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Neutral
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Ignore I'm an idiot running on coffee and three hours of sleep:') |
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Neutral
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Armand Cain | Male | 23 | Hunter | mentions: No one, open There was something awful and dreadful about the cold. It nipped at whatever piece of skin that was exposed. Tiny knives drove themselves into his lungs with each breath he took. Frigid air settled into his bones, making them feel frozen and heavier than they would be had he been in more accommodating conditions. Armand breathed out a breath of warm air feeling thankful that today was unlike those times in the usually frigid town. Emotionless eyes watched the people who inhabited this strange village. Lips pursed tightly together as he watched for any sign of anything peculiar, anything to report. There was a strange drunken feeling that came with the status that he unspokenly had over the natives as a hunter. It was a feeling that imbued him with the will to do whatever he deemed necessary to these poor helpless people so that his people may cleanse them of their shifter problem. Who would've ever heard of such a curious thing? A town that was full of shifters. He wondered how it even came to be in the first place. Legend has it that the human's accepted them into their town in return for safety and protection. Armand's father would be reeling thinking of humans needing protection from shifters. Abominations are what his father would call them. Crimes against nature, things that had no right to exist in this world and threw off the balance between man and beast. Nothing like that should exist, according to the graying man. Armand sighed out, his eyes closing as he parted his lips slightly, warm air slowly escaping his lips as he thought about his father who was such a callous and bitter old man. Though who could blame him after losing most of his family to an illness that was said to have been introduced to his village by shifters. Mortimer, his father, hated each and every shifter with a passion that burned hotter and fiercer than the pits of hell. It was an admirable thing really, to know that his father was a man that had such strength in his beliefs and held onto them tightly without ever letting them waver by outside opinions. He would consider them from time to time, but in the end, his values were strong and had it been for something that wasn't inclined towards the genocide of an entire species of sentient beings, perhaps Armand would've expressed his admiration towards his old man's stubbornness. Armand opened his eyes again, a slight heaviness settled in his chest thinking about Mortimer and their falling out when Armand expressed that he didn't hate the shifters for the deaths of his siblings and mother. It had been a tragic and terrifying thing because for the first time in his life his father looked at him with something other than cold indifference and instead looked at him as though he were something more disgusting than a slug inching across the ground. Armand had never been so upset and felt so betrayed, his father cursed him from their home. The deaths of his family still a fresh wound and to hear his son express such a sentiment was like mixing alcohol and rubbing salt into a deep and still bleeding gash. Armand simply sighed at the memory as he lazed on the rooftop of one of the various cottages in the town square, blank gray eyes watching the townsfolk, his attentiveness never wavering. |
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Lightbringer
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Elizabeth Winters - Feminine - 21 - cook - M: open . Eliza took a deep breath, inhaling the cool air. It was reassuring. She loved the cold and preferred it greatly over the heated kitchen environment she was used to. She shut her eyes and leaned over the wooden balcony, letting the frustration of accidentally burning her last batch of bread, roll off of her in waves. The wind brushed her blonde hair, pulling flyaways from her ponytail. . She watched the smoke drifting from the tree line on thin wisps almost obscuring it. Elizabeth hated them. Hated them for trying to ruin the balence that had been established for thousands of years. Now they were trying to rid the town of half its members. She shook her head and goes back inside, to restart the bread. She felt bad for the shifters, knowing that death would occur if they were found out. The thought was miserable. . She found her way back to the stove, still hot from the fire that burnt her last batch. She pulled out some ingredients to make more and slapped it altogether, shoving it into the oven, to cook for the remaining members of her town. The town that she loved despite the cold. It was refreshing and even got a little old, being as she grew up in the very town. |
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Neutral
