[center][h2]Sanjin, Hunter[/h2] [i]Interacting with: Bobby[@Aerandir], Emiliah[@Ellion], and Andvari[@Fetzen][/i][/center] Seren's Folly smelled weird. Sanjin had decided this the moment his pack step foot into the village. There were the obvious smells associated with towns of course, the distant musk of live stock and the light wafts of baked goods barely overriding the gentle bass note of outhouses and street 'leavings'. But there was another smell. It hung loosely around his nostrils, acrid and unpleasant. Like a wet moldy log on a fire. The older hunters in the pack told him it was the other hunters, though refused to explain further. Frustrating, but understandable. He was old enough that their guidance was not required anymore. If he was confused, he was on his own in regards to finding answers. The pack was here to hunt, all other things were secondary. The bulk of The Pack had come through two months ago, he along with them. They took advantage of the surplus jobs and made a heavy profit before heading south to the warmer climates before winter began to set in. Now only the veteran and novice hunters of their clan remained. The veterans because they were accustomed to the life (a few had even settled here permanently, as insane as an idea as that sounded to him) and the novices because they still wished to prove themselves and were more than strong enough to make the journey on their own later. He entered into the Witch's Paradise quietly, as he always had for the past week or so. The place was nice enough, the food was warm and there were always a hunter group or two forming up during the later hours of the evening. It was a good place to find work, if you could stomach the weak drinking that city folk had. Tonight, the place reeked of the unidentifable smell, and Sanjin had to repress the urge to hold his nose at its sudden intrusion. Taking a moment to adjust he sniffed the air, his perfeered method of finding...well anything really. A few scents caught his attention, the scent of recent travel being one of them. A familiar mix of body odor and dirt, though there was a lot...more of it than normal. He followed it quickly, weaving quietly between patrons until he was staring at the back of a very very large man. He looked...well, desperate for work if Sanjin was any judge of character. Good news for the young Pack hunter. Now that he was closer he could smell someone else, obscured by the larger man both visually and otherwise. It was a lighter scent, like old rope and lavender. "You stink of the road mister!" Sanjin chirped loudly, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet as he introduced himself to a hopeful meal ticket. "If you dont bathe properly the prey will notice you." He added, in the small awkward pause that followed. "....and then you'll die...I'm Sanjin, do you have work?" He added again, too eager for a response to properly wait for one. ((OOC: sanjin smells the tension in the air. Sniffs himself into a conversation. Proceeds to have the charisma of a brick.)) [center][h2]Usoa, Witch[/h2] [i]Interacting with: Alexina[@Aerandir] and a windpipe[/i][/center] Alexina was angry again, Usoa could tell that much. She always called a lot of people to the hall and said a lot of things when she was angry with something or someone. Today though, she seemed especially incensed about...something. Usoa was pretty sure the woman had explained somewhere in that speech but she was also pretty sure she got distracted halfway through by a bug crawling on the floor. She liked Alexina, but listening to her talk like this was exhausting. Made no better that she was required to wear actual pants while not in her private domain. "I hate pants..." She grumbled to herself, one of the witches piping up and questioning Alexina's authority. That was a bad idea. When the Queen of the Forest was angry your best bet was to stay quiet and let her tire herself out. Saying things just made her get worse...or louder depending. A flash of red finally brought Usoa into focus, watching calmly as a handful of ripped flesh squelched to the ground. She willed herself through the crowd (a fairly easy task given the general berth most of the coven gave her) and picked up the discarded piece of throat and finally listening to her Coven leader as she spoke. Ryleth was the first to break the silence after Alexina's question, a welcomed thing in Usoa's eyes. "...we could cut off things from them...?" She suggested quietly, slithering forward. "I mean...I can put those things back on afterwards...but it...ya know...will hurt." She pauses for a moment, the silence telling her she was doing rather well in this conversation. "...'cept if its things like this." She added, lifting up the discarded juggular for all to see. "Can't fix that...I think...oooo. Can I try it?" She asks Alexina, a sudden burst of giddiness exploding in her chest as she played with the skin flap from one hand to another absent mindedly.