[AW] find me before someone else does
#1
West end of Gaspesia.



By his estimate, there were at least two packs nearby, but the space between them seemed vast and plentiful -- and thankfully, more covered in trees and grasses than the marshy, muddy, snow-melt mess he seemed to have just finished slogging through. Soliloquy was not much bothered by a bit of dirt, but having it caked up past his knees was uncomfortable, even if he didn't care about his appearance or what impression it gave others.

Even in the spot of surprise mid-afternoon sun, the water was freezing. Chunks of snow and ice rushed by now and again, with some breaking into pieces against the rock he'd been using as an anchor point. The mottled hybrid pushed himself up from the shallow stream, stepping slowly and carefully towards the pebble-ridden shore. His mostly white fur was still botched with mud in some places, but at least the hardened bits had been cleaned off.

Continuing into the grass, Soliloquy shook off roughly, then turned to soak a rag in the water before turning towards his horse, who was grazing voraciously nearby. She did not look up as he approached, and she did not react when he placed a hand on her hindquarters, but she startled when he touched the cold, soaked rag against one of her hind legs. Lifting her head from the grass suddenly, she gave Soliloquy a dirty look and started to walk forward.

"Give me a break," the hybrid grumbled. "I know you'd rather not be covered in mud, and it's not my fault the water is freezing."

The grey mare stopped several feet away, but tossed her tail at him when he reached out with his wet rag again, then started walking again.

"Are you really going to make me chase you around the field like this?" Soliloquy asked, stalking after her.

And her response seemed to be 'yes,' because she kept going.

#2
It Follows music plays in the distance.
Daisy is in her Lupus form.

Daisy left the borders of New Caledonia behind her and loped off into the forest at a brisk pace. She had waited for the worst of the chilly morning to abate before delving into the woodland, where shadow from the slope of the mountain and the mostly-bare trees kept the ground cold underfoot. There were plenty of pines still green and bursting with life, and Daisy saw other signs that told her spring was coming – robins, especially.

Unbeknownst to Daisy, her third birthday had passed a little more than a week ago. She didn't know exactly when she had been born, only that it was early in the spring. Percival might have a better idea, being that he was bookish and nerdy, but he seemed always caught up in one thing or another. Though they had both met King Iomair at the same time, it was clear to Daisy that her brother had become a close council to their monarch. It was all well and good to her. The less she got involved in personal problems and politics, the better.

For the better part of the morning and early afternoon Daisy roamed without goal in mind. She explored interesting scents and dug at a few soft pieces of ground that looked like they might have hidden something, but so far wound up empty handed. The squirrels chattered and shrieked at her presence, and she had once startled a pair of deer who fled with their white tails raised and crashed nosily through the brush. While she had pursued them briefly, instinctively, Daisy soon gave up and slowed. She couldn't bring down a deer alone, nor did she particularly care to.

Her thirst was what drew her to find water, and it was here she found the man and his horse. Neither were particularly strange sights – plenty of Luperci kept animals. Daisy didn't know how to ride a horse. She liked exploring on her own four legs, like she was doing now.

It looked like the man was trying to catch the horse...with a rag? Confused, Daisy cocked her head. She watched this go on for a few seconds before making her way to the water and drinking noisily, uncertain if her presence would spook the horse or its presumable master (or soon to be master, should this be some sort of haphazard capture attempt).
It is better to light a single candle than to curse the darkness.
#3
More than once, Soliloquy had wondered whether he had kept the right horse. His black gelding hadn't been this difficult, had he? But if he thought about it long enough, the hybrid had no choice but to conclude that yes, in fact, the other horse had been worse.

Weedberry, as he had named him as a child, had been stronger and more stubborn. It'd meant that he could carry more and for longer, but it also meant that the gelding had been difficult to maneuver through rough terrain or less than ideal situations. Cassandra had called him a flighty coward, and Fiction had sometimes joked that he suited Soliloquy. The horse had thrown him more than a few times as well, but for better or worse, he had learned to ride with that temperamental animal, and he liked to think he was better off for it.

By comparison, his mother's old mare was much more mild-mannered, but even so, sometimes horses were just difficult.

"Come on," Soliloquy said again. "I already unsaddled you to let you eat and it makes way more sense to clean you up now while everything's off."

He often felt ridiculous talking to horses, especially out loud when he was otherwise alone, but he was also positive that they could understand more than most might expect. Raindew maintained her distance from him, tossing her head indignantly. Surely that wouldn't be something she'd do if she wasn't specifically trying to be a pain?

The sound of lapping water turned his head, and Soliloquy once again cursed himself for being caught off guard. The cold and the unpredictable wind kept working against him, and the rapid flow of water in the stream distracted from all other ambient noises. Still, the woman he saw on the bank was unassuming. It had been some time since he'd seem someone in their four-legged form, but the sight comforted him for some reason. It felt simple and familiar.

"Hello," he said politely, but was immediately at a loss for what to follow this up with. He was still fairly wet and she'd probably just heard him talk to his horse, so it was probable she had more to remark on than he did.
#4
Daisy finished her drink and lifted her head. Having regained her breath, she felt more comfortable talking – especially when she saw that the man didn't look like he was armed or intending to harass her.

“Hello,” he called back. Taking this exchange as an invitation, the wolfdog approached the stranger. He was spotted like a dog but sharp and big-eared like the coyotes out west. He looked plenty big though – she supposed everyone looked big when she was on all fours, though. In any case, Daisy erred on the more likely chance of the man being friendly and made these signs herself, going so far as to get close enough to better get an understanding of his scent. If he was from a pack, she'd be able to determine that quickly. The man and the horse were both muddy and wet looking, and it hadn't run away. She made a point to keep an eye open for his gear, suspecting it to be nearby. That would determined just as fast whether or not he was likely to become a threat.

The incident with the bear had left her defensive and actively looking for danger, but Daisy wasn't going to let it stop her from looking for the best in others.

Foul folk always had a bad feeling about them. Plenty could hide it behind pretty faces and convincing words, while others had no reason to hide.

“Geeze, you sure musta come through a whole lotta mud, huh?” Daisy barked. “I think yer right,” she added with a wink. “Definitely easier t'wash off a horse without a saddle, as far as I know. If I'm botherin' yer horse I can leave once I get some water.”
It is better to light a single candle than to curse the darkness.
#5
Though always eager to learn more about them, Soliloquy rarely knew how to approach conversation with strangers. He knew that everyone was a potential threat, even if they acted otherwise -- but he wasn't confident in his ability to judge one way or another and often felt inadequate in his nescience The hybrid had had a decent track record thus far, though this only made him feel certain it was only a matter of time before someone made a fool of him.

Still, the woman was at a disadvantage (probably? she was faster than him in that form, which meant she could possibly beat him in a fight, especially since his belt, weapons, and other supplies lay in a heap near the stream, half hidden by tall grasses), so even if she was an untrustworthy character, there wasn't much she could do in the moment, right? Soliloquy tried not to think about it. He always worried himself by not being sure whether he was worrying enough.

She approached him easily enough (the confidence of someone with a pack to back her, perhaps?) and her voice and words were friendly. Soliloquy waved his tail slowly, tentatively, and smiled sheepishly. "There was nothing but mud north of here," he said. "Everything looks like it's covered in short grass, but the ground just sinks the moment you step on it. I'll be glad to see spring come."

The hybrid glanced behind him a moment. Raindew was still watching him from several paces away, tail twitching. She was certainly aware of their company, but did not bother to glance at the other dog. "I don't think you're bothering her," Soliloquy decided. "She's just being difficult for no reason. Or maybe the reason is she wants to make it clear she doesn't want to slog through mud again any time soon."

He looked back to the woman, noticing for the first time her mismatched eyes. He hadn't ever seen anyone with eyes like that before. "Are you from around here?" he asked.
#6
“Aw is it all mud?” Daisy asked, disappointed. She had wanted to return to the mountains in the west, especially the place with the strange ground, but she was less inclined to get herself all caught up in the muck and mire. Worst case scenario would be she got stuck forever and died, but Daisy was aware of the danger and knew to avoid it. No bog or tide would catch her unawares.

“Well thanks for tellin' me, that saves me a whole lotta trouble. I guess it's probably still early, what a bummer,” she exclaimed dramatically. The dog sighed and blew a breath of hot air out of her mouth, ruffling her mustache. She was scruffy all over, and had a crop of hair atop her head that stuck up wildly – styled by dirt and grease, windswept and tangled by the reaching hands of all the brush she had passed along the way.

The stranger had bright eyes, and a dark spot on his face that matched her own. His was smaller, but stood out against his snowy fur.

“Yeah, actually,” the wolfdog answered. She turned her head until it found a vaguely north-eastern direction. “I'm from New Caledonia, which is up thataways. I'm Z,” she introduced herself using her self-appointed nickname, pleased by the way it sounded (very cool, in her opinion). 

