04-21-2011, 04:03 AM
The town of Yarmouth was a stark, freezing place. The skies were covered in damp, gray cotton and the covered earth held the ice spit from above. Everything was white and cold and muted. The golden jackal had yet to get used to the cold, even through his cloak he was trembling. The trick was to keep moving, to always keep moving; walking warmed the bones, and death was not one to chase. Still, this was a far cry from the bleaching heat of the desert.
Ammet had heard of the place a few times on his way north. He didn’t allow his hopes up, this wasn’t the first time he had come to human ruins and found nothing. There was something more important however, held within the soft wind. It was the promise of a hostile earth, a promised to exploit his sparse fur and his lean frame until his very bones bore frost. Today, the Luperci was looking for shelter.
Even in high noon he was freezing. The sun could barely be seen overhead through the clouds, it was just a muffled blotch of light. He hugged his gray cloak closer, bracing as the wind struck from another angle. If he absolutely had to, he could exploit one of the many buildings around. Each had some minor flaw though, a window was broken, a door was off its hinges, or the place reeked of rats. The apocalypse had not been kind to the once sleepy little town.
From a glance the canine obviously didn’t belong. His clothes were obviously foreign and hung off of his frame like an emaciated scarecrow. His tawny fur stood in stark relief on the whitened asphalt. His left eye bore a strange mark, dyed black around the outline with two stems beneath ; it was an Egyptian mark. He never stopped shivering.
Ammet had heard of the place a few times on his way north. He didn’t allow his hopes up, this wasn’t the first time he had come to human ruins and found nothing. There was something more important however, held within the soft wind. It was the promise of a hostile earth, a promised to exploit his sparse fur and his lean frame until his very bones bore frost. Today, the Luperci was looking for shelter.
Even in high noon he was freezing. The sun could barely be seen overhead through the clouds, it was just a muffled blotch of light. He hugged his gray cloak closer, bracing as the wind struck from another angle. If he absolutely had to, he could exploit one of the many buildings around. Each had some minor flaw though, a window was broken, a door was off its hinges, or the place reeked of rats. The apocalypse had not been kind to the once sleepy little town.
From a glance the canine obviously didn’t belong. His clothes were obviously foreign and hung off of his frame like an emaciated scarecrow. His tawny fur stood in stark relief on the whitened asphalt. His left eye bore a strange mark, dyed black around the outline with two stems beneath ; it was an Egyptian mark. He never stopped shivering.