<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/5a/Skrida.png)</div><strong>Character name:</strong>Skrida<br/><strong>Who:</strong>Mikla, Nilteni, Astir, & 'Nesii<br/><strong>Where:</strong>Near the Sacrifice House<br/><strong>When:</strong>Early Morning<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Running over the new recruits in his mind, Skrida let out a long sigh. While he had nothing against the girls, who'd seemed kind for all that they were exhausted and wary, he shuddered at the thought of another Eira in the camp. Eira knew well enough that she had no enduring purpose within the pack. Scut work wasn't pleasant or fulfilling, and even busy hands if not busied all could lead to all kinds of mischief. Of course, only time would tell how things would play out. Perhaps having two other girls in similar positions might even soften Eira in some small way.<br/><br/>Probably not.<br/><br/>"The blond had rough hands. You'll probably get her name soon enough," Skrida said almost absentmindedly. "I'll wager you my best hammer that she's learnt some sort of trade and she'll be in our place by afternoon looking for space and tools." As Mikla continued on, Skrida's mind returned once more to the girls they'd spoken to. "They'll both be fine enough. Unna will adapt quickly and Hiti is too curious to pout for long."<br/><br/>He looked down at Nilteni, still prancing near them. His cold chapped lips quirked up into a smile and he reached down to bury a hand in the wolf's thick fur. "Warm," he practically moaned. "Shit, enough about your future conquests, Mikla, lets go to the House already. I'm freezing."<br/><br/>Just as they were about to go further, a clearly distracted Astir nearly ran into Mikla. Though the other's tone was friendly enough his face was still lined with what looked like the remnants of worry. It couldn't bode well. Skrida stopped walking and buried his other hand into Nilteni's fur for warmth. "Fetching spare clothes for the new sacrifices so that Eira doesn't skin us," he said.<br/><br/>When he heard 'Nesii's bright laughter he nearly groaned. So much for getting a move on. Skrida dropped into a crouch and buried his face in Nilteni's fur as one might do with a much beloved blanket. "You are my only friend," he said, words muffled by fur. "Your warmth is the sole consolation that tides me through these frigid times." Undoubtedly he was being melodramatic, but he honestly thought his nose might freeze off. There was a reason he loved his forge: it was always warm. Even with his face hidden, however, his laughter at 'Nesii's teasing threat was unmistakeable and infectious.