“Where are you two headed? Away from the mud, huh?” She asked, and wagged her tail to show her teasing was meant in good humor. It wasn't the worst state to be in, especially since there was hardly a place that would offer dry ground for some time. When the sun was out it melted the ground, and when it was cloudy the rain came – not to mention the still swollen creeks and rivers. Even the lakes would be murky places for a while, and make for bad fishing.
It is better to light a single candle than to curse the darkness.
#7
He had been a traveler for long enough to know how to navigate most types of terrain, and to know never to be arrogant about this skill, because nature was not a force to be underestimated. But knowing how didn't make the actual doing any less wearisome. It had only been a few months, but he wanted to be still again. Exploring was different when there was a home to go back to at the end of the day. Soliloquy was sure that the mudpits wouldn't have been as tiresome if that had been the case, but it was also true that he probably wouldn't have bothered in that case either -- as this woman was surely choosing not to bother, for the time being.

"Do the seasons change quickly here, or does spring like to take its time?" he wondered, smiling at bit at the other's dramatic sigh. "My name is Soliloquy," he offered in turn. "Pleased to meet you, Z."

Raindew appeared beside him suddenly and her enormous head pushed lightly against the hand in which he'd been holding the rag. "What?" Soliloquy demanded out of habit, then immediately swept his ears back in embarrassment at talking to his horse again. He glared at the mare, then rubbed her nose and wiped the damp cloth -- now slightly less cold than it was -- across her neck.

"Away from the mud for sure," he said, looking back at the other dog. "Beyond that, I don't know. Someplace to settle, maybe. What's your pack like?"
#8
“Eh, it depends,” Daisy said with a shrug. “We had a real bad blizzard last winter, but it wasn't too bad this season so things might be faster this time 'round.” She wasn't entirely sure how long it would take for spring to fully and properly arrive. The water was higher than it had been and she had seen more birds in the area, but there weren't many flowers yet and on clear nights the temperature still fell to low points. While she could not approximate her guess, she felt inclined to plan for a late spring – it made her more cautious about using up supplies or wasting chances.

Soliloquy (a mouthful of a name much like her own surname) seemed nice enough, and inclined to chat even though his horse finally seemed interested in his company. Daisy just smiled, used to the way folks treated their animals – she talked to Eddy and Loslin (who admittedly could talk back) and knew plenty of wranglers and shepherds who did the same. If anything, she might have thought Soliloquy odd if he did not speak to his horse.

“New Caledonia is pretty awesome,” the wolfdog said with no lack of enthusiasm. She winked again. “It's pretty big now, but it didn't used ta be. Started up when a buncha Old Caledonians came this way to settle. There's a lot of folk who came from places 'round here that joined up too – I'm originally from Krokar, which was back west, near the three lakes – but comin' together seemed t'be the best way t'go, an' it's been workin' out real nice so far. We got a King an' everythin',” she added with a laugh. “But he ain't real stuffy like the kind in stories.”

Explaining New Caledonia and all the nuances that made it up seemed like a difficult task, but Daisy was willing to try. She was not as talented an orator as Gaia, nor as inclined to diplomacy as her brother, but chatter she could manage.

“There's a lotta craftspeople, an' traders. Some families, but just as many folk who found the place on their own – like I said before, comin' together an' all that. What kinda stuff are you into, Soliloquy?” His name sounded fun on her tongue, even if it was a long one. It didn't really lend itself to nicknames either – Solil sounded weird, and Oquy was equally silly.
It is better to light a single candle than to curse the darkness.
#9
Soliloquy had asked after the descriptions of many packs, but he still wasn't quite sure how serious he was about the idea of joining one. It would just be an experiment, just to see, but it was always easy to find reasons to pass each one by and to look on for the next one.

A big pack that used to have an "old" version of itself. There seemed to be a fair number of those: people who had run from someplace to another place, fleeing conflict or conquest or certain disaster. The hybrid was careful not to frown, but he washed the mud from his mare's neck slowly and thoughtfully. Instability was the way of the world. It was normal for a pack to need to move for one reason or another, but if they had enemies somewhere, did he really want to be a part of that?

And a king... well, he supposed a title was just a title. A king was the same as an alpha was the same as an aquila. They were all leaders whose words others were supposed to follow. The concept was honestly a little comforting to Soliloquy, who sort of liked the security of being able to defer to someone else's decision, though he would never admit to this. But what if the leader was a bad one? Who made unnecessary enemies or had unfair policies? Or worse, if they didn't at first, and did later, once everyone already sworn loyalty?

