[aw] if you want a job done right
#1
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Setting Form NPCs
Location: Thornbury, near the stables

Date: 26 July

Weather: Cool, cloudy

Time: Morning
Optime
Wilson


Mai

(523) Open for anyone! It could go along the horsey-route or diverge into somethin else. Since I only have a few Lev threads, I would greatly prefer fastish repliers. Smile



Levent and Wilson are by me!

Levent liked to think that he was good with all animals in the universe, but good did not necessarily imply that he was an expert at anything, except maybe cats. Horses, while he could communicate with them fluently enough, were a bit more difficult for him to deal with—and it seemed like, out of all the horses he could have traded for in the north, he’d picked the one who did not want to be ridden.

Bugün yavaş hareket edeceğiz, bayan, the Turk muttered as he hooked a lead to her halter and led her out of her stall with quiet encouragement. He was quicker to show his dominance than with other people’s horses, however; while he was submissive in both pack and herd to make it easygoing for all, he knew that he needed to show mastery over this horse. He talked as if he was used to giving her orders already and adopted his usual confident, carefree swagger so she didn’t pick up on the fact that he wasn’t entirely hopeful about this interaction.

While he walked her around the side of the stables, a white shape came trotting up beside them. The paint mare snorted, her ears lying back, but Levent quickly communicated what the small animal was and she relaxed, if with some disdainful tension remaining in her lip. He then shot a glare at the cat, who only greeted him brightly—and that Levent wouldn’t argue about. Ever since they’d returned from the voyage and everything was supposed to go back to normal, Wilson had begun to ignore him. At least, he was never this cheery.

Have you gotten into—?

Catnip? Wilson asked, his jaw opening playfully. Not since the other day, and that was a bloody adventure. Did you know that Sunrise and Kittensworth—

Levent laughed, which almost startled Mai again, although she recovered quickly and eyed him with some grouchiness. He apologized smoothly then tied her up on the other side of the building, making sure the knot was tight but could loosen quickly at a clever pull in case of emergencies. He stepped into the tack area, grabbing a saddle pad and saddle, and returned.

Apparently she doesn’t like riders, he explained to the tom as he set the tack on her back, although I’ve had her carry some supplies, and that doesn’t bother her.

You sure you should be doing this? Couldn’t a Gamekeeper?

The man shrugged, dropping the girth on her off side then reaching for it under the horse’s white-splashed belly. I might as well. If I have problems, I can just take her to our warrior allies. I hear they train horses, anyway, and I’ve got a suspicion that’s the cowboy fellow’s job, McCoy or whatsit. He paused, smiled. Amazingly cute guy.

Wilson snorted.

Levent buckled then tightened the girth before reaching up, rocking the saddle gently to make sure that it was snug on her back—then scowled when it felt loose. At that point in time, Mai loudly let out the breath she’d been holding, and Wilson ceased pouting long enough to laugh with his friend.

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#2
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(313) NOPE, SNATCHED. Also not sure if PPing the horse a bit in her tensions -- I thought the breath at the end was kind of like, "huff, sigh." but it could also be a sigh of relief. Let me know if needs edits!


Vasiliy is by me!

Vasiliy was coming back from his morning trip to the woods. He had breakfast clutched in one hand -- a pair of nice fish -- and he was wet to the knees and up to his elbows, if the fish didn't provide enough evidence as to his whereabouts. The Merchant had taken two fish from the stream in the hopes of encountering someone from the pack to share with. He wasn't a hunter, exactly, but he still felt inadequate and as if he was not providing quite enough for the pack in return for his membership.

When he was nearly at the edge of the garden, he stopped briefly to light a smoke, and his dark ears flicked upright at the muffled sound of a voice. Vasi picked his way through the garden, careful to avoid the orderly rows of plant-life. He had big meat-paws and big meat-hands, and he would smash everything to bits if he wasn't careful. While the granite-furred Russian was not exceptionally clumsy, he believed himself to be and took painstaking care to avoid damaging things in general.

