Post by Alastair on Dec 29, 2009 3:10:05 GMT
+4th Day+
+Tredecimber+
+22nd Hour+
+Year LV+
.Alastair.
The winter wind clawed its way across the battlements of Elencastel and thick brooding clouds, their bellies fat with unbirthed precipitation, obscured the sliver of a waxing moon from view. In the shadow of a wall crouched the solid figure of an ash grey tom cat, its golden eyes half closed against the stinging wind, ears alert. This was no ordinary tom cat despite all its feline qualities...the muscled creature stood just over two feet high at the shoulder and what could be seen of its bright eyes held an intelligence that was decidedly human.
Alastair, Guardian of Benevolence and current companion of Miss Elizabeth Bell, was on his customary night watch. He had accepted Miss Bell's request for protection during her employment at the manor of one Mr. Rawdon Bray and by default was now responsible for the lives of the aristocrat and Miss Strangeway the gardener as well as Miss Elizabeth. While he did not resent this duty in the least - it was, after all, what he had been born to do - it was difficult to ignore the fact that three lives were harder to defend than simply one. Being the castle cat was an honor and had its perks (all the quiet and solitude he could never find in the village, not to mention the choicest scraps of meat from the kitchen) but it also meant the burly tom got very little in the way of sleep. Tonight, for a change, he was well rested, but the weather conditions certainly made things...less than pleasant.
However, he had been doing his job well and no Gewyn had yet disturbed the castle's peace. Perhaps this was because three humans living within a formidable fortress, with wall too high to jump and too smooth to climb, watched over by a Guardian (never mind that it was only one) simply wasn't worth the trouble to the average Gewyn. Not when they could nab the unsuspecting child who didn't come in for dinner when they were called, or the weary traveler on the road. Cowardly, whining pups they are sometimes. He thought with a snort. So long as Miss Elizabeth was safe. She wasn't the average vapid village girl and for that fact he held a special place for her in his stoic heart. Despite the wind that battered its normally sleek fur and the wicked chill, the feline creature remained still as one of the castle gargoyles, naught but its eyes betraying the presence of a beating heart.
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+Tredecimber+
+22nd Hour+
+Year LV+
.Alastair.
The winter wind clawed its way across the battlements of Elencastel and thick brooding clouds, their bellies fat with unbirthed precipitation, obscured the sliver of a waxing moon from view. In the shadow of a wall crouched the solid figure of an ash grey tom cat, its golden eyes half closed against the stinging wind, ears alert. This was no ordinary tom cat despite all its feline qualities...the muscled creature stood just over two feet high at the shoulder and what could be seen of its bright eyes held an intelligence that was decidedly human.
Alastair, Guardian of Benevolence and current companion of Miss Elizabeth Bell, was on his customary night watch. He had accepted Miss Bell's request for protection during her employment at the manor of one Mr. Rawdon Bray and by default was now responsible for the lives of the aristocrat and Miss Strangeway the gardener as well as Miss Elizabeth. While he did not resent this duty in the least - it was, after all, what he had been born to do - it was difficult to ignore the fact that three lives were harder to defend than simply one. Being the castle cat was an honor and had its perks (all the quiet and solitude he could never find in the village, not to mention the choicest scraps of meat from the kitchen) but it also meant the burly tom got very little in the way of sleep. Tonight, for a change, he was well rested, but the weather conditions certainly made things...less than pleasant.
However, he had been doing his job well and no Gewyn had yet disturbed the castle's peace. Perhaps this was because three humans living within a formidable fortress, with wall too high to jump and too smooth to climb, watched over by a Guardian (never mind that it was only one) simply wasn't worth the trouble to the average Gewyn. Not when they could nab the unsuspecting child who didn't come in for dinner when they were called, or the weary traveler on the road. Cowardly, whining pups they are sometimes. He thought with a snort. So long as Miss Elizabeth was safe. She wasn't the average vapid village girl and for that fact he held a special place for her in his stoic heart. Despite the wind that battered its normally sleek fur and the wicked chill, the feline creature remained still as one of the castle gargoyles, naught but its eyes betraying the presence of a beating heart.
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