Berry-flavoured clouds

Shaamah!

POSTED: Mon Apr 02, 2018 3:46 pm

Jura had hit the jackpot. All around her feet grew the young sprigs of fake solomons seal. Now that spring had finally sprung, and some of the snow had left with winter, Jura had decided that a trip out of the Vale was due. She'd strapped her pot (which she was growing increasingly attached to) on her back and shifted to her secui form, ready to get going. Now, as the noon sun trickled through the bare branches of the Miramachi Valley's forest, she was in awe at the bounty before her.

The snowy female switched to her optime form quick as she could, eager to try some of false solomons seal before her. Where the sun reached, more of the young shoots seemed good for picking. Jura stooped down to pick one and inspected it, twizzling it between digits. It had been an age since she'd seen these particular plants and their taste brought back memories of home where they were prized for their sweetness in stew. Jura smiled to herself and began to undo the knot holding her copper pot to her back, eager to harvest some to take home.
Last edited by Jura on Mon May 28, 2018 9:50 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Mistfell Vale
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POSTED: Mon Apr 02, 2018 4:23 pm

He had visited the old campsites that they had cleared of enemies back around the end of the kidnapping spree that they'd fought against. There were still a few bits and pieces there that were of value. Metal to melt down from broken pieces, a chain that had been grown over and hidden from view, and few small metal pots that fit into one another. From there, the soldier had continued on the path that he had taken once before, with two eyes in his skull. The front of the main caverns were bare from pickings, but the deeper he had gone, the more worth while pieces he could find while scavenging. More broken metal, the chains that had bound the kidnapped, weapons and cooking utensils. In the darkness of the cavern, his blue eye caught something they'd easily missed before. Behind a few broken bits of wall and underneath and overturned table, there was a small bag. Opening it found him with a handful of dried herbs. Sapient would be pleased with that. He, of course, wouldn't offer them over until the next Venenum Testis, to ensure that they were safe to consume.

Shaamah's knapsack was nearly full to it's brim as it hung tautly over his shoulder with the weight that it bore. It had been a few days travel of moving between the different sights, but as he crossed the Frost reached and neared Mount Oromocto, he took a right, rather than heading back to Sapient. He could still gather a few things while he was out and about, and he was close enough to make it home by nightfall and still have time to get the goods he found to where they belong within the storage, kitchen or stable areas.

As he moved quietly among the increasing counts of berries that riddled the forest, he caught wind of an unfamiliar scent. Whiffing a few times, the soldier looked around. His pastel snout told him what his eyes couldn't see. There was a stranger here, either lurking, or simply performing tasks as the last rouge he'd come upon. Not only this, but the soldier was well aware of a new pack that had been formed to the east. He'd not seen any of them yet, nor knew their scent or people, but that was likely to change this month. With a more wary step now, he moved with more caution through the trees. This wasn't close enough to Sapient to be suspicious, but the lacking trust of the silent soldier still claimed him.

Even as he aimed to move quietly, the contents of his knapsack jingled and clanked, and in his attempt to correct it, his blind side was made greater by the turn of his head. Stepping full weight on a small, rotten branch, the thing crumbled and cracked. Turning down, the soldier inspected his mistake, and surveyed the area, seeking for anyone, or anything for that matter, to pop up out of the bushes at the noise he was unintentionally making.


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POSTED: Mon Apr 02, 2018 5:36 pm

Not many of the patch she'd found were old enough to be harvested, and she wasn't the only creature around, so Jura picked about half of what was ready, a sizeable bundle, and left the rest. Well, nothing to be done about that until she found somewhere to wash it off. Deciding to venture into the forest further, Jura looked down at her pot. She couldn't strap it back onto her shoulder, all the shoots would fall out, and it would be just plain annoying to carry it about by the handles. Jura picked up the rope she'd used before and threaded it through the handles and then looped it over her neck so that the pot settled against her hip. Not the comfiest solution, but it would do.

As the female stood up straight again, a noise pricked her ears. She held still, straining to hear the faint tinkling of metal. it was coming from the opposite direction of the wind so the couldn't catch a scent, although they could most likely have caught hers. She felt herself grow tense. Was the other purposefully hiding or had he not noticed her? A creak and snap of a broken branch let her pinpoint the strangers direction and she swivelled, minding the berries at her feet, to face the newcomer.

Although her sight of him was obscured mostly by the hulking trunk of a fallen tree, she could make out a dark-furred male in his optime form, carrying a bag and looking around. He didn't seem to see her, she was most likely hidden by the rotting tree, but neither was he attempting to make contact. Narrowing her eyes, Jura moved into the male's line of sight and looked straight at him.

