#destarin

[maevemedeina]

Starter @ofcaptaindanner

Location: The Docks

Time: Early evening, dusk

The sun hung low in the evening as day turned to dusk, and Maeve reluctantly dragged herself from the forest in which she lived and hunted and began padding towards the docks. As the blonde wolf contentedly trotted through the residential areas of Destarin, no one battered an eyelid. Werewolves the size of Maeve’s looming 6ft were not a shocking sight in the crown of converging kingdoms. Neither were fairies, or mermaids, or even gorgons. In fact, as supernatural or mythic goes, Maeve’s Lycan genealogy was not what made her stand out amongst fellow inhabitants. Instead, at least aesthetically, it was the shade of her blonde fur.

Long since considered a rarity in nature, Maeve’s ancestors had once thrived as a strong and proud pack of towering, cream-coloured wolves. Now, she and her mother were two of a handful remaining. Maeve descended from a pack that had almost been wiped out, and as such, she now belonged to the Volkov Pack, a mixed pack of transient wolves who travelled between kingdoms, attaining, and selling wears, boarders and laws be damned.

Maeve’s paws were almost hand sized, and the hardened texture of her pads, not to mention the length of her claws, gave the wolf an unreal grip on the surface beneath her. It is this uncanny agility that enabled the huge blonde wolf to turn her peaceful pace into a thunderous run that incorporated leaps and bounds over fences, park benches, even bollards in the street. Maeve was due to see her family that evening, but an impulsive desire to avoid her father’s ceaseless concerns about her new living situation, propelled Maeve towards the other end of the docks, where Shadden’s ship was harboured.

As a cool mist began to settle atop the ship’s impressive frame, resulting in droplets of cool perspiration along the rails, Maeve skidded to an abrupt halt at the end of the docks. Another might have taken a second to calculate the distance between the docks and the railing of Shadden’s ship, but Maeve was familiar with the set up, and she made the impressive leap to the deck of the ship. All 200 lbs of damp fur and sinewy muscle hit the deck, sharp, thick claws leaving deep scratch marks that narrowed as she tried to alleviate her weight from the pressure. Maeve dropped her head in disappointment. At herself for not landing better, but also the daunting realisation that she had just scratched Shadden’s baby up bad....

[maevemedeina]

The better to see you with my dear...

Closed starter @taurusvolkov When: Midday Where: The Kyngeshed

There was a definite sense of lethargy that would be endured in the Kyngeshed. You could see it when you walked in and got an eyeroll from the bar tender. You could feel it when patrons slouched down in their chairs, and you could most definitely smell it. The humid heat had most of the patrons who were capable of it, sweating, both inside and outside of the establishment. It seemed as though everybody responded by wiping their brows and deciding to move as little as possible to avoid further heat production. A lazy solution for a motley crew.

One of those sweating patrons, remaining as stationary as still as possible was Maeve. The golden haired armourer could be found at a picnic table, lying on her back. She had one leg tucked underneath her on the bench, the other dangling lazily off the edge of the table. Stuck to her legs were leather pants, the buttons undone at her hips, and her equally hot, leather boots were discarded on the grassy floor. The worn, linen cloth shirt Maeve typically wore beneath a vest hung loose, and might have billowed in the breeze had there been one. The werewolf's exposed skin glistened with sweat and the blonde, tangled waves draped down one side of the bench, pooling on the grass below, so Maeve could enjoy a little fresh air around her hot neck.

Whether the unseasonably hot whether was natural or the result of some mythical or supernatural's mood swings, was something that had occurred to Maeve as she enjoyed her afternoon amongst other like minded thugs who had packed in work for the day and retired to the pub to drink cheap.

Littering the grassy outback were mismatching chairs, stools, even one hammock. A blend of supernaturals, lazed and lounged in the heat. A haze of smoke cloaked some of the illegal deals that were arbitrarily being conducted between sips and smokes, smirks and half hearted threats. Some, if not all were indulging in something.

Maeve herself had indulged in a little magical enhancement to her vision. It was temporary and mostly safe, traded to her by a nearby elf who now wore Maeve's leather vest in return.

The plan was to meet Taurus after she had finished the multitude of daily tasks it took to maintain the makeshift pavilion she lived in. The heat had pushed her from her work and she found herself at the Kyngeshed several hours earlier than planned. It was for this reason that she decided to treat herself to the eyesight enhancing red soot like substance she now had smeared across her eyes.

A contended smile settled comfortably on Maeve's lips as she admired the almost cloudless sky above her. Had it not been for the glinting axe of her own making, stationed between her legs, Maeve might have resembled something akin to a woman on holiday.

The wolf inhaled deeply, enjoying the mixture of scents around her when Taurus's very familiar, musky scent began to tickle her senses. Guided by the scent, Maeve reluctantly lifted herself up by her elbow and peered around to look for the pack leader, she hadn't expected so soon.