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seekingvinlandWHO: Thorfinn
WHERE: House #8 and around the Village
WHEN: November 17th.
OPEN TO: OTA except for one closed at the end.
WARNINGS: The link to his nightmare mentions zombies and cliff falling.
STATUS: Open
House #8, Early morning.
A loud scream ripped through the house, followed just seconds later by the loud scream of a name 'Arneis' screamed loud through the night air, his window as always was opened so the scream tore through the night as well. The normally quiet man was loudest at night when his dreams would attack him in ways most people never could.
He had shot up in bed and was sitting up panting holding his chest not yet noticing the tears rolling down his cheeks. He never in his darkest thoughts thought the terrors of night would bring his departed friend into them. Seeing her face unmarred by her horrid death hurt so much worse than the dead touching him as they always did. His throat burned yet again and all he could do was stare off into space trying to force it all back down. Not yet realizing his roommates were in the room with him around his bed.
House #8, Back yard, mid afternoon.
Thorfinn never got back to sleep that morning. Instead he worked on getting soap made and stretching the useless pelts to be rawhide. The cellar had lots of his little projects littering it. The cellar had mostly become where Thorfinn worked so he wouldn't leave a mess or blood around the house. Today he wasn't down in the cellar but in the back yard splitting logs into firewood. He was gaining well defined sleeplines on his face. He knew a day would come where he would just sleep through a day no matter how bad the nightmares were. He had no time for that right now, he was very busy. Or at least he always said. His hair was twisted up funny with two smoothed bits of branch holding it in place. He didnt take the time to braid it today and had yet to consider making a leather band out of one of his many collected pelts.
Each strike of the axe if loud when he brings it down, putting his strength into it so he doesn't have to swing twice. Despite the elder master warning him before that doing so would tire him out faster, that was what he was doing. When each was cut he pushed it off the stump and moved to the next. With the snow coming down he should have been wearing his coat, but he had tossed it on the porch when he got started. The snow he found better and easier to deal with. He felt more at home with the snow despite the biting cold. At least he was used to it, and no longer sleeping in a pile of hay in this kind of weather.
The Village
Thorfinn almost always kept himself busy but his body was growing tired of the constant running despite his will to keep going. After dragging some lumber home and scavenging for more herbs, which filled his bag on his shoulder he made his way back to the village. It was nearly dark as he made his way through the streets. His hands shoved into the jacket pockets of the strange coat he had taken to wearing since he still had not taken the pelts to be stitched by one of the women yet. His hair was down to protect his ears as he walked.
He knew that people were growing worried with the animal deaths and even Jess had agreed no one should be out at dark alone, Thorfinn didn't care. He refused to be frightened even when he knew there was danger. He walked alone as he always had. Tromping through the freshly falling snow.
( House 8:closed for Jo and Kol )
WHERE: House #8 and around the Village
WHEN: November 17th.
OPEN TO: OTA except for one closed at the end.
WARNINGS: The link to his nightmare mentions zombies and cliff falling.
STATUS: Open
House #8, Early morning.
A loud scream ripped through the house, followed just seconds later by the loud scream of a name 'Arneis' screamed loud through the night air, his window as always was opened so the scream tore through the night as well. The normally quiet man was loudest at night when his dreams would attack him in ways most people never could.
He had shot up in bed and was sitting up panting holding his chest not yet noticing the tears rolling down his cheeks. He never in his darkest thoughts thought the terrors of night would bring his departed friend into them. Seeing her face unmarred by her horrid death hurt so much worse than the dead touching him as they always did. His throat burned yet again and all he could do was stare off into space trying to force it all back down. Not yet realizing his roommates were in the room with him around his bed.
House #8, Back yard, mid afternoon.
Thorfinn never got back to sleep that morning. Instead he worked on getting soap made and stretching the useless pelts to be rawhide. The cellar had lots of his little projects littering it. The cellar had mostly become where Thorfinn worked so he wouldn't leave a mess or blood around the house. Today he wasn't down in the cellar but in the back yard splitting logs into firewood. He was gaining well defined sleeplines on his face. He knew a day would come where he would just sleep through a day no matter how bad the nightmares were. He had no time for that right now, he was very busy. Or at least he always said. His hair was twisted up funny with two smoothed bits of branch holding it in place. He didnt take the time to braid it today and had yet to consider making a leather band out of one of his many collected pelts.
Each strike of the axe if loud when he brings it down, putting his strength into it so he doesn't have to swing twice. Despite the elder master warning him before that doing so would tire him out faster, that was what he was doing. When each was cut he pushed it off the stump and moved to the next. With the snow coming down he should have been wearing his coat, but he had tossed it on the porch when he got started. The snow he found better and easier to deal with. He felt more at home with the snow despite the biting cold. At least he was used to it, and no longer sleeping in a pile of hay in this kind of weather.
The Village
Thorfinn almost always kept himself busy but his body was growing tired of the constant running despite his will to keep going. After dragging some lumber home and scavenging for more herbs, which filled his bag on his shoulder he made his way back to the village. It was nearly dark as he made his way through the streets. His hands shoved into the jacket pockets of the strange coat he had taken to wearing since he still had not taken the pelts to be stitched by one of the women yet. His hair was down to protect his ears as he walked.
He knew that people were growing worried with the animal deaths and even Jess had agreed no one should be out at dark alone, Thorfinn didn't care. He refused to be frightened even when he knew there was danger. He walked alone as he always had. Tromping through the freshly falling snow.
( House 8:closed for Jo and Kol )
