Marked as mature for language. 
[html] Hunkered down under the washed out roots of an ancient pine was Lockeheed, eyes glazed over, and mouth drawn down in a frown. He'd lit out of Halifax after his chance meeting with Haven, and now found himself feeling even worse for wear. The guilt, which previously encompassed the family he had failed to save, now included Haven and all of Cour de Miracles. The elephant on his chest had duplicated somehow into another, bigger elephant, and try as he might to shove them into the corner, he just didn't have it in him. The lonely man had nothing else to focus on, especially with the now gnawing absence of alcohol. The pack that had previously sheltered him for such a short time would likely not be as welcoming the second time around because of his sudden, unexplained disappearance before, and now with his terrible attitude towards everything in general. Then again, no one, aside from Haven of course, had even known about him to begin with. Locke was just a shadow on the wall.
He just couldn't be fucked caring at this point.
Leaning back against the earthy wall, he brought his hands up to draw his coat closer around his wiry form. His build offered precious little in the way of protection from the cold. So he reckoned he could at least be thankful for his clothes, which had surprisingly had few holes, or worn patches for all the traveling he had done. The colorful fabric of his bandanna (and all the feathers and trinkets attached to it), however, suffered with the wet of the rain and snow. The feathers would have to be replaced at some points, and the fabric was losing the vibrant colors that it previously had. But through it all, it kept his head warm, and his fur dry. His ears (which poked through two holes carefully formed in the otherwise uniform headpiece) brushed against the familiar fabric as he flattened them, and closed his eyes for a brief rest. [/html]
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OOC: I'm thinking we could backdate this to before he heads to Inferni if you're okay with that. SSWM - 426
Up north, it was snowing. Everything was white and as Jedidiah had finally reached the shores of these northern coasts, he couldn't help but feel humbled, awed by the way God's hand had shaped the land. It was beautiful, from the reaches of the forests to the edge of the sea. Everything was white, pure, untainted by the greed and sins of those who dwelt in these lands. He knew that wolves and coyotes needed to feed. He knew that soon, the blood of hare and deer would mar the white snow, the red standing out in bright contrast as once, no doubt, the blood of the Lord had been bright and red upon the cross. Slowly, he shook his head of the vision and looked around, trying to get his bearings. Jedidiah had never expected to end up in a place like this. But God had made him strong and God had kept him safe so he could find Gabriel. No matter what, he had faith and that would see him through.
The touch of humans was visible more and more now. He passed through Halifax, not knowing what it was and seeing instead the broken down shops, the burnt buildings, the signs that this was an inhabited area. Perhaps no one lived in the city itself, but it was not completely abandoned. He wondered if there was a church. It would be interesting to see if anyone came there. Would Gabriel? Did he have a church in his pack lands? Perhaps not. With these thoughts in mind he went further west and north, his paws refusing to feel the cold. He had a mission to fulfil. A calling to answer. Soon, he could smell someone, a hybrid. Intrigued, Jedidiah moved closer. He was shifted, this stranger, and wore clothes. There was no pack smell on him, but instead the smell of booze clung to the air, almost making him choke.
Straightening himself, he looked right at the stranger's face. It would not be Gabriel, but perhaps he could point the way. Brother, he called out. Jedidiah was aware of the difference in size. He could tell when he was at a disadvantage. But he came in peace, with no intent to harm. I seek Gabriel, brother. Do you know where I can find him? He knew he had precious little to go on. A name, a faint description and reputation. But, the coyote reminded himself, Moses had had even less to go on.
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[html] The deadening silence of The Dampwoods was enough to trust him deep within his own mind again. Without the blessing of booze, his mind was painfully clear and welcoming to the memories that haunted him every waking moment. Try as he might to block it all out and get some needed sleep, Locke couldn't ignore it. The first thing he remembered, as always, was the pristine beauty of his wife; the ivory of her pelt, and the constant amusement alight in her intelligent green eyes. He could remember her warmth pressed against him whenever they bedded down for the night or made love under the creaking wood roof of their humble shack. She was an intoxicating creature, and his feverish love for her was renewed every morning when his sleepy eyes opened to see her sweet face beside him. That same aching desire awoke in his breast, unbidden by the usual inhibition of alcohol. But it was a thirst that would never be satisfied again, not by her, nor any other woman.
Locke's eyes flashed open at the sound of footfall against the snow, and the images snapped out of focus before disappearing completely. His ears flipped forward, pressing against the fabric as he tracked the sound as it came closer and closer. It took a moment for him to realize that his hand had automatically moved to hover over the dagger at his hip, and it took another moment for him to calm down enough to take a steadying breath and relax his arm. As predicted, a luperci made himself visible between the trees, and approached with a neutral stride and expression. Locke studied the coyote warily for a moment before straightening, pushing himself off the roots to sit on his heels in a crouched position with his hands hanging between his knees.
The greeting that he offered was unusual to Locke, but not entirely unheard of. This was either a creature of deep religious beliefs, or merely his own way of respecting strangers. Either way, it did not set off any alarms in his mind. Canting his head slightly he replied, voice coarse with disuse, "Gabriel?" The name didn't ring any bells, not that it would to begin with. His previous stay here rewarded him with no more than one acquaintance, after all. "Can't say. Never met a Gabriel, but I haven't been here long either." He said. Maybe the younger man would leave now, and continue his search, or perhaps he would stay and ask more questions. Regardless, Locke was open... for now. [/html]
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OOC: SSWM - 362
Jedidiah had seen wolves and coyotes in the garb of humans before and he was not sure what to make of it. On the one hand, he had never needed anything more than what God had given him as fur, but on the other, he had learned how to read and he knew basic medicine, didn't he? And God certainly never spoke of coyotes walking on two feet and speaking with the tongues of men. It was challenging on a man's faith to simply compare themselves to humans, because it was obvious that no matter what they did, the four-legged ones would never be humans. Still, it was always interesting to see how they adapted and clothing was something which fascinated Jedidiah in particular. The way they adapted holes in trousers and hats, the way they made sure everything fitted well on a frame it wasn't designed for... it all spoke of internal creativity and something which God had blessed them with.
He had hoped that one who bore the signs of travel would be well acquainted with Gabriel. However, it seemed that he was in for a disappointment. Had God wanted him to? Jedidiah assumed that this was the will of the Lord, for why else should he be tested? He was being tested to show patience, willpower and discipline. And he would show it to the Lord no matter what. Dipping his head slightly, as if in prayer, he tried to think of what to do next. He wanted to find out as much as he could. Even in ignorance, he could find gems of truth. He wondered how this hybrid felt about God. Did he, too, follow the Word of the Maker? I see. Well, brother, God works in mysterious ways. Perhaps you are not the one to show me the way, but I am grateful that the Lord has brought you into my path. Tell me, oh, brother, do you also follow the Maker? Do you pray for salvation of your soul or do you live in wilful ignorance? He spoke softly, knowing his words were harsh. Jedediah wanted to save the souls of others, not alienate them.
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