10-30-2018, 01:53 PM
[size=10pt]Jael admits he's been enjoying the weather lately, but he dreads what comes next. Winter is practically the bane of his existence. He's stopped travelling in the evening just to avoid the freezing temperatures - even in early autumn, the cold is absolutely unbearable late at night, and he'd rather not catch hypothermia while scrambling to find shelter. His wings, large as they are, also offer him no warmth. If he drapes them over his body, they'll just drag in the dirt and take the brunt of the cold air. They stay folded against his spine as he walks - or, rather, hobbles.
Speaking of, he has no clue where he's going. Usually he'll peek at a map or ask around for directions to the nearest stop before he heads out, but this time he'd just started walking and hasn't stopped since. Ever since he lost his leg, his wanderlust has grown... faint. Everything seems so dreary. He has no more interest in sightseeing. Not even the most beautiful scenery catches his attention; it's all the same thing with different colors and different lighting. He's been hoping that he'll gain interest in the one thing that really made him happy once again, but that's still yet to come.
He lost his leg only a month ago. Jael supposes that it will take a long time to heal and move on, but he's so impatient. He wants everything to be better now, he's already sick of being so - so sad. He can only keep moving and hope for the best. Even though the passion and excitement is gone, he still can't bring himself to stay in one place for very long.
Just through the pass, he can spot a wall of sorts. He must have stumbled across a fort of some sorts. Jael's pace grows slower, and he becomes cautious, careful to scan for any weapons poised his way. It's a rather large wall, one that seems to span a considerable distance, so he doubts that a single three-legged dog is much of a threat to these creatures, but there's no harm in being careful. Once Jael deems that no arrows will rain from above and shoot him down, he approaches the gate, and whoever's guarding it.
"What's this place?" he asks. "Some kinda fortress?"
Speaking of, he has no clue where he's going. Usually he'll peek at a map or ask around for directions to the nearest stop before he heads out, but this time he'd just started walking and hasn't stopped since. Ever since he lost his leg, his wanderlust has grown... faint. Everything seems so dreary. He has no more interest in sightseeing. Not even the most beautiful scenery catches his attention; it's all the same thing with different colors and different lighting. He's been hoping that he'll gain interest in the one thing that really made him happy once again, but that's still yet to come.
He lost his leg only a month ago. Jael supposes that it will take a long time to heal and move on, but he's so impatient. He wants everything to be better now, he's already sick of being so - so sad. He can only keep moving and hope for the best. Even though the passion and excitement is gone, he still can't bring himself to stay in one place for very long.
Just through the pass, he can spot a wall of sorts. He must have stumbled across a fort of some sorts. Jael's pace grows slower, and he becomes cautious, careful to scan for any weapons poised his way. It's a rather large wall, one that seems to span a considerable distance, so he doubts that a single three-legged dog is much of a threat to these creatures, but there's no harm in being careful. Once Jael deems that no arrows will rain from above and shoot him down, he approaches the gate, and whoever's guarding it.
"What's this place?" he asks. "Some kinda fortress?"
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