who shot that arrow in your throat-

jehan | @ the borders

POSTED: Tue May 10, 2016 8:57 pm


I figured it'd probably be easier for them to trade if she were at the borders! she's at the easternmost borders [308]

She adjusted the pack which contained the various goods she'd grabbed from Salsola's stores before heading out. Or rather, the few items that she thought would actually be worth something. A bit of whale oil was one of them, along with some pelts. She wasn't sure if anyone would want any of the pelts, as they were fairly easy to acquire, but she had grabbed a few nice-looking ones anyways. She needed to practice her merchant "skills" and prove that she was actually a fair trader, and the best way to do so seemed to be actually trading for items.

With such things in mind, she found herself at the coyote borders, with the intent to move further southeast after she was done here to find more information regarding other surrounding packs. There seemed to be a lot of packs nearby, all clustered together — she was glad Salsola was so far away, tucked into it's little corner by the sea, not crowded together with so many other groups of canines.

Cinareae gave a little howl to summon one of the Infernians to the borders, hoping that she would be greeted by an individual who was actually able to trade away some goods. Her call was a little hesitant, mostly because she did not have an appearance of a coyote and the wolf skulls at the borders made her a little nervous. She sucked in a breath and adjusted the pack she had, shrugging it off of her shoulders and checking briefly to make sure nothing had fallen out during her travels. Everything was there — the whale oil in a little container and the pelts shoved into the bottom, all crumbled together into one mess of fur. She gripped the pack tightly in one padded hand and looked up, waiting for someone to appear at the borders.
Give your immortality to me

I'll set you up against the stars

POSTED: Tue May 17, 2016 9:54 am

300+ Sorry for the wait there, Kite! ;_; And for the tl;dr and abrupt NPC inclusion lol >_>;; Skip to after break xD

The puppies would be born in a few weeks, and then Jehan would learn whether or not Cartier and he were to be fathers. The thought was strange, frightening, exhilarating; it was all he could do to focus on his duties and not fret and hope about the future. This summer, he thought, would either come with a great relief or a great disappointment.

He focused on the pack stores and the garden most days, not one to venture out and get physical like the 'yotes or Clover—and wanting to avoid Basilio, too. He'd tried his best to keep his mouth shut about the altercation, but gossip would find its way to Vesper's ears eventually—and while the Aquila was no panjandrum, she probably thought a dog's troubles beneath her own. Even if he was her son's mate.

Jehan fretted over these thoughts before a howl rang up in the distance. It wasn't one that the Outsider concerned himself with, but as he began pulling onion bulbs from the dirt, another coyote passed by the greenhouse.

Jehan, amigo, ain't you a trader? asked the coyote, peering back in. Laurel's face was blackened around the mouth with soot, his brows and cheeks accented, his grin sluggish and jovial as usual. That's a trader call if I ever heard 'un.

The spitz mutt hesitated, but Laurel beckoned him again; grumbling, Jehan threw the onions into one of the old pots and walked after Laurel. Border's awful far away, man, he complained. And I gotta get more of my shit.

I got Gorda, Laurel replied, and Jehan replied with an expletive when he realized what "Gorda" was.


The journey to the borders was sluggish, though Laurel called back to the stranger. He offered to let Jehan sit up on the fat mare's back, but Jehan was uncomfortable enough walking beside the thing and refused. Luckily, the old coyote distracted him with random talk, his slow, southern-accented voice a mellifluous cadence—and when they reached the borders at last, Laurel only dialed up the charm.

Well howdy there, señorita, the plump coyote crooned, his gestures something Jehan would have called prissy not long ago. I'm Laurel, 'n' this is Jehan, 'n' I believe we can help you with somethin'?

Jehan forced himself into his trader's persona, too, grinning—but recent events made the smile slow to come, and he ended up looking a bit standoffish beside Laurel.



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Luperci Don't be salty.
A fool's gold

POSTED: Tue Jun 14, 2016 7:57 pm


slow kite is slow [259]

A pale hand curled around the strap of her pack, watchful eyes glued to the borders. Her call was soon answered by two Infernians. Her hands dropped back to her sides. "Hello," she greeted gruffly. She looked to her pack and held it up slightly, looking to it and then back to the duo. Only one of them was speaking, and her attention drifted to the silent one. One of his arms was missing. She narrowed her eyes for a moment before twitching an ear, relaxing her face, and looking towards the one who actually spoke — Laurel. The other was Jehan, apparently.

