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  1. Jack tilted his head looking at the overgrown fox, "So what we up too today, cutie?" He took a swig of his last bottle of brandy. "Need to find some humans, no?" his voice was growing a slur as he looked at the bottle. He needed more. But he was also hungry. "Food firrrst dont youh thrink?" he stumbled to his feet and took two steps against the treeline, then fell on his ass in the middle of the small opening they had rested in. She got onto her feet walking over and jumped on his chest, sending the image of him sleeping, followed by her hunting. That odd rumbling sound came out of his throat again, and she jumped back from the smell of the shiny brown but nasty smelling stuff as he opened it and took another sip, then she turned and was off. He hicked and sipped the bottle. The fox would bring food. It was cold but he didn't feel like restarting the fire. Besides, the brandy would warm him. He didn't know where the images came from, but he had started understanding them somewhat, the voices in his head he called it. As of late it had been of a place where his kind and wolves walked side by side. He would look into the fox's eyes and daydream like that. Maybe she understood some of it, he wasn't sure. At any rate, it was amusing and he found himself giggling in between the hiccups.
  2. Continued from Pick Up thread:- Finding the Wolves (Outside of Cairhien) Winifred laughed softly, watching as the young man and the wolf ran around in circles. Emotions were literally pouring from the Wanderer. Surprise, tension, excitement, happiness; they all jostled for supremacy and so strongly that Winifred slammed her own "shields" up to save herself from the onslaught. They continued their progress upwards for some time under the thick canopy of the forest. Eventually, Winifred called to Jace, suggesting he moderate his pace somewhat before he went headlong over one of the many gnarled roots littering the ground, even on the more cleared track they were following. "I can't think that Aislyn would be too happy if we made it all the way here for you to break a leg right on her doorstep. And here we are..." she added, emerging from the tree line into a large cleared area and giving Jace a minute to absorb his surroundings. Midnight dropped to his haunches at her heels and River came to stand at Jace's side. Winifred wasn't sure who was more delighted with their new home, the wolf or the latest two legs to grace the Stedding. When Jace returned his attention to the Tracker, she moved on with a inclination of the head indicating their new direction and began pointing out local landmarks. Not so many as to overwhelm, but enough to give some sense of bearing. "That's the Forge over there and the stables there. That large building further off is our inn, the Hole in the Wall. You can be assured of a decent meal, good ale and a warm welcome there any time." Winifred exchanged waves and nods with various residents who shouted greetings but none of the 'kin came closer or attempted to engage her in discussion. There was an unspoken agreement, mostly adhered to, that a Wanderer would not be approached until they'd been checked by a Sage. It was simply safer that way...for all of them. Particularly if they wanted to avoid one of Fred's rare tongue lashings. "This is the Infirmary, Jace," she said walking towards a long, spacious looking building. Jogging lightly up the steps and through the open door, she led him along a broad main hallway until they reached a small grouping of chairs along the wall. "Have a seat here for a moment. This is where I leave you in Aislyn's capable hands. I'll just go let her know we've arrived." A momentary panic issued from Jace but Winifred patted his shoulder reassuringly. "I'll see you again once you're settled in no doubt. Welcome home." And with that, the Tracker disappeared round a corner in the direction of Aislyn's office, leaving Jace to his own thoughts. OOC: Do a quick post covering your arrival and finish up with your thoughts/feelings as you sit waiting. In the next part I'll be posting as our NSW Sage, Aislyn.
  3. Felvere of the House Staedryn was hungry. He had never felt hunger such as this in his life. He had gone a whole day without food, nearing two now. His coat was muddy and torn, his clothes filthy and his boots were showing signs of wear. He'd have to replace them the moment he found a merchant or a tailor or cobbler capable enough to serve someone of his standing. Did he even have a standing anymore? Felevere's jaw tightened, his teeth grinding together, and he straightened his back. Of course he did. He was born noble, he would stay noble forever. It was in his blood. But...hadn't he defamed his brother? Practically stripped away his nobility? Well, Dravin was different. If he was truly noble, truly deserving of the status bestowed on him, Felvere never would have been able cast him down. If he had been...he was dead now. Felvere had killed him. A cackle rose within him and Felvere's jaw tightened further. He stamped out the cackle before it could form. He was far too dignified to cackle at the death of a family member, even one he had caused, and he had caused two of them. That was two things not to laugh at. Felvere needn't worry about ill-placed humour however. Felvere didn't laugh. Ever. The occasional smirk perhaps, but outright laughter? He sniffed, holding his handkerchief up t his nose as though guarding himself from a bad smell. That was far too common for someone of his status. What wasn't common for someone of his status-former status, a part of his mind reminded him-was to be this hungry. Once his mind had recovered, he had found no more meat arriving at his campsite at dawn, and now was at a crucial crossroad. He needed to eat. That much was obvious. That meant he had to acquire food. He could go and buy some, but for that he needed a place to buy it from, and that was nigh on impossible, especially considering his rather unbecoming lack of finances. He could steal food, but that was beneath him. Or he could beg. Felvere didn't even dignify that option with further consideration. A member of House Staedryn, begging from farmboys? He sniffed at his handkerchief again and a corner of his lip curled up distastefully. Well...what about the wolves? They had gotten him into this mess, invading his mind, his dreams. They had fed him once, broken him and helped him to heal. Perhaps they could help him again. It was mad, but honestly...Felvere glanced down at his scuffed boots. Could he get any lower? Tentatively, Felvere reached out in his mind and looked for wolves.
