10-11-2012, 10:24 PM
The hurricane had caused much damage to dwellings and other property all over Salsolan territory-- and presumably in the lands of other packs too, but Null didn't care about those. The trapper had come out of the disaster better than most, all of her belongings having been kept safe and sound in her satchel, and she had perhaps gained a few good marks against her name by offering aid to packmates during the storm. If she were to look at it in a purely personal light, it had been a good thing; it had allowed her to display some of her skills and willingness to assist. She would never say such a thing, however, not when so many had been hurt or had property damaged or other such things during the event. She wasn't that stupid or insensitive.
And then, a few days after the storm had passed, her dear friend Rurik Volkov had shown up at the border and had been accepted into the pack. Null had been worried about him, part of her panicking at the idea that he might have been hurt in the storm, but no; he was fine, healthy and happy and whole. She had immediately taken to passing on what she had learned of Salsola from Draugr to her giant friend, showing him around the places she knew and teaching him of the customs that she had been instructed on. They hadn't covered much yet in the day he had been Salsolan, but they had time yet.
Today the pair had taken to wandering through the territory, exploring and perhaps looking for something to attend to. They walked vaguely through the Pine Barrens, Null evaluating which useful plants had survived the storm and Rurik simply loping along behind her. It was during this largely aimless rambling that they came across a stranger, a Salsolan neither of them had met-- which, honestly, was a description they could fix to most of their pack. The female was scratching away at the bark of a tree. It looked like words, but Null wasn't at the right angle to read it. The pair approached, curious.
Ah, it read Harrow D'Angelo. The female's name, perhaps? Null cleared her throat to announce their presence without startling the female, in case she hadn't already noticed them. Hello! She greeted, putting on her best 'friendly and approachable' look. How are you today?
And then, a few days after the storm had passed, her dear friend Rurik Volkov had shown up at the border and had been accepted into the pack. Null had been worried about him, part of her panicking at the idea that he might have been hurt in the storm, but no; he was fine, healthy and happy and whole. She had immediately taken to passing on what she had learned of Salsola from Draugr to her giant friend, showing him around the places she knew and teaching him of the customs that she had been instructed on. They hadn't covered much yet in the day he had been Salsolan, but they had time yet.
Today the pair had taken to wandering through the territory, exploring and perhaps looking for something to attend to. They walked vaguely through the Pine Barrens, Null evaluating which useful plants had survived the storm and Rurik simply loping along behind her. It was during this largely aimless rambling that they came across a stranger, a Salsolan neither of them had met-- which, honestly, was a description they could fix to most of their pack. The female was scratching away at the bark of a tree. It looked like words, but Null wasn't at the right angle to read it. The pair approached, curious.
Ah, it read Harrow D'Angelo. The female's name, perhaps? Null cleared her throat to announce their presence without startling the female, in case she hadn't already noticed them. Hello! She greeted, putting on her best 'friendly and approachable' look. How are you today?