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WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised. |
The little bird perched on the womans shoulder unsettled Brocade. It had eyes that were dark pinpricks against its lackluster feathers, its head darting about in jerky movements as if to keep the man in his sights. Brocade had left his cabin earlier that morning and had been surprised to find that Jacquard had moved his caravan to the clearing just outside. Etoile stayed with the man in the ramshackle thing, though he had spotted her occasionally gazing at the cabin longingly - what with its proper walls and windows. Jacquards monstrous draft horses moved the thing about easily, their thick muscles rolling as they adjusted and pulled.
Tonnerre had watched curiously, his ears twitching at the new animals as they were left to graze.
The bird chirruped before flapping its wings to take off down the trail. He had forgotten her way with the small birds and she had shown him how the little creature was able to mimic some sounds and the occasional word. She rode Colline, the smaller of the two draft horses, but atop the hilltop of a horse she appeared small and delicate. Her four-fingered hand grasped the reigns tightly, her nostrils flared into the breeze.
Brocade wasn't sure what it was that had bade her to follow him. She had asked to join his patrol, and despite their apparent animosity it felt familiar. He glanced at her as they urged the animals into a trot, the heavy animals jostling one another jovially along the path.
He wore his leather armor, the vambraces on his arms shiny and smooth with wear. She wore loose fitting clothes that made it easy to move, her knives strapped in a line across her chest. He grunted suddenly, <"You smell that?">
He had explained to her the concept of Outsiders - and even now being so far from Salsolas territory felt strange and unwelcoming.
She hissed softly, <"Smoke.">
Etoile balanced her emotions carefully each day. Every morning she practiced throwing her knives in the silence of the wood, each throw punctuated by the solidification of her plan. She imagined that they would bury themselves deeply into the back of the silver man, and that he would crumple just as her Ferdinand had.
For now she was eager to lay down her framework, to act as unassuming as possible. Men were easy once you understood their motivations.
Brocades lips lifted, <"And blood.">
He rolled the spear in his hand, <"Let's go.">
When they came upon the camp there was still a fire burning low, the charred wood splitting and falling in upon itself. There was blood smeared across a canvas panel that appeared to have been a tent, a hand print garishly bright against the dull fabric. Etoile dropped from her horse soon after the soldier, her expression cool.
Brocade kicked at a sac, its meager contents spilling across the blood stained earth.
"Where is everyone?"
Brocade is travelling with his cNPC, Etoile Montgomery! They are going to discover a camp that has been attacked/raided by some dirty lil Outsiders! Should there be a survivor? :O I marked it as AW+ incase anyone from SL wants to hop in, otherwise for 1 other please ! :D