the sun came out last night
#1
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Setting NPCs
Date: 17 August

Weather: Cool, overcast

Time: Evening

Location: Just east of the Flower Fields, CdA

Lots of boring expository here, don't mind me. <3


She still did not know what to call the mare. All of her previous mounts had come to her with names, and so she had never had to think about it. The palomino was demure and obedient and, after their first ride together, seemed to accept rather easily the fact that she had a new master. Cassandra guessed that she had changed hands frequently in her long years and it was easy to tell that the animal had been routinely overworked and under-cared for.


They rode through the grassy fields at a loping canter, heading northeast, and the pallid woman could not help but smile again at the convenience of having a horse again. Somewhere behind the clouds, the sun had begun its gradual evening descent. While still humid and muggy, it had been overcast for many days now, and for this Cassandra was grateful. She would always prefer the darkness hours, but daylight was helpful for many things, and moreso when filtered through clouds.


She had noted the presence of several packs when she had passed through the area the first time, though she had not chosen to approach any of them. Strangers she'd encountered and casually interrogated had offered up all the basic sort of facts, and she hadn't had a reason to want more than that. Three of them formed a sort-of triangle in the middle of the main peninsula -- all had similar-sounding names and were wolf-dominant, but supposedly they were all tolerant of other species.


They were nearing one of them now, and Cassandra slowed her nameless mare to a walk as a vast flower field came into view. The pack had no obvious visual border, but rather suddenly, there was a rush of recent scents piled on top of each other. They were still a good distance from any specific territorial scent leavings, but the trails of canines coming and going from their home made it obvious enough that the area was claimed.


Bringing the palomino to a gradual halt, the albino pulled back the hood of her cloak. The fields were beautiful, especially in the waning daylight. The colors were bright against the grey sky and distantly, she thought it was probably a lovely place to live. Shrugging to herself, Cassandra lifted her slim muzzle and let out a series of yips and punctuated the call with a short, high-pitched howl. Here to trade.


The horse snorted and shifted nervously at this noise. The hybrid dismounted and stood by the mare's head, stroking her nose until she calmed again, all the while looking out across the flower field.

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#2
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^^ yay

It was disconcerting, the rapid change in the atmosphere of the pack. Jace's near-betrayal of her family, clawing Honrin in the face so that his scarred appearance was not permanent, combined with the sadness of Eclipse's recent miscarriage brought forth a silent grief in the pack, thick as fog and as muffling as well. Skye shared it, carried it on her shoulders, although she did her best to alleviate the pain where she went - and it was lightening, although little by little.

The alpha female herself was now heavily pregnant, only a few days away from her birth, although she did not know it. Her stomach was not as large as some others' would have been - a small litter, she thought, or small pups, or more likely both for her stomach to allow her to be as graceful as she was - which, admittedly, was not much. She found herself travelling with Jack, her stallion, much more than usual, in case she needed to get somewhere in a hurry. Shifting, of course, was out of the question.

Jack nickered, as he usually did when they traveled along the borders together. She was ambling slowly, as to not strain herself too much, and Jack was keeping pace. However, his noise surprised her - he usually didn't vocalize himself unless someone or something else was near.

Her question was answered quickly - a high pitched, short yowl of sorts sounded from the borders, a bit of ways away from where Skye and Jack were. There were inflections and tones that would not be present in a wolf's howl, leading Skye to believe that it was a coyote at the borders. She tugged lightly on Jack's mane, leading him to where the noise had come from, wondering what the stranger would want.

As she pushed through the bushes and undergrowth, she saw the woman at her borders - she was white, all white, without a speck of color on her coat. Her eyes and nose, however, were pink. She also had a horse with her, Skye observed, which was almost as colorless as the woman herself. Jack fidgeted and nickered once more - although he was tame with Skye, he was still wary around strangers. She patted him absentmindedly, noting that the woman's scent did not carry any pack scent - she was a loner, most likely.

"Welcome to Cercatori d'Arte's borders," she said, a Cheshire grin gracing her face, causing her to look quite amiable and charismatic. "I am Skye Collins, the leader of these lands. What brings you here?" she asked, waving her hand towards the territory, the various bangles and bracelets jangling as she did.

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Invariably, when she found herself on or near the territories of packs and clans, she wondered what it was like to belong to a unit like that, and to really believe in the cohesion and camaraderie of the group. It was intrigue from a scholarly distance as she had decided, long ago now, that she had no desire to ever be a part of something greater than herself. She would pledge no allegiance and expect none in return, and this was how she wished all operated. The world would be a simpler place without promises of belonging, or at the very least, it would be a more honest place. But, you mustn't judge, Cassandra, her father said, and obediently, she dismissed the idle frets.


And it was just as well, because she was not left waiting long. A light-colored woman with reddish golden hair appeared from the undergrowth along with blotched, black and white stallion. Cassandra stiffened slightly when she noticed the stranger's very pregnant belly; the sight of it made her uneasy. While far from an expert, she was sure that the woman should not be out and about so late in her term, especially on the borders of her pack, unaccompanied? But she pushed these aside as well. It might well be too eager of her to assume the other woman incapable of defending herself, and in the end, it was not her business.