"Well, hi! I didn't see you there!" she called, fighting to keep any sarcasm from her tone. Jura was unsure what to make of the secretive male but content to let him know she was certainly aware of his presence. She took several steps towards him, a hand on her pot to stop it swinging around.
Last edited by Jura on Fri May 25, 2018 10:57 am, edited 1 time in total.
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POSTED: Fri Apr 06, 2018 11:41 pm

Shaamah

WC: 305

Shaamah's crown turned sharply on his neck, the pupil of his left eye was naught but a pin prick and dark ears leaned forward, gripping the sound of the stranger that seemed to come from nowhere. The soldier could chalk it up to the stranger being on his blind-side, but he wouldn't dare. It was his carelessness that had him surprised. Searching eye trailed up and down her form, eyeing the pot for a moment before taking in the sight of her as she neared. It was simple enough. Her hands caked with color and a pot at her side, she was likely foraging.

It took a moment for his body to turn to face her to follow suit with his face, and as he did, he met her goldenrod gaze. He was stacking her up in his mind, and the calculation in his eye would speak weight against the fact that he was looking her up for a potential mate. No, he was making sure that she wasn't an enemy, despite her friendly words,” Shaamah, Opus Summus of Sapient,” He spoke carefully, introducing himself to the woman. Hopefully, she might get the idea and return the notion back.

“Gathering?” Mentioning the pot at her hip, he questioned her being there without his truer intentions being foretold. He was not like most of Sapient's crew, far more lacking in trust and the finer aspects of social class. The soldier did, however, have his pack's interests in his every intention when he was in the neutral territories. There was a special attention to those that roamed, since Shaamah had come back from the camps and caverns from their past kidnapping affair. Sure, peace had settled in, but a warrior like Shaamah wasn't so ready to accept it quiet yet.

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POSTED: Thu Apr 12, 2018 1:03 pm

The male didn't turn towards her immediately, although he was sure to meet her eyes when he did. The male was pretty heavily scarred, especially around the eye. He dwarfed her, as most canines around seemed to, and did not seem at all welcoming with his assessing gaze. He introduced himself gruffly as Shaamah and told her his rank, not that she knew what it meant. His pack name snagged her attention though. She was pretty sure that she'd met a few others from Sapient, Sabrael and, now that she could identify the scent, Brandy as well.

Shaamah guessed at what she had been doing, although she guessed it was pretty obvious from her bounty in her pot. She flashed him a quick smile and nodded. "Yup, you guessed right. I found a little batch of false solomon's seal just over there," she explained tilting her head back in the direction she came from. She honestly didn't know why she was being so talkative, but she still felt a bit miffed at his stealth earlier and seemed to be overcompensating.

"I'm Jura, an Elkenfrey of Mistfell Vale." She'd noted the male's tense posture but refused to mimic it at least outwardly. "What brought you to this neck of the woods, Shaamah?" the snowy female asked, glancing at his chock-a-block bag.
Last edited by Jura on Fri May 25, 2018 10:59 am, edited 1 time in total.
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POSTED: Sat May 05, 2018 6:59 am

An amiable attempt had been made, and it softened the tensions that grew once without bearing in Shaamah's distrustful soul. It seemed, in revealing Shaamah and his claim and assuming her task, Jura of Mistfell Vale had unveiled herself. Mistfell Vale was a pack that Sapient had no relation to, as of yet. He'd not met a single member, until now. With the potential of allies and further politics that refused him his better judgment, he carried on with less outward tension. Hackles subdued. All edge was taken from his tune. A Sapien of less abrasive quality emerged from him, though his inward calculating would remain. It would be a fool's errand to drop his guard in neutral territories, by any means.

A shifting bag strap on his shoulder had him lift the thing with an upward motion of one shoulder,” Gathering goods for Sapient's stores. With the spring, items cast aside in the snow are revealed,” It was a vague enough statement, but it was likely the woman didn't want to hear, and probably shouldn't hear, what and from where he gathered from. Not only that, but it was so various a span of this and thats. There was no category for it all. With this encounter, Shaamah bettered his future route to take his chances leaving the last inches of his bag bare. If the contents were seen, it might look as if he, himself, was the very slavers that he had plucked a graveyard clean of.

“Elkenfrey,” Shaamah didn't toil much with the word, but it was just as empty to him as Sapient's ranks were to her. A soldier heeded his mind to alter the conversation direction,” What sort of class does that fall in?” The inquiry became more direct, and more direct still,” Opus Summus is a high cast in Sapient's warrior tier,” Giving description to his own title might offset any confusion she might have with it, since the woman seemed the sort of conversation and Shaamah seemed the sort to gather information for Sapient on a pack in the north with trade potential.


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