When he was nearly to the cobbled ways, he spied a man, a cat, and a horse. One -- the Luperci -- was known to him, but this did not stop him from grinning and calling a cheery greeting to all three. Allo, Levent, he said, stopping his approach. He wasn't so knowledgeable with horses as to consider himself an equestrian -- as with much else in life, his knowledge was limited to only the most sparing of basics. He knew enough, however, to recognize faint distress in the animal. Her body seemed rigid, as if unaccustomed to the weight on her back. He would not wish to agitate the mare further with boisterous antics and loudness. Is nice horse, he complimented, half-cooing to the animal itself.

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#3
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(--) First, sorry for taking forever. >< Second, she'd been holding her breath in to blow out her belly, and so when she let the air out the girth wasn't tight enough. x3 But she is tense about the whole thing, too, so no problem!



Levent and Wilson are by me!

Levent began to berate the mare in gentle, teasing Turkish, crouching down to tighten the girth again and giving her belly a little smack to keep her from repeating the trick again. Moodily, she stamped a hoof, and he fell naturally into low speech to calm her. She complained back at him, very clear in her threats, and he scowled before a jovial voice shouted from down the road.

Merhaba, Vasiliy! the man called back to his fellow merchant. He rested a hand on the horse’s shoulder as she eyed the grey wolf, although she seemed fine with what she saw. Wilson, meanwhile, ogled the fish from behind Lev’s ankles.

Levent frowned when the Russian complimented the horse. Is gorgeous horse, he agreed, but she isn’t really saddle-broken yet. I got her during the trade voyage, from Vinátta. He patted her shoulder then offered the sailor a bright smile. That was a good idea. I was terrified out of my mind out on the stupid ocean, but the whole thing really helped us out.

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#4
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(314)


Vasiliy is by me!

Vasi shifted the fish in his grip and grinned at the little white cat. The heads and tails weren't really good to him anyway, so he might as well share those with one who might actually enjoy them. Levent's compliment, however, was more important to the dusky wolf than thinking about what he might do with the scraps of fish he cared not to consume. His eyes roved over the animal with silent appraisal, and he nodded. She was a gorgeous horse --even Vasiliy could tell a useless stot from a magnificent example of an animal, though the closer degrees of either were difficult to determine for him. He grinned, abashedly, and lifted a hand to adjust his bandana.

Levent, friend, was not even ocean! Was bay, he corrected, grinning. We never see real ocean, but you are right be scared. Tides in bay are no joke, he said confidently. He'd fought with them quite a bit while they were in the innermost parts of the bay -- the crossing from southern Whisper Beach coast to the Drifter Bay coast had been particularly tricky. But no worries with good captain and good crew. I try, he said, smiling. Maybe you try give horse carrots? Horse like carrots. Or apple, he suggested. Vasi had no idea how to break a horse, in truth, but food always helped any situation.

He slid his knife out of its sheath on his side and lifted the fish, gripping one by its now-slimy body. He neatly sliced off the tail and offered it to the pale cat. Want, kitty? Is yours, he said, kneeling so he might offer it more on a level with the creature. Food help make friend, he added, grinning at Levent. At least, he hoped so, anyway -- if he couldn't fish for Cercatori d'Arte, what else was he good for?

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#5
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(413) So crappy reply. D:



Levent and Wilson are by me!

Levent smirked softly at the exchange between wolf and cat, which as always resulted with Wilson backing up shyly and taking a seat behind his leg. His fluffy white tail curled around his ankle, and he tapped his fingers lightly against his thigh. It was a small signal between them, meant only to comfort; it said that Lev would pet him or scratch him behind the ears, but he didn’t feel like bending down. The cheek brushed fondly against his leg was the reply, and Lev was glad for that much. He didn’t care if Wilson was just pretending for Vasiliy; he’d missed the tom’s affection even if he had Hotaru’s to make up for it.

