[aw - CdA?] the tide and its slow decay
#1
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Cercatori d'Arte member only, please? Somewhere in Greater Halifax, sometime during the day; Vasi is in Optime.



Vasiliy is by me!

He walked, as he had for the past several days. Perhaps it had been a week since the ship landed in Freetown -- Vasiliy had lost track of time. There wasn't much point in keeping it when each day was the same -- get up, start walking, keep walking, sleep. Social creature he was, Vasiliy was disappointed with this walk. The land was pristine, but it was no more interesting than the ocean-vessel. Vasiliy thought he might have liked sea travel; he could not have been more wrong.

The ocean stretched before and behind them, vast and endless, much like the pine forests he'd hiked through to arrive in this coastal city. The grizzled wolf longed for company. He'd seen only a few travellers in his trek up the coast. A pair of coyotes had skittered away the moment they noticed him, though he called a greeting in English. The other -- well, clearly he was some sort of madman. Vasiliy had been the one to run from him and his ravings. It was no matter, though.

Despite never seeing the horizon of looming towers before in his life, Vasiliy knew where he was. This was the place his father had spoken of in his fever and ramblings. It is not so pretty, Vasi thought to himself, even as he paused to appraise the new city's skyline. Even then, he knew he wasn't being entirely truthful -- it was pretty, and the world around him teemed with wolf-scents, evidence enough that the place was heavily inhabited. The granite-furred man shifted his pack and started up again, moving steadily toward the part of the city with the tallest buildings.

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#2
(SIE!!!!! I have wanted a thread with you for like ever!)

Aylu had been search of another dagger. The one he had taken off the grey woman's body was great, equally balanced and everything but he was used to carrying two blades and his staff. He had taken Russell from pack lands and rode a few days time to a city he had heard might carry supplies that he would want and need for better protecting the pack and blankets for himself and maybe some different clothes. He wanted to find these so called pants and shirts that he seemed to find everyone wearing. He had left early in the morning and had made it to the human cities edge just as the sun was peaking over the horizon.

It was a glorious city even if the reminders of humans were all over. It was his first time in a human dwelling and he was curious on what he could find. He had made a sack to carry stuff in and tied Russell to a post before walking forward. He passed a few shops and went into one that had a pair of sweatpants that he tried on and decided he didn't like. He could smell other that had gone though the town, both old and new scents. He was so wrapped up in his search and the city itself that he almost didn't see the guy till he almost ran into the guy. "I am sorry... didn't see you there," he said looking at the stranger.
#3
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Vasiliy is by me!

Vasi was not so concerned with the landscape around him -- land was all the same, water was all the same. The people were what interested him. He knew they'd speak English; he knew his Russian was nigh on useless, and his broken Norwegian even more so. Beyond language, however, he knew little -- he did not trust his father's ramblings, for they were lacking in any semblance of sense. As he entered into deeper city, a familiar scent entered his nose. The storm-colored wolf paused, inhaling deeply and huffing the breath out a moment later, once he'd identified it as horse -- and Luperci.

Vasi was eager to meet someone -- anyone. He hadn't had a proper conversation since leaving Freetown. Perhaps he ought to have accompanied one of the traders north, but he wasn't one to wait sensibly by. He wanted to see the world, and it was right there waiting. The thought of remaining in Freetown longer than a night therefore passed completely from his mind, soundly dismissed by the call for adventure and unknown lands. This call wasn't quite something he heard, but rather something he felt.

The dusky wolf was not expecting the Luperci he'd scented previously to nearly walk into him, of course; the gray male appeared before Vasi, ducking out of a ruined storefront. The wolfdog jumped back, yipping a garbled curse in Russian -- his surprise was short-lived, however, for the man spoke shortly thereafter. To Vasiliy, the words were thickly accented but perfectly intelligible, and he grinned. No, it's okay -- I was not watching where I was going, the man said, trying his English out. It was probably as thickly accented to the stranger as his voice was to Vasiliy, but the gray male hoped they would be able to communicate nonetheless.

I am Vasiliy, and I am just arrive from Russia. Is good to meet you, the wolf declared, extending a dark paw toward the other canine, hoping for a shake. You live here?

