Familial Bonds [M]
06-19-2016, 07:00 PM
(This post was last modified: 07-27-2016, 06:11 PM by Vittore.)
A no less startling cold, yet beautiful land. This one, fortunately, was a bit more hospitable than the frigid lands of the tundra by Cathedral Point; this, at least, had prey and life in it. There... the only life there had been him and the Lady Ootat, it seemed. Still, the mafioso did not regret going there; it was oddly peaceful, and the lady had been a welcome presence. Still, though, they parted ways; he had no interest in women. True, there was the allure of laying with one, but... he was not one who would go after an easy woman, nor a broken one. It was simply not respectable.
He sighed, taking his mind off of those thoughts. as it was wont to do lately, it drifted towards his blood brother, Basileus. Was the man alright? Did he find his prey - Vittore did not think of who the prey was - and eliminate the target, or was he himself destroyed in his mission? Or was he, like Vittore, simply wandering, at a loss of what to do with his life? Who knew, really. There was the chance he'd never see Basileus - or any of the cosca - ever again. That, in itself, was a saddening thought.
Perhaps wa even more saddening was his acknowledgement that that may end up being the case, the calm acceptance that was starting to flow through his mind. Regardless of what happened, though, he wasn't going to let it sour the beauty in these lands... and the bizarre features of it, as well. In this case... trees poking through ice. The tops of trees. And the bottom of the trees - and everything else - was incased in ice... and still green. How had that happened? It picqued the mafioso's curiosity, and he peered at one of the many branches, sticking his nose in between.
Bad decision. Immediately, cold stung his nostrils, and he pulled back, sneezing violently. Nope. Sneeze. Nope. Sneeze. He was sneeze not doing that again sneeze. Sticking his nose in an ice covered tree was not smart. Snorting, he sat his rump down on the ice, rubbing at his nose. Agh, why'd he do that?
He sighed, taking his mind off of those thoughts. as it was wont to do lately, it drifted towards his blood brother, Basileus. Was the man alright? Did he find his prey - Vittore did not think of who the prey was - and eliminate the target, or was he himself destroyed in his mission? Or was he, like Vittore, simply wandering, at a loss of what to do with his life? Who knew, really. There was the chance he'd never see Basileus - or any of the cosca - ever again. That, in itself, was a saddening thought.
Perhaps wa even more saddening was his acknowledgement that that may end up being the case, the calm acceptance that was starting to flow through his mind. Regardless of what happened, though, he wasn't going to let it sour the beauty in these lands... and the bizarre features of it, as well. In this case... trees poking through ice. The tops of trees. And the bottom of the trees - and everything else - was incased in ice... and still green. How had that happened? It picqued the mafioso's curiosity, and he peered at one of the many branches, sticking his nose in between.
Bad decision. Immediately, cold stung his nostrils, and he pulled back, sneezing violently. Nope. Sneeze. Nope. Sneeze. He was sneeze not doing that again sneeze. Sticking his nose in an ice covered tree was not smart. Snorting, he sat his rump down on the ice, rubbing at his nose. Agh, why'd he do that?
"Speech" Italiano