Indutiae | Michael + Shiloh
The rich chocolate wood of the rumored pirate ship almost disappeared in the darkness of night. Lit only by the crescent moon, Shiloh pressed his body closer to the wall, as the three men paused to talk in hushed tones. Their faces are covered by thick wool cloaks but Shiloh can smell a stale death around them.
"You shouldn't have taken the job," the taller man hissed loudly. Shiloh furrowed his brow, what were they scared of?
The ship creaked against the aged dock, and he took five quick footsteps to muffle his sound as he followed the unfamiliar group of men. He glared up a moment as their midnight black sails rippled in the harsh evening winds, a deafening whipping sound pierced the quiet pier in sharp flaps distractedly before he noticed them point at an object rested at their feet. This ship had never docked in the Ports before, it reeked of bad news the moment Shi saw it, all he knew was that they were hiding something.
A deeper voice reached his ears, "throw it overboard! No way are we delivering it to...him.. NOW!" Shiloh waited patiently, tucked against the wall before the voices faded away, and a splash echoed through the dark. His eyes flashed emerald green as his wolf form took in the area...it was all clear, so he dove into the water.
Soaked through, droplets of water trailed into his eyes and pooled on the floor as he took careful steps towards the covert old chest now rested in front of his bed. A least three feet long, two feet wide, made with aged black wood, like the night sky was trapped into each grain. His hands caressed the surface carefully, fingers ran along each bump of metal, before a deep groove caught against his finger. He focused his eyes on the words scratched into the wood, anxiety building with each passing second as he visualize the urgency it must have took to carve the three words into splinters.
Take to Michael
He may have been new to Athoria but there was only one Michael he knew of. It was whispered by thieves late into the night during rounds of gambling of stolen goods, that he had returned from England with his protege. Michael...vampire.
Indecision sunk heavy into his mind. He wanted no trouble but it was the right thing to do, his lip worried into his mouth, teeth scrapped the rough skin as he starred at the chest. What ever this was it needed to get to the vampire. The last thing Shiloh wanted was Michael to catch wind of it being here, and invading his home. No. He grabbed his near by sack and packed quickly. He will risk this journey to protect his home, he will deliver this to the vampire himself.
