Zeinjave

Barb stopped, raised her head to smell the wind, and grumbled in her chest at her mate, Thistle. To his credit, he lowered his head to her acknowledging the danger she smelled. “Loot.” was his laconic reasoning. “Fool.” She replied; but whether it was toward him for leading them to the ruins or herself for following despite the bad feeling the place gave her, she couldn’t say. Around them bits and pieces of what had once stood here lay shattered and tumbled haphazardly, pieces of hard shiny material glinting in the sunlight. Though Thistle and Barb had no clue what rebar, broken walls, and smashed vehicles were, the smell of some strange animal still lingered here, a reminder of some ancient tragedy. Bones could be seen in places, scattered by scavengers while they had broken them open for the marrow inside. Barb ignored the yellowing remains though Thistle spared them a single glance as they continued to make their way toward a large tree that grew out of a clear and shiny rock around

Barb stopped, raised her head to smell the wind, and grumbled in her chest at her mate, Thistle. To his credit, he lowered his head to her acknowledging the danger she smelled. “Loot.” was his laconic reasoning. “Fool.” She replied; but whether it was toward him for leading them to the ruins or herself for following despite the bad feeling the place gave her, she couldn’t say. Around them bits and pieces of what had once stood here lay shattered and tumbled haphazardly, pieces of hard shiny material glinting in the sunlight. Though Thistle and Barb had no clue what rebar, broken walls, and smashed vehicles were, the smell of some strange animal still lingered here, a reminder of some ancient tragedy. Bones could be seen in places, scattered by scavengers while they had broken them open for the marrow inside. Barb ignored the yellowing remains though Thistle spared them a single glance as they continued to make their way toward a large tree that grew out of a clear and shiny rock around

Abaddon's fur rippled and swirled, and he narrowed his eyes as he continued to stare into the wind brought by the sea. He could often be found on this spit of land along Roenden's coast. A thin peninsula at high tide, the waves crashing on sheer banks revealed at low tide a large network of tidepools, perfect for hunting. Out among the drifting icebergs, the grey and mysterious green waves were home to a pod of orcas he could regularly watch as they hunted their varieties of prey. A particularly loud seagull flew by screaming obscenities as it dove to snatch a small fish before rising back to its flock of fellows, Abaddon's only sign of acknowledgement a flick of his tail. As another gust of salty spray and wind blew into his face, he narrowed his eyes, rising from his lounging position on his belly to his haunches. Was that Fujiwara returning with Kwame? Yesterday the gargantuan bird had given himself and Vanadey an unpleasant surprise, dropping out of the sky onto a particularly