Between Sunset and Sunrise the Forest Comes Alive (Abashai )

[Nya Winters]

Timestamp: 30th of Summer, 509 AV
Location: The Cobalt Mountains
Mood: Curious and Playful
Reason: Wilderness Survival Experience

Nya always loved the wilds. From the sharp evergreen tang of the vegetation to the never silent sound of the denizens going about their day - the wilderness held its appeal. When she was a tiny child, her mother had carried her out into the woods that surrounded the tower they lived in and laid her as a babe on the moss that covered the ground between the enormous Talderian Cedars that made up the grove her home had been in. It had calmed her, even if her crying had been incessant and unstoppable. She'd smile, grab fistfuls of moss, and coo. It was one of those times she'd first shapeshifted into the oversized awkward kitten that found joy in the cedar duff that created a soft spongy bed beneath the bows of the moss-draped giants. Nya had worried her mother, for even as a kitten she'd been almost as large as a normal forest cat. Her father had said little about it, simply snorting in his disinterested way and gesturing to the grove they lived in as if that had something acutely to do with why the two of them had produced a Talderian kelvic rather than something that would fit far easier into society. Nya thought about her father and smiled slightly. They had a special bond, though as she grew older her nature had made his increasingly more nervous until it was obvious she'd need to set out on her own. Most kelvic did anyhow. Nya had, moving south, heading towards Syliras at her mother's suggestion to learn how to live among humans and blend into a city environment, which was something she'd never experienced before.


But the woods were far more comfortable for her. And now that she was in a new set of them, Nya had decided she'd rather grow comfortable in the wilds that stretched north and west of Syliras before she grew comfortable with the city itself. Somewhere in the Cobalts she'd find a territory, stake her claim on it, and make herself a nice den. But until then, she'd roam around growing more familiar with the surroundings and more comfortable in the forest. North of Syliras was territory she'd already traveled through, so it was west and a bit south of the city that she investigated next. There were farms to the extreme south. They grew food all the way from Syliras to the Cyphrus boarders. Nya wanted to visit the grasslands to the south, and perhaps even the deserts further on someday. But until then she had to get comfortable with where she was.

Naturally, Nya followed waterways. She often took tributaries of large rivers or steams and followed them upwards to their source. It was a good way to learn the land and understand where the water came from and get to know the mountains that shed the droplets like an oilskin cloak to provide nourishment for those living lower on their flanks. Nya followed one stream in particular, working her way upwards. She found a waterfall that intrigued her, a nice deep plunge pool perfect for swimming, then a grove of smaller pines below it that would provide a perfect campsite for establishing a base. She scouted the area, loved the availability of fish, and found the forest provided a lot of deadfall for a fire. Nya really didn't need a fire to survive, but she found that if she stayed in her human form (which she'd promised her parents she'd try to do more and more) that she would get chilled at night. So fires were the first order of business when she established a camp.

She found a nice location backed by a rock wall that had trees sheltering it overhead. And while there was no den per say, there was a good reflective surface to send the heat off a small fire back over a sleeper or two. Nya put down her pack, which truthfully wasn't overly full of survival supplies, and stretched once she decided on the location. Then she began dragging stones over from the stream to line a firepit, clearing all the debris out of the location. Once she used a branch to sweep clear an area, had the rock lined firepit built, and looked around to see what else was necessary. Nya took the time to gather wood, both hard and soft, piling it up so she'd have a steady supply of firewood to last the entire night, then took out her knife and used it to cut a length of hardwood branch to use as a fireplow against a softer section of maple branch.

Nya carved a flat place on the softwood, and then honed the hardwood branch into a point, then gathered tinder to pile together around the plow in hopes she'd catch it on fire as she whirled the stick between her hands. She sat working at that a long time, running her hands up and down the plow, whirling it deftly. Nya was a patient cat, carefully mindful of her promise to her parents to play the part of being human as much as she could. Even as the hardwood branch blistered her fingers, she didn't grumble. She just kept spinning and spinning it, hoping the wood would catch fire. Her father had taught her this trick ages ago, and he'd explained using a firebow as well, though she'd never personally tried it. Surviving in the wilderness wasn't hard for a kelvic. It wasn't particularly difficult or taxing - but it was lonely work. She longed for someone to talk too, even if it was a stray crow or raven that wandered by to perch on an upper branch and watch her expectantly. There were songbirds a plenty, but none of them were inclined to visit. Nya sighed, took a break from her plowing, and stretched again.

