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[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify; line-height: 110%;"]He did not like this. He did not have high hopes for this. But nevertheless, Osirus knew this was the group that would likely be the most welcoming, and Osirus needed welcoming. He did not like standing before a group of people who did not know him, asking for their kindness, asking for their judgement, baring himself to their decision verdict.
He felt nauseous.
Howler, however, seemed eager as she trotted ahead of him, nose to the ground as the collie seemed to catch the scent of the plentiful local wildlife. Her tail hovered high, ears forward in excitement. At least one of them was happy about this.
He nudged his backpack upon his shoulders, one hand locked onto the strap, the other holding onto his thick jacket he had shed upon nearing their warmer climate. The fields rolled with greenery, and he could hear the distant calling of a cow or two. It was pretty here. Osirus didn’t get to see many pretty views, as he had spent majority of his time scavenging in the cities, only to learn the cities were nothing but dangerous. He had hoped the countryside would promise more safety. Osirus was tired of fighting tired of death.
”Hello,” He called, towards a figure that neared him, nodding his head in greeting. ”Is this Wren’s Sanctuary?” Sure looked the part, from what he had heard.
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[table] | —❝ SLATER ZYREK ,❞
slater had been tending to a few sheep, and rose to his feet upon seeing a silhouette he did not recognize. the man may have been hit upside the head quite a few times in his few years of living away from the orphanage, but he knew someone when he saw them. just their name wouldn't come to mind.
so it was a shock to him to see a new face, and he looked around for a moment for either josiah or faustus. upon seeing neither, slater took it upon himself to greet the man. even if he wasn't all that unpleasant at first. he tilted his head forward just slightly towards the newcomer, studying his striking appearance. and rather, rather tall build.
slater was tall as well, but ridge stood a few inches higher, and it showed. "yea, it is." he stated, bluntly, upon the question. "who's askin'?"
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TIMOTHY'S DEAD CHARACTERS
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[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify; line-height: 110%;"]Faustus had been making his rounds around the territory, checking up on his group mates as well as checking for any strange sights near the borders. He first noticed Slater from a distance, rising to his feet near the sheep, and making his way towards a newcomer.
Faustus neared the two, examining the man carefully to check for any obvious ill intent or threats. He seemed stiff, but nothing more. He dipped his head slightly in greeting, coming up to a stop beside Slater, who he greeted with a brief touch to his shoulder to let him know he was there as well.
”Welcome,” He stated after Slater. ”How can we help you?” A little warmer than the other’s words, familiar with his often times standoffish behavior, but knew him to be more than such. Faustus and Slater were not necessarily close, and Faustus did want to change that, but he was familiar enough with the worn man to know he held a lightheartedness in him as well. You just had to pay attention.
Returning his thoughts to the newcomer, he hoped the man would join. Though he seemed similar to Slater’s disposition so far, he was large and well built, and Faustus hoped he could contribute to the group’s heavy workload with the harvesting and livestock, as well as the protection of the group itself.
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[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify; line-height: 110%;"]Osirus studied the man who approached first, almost as large as he, and with visible scarring all along his hands, face, and neck. Osirus had to wonder if they continued around his build, curious as to what misfortune had enveloped the other. His own scars seemed minor to this man’s.
”Osirus,” He responded to him upon hearing his inquiry. The stranger seemed cold, almost colder than he. He was used to cold.
His dark gaze shifted to the next man, older and warmer. Already this place seemed to peak Osirus’ curiosity. What other opposite pairs seemed to reside here? He had already seen a cow with a heart on it’s head, and a mare with cross on her rear. ”I’m looking to join... I’ve been nomadic for a while now. Think ‘m through with it.” A modest way to mask Osirus’ deep seated hope for this place to work out. He had not had a home since he was 15. He prayed he could find one here.
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[table] | —❝ SLATER ZYREK ,❞
feeling the hand on his shoulder, slater's head jerked around to glance at faustus for a moment before he relaxed, his shoulders visibly dropping as he sighed through his lips. he glanced at osirus for a moment, then turned his attention away. his eyes studied the field at his side, watching one of the sheep he was tending to lumber down the pasture by the fence. the big man turned his attention back towards osirus when he heard the man speak.
osirus. that was a nice name, slater thought, and glanced between him and faustus. "'m slater," he spoke, voice quiet and nearly distant. with the older man at his side, he found no reason to be unapproachable. somewhat.
he would still be rather displeased if the new comer tried to get close. maybe. he was not used to having a friend that he could rely on, and although faustus and josiah were on good terms with him, he did not fully consider them friends. acquaintances, maybe. definitely not rivals, and as far as slater knew, neither brother held knives behind their backs as they held out helping hands.
and that was good, slater thought again, because he'd rather leave that betraying warmth behind.
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TIMOTHY'S DEAD CHARACTERS
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