[Flashback] Goldmine? [Cantrip]

[Sayf al Din]

509 AV, 19th of Spring Drudging through the barren land of Eyktol is not an easy task for any man or woman to do, yet so many do. The Benshiras, the solemn Chaktawe and even the haughty Eypharians know what it is like to live in an endless sea of sand. Yet few have devoted their life, or part of their life, to a pilgrimage leading them to an unknown location. But to Sayf it is his chosen path, by himself and by Yahal, not a moment in those 18 months that he has been traversing the scorching sand, the shredding wind and the blistering heat, has he looked back or regretted his choice. Faith is all that keeps his soul straight and strong, but it is strong enough to enable him to endure every trial and tribulation that comes his way. He knows that Yahal wouldn't have guided him onto this path if it didn't have meaning, he knows. Sayf had lost count of the days since he last saw the other members and the Patriarch of the Tents of Khalil, he missed them and loved them but he yearns not to be with them. They are on their paths and he was on his, fate had it that they did not run parallel, and fate was what guides him. Riding on his horse for several hours underneath Syna's sun, he could feel the need for shade and water. Riding on his Desertbred on a rather slowpace as to not use up too much energy of the horse and its rider, Sayf had packed up his camp shortly after the hottest moment of the day, 2 bells after midday, and loaded everything in the saddlebags aswell as on his back before taking off towards the curved horizon with hills and valleys of sands making it into a goldenscaled serpent dividing heaven and earth. The sun was halfway through it's downwards movement to slide out of sight and give rise to Leth's moon, but Sayf knew that the horse could no longer hold out for much longer without water. Eventhough Desertbreds could hold out much longer without water than other horses, they still needed to drink eventually. Sayf would save some of the water that he'll gain overnight from the Water Trap, which collects dewdrops and rain...he had no hope for rain though, the odds were way too strongly against him in this region heavily marked by Syna. Suddenly he saw a mirage in the distance as he rode over an inner valley's edge and he saw the rising of red stone appear before him, it kept rising fast until his horse reached the top and a large natural structure of rustcolored boulders, halls, canyons, caves and all sorts of stone formatiosn revealed itself before him. He had reached the Redstone Cliffs. While he was rather educated on the geography of Eyktol he had completely forgot about the Redstone Cliffs' existence. ' Yahal be praised. ' he said while patting his Desertbred's muscular neck. He picked up the pace and strode into the Redstone Cliffs while making sure not to venture in the deeper areas, this area was uncharted territory for him and he wasn't about to foolishly rush into some unknown canyon or cave. Mizahar, and Eyktol, was far too dangerous for that kind of behaviour. He made sure to stay on the surface-level and attempted to stay clear of narrow halls between the large walls of stone, after a while he came across a small group of some withered-looking trees, no more than 3 of those rather short trees were grouped together near the border of a steep canyon between the darkchestnutcolored rockformations. He dismounted his horse and let it rest beneath the shade of the trees. He wasn't sure but he he thought he remembered the names of this type of tree. Akaka Tree, Akatia Tree...Kakati Tree...Whichever it was, he was grateful to have encountered them. Sayf sawgthat the trees had oddly shaped yellow flowers, they were bundled together and hung from the branches like ... grapes..." ACACIA! " Shouted Sayf into the wind. That was the name of the tree, he had heard you could produce special honey from their flowers but he had no idea how to do so, instead he picked a few bundles of the flowers and gave most of it to his horse while chewing on a few of them himself. The taste was mildly sweet and the leaves were thin and tasteless enough not bother the flower's flavor too much. Chewing on the honeyflowers he walked onto a large flat part of the canyon's rocky edge and looked down into the canyon, he couldn't believe his eyes...There was a very small, trickling stream of water feeding the wet rock beneath it. There was no way Sayf would let that precious water go to waste on a lifeless rock, he was going to get down there as soon as he had recovered a bit, from today's hike, underneath the Acacia Trees.

[Cantrip]

hungry.hungry.hungry. Feren’el lifted his scarred, tawny snout to regard the scorching sky, pink tongue lolling wearily, amber eyes glazing before the sweltering furnace of the desert. Beside him, his mate, Sernek, was already easing up onto her skinny haunches, ribs poking from her sunken flanks. Feren’el gazed dully at her for a moment. The female’s ears were already pricked, and when she growled lowly, he understood why. danger.danger.danger. The wolf sniffed at the trenchant winds that scoured the ruddy, stony cliffs, fur hanging lankly, the slits of his eyes flaring as he plucked up a familiar scent. human.human.human The pups were mewling in the cavity beneath the rock, tiny blots of noses the only sign of their presence under the waning shadows. They were hungry. They were all of them hungry. The jackals had driven away what game was left, leaving only lizards, spiky and covered with tan, leathery scales, and the chitinous husks of locusts to satisfy their powerful hunger. They were hungry, weak, and dying. Ekytol was hardly merciful. Serkek turned her head to him, baring her fanged jaws. danger.danger.danger. Feren’el made a short bob of his snout, indicating his understanding of her concerns, and slowly rose from the ground, snarling at the twinge in his gimpy forepaw. kill.kill.kill, he growled back, though he truly just wished to returned to the hazy dreams of his youth. Back then, he’d fought fang and claw, had run with his brothers, howling at the milky orb of the moon. They were dead now, decaying flesh picked at by condors, fading, yellowed bones poking up from the sands. Faren’el and Serkek began to lope over the ground, their pace torrid at first, and then slackening as they crested a rise, a low rumbling emanating from their throats as they regarded the threat. leave.leave.leave Faren’el growled, and Sernek slunk away, paws splaying over the red-gray sands.

[Sayf al Din]

Unaware of the presence of other living and hungry creatures, Sayf was in the process of dozing off, the shade of the tree provided a mild decrease in temperature which was very welcomed. The trickling stream of water was the only thing holding him back from sleeping underneath the Acacia and next to his resting horse who had filled part of his large stomach with the blossomed flowers of the Acacia, it was nowhere near enough for such a large animal though and Sayf maded a mental note to feed him some of its dry hay that was bought exclusively for his travelling companion. Unable to shed off the desire for water, overcoming the desire for shade and rest, Sayf pushed himself off from the cooler sand and wearily stood up, he left most of his belongings underneath the tree and with the horse, except for a few livesaving items. He needed to find an entrance into the canyon and get to that water...he wasn't going to do that unprepared, who knew what lurked in there...Syaf didn't, but he had a feeling he was going to find out soon enough. Sliding his quiver underneath the sjawl circlign his waiste, he moved the quiver to his side and was about to take off to find a proper entrance to the canyon when he heard a feral noise coming from the right, it was barely hearable and Sayf figured it was just his mind playing tricks on him. But then the sound was followed by a somewhat louder growl. Turning to his right in a sudden twist of his upperbody, forcing his legs to follow, he saw a golden wolf looking straight at him, about 10 yards away from him. He didn't know much about the wildlife in Eyktol but he had heard of wolves with fur shining with a brownish golden glow. Unfortunately for him he couldn't remember whether or not they were hostile by nature or not. Without knowing the best course of action, the only thing ringing through his mind was the fact that his, sheathed, Twohanded Scimitar was laying carelessly about on the shaded sand...too far away to risk rushing for it and prepare for an attack, but too close by to not think about it. In truth Sayf was frozen solid with fear, the only thing working for him right now was his mind and the shooting thoughts rushing through it. His eyes were locked onto the wolf's, Sayf hadn't noticed or realized that more of them could be nearby. His mind was only focusing on one thing: Survival. OOCI'm not sure whether or not you meant that the wolves had seen the threat/Sayf, but I think you did so I posted accordingly. If I'm wrong, please let me know so I can edit. ^^

[Cantrip]

Feren’el was not unaware of the scimitar, a curved piece of metal strewn on the sands, used to slay so many of his brothers, but it was not in his prey’s hands, not a present danger to him. He growled deep in his throat, half-stalking, half-limping forward. kill.kill.kill. He bared his fangs, a bead of precious slaver hanging from the yellowed enamel to descend upon the searing grains of sand. He did not care, just kept coming forward menacingly, amber eyes flashing furnace-bright. attack.attack.attack. There was a screech of a condor, a slight uplift in wind, sending a vague, sandy haze drifting just over the surface of the ruddy ground. Feren’el didn’t know if Serkek had heard, but it didn’t matter. For now, he was the leader of their abysmal pack, and that tawny skin was his to ravage, to provide for his starving pups, to make it past this day. Abruptly, he sprang forward, jaws questing for Sayf’s throat, swift despite his advanced years.