ICE ICE BABY [dell]

[Veser Krory]

Jagged paths were fuck and, surprisingly enough, not the good kind of fuck.

They were, in fact, also shit. Shitshitshit. That had to be gotten out of the way first before anything else. Just to clarify. It wasn't as if normal paths were saintly in comparison but, as much as Veser wanted the delight of nearly getting killed for like, what, the sixteenth time that day - which was far above the average - he really just wanted to get to Ivala.
He was all for risks but, fuck, there was a limit that had been passed long ago. The cold practically bit against his face as he looked along the pathway, exasperation crossing his expression for once. It was cold too; another thing that was shit and adding to the list of 'Things that were shit about traveling to furries!'. What sort of people insisted on living somewhere so fucking isolated and freezing?
... That was a question that had brought him there anyway. Fuck being curious.

It was an already bloodied glove that when up to brush the hair out his line of sight; the blood the result of a nosebleed that had either been caused by the high altitude or a careless slip into the fucking ground. Granted he barely even realised it had been bleeding at the time. Fucking numbness; another shit thing. He wasn't used to the cold. He certainly hadn't grown somewhere where people clearly thought it was relevant to their interests to have a death trap as a pathway to their city; humans seemed to have fucking common sense when compared to this. What, he expected clichéd, windy and retarded paths from vampires, not from shifters. He didn't know much about them but, fuck, they were already coming off as utter pricks.

Despite all that, however, he was still going to continue. There had been a moment of rest; that was why he had enough time to think over things like shit and fucking. Y'know. The usual.
Earlier when he had been attempting to walk the path it had been a matter of concentrating on what he was doing to try and live; something he felt he hadn't quite valued before as much as he did at that moment. He hadn't really cared in the beginning; for a while it hadn't been so bad. Parkour helped. He was supposed to able to adapt to all sort of situations like this; the jagged rocks should have been nothing.
He just didn't adapt to fucking freezing as well. Who did? Probably the fucking furries when he thought about it.

Hissing in irritancy, however, he directed his gaze to what was actually before him. Something he didn't want to face but, hell, if he continued staying still any long there was a pretty strong chance of him freezing in that spot. He wasn't going to turn back, fuck, he'd gone all that way and he wanted to know about the city at the end of the path. Even if the particular part before him was fucking narrow and didn't even have edges. Well that he didn't mind that but, it looked...
Slippery, as however retardedly childish it felt to say such.

After all whilst the fur-lined coat was good at keeping him warm trainers were not adequate footwear for snow and ice.
Regardless, issuing a sigh that steamed up the air, stepped forward mostly simply and attempting to regain that sense of nonchalance he had with parkour. Ignore the cold, the jagged paths and all the other shits that had found themselves on the list. Ignore the feeling of numbness spreading in his right hand; he had managed to lose one glove, after all, and that hand was slowly losing his feeling which certainly made it hard to balance as he attempted to get across.
... It wasn't too bad. The normal set of confidence spread across his expression at that and, his grin spreading quickly, he spread his arms out in an almost mocking fashion.
As if it was tightrope walking.
EXTREME TIGHTROPE WALKING!!
That painfully retarded train of thought was oddly calming. The cold was getting to his head.

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[Dell]

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Mountains were not fun times. Even moreso if they were this particular mountain. He didn't care if his race ran amok here; they didn't pay his bills (well, unless he'd managed to 'borrow' something from one of them them), therefore he did not give a flying fuck.

In fact, presently, he'd just been leaving the mountainous city behind, making his way down the paths at all speed. He knew well enough the paths by now, and that a leisurely pace taken within this goddamn cold would send him to dreamland. He never did do well with cold, even if he did decide to actually use his cloak as a cloak instead of tying it around his neck like some sort of gigantic scarf. Indeed, he did find himself quite the trendsetter in that number, though the white chunk of slightly tattered fabric was put to better use keeping him warm at the current time.

Coming across a break in the path, he gave a tremendous leap, shuddering as a sudden cold shock passed from his fingertips through the rest of his body upon contact with the other side. Muttering a bit under his breath about damned plateaus, he remained crouched there, drawing his fingers closer to the source of his body heat near his chest. Just for a moment- he'd stay for a moment to catch his breath, and then he'd start off again. Oh well, at least the rock wasn't trying to hurdle him to his death...

... Ah? What's this then? Noticing some motion out of the corner of his eye, he looked down upon a figure with outstretched arms, dancing about like an idiot across the paths like some sort of retarded seagull. He didn't SEEM to be a shifter at any rate to be acting like that- at least not a full one of any sort, anyway. Another strange, unprepared traveler, no doubt.

It was then the gears began to click in his mind. Why, this barely scathed, fresh corpse, which would more than likely be preserved by the mountainside had practically just fallen into his lap! Not to mention he looked young and moderately fit enough- they'd pay him royally for that! Enough to buy him dinner and some entertainment, no doubt, for doing close to nothing at all! Oho~ He was getting excited just thinking about the possibilities!

... No. He wasn't dead yet. What if he fell off a cliffside somewhere? They don't pay for shattered and disfigured corpses... Alack, this would be a problem. It seemed the merchandise needed to be properly cultivated before it could be sold. At least the guy was already a nutjob- it shouldn't be too hard...

Oh, what the hell. He took a chance and called out to him from above. Not like this chump could really do anything, right? "Oi! Would you be needing some mental assistance in finding your way?"

[Veser Krory]

A voice. Not really revolutionary a concept but not really something he expected. He really should have been on guard for that sort of shit but he thought the place was fucking deserted. He would have preferred it deserted. Low and behold though; Veser jerked his gaze towards the voice yet even that caused him to almost lose balance. The worn-down trainers scrapped across the ice as he attempted not to fall anyway; regaining that aforementioned balance . The demonblood kept on his feet, however yet immediately a question was hissed as he repeated, "Oi? What, could you not keep the fucking brain-damaged yelling 'til a little later? Kinda busy here."

Perhaps he shouldn't have immediately been so aggressive but, christ, couldn't it wait a few seconds? Yeah, yeah, it was help. Veser heard it. Kinda hard to avoid when it was called out at you. The demonblood did continue glaring for a few seconds despite the fact standing still inevitably caused the cold to settle in. Attempting to start forward again his arms were held out again albeit in a significantly less noticeable manner than before. His pace was even slower, however, as it seemed he was keeping his eyes on the other.

... Was his hair naturally green?
Didn't seem like much of a threat though with the yelling but, 'course, he still kept an eye out. Just what was the other guy doing there anyway? Probably one of the furries when he thought about it but questions were flooding his mind as he looked up at the other. The offer. Why did the other offer? Maybe one might call it misanthropic, or misfurrythropic whatever the term could be when applied to those shifters, but at that moment in time Veser was lacking the belief that someone would offer their help in that context. Altruism in the freezing cold? Unlikely, unless the furries were turning into some whacked out form of pissy Samaritans.

"'The hell, why are you even offering to help me?" was what he said, voice far less aggressive then but noticeably watchful. That question would go first; well, technically second he supposed what with the earlier one, "Want something? I'm pretty fucking sure you want something."

( note : I AM LAZY K BANNY this is what you get 8C it is short but so is your mother? )