| |
Neutral
|
Horace Umbra / M / 23 / Fisherman / Polar Bear / Mentions: Michael, Nala, Dreyvon, Ren Horace let his iridescent green orbs drift, watching as Dreyvon picked out a tall stallion. He seemed slim, his appearance really didn’t seem to fit Horace’s needs. He nodded, acknowledging Nala’s words before placing one of his hands on to his chin. “I see, he does have a kind heart and deserves a good home, but we are in need of a draft, preferably smaller than this one, one that would do good against the cold without needing extra care. I don’t really mean to put much attention into one of these magnificent beasts, the hunters are on tight patrol, we need a tank to pull the halibut for us,” Horace tried not to sound so picky and arrogant. “I know, all horses need attention, but as the harsh winter approaches, I’ll be needing to work a horse more than love on one,” Horace had to face the reality through words, his soft tone edging towards his patience. “I don’t mind whether it’s stallion or gelding, could I take a look?” Horace looked out to the field of horses, his eyes focusing on each one. He heard Ren’s voice in the back, talking about how he traveled down south to retrieve an alliance. “An alliance? Between whom?” Horace turned around to look up to the tall red-haired man. “Just one of the trading centers, in exchange for gold we were able to create a treaty that lasts 2 trips. They won’t shoot me when I try to trade, it’s more of a passing tax fee, but I’m fine with it. I guess now you know why I earn so much but lose even more,” Ren ruffled his dark red hair, Horace shifted anxiously. “How’d you get that cut?” He asked Ren, and Ren only shook his head. “A Hunter, 35 miles south of here tracked me down from another village, good shot but I was too fast for him,” Ren had a cocky smile form on his face, but Horace quickly made it disappeared when he spoke, “Then how’d you get hurt?” Horace exhaled slowly, waiting for Nala to give him the pleasure of choosing which horse he wanted. Laark Umbra / F / 19 / Hunter / Mentions: Sadina, Sam, Sabine Laark leaned against the tree. She couldn’t stop thinking about how smooth all of them were-well, most of them. Some just charged without thought. They all stuck out for each other, whilst the hunters just tried to get the kill first, or join in the fight for the thrill of the kill. Her heterochromatic eyes shifted from the rushing creek, towards Sadina, as she filtered her hair with her fingers and put her hair in a ponytail. Registering her words, Laark huffed. “Not all of them lie,” Laark looked down to her feet. She was showing empathy. Within a split second her tone changed back to its harsh words. “Even if it is insane, I do. It’s not like I go believing shifters and everybody 24/7, even if it isn’t a pack of wolves, he has friends. Friends that would do anything to rescue him, no matter what you call it, that’s a pack. Loyal and true to each other,” Laark looked back over to Sadina. “I couldn’t say the same for us.” “Yea, that bitch of a mare got the drop on me when I had that man pinned. I could’ve struck her with my dagger before, now I regret it,” Laark didn’t really regret it, but they had all judged her so quickly, it made her frustrated. She just wanted to see them interact, she had settled down in an obvious relaxed position when they sent off the warning. “I bet they think the same about us,” She pursed her lips. “Imagine what they said to each other when they saw me retreating. Weak,” Laark was talking more to herself now, getting more agitated at the minute. They caused themselves to get hurt, Laark was acting in defense. Although, the first move was partly her fault. It wasn’t her fault that they all got triggered to attack, if she were to run, they’d come after her. Either way, if it wasn’t for that damned wolf that had to try to edge her away, Laark wouldn’t have gotten into this mess. |
|
|
| |
Darkseeker
|
Artem // 17 // Male // Hidden // Dhole // M: Sam, Tallinn, Sabine Nyx, Mike He made eye contact with Sam as the man said his name. Giving a small tilt of his head as an acknowledgement he said, "In the flesh." He decided that the area was safe enough, and that he didn't need to stay covered anymore. He knew their faces, and they seemed to know him. He pulled down the fabric across his lower face and flipped the hood down. Giving a slim smile he followed Sam's gaze to Tallinn.
She still looked a little slanted on her feet, but was overall getting better. He gave a nod as he listened to the request and turned on his heels. He typically didn't work with many of the other shifters, unless dire need.