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Horace Umbra / M / 23 / Polar Bear / Mentions: His father, Nala, bakers/cooks Horace looked at his dad. “Well, maybe we could head to the farm on the outskirts of town and ask to take a couple of dales horses, then head over to retrieve a wagon. It’d be much easier and you wouldn’t need to work so hard,” Horace said, rubbing the back of his neck, his hoody was off, so his iridescent green eyes would catch the sunlight, making multiple glints come off. His calm demeanor shifted as his father spoke. “You think I’m made of money? There’s no way we can afford a horse, better yet a wagon. We’re doing the deeds we need to, to survive. We can’t purchase hay for the horse, or even reins. We’re just fisherman, you need to know that we don’t have the wealthiest job,” His father said with a deep tone. “And we aren’t asking for charity either,” His father stared daggers at Horace. “We don’t need the entire village worrying about our situation,” His father was stubborn to the point where his pride never pierced his personality. Yet it could get annoying sometimes. “We’ve been saving up, if we could spend it on getting a bigger boat, we could catch more fish, then we could earn more,” Horace added on, “Eventually we can work up to getting horses, I trust your decisions but help wouldn’t be so bad. After all, we don’t want you breaking your back while trying to retrieve fish for the village,” Horace said with a kind tone. He said it from the heart. “Even so, Horace, you must remember that getting horses costs with the additional price of daily food and fresh troughs of water. You’d end up putting in more work retrieving water buckets for the horse rather than doing actual work. It’s just too much ya hear me? Now drop the subject,” And there, his father’s nose twitched. “Somethin’s comin,” He said looking around. Horace grew wary and also scanned the area. Finally, they saw a large pure white panther with beautiful piercing eyes looking up to him. His father wasn’t too frightened of this, they both would be able to transform into bears if things had gone worst. “Father, she’s hungry…” Horace watched as the panther eyed the fish in the net. “Too bad, we ain got fish to spare, remember? All that talk about saving up money for the horses and boats?” His father nagged. But Horace replied back, “I thought you were going to change the subject? Plus a couple of salmon missing wouldn’t be too bad,” Horace placed his hand into the net of live salmon, her gripped onto two salmon tails and tossed it to the panther. His father made a large grunt before continuing on. But Horace gave a warm smile to the animal before carrying on with his father. The eventually made it to the village, they walked into the butcher house, dropping the fresh salmon onto a large table. The relief of having the pounds taken off led Horace to exhale sharply. Horace collected the bag that held their days’ worth of money before heading outside of the butcher house with his father. “I’ll be in the house, go make magic with the mayor,” His father patted Horace on the shoulder before he carried onto the small hut. Horace sighed, not really good at talking, he expected to talk to some of the bakers first, wanting to tell them about the newly added recipe; salmon. |
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Darkseeker
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Finyx Brooks - female - 17 - scout - snowy owl - mentions: Samuel
Nyx landed on the branch of an old oak, her spotted wings tucking in against her body as she watched the world around her.
A light wind was shaking the the trees around her; the summer birds were singing to the rare warmth, even though she knew people that weren't used to the cold this far north this was comfortable to her; in human and owl form.
She could've spent the entire day in that tree, listening to the song of nature, just simply being part of it was enough.
A shadow fell over her face when she remembered the other side of her life- the human side. There wasn't any peace, hunters kept saying she and her kind were a curse, she always had to fight back the urge to attack them, but she had no skill in close range.
The distant howling of a wolf pulled her out of her thoughts. Spreading her black spotted wings she silently flew towards the call; her brother had found a game trail.
Her sharp golden-yellow eyes spotted the creamy white figure easily enough- the snow had melted a while ago to Sam's dismay, now he needed her to scout out the game- not that he could hunt alone in his wolf form in the first place, he was too weak to attack deer and elk on his own.
She circled around the trees, looking for the familiar movement of deer; her brother always called her when he got close.
Sure enough the herd was there.
Finyx landed on a small pine above her brother who had turned back into his human form holding his bow- he wasnt as good a shot as herself but she was never quiet or careful enough to get in range by animals unless in her human form.
"They're to the north, right past those trees" she said, nodding in the direction of the herd.
"You want to try hunting?" Sam asked, raising the bow.
"Nope, I'm supposed to be scouting, now that I'm done I have to go back, have fun" and with that she flew away.
