topsy turvy

Ezekiel de le Poer · 01-21-2012, 04:19 PM

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(637) tl;dr. Haven is behind Zeke and likely wanders off after this.

While the idea of trade was something Ezekiel could admire, he had not truly grasped the world of this place until they had arrived. He had come on Oblak, bringing all the goods that the pack could spare, and with Max and the over-excited Cajun joining him, had made a small camp. While Inferni was not obligated to attend, he had made the location of their set-up apparent for those who came. He had spotted Angel around, but been swept up quickly when his title was presented to a tall and imposing man with a bright red streak in his hair.

Mahavites made a point to talk to him for several long minutes, mentioning his familiarity with Ezekiel’s surname. This surprised him until the information about a horse-breeder from Freetown was announced. Ezekiel made a note to travel south again and meet these relatives, though he was unsure how soon such a thing would occur. The big wolf forced a drink down his throat despite a half-hearted protest and then gone off, promising that the leader’s feast would be a “remarkable night”.

A dark man caught his eyes, alone in his tent. Ezekiel made a point to head in his direction, grateful for the pause in the wild noise of the gathering. The wolf barely glanced up at him until the coyote began looking over the various beads placed out in wooden boxes.

“What would you want for these?” Ezekiel asked, picking through the glass beads.

“It depends on how many you want,” the morose man replied, his voice equally as sad as his face. Ezekiel wondered, briefly, what in the world had him in such a state. One hand went to the bag at his side, producing the small pouch he had brought from Inferni. A varied collection of things he had scavenged both in Halifax and the various cities he had passed on his way home was within; he drew out two broken necklaces, one gold and the other a duller bronze. The man’s eyes lit up at the sight of them.

“May I see?”

Ezekiel passed these to him, watching quietly as the man looked them over, weighed them in a palm, and then nodded. “I will take these; show me what you want.”

The blonde picked out a few glass beads, all of them red, and two charms. One in particular caught his attention; it was simple silver, worn, and clearly human made. A rampart lion graced the front, wearing a crown. Below its feet a scroll bore the title “Rev. 5:5”. Ezekiel smiled slightly, his eyes darkening. The lion of Judah. This he took for himself. His second choice was more primitive; it was a worn coin like the one he had found. A woman bearing a spear and holding a crown, worn and dated. He likewise knew who to gift this to.

“I’ll take these, two of those chains, and that roll of string.”

“Its hemp, actually,” the wolf corrected gently, and reached for the selected things. “Very strong; you will be pleased with it.”

His things placed back into the pouch, Ezekiel went on with his day. He passed another tent and heard a woman arguing with his Cajun companion, but they were smiling as they did so and the coyote ignore them. Another sight caught his eye, this one of a tall orange man he recognized. The Aquila made his way to their tent, and found the Captain quickly. They exchanged greetings and spoke of the festival itself, mentioning briefly their own homes, and Haven suggested that Ezekiel join the dance that was to come later. As he opened his mouth to object someone bumped into his back.

He wheeled and to his surprise was met with a red-haired woman. His eyes widened in surprise, mirroring her expression. “Giselle?”

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