Comprehend - Prologue
Imported from SF2 with no description.
Waves on the shore, muddy paws on the heavy-trodden soil, and the uneven patters of a heavy torrent from the sky. Somehow, the cacophonous sounds of the environment failed to reach the ears of the canine; completely lost in a symphony of thoughts. The wolf sauntered along the dampened roads to an isolated fishing village. With the moonlight held captive behind the clouds, he relied solely on what little use his senses provided. Darkness concealing the details, the petrichor dulling his smell, and the tempests of nature showing his ears no mercy. No matter, he could feel that he was going in the right direction. As if an invisible tether drew him closer to his destination, he sloppily plopped his paws one after the other, the mud proving difficult to traverse. He knew this was the right place. It had to be the right place.
Rickety shacks and makeshift houses dotted the shoreline of the loch, the drab colors masking all details of the village, save the shapes against the dark background. It appeared to be lifeless, but the canine knew better. Months of downpour had taken something from this place, and he intended to give it back. While the population of Otters would likely welcome a common occurrence of rain, taking the sun away could prove disastrous to anyone. He thought back on his journey, wondering if he should have shown some more urgency in his travels. There wasn't a single flicker of light in any window, and what seemed to be a tall and spindly tower showed no activity. Were there no fishing boats coming in? Surely the docks would show some signs of work, as fishers hardly ever used the cover of night as an excuse to stay in.
As he drew closer, he felt some of the tension in his shoulders subside, and his hackles drooped back into a relaxed position. He was within the threshold of the village at this point, coming across a sign reading, "Azureloch, the Best Fishing Village in the Azure Valley". An involuntary scoff escaped his muzzle. Yeah, the only fishing village in the Azure Valley. It was clear to him now that the village as a whole had turned in for the night, any sort of depraved or sinister atmosphere had subsided quickly upon entry of the village's borders. He could hear, no, feel the heartbeats of residents in the nearby shanties; they rest for the night, seemingly unaware of the forces at work in this place.
He drew closer to the center of the hamlet, the houses and lodgings showing more signs of structural integrity. If these buildings were creaking, the howling winds were doing an excellent job of masking the sound; and although the weather did its best to stop him, the stranger was able to locate what appeared to be an inn or tavern. First, he tried the door, disappointment wracking his bones as he found the entrance to be locked. Squaring his shoulders, he gave a sturdy knock, hoping someone might hear him and that he might spend an evening with a roof over his head for once. His paws lingered on the door, and as his hopes of gaining shelter for the night faded, his paw drifted from the surface of the waterlogged doorway.
Letting his shoulders fall, the wolf began to turn away, almost missing the sound of hinges squeaking. The door opened slightly; the silhouette of a shorter individual barely visible in the low light.
"Get lost Mut, we're fully booked, and wouldn't want your money either way!" The emphasis on Mut along with the gruff voice of the older male was enough to cause the wolf's tail to droop.
"Bu-But, could I at least-" was all he could get out before the door was slammed shut. His heart sank. At this rate, his enchantment would wear thin, and he would soon be...
A dull hum and a faint acrid smell indicated the end of his enchantment. His muscles tensed, and he pressed himself close to the building, hoping to gain some protection from the elements under the overhang of the roof.
Droplets of downpour spilled from the roof and onto his hood, the magical dryness he had been enjoying had come to an end. Unslinging his pack from his shoulders, he hunched over it, shielding his belongings from the elements. He had to find something large enough to at least protect this while he slept for the night, even a couple of unused planks would do the trick. His eyes darted back and forth along the roads and alleys, the rainfall making it difficult to make out anything useful despite his excellent vision in the dark. He sidled along the side of the establishment, the eaves proving to be a rather poor solution to his problem in the long term, but if he could just find something...
Peering into the windows of the tavern, he could just make out some doorways leading to rooms devoid of patrons. The wolf had figured as much, but the confirmation stung much more than the assumption. The moisture around his eyes was no longer from just the sky. No, you can't let this hurt you or cause you to waver. Continuing along the perimeter, he stopped where the tavern met another building. There was just enough space for someone of his size to squeeze in. Were I a little more otter-shaped, perhaps this fit wouldn't be so troublesome...
Pressing himself deep into the narrow alleyway, it became obvious that achieving a horizontal position would be both difficult and disadvantageous. It wasn't entirely shielded from the rain, just substantially better than being out in the open. If he could avoid it, he would prefer to not get himself covered in mud once again, it never did come out of his fur easily...
Looks like it was another night of sleeping while standing up. He drew his cloak tighter around him and double-checked to make sure the straps of his bag wouldn't slip during his brief slumber. Not having any energy left to put effort into an enchantment, he gave up on trying to achieve a meaningful level of comfort, and let himself shift to a state of suppressed consciousness. His last coherent thoughts formed a silent prayer to no one in particular, that the morning may bring him closer to saving this town from its demise.