arachnid's vessel

“ The water ain’t goin’ anywhere if you wanna check it out, you know. “

“Oh, I don’t... think it wise for me to go anywhere near the water,” she murmured, giving a soft smile though her eyes never met his. “Besides, I’m not very used to sunlight this warm. I’ve never been to a place like this before.”

arachnidsvessel

Cruelty existed in many different forms, no matter the time or the place. A human on a diet could find their sibling gorging themselves on sweets and junk food to be cruel. One with a more worldly eye could see the travesties to nature that were exacted by humans and see them as cruel. For Vlad Tepes, the fact that he was a man of and for his people, yet repulse anyone by his very presence, was cruel.

Even as he walked upon the streets, his expression a kind smile, the citizens would scatter from him, as though they had seen a ghoul or a monster. Unfortunately, the man’s very reputation of being a blood-thirsty demon of the night, brought upon by those who slandered his legend, became his very presence; one of great foreboding and ominous terror to a lesser mortal who would look upon him. It was a distressing note of the life he lead as a servant, an existence that embellished upon all those harsh notes in his history, accurate or not. He would never deny that he did monstrous things, but such was war.

His lonesome reverie was broken by a gentle prod upon his leg, causing his gaze to immediately turn to the source. A young woman, carrying what he would assume to be a walking stick passed him by. There was a moment of confusion; could she withstand his presence enough to be able to stand walking past him? All others immediately found a different route once they saw him. Intrigued, he allowed his interest to lead the way to an encounter.

“Are you lost, child?”

Lost...?

Moira often did not realize that she intruded upon others’ personal space when she moved-- she was still highly unaccustomed to busy cities and often struck people on accident with the ornate walking stick she carried. Having been addressed by a male to her right, seemingly concerned for her whereabouts, she swiveled around in her best attempts to face him.

“Oh! Um, I’m not... lost, per say-- simply strolling,” she remarked, her face turned to the direction the voice had come from. 

For some reason, she found herself more embarrassed and reluctant to admit that she had nothing better to do than roam the streets. Features apologetic, Moira did her best to turn her dark, unseeing eyes to the man’s general direction. Oh, how difficult it had been since she had lost contact with her allies.