"I know I promised, but fur is so much easier than all this work...." She complained to no one in particular before picking up the bow again and going back to the task of getting the fire started. How did humans do it? Didn't they click some sort of stones together for sparks? She had none, so she kept whirling her plow... growing frustrated.

[Abashai]

At first sight, the Cobalt Mountains had intrigued Abashai. From the time he set foot on the Kabrin Road where the dust and sand of Eyktol gave way to the sea of waving grasses of Cyphrus, his senses had been assailed with the sights, sounds and smells of lands that were once only myths in his mind...and he had loved every moment. It was as if he had walked through one of the ancient watchtower gates into a whole new world. But the hazy, hulking peaks in the distance gave Abashai the feeling he had reached a destination.

At least for now, he had decided to bypass the great city of Syliras, whose spires he could see off in the distance. His curiosity drew him to the great forest carpeting the lowlands and slopes of the mountains. Well-meaning travelers along the road had warned him about entering the Bronze Wood alone, but Abashai would only smile and reply in a thick accent, "My trust is in Yahal."

The truth was that Abashai was still learning to trust Yahal, that's what this whole fantastic journey was about. As he became engulfed in a landscape of strange terrain, cultures and peoples, his sense of isolation became almost overwhelming. Those first days he clung to Yahal as a child on its first visit to a great city. Abashai's prayers turned to whole conversations muttered as he rode along. He would comfort himself by reading his father's penita scrolls and singing psalms the old women of the tents would sing at evening mashas. It did not take long, however, for Abashai's curiosity and faith to overcome his trepidation.

As he traveled, Abashai preferred sleeping in his tent, or even outside, to the traveler shelters lining the Kabrin Road. The solid walls made it difficult to hear movement or activity outside. Besides, he had been sleeping in a tent for most of his life. It's for this reason that Abashai now dismounted Sus and left the main road. He had been riding all day and, now that the sun was well past its zenith, he wanted to find some water and a secure site to bed down.

Leading his horse, Abashai trekked through the underbrush. He walked with his head up, scanning the woods in every direction. His diligence was not only a practical exercise in detecting threats, but allowed Abahsai to fill his eyes with the beauty of the forest surrounding him. His initial claustrophobic reaction to the enclosing woods gave way to fascination with the imposing bronze-barked trees, reaching more than twice the height of any he had seen and whose massive branches created a canopy of living green that shielded one from the harsh summer sun, yet permitted just enough of its gold rays to reach the forest floor, giving light and life to the myriad of flora and fauna dwelling there. It was very nearly the exact opposite of Abashas's desert home.

A twig cracked under Abashai's boot, snapping him back from his musings. That was one drawback of the forest, he thought, one does not make noise when traveling through sand. He drew in a deep breath, sucking in the humid air, thick with the aroma of living plants. Quite different from the arid, dusty air of Eyktol. Abahsai paused, through the din of insects and twittering birds, a quiet babbling caught his ear. "Ah, Sus, my trusty steed, I believe a long cool draught is in order". Abashai patted the bay's strong neck and lead her toward the sound.

The stream was not deep where they found it, running over a soft bed dotted with smooth stones. The horse went so far as to stand with its front hooves in the cool water, then dipped her head for a long drink. Abashai removed the scabbarded khopesh hanging from a leather strap across his chest, and laid the Eypharian sword next to him. The oddly curved sword and the short bow hanging from his saddle were the last purchases he made before leaving Eyktol. Loosening the weapon in its holder and scanning the woods once again, Abashai then crouched by the stream, scooping up a handful of water and splashing it against his face. He used his sleeve to wipe away the water and lifted another scoopful of water to his mouth.

