6th of Cylus, Arc 717
"Fucking hell, it's cold," the man shivered. He'd been putting sticks up together, structuring them to support one another and digging them into the ground, but not enough - seemingly - to keep his makeshift shelter from falling, and more than once. It was on the fourth failure, now, though with each attempt he seemed to make a good deal of progress. His hands were shaky because of the cold, but he'd learned to deal with it, the fur on his leather armor warming him up just enough alongside the sweat of his labor to keep him from freezing to death. Caed's body was strong, thick and sturdy, and as a Lothar, he had the endurance to withstand the cold.
Thing was, it was getting desperate. He hadn't even placed the animal skin veil around the hut, he'd only now finally begun to manage to tie the sticks into their proper place.
With a tug, he pulled on the skins he'd sewn together on the floor, using bristle as his weave and small bones as his needle. Caed had improvised and improvised and improvised, facing death in the cold and longing for the Cabin he left in Ne'haer. Even so, he persevered, and with hours of laborious sewing and weaving, he managed to tie enough skins together to cover the tepee, the sticks jutting out the top. It was large enough to fit he and his wolf, though Sidhe was only a familiar, and in truth did not need the place in the tent. It was a gesture of kindness, in case he did not wish to leave his side.
Caedhe had endured similar things as this before, and Rharne wasn't particularly cold compared to North Gauthrel in the winter. What made this all difficult was the lack of resources around - such as durable animals from whom to derive thick hide. He'd been forced to gather the remains of deer, wolves and rabbits at the best. Rharne's wilds were startlingly safe, with animalia as diverse as the sky was green.
Sidhe returned to Caedhe, bearing a dead rabbit between its fangs. The familiar manifested, massive, Caedhe petting its forehead as it dropped the rabbit at his feet. "Thank you," he said, shivering. He retreated into the tent and pulled the rabbit in, covering himself from the cold for but a moment to try and warm down. He would need to build a fire to truly keep himself warm, and to cook his food, but he lacked the stamina to do so at the moment. Today had been a long and miserable day, filled with far more failure than success.
The wolf taking on a more ethereal form, only half-manifesting, it began to move around and gather sticks. In truth, without Sidhe, he didn't know if he could have survived this Cylus... but even with him, he wondered how long he could go? He needed a cabin again, or something of the like. And stores of food, for times like these. Starting over was the most difficult thing, moreso than any biome or stretch of wild.
As his wolf gathered thistle and branches, the man stayed huddling in his tepee, silent as death save for the sound of cold shivering.
"Fucking hell, it's cold," the man shivered. He'd been putting sticks up together, structuring them to support one another and digging them into the ground, but not enough - seemingly - to keep his makeshift shelter from falling, and more than once. It was on the fourth failure, now, though with each attempt he seemed to make a good deal of progress. His hands were shaky because of the cold, but he'd learned to deal with it, the fur on his leather armor warming him up just enough alongside the sweat of his labor to keep him from freezing to death. Caed's body was strong, thick and sturdy, and as a Lothar, he had the endurance to withstand the cold.
Thing was, it was getting desperate. He hadn't even placed the animal skin veil around the hut, he'd only now finally begun to manage to tie the sticks into their proper place.
With a tug, he pulled on the skins he'd sewn together on the floor, using bristle as his weave and small bones as his needle. Caed had improvised and improvised and improvised, facing death in the cold and longing for the Cabin he left in Ne'haer. Even so, he persevered, and with hours of laborious sewing and weaving, he managed to tie enough skins together to cover the tepee, the sticks jutting out the top. It was large enough to fit he and his wolf, though Sidhe was only a familiar, and in truth did not need the place in the tent. It was a gesture of kindness, in case he did not wish to leave his side.
Caedhe had endured similar things as this before, and Rharne wasn't particularly cold compared to North Gauthrel in the winter. What made this all difficult was the lack of resources around - such as durable animals from whom to derive thick hide. He'd been forced to gather the remains of deer, wolves and rabbits at the best. Rharne's wilds were startlingly safe, with animalia as diverse as the sky was green.
Sidhe returned to Caedhe, bearing a dead rabbit between its fangs. The familiar manifested, massive, Caedhe petting its forehead as it dropped the rabbit at his feet. "Thank you," he said, shivering. He retreated into the tent and pulled the rabbit in, covering himself from the cold for but a moment to try and warm down. He would need to build a fire to truly keep himself warm, and to cook his food, but he lacked the stamina to do so at the moment. Today had been a long and miserable day, filled with far more failure than success.
The wolf taking on a more ethereal form, only half-manifesting, it began to move around and gather sticks. In truth, without Sidhe, he didn't know if he could have survived this Cylus... but even with him, he wondered how long he could go? He needed a cabin again, or something of the like. And stores of food, for times like these. Starting over was the most difficult thing, moreso than any biome or stretch of wild.
As his wolf gathered thistle and branches, the man stayed huddling in his tepee, silent as death save for the sound of cold shivering.
