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Witches Brew

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About Witches Brew

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  • Birthday 03/27/1998

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    In the woods somewhere
  • Interests
    Reading, writing, anime, drawing, painting, Marvel, Game of Thrones, and Witchcraft
  • Occupation
    College Student

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  1. Myth giggled, and she shook her head as he motioned to the pile of manure. “That’s not what I meant, and you know that.” She shifted Tamlen in her arms, so that he was now lying flat on his back, his paws sticking straight up in the air. His tail wagged vigorously, smacking Myth’s arm with a hard twack. He then spoke of what she’s had truly been asking about, the home just behind him. Apparently there had been some issues whilst building it, and she could only guess that he was being anal about the actual construction of house, and she wouldn’t have expected anything less from him. He then finally noticed Tamlen, who was currently stretching his neck out to sniff the newcomer, but once he caught whiff of the strong stench coming from the half-Orc, he sneezed, and wiggles out of his mothers arms, landing on the ground with a thud. He was by no means graceful, but he got to his paws, and shook the dirt from his fur, and bounded over to where Dorian and Black Philip were still nervously eyeing eachother after being reprimanded. Myth giggles again, and she dusts some puppy fur from her tunic. “That’s Tamlen, my Uncle gifted him to me. He’ll grow up to be a proper Dundeaic Wolf Hound.” She said, and she watched as Tamlen approached Black Philip, and stuck his nose right in the Springjack’s thick dark fluff. Surely Philip wouldn’t harm the pup, would he? Dorian watched over Tamlen with a careful stare, making sure the creature wouldn’t try anything stupid. Myth nodded, she was sure all the animals would be the best of friends, though Dorian was still adjusting to not being an only child anymore. She turned her full attention back to Zan, and she nodded excitedly. “Of course!” She said, and she followed him through their front door, which was large enough for even Dorian to fit through. When she entered, she could see why it had taken longer than anticipated. The front archway was rounded, with sloping walls and ceilings, and the walls were covered with hanging plants from her cart. The front entrance led to a kitchen and a small dining area, complete with counters and a stove, just like in Ioreth’s cabin. There was a small table with two chairs sat opposite of each other, and a large window big enough for Dorian to poke her head through without banging on her antlers. “Wow...” Myth gasped, taking it all in. She spun slowly, looking at each detail Zan had managed to fit in this house. Off the kitchen there was a small sitting room, and just down the hall from that were two bedrooms, and a bathroom. “This is incredible. This is ours?” A home. She couldn’t believe she had a home of her own. Not her cousin’s, not some cave near a stream, an actual home to call her own. She hasn’t had one since her parents died.
  2. Zan has been away a lot recently, and when she asked him about it, he wouldn't say what for. It had been weeks now, and just yesterday, he had told her to meet him at the clearing in the woods just on the edge of Coth. He had told her to avoid that area of town, and when she asked why, he would just shoot her little puppy dog eyes, and she'd melt immediately and agree. She even asked Dale to see what her mate was up too, and he wouldn't spill either. It was slightly irritating. With Myth's move out date coming closer and closer, it was harder for her to stay happy. Ioreth was right in wanting her to be independent, but it was still sad that she would have to leave the comfort and familiarity of her cousin's small cabin. Her bags were already packed and loaded into the little cart she had brought with her into town, and Dorian was getting restless. Currently, Myth was standing outside, looking at the cabin door with Tamlen sleeping in her arms. The puppy made Ioreth restless, and he had already tore up one of Ioreth's clunky throws, and had eaten the stuffing out of one of her pillows she kept on the couch. If there was one thing Ioreth wasn't going to miss, it was certainly Tamlen. When Myth had told Zanzarog about what Ioreth had said that night, he had told her not to worry about not having a place to live. She still worried however, as he himself stayed at the Laughing Springjack most nights. She clutched Tamlen close to her chest as she took one last look at Ioreth's cabin, and she sighed, and buried her face in the pup's dense fluff. "It's alright guys, this is just one more step on our journey, and we're gonna be alright." Myth said, mostly to herself, though Dorian shook her head, getting antsy. It had been a while since she had to pull the cart, and she was ready to get this stuff off her back. She