He took several more drinks, then, his immediate thirst sated, stood and lifted the empty waterskin from his saddle. Abashai glanced upstream. He narrowed his eyes, peering through the thin branches and leaves reaching over the stream. He saw what appeared to be a small grotto lined with conifer trees. Beyond that the stream plunged several feet into a pool before meandering down in his direction. Turning away, he stooped to plunge the waterskin beneath the water's crystal surface, watching it swell. When it was full, he stopped it and returned it to its place on his saddle. Picking up the khopesh, he slung it again over his shoulder. Abashai turned upstream, walking carefully along its edge toward the waterfall, Sus following faithfully behind.

[Nya Winters]

Nya was normally observant. She'd have heard the twig snap a mile away and known that a large animal, perhaps more than one, was moving through the sometimes thick underbrush. But the fact that she was busy whirling her fireplow was creating enough noise that she simply didn't hear anything out of the ordinary. A small breeze was tickling her cheek, trying to get her attention, and so she'd projected her thoughts outward at it, asking it to kiss the tip of the plow where the tender was so she could stop blowing on the heated wood - letting the tiny wind do the work for her. A thin tendril of smoke, barely there, escaped her persistent efforts and she sent her joy out into the breeze that swirled around her. The creature, a being with a life of its own, wove in and out of the newly caught fire as Nya plucked the plow off its bowl and added more shavings of dry wood to the fire and as it blazed brighter its first stick or two.

Nya purred in pleasure, laughing as the breeze tossed her hair, sharing her joy and equally glad for the attention. They'd both been lonely and looking for company. Nya could smell the freshness of the breeze and realized it had been among the woods for a while. Now that her little fire was truly blazing and she had added several thick branches to catch and keep the flames happy, Nya rose and brushed off her black leather pants. She glanced at her hands, frowned, and decided the blisters would benefit from a rinse in the stream. Her campsite was sheltered from view either from upstream or downstream, but someone walking directly along the stream towards the waterfall would walk right by. There was no hiding it. And it was at that moment, the moment she turned towards the stream, that her nose caught the aroma of horse. Horses here in the bronze wood meant men. Nya edged closer to the water, trying to stay out of view, and looked downstream. Sure enough there was a lone man, watering his horse. Then he knelt and watered himself. Nya watched the horse more than she did the man. She'd already seen the weapons on the man and recognized the danger he represented. But what she wanted to know was what the horse was like. Was it calm? The man had watered the mare before himself, which was a telling sign. But she watched the mare's ears and her gaze, hoping the animal would give her a clue about how she felt serving the man she was with. She looked for fear, wariness, signs the horse accepted that the man was a predator. There seemed to be none. The horse looked to the man for leadership, but it was not out of fear. She could see the respect the animal had for the man because of the mare's overly calm manner and the way she never hesitated to follow him as leader. Nya liked horses, and although she could ride a little because her father had taken her on him, most horses strongly disliked her . It wasn't their fault really. It was simply that Nya smelled like a forest cat and most forest cats loved to dine on horses. Horses weren't stupid creatures - their common sense saved them more often than naught. But the only horses that would tolerate her were ones that truly trusted their riders (if the riders decided to trust Nya) and those that got to know her and realize that they weren't on the menu.

One would think a Talderian Forest Cat would find horses tasty and well within the accepted spectrum for 'food'. But Nya's father was a kelvic horse, and she could no more stomach eating one of her father's kin than she could find satisfaction dining on a slug. The man, however, she had no qualms about eating if he proved problematic. But he had a great deal of steel on him, and that in itself made her wary. Just one swipe with a sword could seriously harm her. Nya respected steel. So too did the bow. It was hard to outrun an arrow, no matter how big or fast you were. Plus the horse seemed to like the man, which gave him favor in the kelvics mind.

They were going to pass right by Nya's campsite. They'd see it for certain. So Nya decided to wait, taking the time to study the man. He moved with purpose and strength in his stride. He had a long black mane and strange hair on his face. And although he didn't talk to the mare with his voice, his body language spoke volumes. He didn't yank on the mare's reins, but he was clear in where he wanted to go - telling her with his body. Nya knew that language well. The man seemed confident, alert but not overly cautious, and curious. He somehow looked out of place in these lands, as if his manner of dress wasn't quite right or fit in with the locals. She had a hard time picking up oddities like that other than in a casual manner, because truthfully details like dress eluded her.

