Enocra Woodland

Pine, spruce and firs alike...
Dense coniferous forests cover the woodlands, with clearings, paths and the occasional wildberry shrub throughout. Pine, spruce and fir make up much of the forest in the east, with the forest becoming swampier in the west towards Mecor Valley. In the west, cypress trees dominate, with fallen trees creating bridges across and throughout the stillwaters.

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AS iF TO FLY
IP: 71.192.221.44
Posted on April 2, 2013 at 00:40:31 AM by ALiCE


The clockwork angel isn’t little and she’s certainly not a bird. That’s something that she’s never been compared to… so way to go. Alice isn’t a bird. She’s a well-built creature with thick shoulders and heavy bones. An amazon female, maybe, if she’d thought like that. Alice doesn’t. She thinks as something entirely different, entirely of her own design. The clockwork angel is of her own design, if that makes sense. She’s the automaton that came to life because she wanted to, not because someone willed her to. Before the man she appears, existing in the simple fact of her… well… being. Alice simply is.

She doesn’t see the hulking beast because she doesn’t look. Frankly, Alice doesn’t care. There’s a sound that he makes, one that cuts the air, though. To that the female swings her head. Alice sits upon her haunches, rust colored eyes meeting the man’s face. It’s with a certain amount of boredom, something that just… well, she’s unimpressed. The man stands all sorts of gallant and brash, and she doesn’t appear to be entertained by any of it. He’s a hulking beast, yet she doesn’t bat an eye. It takes a lot to get the clockwork angel interested in anything, let alone excited about it. No, she simply sits and watches.

He isn’t a man she’s seen before, and Alice likes to think she’s seen mostly everyone around here. She does know mostly everyone… mostly. There’s an odd look in the automaton’s eyes, and it rests there unsettlingly. Even for a female her voice is brassy, a high tenor as opposed to even an alto. It’s something that she’s always had, something she can’t help. “What’s your angle, new kid?” There’s not so much sass as there is curiosity. Sometimes, though the clockwork angel hides it, she burns with curiosity. There’s a fight between hiding it and letting it show, and honestly, Alice could be on either side of the fence without realizing it at this very moment.
ALiCE
hound’s
gypsy | seven | unattached




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