You can't let this get away

POSTED: Mon May 21, 2018 4:54 pm

She had only been here a few weeks and already, being in a pack favored the young woman. She had put on weight, enough so that she didn't look as if she were malnourished but not so much that it showed, her dislike of manual labor that wasn't working on the things she loved like drawing and producing maps.

Julia was perched against the wall of the hallway that led to the library, one of her feet on the worse for wear boards that had long since been peeled of its wallpaper or the shabby railing that had gone through the area, something she only caught hint of with the shabby metal brackets that were rusted and bent inwards to keep the packs people from cutting or injuring themselves.

Beside her, an old window devoid of glass let in a constant stream of light that bounced from the wall across from her, showering the area in a cascade of shadows and illuminating the dust particles that pilfered through the air unintelligibly, occasionally catching her attention enough that her off colored eyes turned in their direction, mistaken for a shadow or the possible presence of another canine.

When she found nothing, her eyes generally fell back to the floor where she stared lazily at the curve of the claws of her feet as they brushed the floor and occasionally caught a sliver of wood from the wall behind her that she was careful not to score. Idly, her fingers curled at the makeshift paper, careful to tuck it between her arms so it didn't fall as she grabbed hold of the box that held her charcoal pencils from the window sill where she'd placed it.

It was fortunate she had moved next door to a novice leather worker. One step was all it took to shift between parchment and leather it didn't cost as much in a barter for what she needed than it would have if she had gone outside the pack in search of the material. One of the three had already been used, a test of her skill as an artist. When she thought about it, she felt heat flush to her face and she quickly shook the thought from her head with a light stamp of her foot and a gratuitous sigh, leaning closer to the wall as her foot against the wall came down to settle against the floor along with her other.

[ooc: Located in the hallway outside of the Chien Hotel Library]

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POSTED: Mon May 28, 2018 12:03 am

Some part of Pascal must have braced him for the worst when he followed his father’s letter back to the Court. He would have known that the death of his family and friends would be a possibility, or that he might have found them in exile, but in the end what he did find was something he couldn’t have prepared himself for.

And so he lingered, indecisive, and watched his pack mates build and cared for his father the best he could. He dared not leave Silvano alone. He dared not leave his siblings alone.

He was waiting, but he did not recognize this for what it was quite yet.

When he was not with family, Pascal spent his time organizing information and writing down reports. He still wanted an almanac that the Court could refer to, and the recent conflict was a piece of history no one should forget. Between drafts of this – because he could not quite find the words – he noted minor things like building progress or the details of their trade in Portland. For these, he employed Percival’s help.

A jack-of-all trades, the lurcher was happy to shadow Pascal. His spelling was improving, and he had a knack for sussing out detail. He ran errands for the librarian where he could, and this brought him running down the hall of the hotel with a book and folder in his arms.

He skittered to a stop when he spotted Julia, and grinned at her shyly.

“Writing?“ Percy asked, shifting his goods to one arm so he could mime the activity with one finger tracing the air. He tipped his head toward the doorway. ”Do you want to go into the library? It has…“ He trailed away, struggling to figure out how to proceed with the concept. Most questions and phrases were simple enough to get across with body language.

Pascal looked up from where he was at a desk, poring over notes, and seemed to see Percival struggling. He rose and came to the doorway, peering around to spot Julia, and huffed softly.

“Chairs and stuff,” finished Percy lamely.

<You’ll hurt your back out here,> Pascal signed a little more fluidly, his pantomiming involving the wall she leaned upon and a gesture and twist of his own spine.
the saddest song all caught in the briars

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Luperci Chandler, Librarian
tale as old as time
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