stared at the bundle of fluff in her arms, but Tamlen however, remained unbothered, and snored in his mother's arms. Zan had not yet met Tamlen, for he was busy with... whatever he was doing. Myth wore a long beige tunic that split at the thighs, and touched her shins. It was much too large for her small frame, and the sleeves drowned her arms. She wore dark green leggings underneath, and she wore her hair up in a messy bun, with her stubborn bangs still hung in her face. Leather wrapped around her ankles, and under her feet, creating some sort of footwrap, without them actually being considered shoes. She wanted to delay this moment, but it was time to go. She clicked her tongue against the teeth, and gestured for Dorian to follow, and they set off, leaving Ioreth's land. It wasn't a long walk to where Zan wanted them to meet at, about fifteen minutes from the cabin. Tamlen woke up at some point in between the distance from here to there, and Myth placed him on the ground. The wily pup nipped at Dorian's legs, and Myth feared that her beloved elk would kick the poor thing, and send him rolling down the hill. However, Dorian just ignored him for the most part, snorting and gently nudging him away from her with her antlers when he got too much to handle. When he grew tired of messing with Dorian, he returned to Myth's side, walking inbetween her legs, sometimes tripping over his large paws. Soon, she saw something. It wasn't large, but it wasn't small. It was the perfect size for them. It was a cabin, just hidden in the trees, and outside of it, she could see her mate, and his Springjack, Black Philip, or as she called him, Phil. As she grew closer, the Springjack alerted him of her presence, and Myth bent down to scoop Tamlen back into her arms, she didn't want the puppy near the Springjack, he'd gore the baby on sight most likely. Zan called out to her, waving his arms, and she smiled, waving back at him. She finally met up with him, and she took a step back. He smelled, so very badly, and she didn't want to acknowledge it. "Zan, what is this? Is this what you've been working on?" She asked him, as Dorian stood her ground in front of the Springjack, not backing down from the black creature. Her stark white fur was the opposite of his pitch black fur, and the two seemed to be having some sort of standoff. Tamlen however, just wiggled in Myth's arms, his tiny tongue licking her chin and neck, his paws wrapped around her neck.
  3. She hasn't seen her Uncle since she was very little, she had to crane her neck all the way back to even look up to him. He was always so massive in her memory, and even now he towered over her, with the same air of elegance and authority he had all those years ago. It was so intimidating, the aura around her Uncle. It was a reason why she didn't approach right away, another being that she knew her Uncle's power, and she didn't really believe he was here. It could all be an illusion, coming to see if the rumors were true. However, if she knew her Uncle, there was no way he'd project himself with a puppy. Her Uncle cared not for animal companions. He started to speak to her, but the puppy, clearly unhappy about it's predicament, started to cry. As it cried, she could sense the annoyance radiating off her Uncle, and the lights in the small cabin began to dim, and all the man seemed to swallow the light, and grow within the darkness. The pup was startled, sure, but so was Myth. As the pup dove between her legs, she bent down and scooped the furry mass into her arms, trying to comfort it as the room and her Uncle returned to normal. The pup quieted in her arms, and she held the pup close to her breast, feeling it's warm breath on her neck as it nuzzled closer to her. She always had an affinity for animals, they seemed to like her, and she liked them also, they were much easier to talk to than people were. Her Uncle then disclosed that Ioreth had spoken to him, and told him everything about her, and her life in Coth. He also revealed why the puppy was here in the first place. It was for her. Oh Ioreth wasn't going to be too happy about a puppy staying inside the cabin, she already booted Dorian outside, but there was no way Myth was going to kick the puppy outside also. It was so small, and so cute! It made Myth's heart melt just looking at it. She nuzzled the puppy, already feeling so much love for it. She's only had the puppy for five minutes, and if anyone tried to hurt it, she'd kill them. She'd kill them slowly. After giving her a moment to bond with her newest best friend, her uncle beckoned her closer, and she placed the puppy on the chair that rested beside the dining table, and she walked to her Uncle, and she stopped, just within arm's reach. He extended his arms, his hands out, but she knew it wasn't a hug he was looking for. He examined her, and he spoke, asking about the men she had killed. How'd he know about that? What stench? "The men I killed? They were some human supremacists, they had my father's knife. Ioreth's uhhh, friend Viscerex, helped me kill them."
