Closed [Farson Home] Refuge

[Hadrian]

24th Winter, 512 A.V. The children were playing in the snow, and Hadrian was watching them. He was tall, thin as a sword, and had a severe look about him. His skin was pale as the snow, his eyes too bright a blue, and his dark hair streaked with a dark blue that only really showed when the sun came out from behind the clouds to set the winter blanket to sparkling. He had been caught in Avanthal, the Everwinter City, during the djed storms, and the magic had pulled out some hidden strain of Vantha blood in him, making him just a little bit more of a freak, but he didn't mind. The children didn't either. Apparently they sensed the soft parts that were hidden behind the severe slant of his dark brows, his intense gaze. A snowball hit him square in the face, startling him out of his reverie. The children burst into gales of laughter, their gaiety a proof of the quality of his work. While the pox struck people down outside the walls of the Farson Home, the children remained healthy. Well, and the work of the other caretakers. He had, after all, only recently returned from the quest to Sahova on behalf of the Regents of the University. Everyone pointed at Grigor, who was shaking with silent laughter. "Why, you ungrateful little...!" and Hadrian pelted toward them, although before he was halfway to them -- and they scattered anyway, laughing little villains -- he was laughing too. All this was visible from the iron gate that led into the courtyard. Half the orphanage was in visible disrepair, but the East Wing was warm, and the children had full bellies and the attention of a Konti healer. It was an island of refuge among the madness.

[Adler]

Adler watched the children from the fence, a tall, wrought iron structure that separated the Orphanage from the rest of the city. Yawning he shifted his paws, lifting them and shaking the snow out from between his toes. Settling down he tucked his paws under his chin as he watched the children enjoying themselves in the snow. He didn't particularly like this city so far, at all. Nearly everyone was ill and the hunting was bad, the only good hunting to be had was outside of the city and covered in snow. The place had no food, either, even the permanent residents were starving. The place stank of old fish and salt and death. Adler shifted uncomfortably as his stomach growled. A child ran past the gate and he shied back slightly, not wanting to alert the pup to his presence. Perhaps they will take pity and feed me... He thought eyeing the happy, well fed children. I'd have to act like a dog, be all cute and lovable. It's either that or eat someone Moving forward on his belly Adler wedged his snout between the bars in the gate. He attempted to give a bark, which his wolf vocal chords mangled, turning it into a grumbling yip. Mentally rolling his eyes he began to wag his tail, even going so far as perking his ears forward. This had better work... he grumbled to himself as one of the children turned at his "bark" Needless to say he was desperate.

[Hadrian]

It was young Grigor who was closest to the gate in his flight when the wolfhound made his strange sound for attention. He ignored the fact that he had pelted the supreme authority figure in his little life with a snowball and was fleeing for his life or, at least, to prevent any sort of freezing retaliation. Instead he sidled up to the wrought iron fence and shoved his entire arm between the bars to properly pet the strange animal. Children were precocious and Grigor managed this before Hadrian could catch up with him, his mind already stretching out on the auristic spectrum to gauge the wolf -- not, in fact, a wolfhound -- for possible danger. Even as he ran up, he was able to identify the doubled aura he sensed around a Kelvic, almost like an animal aura superimposed over a human aura. He didn't actually see auras anymore unless he was particularly tired, but he sensed as much. That didn't particularly worry him, but it was with a flood of relief that he could finally tell that the Kelvic was hungry, but not ill. He must have wandered into town just recently and hopefully not come into contact with any plague victims. "Grigor," he said calmly when he stopped several feet short of his little charge. "Are you going to offer the nice Kelvic something to eat?" Hadrian was a stickler for etiquette thanks to his dear departed mother. To the Kelvic, he said, "Welcome to the Farson Home. We don't have much food, but we have some to share if the hunting has grown lean. I'll ask that you be on your best behavior around the children, though. They are under my protection, and I will protect them by any means necessary." He didn't know if the Kelvic would spend valuable energy changing his shape or not, but Hadrian was already fishing the key out from under his coat and shirt, pulling it over his head to put it in the lock and let the Kelvic in. If he came in bad faith, which didn't seem likely given the particular feel of his aura, then Hadrian would deal with it.

[Adler]

Letting his tail drop back into the snow Adler regarded the child with slight surprise. Why is this pup so brave? Or maybe dumb it's just dumb. He sniffed Grigors arm as the child reached around to scratch him behind the ears. Despite himself Adler tilted his head and pressed against the pup's palm, suppressing a sigh. I could bite it's arm right off and no-one could stop me! He thought, half in disbelief, as he eyed the fence and its heavy lock before turning his attention back to the child. Someone needs to teach the runt some common sense. Perhaps they're too protected here, if that's even possible. At the sound of approaching foots steps Adler looked up, ears focusing towards the approaching man, not a child. A threat? Adler wondered, nose working furiously, looking for a clue to the man motives. Eyeing the man he took in his appearance. Tall, slim. No weapons. Doesn't even smell like he carries a weapon, though the smell can be covered. But even that is noticeable. He smells... Normal. His instincts, on the other hand, disagreed. The mans presence sent a prickling sensation up the wolfs spine. He had felt the same odd foreboding with few other people and wasn't quite sure what it meant. His suspicions were put at ease, at least momentarily, at the mention of food. His stomach growled. He stood as the man slid the key into the lock and wondered for a moment if he should change. No, he decided. It's easier to wait and see if i'm let inside and feed. It's too cold and tiring to go running around without clothes or fur.

[Hadrian]

Hadrian turned the key in the lock, pulled the gate open and Grigor was well-trained enough to step behind Hadrian, a mittened hand clutching the flare of his winterbane coat, but he smiled with quiet delight as the wolf wandered in. As Hadrian closed and locked the gate behind him, he assured him, "You are not a prisoner here, but there's a pox going around and we can't have people wandering in and getting the children sick. Grigor, be a help and run ahead, ask Lily to meet me in the kitchens." The boy, pleased to have been given a task, bolted for the building. Hadrian gestured respectfully toward the building. "If you'll come with me, I'll take you to the kitchen. You can warm yourself by the hearth, take something to eat. If you don't mind, our healer will be sure that you are not carrying the pox." Assuming the Kelvic would agree, albeit without words, he began to lead him across the courtyard. The West Wing was obviously abandoned, but the East Wing looked sturdy enough.

[Adler]

Adler followed Hadrian cautiously, still warily looking out for the signs of some sort of trap, though he knew it to be unlikely. Finally, after casting his gaze around one last time he let the snarl drop from his muzzle and focused himself on the thought of food. He fell into step beside Hadrian, his ears perked, listening, towards the young man as he studied the building before him. He grunted in agreement at the mention of the healer. Though he did not like the though of a stranger poking around at him it seemed a fair trade for the food. It wasn't often that Adler thought his human skin to be better than his wolf skin, but these was defiantly one of those times. He wanted to talk and ask questions. Even if he tried he could barely remember the last human conversation he had had, apart from the vague "Which way to Zeltiva"'s he had asked during his trip from the wilds and to the city.