"What happened to Krokar? And Old Caledonia?" he asked after a beat, glancing at the woman again briefly before shifting to clean off Raindew's shoulders and body. "You don't have to explain if you don't want to though," he added quickly.

Maybe they didn't have enemies. Maybe it was only a flood or an earthquake that had scattered the two previous packs. But there would always be reasons not to join.

The hybrid smiled when his name rolled off his tongue. It was rare enough that someone bothered to try and say it. Other travelers and traders often defaulted to "hey, you" even once they knew his name. Fiction had only ever called him "Soli" (and for a brief time, "Lilo"). It was only Cassandra that had called him what she'd named him.

Z asked what he was "into" though, and at this, Soliloquy was at a loss. "I'm good with plants and herbs," he said hesitantly. This was the trade he'd been raised on, but was he "into" it? He was decent at setting traps, hunting medium-sized game, and tanning pelts. He liked to make up stories to entertain himself during endless travel, but paper was rare and he had never written any of them down. "What about you?"
#10
He didn't sound mean when he asked his questions, but Daisy thought he realized they were intrusive nonetheless. It didn't bother her as much – talking about what had happened to the greater whole was easier than explaining her own personal involvement in the matter.

Maybe, eventually, no one would think about the Omniscents at all. They could fade from memory and Daisy might be able to let those memories go. Every new stranger who learned about these events kept them alive. They would not die. At least this way, if she was able to speak the truth, the destruction might serve as a warning.

With this in mind, she told him. “Well, I'm not from Old Caledonia, but from what I know 'bout it there was a war. Big fight that forced all their clans – sorta like families, I guess – t'come t'gether. I guess things got real bad, though, 'cause they had t'abandon the place. There's not a lot of 'em left,” she added somberly.

“As far as Krokar goes, well, it ain't all gone. Some of it went down t'Portland, which is further south a'here, way past the mountain and the rivers, an' some came here. I'm from Krokar,” she announced. “Though I'm from New Caledonia now too.”

The more difficult answer came next. “A group of people preachin' 'bout the apocalypse came 'round and caused some trouble,” Daisy explained. “They started a big fire and did a lot of damage t'the land. Krokar ended up splittin' up t'make sure everyone could stay safe. There's been all sorts of trouble 'round here, though, so stickin' together helps with that.”

A sigh escaped Daisy, as if she had been holding her breath. Her expression loosened and turned more relaxed. “It's been all right fer a while, though. Just gotta watch out fer the earthquakes an' all the weird stuff an' you'll be all right! Me, I do a whole lotta stuff – I'm a Piscator, which means I fish, an' a Corsair, which means I do stuff on the water. I built a boat over the summer,” she boasted. “Think I'm gonna try buildin' another this year! But that's cool y'work with plants an' stuff, my ol' roomate makes dye with plants, an' I know a healer who's wicked smart when it comes t'herbs. Probably gonna be nice enough fer ya t'find some good stuff out there, if yer lookin' fer it.”

It is better to light a single candle than to curse the darkness.
#11
He washed his horse methodically while the woman explained the fates of the packs that had come before New Caledonia. In most areas, the mud came off easily enough, but other areas, particularly around the legs, required considerable pressure. Soliloquy wet the rag gingerly a few times, careful not to soak it so that the temperature would remain mild. Raindew shifted her feet often and shook her head a few times to emphasize her annoyance, but made no further attempts to evade the effort.

"I passed through Portland on my way here," the hybrid mentioned idly. "I didn't stay very long though."

The coastal town existed in a strange balance, with dense concentrations of Luperci in some areas and scattered vagrants claiming isolated shelters in other areas. Traders cloistered here and there, haggling with travelers and each other. It was the first time he'd encountered so many others in the same area. It had been his first time in such a place, and it'd made him nervous. He wished he could have been able to have the experience when his mother was still alive, or that his sister had chosen to stay just a little while longer.

"I'm glad things have improved," Soliloquy said gently. Others' stories always stirred in him a lot of different feelings he couldn't quite pin down, but the one he did recognise was gratitude -- his life so far was unconventional, for sure, but it had been relatively free of strife. He knew he was lucky.

