let me be satisfied

Denver Mathis · 04-11-2011, 09:08 PM

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Date: Current

Setting: Lunenburg

Time: Afternoon

Character Form: Optime

Character Mood: Relatively good mood, but he is skeptical that he is where he thinks he is.

Requested Participants: Maybe someone who lives in Lunenburg, or frequents it? Preferably a character who has been here a while. :

Ideal Participant Speed: Medium speed; on post a week or faster is fine.

Word Count: 423

Game Points: 3

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Warning, he's kind of an ass! Tongue

Denver sat off quickly after his encounter with Niro and his acceptance into these lands. The white dog just had to find out what kind of place this really was. From all of the stories, it was a Kingdom. He wanted to see just how Royal the place really was, how noble. Would it be a place deserving of him, unlike all the others? Denver would not accept anything less than perfect. Why should he, if he would go to all of the trouble of finding a perfect home?

The place he'd passed over the land's border had been rocky and hard, with cliffs filling the landscape, being constantly slapped with the cold hand of the sea. The area that he was approaching was nothing like that. As the buildings came into his view, his heart rose. Perhaps this was the Kingdom he was searching for, after all.

The buildings were fairly dilapidated, sure, but they still looked habitable. A thin, hopefulsmile finally spread on Denver's face as he crossed into this place; a sea worthy town, with many a vessel still afloat in the near harbor. What might he find here? Surely, some useful trinkets, and perhaps he could commandeer one of those smaller boats...

Greedily, he wandered the streets, going into one small building first, to explore it's contents. It seemed he'd walked into a clothing shop of sorts. The dog boy already wore a brown woolen blazer, a dark blue and gray striped v-neck shirt, and dark blue denim straight-legged jeans, all of which fit him as if they'd been made for him. Really, though, he only liked to have a nice, clean, stylish look to reflect himself. Inside the shop, he browsed the dusty walls, clothing in this particular shop scattered mainly about the floor in odd piles. Casually bending down, he picked up a small but thick item of cloth between two thin, clawed fingers, holding it up to inspect. Icy eyes narrowed to peer at the fabric, which was a mustard yellow color that Denver sort of enjoyed. He snatched it up quickly and moved along from the building, tying the thing about his neck in a sloppy, but still adequate manner.

Slightly warmer now, he walked slowly through the fairly quiet road, the sun arching above him to warm the building-shaded floor beneath his feet. Denver's interest in this land had risen greatly, and his encounter with Niro had been almost put behind him. He only hoped that it would stay that way.

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