11-24-2011, 01:43 AM
Alexandrea glanced up when she thought she noticed the foreigner move closer toward her, but before she was able to register anything in her mind, she found a hand before her face. She was left blinking in surprise, unsure of what was going on, and a second later she flinched as a strange powder was blown into her face. She gasped in shock and in that instant darkness swamped over her and clouded her mind. She was rendered unconscious and went limp as she fell to the ground, her entire world going black.
She was completely and utterly knocked out cold, and wasn’t the slightest bit aware of being moved about and wrapped in furs. The very few of her belongings were either on her, or scattered about in the room where she worked. She had a bag that she used to carry her things and collect herbs, as well as a small collection of paint jars and vials of powder. Her precious paintbrush was the only real thing that had value; it was made of a rare material from a creature in the Arctic that isn’t seen often and very difficult to catch. There were small carvings etched into the handle and the bristles were soft and well kept. It wasn’t something that was handed down to her. The only clothing was what she wore and she had no other personal belongings, as a Shaman life quite often left them with little possessions other than the bare minimum of what they needed. She did however have a very large Polar Bear pelt stored away in her room, when she may need extra warmth for whatever occasion.
Out in the village most males were busy out hunting and foraging for food, while the females were distracted with various duties that required their precise touch. The very few pups played about in the snow, not in the least phased by the bitter cold. The elders were tucked away indoors, where they could be kept warm and well.
[ooc: 336 word count. Well... I simply don't have a whole lot to post now do I?]
She was completely and utterly knocked out cold, and wasn’t the slightest bit aware of being moved about and wrapped in furs. The very few of her belongings were either on her, or scattered about in the room where she worked. She had a bag that she used to carry her things and collect herbs, as well as a small collection of paint jars and vials of powder. Her precious paintbrush was the only real thing that had value; it was made of a rare material from a creature in the Arctic that isn’t seen often and very difficult to catch. There were small carvings etched into the handle and the bristles were soft and well kept. It wasn’t something that was handed down to her. The only clothing was what she wore and she had no other personal belongings, as a Shaman life quite often left them with little possessions other than the bare minimum of what they needed. She did however have a very large Polar Bear pelt stored away in her room, when she may need extra warmth for whatever occasion.
Out in the village most males were busy out hunting and foraging for food, while the females were distracted with various duties that required their precise touch. The very few pups played about in the snow, not in the least phased by the bitter cold. The elders were tucked away indoors, where they could be kept warm and well.
[ooc: 336 word count. Well... I simply don't have a whole lot to post now do I?]