Posts by dror

☼ The stench of burning hit his nose; it smelled like a barbecue gone horribly wrong, and for a moment, sitting up, alarmed, upon the front entrance of the mansion overlooking the gardens, Dror feared the mansion had caught fire. Then, in the corner of his eye, he spotted them. A group of various creatures, walking about the grounds, clustering about Soap. What was that in his mouth? The jaguar squinted through a pair of confused pink eyes, hindered by his poor eyesight, before he caught sight of it. He let out a long exhale, settling back down on to his stomach, his body relaxing. A cigar, not the imminent demise of the Sanctum's home base. How had he gotten his hands on that thing?

☼ A coronation? Fancy attire, a banquet, shining jewelry flashed in a slideshow over Dror's eyes as the jaguar sat among the group, listening to the description of the event in blissful silence. The temptation was great enough to trump Dror's dislike of crowds and the "mingling" that this creature spoke of. He would be there in a heartbeat. He was unaware of the rapid succession of leaders in Westeros, and accepted the revelation without surprise.

☼ Dror woke with a start to the screaming, and, having a bit of sense, remained paralyzed in his bed. It was coming from the gardens. His sinews tightened, claws slowly unsheathing, as he listened to the eerie sound, his poor eyesight useless in the dark but not daring to summon a light, for fear that it would be seen from the window and whatever was out there would come for him. He sure as hell wasn't going to investigate, and was to remain where he was, frozen in fear until morning, unmoving even when the screaming stopped.

☼ Dror was a sucker for fancy events. He considered the glistening jewels, the regal posture, the polite tones of diplomatic talk to be heaven: after all, he got to strut around, placing a delicately-crafted (after all, he was the seamster of the nine blessings) mask over the lowly Sanctum acolyte. For a few hours, he was royalty, gliding easily about a court of his own imagination.

One issue for him, however, was the social part of such events. He was never one for slipping with seamless chatter into the gentle rhythm of conversation; it was somewhat painful, in fact. The boredom of it all. How are you where are you from my name is Dror, nice to meet you, dear. This left him relatively isolated at mixers, marooned by the food and drinks, staring at his paws as if the tufts of fur around his claws were the most interesting thing he had seen in months. This is what had happened now: the albino jaguar, underneath the shade of the awnings to avoid sunburns, somewhat zoned out but still bitterly aware of his situation.

☼ Westeros. The land of Everyone Has a Funky Last Name. Then again, maybe such titles were useful for keeping track of everyone. Who knows. Dror approached without a word to stand beside Araceli, his pink gaze darting about the Westeros ambassador's features momentarily before sliding to the gifts, inhaling the delicious aroma of food and herbs.

☼ Dror, not exactly feeling bound to the Sanctum in his short time there thus far, occasionally packed a small bag of supplies and wandered off into the wilderness, usually the loner lands. It would take him a day or so to find his way back, but the journey was calming and instilled in him a sense of peace. Sometimes, he would meet others, likely never seeing them again but nonetheless enjoying greatly the brief adventures they took part in together. Today, he was searching for a specific someone. Effervescence had told him that Aleksei had wandered off to join BloodClan; a decision that seemed rather questionable, given his brother's mild temperament. Plus, what ugly scenery. It must be torturous to have a black pelt in such burning heat.

Obviously, not as torturous as being albino. He had selected a group based on how much opportunity it offered to escape from sunburns. It was awfully difficult to manipulate the sun, and drained his energy quite a bit, but as he waited on the sandy border, he did it without a second thought. Aleksei, please tell me there's some shade where you live.

aleksei.  

☼ "Yes, ma'am. She was just standing there, stopped in her tracks. I dunno what happened, but she was obviously seein' some freaky stuff."

Dror rolled out from his hiding place beneath one of the ancient trees that lined the border, his white body curled up beneath the tangled roots, to gaze worriedly at Jelloshots. The wolf-lion hybrid was frozen in place, staring with a good degree of fear at something that the jaguar could not detect. He shifted a little in an attempt to get a better view, pink eyes darting from her to the empty space she was looking at. He cast out a small wave of light toward the invisible thing, lighting up the area beneath the shaded trees momentarily, before it quickly disappeared and allowed everything to fade back to dark, but not catching even the slightest outline of what it was.

The jaguar focused his gaze on Jelloshots, wrinkling his brow and squinting. Was she hallucinating? "Are you okay?"