"Danger be to those that seek out things they do not understand. Turn away or be lost child." The letter sat on the balcony roof she slept on, crisp and clean compared to the slate around her. Red ink stood out on the white, dark as dried blood and readable only in the moonlight. Her fur bristled.
"Old coot. I know exactly what I'm doing," she said. The moonlight highlighted the old boy's clothes she wore, from newsboy cap to boots. Her white hair was tucked into the hat, and brown eyes shown against the stripes on her face. She yawned and flicked her tail and ears. "Aw well. I'll bed down tonight and start searching tomorrow."
As she lay under the blankets stashed under the eves, a figure watched nearby. The smog in the London air did little to hide the eyes of it. Within a minute, it dashed away.
The year was 1800. The place was London. But the world would soon be Hell.
(I am starting this from a roleplay envisioned by someone else. He hasn't been on the forums since a few posts in, but it seemed neat to start. I hope it's not against the rules to use an abandoned RP.)
