S c u l l y ➶ A r c h e r It'd taken quite a while for him to do so, but Scully had finally taken the time to bathe. His thick, wiry fur had reached a threshold of dirt-ridden that even he found aversive, and for once he found the soak to be quite relaxing. It was like he could breathe more freely here, enjoy each moment more thoroughly. Maybe it was just because him and Avella were back to adventuring, only the two of them like it should be (Clouse didn't count; he was more like a really interactive chew toy), but he couldn't help but feel that there was simply more promise here. Something on the horizon, even. After all, there had to be more than what he'd found so far behind him in Relic Lore; life couldn't be that insufferably boring, right? The sun rise was nearing it's finale, throwing up a final array of pinks and yellows before the star was fully revealed. It would be time to head to bed for him soon, and begrudgingly he pulled himself from the water. Shaking his coat out rattled the cattails around him, sending creatures much smaller than him bounding and skittering away. Nearly every animal was just starting their day or bustling home to sleep, creating a lively environment and awakening his predatory instincts as his stomach churned. He needed to eat soon; at least it would help keep him awake. Scully wasn't quite ready to turn in, and still soaking in the chilled air he began the prowl for a distraction, preferably one involving food but he would take what came his way. Word Count: 267, for Cyrill only.

It would seem, then, that his entertainment for the day would find its way to him. Cyrill is not at all a creature of subtleties or quiet natures, and he makes his way onto the scene while following the border of the winding river, a scowl drawn across his face. His eyes are scanning the water, even as he weaves through the cattails with a surprising grace....and confidence. He does not stop, is not cowed even by the threat of larger creatures that may be watching from the distance. The sharpness of his gaze pinpoints a singular thing beneath the surface of the water, and he shamelessly delves in with a loud SPLASH--perhaps louder than the action requires, but bombast is something as second nature to him as breathing. It is not fish he seeks, but the seaweed within, some sort of underwater greenery that is slippery and wet and difficult to grasp. And yet, he is ever so determined to pull it free, for these strange bits of freshwater weeds and reeds are a vital ingredient in several poultices and antibiotics.



He perchances to lift his head from the water to breathe in, greedily swallowing another lungful of air as he prepares to dive back down again when the water-logged form of the other moves in his peripherals and his attention snaps away, his ears flattened so sharp against his skull that he could have appeared as sleek as a sea-wolf. ...Or otter. Well, it just seemed that hoping for a day of solitude wasn't going to be in his stars. What the hell ever. "You there." he barks, his voice just as sharp as the glint of his teeth,"Make yourself useful if you're going to be in the vicinity for a while. Do you know what Lavender looks like?" A valid question, as he doesn't trust the observational skills of the common masses.

S c u l l y ➶ A r c h e r The sound of the splash caused his ears to twist, but Scully was ready to dismiss the sound as fish or water fowl, neither very appetizing to him. It was the sharp words that turned his head and stopped him from walking further. Silver eyes locked onto a form that absolutely did not match the ice in the other's voice, and his interest only grew as the water-logged wolf, with occasional strands of the weeds he was fishing for entwined with his gossamer fur, continued to bark. Scully began to approach, a wry smile winding its way across his dark lips. "Yeah, I do," he answered. Scully was fairly familiar with a lot of the more common flora thanks to those he'd spent the last year with, and he certainly understood how vital autumn harvest could be to those who utilized the yield. But of course, he did not immediately bustle off to do as bidded. The young man was never so selfless and helpful. "What'll my compensation be? Surely all that charm isn't expected to get you far," Scully teased lightly, testing the nature of this stranger. Word Count: 188