It's a beautiful thing

Swentzle Byström · 12-10-2011, 07:14 PM

[html]

occ here

Word Count → 434

Swentzle looked up as the males finally spoke, and his ears lingered over the voice of the younger one, reminded painfully of his daughter. A small smile pulled at his maw, and he moved toward the cart, pulling back the tarps and moving by smell and touch more than sight. "You are in luck," He said, as he pulled out one of his spare blankets--not furs, unfortunately, but wool; just as thick and warm as they could come--as well as a package of dried meat he'd gotten from Antiman. "I recently restocked in Freetown. Mostly herbs, but I do have some things I can spare." He folded the blanket over his arm and moved around the fire, holding that and the dried meat out. "That will last you the next few months, if you cannot find anything else to eat. It is food for travel." He explained, and then returned to his wagon, pulling sacks open and inhaling carefully. Most of them contained herbs; some had spices. He didn't suppose they would like any of those, though. Frowning thoughtfully, he pawed through one of the bags in the far back, and found only some of the things he didn't like to think about--an old doll he'd taken from Shevon's room before he left, his mateship bracelect curled in the bottom of the bag, the headdress he'd once worn at council. Leaving those things alone for another day, he leaned back and brushed his hands off thoughtfully.

"I have nothing else that you might be interested in." He said, scratching at his chin, and turned toward the two, pausing to comfort Hamza once more as the bison bellowed unhappily. "But my companion, Fovea, will be returning shortly with breakfast. You're free to join us." He was about to smile again, but it never quite reached his face, as the young pup asked after his patient. Swentzle turned toward him, sighing heavily. "I am not sure what will happen to him. I can only do my best." He folded himself into a sitting position beside the fire, taking the staff he'd left lying there to poke at the logs in the fire. "I pulled him from a pile of rubble, in a city to the south of here. He was virtually crushed; it's a wonder he's alive." Swentzle shook his head, casting the mutt a look out of the corner of his eye. He might once have said it was he who'd saved the dog's life and kept him breathing this long; but nowadays Swentzle knew everything was part of a greater design.

Table by Aly, code by the Mentors!

Login




Remember me Lost Password?