She never understood why her brother called her when he found game- he already knew where they were. |
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Lightbringer
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Michael Sorenson - Male - 25 - Baker - mentions: His mother. The soothing scent of freshly made bread filled the little cottage as the young man stood near the counter kneading dough to be shaped into loaves that would soon be put into the stone oven. In the open window were a couple of the freshly made loaves cooling in the morning air. Flour coated the apron and arms of the young man as he worked with a little bit dusting the tips of his hair. Michael was humming as he worked thankful to be one of the few that would be up so early in the morning. It was a time he could clear his mind and not worry about getting pulled into trouble by his friends. Even though he loved them dearly, sometimes he wondered what it would be like to stay in the bakery and perfect his tarts. A hand ran through his hair to clear it from his eyes but added more flour to the golden locks making them more of a white than a blonde. Soon he was putting in a new loaf and turned to grab the couple from the window carefully setting them on the counter before cutting them and wrapping them to be delivered later in the day. If Michael wasn't busy at his own bakery, he would offer his help to a couple of the others around the town since he never wanted to have idle hands. Maybe it was his way of avoiding those that liked pulling him into shenanigans or he was trying to practice his skill set. His humming stopped abrubtly when he opened the new sack of flour he had recieved and got a puff of the finely ground material covering his face. The young man blinked his eyes a couple of times to clear them of the powder before letting the laugh that rumbled in his chest escape his lips. "Of course only you would be the one covered in flour from head to toe." His mother's soft voice cutting the laugh short as he turned to look over at her with an innocent grin. "You know I never plan to make this much of a mess ma'. I try to hard to keep most of the flour in the dough and bag when I am working." The woman was already at his side wiping the white substance from his hair and face as he spoke. It may have looked childish to those looking in but something in the male couldn't stop his mother from repeating the actions she had done when he was just a small child. |
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Neutral
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Marietta Pleasant - Female - 18 - Scout - Badger - Mentions: Just her family Out in the garden, a lone female sat, watching the clouds drift by. Her dark curls blew in the wind, and she let them. Today she didn't care if her mane of curls blew in her face, blocking her sight and making her slightly uncomfortable. It was only fitting. She stared off into the distance, the air feeling nice against her skin. She enjoyed the days when it was less cold, though they were very rare. It reminded her of when she was younger... The sound of her father snapped her out of her thoughts. "Marietta! You've got a job to do! Get up and do it!" Marietta chuckled and stood, straightening out her torn skirt and white tunic. She then tied her hair back out of her face, leaving one curl out of her ponytail. She didn't bother yelling back to her dad and ran out of the garden, a small smile on her face. She loved her job and she loved her town. She loved how unique each and every person was, from their family life to their animal form. Every thing about Fellborn is special, in so many different ways. She ran to the woods, and kept her eye out for any game she could inform the hunters of or any signs of predators in the area. She walked along a dirt path, scanning each area of the forest for something worth reporting. She would look at the ground, squinting her eyes slightly to see if anything would look clearer. When she saw something shining on the ground, she would bend down to take a look, only to find a small rock. Her dark curls bounced slightly in the ponytail as she walked, taking in her surroundings. So peaceful... The sun would shine down through the trees, illuminating useless pieces of wood and stone. Nothing worth using. With a sigh, she sat down on a large log, her brown eyes still scanning the woods surrounding her. |
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Neutral
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Shay Cormac Connolly - Male - 29 - Baker - Mentions: None for now If Shay could think of a word to describe how he felt at the moment... It wouldn't be exhausted. No, that would be too much of an understatement. As of late he'd found himself struggling to fall and stay asleep, thanks to his mind always staying on what he had and hadn't done that day. Adding less sleep with some of the strenuous work he had to complete during the day, such as hauling certain ingredients, it left him feeling completely drained at night, and no better the next day. Mentally, he reminded himself that he was still young; this should not be such an issue for him. He still had energy, he didn't have to worry about any major aches or pains that came with age. And yet, he was finding it harder and