Closed The Low Sun (Closed)

[Miriyah]

Timestamp: 10th, Winter 512AV

Work began early, whilst the sun was still low and the desert was not yet at its hottest. There was a lot to do, but today Miriyah was largely excused since her Uncle and his family had re-joined them from Yahebah, thus taking a share of the jobs and distributing them amongst many cousins. She was glad, without them, the workload was doubled. Her eyes fluttered open and stared at the black goat-hair ceiling. Bells and beaten metal circlets attached to the rim of the tent tinkled as people quietly left, their silhouettes moving behind the cloth hanging from the ceiling. The bells were supposed to keep away malevolent spirits, but judging by the bad tempered murmuring of some uncle, perhaps it was one of them that had taken his shoes. Miriyah sighed and rolled over in her bed coverings, grabbing her clothes and forcing herself to get up. The younger children she slept alongside began to stir too, all tightly packed in their sleeping places, except for a couple of empty spots.

"Shhh. I told you, shhh!"

Miriyah delicately made her way around her barefoot Uncle, angrily waking up sleeping people and shoving everyone's belongings aside. Her lips pursed as she pushed back the tent hangings and stepped out into the brightening day. It felt at though the vast blue sky was becoming richer in colour ever second, as her feet felt the hard barren ground still cold from the freezing desert nights. Her eyebrows rose as she spotted what she was looking for, and heard the giggling come along with it. Three little faces disappeared behind the tent, and Miriyah hurried along in pursuit, being just agile enough to catch one of the little malevolent spirits by the collar.

"You know what you're about to be told off for, don't you?" She said, turning the little girl to face her. "Havida, go on and take back what you stole. Don't look at me like that. You deserve whatever you get." The older girl felt a small pang of sympathy as Havida picked up an upturned wicker basket and, giving her sister a look of sadness, retrieved a pair of hardened leather sandals and trailed off towards the entrance of the tent. That uncle could be a cruel one, but really, everyone knew what happened when you got out of line. Miriyah would never have dared cross the line at Havida's age, but her little sister was much more rebellious than the others. She heard the sharp screams and, flinching, walked towards an open tent where the heavy clay oven rested on the ground, already being filled with the mornings bread. An aunt gave her some dried meat and vegetables to rehydrate in the spicy sauce that was cooking, eventually turning into a thick mixture that was loaded inside the bread and sent off to the men and women who were off out into the herds for the morning. Her own breakfast was a pleasant mixture of goats cheese and olives, and she wolfed this down whilst waiting for the food to cook. She noticed, whilst chewing on the warm bread, that the women were unusually talkative this morning, whispering and looking around to check who was listening. Her mother was amongst them, adjusting and re-adjusting her colourful shawl and excitedly whispering with her sisters and nieces. Miriyah stood up. "Can I go?" She waited for the dismissal and stepped outside into the warming air, heading for the rough lean-to where the family horses were kept. Some of them were restless this morning, their ears flickering around. Her own horse, a beautiful shiny coated specimen, seemed glad to see her and happily accepted the piece of carrot she had stolen from the food supply.

[Miriyah]

Her horse, a desert breed, was called Aly. She matched her owner perfectly, being slender but strong. The sky was crystal clear and so bright it hurt Miriyah's eyes, but she saddled up Aly anyway and lifted herself on. They were riding out on the hard barren ground when they spotted one of the tent elders sitting under a dead tree. The elders were usually someone Miriyah avoided, being tired of the old stories that still amused the children. Today, this one called out to her.

"The desert winds approach!" The old woman cackled. "Careful you don't get killed, a pretty daughter is a valuable thing!" Miriyah stuck out her tongue and urged her horse on into the desert, heading for the herd of skinny cattle that were grazing on desert scrub. Their bells grew louder on approaching, and one of her favourite cousins, already swathed from head to toe in durable cloth to keep out the sun raised his hand as she approached. She reached inside her backpack and pulled out a handful of berries and offered them up. He grinned, "All right girl, you want me to cover for you, is that it?" Miriyah nodded sweetly and cocked her head.

"I want to go out to the ruins. Yehma, can I borrow your knife? Just in case." The young man hesitated then reached down in his robe, pulling out a large curved knife sheathed in a decorative cave made of leather and twisted strips of brightly coloured fabric. She smiled sweetly and took it from him, hanging it on her belt in a way where it comfortably hang. Yehma shook his head and smiled at her fondly as she turned her mount away and urged her into a quick trot.