His other hand returned to the mare’s shoulder, and Mai seemed accustomed enough to that; she turned her head and went back to looking out at the rest of the town. When the Russian spoke again, though, it was to correct him on a rather distressing fact: they’d only sailed out into the bay. The Turk snorted at that, rubbing at the bangs trying to escape their cloth wrap, and wondered if that was the only reason he hadn’t gone into a complete and total panic attack—that it wasn’t a true pelagic journey.

You did good enough, Levent said, shrugging and smiling to show he was jesting. Everyone has their fears, though, and my fear happens to be your love. He guessed as much about the other merchant, recognizing the eagerness with which he’d captained the vessel. He wondered what d’Arte would have done with the ship had the foreign wolf not shown up to take control of it.

He nodded thoughtfully at the other’s suggestion, knowing that a bit of food would at least distract the horse from the fact she was being saddle-broken; he didn’t think she’d ever be truly friendly to him. He guessed he could always head back north to her previous owner to ask more, which he should have done rather than get caught up in other trades.

Wilson’s dark sand-colored eyes widened as the tail was sliced off the fish, and he crept closer, whiskers a-twitch as he sniffed the offered food. With a decisive purr, he snatched the tail with his jaws and went back to his spot behind his friend, wolfing the fish down happily. Levent laughed as the glutton swallowed then flicked his tail happily toward Vasi.

He’s right, you know, Wilson meowed. I like this chap.



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#6
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(303)


Vasiliy is by Sunny!

The thought made Vasiliy sad, but he could at least understand it. He liked things others might find boring, just as others liked things he found repulsive or even terrifying. The variety of different sorts of Luperci in the world was good in Vasiliy's eyes, though -- he would not wish everyone to like the sea as much as he did. If so, it would be simply... something Luperci did, like hunting or running or jumping. It would lose all specialness -- though he recalled the absolute fright of Levent and wished there was something he might do to abate that, all the same. No one should have to love the sea as he did, but it made him sad to see quite so much fear. It would have been the same if he had ever met a Luperci afraid of shifting form, or afraid to ride in a horsecart.

I help, if want, he suggested, shrugging. Or try. But -- if you do not like, you do not like. I am not to tell you different, he said, grinning down at the pale cat. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the fishtail. Would be like... giving fish head to horse, or apple to cat, he said, the strange metaphor occurring to him out of nowhere. You want I go see if something in garden for horse? Maybe saw a carrot or two, the wolf said. He'd have to take the fish with him -- or risk it being eaten by the cat. But in that latter case, it wasn't even a big deal. He'd just have to go and do more fishing, always a pleasant experience for Vasiliy. Especially on these coastlines, it was so much easier than on the frozen winter sea or even the summer stormy sea of his homeland.

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#7
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(--) I stop neglecting this thread now. >_>



Levent and Wilson are by Sunny!

That Wilson would proclaim his fondness of Vasiliy in high speech surprised Levent, but the remark seemed to be only for Levent’s ears anyway. He wondered if it was appropriate to feel jealous, caught the tom’s cheeky grin, and managed to nudge him with his foot in retaliation before returning his full attention to the Russian.

“Maybe I need help,” the brown-furred wolf admitted. “If I want to go on more trading trips—and especially if I ever want to return to my homeland.” He wasn’t sure if that would ever happen, with his newfound membership in Cercatori d’Arte and with his children on the way, but the ocean had been a massive barrier. If he could learn how to control his anxiety with Vasi’s help, then he might be able to make it back for just a trip—perhaps trade some goods, visit his mother in London, and whatever else he might be able to do. He’d always thought that going to Nova Scotia would be a one-way trip, but if he could just master his phobia of the ocean…

He laughed at the analogy then nodded approval at the suggestion. He quickly instructed Wilson to stay behind and watch the horse (and scream if she tried to eat him) then gestured for Vasiliy to lead the way to the garden, as short a trip as it was.

“Speaking of homelands,” Levent went on conversationally, “what was yours like? Do you miss it?”