The waterfall. She should have guessed it would draw his attention. The reason she camped so near it was that she wanted a swim later, perhaps after dark, when it was closer to the time of sleep. Nya was fastidiously clean, and like all forest cats, she was equally at home in the water - not balking at it like a house cat would.

As for Abashai, when he drew parallel with her campsite, he'd see a small rock outcropping well above the waterline and well off the creek itself. There was a small fire burning against the rocks, reflecting heat back on the small clearing around it. He'd perhaps note a small pack off to one side of the fire, a cleared out spot near it where someone had swept the forest debris away. And he'd not fail to notice, crouched by the edge of the stream, a solitary woman with an overabundance of dark tangled hair and wary moss green eyes watching him. Nya was young, appearing in her late teens - fit and with a strong suggestion of muscling visible in her bare arms. She was half kneeling, not quite down on one knee - dressed in black leather pants belted at the hips, calf-high boots, and a tank top that was tucked into the pants. She wore no jewelry and had a feral look about her - as if she was deciding to run or to stay and fight as she watched. The curious thing he'd note was her absolute stillness. She held herself rigid, watching him only with her eyes, not seeming to breath at all as she guarded the newly formed camp and watched the visitor walk past. He'd also note the woods were strangely quiet, as if watching and waiting for a confrontation as the horseman discovered the campsite passing by.

If he paused and met her gaze, Nya would give him a smile - the first movement she'd make unless he himself spoke.

[Abashai]

Eyktol had very little water. Running water could only be found around the orchards, grain fields and vineyards of the two major cities. Since leaving the desert, Abashai had taken delight in every river, steam and waterfall he had come across. To a man raised in a land where a puddle of water in the sand could be more valuable than a man's life, seeing an endless supply of water running from one unseen place to another was nothing short of a miraculous gift of the gods.

Abashai continued upstream toward the small waterfall, anxious to see the rushing water. His pace slowed as he caught the faint smell of smoke and soon he could see the wisps of gray slowly rising through the pines ahead. For a moment he paused, debating whether to turn away and avoid the falls, or move on and investigate the source of the fire. Curiosity won out, as it usually did, and he continued his advance. Abashai could see beyond the pines the beginning of an open area flanking the stream. Sus snorted nervously, startling Abashai more than he would liked to admit. The abruptness of the bay's outburst punctuated the silence that fell on the woods. Gone was the cacophony of forest sounds, only the rush of the waterfall filled the moist air. His heart began to pound. The clearing opened to reveal a small, neatly-ringed fire against a rock wall outcropping. Then Abashai halted so suddenly that Sus bumped into him. Without turning, he reached back to lay an apologetic hand on her forelock.

Beside the water was a woman, a girl really. He did not notice her youth, or whether she was attractive, or whether she was armed. From the moment he caught the glimpse of her, there was an unsettling sensation, something that clung to the fringe of his awareness and resisted definition. She seemed to hang mid-crouch, stone still, her eyes fixed on him, as if some god had frozen her mid-motion. The hair on the back of his neck rose as as he strove to define what it was about the girl that seemed...unnatural. Then it came to him, the memory of a house cat he had seem among the Eypharians. When he came upon it, the feline froze, its slitted eyes watching him, as if he took even a breath it would burst into movement. No, the girl did not look frozen, she was like a taut bowstring, waiting to release its stored energy in an explosion of motion. It was the posture of a predatory animal.

Abahsai suddenly found the contradictions posed by the young woman tantalizing, and a slight, unexpected grin crossed his face. He relished the thrill of the mysterious encounter. Sus, too, was sensing something threatening and shuffled uncomfortably, her panic momentarily allayed by the presence of her master. All this took place in the span of a moment. The entire forest seemed to hold its breath as the man and woman locked gazes, moss green eyes and crystalline blue-green. Only the rushing water persisted in its tireless motion.
His lips parted as if to say something but, in the surreal weight of the moment, he could find no words to utter.

