the company we keep
#1
[html]
Word count: 425




Jimson had done a good bit of wandering around since his first night in Cour des Miracles, but he had yet to really investigate the coastline. He had decided to begin in Lunenburg today; he wanted to see the boats that he had heard still dotted the harbor. He left his bag and bow in his room, carrying with him only his staff, which he took pretty much everywhere -- you never knew when you'd need to defend yourself, and plus it doubled as a great walking stick.

He breathed deeply of the crisp morning air as he exited the hotel. As always was the scent of the sea, as well as the dry, cool scent of autumn slowly extending its tendrils into the atmosphere. Back home, they would be giving the sheep one last good shear before allowing their woolen coats to grow back in for the winter. Those who farmed would be starting their harvests, and the farmer's market would be alive with fresh vegetables. But there were no sheep to shear now, Jimson reminded himself, sighing. And he had a new home, now, he had decided -- when he'd first encountered Skoll and Vigilante, he hadn't been sure that he would stay more than a night or two in their territory, but they had made it clear that he would be welcome to stay longer as long as he made himself useful. And he had done so, or tried, anyway, in the short time he'd been here: he'd added a bit to the food store in the hotel, and every day he tried to patrol a little bit of the border, keeping in mind the attacks which Skoll had mentioned.

Not far from the hotel he spied a large, Victorian-style house, fairly well kept, at least compared to a lot of the old human houses he'd seen in his travels. There seemed to be some damage to the upper story, but other than that it looked to be in good condition. And there were strong scents surrounding it -- it was obvious a good number of the pack lived here. In particular, he picked out Skoll's and Vigilante's scents. The giant white dog approached the house, climbing the steps up onto the porch -- perhaps Skoll was home and would accompany him to the harbor. He wouldn't mind the company, anyway. The door was ajar, so he placed a foot on the threshold, and called, "Hello?" as he peeked in and rapped on the wood of the door frame a few times.




Table credit Raze.
<style type="text/css">
.jimmoro-ooc {width:490px; padding: 3px 0px 3px 0px; font-size:11px; font-family: Georgia,serif; letter-spacing:.6px; word-spacing:.9x; line-height:9px; font-style:italic; text-align:right;}
.jimmoro b {color:#751b02;}
.jimmoro p {text-indent:0px; padding:5px 16px; margin:0px;}
.jimmoro {margin:0 auto; width:500px; background-color:#c0b075; background-image:url(http://hensleyitis.files.wordpress.com/ ... eeping.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #655d3e; padding: 290px 0px 7px 0px; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#655d3e; letter-spacing:.6px; word-spacing:.9x; line-height:13.3px; text-align:justify;}
</style>[/html]


Messages In This Thread

Forum Jump: