Humidity ((open))

[Django]

Soladeo Gloria was not having a good day. Cursing below her breath, the stocky rabbit analyzed her situation once more. She stood at the edge of a clearing in Mossflower wood. The sky was darkening, and the air was thick with the smell of an incoming summer rain. Her thick fur was already feeling heavier just from the humidity. A couple hundred yards away, she could see a big barn. It looked terribly decrepit, but she really didn't have much of a choice.

A raindrop landed on her nose, and she made her decision, grumbling all the way. "Razzin', frazzin', no-good barn don't have enough shelter . . ."

When she was halfway out from beneath the cover of the trees, the rain began to pour down. It wasn't just a quick summer shower. This was a late spring storm that had forgotten it wasn't spring anymore but had decided to show up anyway. Since Sola could not flatten her droopy ears any further, she scowled into the storm, sprinting as fast as her legs would carry her towards the shelter of the barn.

She finally made it, skidding to a halt on the dusty ground inside the barn. It wasn't exactly a world-class place. There were huge holes in the roof, which let in sheets of rain, turning large portions of the dry ground into mud. Sola groaned, hanging her head as she leaned against the big doors. Well, at least she could dry off in here. She just hoped her fur wouldn't get all poofy like it sometimes did.

"Poofy fur does not a happy Sola make," the rabbit chided her chocolate-colored coat. She slid her paws through her slick, wet whiskers, and then she moved to her ears. As a Holland Lop, her ears were probably her most prized possession. Long, furry, and droopy, they hung past her shoulders. She took great pride in them, considering them her best feature.

Sola sat cross-legged on the dusty floor, all of her attention now focused on her ears and fur. She didn't even know (or care) that some other beast might need a dry place to stay, as well.

[Onyxwing]

Brandstifter was clearing ancient paths through a particularly heavy section of woods when it started to rain. He quickly snuffed out any fires left burning and slung his flame siphon over his back. Ahead of him he saw a reasonable shelter, a ramshackle old barn. The shrew stumbled into the dry space and began to survey his surroundings. He found himself staring at a Holland Lop. They were quite prevelant in his country so he wasn't to suprised with the creature's appearance, the the crature itself. Brandstifter swung his flame siphon around and clicked flint to steel on the slow match. The siphon was ready to fire, but not the user.

"Who are you Lop" He said "I will not tolerate thief or murderer here!" The Shrew said not realizing he had guessed the Lop's occupation.

[Django]

Sola barely had time to look up before a strange weapon was thrust into her face. She leaned back, her wet fur forgotten as she suddenly found herself in an unfavorable situation. Apparently, another roaming creature had needed shelter from the rain, as well.

"Who are you Lop" He said "I will not tolerate thief or murderer here!"

Sola smiled sheepishly, getting over her surprise at seeing another creature. "Your powers of perception are frightening, good sir," she commented. Most creatures who met her usually just thought she was some kind of dwarf hare with extremely droopy ears. Being called a Holland Lop was a compliment to Sola. "But I promise I pose no threat to you."

She squirmed further away from the foreign weapon, hoping the business end would point away from her soon. "Besides, there is plenty of space for two," she went on, looking up at the owner of the weapon for the first time. He was a shrew, and a downright serious one, at that. She knew she could trust him when he said he would not tolerate thieves. And he looked like he knew how to deal with thieves.

[Onyxwing]

Brandstifter pointed the siphon down, he would share the barn with the Lop. Aside from not wasting fuel he could use some extra company while the weather took a turn for the worse. The Shrew took out a bundle of dry wood shavings and poured a small amount of fuel from his siphon onto it. He pushed the handle in slightly and a small stream of fire hit the wood shavings. He quickly suplemented this with a bundle of old boards from the wall and started a small fire. As he laid out his bedroll he talked "I was raised in harsh land to North. Lops very common there..." He trailed off. His capacity for this language was ending. To speak his native tongue would be bliss. But doubtful if anyone would understand.

"Eto vzorvali novyĭ yazyk delaet moyu golovu bolʹno!"
(This blasted new language makes my head hurt!)

He said, it felt refreshing to speak it again. He turned back to the Lop.

"You have been ... in... country long?" He paused several times searching for words. This Lop might just be a new friend in this strange land.

[Django]

Sola marveled how quickly the shrew seemed to go from hostile to relaxed. Well, all the better for her if he did. She glanced at the fire weapon, but her attention was soon drawn to his speech. It reminded her of long-ago things, far away things.

"Etovzorvali novyĭ yazyk delaet moyu golovu bolʹno!"
(This blasted new language makes my head hurt!)

She nodded in understanding. "Yes, it is a bit grinding on the ears," she replied. Though she couldn't speak a word of that tongue anymore, she still understood it. She scooted closer to the warmth of the fire, continuing her long chore of drying her fur. Already she could feel moisture leaving her cocoa-colored coat. She watched as the shrew unrolled his bedroll and made himself comfortable. She hadn't slept on a good bed in ages.

"You have been ... in... country long?"

Sola turned her eyes to the ceiling, formulating an answer. "Well, yes and no," she replied finally. "I'm relatively new to Mossflower, if that's what you mean. But I've been traveling around these parts for some time." She paused, studying him as a dull rumble of thunder sounded from outside. "My name is Sola, by the way. Soladeo Gloria."

[Onyxwing]

Sola turned her eyes to the ceiling, formulating an answer. "Well, yes and no," she replied finally. "I'm relatively new to Mossflower, if that's what you mean. But I've been traveling around these parts for some time." She paused, studying him as a dull rumble of thunder sounded from outside. "My name is Sola, by the way. Soladeo Gloria."

The storm had definitely increased with the crash of thunder. Brandstifter got up and rolled the ancient door as close to the wall as he could. "Brandstifter Horsa Aegis ... your service." He said. "You might know us better as Dragon Makers. Ve make dangerous veapons that burn things. Like flame siphon here." He said as he pointed to his flame siphon." He walked back over to his bedroll and unslung his gear and weapons. "Pleased to meet you Soladeo Gloria" He said extending a hand. "It would seem ve have both left homelands, as I see your veapons not seem come from Mossflover." Outside the storm raged and somewhere a tree snapped free of its massive roots. It was a good thing to be in any shelter, even a decrepit barn.

[Django]

"Brandstifter Horsa Aegis ... your service." He said. "You might know us better as Dragon Makers. Ve make dangerous veapons that burn things. Like flame siphon here."

"Yes, pleased to meet you, Mr. Brandstiff--Brander--Mr. Aegis," Sola greeted hesitantly. His name was going to be a challenge for her. The Dragon Makers thing was interesting information, but she was just glad he hadn't asked her about what she did for a living.

"Pleased to meet you Soladeo Gloria" He said extending a hand. "It would seem ve have both left homelands, as I see your veapons not seem come from Mossflover."

The rabbit took the proffered paw, shaking it heartily. "Oh, these old things?" she groaned in response to his observation. She pulled out her hook swords, watching as they caught the light of the fire. "Well, surprisingly enough, I got these from the Guosim, here in Mossflower." She shrugged, running a paw down the length of one blade lovingly. She was about to speak again when she heard a tree collapse outside the barn. She didn't particularly like rainstorms, especially when they were this loud. At least she had found the barn.

[Onyxwing]

Brandstifter got up while the Lop was talking and made his way over to gather firewood from the pile of boards.

"Guosim, good beasts, I am glad they control vaters in area."

He said as he moved the pile closer to the fire. He was glad he didn't have to weather this storm alone. It was an added bonus that the creature he spent it with knew of his country. Outside he heard the loud roiling of thunder crash across the sky. Sola looked like she didn't like the storm. Brandstifter had seen worse in his Northern homeland so he was more at ease. But he had never been in a storm this fierce among trees. Hopefully a falling tree didn't annihilate their shelter.

[Django]

"Guosim, good beasts, I am glad they control vaters in area."

Sola nodded agreement, replacing her hook swords in the straps on her back. "As am I," she replied. A comfortable silence settled between the two, and the rabbit took the opportunity to check her belongings. The trinkets in her trusty bag had suffered minimal damage, thank goodness. And her fur was finally dry!

Well, now seemed like a good time to get into a comfortable position to wait out the storm, since no wet patches remained in her fur. But what was comfortable for Sola was indeed very uncomfortable-looking to most other beasts. She folded her arms on the ground, rested her head on them, and lifted both legs into the air. She bent her knees until her hind paws touched down neatly upon her head, right between her ears. She smiled sweetly up at the shrew.

"Thanks for taking care of the fire, Mr. Aegis," she said.

[Onyxwing]

Brandstifter was about to reply when he heard a loud crack outside and then an dull thud on the roof before a gaping hole was tore through it. Rain poured through and doused the fire. The barn was holding up but probably not for much longer. The shrew quickly gathered his things

"Poĭdem syeĭchas!"
(Let's go now!)

Brandstifter shouted. The panic had caused him to revert to his old language. He ran to the barn door and tryed to push it open. A low creak resounded as he attempted to do so. If he opened the door he would bring the barn down on top of them! The Shrew took the tomahawk out of his belt and cut frantically at the rotten wood before throwing himself at the weak spot.


He went straight through the door.

He landed in the mud before getting up slowly as the rain drenched him. Hopefully the Lop would make it out.

Hopefully.

[Django]

Sola didn't even hear the shrew shout as she scrambled for her bag, still standing halfway on her head. She sprang to her feet and leapt out of the way of the falling tree, her strong hind legs propelling her across the barn. She slung her bag over her shoulder as branches and leaves cascaded around her, knocking her to the ground.

The pouring rain soaked her fur once again as she tried to get back up. Her heavy bag and her wet coat now weighed her down, but she managed to scurry away from the fallen tree. The new gaping hole in the roof let in the rain, which was swiftly turning the dirt and grime on the barn floor to mud.

"Heavens above," Sola murmured in awe. Summer showers were much lighter than this. Spring was really reproachful of summer's arrival this year. She suddenly heard the barn roof groan and knew she had to leave. The nearest opening she could see was the new entrance created by the tree. She wasn't much if a climber, but seven years in the circus had to account for something. Vaulting onto the tree trunk, she sprinted towards the opening, carefully avoiding branches that would trip her.

She was almost outside when her bag snagged on a sharp, thick branch. The ruined wood of the barn roof threatened to collapse upon her at any moment, but she would not leave her bag! Tugging desperately, she whimpered in terror as the roof groaned again. Her bag refused to come untangled. She heard a wooden snap, and knew her time was up. Unsheathing a hook sword, she brought the blade down on the strap of her bag and jumped clear just as a decent size chunk of wood crashed onto the tree trunk.

Sola tumbled to the damp grass, landing painfully on her tail, her bag and one blade clutched tightly in her paws. It was then she remembered the shrew. Had he gotten out?

"Mr. Aegis!" she called, standing up shakily and hurrying to the front of the barn. Even though she hardly knew him, she would feel a pang of sorrow to find him crushed beneath the tree. Luckily, it seemed he had escaped a crushing, as Sola found him in front of the barn doors, or what was left of them, unhurt and soaking wet. "Mr. Aegis!" she cried again, this time with a smile on her face. "So good to see you got out unharmed! I wish I could say the same thing, but falling trees tend to leave a few bruises."

[Sigurd]

Another beast lurked nearby. The otter had caught most of his capture's by now, and to add with his kilt, he now had a lovely cloak made of Ratskin. Torks watched his quarry from a nearby distance, all the while sharpening his vicious teeth.

[Onyxwing]

As he stood up. Brandstifter surveyed his surroundings. He was still in a daze, and ended up not hearing much the Lop said.

"I am glad to see you alright" Brandstifter said

He quickly spun around. Something was moving in the darkness. It was a feeling of being hunted that descended over him.

"Ve are vbeing vatched in bushes!" He hissed "Vhat do you vant to do?"

[Django]

"Ve are vbeing vatched in bushes!" He hissed "Vhat do you vant to do?"

Sola flinched back in surprise. Watched? How could he tell? And, what was more, who on earth would be watching two rain-soaked wanderers from the bushes? Thunder rumbled across the sky as the rabbit stifled a groan, this day just kept getting better and better . . .

"Here's what I think we ought to do, Mr. Aegis," she replied in low tones. "We should find out who exactly is watching us, deal with them accordingly, and then find another nice dry spot out of this blasted rain." She tied the ruined ends of the strap of her bag back together, slung it over her shoulders and placed one paw on the hilt of a hook sword. "That is what I think we should do."

[Sigurd]

"Come on Drifteye, you ready?" Torks asked his cloak, before pulling the 'hood' on, revealing an ugly rat head. The otter stood up, to reveal how mangy he had become over the years. A short, stubby beard had grown, covered in roots and leaves, with tiny smears of blood. Mostly rat. The otter had stopped grooming himself, and smelled of rotten corpses with a dash of river water.

