• [ Vincent Pierce ] •
22 Years Old | Male | Loner | Unknown
Location: Outskirts: | Mentions: None

In the distance an unfamiliar figure meanders through the wilderness, three canines with proportions that seem more befitting of some unknown cryptid than an actual dog striding confidently around him in a circle. To the left is a tall, brindled male with a short, sleek pelt and half perked ears that lay back against his skull by nature, to the right a dog who's snout nearly reaches his elbow, covered in wispy white fur splotched with red and dark, piercing eyes, and at the front a rust and white colored pup with floppy ears bounds along with a loling tongue and bounce to every step.

The figure that accompanies these rare hounds appears to be humanoid in shape, but it is quite difficult to determine what they look like. Thick garments bleached to hues of light cream cover their frame, and a cracked visor hid their eyes. A large satchel hangs over one shoulder, a bow and quiver with three arrows attached to their back. Their steps seem a bit laborious, tired. Have they been walking all night? They carry a torch in one hand, the dwindling flame implying perhaps that might be the case. There's blood staining the cloth along their right arm, and the patches of color on the white dog appear to be unnatural upon closer inspection, though from her powerful gait it seems most of the life essence soiling her pale coat was not her own.

What a sight to come across! Eventually those footsteps get slower and slower until the figure bends over for a moment, one hand braced shakily against their knee as they try to catch their breath. The brindled dog whines and that same hand reaches out to ruffle his ears in reassurance before righting themself. Their belongings slid to the ground to sit beside a block of stone that might've once belonged to a building that has long since fallen apart, letting themself rest on top of it. The torch is put out in the dirt, no longer needed now that the sun had arrived. For all it must have taken them to survive this long solo, they aren't being very smart right now.

Their back is turned, they're off guard. So certain they're alone. The pup catches sight of something in the distance and takes off with an excitable yip, eliciting the attention of the two adults who charge after the foolish youth, further distracting them as they rise to their feet. A sharp whistle emits from the figure, but none of the canines heed the signal and they audibly groan before simply staring after the dogs with dismayed body language.

((@Lady, come get ya boy.))

━─━─━━─━「₪」━━─━─━─━

• [ Rafael Ramírez ] •
25 Years Old | Male | Warrior | Shifter
Location: Outskirts - Temporary Camp | Mentions: Calida, Isaiah (Indirectly) / Open

The creatures were long gone by the time Rafael wandered from the safety of their crumbling shelter to patrol the area, lip curling partially over a sizable canine as his head dipped to sniff where they once stood, breath stirring up dust. Claws unsheathed and lashed at the ground, marring the large claw-marks left behind by the hounds with his own. A silent challenge, a threat. He has little doubt they would be back tonight, but the Nomads too would be long gone by then. The gentle warmth of the rising sun seeped into his dark fur, casting a brownish hue that revealed the rosettes dappling his sides more easily. For a moment his face lifts toward the horizon, watching as light seeped from the sky and bathed the earth in a pale glow. 'There is beauty in simple things,' the chief of his last tribe's voice echoes in his mind. 'Those are the things you should appreciate. The gifts of the Earth.'

Maybe that old man wasn't completely crazy.

His golden gaze does one last sweep of the vicinity before prowling back to the temporary camp, the sound of quiet chatter and the shuffle of people collecting their things greeting him before long. Within a few swift steps he's changed from beast back to man, acknowledging few as he made his way through the crowd. Rafe didn't have much to his name so there was little to collect. Everything he owned fit into a single bag the size of a backpack and he hadn't unpacked any of it the previous night. It's exactly where he left it, propped against the last standing wall. Flinging it over one shoulder, he catches sight of Calida rejoining the group from her silent watch. He looks away before their eyes can met, which brings Isaiah into his line of sight next. That one was alright, but he doesn't seem particularly interested in approaching him either. The Nomads would be used to that though. Rafe isn't openly hostile, but he's not exactly a people person either, now is he?

Lorelei | Werewolf | Nomads | Provider | 22 Years Old
Location: Around Temporary Camp | Mentions: Vincent Pierce [Direct], CLOSED

The night had been rough. That’s normal though, considering they were practically on the run from these pathetic creatures that lingered within the shadows. Lorelei was up before the light even touched the world. She was tasked with the last watch, which she didn’t mind, since she could never sleep through the night. Lorelei wished they could just attack. She was sick of being watched from the shadows like she was the prey. She wasn’t. Something had to change, whether that change was for better or worse. Before the sun had risen fully, she was slinking about, gathering her belongings and supplies, flipping off the eyes that tracked her every movement. The usual.

