Black Morass Entombed me

Quick trade thread!

Among the dark, with the moon his forever guide, he dug. The Morass, despite the changing of the seasons, had yet to be stripped of the many various herbs and fungi to be of use and in order for himself to feel of any use, he needed them. Here he found some fungi which now he dug at, carefully plucking them and settling them to the side within a skin of elk from a prior hunt of himself and his packmates. He had every intention to bring them to Dove's settlement if she would so have him.

Again, he wandered. Aimlessly enjoying his days as they grew shorter with winter quickly approaching. The chill in the air could be felt through the pale pelt of his and though he was coloured appropriately for the weather to come, he wasn't quite fond of it. Nor was he fond of summer... both extremes made him feel out of sorts in a way - and so, he was clinging to the beauty of autumn just a little while longer. While the sun still felt warm in the day.

During his meandering, a strange black individual caught his eye. Digging in the ground and they didn't look quite... full wolf. Someone his father would have surely mocked and disliked for the impurities in their blood - but for Abaddon, he didn't mind. A lot of them were freaks, strange-looking in comparison to the wolves he was so accustomed to seeing, but nothing more. 

Interested in certain herbs himself - despite not being all too obvious about it - he approached with curiosity.

Hemlocke remained concentrated on his task at paw, digging around the fungi he had found and settling them into the elk skin. Upon plucking one more and lifting his crown to deposit it, darkened red eyes locked onto another- red eyes too, yet brighter then his own of dried blood and rimmed in blue around the pupil. Eyes which looked both wild and weird to Locke, then again, who was he to judge?

Caught off by the sudden arrival of another, Hemlocke's devilishly pointed ears turn back and his head rises high, curious just so as the man before him. He was a far bit shorter then himself, yet most were other then the behemoths within his ranks. Equally as often was, he was a heavier being them Locke, who's barreled chest sloped to a thin waste-line supporting long, stilt legs. A haunting wolf, cloaked in white with darkness around his eyes.

The Hellhound was torn between making a defense here or simply to try and enjoy the other wolf's company. He was, after all, within one of the two lands which bordered their territory all into this little 'land bowl' around the mountains. But alas, Locke was far less aggressive then his counterparts. He was weary of the man and yet, he by no means trespassed. He was but a visitor that happened to catch an interest in who he saw as Hemlocke had interest to him.

They locked eyes for a moment, Abaddon ready to defend himself should this one prove to be aggressive right off the bat (this is before Nyra and Donovan so I'll just keep playing as he knows nothing of the Saints yet). A coy smile only breaking through his mask as their occulars met, his heart thudding within his chest cavity, these moments were always thrilling to see how one would react to a stranger like him just waltzing up to them. 

Upon no clear signs of aggression, the phantom approached. Silent paws sweeping across the grasses with a gentle sway in his gait, eyes falling from the black beast onto the job he was doing. Mushrooms hmm? He knew a little about the subject, having some interest in botany of sorts... he wanted to learn more of the art of poisons so he had some means of defense than to rely on the bulk and muscle of which he lacked in comparison to the more battle-ready individuals of these lands. 

He wanted to work smart, not hard. That was the way of the vampire's code. What are your plans with thee fungi? He prodded... wanting to know more of what this guy might know already.

I guess my whole "quick thread" idea went out the window. Lol oops.

They merely stared at one another for a time, testing one another's limitations to see how one another regarded strangers. This one was a loner, or so it seemed by his scent (which oddly mingled with blood yet he was not at all bloody) and so would consider many strangers. The pack wolf however could regard him as some stray, but Locke did not. After all, much of his time had been wandering as a mere stray too. 

And so Abaddon came, closing the distance between the pair to engage in conversation. Legs quiver a moment, his muscles tensing in them. Ready to flee if Abaddon gave him any reason too. But the shadow was happy at the idea of the wraith's interest in his workings. Ears perking, dark red eyes turn down to the mushrooms he had collected. 

Havent decided. His deep tones finally reveal as he answers the other man's question. They were magic mushrooms as he had been told, though the little brown fungi looked nothing magical. Small, blended in with the muck, they could easily be overlooked as any ol piece of fungus in the forest or bog. I've been told, as he paws at one, They make you see things you cannot normally see with the normal eye. And that you could use them to speak with the Gods. But he left this bit out. Hemlocke had no intention to try and contact them this way, for fear of what might become.

The shudder in the dark one's legs did not go unnoticed. The vamp grinned at the sight, amused at the thought that some guy like this would be fearful of someone like the ghoul who approached him so casually. Certainly, Abaddon was something to fear, but not for the same reasons that one would fear a monster. He was a venomous snake in the grass, ready to strike those who wronged him - but other than that, the viper was just as happy to be on his way... and only fill his belly on some poor random unfortunate souls, but even they, with calm and understanding, would be left to live another day. 

Is that so? He approaches the little brow things inquisitively, sniffing it to see if he could detect anything special from such an insignificant-looking thing... nothing but dirt. They don't seem to be anything special. Have you tried them before? He was curious himself... maybe someday he wouldn't mind seeing these things of which the dark-man spoke of that only these fungi could show. But he had to be certain it wasn't some trick...

A grin by the shadow's quiver, one which had locked his legs as the tension in them had started. They were two very intimidating beings, two creatures with no outwardly ill-intent yet the appearance in which they were given screamed just that opposite. The shadow and the ghoul came together and here they found common ground and interest. 

He leans down, sniffing, questioning. The hellhound's head tilts, watching quietly a moment. That is there disguise. He explained when the white wolf said they did not appear to be anything special. They open doors to the beyond. To speak to the dead and see the Gods. A fungi of visions but, you never know exactly what you may see. His groveled tones whispered, toying with one of the mushrooms under his footing. 

I havent. He admitted then, when it came to having tried them before. Some doors are best left closed. And Hemlocke was not so certain he wanted to see what was behind those doors. And some, He admits with a small smile, lifting his head back up and shrugging, Are far braver then I.

Gonna wrap and close since Noki left...

The conversation was pleasant, light and so did close after a time. Hemlocke would need to return home before the sun began to rose and so would offer the man luck on his travels. With it, he would offer the traveler one of the mushrooms he had found. Taking the rest into a large leaf, the Saint would then carry the rest home.