Colder Winds
#1
Amy had held a dispute with a pack member here. That didn't stop her from returning. Just because she had fought with one didn't necessarily mean that the pack would turn her away. After all, Amy had broken Caspa's ribs and knocked her unconscious, yet the court held no ill will against her. No one had been told of her actions. So she stood on the edge of the southern most pack, tail swaying in thought as she looked in.

Things were going well in her life, even if she was carrying a devil's spawn. She hated him with all her might, but that wouldn't kill the pups growing in her belly. It wasn't large yet, just the tiniest bump as an indication. Only her mood changes and the other familiar signs had tipped her off. It wasn't Fang's, she knew it instinctively despite her wishes to the contrary. Amy might just ask him to become her mate though, to cover up the fact that the pups' father was someone she wanted to kill. Lifting her head she let out a deep howl, waiting for someone to come.
#2
[html]


He's in his lupus form and his Spirit Guide is not visible.



art by crypsis

There was a demanding cry from the north, and Anatole veered towards it. He was on four legs and moving quickly, trying to make sense of the tone. It was enough to have his fur prickling along his spine, and conscious of this fact (and the fact he was dealing with a stranger) he adjusted his posture. Head tall, tail a black tipped flag behind him, he came out of the underbrush expecting something more than what he found.

It was a woman, a dog at that, and one early on with pups. She smelled of no pack, but of many others—a loner, albeit one who was frequented by company. The pregnancy was early along. If he had been another man he might have considered this reason to think of her as weak, as somehow untouchable—Anatole was not. Not here, when survival was easy. Not when she was not accompanied by a man or by a pack. Obviously, she had made the choice to live alone and no part of him found this reasonable. If a woman did such a thing, she asked for no mercy. He would give her none.

“What do you need?” He asked bluntly. A warm rush of air brushed against his face but he did not turn to look. The Spirit Guide’s invisible presence was noted; if there was trouble, she would be able to go for help.

<style>
#anatole-fullbody {
font-family:'times new roman', times, serif;
font-size:14px;
width:95%;
margin:0px auto;
line-height:18px;
}
#anatole-fullbody p {
text-indent:50px;
padding:0;
margin:10px 0;
}
#anatole-fullbody p.anatole-img {
text-align:center;
text-indent:0;
font-size:11px;
font-style:italic;
float:right; margin:5px;
}
#anatole-fullbody .txtooc {
text-align:left;
font-size:12px;
font-family:georgia, serif;
text-transform:none;
font-style:italic;
font-weight:normal; }
#anatole-fullbody .txtooc .word { font-weight:bold; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-style:normal;}
#anatole-fullbody b { letter-spacing:-.5px; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 12px; }
#anatole-fullbody u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; }
#anatole-fullbody b.npc { letter-spacing:.5px; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; }
</style>[/html]
#3
A large dominant wolf slid out from the bushes. Amy measured him calmly, taking in his form without much thought. He was clearly strong, but probably wouldn't be interested in trading. That wouldn't stop her from attempting, of course. Perhaps he would reconsider once he saw what she had to offer. Perhaps he could get supplies. Trades didn't always come from the most typical of places. Amy knew that very well, trading with all types without fear or remorse.

His words were blunt, challenging her presence. Amy's tail flicked back in response, but she managed to stay calm, taking on a welcoming smile. I'm not here from need. I have simply brought with me items to trade. I was hoping to exchange for items with this pack. I carry all kinds of items. Perhaps there is something you need that I could grant you. The sweet spiel was ended with an indication towards the laden wagon for him to study.
#4
[html]




art by crypsis

Trade was, obviously, not something Anatole even considered. He was so underexposed to such an idea that the cart was not even considered until she mentioned it. This did not prompt him forward; he instead looked at it, took it in, and turned back to her. She was after something, or hoped they might be, and Anatole certainly did not think that AniWaya was lacking for want. Still, he would humor her; at the very least he was curious as to what brought her around. Most traders didn’t seek out packs, but instead went to where true profit could be made. He had heard the name “Freetown” mentioned more than once in his travels.

Finally, when she had explained herself, he advanced. Though on four legs he was tall enough that he didn’t need to crane his head far to examine the odds and ends within the cart; he scented something living and flicked an ear. Everything seemed redundant to him; they had most of these things within the Tribe. He looked over to the dog again. “I don’t see anything AniWaya might need,” he explained to her. “Most of this we already have.”

<style>
#anatole-fullbody {
font-family:'times new roman', times, serif;
font-size:14px;
width:95%;
margin:0px auto;
line-height:18px;
}
#anatole-fullbody p {
text-indent:50px;
padding:0;
margin:10px 0;
}
#anatole-fullbody p.anatole-img {
text-align:center;
text-indent:0;
font-size:11px;
font-style:italic;
float:right; margin:5px;
}
#anatole-fullbody .txtooc {
text-align:left;
font-size:12px;
font-family:georgia, serif;
text-transform:none;
font-style:italic;
font-weight:normal; }
#anatole-fullbody .txtooc .word { font-weight:bold; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-style:normal;}
#anatole-fullbody b { letter-spacing:-.5px; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 12px; }
#anatole-fullbody u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; }
#anatole-fullbody b.npc { letter-spacing:.5px; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; }
</style>[/html]
#5
His gaze was surprisingly blank. There was no curiosity, no open hostility, or anything else that Amy could use. He didn't even seem to really grasp the wagon behind her, simply looking at it before turning to look at her again. A touch frustrating for her really. At last he came forwards to explore the wagon, sniffing curiously at everything that was inside. He was large enough to not need to change to view inside, Amy leaning against the wagon to see what he would make of it.

