#snow4

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The neighbors had a party at the end of the week. Kunaris made me question him by being simultaneously attracted to Secretive and thinking about Zip, but other than that, this week closed. The people are mostly hard at work trying to prepare for winter, and event rolls will only commence in Round 5, which is due to start as soon as every family is properly settled in.

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I never noticed how utterly terrifying this statue’s face is.

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At first, the meeting with the Chieftess went quite well. In fact, he thought that she was perfectly lovely, with her almost white hair and her golden eyes. The elf playing a few simple, sad tunes for them set a strangely enchanted mood and he was quite glad, at first, that he’d missed the Chief. Things went downhill fast, however, and he left without having been able to suggest anything much.

The Chief’s horse returned without him.

[Both women were fine, but this day was pure chaos :D]

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Snow: “In a situation like this, the best thing you can do is put up a smile and just carry on with it. I mean, what else are you going to do? We can’t fight what the gods have chosen to do to us.”

Kunaris: “Isn’t that because you people are a bunch of southern wimps?”

Snow: “Hey, come now, we’re strangers in the North, sure, but ...”

Kunaris: “Oh no, the weather is a bit cold! However are we going to protect ourselves against it? Seriously.”

Snow: “... well, I’ll have you know that my father was from around here! He used to be our chief, even. Before he ... uh ... got cursed. And exiled.”

Kunaris: “Don’t worry about it, little southerner. You have me now. I’m gonna make this tribe of wimps greater than it ever was before.”

Since his king finally became fed-up with Kunaris’ high ambitions and constant partying, he was banished and met the ragged wanderers from the South not long after. He very quickly decided to throw his lot in with them, since he saw a lot of opportunities in living with them. Apart from the strength in numbers, there was something to be gained here that he couldn’t find in any other king’s service. With little knowledge of the world outside their island, dwindling warriors, and unclear command structure, they surely had need of a proper man who’d show them the proper way of living. They’d naturally elevate that proper man into a suitably high position, and eventually look to him entirely for leadership. Their wimps would need to become fighting men. Their pretty little houses would have to be better fortified and more practical. And they needed to learn how to brew something you could actually drink, instead of cooking their water and sipping fruit juice like a bunch of little girls.

[Introducing @windermeresimblr​s amazing bronze-age Gaul Kunaris, the King’s Hound! He was catapulted a few centuries back to fit in with the earlier Bronze Age (and would thus, I believe, be from a Bell Beaker culture instead of a proper Gaul), but I love him! I’m afraid he wouldn’t be too impressed by a bunch of Southerners who can’t properly deal with the weather and don’t really have a brewing culture yet, but I’m excited to see how he’ll integrate. Thank you very much for sending him over, I hope I can do him justice :D]

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Unfortunately, Shade’s child didn’t live. She coped by beating up the practice dummy. A lot.

Squirrels and Chipmunks lived all over the neighbor’s lawn, but Scery hunted cockroaches instead. Which she then failed to get. Someone should teach her how to cat. Not Snow. Snow thinks being a cat involves being cuddled as much as possible, eat, sleep and nothing else.

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More adventures of Kunaris, since Snow and Shade were at home, hogging the crafting station and practice dummy.

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“OUT OF THE WAY, I CAN’T CONTROL THIS THING!!!”

Kunaris jumped away at the last minute. For a second he considered yelling after the Chief that he wanted to discuss setting up a proper militia, but the man really didn’t look as if he had a mind for that right in this moment. Instead of walking all the way back to Snow and Shade, who were, while a lovely couple, entirely too preoccupied with each other to be of any use, he decided to press on. Maybe the Chieftess would have time for him and relay his suggestion to the Chief.

[kinzthesim]