Gwendel made his way back to the little hill by the lake where he liked to spend his time. He retrieved his little chalk board and the small stump of chalk he had left, then walked down toward the little lake. All the other things he'd snatched from the shipments he'd hidden among the long grass and cattails here. There was a pair of nail clippers (claws were useful for a Neko, but he preferred to keep his tidy and short), a bottle of aspirin (Gwendel had poor vision and was prone to headaches), a bar of soap (not all the crossbreeds on Astiria bothered to bathe, but Gwendel liked to consider himself civilized), and a ball of yarn (...the kitty in him just couldn't resist).<br/><br/>Gwendel liked to think of Nekos as different kinds of cats based on their personality. There were alley cats (usually quiet and capable fighters who were often a bit rougher around the edges), and house cats (often more timid or playful, and usually not as inclined to fighting). He was most certainly a house cat.<br/><br/>With his things gathered, the Graecian Neko settled to spend just one more night on this little hill that was becoming so familiar.<br/><br/>----------------------------<br/><br/>There wasn't anything Ikuto had that he really wanted to bring with him beyond what he was already carrying. He left the fireside though, heading off to a certain tree he'd claimed as his own. In his life time Ikuto had had little that was really "his", and he was determined to spend this (god willing) last night on Astiria in<span style="font-style: italic">his</span>tree.