11-16-2010, 02:14 PM
[html]Sorry it took a bit! Couldn't find my muse.. turns out Bangle was selling it all along. ;-; 7 points.
Human settlements were the best damn place to find anything and everything. What they left behind in wreckage, Bangle found and turned into treasures. It was the perfect life for this craftsman, walking and finding things along the way to turn into things he could trade with others. The day was chilly, only the start of the afternoon, and leaves that turned color were now easily falling to the ground all around him. The coywolf wore a long fur coat, tied together, which reached down to about mid thigh. He wore his belt outside of the coat, finding it easier to hook and unhook things than having to reach into the folds of his coat. But the weather wasn't going to douse his spirits, no sir. He walked with head held high, his mussy locks loosely tied together by a cord of vine.
His trails took him along a stretch of road, a highway graveyard, it would seem. To the left and right were several rusted cars, some nearly overtaken by the earth and sinking low. He had come from the depths of Yarmouth, overjoyed to have found several little things that others would consider junk. His fingers tingled at the excitement of being able to craft these things soon enough. The pack he carried made several different noises as he tread along the highway, but it was lighter than he was used to, seeing as he left most things back at his house in Thornbury.
The male's ears twitched at the sound of the coast nearby, and he stopped and turned his head to the direction. He stood in silence for a moment, as if contemplating to head closer to the coast, but he shrugged and kept on walking. The coast would be for another day, certainly. About half a mile ahead, Bangle noticed a car with the windshield still slightly in tact, albeit the grime that caked upon it. What he noticed just from the worn path, was something.. in the car. Curiosity got the better of Bangle and, quirking an eyebrow, turned to the direction of where the car lie.
Upon nearing it, the door to the driver's side was long torn off, exposing the remnants of a human skeleton. Now this was interesting, and the male didn't hesitate to squat down by the driver's side and take a look around. "Good day t'you, sir," the male said in a simple tone, looking from one end of the car to the other. "It would seem you've been stopped dead in yer tracks!" He tore into a laugh, one that could be easily heard from all around. Bangle didn't have to respect the dead humans, this was mother nature's world, now. It wasn't like the skeleton would retaliate, either.
In the car itself, there wasn't much to look at. This human was on his own in this machine, and the gods would only know what this fellow's story was. Never would the human be able to tell others of his life, or the noble gests which he performed. "'Ere, lemme give ya a hand," he said, standing and grabbing the skeleton's hand in order to pull him out of the car. However, the skeleton was so brittle that, in the movement, the human hand pulled right off. Bangle blinked, watching the skeleton slide only half out of the machine, still holding the skeleton hand. "Or, well, it seems I've got yers!" Bangle snorted, finding humor in these little jokes that he spoke aloud to no one but himself. The skeleton hand, though, would prove useful, and so Bangle opened his satchel and placed the hand within.
There was nothing else to salvage here, really, and so Bangle saluted the skeleton, half of it now leaning off the car seat, and turned back onto the stretch of highway. Where it led, Bangle did not care. Hell, if he could wander forever, there was a good chance he would. Past a few trees, to the left, Bangle decided to stop in a grassy area, where remnants of cars circled around an empty space. A perfect place to start working, and perhaps look for any passerbys who would be willing to trade for his oddities. Cour, de, miracles
Human settlements were the best damn place to find anything and everything. What they left behind in wreckage, Bangle found and turned into treasures. It was the perfect life for this craftsman, walking and finding things along the way to turn into things he could trade with others. The day was chilly, only the start of the afternoon, and leaves that turned color were now easily falling to the ground all around him. The coywolf wore a long fur coat, tied together, which reached down to about mid thigh. He wore his belt outside of the coat, finding it easier to hook and unhook things than having to reach into the folds of his coat. But the weather wasn't going to douse his spirits, no sir. He walked with head held high, his mussy locks loosely tied together by a cord of vine.
His trails took him along a stretch of road, a highway graveyard, it would seem. To the left and right were several rusted cars, some nearly overtaken by the earth and sinking low. He had come from the depths of Yarmouth, overjoyed to have found several little things that others would consider junk. His fingers tingled at the excitement of being able to craft these things soon enough. The pack he carried made several different noises as he tread along the highway, but it was lighter than he was used to, seeing as he left most things back at his house in Thornbury.
The male's ears twitched at the sound of the coast nearby, and he stopped and turned his head to the direction. He stood in silence for a moment, as if contemplating to head closer to the coast, but he shrugged and kept on walking. The coast would be for another day, certainly. About half a mile ahead, Bangle noticed a car with the windshield still slightly in tact, albeit the grime that caked upon it. What he noticed just from the worn path, was something.. in the car. Curiosity got the better of Bangle and, quirking an eyebrow, turned to the direction of where the car lie.
Upon nearing it, the door to the driver's side was long torn off, exposing the remnants of a human skeleton. Now this was interesting, and the male didn't hesitate to squat down by the driver's side and take a look around. "Good day t'you, sir," the male said in a simple tone, looking from one end of the car to the other. "It would seem you've been stopped dead in yer tracks!" He tore into a laugh, one that could be easily heard from all around. Bangle didn't have to respect the dead humans, this was mother nature's world, now. It wasn't like the skeleton would retaliate, either.
In the car itself, there wasn't much to look at. This human was on his own in this machine, and the gods would only know what this fellow's story was. Never would the human be able to tell others of his life, or the noble gests which he performed. "'Ere, lemme give ya a hand," he said, standing and grabbing the skeleton's hand in order to pull him out of the car. However, the skeleton was so brittle that, in the movement, the human hand pulled right off. Bangle blinked, watching the skeleton slide only half out of the machine, still holding the skeleton hand. "Or, well, it seems I've got yers!" Bangle snorted, finding humor in these little jokes that he spoke aloud to no one but himself. The skeleton hand, though, would prove useful, and so Bangle opened his satchel and placed the hand within.
There was nothing else to salvage here, really, and so Bangle saluted the skeleton, half of it now leaning off the car seat, and turned back onto the stretch of highway. Where it led, Bangle did not care. Hell, if he could wander forever, there was a good chance he would. Past a few trees, to the left, Bangle decided to stop in a grassy area, where remnants of cars circled around an empty space. A perfect place to start working, and perhaps look for any passerbys who would be willing to trade for his oddities. Cour, de, miracles