Good times

Strelein von Rosnete · 08-01-2012, 12:45 AM

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Word Count :: 324 Thanks for starting

He chose to head past Halifax this time, for he longed to go beyond it for the first time since he had taken on the mantel of Dauphin. He did not want to stray far from home and he could not remember when he had last wandered past Halifax or even further. Ahiga was now living next door to him and he knew he had to be watchful around the yearling. The emaciated youth had worried the man to no end and he had found himself thinking about his ex-nephew often with worry. He went to Halifax to browse for things to pass the time and potentially find something for Ahiga's room. And he had spent the better part of the morning there after he had awoken during a night spent in an abandoned house.

After Strel picked out bottles of vodka, which he knew he should not have taken. His drinking was causing issues and he knew people were noticing it. But he did not care much, and it was too much for him to quit cold turkey. It was in his blood and his blood cried for it after days without it. Withdrawal was hard but it was something he had to do, but he refused to debilitate himself to be purely clean. He had stuffed it with books he had found on sewing and knitting, wondering if he could pick up weaving to supplement his skills. He stepped over the coast, wondering when the next town would appear on the horizon. Maybe he'd find a northern pack, though only Anathema was up here.

That was when he saw the man with the hawk and paused, wondering if it was Niro for the man always had bird of prey. But he was the wrong color entirely, for Niro was white (with red dye now, what a lark). "Hello," he greeted, amiably enough, wondering if he found a drinking partner.

Photo courtesy of randomflashbang

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