And so the albino hybrid smiled shyly, swept her ears back, held her left arm at her stomach, and gave the alpha female a low, graceful bow. "Cassandra Asylum," she said, her voice clear with earnest. "I'm in need of some supplies, and was wondering if I might be able to trade for them here." The nameless mare spared the new arrivals a glance and seemed to relax at the presence of company, but otherwise did not appear especially interested. "I do not have much in the way of horse care items, and this poor thing could use something for her saddle sores, if nothing else."


Cassandra straightened and gestured to the bag behind the saddle, though she kept her eyes politely lowered. "I've got a good supply of dyes, if your lady might be interested, along with a variety of jewelry, small boxes, and display items?"

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#4
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sorry for the delay Sad

She listened intently, her ears perked high, as the woman said that she came for trade. Trade, now, trade was something that Skye always welcomed and encouraged - trade was what kept her pack flowing along nicely, the cushion of protection that came along with the friendships that trade forged. Trade, yes, trade was something she could get behind, and she continued to listen, her eyes now gleaming.

Her eyes drifted over to the horse, who, she realized, was in slightly poor shape. The equine's head was bowed lower than normal for a horse, and it almost seemed dirty and battered - not in good condition at all. She wondered if the woman had traded for the horse, or had just neglected to take care of it until now. The items the other offered were quite tempting - dye was always welcome within the home of the arts, as were jewelry. Refraining from judging, however, she maintained her grin and stepped backward, inviting the woman into the territory temporarily.

"I'm sure that we can find proper care for your horse in exchange for dye and jewlery," she said, the grin never receding from her face. "We have some reins, and blankets for the horses - we also have aloe vera and cloth to help with those wounds of hers."

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#5
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Pff, what delay. <3 Feel free to powerplay them riding wherever, or walking, if Skye prefers!


The pallid woman lifted her head to return the wolf's broad grin. "Thank you. Blankets, aloe vera, basic bandages and a brush would help tremendously." Pale red eyes glanced a moment at Skye's swollen belly. "Should we ride? I'll follow."


Truthfully, Cassandra did not have much experience in trading. Once upon a time, she had many sentiments towards objects and material things, pieces of her childhood that held special meaning. Books and old, useless trinkets she had loved dearly, and it had pained her greatly to leave behind her cottage of wonderous nothings. But that was a different time, and life on the road was harder with too many things to carry. Before acquiring the palomino, she had been without a horse for many long months, and the only possessions she held on to were wrapped around her shoulders and tight around her neck.


Goods she obtained, like those she possessed now, were frequently stolen or otherwise taken from those that no longer required them (corpses needed nothing but a hole in the ground). More often than not, she got rid of them at the first convenience for far less than they were worth. A collection of glittering jewelry was only a hindrance on the hunt, and she did not care if they were "worth" far more than a knife in need of sharpening or the old pelt of a doe.


"Do you keep many horses here in Cercatori D'Arte?" she wondered after a pause.

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#6
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She was delighted to hear that the goods she offered would do nicely - dyes and jewelry were quite valuable in Skye's eyes. Not for their beauty, which was also appreciated, but because of the traders that often walked through Nova Scotia - it was quite easy to exaggerate the rarity and worth of jewels and necklaces, causing Skye to be able to walk away from many a trade with items worth almost twice what she traded them for.

"No need," she said in response to the woman offering to ride, "it's not too far from here!" She tugged lightly on Jack's reins, leading the woman and her horse to Thornbury, the heart and pride of Cercatori d'Arte's territory. It wasn't long before she could see the buildings of the town in the distance - it was quite visible, a stark contrast from the green trees and undergrowth that the forest offered.

The alpha laughed lightly at Cassandra's question as they arrived at the front of Thornbury, walking towards the stables where the livestock - and the inventory - was kept. "Certainly," she said, opening the doors to reveal the masses of animals that were kept there.

The stables were built at first as just an enormous empty building, but as time went on, sections were cut off and built and expanded upon. In the front were a dozen horses, clearly visible in their large stalls - near the back, the clucks of chickens and the bleats of sheep could be heard. Next to the horse stalls was the wall where the inventory was kept - various reins and blankets were hanging from the walls, and two chests filled with other tools and items were on the floor.

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omg Sunny, I never noticed that you replied. ;___; SO SORRY for the wait. D;


She was far from an expert on the history, but she understood that the Luperci usage of horses was a relatively recent development, at least on their continent. Truthfully though, Cassandra had a difficult time wrapping her head around the idea that civilizations existed in a distant place across the sea. Oh, it was easy enough to believe -- she had met dozens of foreigners, some with strange manners of speaking, others with peculiar habits and ways of doing things, and still others with rituals and practices, but all of them had stories, and there could be no great conspiracy to make up these other places. But she could not bring up the images in her mind. They were words, fantastic and distantly impractical, just words.


