out of character[/html]
read only / all welcome
technically, this is a read-only thread. however, if anyone would like to rp out discovering the hut/theodoric's body, please feel free to do so.
as a timeline note, the roof collapses late on the 6th, theodoric dies pre-dawn on the 7th, and the owl wynne returns to the hut the morning of the 8th
in character
Theodoric’s life was one of simple pleasures. He took joy in the work of his hands and found refuge in friends and family. There was a routine to his days here in AniWaya, a peaceful pattern by which he measured the passing of time. He wove, he visited his ponies in the stables, and he hunted with his eagle owl. To another, the predictability might have been boringly maddening; but to Theodoric, it was enough to generate contentment.
The day Theodoric died was much like any other day. He rose with the sun, went about his morning chores, and settled down at the loom for a day’s work. The dawn had been frigid and windy, and he built up the fire accordingly. Otherwise, he was busy with the project he and Liliana had started, weaving blankets for the tribe’s horses; thusly occupied, he noticed neither the thickening clouds outside nor the increased vigor of the winds.
The great eagle owl he lived with did notice. She pestered Theodoric more and more as the day progressed, first flapping noisily about the hut. This was generally her signal that she wished to go outside, and Theodoric dismissed her request. “Not the day for a walk, my friend,” he said more than once. Wynne knew and understood the high speech, but, being limited by an owl’s vocal chords, spoke it only poorly; Theodoric was learning the owl’s language, but was a mediocre linguist at best. She screeched and cawed at him, and Theodoric, distracted by his work, failed to comprehend a word. When she clawed at him, he grew exasperated, and fairly threw the bird outside. Plainly, she called for his company and he again waved her away.
With the returned quiet, the Gatlvska returned to his weaving and for a while the day was the picture of winter serenity. The snow fell and the winds raged, but the fire burned bright in the hearth and the hut was warm. After all, Theodoric had repaired the structure to the best of his ability when he had first moved in a few months before, and although he was not a carpenter, he was rather good with his hands.
And so, when the supporting walls finally reached their limit, there was almost no warning. The hut creaked once, groaned twice, and then the world collapsed inwards in a blur of broken timber and swirling white. Theodoric was caught even as he rose to flee, a large beam pinning him solidly across the small of his back. Under the weight of the wood and increasing snow, the six-year-old scottishman struggled to breathe. Each successive breath became more labored as the night grew colder and colder. He fought valiantly to stay awake, but Theodoric eventually succumbed to the elements, falling deeply asleep in the chill snow’s embrace. His unconscious breaths grew less and less frequent until they finally halted all together.
The next morning when the snows ceased and the winds stuttered, Wynne returned to the crumbled hut. Seeing the destruction, the owl called and called to her lupine friend, but received no response. Her calls turned to cries of grief.