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#8
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(333) I love you take your time woman Big Grin


Vasiliy is by me!

Vasiliy's tail swung in a slow arc, and he grinned. The dark-furred Russian was always glad to help, and if he could help with something he, too, greatly enjoyed? All the better. Maybe we try boat in river or lake first? Better that way, he said. No big waves, can always see shore. Vasi would, of course, first need to procure such a boat. Perhaps he might borrow one of the rowboats on the larger ship? He was not certain if such a thing was permitted to him. There were a great many rivers and smaller waterways in the inland areas -- perhaps most were able to be boated? If not, he'd have a long way to either drag his boat on land or fight against the current, but it was worth a shot, at least.

The wolf turned and accompanied his packmate toward the garden, casting a glance back toward the cat with a grin. Small domesticated felines were a far sight from the huge, frightening wildcats Vasiliy had the poor luck to encounter once or twice. He'd been lucky in that they were already full or simply disinterested in his flesh, but either way, he'd escaped unscathed. He did not have the same fear of the small white feline, however, and so he was perfectly happy to make a new friend. His ears perked toward Levent's question, and he smiled. He'd left Sobirat'sya behind for a reason, but now, halfway around the world, he found it was good to talk of home.

Cold lots of year, he said. Short, beautiful summer. Always the sea -- could hear it from mine room at home. We sail over it and make living with fish. Lots of family. Tough people, he said, shrugging. You? The man's accent was certainly not a local one. Vasiliy had seen some of the cities across the ocean, and he wondered whether it was one of these great places which spawned Levent.

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#9
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(387)



Levent and Wilson are by Sunny!

Vasiliy suggested a river or lake, and Levent nodded as he imagined them: a smooth expanse or a flowing channel. Both had their virtues and vices, and their vices combined brought the terror of the ocean, but he was sure he could handle one. He grinned, his ears dipping slightly, and said, “I can do lakes and rivers. I’ve got to bathe somewhere, after all. The ocean is just … büyük, big.” He shook his head and turned his gaze in the vague direction of the bay, holding his hands out to symbolize size. “Perhaps a lake first, though? No strong current to make us go when we don’t want to.” He had no doubt that the Russian, as experienced with navigating dangerous tides in a large ship, would be able to handle a smaller vessel in a river—but Lev wasn’t one to take chances with his safety. Or maybe he was just a coward.

Having visited many countries and briefly touched many cultures, Levent could easily see the picture Vasi painted of his homeland. He knew they’d have to be tough to survive in a cold climate, as well as deal with the ocean; few could make a living fishing treacherous waters. He smiled, and wasn’t surprised when the question was turned back onto him.

“My childhood was spent in the city of Istanbul,” the brown-furred wolf explained. “Or, at least, by the time I could shift I roamed the streets as an urchin. My father was a merchant too, so my early life was a lot of traveling until he settled me down in his birthplace.” He sniffed briefly, filtering the scent of the forest from the more various and tangled smells of the garden ahead. “My mother found me and brought me to London, where I met Wilson. After that, I took up my father’s trade and roamed all over Europe and Asia—so I guess my homeland is everywhere across the sea.” He smiled apologetically, inclining his head. “More of my life story than an answer to the question—but here are our plants!” He reached out to touch an odd leaf, able to recognize at least some of the herbs he could use in a pinch. Most were unfamiliar to them, but he was hopeful for something the mare might eat.


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#10
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373 SOHARDTOWRITEVASILIY with all the violence and drama and porns everywhere else, lol


Vasiliy is by me!

Calm day, small and flat lake, the Russian supplied happily. There were plenty of overcast days, but they needn't necessarily be accompanied by high winds. Still, perhaps for Levent's maximum comfort with the whole idea, they ought to wait for a perfectly sunny and pretty day. Vasi was convinced there was no better cure for fear than the surrounding and calming beauty of nature at its finest -- nowhere better viewed from the center of a mirror-still lake. Such days were rare within his homeland, but during the brief fall, Vasiliy enjoyed paddling to the center of one of the lakes or ponds and simply watching the world, throwing back each fish he caught. The larger salt-water fish were preferred, though now and again when he speared a sizable bass or trout he carried it home for a rare treat to be shared with sister and cousins, aunts and uncles.

