passage
#1
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Setting Location Form NPCs
Location: Drifter Bay

Date: 16 Oct

Weather: Cool, calm

Time: Noon
Optime
Wilson
Mai

(--) Originally posted this from phone so it's short and I can't be bothered to mess with it.



Levent is by Sie!

He was weary coming down from the mountains, but for once he felt like he knew his place in the world: that of a slave resigned to his fate yet dreaming of something more fantastical than freedom. The only way to free himself was to leave these lands forever, but he still couldn't help but imagine this trip as temporary. He was going to go trade, was all, because it was the last thing he remembered how to do.

Freetown would be four days away at his pace, if he didn't dawdle longer at the base of Halcyon. Wilson told him as much, nudging him with his small white head, eager to get going after the encounter with Amy. Knowing how many times he'd brushed him off, Levent was inclined to agree.

Shouldering his satchel of necessaries and meager trinkets, the brown wolf stood and worked on saddling the horse. They set off, and Levent realized the consequences of not following the mountain trails for longer; they now had to find a place to cross at the Pictou River. He frowned, dismounting but leaving the cat balanced on the saddle as he tried to find an easier place to cross southward.

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#2
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(446) hahaha wait on a Raze thread? You cray.


It was a crisp day, and it was days like this that Salvia reveled in. She had hunted before dawn and, while mist still hung in the air, taken down a small deer. Her belly full, she had gone home and enjoyed a luxuriously lazy nap for about an hour. Then her internal alarms, subconscious as they were, drove her to motion again. The horses were excited to see her and both looked eager to go out. At seven months, Tiger was nearly his full size; there was still more growing to be done, but he looked like a horse now as opposed to a colt. Nacht, nearing two, was (in Salvia’s opinion) the more impressive of the two. She made low rumbling noises to them, scratched both along the jaw, and then decided to go riding.

She did not saddle the black horse, but did throw a shaggy reindeer pelt over his back. Tiger harassed her the entire time until, finally, she donned a soft leather halter on his head. He had begun training with it and was used to such a thing, as he was the lead. This she kept looped around one arm, far enough to give him room but enough to reassure her he would not run off. The older of the two mounts was used to this, having both experienced it himself and led Tiger before.

So Salvia went off, riding eastward and taking familiar trails through the pine forest. It was no longer flooded and only a few places remained spongy, and these she avoided with wide berth. Then, after they tramped through the stream that marked the end of Salsola’s land, she urged the horses to run.

Tiger was faster than Nacht, but he was still young and his endurance was not half that of the black stallion. They did not manage to go far at all before Salvia was forced to slow. Still, it was lessons like this her young colt needed to learn—how to follow, how to run, how to function when around other animals. He was an impressive animal and she hoped to stud him (and Nacht) during the next large summer trip to Freetown.

The wind turned and Nacht’s ears pricked forward. He extended his neck, sniffed the air, and let out a whinny. Salvia frowned and turned her head; she caught a hint of horse, but it was muddled by the water. She let the horse follow it and was surprised to find a wolf, horse, and cat across the river. Of course, she realized that her own traveling group must have looked strange, and so hailed the stranger with one pale hand.

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#3
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(--) Sucky reply in response to a Mel post? ... Maybe :C



Levent is by Sie!

The man had stood on the other side of this river back when spring was born amongst the lowlands, freeing itself from winter’s clutches. He’d sought passage then, optimistic and set upon his goal, traveling along the river’s bank but ever wary of the ocean roaring in the background. Not quite a year later, now that a too-brief summer was quietly dying into vibrant but transient colors, Levent Kartal knew there was much more to fear than the sea. He could still see the blood on his fingers; feel the life-beat against his teeth. He’d done worse things than any storm could muster.

The Turkish wolf clicked his tongue, bringing the mare’s head up as she stopped to nibble at some still-green grass alongside the riverbank. It hadn’t been hard back then for him and the feline to cross, but while they had fewer precious goods to fear getting lost in the current, the weather was colder and the horse was unruly even under optimal conditions. He was surprised she was as compliant as she was now, walking along as he led her, stopping occasionally to graze but not wanting to remain still with any conviction. Wilson, meanwhile, remained silent as he balanced in the saddle, dark sandy-yellow eyes surveying the breadth of the Pictou.

Suddenly a horse’s whinny broke through the burble of the moving water. Mai immediately lifted her head, ears swiveled forward, and let out a return greeting that spoke of friendliness and even a little relief. Levent had to smirk, knowing how much the equine loved her kind in comparison to the canines that insisted on using her for riding and other demeaning things. The bay paint tossed her mane and began to pull in the direction of the water, though she stopped awkwardly at the bank and only stared longingly at the pair of horses on the other side: one dark and one silvery, maybe a bit shy of fully grown.

The Luperci rider raised a hand, and Levent came forward to call across the water: “Do you know of a good place to cross, hanımefendi?”

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