This, one knows, is not one's home. (OTA)
When night had come and quiet seemed to descend of a different kind than Macbeth had known, he crawled to the bed and slept as if dying. Or perhaps he was already dead, then awoke still in this strange place. Hauvratat. The water in the washroom was clean, and clear; he drank eagerly then washed himself, clothes cast aside and rank. New clothing in his closet, his jacket. He would need to regain his hatchet, his sword, from the forest. His knives were belted to his sides.
Still, it was quiet, no sense of rats of any kind scurrying, taking, waiting. He cracked open the door, peering out. Someone passed him, smiling; he flinched.
Then he ventured forth, careful, wary, unsure of what lurked in the next turn. Another witch perhaps, a blue shade, a murderer. Whatever wickedness had brought him here would not take him without a fight.
On the street, he paused, gazing about at the wholeness of everything, the cleanness of the air and sky. A church, he saw, giving a start, the forest too. That there would be hope here ... did he dare believe it? Salvation for a lost soul? The idea made him laugh, low, dry and hollow. No, he know. Not for Macbeth, the bloody King of Scotland.
He started to walk.
(ooc: find him anywhere and apologies in advance if he's v.v. terse.)
Still, it was quiet, no sense of rats of any kind scurrying, taking, waiting. He cracked open the door, peering out. Someone passed him, smiling; he flinched.
Then he ventured forth, careful, wary, unsure of what lurked in the next turn. Another witch perhaps, a blue shade, a murderer. Whatever wickedness had brought him here would not take him without a fight.
On the street, he paused, gazing about at the wholeness of everything, the cleanness of the air and sky. A church, he saw, giving a start, the forest too. That there would be hope here ... did he dare believe it? Salvation for a lost soul? The idea made him laugh, low, dry and hollow. No, he know. Not for Macbeth, the bloody King of Scotland.
He started to walk.
(ooc: find him anywhere and apologies in advance if he's v.v. terse.)