Whispers In The Air

Mido · 01-01-2012, 11:45 PM

[html]

Word Count :: 854 points :: 7 yeehaw! Back Dated to the 24th of December.

Mido rode through the outskirts of the run down city of Halifax toward its center. Once again the multicolored male had borrowed Anathema’s communal mare, not thinking anyone would mind if he did. Looking down at the horse beneath him he could see its pool like eyes, seemingly unemotional from his current point of view, but very captivating face to face. Halifax seemed to be a regular vacation spot for the Dasa, whenever he just wanted to get out of Anathema or was in need of something, the city of Halifax seemed to be the answer to much of his problems. This time around, the purpose of his trip was in search of a new weapon, one of different feel and variety. The air was crisp and cold, enabling him to see his breath as he exhaled, upon inhaling the air would chill his throat and lungs making them feel like they were seizing. Bringing the horse to a halt he dismounted and tied it to a rusted downed street light. He would leave the elegant beast to its own devices, except that he feared boredom would settle in and the horse would be gone, and he would end up without a ride back to Anathema; not high on the list of things he wanted to happen to him.

Searching through the cities remaining buildings, he was looking for a weapons shop or store of some sort. He recalled this thought from a text book he had read once; it was a place where humans would exchange money for weapons in a seemingly agreed upon deal. Mido never came across one before but he was really hoping to find one. It seemed like hours had passed, it felt like he had rummaged the entire city, and with no luck so far, he began to lose hope and enthusiasm in his search. At the corner of a tightly packed suburban area stood a really bare looking building, some of the large, body sized red letters on top of the building’s front had fallen off of it. What was left of the letters read acks racks. Approaching the building brought its size into perspective for the huskadore, it was big, definitely not the biggest building, but bigger than most of the homes around the area. Acks racks had minimal windows that he physically couldn’t get to for his lack of ability to climb walls with nothing to grab onto. The front had double sided glass doors, unable to see through the aged and very dirty glass he gave the handles a tug, of course they would be locked. He knocked on the glass a couple times; it was pretty dense, dense enough that he could hurt himself trying to bash in the glass. He turned around and looked for something to assist him through the front doors, tilting his head with squinted eyes he smiled. He walked away from the building toward what he saw would help him. Bending over he picked up the rock, holding it up in front of him he was satisfied, it was nearly a perfect sphere. hahaha, I think this will do just fine. He spoke out loud to himself. He ran as fast as he could and threw the fifty plus pound rock at the doors, hitting the left pane. The sound of the shattered glass filled the air, followed by the thud and rolling of the rock.

He stepped through the now empty frame of the door into the building. Inside was mildly dark, what he could see was thanks to the remaining few hours of sun light left. There were three floors, the top two were some kind of apartment or loft, where there were beds, bureaus, stained pictures and belongings of the deceased. But what really got the canine excited was the bottom floor. The walls were lined with swords, bo staffs, axes, and these devices called guns. At the back wall was a glass display case filled with an immeasurable variety of hand held weapons. From what he could see, there were throwing knives, needles, shuriken, kunai and so many weapons he had never even seen before. This was the kind of place that warriors dreamed of. Putting one fist inside another he smashed the glass on the display case with his elbow to get at its contents. Mido pulled out the set of weapons that caught his attention the most. Essentially they were hand held blades with a scythe shape to them; looking down at the tag under the weapon it read Kamas. He held them firmly in his hands, these were really built for close combat, the edge on them was still sharp, and they were lethal. Something seemed to draw him to these Kamas, like they were made just for him. He placed the Kamas into his back pack along with everything else he could possibly stuff in it from the case. He was going to have to clean up and rearrange his den; he would need something to hold the massive amount of weapons he was now going home with.

Table by the Mentors!

Login




Remember me Lost Password?