The otter stepped forward, immediately seeming to bulge out with all of its height. If he wasn't slouching, he would've been much taller. "Only 'em, Torks Razorteeth, and me friend, Drifteye!" he said, patting the cloak top, and grinning. His teeth, tiny and razor sharp, were also pearly white. The only clean thing about him. "We was wonderin' if'n I could get something to eat, little rat?" he asked, before letting out an odd chuckle.

[Onyxwing]

Brandstifter primed the siphon, lit it's starter flame and opened fire. Roiling flame shot out in liquid form, illuminating their surroundings. It was more to scare the otter in front of them. Brandstifter wasn't going to kill him.
"Don't move fiend! Stay were you are or die!" Brandstifter yelled through the rain. The fire still burned brightly. Making each raindrop shine as it came down.

The Otter looked disturbed and insane. That rat cloak was strange. This otter had to be some crazy beast!

[Sigurd]

Torks swayed, though didn't blink, as the fire seemed to lunge at him. "Hmm..." he used to 'Drifteye', "I've never had cooked water rat, have you? Of course not!" he said, pulling back his head, and letting out a mad cackle. "You is'n a water ratter! A little fat, Difteye! I wish'n you was leaner!" he conversed with his cloak, before turning to the 'water rat', and other beastie.

"Oohs, is you sum kind o' hare?" he asked her. "I've never had no hare!" he said, before he started to spin around, as if following something. All the while, he spoked in a hushed voice, "And, why, Drifteye, would you think they'n know'd where Hooloe is? 'Cuz he is'n a water rat? Ah, Drifteye, now that is just racist!" Turning back to face the beasts, he smiled. "Want something to eat? I've got'n some food on me little raft! I'd give you it in exchange for information on me no good 'n dirty hearted brudder, Hooloe!" he hissed the name with such a hatred, that it could scare a badger warrior. "Skipper's code!" he added. Well, he'd never been a full-fledged Skipper, just a deputy.

OOC: cometolora.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=os&thread=1067&page=1
I've updated his profile a tad bit.

[Django]

"Oohs, is you sum kind o' hare?" he asked her. "I've never had no hare!"

Sola yanked out her hook swords with a low growl. "I. Am. A. RABBIT!" she snarled. She hated being mistook for a pompous, soldierly hare. Nevertheless, she tried to calm herself and listen to what this crazed and poorly dressed otter had to say.

"Want something to eat? I've got'n some food on me little raft! I'd give you it in exchange for information on me no good 'n dirty hearted brudder, Hooloe!" he hissed the name with such a hatred, that it could scare a badger warrior.

Sola paused, glancing at Brandstifter. She had to admit she was hungry, but she wasn't exactly eager to accept food from an otter who wore a dead rat as his cloak.

"Skipper's code!" he added.

Hoping the flames would hold for at least a few more seconds, the rabbit turned to the shrew, speaking quietly. "Personally, I don't like the looks of him," she began. "But I'm out of food and it's still raining cats and dogs. If he turned on us, I'm sure we'd be able to handle him. Now it's your turn to decide what we do."

[Onyxwing]

"Ve must go somewhere else! Or we might end up like his friend there!" Bradstifter hissed to Sola and gestured to to the rat cloak. That otter was certainly insane. The shrew didn't like being looked at like a meal!

Sola yanked out her hook swords with a low growl. "I. Am. A. RABBIT!" she snarled. She hated being mistook for a pompous, soldierly hare.

"Vhat if ve don't know about brother of yours? vill ve get food or be food?" Brandstifter shouted across the flame wall. They didn;t have much time. This mixture was made to be fast burning.

Thirty seconds he thought to himself.

[Sigurd]

"Drifteye says, and I repeat 'then we need the vittles'!" Torks replied, before looking up at the rat-head-hood, with his right eye. "Well, that's a bit uncalled for!" he said, his twitchy left eye staring at the 'hare's' swords. "What do mean, I'm a softie?" he asked. "Well, you're a bigger one!"

After a short hushed conversation with his cloak, he looked back at the pair. "I've got sleepin' bags, and red meat, and I've always wanted to know what it tastes like cooked!" he replied. "And you can help me find Hooloe!" he hissed. "Sold me off the slaver, did he?" he muttered to himself, and quite possibly 'Drifteye'.