A bit of rain to keep the spirits away

For O'Brien

POSTED: Thu Oct 31, 2019 11:32 pm

A chill ran up Wally's spine, and it had nothing to do with the cold. The dog made his way through the Miramichi Wilderness with a sinking feeling in his gut as the sound of rain helped to mask any noise. He hated nights like this, where he couldn't feel the wind and everything seemed too still. It both made him feel the spirits weren’t watching over him and paranoid someone was observing his every movement. Even with his fur as soaked as it was, Wally's tired eyes were focused on finding any threat in the area, though he had yet to see anything move aside from the leaves overhead shivering from the rain.

A similar event occurred when he was eight months old, when his old pack was attacked by coyotes. It didn't rain, but there was no wind, and it gave him an uneasiness similar to what he felt now, at least until he stumbled onto a small group of coyotes scouting the area. That was when the adrenaline kicked in, and there was a mad brawl where he was on the ground half of the time.

The rain did give a bit of a comfort as he didn't have to worry as much about any torches, but it also irritated the existent scars on both his arm and his leg. He had already pulled off the wraps and was rubbing his arm, sometimes stopping to do the same for the leg, but it was more of an involuntary reaction. Most of his focus was on the surroundings, either to find an enemy or a place to sleep. He was looking for a cave or an overhang to rest, both to keep his scars from itching and to help hide him as he drifted off.

The dog's mouth opened as he yawned again, taking a quick glance around before continuing through the forest. He definitely felt like he was being watched, and his nerves made his body tense up as he continued, like a compressed spring ready to be released. He muttered a silent prayer to the spirits above as he pushed forward, hoping whoever was looking at him wasn’t malicious.
Loners
Dog
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Noah

POSTED: Sat Nov 09, 2019 7:11 pm

He hadn't quite meant to stalk the poor fellow.

Or perhaps he had at first. It was instinct – the curiosity that drew a pickpocket's eyes to a haggard stranger carrying a sack of goods, or if he was being generous with his morality, a guardian wary of a slinking stranger.

However, the longer O'Brien trailed behind the other shepherd-mix, hood shading his eyes and his dirty no-color cloak disguising his form amid the drizzle, two things became clear. This man wasn't a threat to him or the Troupe, and O'Brien wouldn't dream of robbing him when he looked worse-off than O'Brien.

He might have left then, disappeared into the woods as if he'd never existed, but he could tell from the stranger's darting gaze and nervous yawning that he knew he was being watched. He was probably only looking for some shelter, and O'Brien knew of a shallow, if dry, cavern not far from here.

When O'Brien materialized, it was as a specter, naturally quiet in his gait and emerging from the rainy fog that had grown so thick as of late. His husky burr was could barely be heard over the raindrops pattering on the firs. Guid evening?

I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory
I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory
The Troupe
Pickpocket
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Raze
Luperci
here come the ravens

POSTED: Sun Nov 10, 2019 9:42 pm

301 Words

The dog's soft words were barely registered as Wally noticed the figure approaching him. The only thought he had was that the creature was a ghost, and a bone-chilling terror tore itself through his body. Was it possible to fight a ghost? That was all he could think before his fighting instincts took over.

Despite lacking a spear, his first response was still valid in this situation. With a terrified bark, he launched himself away from the figure, losing his footing as he did so. He reacted just as quick, managing to land on his back and rolling back onto his feet, hoping he made enough distance to prevent an attack. With a wild look in his eyes, he realized what the individual said. It was a greeting, and a relatively-relaxed one at that.

Whatever chills he felt in his body were melted away by a warming wave of intense embarrassment. Now able to see the hooded individual as clear as he could in this rain, he could see the raindrops pittering on his cloak and saw that he was, in fact, corporeal. With disheartened eyes, he made a nervous laugh as he struggled to raise himself to a standing position, his distance-making move taking away most of his remaining strength.

"Evening," he said, "Sorry about that, I thought ye were...a ghost?" He hoped that wouldn't offend him and really wanted to pull his bandana over his eyes, but opted to just stare at the ground. "Do ye happen to know of a place to get out of the rain?" His vision began to blur, and he shook his head to stay awake. "Yer not here to kill me, aye?" There was a bit of hope in his voice, since he knew he would be the underdog if the two fought.
Loners
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Noah

Northern Tides