harder to accomplish enough to feel as if he'd completed enough work. Maybe he just needed some time out, alone. Not that he wasn't already on his own most of the time. He worked completely on his own, seperated from the other bakers and cooks of the town. Shay liked it this way. It gave him peace of mind, not having to take orders from someone else. Well... Besides the occasional delivery he made when asked to. But he was content to stay in his own place for the most part, hence why he was so rarely seen outside, save for when he needed to get extra ingredients that he didn't happen to have on hand. At the moment, Shay wasn't working on anything, simply idly poking at the embers of the dying fire beneath his stove. Earlier, he had been experimenting with a few recipes, but given that they hadn't turned out the way he'd been wanting, he'd decided to take a break to think of a better way to go about it. However, inside here, he couldn't think. Perhaps, Shay considered, he could head into the forest for a bit, try and clear his mind. Yes, that would be a good idea. Hopefully no one would try and bother him. He doubted anyone one, but it never hurt to think about. Standing, he retrieved his cloak, despite absolutely not needing it, and his knife. Strapping his knife at his waist, and throwing the cloak over his shoulders, as he reached for his gloves, he paused for a moment as doubt hit him. Maybe he shouldn't go out..... Perhaps it was better to just stay in, and keep trying. Shay shook his head, clearing those thoughts. No. He wanted to go to the forest, and that was what he was going to do. Before doubt could settle in again, he pulled his gloves on, and headed for his door. He quickly opened it, and giving himself little time to adjust to the light, as sharp contrast from the interior, Shay stepped outside. Too late to turn back now, he supposed. |
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Neutral
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Horace Umbra / M / 23 / Fisherman / Polar Bear / Mentions: Michael and his mom Horace tossed the pouch to his father, he had other plans in mind. A fisher’s job was quite odd. They fished in the morning, sometimes they’d fish in the afternoon if the fish were feeling shy and they weren’t able to get many. Yet Horace and his father had a routine. They’d travel from each lake every day, letting one repopulate as they fished in the other. Some days they’d get the lake closest to the village, other times they had to travel out miles to get a good fishing day. Those days took hours to retrieve the fish back over to the village. They used to be able to do it as polar bears, which they’d manage to do it within seconds, but now, as men they had to do it by hand. What was I going to do… Horace tapped his chin before remembering. Ah! Michael should be up doing something. Horace pushed his ruffled hair back before walking over to the memorable baker’s domain. Like a little sly puma, he looked inside, his head poking out like a burglar would look in a comedy show. His iridescent green orbs focused on Michael, opening a bag of flour as it puffed out on his face. Eventually his mom came into to ruffle it out, and that’s when Horace went inside, making a silent wave towards his mom, greeting her with no words, just the movement of his lips. He hoped that his mother wouldn’t give him away. |
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Lightbringer
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Nalaea Leogwyn - Female - 22 - Hidden Shifter/Horse Breeder - White Panther - mentions: Horace, his father, then Marietta Had the pair been talking about buying horses? The large feline picked up the salmon tails watching the father and son pair for a few moments before dashing into the trees once again. She carefully climbed up one of the larger trees and stretched out setting the tails on the bark holding them with her paws before starting to eat them. Maybe a deal could be struck...I need to talk with Dreyvon. Of course she would write a letter to thank the pair for giving her something to eat and have Dreyvon offer a helping hand for using a horse and wagon. They had many that they could spare and now was the time for working the stronger horses. Her tail lazily swung from the branch as she worked on her meal happily purring softly. Maybe later in the day she would try and swim in the lake to clean the dust and grime from her skin that was beginning to bother her. Normally she wouldn't risk being caught but she had waited long enough and night wouldn't appear fast enough for her to wait. Her ears perked hearing the sounds of someone approaching. She quickly ate the last of the fish and brought her tail up moving father into the dense growth of the trees. When the human sat down on a log not far from the feline, Nala carefully inched closer keeping her body tight to the branch making sure nothing would alert the person below to her presence. Right now she didn't want to fight, she just wanted to find a place to climb down from the tree and disappear into a deeper part of the forest to shift before heading to the lake. Her bright blue eyes watching for even the slightest hint that her position had been given away. |
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Winter 
Day 