  4. "Ignore my garden?! Ignore my gareden?! Oh you beautifully stupid man! You can't ignore the garden, it's on a tight schedule, and it needs to be weeded today!" She said, the elvish rolling off her tongue without even thinking. She huffed, and crossed her arms, expecting her mate to know every word she just said. But then she stiffened. Something was off, and she could sense it. The sound of thundering hooves vibrated the ground. Mythandriel looked over Zan's shoulder, and she saw the familiar dappled grey mare that belonged to Ioreth. She had come back from her trip. When the mare stopped beside them, Mythandriel already felt herself sinking into the Half-orc's massive arms, trying to hide herself from Ioreth's disappointed gaze. There it was. Those words she had thought just moments ago were ringing in her ears. This was horrible. She wanted to apologize, but maybe Ioreth wouldn't appreciate her apology right now. It wouldn't be coming from a good place, she needed to think on this, so that it was meaningful. Then Zan spoke in Orchish, and it sounded more aggressive than normal. She glanced at Ioreth, trying to gauge her reaction, and she couldn't tell how she was feeling, she was already so hard to read at times. Zanzarog then brought her inside, and placed in her in her cot, covering her with blankets and furs, and she snuggled in them deeply while staring up at his stupidly handsome face. She felt so much affection for him, even in this tense moment. Then, as Ioreth entered, a shadow monster appeared from her feet, and rose above her cot. It's featureless face stared down at her, before it quickly evaporated under Ioreth's locked door. She would have been scared, if she hadn't already thought that there was indeed a shadow monster living in the locked room. Or any monster really, it was no wonder why Ioreth had that door locked constantly. One time when Ioreth was out, she had tried to open it, and something growled at her. That's when she knew. Then, the tension rose. When Ioreth spoke, her voice was like ice. When she removed the dagger, and offered Zan the hilt, she sat up, her blankets sliding down to her lap. Then she revealed the nature of Zan's orchish. He threatened to cut out her tongue?! She glared at him, almost missing Ioreth's eyes on her. She turned her body to face her cousin, taking in her icy words, flinching as she spoke. Her eyes lowered to her furs, and she clenched her small fists. Ioreth was right. She was acting like an unmarked child. Ioreth was so mature and grown up, and she had gone through all the rites, and had earned all her markings. She however, was a toddler parading in a grown body, who had not gone through the rites, and her face was bare. She had missed out on the important lessons of life, but it was no excuse to keep on acting like a child. When Ioreth called her, her light, she felt even worse. She was right, a true huntress would not have been sideswiped by a bear. She was weak, she was a vulnerability, and that could hurt Ioreth. But before she could speak, she turned her attention back to Zanzarog. Myth too, turned her attention back to the Half-orc that apparently threatened her cousin. "Talk, now." She growled in Orchish. She had been studying, she found some books in Ioreth's room, and with lessons from Zan, she knew some phrases.
  5. As their cheeks rubbed against one another, she purred in complete bliss. He said the words, those words that she hadn't heard in ages. Her father was never afraid to show her his feelings, her mother was a little more controlled, but once they were alone she'd smother Myth with kisses. Ioreth was a whole different beast entirely. One time, Ioreth patted her on the top of her head, and she was just filled the feelings of love and appreciation, and then two minutes later Ioreth left for two weeks to go with Constans on some stupid demon hunting trip. She slid easily into his lap when he pulled her in, and she returned his kisses with eagerness. It was rough, and full of emotion that the two had been holding back. They've only been together for a few weeks, but she felt like she was meant to be with him for her entire life. When he broke the kiss, her cheeks were red, and she caressed his face gently. Her fingertips gently grazing his skin. "I'm glad I have you too." She said softly, and she curled up into his chest. She would kill for him, she'd tear off someone's face for him. She'd ruin other people's gardens for this orc. She adored him.