  4. As Jace entered the woods he began to slow down. He had been running since he left the tavern in Cairhein and it was nightfall as he entered the woods. Running might get him to the wolves faster, but thought it would be better if he went to them in a calm manner. I must be going insane. I'm actively seeking wolves. Jace thought. Regardless of his thoughts, Jace was still convinced that the answers that he was seeking would be found with the wolves. He heard a wolf howl to the moon coming from the south and continued to move in that direction. His enhanced senses helped him see in the dark and he was able to make it though the woods without tripping over roots. He could hear small night animals scurrying throughout the woods. After traveling for about an hour, a smell wafted into Jace's nostrils. Someone was coming and whoever it was, they were close and coming from behind. Jace fingered his hunting knife and turned to face whoever it was.
  5. Doha yawned as she lazily weaved a crown of wild flowers. She had traveled miles away from Fal Dara into the leafy forest for this? "Perhaps I truly am mad." she muttered as she reminisced of a time before, when she had met a wolf in this very forest. The wolf had promised her guidance. "Whatever guidance could be offered for a mad woman? I may as well fancy about marrying princes and wearing dresses with bonnets, and lace!" she exclaimed. Doha hated lace. She was feminine in certain ways, such as weaving flowers and dancing, but her other personal traits were those of the armed men in Shienar. "She even called me 'Dancer' or something. Of course I would hallucinate of being called 'Dancer'! Why not prancer, or smasher!" she threw down the crown, and flinched as some of the flowers tore. "I'm sorry, little ones." she hated hurting beautiful things as much as she hated wearing lace. She took the crown and adjusted some of the the flowers, and put the arrangement on her head. However could she go home now that she had said her goodbye's to her family and friends? She frowned. "I could actually travel I suppose, with the little coin I have.." And that's when the heard it, a twig cracking as a foot stepped upon it. Doha sprawled, reaching for her bow and arrows. She should have kept them closer! "Peace!" she exclaimed as the breath was knocked out of her. There was a shadow above her. So this was it, doomed to die at the hands of a stranger. She looked up and gasped. -----
  6. Windrunner ran threw the forest right on the heels of his next kill. He could sense his packmate close to him ready to make the kill, Hunter silently running keeping pace with the deer. The deer stumbled from exhaustion and Windrunner saw his opening. He sprang jaws closing around the neck for the kill... Gabe woke with a start. Shivering body covered in sweat. Memories flooded back unbidend. His mothers terrified face when she saw his eyes...eyes that should have been brown. Eyes that were golden, eyes that Gabe did not want. Gabe was an outcast, one look at his eyes and humans would throw him out. He had nowhere to go. He had nothing in way of posessions aside what he was wearing. His life was over, everything and everyone he knew... gone. The realization of this hit Gabe with such force he just collapsed crying and yelling. It took Gabe a few minutes to realize he wasnt quite alone anymore. He looked up and there was a wolf. Dark grey fur with a few white splotches here and there. Instead of feeling scared and running away for some reason Gabe felt comfortable...as if he knew this wolf. Images flooded his mind. A wolf Grey with white splotches and the images formed a name of sorts, Hunter, then Gabe saw himself.. then a wolf running in the wind and the name Windrunner came into his head. With a start gabe realized this wolf was "talking" to him. He tried asking the wolf questions, how,why,when,what but all the wolf did was stare. After awhile Hunter ,as Gabe thought of him now, gotup to leave, and in his head images came and Gabe knew Hunter wanted him to follow. Gabe followed Hunter for 3 days eating what food he could find, berries and fruits. Everyday Gabe asked Hunter where they were going and always the same reply.. follow.. No more images came to Gabe besides that. it was a silent three days unit one night Hunter stopped and images burst into his head. Wait brother. someone comes. Meet them here. and with that Hunter laid down to sleep. Gabe confused could not sleep but none the less laid down to wait for this someone whoever it was...
