Y/n stood in the cool salt water. Waves crashed against her legs in the ebb and flow. Even though she was trying to relax, she was worried. The village behind her was too quiet.
She looked out to the horizon. There hadn't been a ship in sight for a while. There was no traffic coming to or going from the docks. She had yet to see anyone since arriving here before dawn. It had to be late morning, if not midday.
She turned to look back at the buildings. Maybe she should check things out...?
At a strange, scream-like call of a bird, she headed back to the sand where she left her bag and shoes. The sand was hot from the sun as she bounced from foot to foot, minimizing contact with the heated ground. After putting her black slippers on and grabbing her bag, she paused to enjoy the salty sea breeze, blowing her h/c hair with it. She let her legs dry a bit
before unrolling her dark pants. Then she headed to the dock ramp leading to city roads.
Once she turned, walking away, the silhouette of a ship peeked over the horizon.
The town itself was gorgeous. Medieval-style houses lined the grey-stone brick streets. The bricks themselves were laid in a shell pattern. There was vegetation everywhere, from trees on street corners to homes lined with flowery window sills. There were a few small parks and city squares scattered about.
The town's silence made her uneasy. What port town doesn't have sailors? Fishermen? Even trade ships? It's not like the place was blockaded. She did note there were a couple of pirate flags with the same jolly roger, but pirates in a city aren't exactly unheard of. It's not typical of an antagonistic crew to linger without razing the place down or holding it hostage.
Usually, they created a ruckus; it was way too quiet for that.
Though the soil for the many pots and plants was running dry, there weren't many weeds, if any, and the vegetation was clearly cared for. No pests or plant diseases. Whatever's been happening, it didn't start all that long ago. The place wasn't abandoned. Shops were all closed, but the windows weren't boarded up. The houses she peeked into weren't messy. No signs of looting, anyway, and no one appeared to have left in a hurry.
There weren't any animal sounds. No birds, squirrels, rodents, or pets. Not even the whisper of a person. The unsettling atmosphere set her on edge.
As she walked around, she kept her eyes moving without lingering for more than seconds. Checking for movement, anything unusual or out of place. She checked entrances of side streets, windows, any open doorways, and roofs; there was nothing at all.
Until she came across a line of destroyed houses.
It went on for blocks. In one direction, it led to the outskirts of the town. The path widened the farther it went; whatever caused it had a huge blast radius. In the opposite direction was a bar, loudly occupied, with the jolly roger from the docks.
She decided she valued her life and kept
walking.
Y/n warily roamed the city, feeling unnerved.
The moment she saw the dog, she was concerned. He was scruffy and covered in dry blood. She fought down the urge to rush over, slowly approaching him from the front. He watched her warily, but she stopped about a yard in front of him. She slowly reached out her hand, knuckles skyward, inching close enough for him to smell her.
His nose was wet and cool to the touch, and once he lightly licked her, she gently moved her hand to scratch the top of his head. She also took that moment to look him over for injuries.
He had cuts on the top of his head, the side of his face, his left leg, and his left ribs-his left side had the worst injuries. He didn't have a collar, either.