"Roommate?" The hybrid cocked his head, uncertain of the term.
#12

Daisy nodded, not entirely surprised to hear that the traveler had come through Portland. It was relatively close, as she understood things. A place called Quebec lay somewhere to the northwest, but she had never ventured so far from home. The mountains were treacherous and the river got wider near its heart – without a boat and a lot of moxie, crossing the banks would be impossible. She didn't think a horse would make it across the river either. They were heavy animals not meant for the water.

“Yeah right? No apocalypse here! Just a few earthquakes, but that hasn't happened in a while. Ground gets real shaky,” Daisy explained, uncertain if Soliloquy would understand what she meant. “Knocked a buncha stuff down, so be careful if yer gonna camp out around any buildin's. Some of 'em ain't gonna be as solid as they look. There's a few places along the coast, back near where I live, if yer lookin' for somethin' like that. Otherwise there's some of past the south end of this mountain,” the dog indicated the distant peak of Mount Oromocto. “Bathurst – that's what they call the place next t'us – that's probably the closest if yer lookin' fer somethin' like that.”

No longer threatened by his presence, Daisy reclined and gave her shoulder a generous scratch with one of her back legs. She stood and shook herself out when she was done, but settled back onto her haunches. Exploring was fine and all, but talking to people was enjoyable.

Besides, Soliloquy was polite, even if he didn't say all that much.

“An' yeah – I guess housemate, maybe,” she amended. “We didn't share a room or nothin', haha,” the wolfdog laughed. “When we first started livin' in New Caledonia I shared a place with my brother an' sister, but they both moved t'different places. My friend Gaia ended up stayin' with me, and then her nephew Isadore came too. They're both really nice. Gaia makes dye with flowers and roots,” she added, thinking this might be interesting to an herbalist. “We got a whole studio where they do that kinda stuff, y'know, add color t'things. It's pretty neat.”


It is better to light a single candle than to curse the darkness.
#13
Soliloquy loved when others were chatty and open, eager to talk about themselves and their lives; he loved to listen, but inevitably he felt guilty that he had little to contribute to the conversation. While unconventional, he often thought that his own life was uninteresting and mundane. There had been no disasters or invasions or complex political dramas -- the worst of his family's troubles had been basic and simple: finding food in the winter, finding shelter, keeping their distance from those who might upend what they had.

Perhaps it was simply the peace of living outside of packs, after all? A lack of allegiance meant they had no one's troubles but their own. He had been fortunate, but that made him boring.

"A few earthquakes? They're common here, then?" he asked, somewhat concerned. He'd heard of the phenomenon before, but never experienced it. His mother had suspected that they were less common further inland, then mused that it was also possible that this particular peninsula was merely cursed -- though he wasn't quite on the peninsula yet. "I haven't been around human ruins as dense as the ones here before," he admitted. Tall buildings were a strange sight, even if they were now only half the height they used to be -- Soliloquy couldn't fathom that they might have been bigger, once.

He nodded at her explanation of housemates. He supposed it made sense that in a pack, unrelated members might share a dwelling. They were all related by virtue of being in the same pack, right? Was that how it worked?

"That is neat," he agreed, then added: "I met a fellow once who liked to keep himself dyed green. His whole body. Seems like a lot of work, huh?"

It was only a small fib. Cloverfield had liked to dye a bit of his hair fringe green and had complained about it all the time because it was difficult to maintain, but it was a better story for someone to be all green, wasn't it? He wished he had more to say.

"Do you know of any old abandoned cabins in the woods anywhere?"

Was that really what he wanted though?
#14

“I dunno,” Daisy said plainly. “They didn't happen when I was a kid, and they don't happen all the time neither. As far as the – whatchya called 'em, human ruins,” she repeated the term back to ensure he understood the same cities she meant. “There's actually a really big one down by the other coast. If y'keep headin' southeast, and keep t'the south side of the mountain, you'll find it. Land curves back around,” she tried to explain, uncertain if he could visualize the land as she remembered it.

The earthquakes, unbeknownst to Daisy, had changed much of the landscape. She had heard that a mountain had fallen into the sea but wasn't sure if she believed such a thing. Going all the way to Halifax would no doubt be a several-day journey, and travel in winter was miserable. If there was nothing but mud to the north, undoubtedly the south would be no better.

Daisy wagged her tail in delight as her succinct companion mentioned his green-furred friend. “Yeah, I believe it! Some of the gals who work in the shop get dye on their fur. Gaia – that's who I was tellin' y'about,” she paused to explain. “Always wears gloves, she's got a whole thing about gettin' it on her fur an' hair, which is funny because she's always workin' in the dirt an' mud. The guy who set the whole thing up is kinda like that too, though, but he's real fancy like.”