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#4
Aylu perked as the man spoke back. Russia he said. It was nice to meet someone from another part of the world. He had read about Russia and had tried to learn the language but found it difficult to read and write. The male had introduced himself as Vasiliy. What an interesting name. "Hello Vasiliy. I am Aylu of Cercatori d'Arte. My pack is a few days ride from here on horse. Are you looking for a pack? You seem like the artistic type," he said with a smile. Maybe he could get the male to join the pack, have another Sentinel to guard it. Aylu bowed to the man slightly, his monk ways returning to him. He wondered what a male like Vasiliy was doing so far from a pack but remembered that the male wasn't from Nova Scotia. He was as new to this land as Aylu had once been.

"If you want you can walk with me while I try to find things and we can talk and get to know each other. I am sure a guy like you has been without company for a while Your new to Nova Scotia right?" he asked as he started walking again. He hoped Vasiliy followed but eh it was his choice. He wanted to get to know the male better, make a new friend perhaps. Maybe this male knew how to spar. Aylu was all for sparring partners. He smiled to himself and looked back. "Ya commin?" he called to the dark furred male.
#5
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Vasiliy is by me!

Aylu, Cercatori d'Arte -- both were strange names to Vasiliy, and he gawked at the other canine for a moment, still grinning, but less certainly. Pack -- yes! he yelped, starting up after the other canine. He trotted quickly to catch up and meandered along at the wolf's side, pale blue eyes glancing toward him furtively. Nova Scotia -- that is -- this place, yes? And Cercatori d'Arte is your pack? Sobirat'sya wasn't really a pack, but his family functioned like one. The Russos were their own pack, the Chekovs their own -- that they lived in the same general area and were not so territorial as their wild brothers was no thing to Vasiliy.

I am looking for new home, yes, the wolf said, glancing toward Aylu once more. He shifted his pack on his back, uncertain. Mine father was member of pack called Miracles. I do not want to go there, he said, declaring this openly. Rurik hadn't given him a good or bad impression of the pack he'd belonged to, but if Vasi knew one thing, it was that he did not wish to walk in his father's footsteps. He would therefore seek a new home, and seek it immediately -- he would not dawdle and linger as his father had. What is your Cercatori like? he inquired, bold as he pleased.

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#6
Aylu was happy to see the male come along with him. So he did want a pack and was asking about d'Arte. Aylu laughed softly before answering the male. "Yes this is Nova Scotia. Cercatori d' Arte or d'Arte for short is my pack. We are... artists. Creative people who trade and come together and enjoy each others company. I know some people from Miracles. They seem like a nice enough pack. They are a friendly pack to d'Arte," he said softly as he looked into a hunting store front and saw a wall of knifes and daggers that looked good enough to use.

"I have to go in here for a moment. I am a protector of the pack and need more daggers to take care of them. Are you a protector too? We need another protector. If you want to that is," he said softly before walking into the store front and looking at the daggers and machetes and things that seemed to be sharp enough. He pulled about three different blades off the wall and one he had to break out of a glass case. They were of various lengths and he smiled happily. Something new and exciting to use. He put them in his sack before seeing a human made bow. He twanged the bow and would replace the string but knew the bow would hold. He found arrows close by with metal tips and a quiver to carry them in that needed a few patches sewn in but it was all good. "You know how to use one of these? asked Aylu as he held out the bow to Vasiliy
#7
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Vasiliy is by me!

Nova Scotia -- so it had a name, much like Russia. His father's rambling had made little sense, and efforts to discover more information were rebuffed time and time again by gruff canines claiming no knowledge of the places Vasi knew by name. The man grinned and nodded, glad to absorb this piece of knowledge. The granite-furred male realized he might have spoken offensively about the Miracles pack as Aylu explained their friendliness, and his small ears folded back, his muzzle tipping toward the ground. Oh, no, I am sure -- nice, very nice, but... mine father lived there, and I do not want to go where mine father went. I make own path, he said, frowning and wondering if he was doing any kind of adequate job explaining what he meant. He hoped Aylu understood, anyway.

The Russian nodded as the wolf paused beside a building. His question was met with an embarrassed smile, his ears folding half-mast this time as he shook his head. He angled the hip with the sword toward Aylu and shrugged. I have sword, but I am not protector, no, the man admitted, holding out his hands to take the bow. He looked over it and shook his head. No. I have seen used before, but I am not shooter, either. Simple fisherman, here -- I boat, I swim, I fish, the man declared. I make boat, help repair boat, and sail boat when it is on water, he explained. Does Cercatori need lots of protectors? he asked, apprehensive over the idea of this region being war-torn and in constant strife.

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