  6. "Okay, okay okay okay okay." Myth whispered, and she placed her elbow on his opposite shoulder. and she grabbed the back of his head. She then wrapped her other arm around his neck, and grabbed her bicep. She didn't squeeze yet though. She didn't want to hurt him, but she had to learn how to do this correctly. "Okay, I'm going to apply pressure now, and I just want you to know it's not because I'm angry or anything, I just love you very very much, and I'm only trying to do what you told me too." She said, and she took in a deep breath, and she hesitated again. "I really don't want to hurt you." She said, and she took her arms from around his neck, and instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck to hug him. She nuzzled his cheek, and hugged him tightly. "I can't do this, I don't want to hurt you." She said softly, whining. "I just love you so much."
  7. "You said naked." Myth giggled as he turned her around, so that her back was facing him. What he explained made since, choking equals sleepy time, if done correctly. She stood still as he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, his elbow resting on her shoulder. Then, his other arm snaked around her throat, and she felt the squeeze. She gasped, feeling her feet lift from the ground, and she couldn't help but get excited by this. He told her to tap out when she felt the pressure, and it was getting harder to breathe, so she gasped and raised her hand up to tap rapidly on his forearm. When he released her, her cheeks were bright red, and she felt all giddy and warm inside. "That was awesome." She whispered, and she shivered, shaking off all the excitement she felt. "Can we do it again?"
  8. As the sky grew darker, Myth woke to the smell of roasting meat, and she immediately stirred from her slumber. Her hair stuck up in multiple directions, but she quickly tamed it by running her fingers through it. "Is that the bear meat?" She asked, and she climbed out of her cot, and walked into the kitchen, and she poked her head in front of the oven door, to stare at the meat roasting inside it. It wasn't until Ioreth told her to stop that she did, and she left the warm embrace of roasting oven meat. It wouldn't be done for a few more hours, so she had some time to kill before food was ready. So instead, she went to a little wooden box she kept by her cot, and grabbed multiple bundles of dried herbs, and miscellaneous animal parts. She set them down at the dining room table, while she went back into the kitchen to grab her cast iron cauldron. She was very proud of that cauldron, she spent her allowance money on it. She also grabbed Ioreth's mortar and pestle, and sat down at the table, crossing her legs under her as she sat in the chair. She spread out the dried herbs, and started to sort out some good sprigs. "Lavender... rose water...aaaand mint!" She said quietly to herself, and she put the lavender and mint into the mortar, and started to crush the sprigs, and she took the powders and poured them into the cauldron with the rose water. She gave it a quick stir, and pulled out a bag full of coarse white powder. She took out the measuring spoon within the bag, and poured two spoonfills into the mixture. She then took a jar of oil she had made from wheat, and poured about a cup of it into the cauldron. She put the cauldron on the stove, and stirred till it all became a cohesive mixture, then removed it from the heat. "Now to let it cool, and I can give Dorian a bath tomorrow! Ioreth, wanna smell...it..?" She had turned around, but Ioreth was gone. She didn't even hear her leave. Myth stood in the kitchen, holding the cauldron in her hands. She put the cast iron cauldron on the counter, and she sat back down at the table. Alone again, without even a goodbye. She huffed, and started to clean up her mess, putting the dried herbs and random ingredients back into her wooden box. That roast had been in the oven a long time, she figured it was finished. She crept back to the oven, and opened the door, the heat from the fire blasting her in the face. She squeaked, and shut the door. Forget the meat. The oven is hot, Ioreth should be the only one trusted with the oven. Myth stood, and she started to bottle the shampoo mixture she had when she heard the door open. "Ioreth, I finally made some more shampoo, so you can stop complaining about how bad Dorian smells." She said, without turning around. When Ioreth didn't respond, she turned, and nearly dropped the shampoo she had just made. There, where she had assumed Ioreth was, was a tall, gaunt looking man, wearing all black. She would've noticed the puppy if he wasn't so scary looking, and familiar. She stared at him for a few moments before finally speaking. "Uncle Marl? Is that you?" @KittyvonCupcake