  7. Thelsier was hungry, which worried him. He was afraid of the things that happened when he got desperate. It had been several weeks since he had been ran out of the last town, yet he still felt like he was being followed. He always felt the presence of people that he could not see. Sometimes he would see things, images that were not from the depths of his own mind. He tried to ignore them, but sometimes found himself trying to talk back to the nothing, which made others and himself believe that he was mad. He did not altogether mind the looks that people gave him, the whispers as he passed, or the open stares. He had never felt comfortable in the cities, and didn’t think he had much in common with other men. What bothered him, is when he offered money to buy food from the inn, they denied him service, and only allowed him to stay if they didn’t have the numbers to throw him out of the town. He found himself having to steal what he needed, not having much skill in hunting, even though he felt as if he could smell animals in the woods. It had started almost a year ago, when he had tried to make his way back to Illian, beaten and bloodied. He was delirious, thinking he had seen a wolf try and lead him somewhere. He tried to tell his dad what had happened, but when he was seen talking to people that he thought were there, he was turned out of his father’s house. Spending a few days at an inn located in the south of Illian, starting to attract stares whenever he went to the common room, it wasn’t long before he was asked to leave. Having this happen to him over the next weeks at a handful of Inns sometimes being asked, sometimes forced, to leave, he decided to leave the city behind him. The months since had been spent going from town to town, staying off the roads, buying food where he was allowed, stealing it where he wasn’t. The feeling that he was surrounded by men he couldn’t see increased as he got farther from Illian. He enjoyed the time he spent in between towns, away from the stares of people. He had tried hunting several times, but when he found himself wanting to sink his teeth into the throat of the deer he was tracking, he felt more comfortable with simply stealing food from the towns. The stray images in his mind, the unknown presences that he felt, and the sometimes animalistic urges he felt, scared him. He did not know why these things were happening to him. Was it some kind of sickness, or was his mental state slowly deteriorating. Sometimes he felt as if there were two parts to him, one that he had known since his birth, and another animalistic and growing in strength. Sometimes he felt that this other part of him would gain control and he would no longer be Thelsier. Worry that this might be the case kept him up at night, causing him to be greatly fatigued. As his tiredness increased so did his worry and paranoia. He had grown bitter and distrusting. Fearing that he had little time, called for drastic action, he had feared the Aes Sedai from Tar Valon, but he no longer had a choice, they might be the ones that can cure him of this affliction. Still several days away from Tar Valon Thelsier lie curled up by a dying fire, the dying light not hindering his vision, but only draining it of color. He had not eaten in almost a week, and sleep had not graced him in longer than he could remember. He felt the presence of beings in the forest around him, but ignored the thought. He was trying to ignore the pains of his hunger when a light breeze coming from the west brought the scent of rabbit into his small camp. Standing he sniffed the air, discerning the direction his prey was from the camp, licking his chops he began to stalk off in the direction the smell, his paws making little noise on the soft grass.
  8. Myra Gailene froze as soon as she entered The Foxtail Inn where she had began her journey a couple of years ago. Something wasn't right. While the small inn looked the same, there was an overwhelming abundance of new scents that her nose had never processed before. New dishes, maybe? Master Milstead might be thinking of an exapansion if he's trying out new recipes in the kitchens she thought at she started to slowly walk into the inn. The smell started to thicken, threatening to suffocate her if she didn't step out for a breath of fresh air. What in the name of the Light was he cooking? There was a spicy aroma that came from a table to her left, a sweet smell from a table of giggling maids that looked to be on their break, and a sour smell from a table filled with half eaten food by a couple of angry old merchants. Walking up to the bar and sitting on one of the stools, Myra intended to find Master Milstead to ask what was new on the menu and if her friend Jessie was working today. However, he seemed preoccupied elsewhere and couldn't be found. It gave her some time to try to analyze the new smells. The more she tried to concentrate on one of them, the more it seemed like it came from the people than the food. Myra shook her head to rid herself of the thought. That's just absurd! Why would people smell... sour? Then she giggled. Maybe they just need a shower. The spicy aroma came from a woman trying to flirt with this man and she passed it off as perfume. No wonder the poor guy looks uncomfortable. I can smell that perfume all the way over here! Then again that person in the hat that had stared at her smelled of the forest and freedom. Freedom? How do I know what freedom smells like? A bolt of movement besides her made her give a little start. The drunken man in the stool next to her had just leaned away from her, nearly falling out of his stool, and had wide eyes in shock. No wonder those children ran away when I smiled at them. I must have more dirt on me than I thought. Then again when she had looked at her clothing, she hardly saw any dust at all. For a moment there, she had had to blink her eyes a few times as she thought she had seen each individual thread in her multitude of brightly colored skirts and scarves. She checked herself over again, and that's when she had to lean back because the man was peering intently at her face. Maybe he's just not used to seeing Tuatha'an in town. Or at all. It's a bit unnerving, though. The man then stood up and left, leaving a tip on the bar. "I musht be drunker than I thoughts," he hiccuped and mumbled almost inaudibly. Myra turned her head to look back after him. He was just turning out of sight right outside the door. "What did he mean by that, I wonder?" she said in a low tone so the person on the other side of her wouldn't hear. That's when she noticed that glint of gold coming from that person by the window again that wore a cloak with the collar turned up and a hat pulled down low. It wasn't her imagination this time. That had come from under the brim of that hat. The cloaked man was now looking at her again, as if weighing her up, and it made Myra a tad bit uncomfortable. She turned her head back, hoping that by ignoring him, he would turn away. After a couple of minutes, she ordered a glass of water from a new employee since the last time she had been here and laid a few coppers on the table to pay for it. The hairs on the back of her neck felt like they were standing up. That man was still staring at her. Turning her head to look back at him, the man casually turned his head to look out the window - and a small lock of red hair fell free from the hat. He's a... she? Curiosity took over her and she studied the woman while she wasn't looking. She wore dark green trousers that were nearly black tucked into turned-down leather boots. Under her black cloak she wore a matching dark green vest over a white linen shirt that tied up with a bit of leather string. The smoothness of her skin, the color of her hair, and her build had Myra confused. Why would she want to hide herself? If she had a body like that, she'd flaunt it at every chance she had. The woman turned her head once more and Myra quickly buried her face in her glass of water. A slight blush crept up on her face. I hope she didn't think I was just oggling her... Wait, then why does she keep staring at me? Oh Light!
