This is a [PRP] Private Roleplay
between Ezhno Paiute (Whirlwing) and Shayan Javed (bpyan)
set in the Nysotia Forest.
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between Ezhno Paiute (Whirlwing) and Shayan Javed (bpyan)
set in the Nysotia Forest.
○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○
Daybreak found Ezhno's bed empty; sheets, blanket and pillow tangled on the floor in a makeshift nest. As light poured in through the window, he propped himself up and dragged a hand over his face, catching dampness on his palm as he went. His sleep had been disturbed – because he was in a strange city, or because his space was being intruded on by these absurd rooming arrangements, he didn't know or care. For now tiredness dogged his heels, but everything could be conquered through will, even dreams.
He unfolded himself from the cocoon of blankets and stood, stretching away the mild stiffness as he padded towards the only lookout. The sun in Ciphar was warm enough but didn't seem to burn, as though Halan took pity in the people's soft skin. Intent on testing this newfound boon and finding a place where the air wasn't so stale, he slipped from the building they called the Common House. As confounded and reluctantly impressed as he was by the sheer size of the living quarters - tall enough that he could cast his eye into the distance, and in that distance, discover the top of a mountain – the setup prickled Ezhno's instincts. It had all the trappings of an elaborate cage.
He ran aimlessly just to prove he could. As if blown by some divine wind, the city's blinding structures soon gave way to the heart of Chahliye's land. Ezhno breathed deeply the smell and warmth of damp rising from the earth. Shrubs clotted the ground like green-black stubble and crisp leaves crunched beneath his bare feet as his pace slowed. He'd seen this place from afar, the tree-blackened slope they called Nysotia.
Perfect. A wide grin took over his features as he produced his stowed butter knife, twirling it idly between his fingers. Surrounded by trees that had been allowed to grow old enough to sustain his weight; in the desert wood was a hot commodity - nothing got far beyond the sapling stage. He'd been in need of a hunting ground - maybe a rabbit would wash out the overwhelmingly diluted rot they tried to pass off as black drink. "May Asha grant us a quick kill," he murmured, and slunk into the shadows, his movements not unlike an animal's.