the green remains

Strelein von Rosnete · 01-18-2011, 10:14 PM

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1119
have a post while I procrastinate!!

"In that case, I'm a really really bad hunter," he said, laughing a little bit. He knew that it was hard to hide oneself in the creaky, dilapidated old human dwellings. The floors were rotting and they were breaking apart, noisy as all hell. Good luck trying to get up the stairs without a sound, it just was not a possibility at all. Most often the quietest thing in the city was the middle of the street where one could prowl and not make a sound on the hard pavement ground. But inside, nothing was still, nothing was quiet. In the winter, especially, with the wind howling through cracked windows and between the wooden panes and under door frames. Roofs collapsed and snow would tumble in, only to further the rot when warm weather melted all the ice and snow into base water. No wonder the city was decaying. As long as gems like these bottles were still surviving and well preserved, then there was no worry!

Waving his hand, the redhead scoffed, as though the girl was just joking around. "Please, I figure you'd try it yourself, just at home, instead of here, in case it was poison or something." If he had done it himself and not known what alcohol was, he would have done it himself. Found a friend, or Alaine, to be prepared with a way to get him to vomit the poison if that were the case. And because the redhead did know what was in the bottles -- or vaguely know what it might be -- he was going to help himself to a couple before he went home to stick in his dresser and build his stash. He really aught to consider talking to Vigilante and becoming the supplier of booze close to home as well as being the kingdom's tailor. That sounded like a good idea...

He rolled his eyes a little bit, almost joining in with her laughter. But he couldn't, not when he remembered the crazed coyote who had scared him half out of his own skin. "Yeah I bet. I'd say my family is in the same league, though they never started wars," he added softly, remember their ancient ways mantras and their fervor to maintain the "old ways, the good ways" that the elders no longer could even remember. God, how glad he was to have lit out of there when he did, wondering if their old blood mania would have affected him too if he stayed. Ugh, spending his prime adult years there? That sounded worse than dying a virgin.

"It is," he said, smiling gently as he thought of his pack lands. "But plenty of places here are pretty too, don't get me wrong. I just have a preference for home," he finished, laughing slightly. Home sweet home, after all. Then, she suddenly seemed so excited to know that he was a tailor, that he knew how to sew and all those flamboyantly gay things. "I'm not that good with leather, but I can make anything you like with cloth, needle, and thread," boasted the redhead, looking rather smug for someone drinking with a perfect stranger. "And I bet you'll get better the more you practice. You don't the notes perfect every time you pluck a guitar, so it's all about practice." Strel, at some point, was a horrible tailor; this was about the time he settled down from wandering across Canada and settled here, far from home but still in his breed's home.

Strel nodded along with the girl, taking the bottle from her and taking a quick sip of it rather than a large swig of it. He needed to get home sober rather than plastered; drinking away from home was not something he liked to do in excess. "The war, huh?" he began rather coldly, not directed to the girl but the war itself. "Yeah, I was here before it started. And I was here when it ended, too." He took another quick, light sip and set the bottle down. "I didn't fight, I didn't do much, but I did almost get attacked by a coyote on your clan's borders, when I got lost. Guy didn't even offer to help, but he seemed really cracked in the head. Got all turned around at the end, all confused, so I skipped home without much damage.. but it was so odd, and rude.. All I really wanted was direction home..." Strel's eyes seemed blurred, misty, as he struggled to remember it; it had been a year ago, or so he thought, but it was fading fast from his mind.

Sage hugged her blanket close to her. The redhead assumed that the coyotes here were at a heavy disadvantage with thinner pelts. How did they deal with the winter. Strel hated the cold but it was not enough for him to carry a blanket or a heavy jacket. How was this coyote girl dealing with it? "Me? Cours... Cours is my home and it's my family, even if none of them are my blood brothers and sisters. My own family didn't follow me up here, so I sort of had to find myself a family of sorts. I came from a pack further southwest, near a huge lake. I think it was Lake Heron? Huron? But yeah, I came up here a year and a half ago." He gave the girl a curious look, sly almost. "I ran away from home, you see." He figured if he could milk the drama for all it was worth, Sage wouldn't be bored by it. Well, there was that time in Toronto where he couldn't remember several days...

Ah the memories... "See, they didn't like the human things. Like, they hated that more and more of the children could shift and walk around like two leggers. They didn't like it at all." Strel still wondered why they hated it. No humans survived! What was the big deal? They could use their remaining artifacts for themselves, make life easier, more fun. "Even the human stuff left behind they didn't like at all. Once, I found a jewelry box and brought it home to the pack. In a few hours the alpha showed up and took it from me. Said he was going to remove the human disease from my family. I managed to save this though, by stealing it back from him later," he said as he lifted up his wrist to show the rainbow plastic bangle. It was still as gaudy as ever and Strel refused to part with it. "Imagine that. After that, I kind of bailed and then had a wild rumpus all the way here."

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