  9. Today was the day, after weeks of pestering, Myth finally got her mate to agree to teach her how to fight. She was already skilled with a bow, and she was alright with a knife, but there would be circumstances in which she would have neither, and who better to teach her close combat than an Orc? He was big, and strong, and undoubtedly handsome. Who else was gonna teach her something like this, Constans? Please, that bald man couldn't even take a punch in the face without crumbling to the ground whining. She got up early, excited for the events that were going to take place that day. Zanzarog had told her where to meet him, and it wasn't that far from Ioreth's cabin, so it wouldn't be that far of a walk. She dressed lightly, a dark brown linen dress that flowed, and had thin straps across her shoulders, and a pair of tan leggings that hugged her legs closely. She pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail, except for her bangs, they wouldn't fit in her ponytail, so she just let them fall in her face as normal. She brewed a large pot of bean juice, and she poured the liquid into a large jar for the both of them to share. She was really excited, she was always excited when she got to spend time with Zan, and she was sure he felt the same. She headed out not long after the bean juice was ready, and made her way towards clearing. As she walked, she could feel the grass between her toes, and with each step she felt more and more connected to the Earth and it's energy. Hopefully she'd do well today, and she wouldn't actually end up hurting her mate. She didn't want to hurt him, she'd feel terribly about it if she did. Elves, no matter what subspecies, were not built for hand to hand combat. They were small, and thin. Though quick, they weren't strong or muscly like Orcs were. Elves were more equipped for stealth and far ranged attacks. So this would be something new for the both of them, to see if Myth could even excel in this form of combat. It should be interesting. She saw him sitting in the middle of the clearing, he was quiet, yet he knew she had arrived. She smiled wide and pranced up to him, holding out the jar of bean juice she had so carefully crafted for them not too long ago. "Of course! I wouldn't miss a moment of this!" She said, and she jumped up to kiss his cheek. "Are you ready to teach me how to kill with my bare hands?" She wiggled her eyebrows, and made a strangling motion with her free hand, trying to make light of this serious exercise.
  10. "Why wouldn't I be sure? Uh, becauses Ioreth is scary, and when she's mad she's mean!" Myth said, and she shoved another forkful of pancake into her mouth. "She's gonna yell at you, and at me!" She said, chewing the entire time. She swallowed, and quickly finished her plate, handing to to Zan. She wiggled in her blankets, not used to being so confined, so limited. Zan left her side to go wash the dishes they had dirtied, and she sat, stewing in silence. Sure Ioreth deserved to know what happened, but, what if they didn't tell her? No, that wouldn't work, Dale already said he was going to tell Ioreth, and Zan was set on telling her cousin what had happened. She threw the blankets off, about to stand when her mate crouched back down next to her. "You don't have to carry me, I can walk you know." Myth said. It was true, though she was in pain, Myth could indeed walk on her own. She wanted too, but the Half-orc was determined to make sure he took care of her in every sense. She sighed as she rested safely in his pillowy man muscles, and he headed towards the door. Dale opened the door, with Sabine standing next to him. "You two be careful!" He shouted after them, smiling softly before shutting the door behind him. "Alright Sabine, clean this mess up now." He said, turning back to his breakfast. They were going to be eating pancakes for days. On the way home, every once in a while she could feel Zan's eyes on hers, and he smiled at her. She smiled back too, and she sighed. "You don't have to worry, I'll be fine. Besides, I have to feed Dorian, and weed my herb garden, and and.." She yawned, loudly, covering her mouth with her hand, and she rubbed her eyes. "And I have to make sure that deer is butchered before it rots, and the meat is put in the ice chest out back.." Myth said, obviously tired. She shifted her weight, wincing as she twisted the wrong way. "Ouch.." She hissed, and she continued to get comfortable. "I have too much to do, can't be bothered with trying to rest right now."