"How'd they find you guys anyway?" He asked, not really pointed towards anyone. He was actually curious, they weren't normally near this area of the forest, and that was a concerning matter. |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Connor Westley|Male|22|Puma|Guard|Mentions: No one for now. - Connor rolled from his small bed, which was so small that his feet would often touch the railing when he shifted,yet large enough to sleep comfortably for the night. Or maybe he was just used to it. He didn't know himself. What he did know was that he'd never forget his younger days with his parents. Life was great being an only child. Je was paid all the attention and got almost everything his parents could afford. I mean..It still wasn't much, but it was better than the life he was now. Life as a guard was..okay. He loves his job but there are some cons that come with it but definitely some pros. He has to risk his life to save the town and people if it came to it and he also has to keep his training up. Often tiring himself out by making a bag of flour his punching bag or kicking trashcans out in the woods as to not disturb anybody. On the other hand, after a quick patrol-He can visit one of the bakeries in town,maybe get himself a slice of bread while conversing. His most favorite bakery would be the one where Mickey and his Mom cook up all the pastries...Or was his name Micheal? He pushed himself up off the floor,knowing good and well that he had dearly overslept. His thin, though wavy locs flopped over his face in a craze. If someone were to see him right now they probably wouldn't know it was him. Connor licked his chapped lips as he stretched his arms. He wore a tightly fitted black tank top that engaged nicely with the muscles that he had. On his legs were light gray which hugged his waist enticingly. After his little stretch, Connor pulled his hair back into messy bun with the hair tie on his wrist. He didn't know why he favored a bun more than a pony tail. He just often thought that it suited him better. He trudged into the bathroom, taking a nice and soothing 5 minute shower before hopping out and wrapping a towel around his waist. He clutched his toothbrush, which previously lay on the sink counter- in his hand. Slathering a good amount of toothpaste on it before swiftly brushing his teeth. He watched himself in the mirror, a habit he'd often do while he zoned out. His long,shoulder hair was slightly wet, some strands cascading out from the already messy bun and onto his forehead. Water dripped from his chin and onto his slightly toned chest as he brushed his teeth. His striking blue eyes glared back at him, and he began to watch himself as he made faces while brushing his teeth. Something that he normally did when trying to get all the good spots. He knows he'd never live it down if someone pointed out he had some leftovers in between his teeth. Connor soon finished,setting his clean toothbrush down and then ruffling his own slightly wet hair. He headed to his quarters, which was small. But not smaller than average. It contained a closet and two dressers. The blunt wallpaper often made him want to rip it all off and paint over it, but he planned to save that adventure for later. Connor got dressed,leaving his towel to slowly cascade off the bed and onto the floor. He decided to wear a sleek, wooly knitted sweater made from the fellow knitters of the town. Beneath the sweater, he wore fitted dark pants made of old cloth. His choice of clothing fit his frame nicely, for one wouldn't think he was struggling but also wouldn't think he was wealthy. To finish it off,Connor slid on some clean looking shoes. He arranged his hair into a better looking bun and then checked himself out on the mirror. Maybe it was just his ego but he genuinely thought that he looked handsome, deciding that growing some stubble was a good choice so far. Before he left his room, he grabbed his gray cloak, a hood attached to it. He properly attached it to himself, afterwards grabbing a thick belt that would often glimmer in the sunlight, and wrapped it around his waist. Connor finally left his quarters, striding into the living room and passing the fireplace, comfy couch, and other necessities. He soon reached the wooden door,easily opening it and exposing himself to light and comfortable air. The scent of lavender body wash engulfed his frame, engulfing his charming smile and wide eyes as he began to think of all the things he missed out on. |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Sadina Rose - Female - 19 - Hunter - Mentions: Laark Sadina took a deep breath, letting her thoughts wander for just a moment. What if she would have just stayed out of the fight? Or what would have happened if she charged in there with her sword, defending her fellow hunter. She hated the shifters, sure, but there was no denying how much chemistry they have. She was brought back to reality by Laark's words. She looked at her, listening to all she had to say. Then she raised an eyebrow. Empathy. Somewhat new. "Friends, eh? Well, maybe he does have these so called friends. And maybe they are his pack. I believe if our whole group can get together and chat for a while, we could develop the same bond. It might be a stretch, but seeing as they were stronger together, that could apply to us as well." She chuckled slightly at her next sentence. "Fair point." She sighed once again. "I apologize for not helping you sooner. I could have majorly cut that bitch with my sword. At least enough to make her back down." She truly wasn't looking for that much of a fight, preferring to stick with manipulation and charms. But the more she looked back on the fight, the more she regretted not doing something. "The shifters are extremely afraid of us. However, they don't get that some of us have real reasons to do these things. Very complicated reasons. You weren't weak, Laark. You did the best you could." She took a deep breath, mostly to take in the scent of the fabric over her mouth and nose. She always wore this, but never told anyone how she got it. In fact, she didn't trust anyone. Not since... (insert cliffhanger here) |