Lorelei made sure to zip up her jacket. Carefully, as to not anger the already fickle zipper that seemed to want to give out. When the sun had lifted, she simply strolled into the bones of this time-rotted town and its rubble. Maybe she’d get lucky and find something for the group. There was no such thing as ‘too much supplies’. She hoped something was at least growing nearby. Lorelei walked in a half-crouch, lowering her already pintsized build as she glided from place to place, hoping for something promising. Her hatchets were clutched and held at the ready, and her black cloth was drawn over her face.

It wasn’t long until she stumbled across something of interest. Lorelei used what she could as her cover, ducking behind some rubble and peeking around the corner. A figure, drudging along, clearly exhausted. Three dogs at their side. A kernel of wistfulness grew in her chest. She missed her own pup. These dogs would clearly make this scouting risky, and the potential thievery even more so. A thrill-seeking grin grew beneath her mask. It only grew when their back turned, letting their belongings slide to the ground, and then, moments later, the canines took off after something. Anticipation crackled like lightning across her skin, urging her to slip forward. Lorelei minded her foot placement and her surroundings. And the position of the dogs.

She waited a few ticks, eyes bouncing from the exhausted form to where the dogs disappeared from, and then back to the figure. With serpentine precision, she glided closer, her trained grace and silence getting her as close as possible. She extended the blade of her hatchet swiftly, noiselessly, and swept the strap of their satchel up with the blade backing the handle, using this tactic to stay as far from them as possible. They were bigger than her. She didn’t like that, even if they were clearly tired. Her tactic was just as loud as if she were to snatch it from the floor by hand. The contents moved, the strap snapped at the sudden force pulling it taut. It was on her shoulder just as quickly as it left the ground.

As much as she wanted to snap off a few quick comments — obviously sassy and rough in nature — she figured it was best to get back to Calida and the rest of the Nomads. Instead, she did the mature thing and blew a raspberry at the humanoid and took off running, clearly more well-rested than they were.

Bishop | Shifter | Provider | 21 Years Old
Location: Temporary Camp | Mentions: Rafael [direct] Calida, Isaiah [indirect]

Bishop’s morning was pleasant! She took one of the first watches, stoking the fires and talking quietly to those still struggling to sleep with the eyes on them. It was hard, she knew. Hard feeling like fresh meat under the hungry eyes of less than friendly forces. The only reason she slept easy was the fact that she trusted their warriors. And the fact that she clutched her bent and dented bat in hand like it was her old security blanket. She missed that raggedy, old thing. Even if she was grown now, with a whole slew of other problems to face. Much more than she had when she was younger. Bigger than scraped knees and chores.

Waking up meant packing up their belongings. She did so eagerly, with some spunk. Doing a little bouncing around was a sure way to stay awake. Once she had packed her own stuff, she began dipping into some stretches, keeping her bag close to her side. After she was done, she slid her deer skin quiver onto her person and kept her bow in hand. Her eyes were drawn to Calida and Isaiah. Calida was kind of intimidating, and Isaiah was… massively more bearable. He was laid back, which was refreshing. Still, she gave both of them a wave in place of a good morning greeting and made a beeline to her fellow therian, Rafael. He was someone she was comfortable with.

”Mornin’, Rafe!” Bishop greeted properly, bumping cordially into the imposing man. ”I’m assuming patrolling went well?” She dipped to her bag and pulled out a couple of berries that she helped to collect while the group was on their way through, holding out her hand to him, offering a small morning snack. ”Ya know, noting the lack of loud jaguar noises and blood.” She popped a berry into her mouth and looked back to Calida and Isaiah. She wondered where they were to go next. She didn’t like the situation they have found themselves in. It felt like they were being backed into a corner.

She’d feel better about it if her other option wasn’t a fox. She wondered if being a jaguar shifter felt nice, knowing you could protect yourself in both forms. That jealousy has always been something she’s had. Even if she had total confidence in their warriors, she still wished she had some means of protection. Instead she had a form for escape. Great. Oh well, at least she was a threat with a bow and a bat.