"Cinareae," she introduced, flipping open her pack. "I have goods from Salsola to trade if you are interested." Her tone was emotionless and level, her words quick and to the point. She did not waste time with unimportant words and idle movements. A hand grasped a jar of whale oil and pulled it from the pack. She looked at it before holding it out for the others to see. "This is from a whale. It can be burned, among other things," she told them, not caring if they weren't interested in trading. Cinareae would give a bit information about the item anyways, and then go on feeling stupid if they ushered her away.

There were a few furs at the bottom of her pack, and she set the jar back inside. She pulled a fur from the bag, holding it in her fist for a moment before putting it back in the bag. "Are you interested?"
Give your immortality to me

I'll set you up against the stars

POSTED: Mon Jul 04, 2016 10:37 pm

The trader was a big, wolfish woman; precisely the sort that would have been chased away from the borders in most other cases. It was her luck that the dog and coydog answered her request; while Jehan wasn’t certain about the prejudices of Cenizans in general, they treated him nicely, and Laurel was his usual charismatic self around the stranger.

Jehan was less charismatic today—especially when her eyes fell to his arm and she narrowed them. He could only imagine the disgust behind her stoic features. Inwardly, he angered, and this manifested in a sudden grin on his small muzzle.

He liked being friendly to piss others off.

“Salsola, huh?” echoed Jehan, bracing the small clay pot against his hip. He realized quickly that she wasn’t here for those sort of pleasantries, and from the glance Laurel spared him out of the corner of his eye, he seemed to have noticed, too.

“Reckon I’m interested or I wouldn't've come,” Laurel agreed when the woman was done demonstrating her goods. The oil intrigued Jehan especially, though the furs were nothing special. One or two might have been in good condition, though, and for this reason the ash-streaked coydog gestured for her to bring the last pelt out of the bag again. “Lemme see that one.”

“We got onion bulbs,” Jehan offered, tipping the pot to show her. “That be worth your stuff from a whale?”


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Luperci Don't be salty.
A fool's gold

POSTED: Sat Jul 16, 2016 12:28 am

(198)

The woman watched them with her stoic features, her attention mostly on the one who looked like they actually had some coyote blood. She was doubtful of the dog, knowing this to be a place of coyotes — what place did he have among them? And what use would a cripple have to them?

Cinareae offered a small smile and pulled the pelt from the bag again, holding it out so that the coydog might look closer at it, as he had requested. Cinareae looked towards the dog again, gold eyes narrowing slightly as he spoke. Her chin turned upwards a bit, finding it difficult to behave as a merchant should around them. "That would do," Cinareae told him in her low voice, emotionless as ever, flat and unwelcoming.

The friendliness that Jehan offered had been unexpected. Cinareae noted this as she pulled a jar of the whale oil from her bag and held it out to him, her gaze moving from his face to the clay pot and the onion bulbs within. "Whales don't come around much," she added, as if that would add to the value of the product she had brought to their borders.

Give your immortality to me

I'll set you up against the stars

POSTED: Sun Jul 17, 2016 8:22 pm

() sorry they want to make Cin's life difficult

The broad brown wolf smiled and showed her wares, but the emotion did not touch her flat, narrow gold eyes or the curt words that dropped by the handful from her silvered muzzle. She was as uncharming as a merchant could be, Jehan thought, and exchanged a tongue-lolling glance at Laurel, who twitched his whiskers as if at a secret joke. They were decided.

Would it do, Jehan mused, and looked down at the pot in his arm. He let Laurel, who straightened from glancing at the pelt, step forward to take the jar of whale oil. What about the jar, eh? Good jars don't come 'round much either, would we get to keep that?

Though higher in rank by default than the dog, Laurel seemed amused and content to let the Outsider speak, if only as part of some jest they were making at her expense.

I don't rightly know much about Salsola, added Laurel in his slow, honey-coated drawl. He tipped a bent wrist at the pelts. Y'all got many skinners 'n' tanners then?



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Luperci Don't be salty.
A fool's gold

POSTED: Mon Jul 25, 2016 9:16 pm

(161) — I love them <3 also, sorry for the crummy post! v.v

She kept the frustration from showing on her countenance — she remained stoic, keeping up her emotionless facade as well as she could when faced with the nuisance that was the dog and the coyote. Again, she wondered what a dog was doing within Inferni's borders.

"You can keep it," she confirmed. There was no other use for the jar, and she found herself briefly wondering how they would transport the oil if she hadn't let them keep the jar. "Only if I can keep the pot, because like you said, good jars don't come around and I would have had other uses for this one," Cinareae added.

She looked to the coyote, who examined her pelts, and processed his question. "I've mostly acquired these through trading," she explained quickly, not wanting to give away too much information concerned with herself and her trading practices. These were strangers and she was not concerned with idle conversation. "Though I'm sure there are."

Give your immortality to me

I'll set you up against the stars

POSTED: Sun Jul 31, 2016 8:36 am

()

The coffee-colored wolf didn't play into their game, and Jehan barely suppressed a look of disappointment when she answered him, businesslike. He did drop his ears and twitch the corner of his mouth aside, glancing down at the pot that he'd haphazardly dropped the bulbs into. It looked like he'd walked right into that one, but at least Inferni had more pots, he thought.

A'ight, the spitz said, shrugging.

Laurel, meanwhile, raised his brows at the woman's response. Well, darlin', that don't help me much, he said softly and kindly, his soot-masked mouth smiling. If y'ain't know about your wares, or enough t' bluff about 'em, then y'ain't fetch much good prices, comprende? He dispensed this unwarranted advice with such a low, soft cadence that Jehan almost took heed of it, even if it wasn't directed at him.

A little hesitation makes ya seem honest, so you ain't answer too fast, but you must gotta be certain of what you're barterin', the trader continued, and shrugged. I don't want the pelts. You're not sure if you got good skinners and tanners, so I'm not sure about their quality. But y'all can exchange the bulbs and oil, we'll lookit that.

Then he took rank at last, gesturing for Jehan to bring the pot forward, which the dog did, grimacing awkwardly over the rim of it and hoping that the trader would take it—rather than forgetting he was one-armed and trying to hand over the jar first.



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Luperci Don't be salty.
A fool's gold

POSTED: Sun Aug 07, 2016 3:00 am

(217) — cinareae is a meanie sorry :'(

She felt tempted to roll her eyes, wholeheartedly convinced her words were quite misunderstood. "I didn't say I got these from Salsolans, I said I got them from trading, so I'd know their quality" she argued quickly, keeping her voice level and calm despite the fact that she had the tendency to grow frustrated. It hadn't served her well in Freetown, although her manners hadn't been nearly as bad there. Cinareae curled her fingers tighter around her wares.

The Salsolan gave a quick, quiet little huff. She never asked for his advice. She never asked for anyone's advice, and most certainly didn't ask for a cripple and a coyote to answer her call. Cinareae found herself wishing someone more respectable had shown up. The woman drew in a breath, trying to calm her thoughts for fear they might slip into her expression and her golden eyes.

Cinareae watched the one-armed dog approach with the pot and watched with narrowed eyes, wondering if she should be rude and try to get him to take the jar first. She exhaled softly, almost a sigh but not quite, and took the pot from him before handing over her jar with a little reluctance. "Thanks," Cinareae said, hoping that she could leave quickly and not face anymore awkwardness or unwanted advice.

Give your immortality to me

I'll set you up against the stars

POSTED: Mon Aug 15, 2016 9:22 pm

OOC: We can probably end it here or with your next post? :o

IC:

On the defensive, the Salsolan responded and huffed—although her face didn’t betray her irritation. Unfortunately for her, it didn’t betray much other emotion either, real or feigned; this was her downfall, Jehan thought, though he wasn’t going to be patronizing to a member of another pack when he was so low-ranked in this one. Traders needed charisma; Cinareae had a dearth of it.

He badly attempted to hide his smirk at Laurel’s advice and the rebuttal, and took the jar happily, lifting it to the light to view its contents more clearly. “Thank you,” he replied with a grin, wagging his tail and hoping to appear gracious as a good example.

Laurel grunted and flapped a hand. “Shouldn’t don’t linger,” he told her, and smiled in apology. He didn’t say more, but rolled his eyes toward the skulls. Infernians smelling a wolf on the border would likely strike first and ask questions later.


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Raze
Luperci Don't be salty.
A fool's gold

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