“Anyhow,”
the wolfdog continued. “As far as cabins go, y'might have some around th' river east'a here. That's where I'd look. Y'like fishin', Soliloquy? I bet you'd have good luck down there.”

She paused. Daisy felt the incident with the bear was still fresh, but her own embarrassment over the incident was overshadowed by the importance of warning a not-quite stranger to the dangers he may face. “Keep an eye out fer bears, though. They're probably gonna start wakin' up, an' they're real hungry this early. I think they live 'round mountains, so be careful an' keep an eye out on yer foodstuffs.”
It is better to light a single candle than to curse the darkness.
#15
wow soli is such a loser, lmao



There had been plenty of talk on the road about a large variety of devastating phenomenon. The story of the mountains falling into the sea seemed to get more fantastical every time he heard it, but it seemed clear that the tale had been passed around a fair bit already -- he certainly hadn't heard a (credible) first-hand account, at least. But he also wasn't sure what the benchmark for "impossible" was. How could he judge whether it was the truth from other's tellings?

He'd heard enough about earthquakes from enough people that they seemed like a sure thing, but even with all the testimonies, the idea that the solid earth beneath their feet could crumble and shake as strongly as the stories said seemed so strange and implausible. He could imagine it well enough, but the vision he held in his head felt the same as a dream. Soliloquy preferred to see things for himself before he professed true belief, but he did not actually want to experience what had been described to him.

The hybrid nodded at the woman's description of the land, extending his mental map of the area accordingly. He had a crude scrap of a map he'd traded for, but it was worn and old, and he'd already encountered several areas where it didn't quite match.

"Fishing's okay," he answered truthfully. "I'm better at basket fishing than line fishing... but it's probably because I'm not patient enough." He smiled weakly.

He liked the meditative process of making baskets and traps in general, and of course it was always nice to be able to leave and return to a meal ready. Checking traps and baskets gave a different sort of thrill to active hunting, and while he did well enough at chasing down small game and fowl, live fishing was not something he'd spent as much time doing.

Soliloquy hesitated a moment, then asked tentatively, with an obvious bit of embarrassment, "Bears are pretty big, right?"

He had never encountered one before and only knew of them from one of his mother's stories, where she'd helped an Infernian kill one. He thought he remembered her mentioning that that one had been young, but it had been a story she'd told them as children to warn of one of the world's many dangers, and of course, as a pup, all creatures were much bigger than he. It wasn't a reliable source for scale.
#16
guess u better have him experience some character building moments then :)))
I feel like we could probably wrap this up soon?

Daisy smiled to show she wasn't offended by his comments. Fishing for her was a lifestyle but not one for every Luperci – in the same way that there were different things to believe in, there were routes which folk followed that differed from her own. Most wolves chose to hunt as their ancestors had done for eons. Some had taken this to new places, keeping animals to consume.

The lakes and rivers and ocean to where all waters flowed were full of food too. As long as those who took from these places remembered to thank those responsible for what they look, there would always be fish.

She didn't know what kind of person Soliloquy really was. He might have taken joy in slaughter and bloodshed. For some reason, Daisy didn't really get that impression from him. Compared to many of the terrible people in the world, a simple traveler looking after his horse didn't seem like a bad man at all.

Her expression turned a little more serious as she tried to recall the details about the bear.

“Yeah, kinda – I mean, it was bigger than I am right now,” she explained, and stood up so he could understand. “Like I said they're mostly hungry, they don't usually mess with people. Sometimes yellin' is all y'gotta do t'scare 'em off. If y'do end up campin' near New Caledonia an' run inta any trouble, y'can call fer help. Our City Watch won't say no t'helpin' someone out, even if y'aren't part of the pack. Just don't leave any food out,” she added, and winked again while her tail wagged.

It is better to light a single candle than to curse the darkness.
#17
ya we can wrap this!



"Thanks," he said, nodding. "I appreciate the warning."

Soliloquy was confident in his ability to take care of himself for the most part. When it came down to it, there were few things he couldn't outrun or outlast. A meal was an easy sacrifice in the end. If he needed to defend his horse or his goods, he would, but neither were so important to him that he'd risk his life for them. He didn't like going on the offensive, but there was an instinct to survive that even his mild manners couldn't hold back.

If someone else was aiming to kill, it was only appropriate to reciprocate.

"Don't let me keep you," the hybrid added suddenly, the thought only just occurring to him. "If I end up near your pack, I'll be sure to visit."



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