Where There's No Sunshine


POSTED: Thu Jun 13, 2019 10:42 pm

ooc: open for anyone! 8D

The arrow made a satisfying thunk as it embedded itself into the tree trunk, the shaft protruding dead center of the hastily carved circle he had made in the middle. Tamlin’s golden head tilted, assessing his handiwork for any improvements that could be made to his accuracy, before beginning his walk towards the oak tree. He wasn’t far outside Amherst when he decided to do a bit of target practice, a feeling of restlessness overcoming him. It had been hard to find a suitable distraction from his own thoughts of late, and he had set out alone to the lands in the East. Too late he had remembered that it had been the very trek he had taken to retrieve Fennore and bring her to New Caledonia, but he had done his best to keep his resolve, choosing instead to alter his route to bring forth unfamiliar landmarks.

He wasn’t the first man to be rejected by a pretty woman, and he needed to stop acting a fool and get over it.

The exercise of traveling to a new location had been sufficient at first, and when that had failed he had turned to his archery to entertain himself. Perhaps it had been a mistake to leave without his golden eagle or horse to accompany him, but he had thought that practicing scouting without them he would have presented with more of a challenge… Now he just missed Sabriel’s broken dialogue, and the calm brown eyes of the buckskin. Maybe you’re just looking for an excuse to be melancholy, he thought to himself, prying the arrow from the tree and walking back to a fallen log where he had settled his belongings. The summer sun was shining prettily, and the birdsong rang out in the happy calls of warblers. By all accounts, it was a lovely day.

The Sunwarden sat down upon the log, tying up his long red hair into a ponytail as he stared quite determinedly at the ground. He most certainly wasn’t going to return home until he could acknowledge the beauty of the Nova Scotia summer and quit acting the part of a sullen teenager.

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POSTED: Fri Jun 21, 2019 2:19 am

OOC: Hello!

In a futile attempt to clear his head, Greed headed away from the small group he called his home. The tower cast a shadow at his back, stretching far outwards to reach him, begging him to stay. He ignored the call and soon the shadow disappeared and eventually so did the tower that cast it.

Greed traveled for some time, hoping to pick up the trail of hearty prey, but instead found the familiar sound of arrows clashing into a healthy tree. Someone was practicing their archery nearby. His nose lifted to scent the air, not finding the musk of the opposing male to be a familiar one. Good. Greed needed interactions with those who didn't know him, those would would not be able to see past his appeasing mask and into the darkness behind his eyes.

The umber Quill pushed some branches out of his path as he pushed through the surrounding trees. The first thing that caught his eye was the bright orange of the canine's locks even though they were tied back. Greed's disposition was non-threatening with his tail swaying loosely behind him and his ears sitting relaxed atop his own coffee ground waves. While he did not have his own bow and arrow about his person, he had Enenra(Wakizashi) and Onryo(Katana) at his side, as well as his precious dagger. It would be clear he was approaching by the loud clang of his weapons against one another as he walked.

Yo! Greed called out upon entering the other canine's space, once it would be obvious he was making an entrance. The Lykoi man let his pack fall to one shoulder as he came closer, his other hand relaxed at his side. I couldn't help but catch the melody of steel against wood as I was walking. I hope you don't mind my lack of control over my own curiosity. As always, a brilliant smile splayed across the Lykoi man's face. Always he would charm his way into others' lives.
The Family
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Luperci Bound by blood, never alone.
We still believe

POSTED: Fri Jun 21, 2019 11:12 pm

OOC: Me when someone joins my AW 8D

He had been debating nocking another arrow when the metallic sound of approaching Luperci hit him. Instinctively he had reached for another, for the first clang of it had him back in Caledonia, with soldiers coming over the horizon. Even as he could smell the smoke in his nostrils it faded, his hand drifting back downwards as an amiable greeting came carried to his ears. The well-dressed man was not outfitted as one of the Destroyers who had come upon his homeland, nor were his weapons made in their fashion—most pointedly, he wore a smile, the type to set another at ease. Immediately Tamlin relaxed, for would he not also have gone to investigate such a phenomenon? His own smile returned to Greed wasn’t half as charismatic, but it was friendly nonetheless.

“What Luperci can resist?” His response was lighthearted, though he was a bit disappointed to see that the stranger himself didn’t carry a bow as well. The metal at his side appeared to be some manner of sword, though their appearance didn’t mirror the fashion of his homeland. Had he been more acquainted with that form of weaponry, he might have studied them closer; as it was, he was only educated enough on their manner to note that they were there and somehow different. “Not a fan of arrows yourself?” The Anor queried, looking down at his own Caledonian bow as he spoke, considering fixing it to his belongings but deciding to leave it for later. The Sunwarden had a dagger for himself as well, but it seemed always in its sheath, unless he needed to make a finishing blow during a hunt.

He debated standing to greet the stranger, but as far as he could tell the customs of ‘Soulsland varied widely, and there was no accounting for what traditions this one would hold. In a moment of decisiveness he did so, for he thought the danger of being overly formal to be less than that of rudeness. “I’m Tamlin Anor,” he offered, his honest face not so demanding as to ask Greed’s own name. If the man would offer it, he would gladly take it, but he was content to take the time to assess the newcomer. He was tall enough, perhaps more muscular than himself, but those features seemed unimportant in the presence of Greed’s disarming grin.

WC: 393

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