[ P ] Death Is In The Air

Spring had brought many from out of town to the seaside of Aberdeen and Diaval took note of where they had come from, especially when they were kind enough to spare any sort of meal to give. Many of the givers had come from the direction of Iverness and after a while of testing his luck in one place, he decided to move along to find out what could be taking place in this other city.

Upon his arrival, he’d made the discovery of the River Ness that wound through the center of it all, leading him through the many living spaces of the locals. He let the river take him to an area that seemed to be particularly active. After the travel, he had to rest here and attempt to find something to eat.

Diaval figured that eventually he’d regain his strength enough to offer himself up as an apprentice to some sort of tradesman or craftsman that would be willing to take him under their wing while he began to work for his food. This was what his life would be now, it seemed. He let out a sigh as he lowered his body at the edge of a path, attempting to stop those who passed to ask them to spare him even a quarter of their food and then try to advertise himself as a man looking to work for what he earned.

A few of them turned him away until one particularly lavish looking fellow took pity on him, leaving him what was left of a deer leg although, he stated he was in no need of an employee of any sort. “Your generosity is well-received. Many thanks, my Lord.” He bowed his head gratefully, the noble eyeing him curiously and then turning to leave while Diaval picked up the meaty bone to feast on it elsewhere.

@Rue

table by Yahtzee-Penguiduck [da]. click for attributions.

THREAD TITLE MUSE

A

smile curled the edges of the somber tomboy’s lips as she gazed upon him from a distance, where, in his ragged state, he had not noticed her glaring eyes. Pathetic, she thought to herself, ignoring her own disheveled state, her personal bouts of hunger and desperation. But Rue had never been quite this desperate. She would take pleasure in taking him down, even if he was older than the yearling herself. Rue thought it beneath her, whatever ego she still clung to, to beg strangers and work for the high-and-mighty of these lands. No, the dark girl had other means of filling her belly, and her mouth began to water at the sight of the deer leg the beggar had been given. Soon, she hoped, it would be hers. Her massive form lowered to the ground as she prepared to pounce. The unfortunate brute, in his weakened condition, would hopefully be easy to overwhelm. She did not care who he was, why he was there, or what sad story he would tell. Rue was hungry. Nothing else mattered but her own survival.


@Diaval

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art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

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