Winter 512 AV, Day 50 Location: Endrykas The sun crouched low against the horizon and cast broad streams of cherry colored light upon the desert plains of Endrykas. Despite the winter season, temperatures were mildly warm, and Doraemein commended himself for trailing behind such a climatically appealing settlement. After all, his human form was pathetically feeble towards the cold in comparison to his more beastly side; chillier weather would have given him absolutely no choice but to shift. He did not distaste shifting of course, for it was painless and felt completely natural. The fact was, in most regions at least, residing in his animalistic form was a dangerous endeavor. Horse bound hunters and their malicious canines could sense live meat from miles away, and an elk was no exception. If they did not kill him, than they’d be sure to enslave a runway Kelvic like Doraemein. Thus, in human form, Doraemain watched the sun rise over Endrykas. He was dressed lightly and without a shirt, for anything more would feel excessive. His hair was matted from an absence of combing and tiredness hung heavy beneath his eyes. Behind Doraemein stood a makeshift shelter that exemplified his lack of survivalist skills. In the first few nights of his independence, he’d forsaken his tent completely, and instead had converted to sleeping on the barren ground. It was sure to attract some attention from the skillful nomads neighboring him, but there was really no other option. Doraemein had later learned to stretch the tent across various objects, so that it hung in the same fashion as an awning. It was a better method, especially on the nights that permitted rain, but still far from proper. Much more practice and, at last, the tent had reached its current state: drooping downward from three wooden stakes that were partially burrowed within the ground. Indeed, it had been a laborious task for him. Contrary to his tent constructing abilities, Doraemein did not lack intelligence. His struggles originated from his former slave life, which had encompassed his sense of self-thought like a heavy smog envelops the clouds. Doraemein arose from where he was seated and bushed the dry dessert clay from his jeans. He turned around, entered his tent, and used his foot to grind away the last embers of the previous night’s fire. A small satchel containing all the money he had to his name sat idly upon the floor. Doraemein picked it up, along with his knife, and headed back outside. A slender Zavian mare awaited him. Her body was of copper coloring, except for the patch of white upon her rear, and her youthfulness more than evident. Owning a horse was essential in these parts, for the Drykas were skilled horsemen, yet Doraemein detested doing so. Who was he, after all, to master another living creature? Nevertheless, he took hold of her reins and proceeded towards the city. After nearly a week of camping on the outskirts, Doraemein’s supplies had begun to dwindle. He needed more food, for himself as well as his horse, and various other supplies. He wasn’t accustomed to buying or trading, but knew that doing so was the only moral way to satisfy his needs. Thievery was not an option. Doraemein entered the bustling city of trade… |
OOCOpen for anybody!