Hecate | 21 years | Female | Second | Shifter
Location: Temporary Camp
Mentions: Calida, Isaiah Lyman, Rafael Ramirez, Bishop, Open

Hecate moved their hood from her face as she heard many feet begin to shift. The shifter didn't sleep, but rather rested her eyes for the night. Ideally, Cate would have taken a few melatonin gummies, but it completely slipped her mind. She had been thinking all night, even when on watch. She noticed that they were being watched through the night, and was sure at least most of the others had too. She got up to her feet, dusted herself off, and adjusted her clothes. Her "Shiru Ka" tattoo was slightly visible on her collarbone as her hoodie fell low from being taken on and off multiple times. She held onto a piece of large stone and stretched against it. She turned her gaze slightly to Calida for a slight moment. Hecate noted how Calida watched the fire the whole night. Cate would have accompanied the werewolf but she figured Calida needed to sink in her own thought for a while.

As Hecate strapped her twin blades, she caught sight of Isaiah, Rafael, and Bishop walking towards everyone's belongings. She gave an emotionless nod towards the three of them. " How are you all feeling? All okay?", she asked, grabbing her worn, Jansport backpack with a vivid green snake embroidered on it. Even though Hecate suppressed her feelings, she still cared, especially for the other nomads. She bit on one of her rings as she sat down, grabbing belongings that fell out of bags or were misplaced.


_______________________________________________________________
Thanatos | 16 years | Male | Adolescent | Werewolf
Location: Outside camp => Camp
Mentions: Everyone (Direct) , Open

The 16-year-old yawned and pushed himself off of the tree he was leaning against. He spent the night at the tree line with clear visibility of the temporary camp. The sunrise had an apocalyptic orange murk color that Nate shook his head at. 'what has this world come to', he thought grabbing his skateboard. He shook his bi-colored hair and brushed through it with his hands and headed towards their temporary camp. He saw a few others heading in too and observed them through his peripherals. He had kept his backpack inside of camp just in case it started to rain and he wanted to keep his belongings dry. He sighed, setting his deck down against a piece of stone to go retrieve his things. He fixed his belt snugly, walking a few more strides over to heap of bags, weapons, and other belongings. The adolescent wasn't bothered to do watch or even care about for his own safety, so he slept pretty well.

When he reached where the mass of nomads stood, he spoke. "Where to now in this dystopian world?", his tone carried that of if he were making fun of someone, but he was serious. He picked up his double-bladed sword and cleaned off the loose dirt that settled on the weapon with his pants before sheathing it. He also popped a mint in his mouth before offering some to the rest of the group.

Cassius & Amadeus | Provider, Warrior | Werewolves
Location: Temporary camp | Mentions: None, open

☽ ☼ ☾

It seemed that the idea of safety and security was but a distant memory now.

Amadeus distracted himself from his own restless thoughts with a soft tune as he went about collecting his and his sibling's things to prepare them for traveling yet again. His brother had left a mere two hours ago without offering word of where exactly he was headed off to, and the night's events left him feeling unusually uneasy. He couldn't stop running his fingers through his hair or fiddling anxiously with the ends of makeshift garments. Pacing himself into a ditch was an awful habit of his.
And of course he was so busy worrying over impossible scenarios that he hadn't realized not only had his brother returned, but he was standing directly beside him- and had been for the past three minutes.

"Are you going to have a heart attack now or are you waiting for someone to give you permission?" Cassius drawled as he leaned down to pluck a sack of their shared valuables out of the dirt, his brows knitting together when the elder nearly threw the thing he was holding. They stared at each other for a long while, during which the younger was sure the reality of his presence was being thoroughly evaluated, before Amadeus seemed to blink himself right back into his own mind.
"Find anything interesting?" Amadeus uttered rather sourly upon coming back to his senses. He had a right to be upset, not that Cassius had even left the camp; it just so happened that he got the violent urge to explore the place before they left it behind. "Mold and mildew," he answered absently, blissfully ignoring the glare that was now burrowing into the side of his face. There never seemed to be a time nowadays where his brother wasn't annoyed with him for one reason or another. Stress always takes its toll eventually. All of this moving around was starting to weigh down on Amadeus's demeanor; hopefully they'd find somewhere safe to settle soon, lest it be the end of his sane days.

• [ Vincent Pierce ] •
22 Years Old | Male | Loner | Unknown
Location: Outskirts: | Mentions: Lorelei / Closed for now

Noise behind him makes the figure whirl around remarkably fast considering how exhausted he felt, a hand on the hilt of the knife at his belt. Alarm and fear pulses through him with enough power to be crippling at the sight of a stranger, a hatchet clutched in one of her hands and his belongings slipped over the other shoulder. Things always got worse once they went wrong. He should know that by now, should've prepared himself for the reality of encountering another being prepared to rob him of everything he owned and possibly his life.

