tonight, boys, we're eating like kings

new territory exploration

POSTED: Tue Oct 20, 2015 4:45 am

Desert of snoW

After getting settled in, the next thing on Urho's list was to venture out to get a good lay of the land, having been avoiding the borders he could see while he was on his way through the area as a loner, for fear of being ambushed by locals. Now, he had the potential to be one of those locals, so knowing where to spot any potential threat was something he had to keep in mind. However, there was quite a bit of territory to explore, it seemed. For now, taking small swaths at a time was much more achievable and kept him in the inner parts of the lands.

It was getting colder, he could feel it. It felt like home to him, really, with the familiar biting wind shaking at his fur. The bark was much worse than the bite to him, however. This land didn't have that ice he was used to, nothing that bit hard enough for it to send shivers down his spine. As much as he missed the feeling of home, Urho knew there wasn't much for him back in the Great White North. Here, in the Far West, that was where he was to be — he could feel it in his bones even while they creaked as they carried him across the terrain, with the relief of the burden lightened by keeping his pack at the cottage he'd holed up in.

The smell of apples wafted to his nose, the notion of food leading him off the path he had been on and gravitating him towards an orchard of sorts, seeing apples on the ground and a few still clinging to their trees. Picking one up, Urho gave it a whiff, turning his nose away. That one was definitely no good, but maybe some of the ones still attached to the trees held a bounty, he figured as he dropped it back on the ground. He scratched at his chest, still uncovered as the weather still felt too warm for his single shirt.

The smell of apples brought back memories of cider and mead, his mouth watering at the thought of the opportunity to taste them on his tongue again. Mead had been his favorite, practically worshiping the bees for their golden treasure they brought to the locals. Some had called him a bear for being so attracted to the taste of honey and laughed at the irony, for Urho really did have that ursine build to him. The Finn ignored their teasing, happy with sweet taste of honey and the memory still potent in his head.

Maybe the orchard could use a hive, he thought to himself while he attempted to reach one of the tree-borne apples. They would pollinate the flowers in the spring, bringing plenty of apples around. However, he knew next to nothing about keeping bees beyond the fact that they needed a hive and smoke kept them calm. Being stung didn't bother him, but not knowing what he was doing was something that would set him on a path to failure if he didn't seek more knowledge on the subject.

up to two others, pls! apple orchard. this post is all over the place and i'm so sorry for any weirdness cause it's suuuper late | [wc — 522] template by hilli
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Salsola
The Confidant (NPC)
User avatar
Titmouse
Luperci

POSTED: Wed Oct 21, 2015 7:15 pm

(500) ♥ i tried to make as few assumptions as possible; also, i'm bringing these back

In direct contrast to their most recent conversation of any real substance, Osrath was trying — insofar as she was capable — to find equal footing on which to stand with the man to whom she’d recently become affiancéd.

A childhood spent in and around the home their Boss shared with Stannis (a man she was not terribly close to but did, to some degree, regard as her father) had shown her a rarely seen side of the jade-eyed Queen, one where domestic harmony was feasible despite their difference in rank. Providing a solid, united front had been important to them, and the young horsewoman was determined to do much the same for the silver and gold children they would one day have.

This began with a ride from Marrgerd to Grimrun on Róta. In the same begrudging sense that followed the blonde heir-apparent whenever she enjoyed anything to do with other people, Osrath found herself in a pleasant mood as they rode and spoke of inconsequential things; the future, perhaps, or (briefly) of politics. There was no more talk of her brother, and she staunchly refused to mention the Other women from beyond the borders. This was as much out of spite as it was politeness. More so, even.

When dallying around the stables had worn away at the Commander’s permanently frayed nerves, she’d suggested they continue to the expanded territories. Beyond the barbed wire fence lay the Blackwoods, a dark and forbidding place where the roots and branches were as twisted as her family tree. The pack hunt notwithstanding, she had never seen him use his bow as more than an ornamental piece, and some small girlish part of her wanted to see him perform the duties of the eternal hunter.

With the adept touch of an expert rider she led them on a plodding path where the wire gave way to deciduous forest and then north again, focused as much on the path ahead as she was the arch of the silver Andalusian’s neck. Thinking as many things as there were grains of sand on any given beach, her eyes widened slightly at the sight of someone already lingering among the low eaves. Had he not been built similarly to a bear, the Ranger may have ignored him and pressed on toward Salsola’s new hunting grounds, but curiosity turned the horse’s course as much as her gentle pull on the reins did.

Newcomers were no longer the strange sight they’d once been; her own charge, the Silevue girl, was one such young woman, and this man carried the distinct look of someone who’d been hit over the head with a branch and carted off to a strange land.

Approaching at a brisk trot, she avoided those limbs that were particularly low — Lokr was, after all, taller than she was — and avoided them as a seaman would avoid oncoming waves. A too-bright smile was the only indication that she might not be as friendly as she seemed, but her purple dress and fringed cloak bespoke of wealth and status, as did her companion.

Hello stranger, The Eternity greeted, raising a hand from the pommel of her saddle. it's a bit cold for a walk, no?

Salsola
The Gamekeeper (NPC)
User avatar
Lorraine
Luperci Cavalleria, Vaquera
vitriolic

POSTED: Wed Oct 28, 2015 1:34 am

hark that warning whisper in your heart

Osrath had taken to the betrothal with a determination he had not anticipated. In truth, their last conversation had led Lokr to believe that the young woman would remain her sullen, contemptuous self around him always; Which would have been a miserable companionship, to be sure, but at the least it would have given Lokr a suitable excuse to be permanently absent from her side.