But she could not imagine a time without horses either. Her father had not grown up around them, and that in itself spoke for the recency of the culture, but for her, their presence was as much a home as anything else was anymore. The equine musk was familiar and her quiet smile spread just a little as they neared the building.


"That's quite a herd," the albino remarked. "It's been a while since I've seen so many in one place." Her unnamed palomino, which she had led alongside Skye's spotted stallion, seemed to perk up a little at the nearing company. "Were most of them captured or traded for? Or bred here?" Cassandra tied her reins loosely on a post outside and worked quickly to remove the saddle from her mare, setting it against the post. In turn, she unloaded the bag that contained her goods and slung the strap across her shoulder, letting the weight hang to one side. She stood at the entrance of the building and smiled to the wolf, "After you?"

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its okay! xD

Skye smiled proudly as the woman remarked on the size of the herd; it was true, that the d'Artisans had an impressive amount of livestock. What had started as such a small amount, so long ago, had grown and grown into what was now today - almost a powerful entity, allies with warriors and enemies of none.

"Thank you," she said. "We are proud of them." She then considered the question - most were caught or traded for, of course, and she wasn't sure that any of the horses, save for Grace, had had any foals. She knew that the gestation period of such animals was very long, too long to put a horse out of commission for. In the d'Arte lands, the horses came and went quickly, save for those who were owned, and those were the ones ridden the most. "Traded for, mostly, but some we caught. Most are tame," she added as an afterthought, thinking of one horse that Jace's family owned that was quite vicious indeed.

She entered the building, glad that the smell was not as powerful as it had been in the past - Honrin was a very useful member to have, indeed. She would remember to give him praise for his work with the animals. She turned to the wall with the horse's supplies, gesturing towards it. "Blankets, some reins, and cloth," she said, indicating that the woman could choose any of items to use for her horse. Most of it was easy to make and use, and it would be easy to replace them. What the woman brought, however, was quite valuable in the home of the arts.

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She ran her hands slowly over the blankets, brushing the fibers in the same direction while noting the weight and texture. Some were of heavy woven cloth, while others were softened pelts. The reins were all leathers, as were the few saddles that sat on the shelf. "All lovely work..." Cassandra murmured as she studied them. "What about these? All traded for as well? Or did your pack make some?"


Thornloe had mostly traded for or salvaged their goods, though there was one old hybrid that stockpiled pelts and occasionally made leather, which his sons would fashion into bags. Cassandra herself had never been much of a craftsman. She could use tools well enough to maintain an item, and had knowledge enough to make minor repairs or small modifications, but in general, she found it easier and preferable to obtain what she needed from others. As such, she did find her understanding of what made some tools superior to others a bit limited, but she was confident enough in her ability to not make the poorest of selections when it came down to it.


After a few moments of study, the pallid woman turned back to Skye a moment before setting her bag on the edge of one of the shelves built into the wall and emptied it of its contents: four small jars of crushed dye materials; an additional two empty jars, various carved, decorative boxes; a half dozen antler points with carved bases; a small, bounded leather book; three or four rings that were too small for most Luperci fingers, and a tangled mess of various necklaces, some delicate and simple, others gaudy and with clear signs of damage or impurities. "Why don't you choose what you're interested in first? I'm sure I can find things I need on this wall more than I need most of these."

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Skye beamed when the woman said it was lovely work - she agreed. Although Skye did not make most of the items found in the pack, she did take pride in trading for some, usually ending up with a bargain. However, those were things they did not have the means to make - these reins and blankets were easy for the d'Artisans to procure from learned hands. "Most of these were made," she said, "although some were traded for."

She cocked her head at the materials that the woman had brought - she gingerly opened one of the jars and felt the crushed dye material inside. "Very nice," she said. "Where did you get this?" She carefully picked up two of the jars of dye, yellow and red - difficult colors to come by, if not for the woman - and a necklace that while useless, would surely fetch something quite valuable from nearby traders who had eyes for pretty little trinkets. "Thank you, these will not go to waste," she promised, indicating the decorated colors of the stables that her d'Artisans had painted.

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"Most are just things I've found in my travels," she said of her goods. "The nearby city has been picked through by many, I'm sure, but hundreds of thousands of humans must have lived there in the past, each in their small space -- there is always something to find." Smiling vaguely, Cassandra picked up one of the rings and passed it between her hands idly a few moments before setting it down again. "The dyes I crushed myself... I used to dye my mane and fur a bit, but I think I've outgrown the style."


The albino looked up at the colorful patterns and drawings on the upper walls and ceiling of the stable when Skye gestured. She had never been an artist either and did not not really feel it was something she understood. She found beauty in natural scenery. Attempts to mimic such splendors seemed juvenille at best, but she did not condemn the efforts. Whatever made people happy, she supposed. "You must be very proud of your pack," she said, then turned back to the wall of tack.


She ran her fingers over her favorite blanket. It was a heavy wool weave, dyed a rusty grey and very, very soft. "Do you think this blanket, a brush, some bandages, and a jar of aloe vera would be a fair trade?"

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