[Nya Winters]

Nya Winters hung in that singular instant. Her feline nature tended to savored things and she could not have told someone later if she met his gaze for one breath or a hundred because she lingered in that one magical moment of meeting. It was a single moment they would never have again. His piercing blue-green eyes would become familiar to her after that single span of Tanroa's gift as either her enemy or her friend. But while she had his gaze and his full attention, she looked deeply into him. Nya was no konti seer or a woman marked with Avalis' scrolling patterning giving her deep and profound visions. Instead, she was a simple cat, filled completely with the curiosity of her kind and the singular instinct of self preservation. And so she looked, peering into the grinning eyes of the stranger, weighing his actions as if they were words.

A soft tendril of will - a request buried within that moment - sent the breeze that had decided to be her companion for the evening outward to him. It wove around him ruffling his hair, caressing him, gathering his scent, and cheerfully returned it to Nya. The kelvic drank it in, filling her lungs with what he was, while her eyes still locked on his. Male, a hint of leather and steel, horse, exotic spice as if he ate things that routinely weren't found in the area. She could smell his slight sweat and the road dirt on him. No blood. No rot. No tang of something slightly off. No scent of magic either obvious or subtle. It was a good smell... an honest smell. Her smile broadened.

He must have been used to dealing with animals because his silent posture, lack of speaking, the flash of a grin, and the way the horse looked to him put Nya somewhat at ease. It might have been a false ease, but it settled her desire to fight almost immediately, putting it to rest. She rose slowly to her full height keeping her hands in clear view. She wanted to roam over to him and greet him properly, running her jawline up his and purring to show that she meant no harm and would enjoy some company. But he was human, and wouldn't understand such things. Human males, her mother had warned her, were notorious about misjudging such gestures.

"Be human." Nya told herself firmly and instead broke the timeless moment by speaking softly. "I am Nya. Nya Winters. I just made camp with the desire to do some hunting, perhaps swim at the falls, and get some rest. You and your mare are welcome to join me. There is room." She said in a soft alto voice that had something of a hint of a purr in it. "I was just going to set some snares. It is still early, so I should catch rabbits by the time darkness falls for a decent meal tonight." If she didn't have them via the snares, she'd stalk them in her wilder form, but the man didn't need to know that. "I rarely have company at my campfire. You would be a welcome addition today. And I have a few wild apples in my pack for your mare." She said then, finally, letting him decide. Nya spoke in a manner that was slightly awkward, as if she was attempting to fill the silence in a way that reassured him, but in a way she wasn't totally comfortable with. It was as if she forced the words, trying to mimic a conversation she had heard elsewhere. "If you have other plans, I will leave you in peace to the falls." Nya said, fisting her hands over the blisters she'd come to the water's edge to rinse. Being human was hard... too hard sometimes. She wondered how the man and the rest of his kind fared so well with it.

[Abashai]

Abashai had carefully watched the young woman as she rose to full height, her movement slow and controlled. She appeared no more than a teenager, but her form was more defined and muscled than any lass that age. Her charming face was framed by a tangle of long, dark hair, appearing mottled in the random rays of sunlight. Eyes of intense green only flinched once as she glanced behind him at his horse. Abahsai knew those eyes studied him, reading him. He had seen that look before, but only in the eyes of dangerous men and animals. She was truly an enigma, and Abashai was drawn to her.

She was perceptive, he had noted, keeping her hands where he could see them. She did not want to pose a threat. When she spoke, her voice had a soft, disarming tone. Though the manner in which she spoke was somewhat awkward, as if she may be trying too hard, he had no doubt that she was sincere. His inkling was that Nya was as uncomforatble with the situation as he was, and knowing that put him at ease. "My name is Abahsai, just Abashai". His smile broadened. "I gladly accept your invitation, Nya Winters." His own words sounded awkward in his ears.

They stood for a moment in an uncomfortable silence. The encounter had progressed from one based on primal self-preservation to a more complex affair of social interaction. Abashai felt as if he should greet her in some formal way. He had learned so many different customs lately, the handshake, the wave, the kiss on the cheek. None of those seemed appropriate, so he abandoned the gesture. Instead he made his way across the slow running stream, Sus following behind, into the clearing.

"I'm not much of a hunter or trapper, but I would gladly help skin and dress whatever you catch," Abasahi offered, busying himself with the removing the mare's headstall.