Disappointment flickered through at his words. She did have more exotic items, but it seemed that he was fairly serious. Surely not everything that's here. I have items that come from across the sea, after all. Those items tended towards the jewels and other things that weren't living, or very practical. They didn't fall into the category of something that might be useful, but Amy felt challenged by his words, trying to come up with something he would like.
#6
[html]


I looked at her shop so hopefully it is accurate X.x He's motioning to the raspberry plant, just fyi. :>



art by crypsis

The quick appraisal he had given was one based on his own concepts of goods. As the golden dog urged him on, he regarded her flatly, but did in fact return his gaze to the wagon. Without asking, he hoisted himself up and rested his forepaws over the edge. It allowed for a better view, and Anatole looked within the cart slowly now. His eyes lingered on several things, and after a long moment of thought, he motioned with his nose towards them.

“The arrows with the metal tips and the bows,” he spoke aloud, listing the things that might have potential. “That plant. The dye,” he added, thinking of his cousin, deciding the gift might please him. He dropped back down to all fours and regarded her for a moment longer, but continued to speak. “We have tobacco here, and woven blankets I can offer. If that’s not enough I can also bring you some of our food.” These seemed like a fair trade; Anatole knew that tobacco was a commodity, especially when already dried and prepared. He did not smoke it himself unless prompted by ceremony, but recalled many a stranger who found the stuff to their liking.

<style>
#anatole-fullbody {
font-family:'times new roman', times, serif;
font-size:14px;
width:95%;
margin:0px auto;
line-height:18px;
}
#anatole-fullbody p {
text-indent:50px;
padding:0;
margin:10px 0;
}
#anatole-fullbody p.anatole-img {
text-align:center;
text-indent:0;
font-size:11px;
font-style:italic;
float:right; margin:5px;
}
#anatole-fullbody .txtooc {
text-align:left;
font-size:12px;
font-family:georgia, serif;
text-transform:none;
font-style:italic;
font-weight:normal; }
#anatole-fullbody .txtooc .word { font-weight:bold; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-style:normal;}
#anatole-fullbody b { letter-spacing:-.5px; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 12px; }
#anatole-fullbody u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; }
#anatole-fullbody b.npc { letter-spacing:.5px; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; }
</style>[/html]
#7
His gaze was empty, but he did move closer. She stiffened slightly as he held himself up, gazing into the wagon. If he damaged anything he would be paying for it. Despite his size nothing was deeply unsettled, the dog slowly relaxing again. He was slow looking through it. Amy nodded her head, pulling out the arrows, the raspberry plant, and the small pot of dye. His offer was poor. Considering it Amy placed the raspberry plant back.

I can trade you the dye and the arrows in exchange for tobacco, two blankets, and a week's worth of meat. A fair enough trade. The raspberry plant was hard to keep alive though, and hard to locate. While it grew wild in some areas, when it was located it was usually fiercely guarded by the ones who found the precious source. She couldn't trade the plant away for the simple price that he had named, though the other items were just fine.
#8
[html]




art by crypsis

A very transparent frown crossed his face as she removed the plant. He had thought his offer very generous, and watching her remove one of his items was frustrating. She even further expanded the demand for a gross amount of food. The large wolf lifted his head and looked at her directly, jaw set and voice stern. “I’ll give you half of that for what you offer,” he countered, and flicked one ear to show his displeasure in the deal.

“Our blankets aren’t like the ones you’ll find elsewhere,” he further explained. “They are…ornate, and well made. You would make more profit for them elsewhere,” Anatole concluded, thinking of the vast amount of supplies returned from the Festival. While he himself had not gone, the bounty brought back considerable gain considering what they had taken. “I’ll give you three blankets and meet your other terms for all the items. And you make keep the bag which they come in,” he added, looking at her pointedly. Their bags were likewise decorated, and while this was something many in the tribe did to pass time, their value had been impressed on the scout.

<style>
#anatole-fullbody {
font-family:'times new roman', times, serif;
font-size:14px;
width:95%;
margin:0px auto;
line-height:18px;
}
#anatole-fullbody p {
text-indent:50px;
padding:0;
margin:10px 0;
}
#anatole-fullbody p.anatole-img {
text-align:center;
text-indent:0;
font-size:11px;
font-style:italic;
float:right; margin:5px;
}
#anatole-fullbody .txtooc {
text-align:left;
font-size:12px;
font-family:georgia, serif;
text-transform:none;
font-style:italic;
font-weight:normal; }
#anatole-fullbody .txtooc .word { font-weight:bold; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-style:normal;}
#anatole-fullbody b { letter-spacing:-.5px; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 12px; }
#anatole-fullbody u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; }
#anatole-fullbody b.npc { letter-spacing:.5px; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; }
</style>[/html]
#9
Summary:

Amy agrees to the trade, including the bows, arrows, and dye. A pouch of tobacco, along with 3 days worth of food and the blankets are accepted as payment.


Forum Jump: