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Nat haniel Sterling
Hunter

Age: 37 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 1 - Strg: 14 - Dext: 9 - Endr: 16 - Luck: 6 - Int:
Played by: kae Offline
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Posts: 63 | Total: 255
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#1
Nate !
An incomplete list of the reasons chickens are the best animals in the world:
     
  1. They don't care.
  2.  
  3. They don't care.
  4.  
  5. They don't care.
They don't care if Outlanders are running amok. They don't care who's queen and who's not. They don't care about gods, or allegiances, or anything except whether or not they have food and water and comfort. Nathaniel's life would have been a lot easier if it only contained chickens. Feeding chickens. Watering chickens. Chasing foxes away from the chickens. Chickens and maybe the dog, because the dog was the only thing to be relied upon in times of need. But he had certainly never benefited from contact with higher life forms at any time. He was certainly not benefiting now.

He was still pissed off, actually. Monumentally, cataclysmically pissed off. But the chickens didn't care about any of that. The chickens only knew it was too hot for any sane animal to be alive, much less outside. They took shelter in the coop and flared their wings and bickered. They hadn't been laying well for several weeks, and Nathaniel knew it was the heat. The same thing happened every year, more or less. So he left them behind with only the dog for company, and maybe the Outlander, if their personal Outlander returned from whatever he was doing. Nathaniel no longer worried about him, in particular. He was harmlessly annoying, difficult to be angry with when everything else was going to shit. He could do with less smoking and more dependability, but he wasn't a nuisance. So he stayed.

And Nathaniel left for the trees.

Longheat retreated, trapped beyond the shadows of the wood. Out of direct sunlight, the day was bearable, if overly hot. Nathaniel had traded the heavy furs he wore earlier in the year for light, rough-spun fabric. A sheen of sweat stood out on his brow nonetheless. He did not particularly enjoy this time of year. Deep enough into Longheat, outdoors or indoors no longer mattered. The air hung stale and oppressive. Nonetheless, hardier creatures than Nathaniel buzzed in the branches and the undergrowth. The forest hummed, and he moved through it with only one ear cocked to the general noise. He knew it all well enough to ignore most of it; nothing too dangerous really showed up during Longheat. Most of his attention, instead, was focused on the ground.

Every now and then, he crouched to examine the undergrowth at the base of a tree. Sometimes, he stood again and left with nothing. But occasionally, he carefully pried a patch of moss from the roots and dropped it in the small basket he carried. The tiny leaves were cool against his fingertips, but he didn't gather the snow moss for himself. It was for the chickens, to line their nests and keep them acceptably cool at least for a little while. And it gave him something to do aside from being angry.

Vynter White


Age: 28 | Height: 6'7 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 0 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 10 - Endr: 10 - Luck: 5 - Int:
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#2
His new body was different. His front hooves and back hooves weren't shaped the same, and were much softer. When he pressed them to the ground he could feel everything, and the mix of pain and softness of the earth enticed him. It had taken him 45 minutes to figure out that in this form it was much more efficient to walk on his hind hooves than on all four. Once he was mobile he had been moving, coping with the way the hot sun felt on his skin. There was no fur to protect him now, except for a pale mop of mane atop his head.

His face bothered him, although he couldn't see it when using his front hooves to feel it was short, almost smashed in, and his eyes were placed in the middle. He felt like an alien. The thing that bothered him the most was his lack of wings, the precious appendages he had finally received after many months of asking the Gods for them. Now all that remained was a tattoo of a single angel wing centered behind his back. He couldn't see it, but for some reason he just knew it was there. This strange world was full of surprises.

He continued to explore among the trees, searching for anything that might pique his interest. The branches and leaves left a strange sensation across his bare body, making him feel slightly vulnerable. His old body's hide was thick and callous, able to take a hit and felt very little. Perhaps he could find something to cover himself with later on. For now he would focus on finding some food and water, he was hungry and for some reason grass didn't taste like it used to. Maybe this grass wasn't consumable here.

Before long the sound of movement caught his attention. The source of movement was much closer than he expected, causing him to make note that his hearing was not nearly as good as before. Icy eyes fell upon the figure of a man, covered unlike him and seeming to search for something. Was this man a horse that changed too? Maybe he could answer some of his questions. But first Vynter would help him search for what he needed. Quietly making his approach he studied what the man was gathering, before kneeling beside him and slowly searching for pieces he could find.