Instead, the vigor with which the golden-haired royal suddenly began to invest in their betrothal had unsettled him, and forced him frequently into close consorts with her. Today was such a day - Osrath had been adamant that they would take a ride, and hapless to resist under the menacing eyes of the Queen (and at a lack of other, more obvious duties to stall her) the Lord Commander had little choice but to oblige.

To an Outsider, their private whimsy might have actually seemed like the dalliances of two people in love. Courtship was such a display, after all; And if their affections were not so obvious, well, didn't that only serve to make them respectful?

It might have been the truth, once, when Osrath was a girl and Lokr a true gentleman. But it was not.

At Grimrun, he had made to saddle Iskra. But Osrath had poignantly declared Róta still fresh enough for them both, and the mare's Andalusian blood had made her solid, and strong; And they weren't to go far, she said, and when she smiled her teeth were brilliant and white. Somehow, Lokr had found himself trapped behind her on the horse, with nothing to hold on to but the slender curve of her waist - And Osrath was a much better rider than he, and he could have sworn that she took the corners fast on purpose.

As it was, he was rather glad when the young woman became distracted. To the path ahead of them, where the sweet and cloying smell of rotting apples grew thicker, was a bear - Or, rather, a bear man, for his scent was luperci even where his immense size was not. More importantly, his scent told them that he was new, and that he was theirs - There had been a few episodes of strangers in the northernmost territory, where the scent borders were not yet distinct enough to ward them away.

Jostled by the trotting of the mare, and thoroughly, reluctantly trapped by his situation, Lokr glowered at the man from behind Osrath's windswept golden hair. He did not echo the young woman's greeting, but instead sat a little taller on the mare's back, and unconsciously fixed his dark claws a little more possessively about her waist.

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slithered here from Eden

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Alaine
Luperci /
wrath of the north
a voice in the deep

POSTED: Thu Oct 29, 2015 6:15 am

Desert of snoW

Urho was nowhere near light enough to attempt to climb the trees, for fear of either falling and hurting himself or even possibly breaking the trees under his weight. Instead, he tried to shove the trunk, hoping he could shake the apples from their branches and force them to fall. The sight really did make him look like a bear, desperately trying to wring the fruits from their perches but even bears likely had better climbing ability than he did. Nothing fell for him though and he backed up with a huff, staring intently at the forbidden fruit dangling above him.

However, the sound of a horse provided for a much more interesting distraction, with a pair mounted on the back — no doubt other members as one of them waved a greeting to him. "Hello!" he greeted back with a grin, pulling up on his belt to make sure his pants didn't threaten to fall like the apples. "Ha! I know of no such cold here. If it was too cold for me, these trees would have frozen over and there would be no apples for anyone! Good thing it isn't."

He waddled over closer to the horse while still keeping a good distance from it, not wanting to come out with a red hoof mark on his skin. He didn't notice the dark male's possessiveness at all, having kept himself at an odd angle and unable to see the hands tighten anyway. "It doesn't matter anyway. It's too late in the season for this harvest, unfortunately — at least, for me." He laughed, scratching at his nose. "I have no way to reach any of the ones above, lest I injure the trees. The poor things don't deserve that."

Turning to the couple themselves, Urho offered a friendly bow. "Forgive me if I don't know your names — I'm still somewhat green, as they like to say. Urho Rask." A pause settled for a moment. "Associate," he added afterwards, remembering his title.

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Salsola
The Confidant (NPC)
User avatar
Titmouse
Luperci

POSTED: Sun Nov 22, 2015 9:31 pm

(300)

Urho was a man nearly as wide as he was tall; even her uncle Basilaris was not quite so portly, though she would never have mistaken the northern foreigner for being anything but muscular. It was there in the way he carried himself, like a man who was perfectly aware of his ursine appearance and how, exactly, that was meant to be used. Osrath, on the other hand — skilled though she was with animals — mistook this man for being a soldier of some skill, and not the craftsman he was.

Reaching until her ribs threatened to pop from their allocated place within her skeletal system, an apple remained within touching distance, but her mother’s height was not a boon she’d been gifted with. Still, her extended claws grazed the bottom of it, and it wobbled just a touch on the gnarled limb it protruded from. Fruit in general was not a staple of the golden heir apparent’s diet (though she was, like so many Salsolans, an omnivore), but Lowe liked the sweet morsels. Many horses, it seemed, like things from fruit trees or the ground.

Maximo, for instance — he so enjoyed the incredibly rare carrots that could occassionally be found protruding from the ground. Here and there one of the orange vegetables could be pulled, a remnant of those who had lived and died here.

Settling back into the saddle, her tyrian purple silks lay in such a way that she found herself irritated; while fixing them, Róta shuffled sideways away from the tree, unsure what to make of all the odd movements. Skilled hunter though Lokr was, she mistrusted his skill with horses and pushed one hand to the pommel of her decorative saddle. Osrath Eternity, She introduced herself shortly, laying a hand over the spiral necklace that dangled from her neck. daughter of the Boss and Ranger Apprentice. All of these things were important for different reasons. Have you been here long, Urho?

Her smile was placid, like the the glassy surface of a deep, cold lake.

Trusting that the serpentine Revlisson could speak for himself, she did not deign to introduce him. He’d been relatively quiet thus far, but everything about the juxtaposition of her limbs invited him into the conversation, not wanting to leave it to the Associate and herself to carry it.

Those who may have doubted her worth as an adolescent or chided her for her tempestuousness had now been quelled in the face of everything that had happened recently.

Salsola
The Gamekeeper (NPC)
User avatar
Lorraine
Luperci Cavalleria, Vaquera
vitriolic

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