Cercatori d'Arte member only, please? Somewhere in Greater Halifax, sometime during the day; Vasi is in Optime.
Vasiliy is by me!
He walked, as he had for the past several days. Perhaps it had been a week since the ship landed in Freetown -- Vasiliy had lost track of time. There wasn't much point in keeping it when each day was the same -- get up, start walking, keep walking, sleep. Social creature he was, Vasiliy was disappointed with this walk. The land was pristine, but it was no more interesting than the ocean-vessel. Vasiliy thought he might have liked sea travel; he could not have been more wrong.
The ocean stretched before and behind them, vast and endless, much like the pine forests he'd hiked through to arrive in this coastal city. The grizzled wolf longed for company. He'd seen only a few travellers in his trek up the coast. A pair of coyotes had skittered away the moment they noticed him, though he called a greeting in English. The other -- well, clearly he was some sort of madman. Vasiliy had been the one to run from him and his ravings. It was no matter, though.
Despite never seeing the horizon of looming towers before in his life, Vasiliy knew where he was. This was the place his father had spoken of in his fever and ramblings. It is not so pretty, Vasi thought to himself, even as he paused to appraise the new city's skyline. Even then, he knew he wasn't being entirely truthful -- it was pretty, and the world around him teemed with wolf-scents, evidence enough that the place was heavily inhabited. The granite-furred man shifted his pack and started up again, moving steadily toward the part of the city with the tallest buildings.
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