OUTSIDE SIVERRA...
Mishel sat outside of her Riverside shack out on the small balcony, her legs pulled up on top of one another. She sat with a fishing pole in her hand, rope line from the balcony indicated that she had set traps for the smaller crustaceans. The sound of the trees rustling in the wind was met only by the sound of the water rushing by as it came down from the mountains. A small dirt path made from the many travels of one teenager going to and from the main road. Hoofprints of the local beasts could barely be seen. Birds flew overhead and it felt as if everything was at peace here, everything had its place, the only true difference between here and the Bastion. The Ysalamir which made it so those with the force were nullified and in a way - that was perhaps for the best considering what lay not so far away beyond the Rapachi Mountains.
Cropping out from the banks of the river was the shack itself, easily seen as smoke rose from the open roof. And while a small path led to the shack itself, it looked as if someone made a bridge but then slammed it away. Parts of it were adrift in the river, and other parts were used to make a small hatchery for when the river ran too slow. In the very front of the shack looked to be the beginnings of a small smoke house. Or smoke stall as it were, huddled together with mud bricks, sticks and other building materials from the land. You could almost smell the meat's flavor as it cured within the mudhut. A wooden patio welcomed you to the shack where Nialan Mead barrels marked, "Dreddig Haus Brewery," were stacked. Mishel said nothing and spoke to no one here, it was a place of solitude, and as she sat with her fishing pole, hair slung back around one shoulder. Her eyes seemed so far away as if she were lost in a distant memory and maybe she was for Skor had taught her a lot and it also confused her. Ever since Mustafar, the young girl had never been quite the same and the once curious personality had been diminished, but then death has a way of teaching you, she supposed. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she did not hear the older teenager who approached, nor did she even see her.
[member="Samka Derith"]
Mishel sat outside of her Riverside shack out on the small balcony, her legs pulled up on top of one another. She sat with a fishing pole in her hand, rope line from the balcony indicated that she had set traps for the smaller crustaceans. The sound of the trees rustling in the wind was met only by the sound of the water rushing by as it came down from the mountains. A small dirt path made from the many travels of one teenager going to and from the main road. Hoofprints of the local beasts could barely be seen. Birds flew overhead and it felt as if everything was at peace here, everything had its place, the only true difference between here and the Bastion. The Ysalamir which made it so those with the force were nullified and in a way - that was perhaps for the best considering what lay not so far away beyond the Rapachi Mountains.
Cropping out from the banks of the river was the shack itself, easily seen as smoke rose from the open roof. And while a small path led to the shack itself, it looked as if someone made a bridge but then slammed it away. Parts of it were adrift in the river, and other parts were used to make a small hatchery for when the river ran too slow. In the very front of the shack looked to be the beginnings of a small smoke house. Or smoke stall as it were, huddled together with mud bricks, sticks and other building materials from the land. You could almost smell the meat's flavor as it cured within the mudhut. A wooden patio welcomed you to the shack where Nialan Mead barrels marked, "Dreddig Haus Brewery," were stacked. Mishel said nothing and spoke to no one here, it was a place of solitude, and as she sat with her fishing pole, hair slung back around one shoulder. Her eyes seemed so far away as if she were lost in a distant memory and maybe she was for Skor had taught her a lot and it also confused her. Ever since Mustafar, the young girl had never been quite the same and the once curious personality had been diminished, but then death has a way of teaching you, she supposed. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she did not hear the older teenager who approached, nor did she even see her.
[member="Samka Derith"]