Seattle Washington

[Demmural Parson]

~Seattle~

The forests outside of Seattle Washington were very wet and rugged indeed. And of course, it was raining. More of a drizzle than anything else at all. Not a full on down pour. The sun was completely blotted out by the over cast. The clouds hung high over head, and created its usual gloomy depressive mood. The Puget Sound was rolling about rather gracefully.

The forests ground was mushy, and squishy due to the previous rainy weather the day before. Which happened to be a down pour. Despite the wetness, and the terrain, Demmural Neziel Parson pushed forth, trudging along rather easily. His dark brown hooded robe aided him in protecting his body from the moisture that fell from above. This was his second time in america. He will never make the same mistake as last time and accidentally eat an unknown mushroom that he randomly found. His hunger had gotten the best of him. He should not have the same problem again, seeing as he now had a small pack of rations for his personal needs.

The exact reason of him being in such a location, was due to one thing. And all should know this thing, for it never fails to intrigue Demmurals mind when he hears a rumor about treasure or something grand. He must set out in search of it. But what was it this time? Gold? Silver? Riches? Or perhaps some one in particular? The answer was revealed as Demmural muttered to himself.

"Why on earth would some one choose such a wet location to live in? Of all places he wishes for me to travel...it is one of the wettest places in America..." Demmural was slightly irritated at the thought of this place being so dank. To him it was bothersome. Especially as he had traveled to such a location to find a human in need of assistance with some form of quest, or journey. This was all that Demmural knew so far. Still he pushed on ducking and weaving under branches, and between trees to the location he needed to be. Some camp site in the forest he was in.

[NeoLeaf]

You could hear it. The very few raindrops that drum softly against the family tent's roof. The tent is divided into three rooms. the left and right sides are your typical sleeping rooms while the middle room seems to be an open space with a wall and roof connecting the structure of the tent. In the middle of the tent there sat a young man who seems asleep. He was wearing his dark green wind breaker with the hood over his shaved head, a white t-shirt under the windbreaker acting as another way to warm his body, his dark green shorts and matching running shoes are replaced by his thick dark green jeans and white boots.

He sat on a simple camping chair, with one leg resting on top of another, arms folded against his chest and with his head staring at his knees. He slowly glanced with his brown eyes at the cheap plastic table beside him, different stacks of paper are stacked on the sides of the table with rocks on them, drawing equipment such as pencils or erasers are scattered, an Apple notebook resting soundly after its been turned off, a bottle of Fanta resting in the middle of the table half finished and Neoleaf led out a sigh.

He paid attention away from the messy table and casted back towards the forest in front of him. He breathed in the fresh air and felt the cool soft wind brush against his body and face. He looked at the wet trees, the brown damp earth and watched the transparent drops fall. A smile broke his calm straight face as he is reminded of his own homeland. The climate of the North Sea above Germany and Denmark. Wet, cold and almost always depressing.

Why is this man even here? Neoleaf is an artist, it's not uncommon for individuals such as musicians or artists to go travel about. His reason official reason for being here in the United States is to explore areas and draw them. But he has another reason for being here. He wants to escape his boring life in Germany and the way to do that was to go to the states.

The young man closed his eyes and bowed his head forward. Hearing faint sounds of the soft rain and cool gentle voices of the wind acted as a melody for this European fellow, slowly Neloeaf slipped away from reality and fell into a comfortable slumber.

[Tayva Aschaund]

"I hate this place."

Fire-aligned dragons were not known to enjoy wet weather, or water for that matter. And this cold damp forest was no exception for the fire dragon, disguised as a human. Arms wrapped close to his chest, he looked almost sullen, before glancing over at his companion, who was leading the way through this dank place. The draconian paused, before turning to her dragon, and making a small face.

"Well you were the one who wanted to stretch out in your true form, so you can't be picky about where it is. This is the closest area away from human eyes that you'll be safe." Tayva reminded the dragon, before spinning about, taking a step forward, and blinking in surprise. The girl made a face, as she felt her foot begin to sink in a rather disgusting puddle of mud, threatening to steal her shoe right off her foot. Trying to pull away with little success, she looked over to her companion Talos for some assistance.

With a sigh, the dragon stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her waist, before dislodging her from the mud. With a disgusting "squelch" sound, her foot and shoe were released from the confines of the mud, and the girl was free to walk again. However as she looked down at her mud-soaked shoe, Tayva let out a small sigh. "Do you mind if we find somewhere to take a short rest? At this rate I'm going to be covered in dirt."

The dragon shrugged, before following Tayva once more, unable to understand why humans were so bothered with the idea of getting a little dirty.

[Demmural Parson]

~Why Is Everything So Dirty~

Groaning as he pulled his foot from the mud, Demmural fell forth unto the damp ground. The terrain was causing more of a war with him than that of the hunters. Highly irritated, he plunged his staff into the ground, and channeled his lightning through it with a grunt and a twist of the staff. Doing so, he turned the small mud puddle ha had stepped in, into glass. For when lightning strikes, mud, or sand, the result is twisted and contorted glass. Though, this must be done with high volts of lightning.

He had spent many of his years studying electricity and its components. Thus he learned to craft glass from it. Working himself up unto his own two feet, Demmural turned his back upon the small glass pit, then continued to walk, foot half covered in mud, and robe half damp. Grumbling and muttering under his breathe, he tried his hardest to hold tight to his sanity from screaming aloud. His patience was wearing thin. Though he gained some of it back as he came across a wooden sign nailed to a tree that had an arrow pointing towards his right that read Camp.

"Thank.....The Gods..." He said through clenched teeth as he he turned in the pointed direction and began to walk, hoping to soon come across the supposed camp it was pointing him too.