Instead, the girl merely provides a rude expression which stuns him into stillness before bolting and he's blinking after her dumbfounded before realizing he should probably do something about it. "W-wait!" Of course, she doesn't wait though. Another sharp whistle rings through the air, and this time the dogs blessedly answer, cantering back with wagging tails. Rose has something clutched between her jaws, a rodent of some kind. Ordinarily he'd offer the pup some praise, but the panic he feels is threatening to pour over the brim. He needs his bag back!

Orchid can already sense something is off, sniffing about furiously. Another whistle with a slightly different tone and she's off, the other two at her heels and their owner hurrying after them. Rose drops her prey in the excitement and he bends to pick it up. Couldn't afford to forsake anything in this environment, especially if he never managed to reclaim his things. Whoever this is they're fast, he can barely see them now and is certain he'd lose track of them without the help of the dogs. A decision is made in that moment, though he's loath to do it.

Yet another whistle and Orchid is after the fading figure with intense speed. A crescendo of barks lets him know within minutes she's got their target and he pushes himself to move faster, finding the dog blocking the thief's path. Unfortunately for him, he can see a building in the distance, decayed as it is, and detect some people moving around it. They weren't likely to go unnoticed for long and chances were she was part of that group. He would need to be quick about this. "Y-you!" He announces upon catching up, pointing an accusing finger. "Give that back." Wow. What a compelling demand.

━─━─━━─━「₪」━━─━─━─━

• [ Rafael Ramírez ] •
25 Years Old | Male | Warrior | Shifter
Location: Outskirts - Temporary Camp | Mentions: Bishop (Directly), Hecate, Thanatos, Calida, Damian (Indirectly)

A bump against his hip pulls Rafe's attention to the significantly shorter woman at his side, accepting the berries offered and popping them into his mouth without an audible thanks, though the gentle elbow nudge Bishop receives in return should spell it out well enough. He was a man of few words, after all. The mention of 'jaguar noises and blood' or lack-there-of in this case, does bring the hint of a grin to his face, followed by a shrug of his shoulders. "They left the moment the sun rose, I didn't get a chance to get gorey."

Hecate and Thanatos' arrival barely elicits a response, a simple nod given to the former when she asked after everyone and the boy ignored completely. Not like he knew where the hell they were going this time, that was for Calida to answer, and her answer comes soon enough. "A lake does sound nicer than here," he mutters to Bishop, only loud enough for her to here. "I wonder if hellhounds can swim." There's a tinge of mischief to his tone. Clearly, he plans to find out.

Watching Damien struggle with the baggage, he feels an inkling of pity, exchanging a glance with the only person in this place he considered close to a friend thus far. "What do you think, should we help that poor bastard?"

((Sorry for the lackluster replies this time around. Brain empty.))

Cassius & Amadeus | Provider, Warrior | Werewolves
Location: Temporary camp | Mentions: Calida [indirectly], open

☽ ☼ ☾

The brothers chatted idly to one another in hushed tones, standing about and letting their attention wander from group member to group member all the while keeping their distance. As badly as Cassius would prefer to socialize than amble around aimlessly, he simply wasn't a morning person- especially after wasting all of the hours that he should've been sleeping on slinking around in the dark. He rubbed his cheek in attempt to massage some warmth back into his chilled skin, then leaned into his own palm and made some barely-coherent comment about the weather as he waited for the grogginess in his head to clear up some.

Alas, his brother wasn't even half-listening. Amadeus's gaze was fixed elsewhere- upon their leader, to be exact, eavesdropping upon her conversation with another before he finally averted his eyes and seemed to fall into deep thought. How any one person managed to keep such a large group in tact was beyond him. Honestly, why any one person would even want to handle such a task was a mystery. With how much he worried over everyone's well-being already, his hair was probably going to turn grey before he was thirty-five. And he didn't even know the majority of them. Hell, he didn't even know most of their names. It was frustrating, too, that Cassius seemed to be infinitely more sensitive and still seemed unfazed by the condition the group was in. Or maybe he was just better at understanding monkey see, monkey do. You know; I panic, you panic. Perhaps it was best that Amadeus kept a sizable distance between himself and the rest until he could manage to get ahold of himself.

