of intruding nonetheless. Her tail dipped, her ears lowering slightly.

[200+]
#3
[html]


His sensitive ears caught a whisper of surprise from the threshold, and he turned away from the array of metal hooks he'd been studying in the kitchen – meant to hang herbs or perhaps meat. His mismatched eyes settled instead on another canine, a dark-furred dog with a smattering of silvered merle across her face. Her posture was submissive, ears and tail dipping as he faced her, but Pascal – who had difficulty reading nuance in others' actions and expressions – worried.

Is this your home? I didn't smell an occupant, the Sadira man said, his voice its usual deadpan. His small ears told the truth of his uncertainty, flickering back, popping forward, sweeping down into his curls again. Was she just surprised to see him in the house, because she wasn't paying attention or because he was new? Or was she uncomfortable but attempting to be non-confrontational about his trespass? He grunted before rubbing his mouth, a tic that betrayed hesitation to speak, going carefully over the words in his head before he spread his hands peacably.

I apologize, I'm new here. My name is Pascal Sadira.

191

<style> .txtfromMandi {padding:20px; font-family: 'Crimson Text', serif; text-align:justify;} .txtfromMandi p:first-child:first-letter {text-indent:60px; margin:0px; float: left; font-size: 75px; line-height: 60px; padding-top: 4px; padding-right: 8px; padding-left: 3px; font-family: 'Amita', cursive;} .txtfromMandi p {font-family: 'Crimson Text', serif; font-size:18px; margin:0px; padding:3px; line-height:20px;} .txtfromMandi p + p {text-indent:60px;} .txtfromMandi b:before { content:'"'; } .txtfromMandi b:after { content:'"'; } .txtfromMandi .npc {font-style: italic; filter:alpha(opacity=65%); opacity:.65;} .txtfromMandi .npc2 {font-style: italic; font-weight:normal; filter:alpha(opacity=65%); opacity:.65;} .txtfromMandi p.ooc {opacity:0.7; padding:3px; text-align: left; text-indent:0px; font-size:16px; padding:10px 5px;} .txtfromMandi p.ooc:before { content:'OOC: '; } .txtfromMandi p.wc {opacity:0.7; padding:3px; text-align: right; text-indent:0px; font-size:16px; padding:10px 5px;} .txtfromMandi .wc { overflow: hidden; text-align: center; opacity:0.8; font-size:18px; margin:5px auto 0 auto; width:90%; font-family:Amita; } .txtfromMandi .wc:before, .txtfromMandi .wc:after { background-color: #000; content: ""; display: inline-block; height: 1px; position: relative; vertical-align: middle; width: 50%; opacity:0.3; } .txtfromMandi .wc:before { right: 0.5em; margin-left: -50%; } .txtfromMandi .wc:after { left: 0.5em; margin-right: -50%; } </style>

[/html]
[html]<img src="https://i.imgur.com/rfAWzF9.png" style="width:600px;"/>[/html]
#4
Metal glinted beyond the building’s first visitor as he turned toward Erebel. He was a man of dark russet colouration sprinkled with silver - older than her by far, something which Erebel, with Rhavan as her Gramma, never underestimated.

As the wolf spoke, the dog’s curious gaze swept the room but her ears remained swivelled in his direction, if a little flatter than usual. She shifted her weight, her aching paws protesting, but she wasn’t going to plonk herself down in the middle of a room that might belong to someone else.

Her fidgeting stilled as she realised she had no clue how to gauge this man’s feelings about the situation - something which brought Erebel anxiety rather than relief.

“No, no,” she blurted, almost before Pascal had finished speaking. “I have no claim here.”

Erebel forced an anxious smile, flexing her toes to ward off an ache. Trying to flex them… but she wasn’t sure she could feel all of them. She started to wonder if she should’ve given them a longer period of rest before trudging around town.

Her eyes widened slightly and then fell beneath a frown.

“You don’t need to apologise. I’m new - sort of - as well.”

Erebel’s smile widened and the strain around her lips seemed to retreat. She smoothed her hair without much success and straightened her back.

“I’m Erebel Fir-Chlis, of Menel. I live with my brother and Gramma.” Her head lifted to take in the space around them. “I’m glad to meet another newcomer - oh, I like the windows!”

[267]


Forum Jump: