Flying out of broken soil

POSTED: Mon Aug 20, 2018 6:40 pm


It's morning on Wabanaki Coast, and it's drizzling. Your character is investigating an old car.

getting used to arber here! anyone is free to join

Arber clicked his tongue, encouraging the mule to follow him onto the broken tarmac that cut a dark path through the forest. The road was scarcely a road at all, but it made leading the beast easier as the land was cleared of thick vegetation. Cleared riding trails were starting to become a rarer sight the further he traversed eastward.

If the words were to be believed, it was where Etoile resided now, somewhere deep in these wild woods.

It wouldn't be hard to find his sister, he had decided, and he was taking his time going. It made it easier that the black mule was a hardy, docile thing -- he didn't like to mess with her too much, only to remove the packing tack she wore during the day when they stopped for the night, and that suited Ginger fine. Even now, she trailed behind Arber peacefully, her long ears flicking occasionally to displace the drops of water that gathered on them.

Even if the rain was light, it wasn't long until the walking and air pressure got to his leg. It made his limp more pronounced, and by the time Arber stopped beside a pulled over husk of a car, he was hobbling. He grumbled under his breath, cursing the clouds that seemed to be a constant in this land, and tied Ginger's lead onto the side view mirror. He doubted that would keep the mule in place if she truly wanted to leave, especially when he pried open the car door, the hunk of metal fell away completely.

Arber only grunted and tossed the dismembered door onto the road to join the rest of the miscellaneous junk that littered it. He climbed into the rodent-eaten driver's seat and propped his leg onto the dash, giving it a good rub while he rested his head against the head cushion.

POSTED: Tue Aug 21, 2018 9:39 am

Silas blinked through the drizzling rain, a fine mist that coated his whiskers. He sat under a rusted metal overhang, his arms propped on his knees, watching the woods beyond. Sometimes animals passed through the ferns, dark and glittering with moisture, but the man felt no need to give chase despite the ever-present hunger. Though he'd been away from Zion for seasons, he was still wary of the summer rains.

He wasn't sure what had possessed him to bring Dolores through the Narrows that night. The canyon was treacherous at the best of times, and it would have been easy to cross paths with a violent coyote. But the girl insisted, wanting to be a good hunter like her mother, and they'd gone in a team, taken precautions.

Lightning had flashed, and by then it was too late: the waters came spilling down through the cavern, and Dolores was swept away by the flood. Silas remembered dumping his weapons and diving into the rapids after her, remembered banging up against rocks and branches -- and catching her in his arms at last.

He grunted and stood, wondering if she was dead like her brother anyway. War paused here in the east, but he knew the Scintilla coyotes never rested.

It was important to keep moving, and this was the only reason Silas roused himself and walked through the wood. When his paws brushed asphalt, he stopped, looked down the road -- wary of traveling it in the open. He saw the mule before he could make out a Luperci resting in a rusted car, and hesitantly approached.

Anyone could be Salsolan, Silas knew. If he was recognized, he would fight to the death. And despite what his life had become, he wasn't ready for death yet.

But Silas also wasn't used to solitude, and needed to work together with others, even this was as simple as swapping information with another loner.

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