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    The South

    Although the southern parts of the city might not have the luxuries of the north or the down town vibe of the east, but these suburbs still have their own sort of charm. Here small neighborhood owned shops often run rampant, individuals often know each other by first name. The west is a quaint, quiet part of town. It's the sort of place where children can be seen playing safely on the sidewalks and clamoring in the park. On the weekends in the families often take to the beach to enjoy the warm waters that surround the city.

    What's You'll Find Here

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    Beachside Bar & Bistro

    owned by Adelaide Labelle
    3 employees

    Beachside Bar & Bistro

    Resting right on the beach near the small, locally owned shops and markets sits a bar and bistro with an elegant yet modern interior. There is seating both indoors and outdoors on the back patio where one can enjoy the melodic sounds of saltwater waves and fresh air. The menu consists of French dishes alongside American and Seafood choices and a wide range of liquors at the bar inside to accommodate the varied tastes and cravings of its customers. It is a charming little establishment that allows for those needing a break from the busy city streets to come and unwind.

    Owner Adelaide Labelle

    Barkeeper Killian Carrick
    Waitress Abigail Hughes
    Waitress Elain Daray

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    Hyde Park

    Hyde Park

    Hyde Place takes up a large part of the Southern side of the city and includes a large playground, several fountains, and a small garden. The park is open from five in the morning till midnight though many shady characters may visit this place while it's technically "closed". The park has also been a venue for several concerts and hosts many holiday related events. Under a full moon, witches are often seen here for the sacred ground beneath the iconic Weeping Beech.

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    The Outskirts

    The Outskirts

    Beyond the city limits and over the bridge lies the deep, dark, and almost impenetrable forest. Often times seen as a way to guard this magical city from the world that surrounds it, many are entirely ignorant of the evil that may creep between those tree trunks. Many were-creatures use the forest for the transformations of their newest members and some even take to hunting here. It isn't particularly peculiar for people to go missing within this forest but once you get through, the rest of the world awaits.

I'm here in search of your glory, theres been a million before me60.229.57.209Posted On March 05, 2018 at 1:00 PM by Rixon Leifsson

we built this city on broken glass



He could sense the apprehension in the woman without even truly asking after it. nadya , though she pretended otherwise, was clearly nervous over this idea of saddling and riding a horse. Skills she was going to need to master to an acceptable level if she truly intended to accompany him back to Iceland and navigate those frozen tundras and volcanic trails that stretched on for days in either direction. Walking would be close to impossible, if not blatantly foolish and in this environment her panther form would offer her few advantages. Such an animal not designed to live or survive comfortably on open tundras buried beneath snow and exposed to the elements. That ability to sense that….insecurity came near naturally to him. Few creatures more capable then horses when it came to exploiting the fear in others and yet he said little off it as he led that old pony from his stall. Nadya’s comment upon the age of the creature seeing his lip merely quirk upward in a rare show of a genuine amusement as his head simply nodded.

“He is old, at least twenty and yet horses can live well into their thirties. His old age means he has likely seen it all before and isn’t going to mind if you make mistakes like a young horse. As for the weight of the saddle I fear it is one of the few things mankind has not changed terribly much over the years. It needs to be light enough to carry but heavy enough to be durable. It’s a balance.”

The words were simple, matter-of-fact and yet affording her those answers all the same, those near frosted tones his words tended to take on when speaking to others largely absent in any words he offered Nadya. The woman alone, it seemed, capable of coaxing those more pleasant tones from him and yet he was attempting to afford her some measure of confidence in turn even though his own decidedly calm efforts. The old grey pony was hitched easily to the rail of the round practice yard, that horse gear hung upon one of the metal rungs beside it before Frost simply reached for her hand. Those words of protest on her lips were met with the simple raise of an eye, Frost affording little room for argument as his fingers entwined with her own to rest upon the ponies pale shoulder with that explanation of just why it was critical he let that animal know where she was at all times- especially himself. The lack of vision in his own right eye making movements upon that side off his body difficult to predict. The chance of her being accidentally injured far more increased if he hardly knew she was there. To teach someone a lifetime of equestrian skills in a few shorts hours was a task he hardly took lightly and yet- if Nadya came away today having at least some sensible idea of handling a horse then it would be better than nothing.