It took him a while to realize that his brother had left his side to go help pick up some of the bags of supplies and such that were lying around. He hesitated, remaining where he was until he decided to gather up their shared belongings that had been placed back on the ground before spiraling back into his own head.

Lorelei | Werewolf | Nomads | Provider | 22 Years Old
Location: Around Temporary Camp | Mentions: Vincent Pierce [Direct] | Closed

Lorelei was sure she’d have an easy go at this. A little bit of thievery to start the day was the norm for her. Most of the time she got out unscathed. Sometimes she’d fight for her score. But the thinking that this would be easy was slightly stunted by how quickly the man spun around. Not as tired as she thought, hm? Or perhaps that was just the adrenaline. Still, that didn’t stop her from making a break for it, dexterous feet filing away at the path before her.

“W-Wait!”

Lorelei nearly laughed. How cute! And unfortunate. She almost felt bad, but the almost emotion never stuck around for more than a moment. She had other people to help look out for, even if she would rather keep the stuff for herself. Looking out for them meant looking out for herself, too, she had to remind the nagging voice in her head that said to just… take off with what she had. She knew she wouldn’t survive long, though. Lorelei’s legs nearly stopped their tireless sprint when a familiar noise dug into her ears. A piercing call. For the dogs, she realized simultaneously. A venomous string of cusses flew from her mouth, muffled by her mask.

Why couldn’t they have just continued to disobey? Whatever. She’d make due. She just had to get to the group, that was her best bet. It would be one man and his three pooches against a whole group of shifters and werewolves. Some all too happy to tear someone apart.

Lorelei didn’t quite make it. One of the man’s dogs had her blocked, barking fiercely in warning and to call to their owner. She swore again, silvery eyes peering into the distance, to where the group lay. So close. She sighed and turned to put the man in her view as he came rushing up to her. A small smile twitched at her lips beneath the fabric. “Me,” Lorelei said, answering his stutter as if it were a question, clearly amused. Her head tilted, thin almond eyes scrutinizing him for a moment. “Oh, this?” She shrugged the bag further onto her shoulder. “Hm… No.” Another grin grew beneath her mask.

He seemed interesting. She held him in her gaze, like a cat staring at a mouse, moments away from pouncing. He had a knife, three dogs… why not use them, instead of trying to command her to return her score?

Bishop | Shifter | Provider | 21 Years Old
Location: Temporary Camp | Mentions: Rafael, Hecate, Damian[direct] Calida, Isaiah [indirect]

“Awe, poo! I’m sure you would have liked a little rumble, huh Mr. Macho?” All said in good fun, and she answered the little elbow nudge of ‘thanks’ with a simple smile. She was quite the opposite. She had a lot of words, and a lot of emotions to convey. Her parents always wanted her to be outspoken and clear of where she stood. “Maybe you’ll get a chance this time! To be all grrr! Rawr! Hiss!” She slashed at the air with fingers curled into claws. “Warrior stuff!”

Bishop turned her head towards Hecate, the Second, and gave her the same wave she gave Isaiah and Calida. “Good morning, Hecate! We survived another night, go us!” She was proud of all of them. She thought for sure someone would have done something stupid already. And by someone she definitely had a specific someone in mind. She didn’t bother to ask Hecate the question in return, as Isaiah — who had, saddeningly, ignored her enthusiastic wave — asked in her place.

Bishop perked up. A lake! How exciting! Except for the fact that there might be… Kelpies. She wondered if they were edible. She briefly made a face, only for that disgust to crumble and for amusement to grow in its place. She snorted out a laugh and swung her arm out to lightly slap his chest. “I would love to see that little experiment! Give me a good view, yeah?” She wasn’t for cruelty, but considering that hellhounds were… hellhounds, she didn’t particularly mind! If it were a deer or perhaps another person, she would be quick to think otherwise.

Bishop didn’t bother to throw her input into the conversation with Calida. It was clear she had a game plan, so she’d just ride it out with the rest of them and hope for the best. She did, however, catch Rafael’s eye. ‘Poor bastard? Oh!’ Bishop gave a resounding hum of approval and threw her own small satchel over her shoulder, with her bat shoved in to the top, extending out the side of the buckled flap. She lightly tugged on his clothing as she led the way to the Artisan. “Hiya!” Bishop greeted, dipping to grab a bag to carry. “My friend Rafe and his big ole muscles can take that for you! He likes to feel strong.” Clearly a jest, by the way her tongue was stuck out moments later in his direction. “Nasty time trying to sleep?” Poor Damian looked exhausted.