  11. Myth indeed knew how much Zan could eat, she once made him breakfast, and made the mistake of not cooking enough, and later on that day she could swear she saw him staring at some of Dorian's treats, as if they would make an appetizing meal. So, the fact that Sabine cooked this much, was a good thing. Myth however, did not eat nearly as much as Zan could. The two pancakes and the egg he put on her plate would be more than enough for her indeed. She felt her heart lift as Zan entered the room with her breakfast plate. Her stomach screamed for something to eat, and those sweet bread cakes looked and smelled really really good. She wrapped her arm around his after he offered it, and she hoisted herself up to a sitting position, wiggling free from Sabine's master level swaddling, so that she could feed herself. Myth kissed his cheek as he placed the food in her lap, and immediately started to dig in. She didn't need the knife, the bread cakes were soft enough that the fork was enough. Pancakes, Sabine had called them. It made sense. It was sweet like a cake, that was fried in a pan. They were delicious and fluffy, and they settled well in her stomach. Then, Zan said he would speak to Ioreth. Her face fell, and she swallowed her recent bite with a little difficulty. Ioreth wasn't going to be happy about this. She definitely wouldn't be happy at the fact that she had bled over Dale's table, or the fact that Dale was put in this position to begin with. Myth was going to be in so much trouble. Why didn't you let Viscerex hunt? You know it's cub season, how could you be so stupid? Do you want to die? Has living in the forest for so long rotted your brain? You're nothing more than a child! When will you ever grow up? She could hear the lecture now. Ioreth was going to be so disappointed in her, and she didn't even want to hear what she would have to say to Zan. She sighed, and looked at Zan, setting her fork down. "Are you really sure that you want to talk to Ioreth? She's...not going to be happy about what happened."
  12. The sky was angry. Large, dark angry stormclouds loomed over Coth, swirling around the Temple. Eleanor stood on the steps, gazing up at the sky. These clouds worried her, but what did they mean? As she stared up at the clouds, she could hear the chatter of Acolytes insides, chattering about the storm that was to come. She felt something churning in her core, something was wrong. Someone in her beloved town was hurting, and these clouds represented that. She could feel the static in the air, and the hairs on her arms were starting to stand up. She walked down the steps of the temple, her bare feet feeling each crack in the stone. She kept her grassy eyes forward, not paying attention to the bustling activity going on behind her. The sky roared, and it felt as if God himself clapped in the Heavens above them all. Eleanor jumped, surprised by the sudden loudness surrounding her. Then, the sky filled with green, and the static in the air heightened, and God clapped once more, and a tendril of God's fire torpedoed down to his Earth. The Lightning struck the ground, mere feet away from where Eleanor herself stood, catching flame to a dead tree, causing it to erupt into a ball of green flame. Enraptured in the beauty of it, Eleanor walked closer to it, knowing it to be a sign. She looked deep into the flames, and she was surprised at what she saw. Inner turmoil, beaten down feelings, stress and fear. The face she saw inside the flames was one she recognized, but wasn't personally acquainted with. Father Constans knew her very well, and he felt a deep love for her. And any love he held for her, she felt as well. The images in the flames disappeared as quick as they had come, and alone she stood yet again. "Mother Eleanor?" A soft voice called out of her. The Priestess turned, and she saw one of her young Acolytes, a girl of about 13, standing at the doorway of the Temple, with a concerned look on her face. Eleanor smiled, and walked back towards the steps. "Avaline, I need you to send for the Lady Ioreth. Tell her that I request her presence her at the Temple for tea, please." The girl looked confused, but did not refuse the Priestess. She grabbed a cloak as the sky clapped again, and rushed off towards the far end of Coth, to go give the Lady Ioreth the Mother's message. Eleanor stood at the front steps for a moment longer after the child had departed, and looked up to the sky once more, before heading inside. Ioreth needed her help, God had told her so through his message, and now she just had to figure out why God had sent her this message. She headed inside, and went to prepare. She changed out of her plain white dress, and ran a comb through her thick, dark hair. She