[Nya Winters]

Nya smiled again. So - great orators they were not. His words seemed as awkward as her own, and his hesitation at his greeting lead her to believe he was as uncertain of the situation as she was. There was something she should say here, Nya decided, trying to remember the lessons on manners her parents had told her of. The kelvic tilted her head, thought a moment, and then the memory returned. "I am glad to make your acquaintance, Abashai." She said softly. Yes, that was it. That was it exactly. Nya then bent, rinsing the sore spots on her hand in the cooling waters as the man and his mare crossed the shallow ripples outside of the clearing to join her on the west side. She did the task quickly, then turned to retreat back to where her pack was. She squatted then dug into the pack, pulling out three medium sized apples as she'd promised. The girl rose, turned then waited for the pair's approach... apples clutched in her outstretched hand.

When the man stopped to remove the mare's headstall, she approached quietly, slowly, not wanting to startled the horse. She spoke in a soft voice, quietly, keeping the man between her and the animal so she could hand him the apples and let him be the buffer between them - someone the mare trusted. "Most horses do not like me until they know me. I... make them a little nervous. I do like them though. She is a lovely mare." Nya said, still standing back. She'd hand Abashai the apples if he'd take them, and then move back to a more comfortable distance.

"There is no better time to learn to catch your own food. In fact, there is an old human saying that hungry hunters make the best hunters, but I do not believe it. I think you are a better hunter when you are not blinded by your need. But I will accept your offer of dressing the rabbits for me... if we can catch them. You might even be the better one to cook them. I do not cook so well." She said softly, returning to the pack to pull out several lengths of snare wires she'd picked up on her shopping trip with Leo in Syliras. Nya was starting to relax a little bit. The man was busy with his horse and seemed to offer no threat. In fact, he didn't strike her as the type that filled the silence overly much with useless words. She was the same way. So instead, as she gathered the things she'd need to set the snares, she watched him work. He was a striking man, a strong one, with the look of a far off place about him. Nya longed to ask him more than his name - like why he was here in her woods, or why he was traveling. But such things were rude and beyond her right to know. She would leave him be and make sure the coming night was peaceful and safe for them both. In the morning, he'd move on, and so would she

"There are a large number of rabbits here. They like the tender greens beneath the trees, and have made trails everywhere." I can smell them. They make me hungry. She said, then thought, still moving around until she had a length of tough cord and a small knife in case they needed more materials. When the man was done tending the horse, she'd invite him to join her. It was still early afternoon, far too early for the rabbits to be out having their evening snack, but it was the magical moment for setting snares.

Nya had this way about her. Strangers were strangers until names were exchanged, then they were acquaintances. After they'd eaten together, they might even advance more towards a friendship. Until then, it was a simple thing. "Will you walk with me to set the snares?" She asked, having waited for him to settle the mare, and then himself before asking.

[Abashai]

"Sure," Abahsai replied as he laid his oud on top his saddlebags, the stringed instrument carefully wrapped in a wool blanket. "I'd never pass up a chance to learn from an expert.". He glanced up at Nya, flashing a smile, hoping it helped make her feel more comfortable. It helped him, smiles...honest smiles, tended to put him at ease. He noticed Nya smiled a lot.

She was watching him, for good reason he supposed, though he saw no sign of fear. She actually appeared excited. The excitement was contagious, and he found himself looking forward to the trap-setting like it was a grand adventure.

After ensuring all his belongings were safely stowed, He looked over at Sus, who was content to search the small clearing for plants to her liking. He hesitated leaving the horse, still unfamiliar with what dangers these woods harbored, but the clearing was well concealed from view, which is probably why Nya had chosen it.

Ready to go, Abahsai cinched up his khopesh and slung his bow and quiver over his shoulder. For a moment he wondered how the girl defended herself. He found very few traveled Mizahar without some sort of weapon, or in the company of someone who did, but Nya appeared totally unarmed. The girl still posed a conundrum to Abashai and there where were many unanswered questions. He wasn't going to get answers unless he asked and so he did. "How did you learn to trap rabbits?". The question was innocuous enough not to be prying, but hopefully a good start.

