Avec le retrait rapide du fusil de ses mains, Cynthia s'est approchée pour le reprendre avant d'être arrêtée par une lame à sa gorge. Le métal frais menaçait de couper sa peau étrangement lisse, attendant juste ce mouvement subtil pour commencer à tirer du sang. Un sifflement de ses oreilles fort et clair. Le contre-signal de Ravenia indiquait clairement que le sifflet devait informer Ravenia de quelque chose. Elle n'osait plus parler à la Mère. Elle n'a pas bougé à mesure qu'ils coulaient dans l'ombre, le froid vide se sentant se laver sur elle brièvement avant qu'ils retournent dans le monde de la lumière.
Ils étaient devant la porte. Elle le savait en regardant autour d'elle. Marcus, le garde de la porte, il était là. D'autres étaient là aussi. Un grand gars, un petit gars, tous les deux que Cynthia croyait avoir un lien direct avec Ravenia, et au moins trois gardes de porte avec des armes dirigées contre elle.
C'était une autre putain de tique sur sa marque, lui rappelant encore plus comment il a toujours échoué à faire son travail correctement.
Marcus a laissé Ravenia tirer à son loisir, debout à côté des gardes de la porte à toute l'attention avant même de murmurer quoi que ce soit.
"Mon problème. Je vais m'occuper d'elle." Il lui dit, marchant lentement et prudemment vers la fille habillée qui venait de se lever du sol, sa veste vert foncé maintenant un brun sale de la poussière rouge au-dessous d'eux. Il regarda Ravenia et se prosterna devant elle. "Ça n'arrivera plus."
C'était le plus qu'il ait parlé à un moment en plusieurs mois. Il s'est demandé pourquoi elle n'a pas immédiatement lancé son doigt sur lui et l'a banni pour une autre erreur que seul il pouvait prendre la chute pour. Il avait besoin d'elle pour savoir qu'il n'avait jamais fait la même erreur deux fois, et bien qu'il ne lui ait pas donné toute l'information, il était sûr qu'il allait faire quelque chose à propos de cette fille.
"Je te jure! Je vous le jure! Je ne suis pas là pour tuer qui que ce soit! Je suis juste une fille qui essaie de gagner ma vie en achetant et en vendant de la merde. Si tu veux m'expulser de la ville pour toujours, s'il te plaît, rends-moi mon fusil et laisse-moi partir." Cynthia plaidait devant le danger, ne prenant toujours aucun pas plus près ou plus loin de Ravenia. Cette petite teinte du visage de Marcus lui a dit qu'elle ne s'en sortirait pas aussi facilement. Ces petites micro-expressions de lui lui ont dit tout ce qu'elle avait besoin de savoir sur ce qu'elle allait faire.
Et rien de tout ça n'a semblé amusant.
:.Born As.:
Carl-Wayne Thule
:.What You see.:

"The only easy day was yesterday"
"Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark, And shares the nature of infinity"
A general description:
Roughly 5'10" probably closer to 6' if not for the noticeable hunched over look from being in his half dead state. A rather stocky guy considering. Built like a bear with toned muscles and large hands and feet. He's bald but has some greyed/ashy colored facial hair. Forehead is deeply wrinkled, an obvious abnormal aging effect on certain areas of his skin.
He wears handmade leather and plant fiber clothing (blends of cotton and various similar woven fibers. His leather pants and shoes are both a deep brown color with reddish brown dirt stains on them. Relatively clean for living in the wastes. He obviously takes great pride in the things he creates with his own hands. He also wears a handmade leather vest that has snug pockets on the front and sides that carry his various field tools (hunting/carving knives, ropes and fasteners, etc.)
He has several scars on his forearms that will probably never heal due to his half dead state. His eyes give him away, where use to be brown irises are now hollow looking grey circles.
:.Also Known As.:
The Woodsman, The Hunter, Old man, Treekeeper.
:.Appear To Be.:
(Late 40s-50s) he actually died at 35 but came back mostly the same with a few side effects.
:.The Doctor Said.:
Male
:.I Swing Towards.:
Straight.
:.People Say.:
Generally good natured man, likes to be alone, but will never turn down a good conversation, or a good glass of whiskey. Willing to lend a hand, but doesn't take Sh** from anyone. Has a soft heart for children and women in distress.
Hates his condition, and most others like him. Goes out of his way to avoid other half dead, and kills any of the actually dead that he sees. Mostly to protect the living but secretly because he hates them.
People recognize him as a master craftsman of primitive items (utensils, tools, weapons like bows and arrows and swords/knives, pottery.) And generally enjoy his meat products from his forest gatherings (steaks, jerkys, etc.)
:.What I Like To Do.:
Hunt, craft, play guitar, write, fix things, anything he can do with his hands that keeps him distracted from being a half dead outcast.
:.Profession.:
Hunter/craftsman
:.The Past Was.:
Before the fall Carl-Wayne worked in a lumber mill and was always sort of the outdoorsman type. Him and his wife Cindy lived in a cabin about 10 miles from the mill. He was quite the musician, not overly handsome, but his build commanded looks and respect from those around him. He had no children as his wife was infertile. He always wanted kids but she meant the world to him and he wouldn't change a thing.
He was always good at trade work and working with his hands, he really was a simple man in those times. He had a dog named Buck, and went to church on Sundays, not so much because he was religious, but there wasn't much else to do in his small town, and Cindy seemed to find some peace in life with it, so it stuck.
:.The Proud.:
Half dead woodsman.
:.A Glorious Gift.:
-Half Dead do not need to eat or drink, though doing so does help keep their bodies from decaying like a normal Dead body does. However some Half-Dead already show minor or heavy signs of decay to varying degrees(peeling skin, dilated white lifeless eyes, etc.)
-They do not feel pain.
-They cannot die unless their brain is destroyed.
-They are not attacked by The Dead.
:.What I Have On Me.:
Various hunting/gathering/crafting tools and items.
Several handmade instruments (guitars, harmonica, hand drums, etc.)
Finely crafted bow and arrows
Crossbow
Various finely crafted knives, machetes, Hammers
Homemade whiskies
:.Who I Know.:
(Your relations to the other characters. )
Billy the orphan boy (staying in refugee camp)
Item B
Item C
:.Blood.:
(Your character's family members. Alive and/or Deceased)
Cindy Thule - Wife - Deceased
Jacob Thule - Brother - Deceased
Anthony Thule - Brother - Deceased
:.Behind The Scenes.:
Plays a mean game of Poker.