THE FLAMES LICK AT MY FEET

it was late at night and the winds were like ice on her skin. her fur was fluffed up against the winds as she trudged along the edge of the frostguards boarder. moving with a purpose and soon hopping up a ledge and into a small cavern. the icy winds blocked by the walls of her outskirts home. she would shake herself and shiver slightly.

turning to her cauldron and blinking. did she have time for any potions today? she could always make another sleeping potion or a poison concoction to tote about. she never got to use the many she made. though, she did sell them from time to time. deciding against it, she would go to add a few sticks to a small flame near the entrance. hopefully she could keep it going until she could find herself some more matches.

time would tell.

"speech"

THE WAVES WILL BREAK! -- hellhound. regent.

the spark of a flame were what drew him near, a lantern hanging from the regent's jaws as he trundled along the edges of his ice-locked home, the spring thaw making the paths treacherous, and the thaw threatening to overwhelm the vihar bridge and cause flooding. this year was warmer than most, with the thaw having started far earlier than other years, causing concern for the regent, and concern on how he would look out for his group. what if the eyes of thol over-filled and began to flood? what if the glacier melted?

his concerns weren't unfounded, but there was nothing that he could do about nature. he was not all powerful, and the hellhound himself was frail, sickness taking him slowly as he overworked himself in the highest order to try and prepare the group for the planting season, it being the only season that travel was truly safe to conduct from the land. the arrival of spring brought concern to him, wondering how many would leave with the retreating snow, never to return to the frozen north. he couldn't blame them, he really couldn't, for he often wanted to leave as well but his loyalty kept him here.

the icy winds covered the smell of the fire, and of salem's scent, but the sharp eyes of the god landed on the small glow of fire that he could see in the darkness of night, a thrill running up his spine. it was dark and stormy, the moon and stars overcast by thick clouds almost promising snow. he would rumble uncertainly as he continued his approach, searching for a safe foot path. was someone stranded?  well, somebody had to be there, the fire had to be maintained somehow. finally, closing in on the small cavern, would his body block some of the wind entering the cavern, calling out after setting his lantern down, "hello? anybody here?", not having seen salem.

[align=center]"speech" .. 'thoughts' .. attack

THE FLAMES LICK AT MY FEET

a voice calling made her turn to eye the stranger in her home. her first thought was a witch hunter. not common this far north, but the other was not posing a threat. so, she decided he might be lost. the shadowy woman would step back into the light and let her eyes flick over the stranger.

"my name is salem. what can i do for you?" were they a lost traveler or a shopper. she could not tell, but in this weather she hoped they were not lost. it would be a while before it was fully safe to leave. the lovely witch would take a seat and let her eyes scan jer.

"speech"