house made of paper
#1
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dated to the 20th.

Word Count → 380, 3 points


The coyote had decided to ultimately halt her wanderings for some time to come. Anyways, without much to be noted: The weather would become too cold to travel in anyways. The hopeful Tradition-Keeper had tried so hard to excel her rank, to get herself out of the Zepar position until it was exhausted. Religion, precisely the one this pack seemed to believe in had deeply inspired the Lykoi princess, and many of her beloved painted or starch white skulls and pelts had been traded around for the precious literature she so craved. She had educated herself with many beliefs and superstitions, all the while becoming much more curious in the matter. It was early in the morning, she could tell. But the previous night she had spent her time feasting her eyes so willingly, not wanting to put the book down. Like any young person (or perhaps anyone in that manner) Elody was deeply fascinated with the concept of magic, and the prospect of practicing it...Excitement had welled in the coyote's heart.

The more prolonged her stay in the cavern pack, the more she hoped to learn. When was the pack established? Who had made it a reality? What mortal genuis had possessed the knowledge to situate Anathema along such a stable stronhold? For a moment she placed the book down, a small finger in between the worn pages to keep from losing her spot. Perhaps her questions would be answered by someone like the Angela or Rakheeb, but how must her approach be made? Would her desire to move up as Tradition-Keeper be expressed? Heart thumping, she made her stand, exiting the her room's fur-draped door.

Her feet were slightly chilled on the cold cavern floor, all the more reminder that Autumn would approach soon. This was rather new, as her own autumn had intermingled with the snows of winter--And so forth she had been only a young one. Instinctually however, memory didn't matter. It was going to be cold, and there was simply no fighting the elements. Rest aside, she found herself decisively walking into the communal hall, not yet perhaps--Until acknowleded, Elody would lay low and commence her practices as normal. Book still in hand, the Lykoi girl curled up by the fire, reading once again.


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#2
OOC::Yays! WC::300+

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Yet again the seasons were in shift. Along with the dipping temperature, the trees were shedding their leaves that collected on the ground. The aftermath from the hurricane was quite extensive for the pack trouble makers; even still they weren’t completely back on their feet. Since losing the majority of his possessions he didn’t feel right in his den, so he spontaneously elected to claim Alaki’s old one. The past Angelo’s smell and presence were long gone.

His breaths were shallow and quick as he could clearly see the unconscious imagery in his mind. Rarely did he dream or recall anything anymore, but since the ambush at Halifax he could easily remember the restless nights. In this recurring nightmare Mido had been too late to catch the archer and Axelle died. Shit! He tore out of his sleep, sitting up he put a hand over his eyes. In the midst of all the fighting he hesitated to retaliate against the woman and child, they were only there for deceit. He almost missed one of the bandits ready to shoot his friend. It was a moment of weakness that angered him beyond all reason.

Quickly getting up from the furs that carpeted the cold hard floor he moved to the entrance of his new den. What time is it anyway? His sense of time was so far gone. Still he wasn’t use to its placement as it opens up directly into the common room. The Rakeeb stood there holding his right arm, the injury he received felt like it was on fire. Panda had been so kind as to clean and stitch closed the huge gash in his muscled shoulder upon his return to Anathema. What would the mutt do without that woman? He stood in the doorway eyeing the small figure near the fire, uncertain who it was from his perspective.

Without a single sound he made his way to the young Lykoi girl. Silently he just watched her for a moment. Eldoy looked comfortable curled up by the fire with a book in her hands. Mido remembered seeing her during the gathering from the hurricane, but he never made her acquaintance. What do you have there? He asked, standing over her out of vision. It was obvious to him that she was reading, but what?


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#3
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quick post....

Word Count → 307, 3 points


Often the book would tell her of a different sort of way to bring luck and prosperity, be it a bloody sacrifice to the higher beings, the blood being the life-liquid to the gods. It fascinated the youth, that one sacrificed chicken could bring Anathema luck. She read of tales of chaos, only to be healed by the black magic she found herself enthralled in. Perhaps that was the reason of the hurricane. Dissatisfied, the Higher ones had thrown rage upon their back, a punishment for their neglect. Ellie could tell it was getting late, as a yawn slipped from her dark muzzle. It didn't matter however, sleep was tedious: but the lack of it was pleasing Them. An ear twitched as the soft scape of paws among the ground was heard, glancing around if only for the slightest second. For what the hybrid feared was a scolding for being awake so late, which was simply just absurd. Who did that?

She flinched as a voice was heard over the silence, green eyes widening to see a shadow, just a little beyond the firelight. She showed the leather-bookcover to the man, it was a lovely leather-carved ankh. It's just about the culture here, I think...It is so intriguing. The Zepar flashed a smile, his voice slightly familiar from the meeting. She had first feared it was Itzal finding her, but since that night--Everything had been disarrayed out of proportion. Why are you up at this time? I mean...I've been reading this since dusk... Placing the book down flat, her page saved, the coyote crossed her thin arms over her abdomen, expecting some sort of reply to her choice of books. Some said choosing culture at a young age was healthy. Almost comparable to having the tiniest of sprouts grow quickly, from the things from the book she absorbed.


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#4
WC::300+ OOC:: I do miss threading with you, as they are fun.

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To his curiosity the Zepar showed him the book she had been into. It had a leather ankh on its cover, the embodiment of information was a little on the old side and full of character. She explained that this particular read was about Anathema’s culture and that she found it intriguing. Already learning about our culture? She is a studious little thing isn’t she? She’d asked what he was doing up at this time. The Rakeeb gave her a look, one of bewilderment and confusion. Now he really wasn’t sure what time it was. Was it dawn since Elody said she was reading since dusk, or was it anywhere in between? Either way he had no idea. Wait, why is this girl questioning me in the first place? For several nights now the mutt had been plagued by nightmares, unfortunately he was unable to get any restful sleep. He only wished they would end what would he have to do to make them stop?

Moving beside her he took a seat close to the fire. The warmth from the flames was indescribably comfortable. He grabbed a small round stone and placed it close to the source of heat. Can’t sleep and why are you questioning me? You must have a better excuse than reading a book to be awake, no? He turned the question back on her his tone authoritative. Who was she to question one of her leaders?! The fire occasionally snapped and crackled. The mix had been a bit entranced by the dancing flames before locking her in his brightly lighted sights. What is your interest in our culture anyway? Are you just curious or is there a reason for it? It intrigued him a little that she was interested enough to read straight on since dusk; he himself didn’t have that kind of attention.


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