The ol' one two

- Honrin

POSTED: Thu Sep 05, 2019 1:01 pm

The lakes were aglow with the low hanging afternoon sun. Greed had been at work since morning to complete his end of the deal. This type of work was a nice change of pace that required no violence or hardships. He was actually enjoying himself. His knife stroked upwards, opposite from the fur on the hide of a deer. By now, their camp was finely dusted in fur from at least three different types of animals. Banshee had been sure to collect her share of the fur for whatever she intended to use them for. The Quill couldn't help cocking a brow at her as she came to fill yet another wooden vile with more fur.

Greed took a break, tongue lulling out as he stretched his muscles. What are you going to do with all that? Banshee smiled, giggling in a low, creepy, tone as she wrapped the vile in leather for storage. That's a family secret. Greed's expression grew more puzzled as Banshee sauntered away, tail swaying in a taunting manner. We are family!! Lykoi, remember!? She didn't bother to answer, simply waving a hand at him as she entered her tent. She was a strange soul. Her sister was on a different level entirely. Greed couldn't help but wonder what happened in their youth that Greed didn't know about that made them so...weird.

Shaking his head, Greed got back to work finishing off the last hide for his trade. When he was done, he lumbered over to the fire before the tower. He tossed a couple more logs in before he sat down upon one of the carved logs, his caboose nestling perfectly within the shallow spot. Work was done, so he unlatched his leather flask and took a sip of the sweet moonshine within. Amber orbs gazed over at all the hide he prepared for Honrin, proud of his honest work. This was yet another occurrence that helped him to realize how tired he was of life as a loner, and life as a warrior. Soon, everything would change. For now, he would do his best to lock in The Order's relationships with surrounding packs and bands to assure them a successful future.
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Luperci Bound by blood, never alone.
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POSTED: Thu Sep 12, 2019 12:43 pm

Word Count → 000 ::

Even in days busy and fraught with the endless grinding of gears, Honrin could still find the time to engage himself in his various hobbies. The lute often found its way into his routine, and he was sure the horses and sheep at least appreciated his musical talent. Guinevere at least would wake up to him singing sometimes.

Resheph allowed herself to be easily tacked today and Honrin thanked his blessings for small mercies. They were getting there, slowly, although Honrin suspected she'd never be the war horse that Artan was.

Saddlebags laden with his side of the trade. Even just leaving Casa for something that wasn't labor or pack stuff was a change of scenery he looked forwards to.

Horse and rider trotted out of the Fort, eventually emerging from those tree encompassed lands that were their own. The trip did not take too long, and the sun watched their progress with a bright eye.

The Order had sprung up in the wake of Anathema's death. Old tensions still existed in places, bad blood could take eons to dissipate. His mother had considered these people worthy of aiding, and until they gave him reason otherwise, Honrin would offer no judgement.

Arriving upon the edge of their little claimed space, Honrin dismounted and led his horse into the collection of tents.

Greed. He greeted cordially.

Some drink to remember, some drink to forget

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Honrin Wolfe-Denahlii

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Luperci Herdsman, Ambassador (MV) Mate to Guinevere Top Poster

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