|
|
| |
Lightbringer
|
Nalaea Leogwyn - Female - 22 - Hidden Shifter/Horse Breeder - White Panther - mentions: Horace, Michael, Dreyvon, and Ren Nala nodded and motioned for Horace to lead the way. "Of course. You know that some horses are not just what they appear right?" She followed his gaze with her own and placed a hand on her chin scrunching her nose in thought. "So you want the heavy draft type of horse." She headed in the direction letting loose a whistle that seemed to draw the horses over to the fence line. A dark mahogany bay mare plodded over to them putting her head over the fence. Her dark brown eyes watched the group of people and lipped the shoulder of Nala's shirt when the woman turned to look up at Horace. "Is she what you were looking for?" The mare had thick sturdy legs with heavy feathering around her larger feet. Her shoulders carried muscling from her neck into her ribs and then from her rump down her legs evenly. She was an almost perfect example of the heavy draft breed Clydesdale. White markings covered her legs and dotted her flank and muzzle. Nala pushed the mare's nose away from her shoulder rolling her eyes. "A mare is just as good as a stallion or a gelding. Don't discount the females. Also her coat is coming in nicely. You will just need to brush where the harness rests against her skin. If you don't, you run the risks of saddle sores which will put a horse out of work for longer than you would expect. It can also sour a horse to being tacked." She climbed up to stand on the fence for a moment before jumping down to land gracefully next to the horse. Michael watched Nala walk away then noticed that Dreyvon had returned the stallion and held the halter loosely at his hip. "Nala understands these creatures better than even father did. Sometimes I think they just tolerate me being around." Michael raised an eyebrow remembering the comment about a hunter. "Did he follow you here Ren? Is there a possibility that they may have done more than just fired at you?" Worry for his friends filled his heart as he looked between the two taller men then over to the woman and Horace. Dreyvon placed a hand on his shoulder with a warm smile. "Don't worry about us Michael. We have our ways to get out of situations." A scream filled the air causing Nala to take her attention from the mare and catch a horse running full speed through the field straight towards the fence. Nala had already broke into a run before Dreyvon could reach the gate to let the horse into the area by them. Nala stood in front of the opening keeping her ground as the thundering steed barreled towards her almost as if she didn't exist. Dreyvon reached towards his sister but stopped when instead of mowing over the woman, the horse reared letting out another squeel before hitting the ground with his front feet just a few inches from Nala. Nala gently moved a hand to the mare's face cooing softly as she moved to the horse's neck. Fear evident in the eyes and quivering of the animal's body. "Easy girl..." She whispered focusing on only the animal under her fingers. |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Jackson King-Male-21-Hidden-Wolf-Mentions: Open After watching the whole ordeal unfold he got bored quickly. Even though he hadn’t had food in a couple days he was pushing out the urge to turn into a cannibal. Leaving behind the poisoned people and shifters he let out a soft growl of disappointment. It was then that the sudden pang of jealousy hit him. That whole group had defended eachother. They had a pack basically. As a loner it hit him hard. Wolves were born to be in packs but after leaving he didn’t have anyone else. Walking away felt almost like betrayal. It brought back the memories when he left the town. He wasn’t proud that he had left the torn up town but it was the only choose if he was going to live. Every step his heart was saying turn back and show himself but his head was screaming so he kept walking forward. His large paws were soft despite their size. The blue of his eyes twinkled in the sunlight as he walked through Patches were the gold light shown down through the tree tops. Looking back he heard the the sound of them talking and let out a soft sigh. Right about now he really wished he had a pack seeing as they would all hunt together and he would have eaten today. Once facing forward he started trotting. He knew they probably would move soon and he didn’t want to be found in case they were spies or something. Once he was far far enough away from the group he slowed down and shifted. Walking towards the town he knew he shouldn’t play around but he needed food. Waiting behind a building he made sure all was clear before he shifted again. The meat stand was close and if he just walked trough nobody would mess with him, right? Walking from behind he building he flicked his tail in annoyance at all the people. Some of them he remembered from his last trips but other were new. When the first person started screaming people were backing away not coming close to his lumbering figure. Soon he was standing inform of the meat shop his head just barely appearing over he counter. With one push off the ground he was on the shops desk and on the other side grabbing some meat while the people still screamed around him. |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Horace Umbra / M / 23 / Fisherman / Polar Bear / Mentions: Michael, Nala, Dreyvon, Ren Horace’s hands filtered his chin smoothly. “Yes, I do,” Horace smiled warmly, walking closer to Nala to see what she saw. “Yes, preferably short, too,” Horace placed both of his hands on the fencing as Nala whistled out. He saw a large, bulky mare trot over to Nala, immediately, Horace fell in love. He may just even name the mare once he bought it. “Yes, she’s perfect,” Horace ran a hand along her muscly neck. He knew his father was against the idea of getting a horse, but he didn’t want his dad to get injured further. “How much for her?” Horace said, locking eyes with Nala. Ren popped into the conversation, his smooth and cool tone coming from the heart. “Including the total of reins and a wagon, along with this beautiful mare, my subject would enjoy it if you appealed to him the price of this magnificent beast!” You could see a vein pulsing from Horace’s head as Ren already tried to smooth talk Nala before she even set a price range. “Pardon my friend,” Horace placed a hand on his friend’s chest and pushed him away a bit. Ren then turned towards Michael, shaking his head. “Friend, I can fly about 95 miles per hour, Even if that hunter wanted to track me down, there’s no way he could!” Ren let out another large smile, he seemed to be doing well around others. Horace was fascinated by the mare. He wanted her. He treasured the intelligent look she gave when she locked eyes with him. He was jolted with a shock when he heard a stallion tumbling towards the fence, Nala, matching up to her swiftness, stopping the stallion. She truly was a horse whisperer. Laark Umbra / F / 19 / Hunter / Mentions: Sadina This was probably the most the two had held a conversation for that was actually something meaningful. “Get together and chat? I doubt it. You’d probably get hit on by Peerance within a second, I’d prefer to stray from the others,” Laark kept her voice smooth as she carried on. “But you’re right, I admit. We do need to create a better bond if we actually want to communicate,” Laark flopped her hoody back over her head. “Don’t be getting all lovey-dovey with me now,” Laark filtered her long hair with her slim fingers, smoothing it out. “That much is obvious,” Laark huffed before fixing up her curvy features by patting off the dust. I didn’t do the best I could… Lark admitted to herself, her odd colored orbs drifting at the ripples of the creek. She didn’t try her best, she didn’t actually try to kill them. She pulled the ends of her cloak, looking at how much it was torn. “I should head to the village to mend this, they won’t like helping me, but they can’t refuse when it comes to currency,” Laark took out her pouch, weighing as to how much she had left. “I’ll see you around, Sadina,” Laark walked past the creek, heading towards the village. She wanted to mend her cloak before it got even further damaged. |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Vera Smith, female, 20, Hidden shifter, Gray wolf, mentions: ?? (seriously, can someone tell me what the mentions are?) The wolf had gotten curious and ventured closer to the village when she heard screaming. She lifted her black/silver muzzle to the air and sniffed, her nose picking up the scent of a wolf shifter. Well, that's interesting, but she wasn't looking for a fight or anything. Flicking her black torn right ear, she turned and walked away. She watched her surroundings just in case something was lurking around. She was tired because she had spent a while trying to hunt down something, apparently she was in the wrong area, because she didn't find anything, it was weird. |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Shay Cormac Connolly - Male - 29 - Baker - Mentions: Salem Grace The fact that this girl was still here was beginning to irk him. Shay really just wanted to be left alone, but it seemed she had no intention of leaving any time soon. What was it with her and wanting to speak with him? Shay's tone and body language should have immediately told her that he had absolutely no interest in interacting with her beyond his extremely blunt explanation on what he was doing out here. As his gaze returned back to her, only shortly after the bird's incessant screeching finally died, he noted her expression had changed to one of curiosity, rather than the stern one she'd had only a short while before. "Well, what's your name? I haven't seen you around before... Are you from around here?" And once again, Shay was left wondering why exactly she wanted to talk to him. He had absolutely not intention of telling her his name. Now, he could understand why she would ask if he was from around the area; Shay did prefer to make himself scarce rather than try to interact with any of the other townsfolk. Even when he did go outside, it often meant nobody happened to see him, because he chose to go out usually when nobody was around to bother him. Apparently he hadn't chosen a good time on this occasion.Shay could very easily just turn and walk off. But no, that would likely make her follow him, thus creating even more of an annoyance in his day. Couldn't she see he just wanted to be left alone? ".....Yes, I am from here." That was all she needed. His name was not something he was obligated to give out if he didn't want to, and if she had a problem with that... Well, it wasn't his problem, no matter what she or anyone else might think. |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Sadina Rose - Female - 19 - Hunter - Mentions: Laark Sadina let out a small chuckle. "True... But yeah, we do need to create a bond." She had to admit, it felt weird for her to be talking to someone for so long. And the conversation was actually going well. She let out another chuckle. "Trust me, I won't. I'm not that kind of person." She would've been seen smiling just then if the fabric wasn't covering her mouth. That was actually part of the reason why it was there. She didn't like to be seen with a smile, seeing it as a sign of weakness. It simply made her feel less strong and more vulnerable. She looked down at her own cloak, the patches covering it very subtle. But they were there. She looked back up at Laark, nodding her head slightly. "See ya." She said with a small wave. She then walked in the opposite direction of the other hunter, examining the terrain a little before leaning against a tree, thinking about the whole conversation. Sadina had never talked that long with someone since the death of her older brother. He was only a year older than her, but she looked up to him. And even though he died so long ago, it still felt like yesterday. For dramatic affect, the narrator will not give any details until later. (Blackghost, Mentions are any characters you mention in your own post.) |
|
|
Summer 
Night Weather: 
Earthquake Moon: 