Nate
Nat haniel Sterling
Hunter

Age: 37 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 1 - Strg: 14 - Dext: 9 - Endr: 16 - Luck: 6 - Int:
Played by: kae Offline
Change author:
Posts: 63 | Total: 255
MP: 0
#3
Nate !
After a time, several clumps of moss carpeted the bottom of the basket. Enough to get by with, Nathaniel thought. He wanted to return home swiftly, while the moss remained as cool as possible. He spotted some more just a bit further on, though. A sizable cluster between the roots of a broad oak. Nate crouched to carefully remove it.

He did not expect company. He definitely didn’t expect company in the form of a silent, naked stranger. A large, silent, naked stranger with alarmingly pale eyes. Nathaniel forgot about being angry, at least. He forgot about everything aside from fight or flight as he flinched, stilled, and slowly rose to his feet, his dark eyes never leaving the naked man.

The stranger did not appear violent. Instead, he appeared to be mimicking Nathaniel’s movements. Which was somehow even worse than being attacked, Nathaniel decided quickly. “Uh…” He stepped back and made a vague, helpless gesture. “What the fuck are you doing? Who are you?” Where did you come from? Why do I have to deal with this? And myriad other questions lay thick on his tongue, waiting to be given voice.

But after the initial shock, his reflexes decided there was no need to run. Not yet, at least. Nathaniel’s free hand moved cautiously toward the knife at his hip, anyway. A practical tool more than a weapon, it had never been used to dispatch another person, but the blade was sharp enough to do the job. Nathaniel did not particularly want to use it. He also didn’t want to be in this situation, in this time period, with gods running wild and an evil queen presiding over his home.

So, if he had to stab a guy… he was going to stab a guy.

Vynter White


Age: 28 | Height: 6'7 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 0 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 10 - Endr: 10 - Luck: 5 - Int:
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#4
Vynter
When the man acknowledged him he seemed to startle, and Vynter could only watch as he slowly stood and eyed him. The boy stared back calmly, going so far as to tilt his head curiously upon hearing the question falling from the shorter man's lips. Vynter took pause for a moment, studying the stranger before slowly extending his hand out and dropping the moss into the basket.

"Helping," he stated in a deeper baritone, taking this time to study the person before him. He was built thicker than himself, darker hair and eyes set in a chiseled face that his longer locks framed. His face was nice to look at Vynter decided, but he didn't know what that had to do with anything. His gaze then moved to what he was covered in, studying the fabric to find it was well worn, but suited the stranger's stature nicely. Maybe he could help him find something like that for himself? He'd have to ask. His head tilted to the other side for a moment, before kneeling down to look at whatever was on the man's hind hooves. They looked heavy and entirely encased them. Were they meant for protection?

Before he could investigate further the man moved his hand towards something on his hip, causing Vynter to look up and study what it might be. He couldn't see it in its entirety due to the hand covering it, but his curiosity had yet to be satiated. Without thinking his long fingers began to reach out, hoping to take a look at what this stranger was hiding.
lalalal quote

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Nat haniel Sterling
Hunter

Age: 37 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 1 - Strg: 14 - Dext: 9 - Endr: 16 - Luck: 6 - Int:
Played by: kae Offline
Change author:
Posts: 63 | Total: 255
MP: 0
#5
Nate !
Helping.

“I don’t need help,” Nathaniel said tersely. He jerked back as the stranger approached, so the offered moss fell off to the side rather than in the basket. Nathaniel’s expression was closed, his dark eyes sparking, the muscle under his clothing taut as wire. Everything about the stranger screamed wrong. Wrong was not something anybody wanted to encounter in the forest, out of the neighbors’ earshot, when in Caido. Nathaniel stepped back again, widening his stance just slightly, and bringing himself out of range of those long arms. He had never seen anyone quite so tall. Had certainly never seen anyone quite so naked running around in the wild. Clearly, something was wrong with the stranger. Brazenly, desperately wrong if the way he looked at Nathaniel’s boots were any indication.

Why, of all days, did the naked maniac decide to take a walk today?

Still crouching, the stranger moved again. One long arm extended toward Nathaniel, and Nathaniel stepped back again. “Hey!” he snapped. It was the same voice he used when the dog was getting into something off-limits: hard and sharp and thunderous. “Hands to yourself,” he added in that same tone. “Don’t touch me.” He waited a moment then to see if the stranger would comply, or if he really ought to start fearing for his life. He probably wasn’t going to be as fast as someone this tall, so if it came to it, he was probably looking at stabbing the weirdo. And then what? Say the stranger was strong, too? Or got the knife away from him somehow? Damn it all, Nathaniel was trying to get away from the horrible things in his life, not add to them.

