Rot Gut Whiskey's Gonna Ease My Mind

He needed a break. He needed to get the fuck out of dodge and give himself a chance to clear his head. This called for a trip to the north. Maybe with some peace and quiet he could get the ringing in his ears to stop and his thoughts to simmer down. They piled up in the back of his head, oozing out into his thoughts despite his effort to keep them in. It was a long journey and thus far had not offered him the peace he sought. Tarnish was still painfully thin but he'd had enough of sitting in his treehouse waiting to heal. He'd made it this far, he'd make it the rest of the way.

Tarnish arrived at the north, greeted by the crisp air of winter, snow piled up to his knees. It felt marvelous up here. As he walked he arrived at a strange wall of stone. Sparing no time in exploring he leapt up onto it and started walking along its top heading east. It was then the fates seemed to smile on him for the tantalizing smell of decaying meat caught his nose. It was subtle and sweet up here, kept slow by the cooler temperatures. He padding further along the wall til he found a seal carcass being picked at by a half a dozen ravens. Score!

Tarnish leapt down to the carcass and scattered the ravens as he started burrowing in, wolfing down large chunks of meat. The ribcage was particularly fascinating as were the bones that made the flippers. All was well… until a pair of coyotes approached. His ears flicked back and he snarled, hackles raised. "Oh, fuck off!"

Absinth reveled in the crisp air, her breath misting before her as she navigated the maze of snow-laden ruins. The Wall was a usual haunt for her and her flock, an expanse she was tasked with patrolling regularly even with her new brood sleeping peacefully back at home. As she ventured deeper, her sharp eyes caught sight of a commotion near the stone wall. Her curiosity piqued, she slunk closer, her movements graceful and silent. There, near a seal carcass, a dark brute of a wolf was attempting to spook off some of her beloved ravens. Annoyance flickered in her eyes at the intruder’s audacity.

Before she could intervene, two coyotes emerged from the underbrush, their eyes gleaming with opportunistic hunger. The dark wolf cursed at them, his frustration evident.

A sly smile curved Absinth's lips. She enjoyed watching others struggle, especially when it involved those who disrupted her lovely birds. This scene promised to be quite entertaining. But she was itching for action, being cooped up for too long had a way of doing that to you, so she did as she always had.

“Having trouble, are we?” Absinth's voice rang out, playful and taunting. She stepped forward, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she surveyed the scene.

wormwood