Cthulhu_Wakes
Black Sun in a White World
2nd Ascending Air, RY 770. 10 miles from Kokito Village in Dalend's Glade.
dies soon enough, leaving the glade and the camp eeriely silent. Even birdsong and the cicadas that had been singing their song go mute. The whole of the caravan slowly gets back to work, some of the children crying in confusion, most of the adults simply wary. The horses and oxen spooked easily enough, right now they're practically ready to bolt. But Jonas and a few of the others bring them to heal easily enough.
To Anju, Kayadin, Lyrik and Adair
Jonas will come trodding up shaking his head, tugging his hair back into the typical tight ponytail. "In twenty years of coming through this area, I will never get used to that sound. This part of Shale is cursed they say, because of that sound." You're all removing tent rolls and the little paper lamps to hang in the trees for the evening. No one's sure how long Jonas wishes to camp for now. But it's a nice spot, not too far from a clean creek and there appears to be good game.
The wooded area you're sitting in practically lies on three little hills overlooking a vast stretch of grassland, the actual road about two hundred yards away from camp, winding and dusty. The trees whisper in the soft wind blowing through, branches scratching together, communing. The world seems empty since the Siren stopped. Only a minute ago...but still. The lack of other sounds aside the camp and the wind is jarring.
"What do you all think of the Siren?" Jonas chuckles, his face becoming a boyish picture again.
dies soon enough, leaving the glade and the camp eeriely silent. Even birdsong and the cicadas that had been singing their song go mute. The whole of the caravan slowly gets back to work, some of the children crying in confusion, most of the adults simply wary. The horses and oxen spooked easily enough, right now they're practically ready to bolt. But Jonas and a few of the others bring them to heal easily enough.
To Anju, Kayadin, Lyrik and Adair
Jonas will come trodding up shaking his head, tugging his hair back into the typical tight ponytail. "In twenty years of coming through this area, I will never get used to that sound. This part of Shale is cursed they say, because of that sound." You're all removing tent rolls and the little paper lamps to hang in the trees for the evening. No one's sure how long Jonas wishes to camp for now. But it's a nice spot, not too far from a clean creek and there appears to be good game.
The wooded area you're sitting in practically lies on three little hills overlooking a vast stretch of grassland, the actual road about two hundred yards away from camp, winding and dusty. The trees whisper in the soft wind blowing through, branches scratching together, communing. The world seems empty since the Siren stopped. Only a minute ago...but still. The lack of other sounds aside the camp and the wind is jarring.
"What do you all think of the Siren?" Jonas chuckles, his face becoming a boyish picture again.