He could miss minor things like that -- but he could not say he missed the entirety of it. He remembered too well the bickering and disagreements, the feeling of suffocation amongst so many that knew his name and each and every secret. The closeness of his family was what he missed and was most glad about leaving behind, strange enough. He thought, of course, this was something off and wrong about himself; he was the one unable to fit amongst his peers, as so many of his cousins seemed to do effortlessly. Vasiliy hoped the same would not happen here, but he could not be certain of his continued lack of severe mishaps.

Levent's story, in contrast, was a story of different places: Vasiliy imagined heading from one place to the next, then having an entire city through which to roam undisturbed. The prospect fascinated him, and he let out a slow breath. Interesting to see so many places, different things, different canines, he mused. Not like small town, only fish villages go visit.

The dark-furred wolf took careful steps through the garden, his bright blue eyes peering from one row to the next. Some sweet maybe? Berries? He bent to lift a red strawberry -- gently enough to keep it attached to the plant -- and looked at Levent.

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#11
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(231) Maybe wrap up soon? I've been so lame about this thread. ;;



Levent and Wilson are by Sunny!

Levent had never experienced life in a small town—but he imagined it as a settlement similar to a pack, with the same familial bonds and civic duty. He glanced over his shoulders at the cobblestone paths and wood and stone houses, smiling briefly. By that logic, Vasiliy might be called his neighbor rather than his pack mate, and the words were interchangeable enough anyway.

Such was the musing of a former vagabond.

“It is,” the Turk agreed, somewhat amused by the other’s interest. He shrugged and looked dreamily out into space. “One morning I might wake up at my mother’s house, and another I could be dozing on the side of a road outside Greece. You learn a lot, talking to luperci from different cultures. It can get very interesting.” He grinned toothily, thought some racy thoughts, and at last grew a bit more somber as he admitted, “You also don’t have a lot of time to make friends. Wilson traveled with me everywhere, and that’s about it. You end up leaving everyone else behind.”

The grey wolf reached for a strawberry, and Lev thought back to when he’d caught Hotaru picking some just outside of d’Arte territory. “That would be perfect,” he said, coming to stand beside him, and laughed as he plucked one. “Even if the horse doesn’t like them, I’d be glad to nibble on a few.”



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#12
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-- Yes dear! Dis can has be end. <3 AWKWARD AS IT IS. 8D


Vasiliy is by me!

The dusky-hued Russian pondered over Levent's statement. He'd never considered before movement would lead to a lack of friendship -- but it had, hadn't it? He'd departed Sobirat'sya, leaving behind friends and family both. He'd left behind Saint Petersburg and the tiny clan he'd run with there, but that had been different. He'd been expecting to keep at least Runa, considering they left together. It hadn't turned out that way, though. The same could be said of his shipmates -- though he'd formed bonds with travel companions and crew both, he'd retained none upon stepping onto land in Freetown. Would the immigrating families he'd spent many nights talking and sharing stories with even recognize him? It was a depressing thought, but he shook it clear of his head rather easily. He was in a place where he could find friendship, and here he looked upon a potential friend.

You have Cercatori d'Arte now, he protested good-naturedly. And friends. He did not know what precisely constituted a friend, but he was certain he could count packmates amongst them. Perhaps picking strawberries together made them friends. The prospect made Vasiliy grin, and he was quick to nab a few from the plant. There were a few brilliantly red ones, and more green and greenish-red -- evidence of a good crop. Sweet is good, he said, lifting a strawberry to his muzzle. His great grandmother had always said it would rot his pretty white teeth out of his head faster, but he'd never minded. But perfect for tempting horse, he added through a small mouthful of the fruit.

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