[Nya Winters]

Nya watched the weapons being secured and tried not to think of them. The bow especially made her nervous. The khopesh was deadly, but easily avoidable if one knew it was there and was fast enough. Abashai could be faster though. There was a decidedly good chance of it, for he looked fit and animated, as if his body was no stranger to defending itself. Nya watched him glance at the horse and knew the mare would be safe enough. The clearing smelled of forest cat, and none of the usual predators would bother the horse while they were gone. Besides, they weren't going far.

As Abashai asked his question, a memory surged up in Nya's mind. It was her mother, a lovely pale woman with hair that wasn't quite red and wasn't quite blond. Zilvia was tough, resourceful, and somewhat independent. They were walking in the stand of wood around the tower, selecting herbs for a ritual that would come later that day. Nya's mother did most of the hunting. Her father was ill suited for the task and had no taste for meat anyhow. And while Nya was still young, she was bumbly and awkward, unable to catch more than fat sweet field mice which her mother had forbidden her from bringing home to contribute to the table. So that day her mother had set out to not only gather plants but to set snares. It was on that trip her mother had first shown her how useful snares could be.

Back then, her mother had no real knowledge of rabbits and the rabbit mind, not like Nya had now... but she still did well enough. The girl had trailed the woman all day, watching her mother's actions, letting her talk, listening - sometimes as a human youth, sometimes as a forest cat. Her mother never minded, for Nya was a good listener, and for all her wildness was never truly disobedient.

"My mother taught me. She lived alone for years on the boarder of Sylira and Taldera working on her studies. It was how she fed herself. Snares are easy, because unlike other hunting, they do the killing as well so there isn't much mess. It is a good choice for someone who doesn't like blood but would rather have rabbit in their vegetable stew than just vegetables." Nya said, leading the man out of the clearing and along the river until they were on the boarder of a thick bramble. "I am no expert, but I like a full belly so I have studied the way rabbits like to live. If you know how they like to live, it is easy to help them die." She said gently, then handed him a snare. It was a thin loop of wire that fully extended was about eight to ten inches in diameter. The wire had a slip knot on one end and a solid loop on the other end. Nya abruptly halted, knelt, and tied a strip of the extra line around a small tree. It was sturdy string, heavy, and not easily broken. Then she tied one of the snares she still had to the string by the sold loop end, so that all that remained was the large circle. Nya glanced up at Abashai, her eyes twinkling with mischief or the secret delight in the hunt. When she spoke, it was as if she was sharing a great and precious secret with him. And as she did so, she reached up, took his hand for a moment, and drew him down next to her so she could properly show him what she was doing. If willing, he'd find himself kneeling in the grass beside her like two children crouched to ambush.

"Rabbits are simple creatures. When they get caught in something, they panic because they think running away is the only way to save themselves. They get scared easily, and that is why a snare works so well. Their own fear causes them to choke, their own panic kills them. All you need to do is find a rabbit trail and set up a snare." Then she showed him the trail by gesturing. It lead from a nearby bramble towards the tender grass on the edge of the creek. It passed close to a small tree, then through some heavy grass where they were kneeling , and out into the finer greenery bordering the stream. "When they get hungry they will come out to feed. This trail is beaten down, so that means they use it often. They will come along here, and have to pass through this place where the grass closes in a bit. It is a good place for a snare. We can also break off some branches off nearby brush and press them into the ground to close up any gaps on either side of the path to make sure the rabbit comes through on the trail exactly here. Or you can bend the grass in more closely. It is not like a fence or anything, because a rabbit can get through. But it will not go through if the grass looks heavy. Rabbits are lazy. They will stay on the trail." She said, whispering still even as she did as she described, bending and pressing grass to form a more formidable barrier on either side of where the trail passed through the taller grass, closing off the gaps and making the actual rabbit trail all the more appealing for the crossing. "They are not too smart, not like us, and will not notice the change. They also have big ears, so they hear more than they smell. Their noses want to find food, not warn them about dangerous things. That is what their big ears are for." To her, it was all very simple. And while she some might take her words as overly simplistic and childlike in their explanation, the way she said them was with reverence, as if she were actually explaining all this to someone who was somehow above her on the order of things.

