[center][img]http://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/ccff888e-d2a3-4f6d-a340-d0c5f453075c.png[/img][h1][b][color=2956b2]March 24th, 1823[/color][/b][/h1]
[img]http://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/ccff888e-d2a3-4f6d-a340-d0c5f453075c.png[/img][h1][b][i][color=2956b2]Scotland[/color][/i][/b][/h1][hr][/center]

	[color=2956b2][b][i]Kirkpatrick House:[/i][/b][/color] Thomas stepped in and closed the door behind him. "Hope you are settling in fine," he started to say as he looked around, "Ms. Brennan." A slight smile came to his lips as he spoke her real name. "I'm sure my aunt has given you a list of rules and tasks and orders to follow. I am betting the biggest one is she is the boss." He ran his finger over the fireplace mantle. Rubbing his fingers together he finally looked over to her. "I want you to keep her thinking that. It is what you were hired for."

	Walking over to the window he pulled back the curtain just so with the back of his hand as he looked out over the back lawn. "I need to know who she is talking to, when, what they are saying, anyone else that speaks to you, and anything else. So let's get started." Turing back to her he clamped one hand around his other wrist and eyed her. "Tell me, what do you think of our family Father."

[center][hr][h1][b][i][color=2956b2]England[/color][/i][/b][/h1][hr][/center]

	[color=2956b2][b][i]London:[/i][/b][/color] Things were naughty, ham was good, yet did one really want to eat naughty food? It was all what they could think but those that were new knew what those that were old didn't. It was really cold, trails were cold. So old it was cold. but it would be hot, hot once again. Travel routes not traveled by the traveling in so very long. A shake of the head and a flick of the wrist, travel routes of of Europe were one of things he knew best. 

	[color=fdc68a]"We go, no red, we go to green. Minty green, better green, northern green. Nothing naughty, all good, not mad, quicker we move the less sad.[/color]" Apparently the man was better in his own mind than speaking to the public but his mind was a wonderland and he went down the rabbit hole, did he ever climb out? Climbing meant dirt, dirty dirty under the nails and in the hair, brown and black and red, no we wanted green. [color=fdc68a]"Bristol!"[/color] he exclaimed. That was a bit out of the way wasn't it?

	[color=2956b2][b][i]The Sea:[/i][/b][/color] Sailing sailing over the ocean blue. Wait, sorry, still on Ludwig mind. Okay, back on track. The ship is out to sea, the hair on the back of your neck is standing on end and on your arm as well. The small crew is on high alert but nothing can be seen as of yet then again if a Cargast was about to attack, it could be hard to be seen. If ever. And if it did, did it travel across the water or was it on the ship when they left the docks. 

	All these things were good questions. Yet could they be answered right then? It would be hard to think right then because even as static broke through the air the temperature started to drop and frost began to form along the railings of the ship, it dropped quick enough to even capture the moisture in the cloth of the sails and become heavier, causing them to sag instead of catching the wind when it died down a bit. 

	[color=2956b2][b][i]The Road North:[/i][/b][/color] The road is long and once they were out of town things seemed to be going alright. It was quiet as they traveled north, going as quickly as they could. What happened next was a blur as the world seemed to freeze around them, slowing actions or in this case reactions down. One could only seem to watch as the events unfolded. 

	And unfold they did as Myska was struck out of nowhere. Red pouring out over the white fur. Something came at them in a blur, and the sound of a shriek echoed through the air as the tiger dropped to the ground dead. Light flashed and darkness settled, it causing a strobging effect. Another shriek broke out and this time it was different. Suddenly it was all over and all felt normal again. That was accept for the fact that Myska was dead on the ground and Elizaveta was in the air again. Instead of being still this time though she was a good fifty years ahead of them and moving away quickly. Flakes of skin seemed to trail from around her, falling like snow as she was being whisked away.