looked at her bare body in the mirror she had in her room, and sighed. She would have to ask Mythandriel for more of that powdered medicine she had been making, her illness was attacking her, and she could see the contour of her ribs against her skin. She ran her fingers against them, and turned away. She dressed quickly, grabbing something warmer, thicker. The dark velvet hugging her frame, but not smothering her. She tied her bangs back, and called for a tea set. The little she knew about the Lady Ioreth, was that she was quite fond of tea. Luckily, they had multiple arrays of teas here at the temple. She settled for an earl grey, rather than something more fruity. She didn't think Lady Ioreth to be a fruity tea kind of woman. While the tea steeped, she rushed to pick up any loose clothes, or any messes her sister had left behind. For a Priestess and a representative of Coth, she and her sister were still messy children who didn't know how to keep a room clean. She shoved clothes under her large bed, kicking them underneath while she frantically made her bed. When her room was satisfyingly clean enough, she sat on the loveseat, waiting for news of the Lady Ioreth's arrival, with the sound of God's thunder rolling in the background. @KittyvonCupcake
  13. Being welcomed by the Shirokawa household was a small delight. It was never a disappointment when they visited here. The Shirokawa were in the fold simply because of that fact; they never disappoint. Her Lady Aunt was very selective on who was allowed to play this game of theirs: who could benefit their family the most? The Skirokawa were a skilled family, and they weren't just Seamstresses, though that may be the word on everyone's lips at the moment. Tsuyu-san was extremely talented, her designs were becoming very popular in the Yanaihara household in particular. As they waited, a tea was prepared for them to enjoy. Haruhi carefully placed the tea cup to her lips and sipped, careful not to make a sound. She held the small cup in both hands, showing every bit of politeness and respect that tea deserved. The blend was simply delicious, the honey soothed her core, while the jasmine and ginger tingled down her throat as it slid down. It was lovely, why wasn't it served at the main estate? She carefully set the cup down, and she bowed her head slightly, smiling. "Thank you very much, Tsuyu-san, it is very kind of you to say so." She placed her hands on her lap, feeling her Aunt's eyes on her, though she did not turn her head. A test. Had she passed it? Tsuyu was eager to serve, perhaps that is why Aunt Asora chose to come here today, but there seemed to be another reason. Trapmaking? Haruhi couldn't help but be interested in the conversation was to come. She picked up her tea cup once again, taking a sip. "I'm also very impressed in the way you dress yourself, Tsuyu-san, perhaps you can help us after all." She sipped again. She wondered how Trapmaking and garments could come together.
  14. To anyone I owe posts too, I will get them up tonight at sometime! 

  15. Dale was impressed with the way Zan acted, he was a proper man. The way he talked about his life with Little Miss, he had it all thought out. “Well, if you want that hide turned, you better tan it quick.” He said with a smile. Then, he heard the breakfast bell, or rather his youngest daughter Sabine. “Well, sounds like food is ready, let’s head in.” He said, and he used a towel to clean his hands, before he tossed it aside, and headed towards his humble house. He dipped his head as Zan held the door, and he entered, seeing the massive pile of food his daughter cooked. “Sabine! Who’s gonna eat all that?” He asked, looking at his daughter. “Well, Zanny’s big, and he’s gonna eat a lot! And you eat a lot! And I can eat some, and uh...” she looked back at the pile. “I made too much.” She huffed, and she looked at her father and smiled wide as he ruffled her hair. “Don’t worry, I’m sure most of it will be eaten. Why don’t you make your plate and go sit down, after breakfast you’ve got chores.” Dale said. “Don’t roll your eyes either, now get.” He said, pushing her forward, and he turned to Zan. “Why don’t you get your plate, and Little Missus’, and then we can get you both headed home?” He said. As much as he loved having the two of them in his home, Myth would heal better in her own environment. Myth was hurting, she was really feeling the extent of her injuries, and she just lay there, in a cocoon of blankets and pillows, her eyes half opened. She wanted to sleep, but she knew good would be coming soon, and she wanted to eat. When she heard Zan’s voice, she smiled, and her stomach growled loudly. “Hungry...” She grumbled.
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