Nya tucked a stray lock of her long hair behind her ear and turned her head to smile at him. Her moss green eyes where wide with excitement. Then she reached forward and arranged the snare so the loop draped in a circle sideways over the trail - the heavy string attached and woven through the grass nearly invisible - its diameter still around 6 inches, at about chest height to an average rabbit. The heavy string was tied to the tree, though Abashai could see that a heavy stake or peg could also secure it when no tree was available. The snare weighed almost nothing, so it was really easy to drape in the thin grass and suspended the snare over the trail. Nya used her fist to demonstrate, showing him the pad marks where a rabbit normally hopped along the trail. "My fist is the rabbit... bounce, bounce... see the marks? Put the snare where it takes off again, at a high point, so its sure to put its head through the loop. It will keep going, not seeing it, and the loop will go tight around its neck. Once it feels that, it will thrash and panic, killing itself almost immediately by choking." She said this as if it was routine, not squeamish in the least. And she mimicked the movement of the rabbit, using her fist, until she caught her own fist on the loop and made it thrash around giving him a good demonstration of how the snare worked. Truth be told, all the rabbit smell around her was making her stomach rumble. To Nya, the trails were visible to her eyes - just like they'd be to Abashi, but she could also smell them and that made the pathways almost glow with scent, telling her how many, which individuals - moved along the trail routinely. There were many rabbits here. Taking a brace of them wouldn't harm the group at all.

She reset the snare and fussed until it was set about the right height and then rose, reaching down to pull him up alongside her by the hand. "I think you should try now... find another trail, a way to secure the snare so the rabbit can't run with it, and then bend the grass and set it. We can leave about four out here, pretty far apart, and we should have dinner by dusk." Nya said, her stomach grumbling again. She looked sheepish while she hacked off another length of heavy string and handed it to him to use with the snare. There were plenty of other trails, other trees, and a great many good places to set a snare all within a few dozen feet.

"And what about you? Do you set snares where you come from? Where are you from, if you do not mind my asking? You look... and smell different from the other people here." She probably shouldn't have said he smelled differently, but he did. There was something exotic about Abashai that Nya couldn't put her finger on. He was from someplace else, she was sure of it, though she had no clue as to where.

[Abashai]

Abahsai stifled a grin. Smelled different! It struck him funny, yet he marveled at the simple sincerity in Nya's comment. She spoke with the demeanor of a wide-eyed child, to whom the world was a wondrous place to explore. Even while she explained the art of catching and killing rabbits in great detail, she taught it with exuberance, taking his hand and pulling him along like a youth showing a new playmate how to perform a trick. The desert traveler found it both amusing and endearing.

Abashai looked down, adjusting the wire loop's size in his hands. "I am from the deserts to the south. Where I come from, we do not trap. There is very little grass or trees or trails to follow. We raise flocks of goat and sheep, and a few cattle. For a lot of us, our tents are our homes, and we search the land for places to water and feed our animals." He felt almost guilty, the textbook definition did no justice to his generous, lively, devout people. He paused a moment, enjoying a few memories of the aromatic tea the benshira women served with figcakes, the coolness of the desert air, warded off by the camp's fires, and the music and dancing of the evening mashas. he found himself staring blankly at the ground, fiddling with the wire snare. He smiled slightly, then stood up, looking for a rabbit trail several feet up from Nya's first snare.

He found what he thought might be a rabbit trail, a path of slightly flattened grass coming out of the brambles. He adjusted the wire loop, and laid it across the path. There was nothing close to which he could attach the string, so he took a length of broken birchwood and stuck it in the ground, pounding it into place with a small rock. Attaching the string, he tried to fluff the grass to either side of the trap to force the rabbit through the wire circle, like Nya had shown him. He stood up and took a step back, examining the snare. For some reason it didn't look as neat and camouflaged as hers, but he hoped it would fool the rabbits. He waited for Nya to come and inspect his work.

"Where do you come from, Nya Winters"?" He really wanted to ask, what are you doing out here alone in the middle of the wilderness. Her child-like behavior seemed to contradict her deep familiarity with the woods and the grace by which she traversed the terrain. Nya moved through the ferns, logs and fallen leaves with such finesse that she barely made a sound.