His own attention returned to that tack then. Frost easily affording that demonstration of putting on the saddle and pad and doing up that girth to secure it in place. Chester easily content to simply stand throughout before the stallion stepped away, gesturing for Nadya to take her own turn. That nervousness readily seemed to eclipse the woman once more. Frost shifting to stand beside Chester’s head just in case that pony decided to take advantage of Nadya’s anxiety. That lesson in regards to keeping one hand on the animal, in the least, seemed to have struck home. Nadya quickly placing her hand back on his shoulder before seeing to that saddle. Her efforts were somewhat fumbling and yet they were hardly the worst he had ever seen. The woman was trying and he could hardly ask any more of her. Frost affording her a soft nod of encouragement as she glanced toward him. The man decidedly patient when it came to Nadya. That query on why that girth needed to be so tight prompting his own voice once more.

“Because if it is not tight enough the saddle will slip. Imagine the dangers of a saddle that slips underneath a horse and how quickly the rider would fall. It is for safety.”

He had, more than once, purposefully held his breath when those Hunters had come to put that riding saddle on himself. Frost waiting until the man was mounted before releasing that breath he had been holding- the saddle instantly falling loose before he’d near launch into the air to send the man flying. If the Hunter had proven good enough to survive that bucking, the saddle sliding wildly beneath them had never failed to unseat them. Alexander alone the sole rider whom had ever failed to fall from his back and yet- Frost had come to the conclusion that Alexander was abnormally skilled. Even without a saddle the Hunter’s riding seat was...beyond compare. His relationship with Alex one of the few things he had hardly spoken to Nadya about and yet now hardly seemed the time. His thoughts readily distracted from their own consideration by the sudden squeal of the pony and Nadya’s own gasp of fear. Hmm. How amusing it was to see the mighty panther flee from a tiny pony. For now however, he hardly dared laugh.

Her hands gripped his forearm then, that genuine fear lacing every part of her. That soft assurance she didn't want to put a saddle on him seeing his own features soften, his violet gaze finding her own somewhere beneath that white forelock of hair. The woman desiring to learn without a saddle, a part of him near desiring to lecture her on exactly why she needed to learn these things. That one squeal of an elderly pony was hardly reason enough not to try again. Any other being would surely have been told to stop being so utterly foolish and try again and yet….he never had been able to summon such words for Nadya. Not her. Whatever gentleness existed within the man surely existed for her. He was...learning to display it. Slowly. Subtly. Frost shifting slightly to let his arms rest around her waist, drawing his girlfriend smoothly against him as his lips pressed gently to her forehead in a simple moment of chaste affection. The stallion sighing softly then.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, your learning, it was a mistake. I know you don’t want to do it but it is necessary in this case. We are going to need to carry things- things that are going to keep us alive in the sorts of conditions you have never been in before. I am capable of carrying quite a lot- and comfortably- but I need your help to do it. We’ll come back to the saddle later. Let’s try having a ride.”

To push her now would achieve little. Frost having existed around women long enough to know when to push and when to leave. If that saddle distressed the woman then he saw no need to continue with it for now. Rather, the stallion merely sought to distract her fromthat task with another. It had been...years since he had been required to teach anyone to ride. Alexander a blessing in disguise with his own skills and yet the mans allergy to cats assured he could hardly bring the Hunter here now to offer Nadya that instruction. They would make do with what they had. His hand shifted away from the young woman only to lift to his shirt, pulling it from his figure to hang onto the railing, his pants following a moment later before that shift overcame his figure. The man replaced with the towering snowy-coloured stallion. Waves of thickened mane falling into his eyes as those heavy, feathered feet carried him back toward Nadya now. It had hardly occurred to him in that moment that some of that fear had surely come from what she had seen him do with his teeth alone to those Hunters only hours before. Such deaths meaning so little to the icelandic man that he had near forgotten them already. That velvet soft nose reached out to bump against his girlfriend then before he abruptly begun to lower himself downward onto his knees, those hind legs following a moment later until Frost rested on the soft earth off that arena- making it decidedly easy for the woman to climb onto his back. His words reaching for her mind alone then.

When you climb on, use your knees to grip and wrap your hands into as much of my mane as you can and hang on tightly while I get back up. Don't worry about injuring me. Horses have no nerves along the ridge of our manes. You can tug on it all day long, I hardly feel it.

FrosT




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