FREE TO EVER SLUMBER | joining

Vandal wouldn't hurt a shaman unless they were directly threatening her clan. As big and threatening as she likes to pretend, she's not exactly the type to 'hit first, ask questions later' if she can help it. Battle has far, far too many consequences - consequences that she's seen with her very eyes, consequences that she continues to regret with every second her heart remains beating in Midgard. For all her bluffing, she's scared... scared of what else she'll lose. With each passing day, closer and closer to the raid, she feels that fear growing stronger and stronger, sinking its frigid teeth into a heart that's only barely started to heal.

She holds it well, though, hides her secret fear under heavy locks. The key, she's split into several pieces, each one given away to different people out of habit - out of necessity, she trusts them with it, just as she trusts them all with herself. While hidden within layers, Vandal's bone-chilling fear runs deep, she holds herself outwardly with as much bravado as she can muster - which is, suffice to say, a lot given the reputation she continued to uphold. She's someone who needs to be someone almost constantly. Being fearless is something that she can pretend to be.

The maned wolf wanders over, parts her lips to speak but stops shortly after realizing that Fischer is also there. Her ears heat up almost instantly, but Vandal pushes herself to act naturally (or, more accurately, even more naturally since she has twice to hide now). She gives herself one last pep talk and moves forward to stand beside the umber wolf, to address the - the siamese, who looks like she feels completely out of place in the island, and the expression is so, so odd and unexpected that Vandal tries and fails to speak again. Her jaws open, close, open again - and she finally manages to push out a strangled, "You a'right there?"

CAPTAINPAW

✯ — YOUNG LOVERS AND THEY ARE NOT SLEEPING

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captainpaw couldn't imagine being so far from home any time in the future. or, at least for long periods of time. he was rather comfortable seeing his crewmates. saying goodnight to them on his way back home. sleeping in a warm bed with cozy sheets and soft pillows. a ship that he required for his future career might not have that, of course, but he wasn't at that age just yet. he would need to achieve some important life skills first. definitely some life lessons to see to first.

he's never seen someone wash up on shore before, though. the young toms eyes search the waters, but not even a wreckage seems to be anywhere in site. she must be exhausted... he wonders how she's even standing.

"the typhoon is here!" cap jumped to answer, popping up from behind vandal to offer a cheery smile. "we live on some islands, and sometimes loot other people for big treasures! our leaders name is pincher, he's really cool sometimes. i'm captainpaw, by the way." it's all a rambling mouthful that he can't quite contain, too eager to answer her question.

"what are 'the plains'? are they a pirate crew too?" he had never heard of them, before. only the snowbound and the ascendants had ever come up in conversation before.

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✯ — male. the typhoon. easy. REF. BIO. — ✯

#psychosocial.

You will always be a monster, there is no turning back from it.
But what type of monster you become is entirely up to you -

ah, another displaced ?

He'd known other lands even after the fall of his families might - and in those times he'd worn other names too, vaako, visceral, Khabeleth, there were quite a few - with clans to follow, Sky, Blood and Rivers.

The dragon's brow rose slightly as he joined the group but otherwise kept quiet, his massive shadow a simple backdrop to those that would and have answered this strangers question.

Hm, interesting.

[sub]TYPHOON - CREWMATE - TAGS - EXTREME - REF - FACE REF[W]isker[/sub]

Ah, pirates. She supposes that pirates aren't too different from the raiders that she grew up with. In fact, they were probably the closest equivalent and her face flickers with a subtle sort of understanding. The tribes, her tribe, her home - they are savages to most. A group which pillages shouldn't sneer upon a group their equivalent on land.

The apprentice strikes her as naive instantly. It isn't a bad thing, she wishes she was still young and naive herself. Her childhood didn't last that long due to several factors, the antics of her brothers, the loss of her sisters. Better to stay a child and a happy child for as long as you can. "The plains are much larger than your island, imagine a sea of grass stretching as far as the ocean stretches into the horizon, and you will have the great plains. No one tribe owns the plains, I myself hail from the Dotharli tribe.

That being said... I think you would recognise our raiders as land-bound pirates yes." She hopes that answers his question, although she has no idea of the proximity of the plains to the island she finds herself on now. That means that she for now, lacks a home. Her sight catches the large figure of the dragon, which she watches with a detached interest. There is something off about him, but nothing concrete enough to cause her to form anything too damning of an opinion.

"If you raid, perhaps you have contact with the mainland? I could perhaps find my way home from there. I'd be happy to pull my weight until then."