good night, good guy - p

[Lannen Haddix]

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It was full night by now, the sun having set more than two hours ago, but Lannen was still in plain sight. Even at full dark, the white man's coat set him apart against the sky of black. Sometimes he despaired of that fact. Although winter was not his favorite season by any stretch of the imagination, the snow that fell plentifully at least afforded him some sort of camouflage. The rest of the year, he stuck out like a sore thumb. That, and a white coat was a bitch to keep clean.

Lannen had scraped and dug himself a fire pit close to the borders. He sat outside his den now. He had dug it out quite a few weeks ago. It was a small, cramped space, but Lannen didn't have the heart to invest any effort in anything bigger. Although his den was very modest, he spent most of his time mobile and away from 'home' anyway. He found that living in close proximity to the borders was a salve to his mind, too, soothing territorial instinct.

The white man, by some miracle, had managed to find dry, viable fire wood. The storms had stopped, for now anyway, so it hadn't been as hard as he had initially anticipated. Kneeling next to the ring of stones and wood, he struck at it until the wood leapt into flame. He squatted on his haunches, looking into the vibrant warmth searchingly.

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[Dawali Amara]

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Word Count: 382 Dawali's two legs carried him steadily along the path, his mind troubled with several items. Where was his daughter? And how would he fix his ceremonial suit? He could weave, sure, and he could sow to some extent. And he could prepare leathers, and make simple tools... But he couldn't sew that well, his stitches weren't fine enough to deserve being on the ceremonial suit at all.. It had been Mischka's line of work, but he was fairly certain Asha and Aiyanna knew how to sew better than he. Especially Asha had spent more time with Mischka growing up, she might have picked it up somewhere. But Asha was so independent, and Aiyanna was nowhere to be found. And soon it was time for the spring festival, and he would need to wear it. It wasn't vanity, exactly, that made him need it to be fixed; it also told others of his status and line of work - two things he was very proud of. Also his family had their own trademark to their ceremonial suits, as all other families had, and it served him as an identity of sorts. His brow was frowned in thought as he skillfully ignored Gvihita's annoying chirping on his shoulder (she was doing it on purpose too, the little witch), until a few flashes of light ahead made him look up, and stop. It soon became solid fire, and Dawali knew someone would be there, lighting a fire. He smelled nothing out of the ordinary, thus it was probably a tribe member. Eager to get the worrisome thoughts out of his mind, Dawali sped up, until he finally saw the form of Lannen, staring into the flames he had created. Stopping at a distance (he was certain the other had noticed his approach anyways, as it hadn't been free of sound) he called out to the white male whom he had accepted into the tribe quite a long time ago. Hey, Lannen! Gvihita frowned at him: she had had much fun tormenting him, and now that joy was gone. Lannen would not be able to see her, and depending on the nature of the conversation she would leave him altogether. Most of the time she didn't care about what he did unless he got in trouble.

Awesome sexy table and avatar by Kat! [/html]