OOC This may be a short thread. AW, but it would do good for Orin if a leader ambled by. I understand if everyone's too busy. WC 702
WotD: Slake, verb. To satisfy; to quench; to extinguish; as, to slake thirst.
Sleep had revived and invigorated the young girl. Just one day prior, she and her brother had explored that marvelous structure on the Shattered Coast. Orin doubted her ability to sleep as the pair returned home to their rooms in the Chien Hotel to rest off the adventure, but lo and behold she had managed to nod off before Niro could return to her room with a modest meal. When she awoke, she found some dry-pantry items and water waiting for her. She quickly downed the water to slake her morning thirst, but only picked meagerly at the crackers as images of the lighthouse came rushing back to her.
The building was so beautiful and majestic, standing there at the tip of the Shattered Coast with waves attempting a constant assault, but never quite climbing up the cliff wall to touch the beacon. She understood what lighthouses were for, and wondered what it would look like lit, if it could ever be lit again. Just imagine it there, glowing its presence to wayward ships in the night or fog, as if to sing out to the sailors the very words she had read in that song. . . ‘maybe you’ve heard of that mythical place called the Court of Miracles. Hello, you’re there!’
She giggled slightly, knowing that message would be lost on passing ships. But still, the lighthouse could be a marker of the pack’s territory for seafaring vessels, and she was falling in love with the romanticism of the idea.
Barring her little fantasy, it was astonishing that the place was even still standing without any upkeep in the last umpteen years. Certainly it needed a good hand to get it back to livable and workable conditions, but it showed far more promise than many a place Orin had found in the Southern lands. And replacing the windows and floor in that lamp room would take the most work. Cocking her head to the side, she wondered if they even could replace the glass, or if she would have to resort to boarding up the broken panes.
In any case, there would be a lot of preparation and work that would have to go into the structure before anyone could safely live or work in it. It would be a race against time just to get the floor of the lamp-house repaired before it caved in; if that happened, the ocean’s unrelenting spray would sop into the whole of the structure and ravage it faster than she could fight it, and it would be a lost cause. It would take a lot of books both on lighthouses and carpentry, a fair amount of supplies, and a lot of elbow grease to get it back to good condition. Perhaps if she had a team of adept fellows to help her work on it. . . but she suspected her brother Niro would be her main, and probably only, ally in mending the structure.
And still, despite the genesis of the preparation that was rolling through her mind and leaving her restless, she didn’t even know if she would be permitted to live in the lighthouse once it was complete. In fact, she wasn’t sure what the etiquette for claiming a place as your own was, but she felt compelled to seek permission, and so she would. Better safe than sorry.
As she headed for the door, she grabbed her sack at the last second and emptied the contents (which were few) onto her bed. Perhaps if she had time she could slip off to Lunenburg or follow another clue to try to find a book on lighthouses, or carpentry, or buildings in general. She wasn’t entirely certain where to seek out one of her pack’s leaders to make the request, either, and it was too small a thing to call to them with a howl over, so she hoped someone may be downstairs this afternoon. If she hadn’t the luck of finding a leader, then maybe they could point her in the right direction.
Slipping out of her room on silent footpaws, she latched the door and coasted gracefully down the stairs, peering around the main room for anyone at all.
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