  9. It had been a good day for Toram Rashevar. An investment he had made had finally started paying off, and during the celebration party that evening in the Dancing Flagon he had found the dice were bringing him luck as well. His pouch was jungling with a combination of earnings and winnings, and he had even been fortunate enough to find a merchant willing to swap his silver marks for good Andoran gold, allowing him to keep his purse thin enough to be safely tucked out of view. It had been a good day as the dice rolled well for him once again, earning him enough money to pay for the round of drinks he had just ordered, leaning back in his chair, exhausted from the excitement of the day's events. He was rich now, could buy that house he had his eyes set on after selling his own. Marisa would like having more space, and he felt the kids would as well, they seemed to grow taller every day now. He felt the wine getting to more places in his body than just his head and stood up to leave for a minute. Some fresh air would do him good too. It had been a good day, but it is the will of the Wheel that all things must one day come to an end. As Toram relieved himself in a more secluded alley next to the Inn, he never saw nor expected the figure standing on the rooftops behind him, believing himself safe within Fal Sion's walls like so many others. He never heard nor expected the whistle of cloth through air as the figure jumped down from the roof. And he never felt nor expected the dagger that was driven far into his neck from the impact of the stranger's landing almost on top of him. Those outside would hear a thud from the alley, as if someone had just tripped over some loose boards, or a box of junk. Most would think nothing of it, though there would be some that for an instant would believe a person was being robbed before sinking back into the false sense of security Fal Sion's walls gave them. And there were those with heightened senses, whose ears would recognise the snapping of a neck hidden by the stumble. Those few would see a woman in a poorly fitting suit of leather armor holding the limp body of a man close to her. Those with sharp eyesight would also notice the woman wrenching and slicing the man's neck as if to open the wound further, despite it being clear from the wound that the man was already dead. And, to their horror, those watching the gruesome spectacle would see the woman put her mouth over said wound after pulling her dagger out, blade glistering darkly with blood in the torchlight during the brief second it was visible until deft hands hid it in its concealed sheath at her side again. Daciana Mordecai The hunt begins!
  10. Valynt woke with a start the morning after leaving Chachin. He was in a thicket and looking around in growing alarm until he saw the wolves. Reaching for his knife he paused as images flashed through his mind. They were of the day before as he rushed blindly away from the hunters and guards of Chachin. Then everything came back to him and he sat there rocking back and forth while he tried not to cry. He had lost everything, the last of his family, the girl of his dreams and a home! Then he vaguely remembered that the wolves had helped him escape. They had watched over him as he ran and showed him this place so he could hide. He was somewhere on the Eastern edge of the Black Hills near the Northernmost river head. Gathering himself and fighting an internal war against being hateful to those who had turned on him, he turned his attention towards the wolves and when one that looked stronger then the rest approached he bowed his head. Images flashed in his mind as he spoke but he didn't know what it meant, only that they came from him. He spoke aloud but softly to the wolf, " Thank you very much for helping me! I am forever in your debt, and I don't know if you can understand me but you have only to call and I will come to your aid." That said he crawled out of the thicket. Making his way to the river he drank and refilled a wineskin with water. Then he turned South and staying in the Black Hills, started walking. He had no idea where to go or what to do. He only knew his eyes were yellow and that most would never accept him in a city again. Not that he had ever really been a city boy anyway, but alone in the land was not what he wanted in life either. So he walked with no clear goal in mind and anger lurking deep in his heart. Valynt "Silverstreak" Nororama, Wolfkin Pup
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