He sighed, and his eyes skated warily left and right, as if help might arrive at any moment. But no one would be looking for him. He was on his own. And he had never been gifted with diplomacy.

Vynter

Vynter White


Age: 28 | Height: 6'7 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 0 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 10 - Endr: 10 - Luck: 5 - Int:
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#6
Vynter
It was as if Vynter was doing all the right things to set this man off. When the man jerked back his offered moss fell to the floor, laying forgotten as the boy was focused on other present things. He didn't expect such a reaction from him, who lashed out and scolded him like a puppy. All Vynter could do was stare up at him with his intense eyes curiously, before bringing his hand back to rest upon his knee. Don't touch. Got it. Hands to yourself... is that what his hooves were called now? Taking a moment to stare at said hoof/hand he blinked, before suddenly focused on the moss again.

Slowly, so as not to set off his company again, he reached for it, cradling the pieces in his palm before standing. Looking around at the ground around him he began to place the pieces back where he found them, even going so far as to hiding them among the grasses so one would have to actively look to get them. Once his task was completed he looked back at the shorter one, head tilted as he studied what he was wearing. He would need something like that to likely keep warm, but where could he find it? Did this person make them himself, or obtained them by doing something? If he wanted answers he'd likely have to ask.

"What're you wearing?" that got to the point didn't it? Maybe he should be more clear so as to avoid confusion,"I need to find some." He wasn't used to talking this much, in this weird new language he suddenly seemed to know. Everything was so foreign from his previous form, previous life? But he found that despite the struggles he was beginning to enjoy this adventure. If only Fenyx were here with him to experience it. Something pinged in his chest at the thought of his twin, who he hadn't seen for years now. It was as if after Father died, she did too, disappearing into the abyss where Vynter couldn't find her. The thought made him sad, but he wouldn't focus on that now, he needed to worry about getting something to wear.

Coding base by Sky!
Nat haniel Sterling
Hunter

Age: 37 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 1 - Strg: 14 - Dext: 9 - Endr: 16 - Luck: 6 - Int:
Played by: kae Offline
Change author:
Posts: 63 | Total: 255
MP: 0
#7
Nate !
The stranger’s next actions are almost… conciliatory. Nathaniel watches, skeptical, as he replaces the moss. His every movement is careful, meticulous. As if everything before was simply a misunderstanding. And, knowing what he knows about Caido, Nathaniel supposes… it may be. He draws in a long, slow breath and lets it out just as slowly. With it, he also lets go of some tension. Ok. He doesn’t mean any harm. He’s just weird.

Reluctantly, Nathaniel meets those pale eyes as they turn on him again, a pair of vacant spotlights, endless and wondering. He sigh, aware that he's doing a lot of sighing right about now. “You’re not from around here, are you?” he asks, his tone weary. Nathaniel misses the days he worried only about Outlanders causing some nebulous, unidentified trouble. Like living where he could see them or bothering his chickens. He has so many worse problems now.

“You could probably fit into some of mine,” Nathaniel manages at last. His tone is not quite conciliatory, but it is no longer sharp. Just exhausted, as he feels so often these days. “You can follow me back home, if you want, but you can’t stay. I don’t have any rooms left.” He needs to get the moss back home, anyway. He turn slowly, keeping a wary eye on the Outlander all the while. “I’m Nathaniel,” he adds. Why not? “You probably have questions. I’ll answer them if I can.”

Vynter

Vynter White


Age: 28 | Height: 6'7 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 0 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 10 - Endr: 10 - Luck: 5 - Int:
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#8
Vynter
It seemed he had done what the man wanted, for his anger seemed to slowly fade to resignation, a sigh escaping those soft lips Vynter found himself lingering on. His question brought him back to reality, and once his words registered he merely shook his head in affirmation. He dared to take a step closer to him, eyes still studying his face for any sign of rejection. When he received none he stopped a comfortable distance from him, waiting for an answer to his question.

"You could probably fit into some of mine..." he had more of those things? Was it something that was collected in large numbers over time? He didn't know if he'd be able to carry more than one set of fabric on his person. Upon his invitation he nodded, falling in step beside him to show his agreement. He didn't expect to get a name from him. He didn't think he would offer to answer any questions he might have, because hadn't he been just yelling at him before? But that didn't mean he wouldn't take advantage of it. He took a moment to figure out what he wanted to ask, keeping his strides shorter so he didn't overtake Nathaniel, before finally voicing his biggest question since arriving here,"What are we?"

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