(Open Thread)
Wolf loosed curses under his breath, carried on the cold night wind.
It had been two months since he'd stepped foot into the markets, only to find them neglected. Three hours after his arrival and finding the guards deep in their cups at a local tavern, they were rudely sobered and at their posts looking alert for the first time in nearly a year.
The stalls had been overlooked as well with their care. Snow and freezing temperatures had ruined some brightly colored canopies until they hung limply as if they were torn masts on an old, abandoned ship. A few new-hires, glad for their job in times when farming was nill and waylaid until spring, scurried to seeing to repairs demanded by the merchant lord.
Lord, they called him and it's what he was. But damned be all of them who were responsible and had let the market fall into such a state. A few nearby shops looked barely better, with the exception of a couple that had new coats of pain and their rooves showed new shingles.
Wolf stood there gruff for all appearances. Whiskers at his hollowed jowls were swiped at by gloved fingers and tugged at a bit with irritation. Crimson gaze scoured over every detail of the market from the shops, to stalls, to the Forge, and even the fountain. When warmer months came, he would think about having a couple of trees planted for more shade in summer months.
He hauled the heavy cloak of leather and furs about his shoulders. His boots hit the stones, even or not, with certainy. The work at the merchant stalls was overseen when he wasn't stopping to talk with a few of the vendors that had ventured out that night in the harsh cold temperatures..
Wolf loosed curses under his breath, carried on the cold night wind.
It had been two months since he'd stepped foot into the markets, only to find them neglected. Three hours after his arrival and finding the guards deep in their cups at a local tavern, they were rudely sobered and at their posts looking alert for the first time in nearly a year.
The stalls had been overlooked as well with their care. Snow and freezing temperatures had ruined some brightly colored canopies until they hung limply as if they were torn masts on an old, abandoned ship. A few new-hires, glad for their job in times when farming was nill and waylaid until spring, scurried to seeing to repairs demanded by the merchant lord.
Lord, they called him and it's what he was. But damned be all of them who were responsible and had let the market fall into such a state. A few nearby shops looked barely better, with the exception of a couple that had new coats of pain and their rooves showed new shingles.
Wolf stood there gruff for all appearances. Whiskers at his hollowed jowls were swiped at by gloved fingers and tugged at a bit with irritation. Crimson gaze scoured over every detail of the market from the shops, to stalls, to the Forge, and even the fountain. When warmer months came, he would think about having a couple of trees planted for more shade in summer months.
He hauled the heavy cloak of leather and furs about his shoulders. His boots hit the stones, even or not, with certainy. The work at the merchant stalls was overseen when he wasn't stopping to talk with a few of the vendors that had ventured out that night in the harsh cold temperatures..