[Miriyah]

They always passed this way, her tent. They were guided by the stars, and travelled largely by night when the sun wasn't too hot and heavy belongings were not so much of a burden. When she was younger, she usually slept through these night journeys, but nowadays she was considered adult enough to ride her horse or help scout ahead for dangerous animals. Father had always taught her and her brothers to watch for certain tracks, to identify certain droppings, even to smell the air for rotten meat or animal waste. It was life saving knowledge, often knowing the tracks between bigger lizards and smaller ones was the difference between getting a meal and becoming a meal.

Miriyah knew this place well. It was close to the desert well they briefly stopped to replenish their water stocks from before moving on to good grazing pastures. They generally turned a large circle around the desert before stopping at Yahebah for religious offerings and family gatherings before beginning the circle again. The exception was in the very hottest part of summer, when they would generally keep the known oasis to avoid desperate carnivorous animals attacking the herds or small children, and when they would spend a much longer time in Yahebah. She chanted a quiet religious chant under her breath as the sun bore down on her. It gave her comfort when riding alone, she was not yet brave enough. Her horse trod the ground steadily as it turned from hard to soft, her wide hooves easily traversing the dunes. Miriyah heard faint camp and herd noises when the chant came to a natural end, until up the steep golden dune they went and only the breathing of the horse was heard. The sand seemed to glitter as the hoof-prints stole it's pristine smoothness, gentle winds shifting the finest layer of orange.

They stopped at the top of a huge mountain of sand, looking across the vast scape of the burnings lands. Miriyah spotted what she had come for, a cluster of ruins down below, almost lost in the huge expanse. She dug her heels in and let out an involuntary squeal as Aly slid down the dune, racing against the sand.

[Miriyah]

She pressed her hands against the smooth stone, swinging on the pillar as her feet dug into the sand. This was a luxury for her, time alone. The wind had picked up and tiny sand devils were swirling on the slopes that hugged the cluster of ruins. Partly buried, maybe it had once been a bustling trade post but more likely it was some kind of temple, with it's cut stone columns and archways. There was a crumbling circle of stone that may have once been a well, but it was long dried up and now, peering down into the deep, dark hole, Miriyah suspected that it was probably full of sand. She slipped off her leather sandals, and gripping with her hands and feet began to slowly climb one of the smaller archways. They were lit a soft gold by the sun, casting jagged shadows against the sand. Crouched with her knees under her chin, the girl sighed and pushed her hair under her shawl. Already the sun was beginning to burn and she knew she would have limited time. She slid down ungracefully from the archway and began to meander through the building, which had long been open to the sky and had long had walls with large gaps like open wounds, rocks piling at the foot of them, spilling out from the huge cracks. There were faded carvings on those walls, and every time Miriyah thought she could see something different. Was that an eagle, with spread winds soaring against the vast sky, or was it the shape of a heron, with it's wings spread guarding its lake? She turned around, her feet becoming dusty under the hard rock, and then sinking into warm sand as she climbed out of a the hall and swung between an open hallway of pillars. She imagined she was a king's daughter, decked out in fine linen and golden beads, waiting for his return. Stepping around the well and a pile of sharper stones, she was the explorer, mapping new lands for great reward. And, venturing into the darkness of a half buried hall she had never noticed before, she was the miner, about to chip away in the darkness for riches of gems and metals.

It was too dark in here. Miriyah's daydreams snapped in front of her as she realised that in this half buried room there could be any number of scorpions or wild animals. She made to clamber out, then shrieked as the wall she had grabbed onto fell right in front of her, half burying her leg. Light flooded the room and the girl relaxed, digging herself out of a pile of sand and thanking Yahal that the wall hadn't crushed her to death. She stood up, feeling her heart shake her entire body and clutched her arms around herself. The room was smaller than she had thought, buried at a strange angle that she hadn't noticed until the wall collapse and the sand sloped up to the surface. Curious carvings lined the wall. She tilted her head and slowly followed the scene with her eyes and then her feet, wandering silently around the room. A hunter and his party chose their weapons. The hunter chose a spear, and the spear was decorated in Shiber writing. The spear had special properties? The hunter chose his field, beckoned to his party. The party spots their prey, but a desert lion unspotted makes the party his pray. The hunter advances. The lion advances. The party realises what is happening too late, and a huge fight ensues. The lion is ripped apart by the hunter with his spear, the lions entrails littering the ground. The hunter lifts the dripping spear above his head.

Miriyah shuddered, and clambered up the sand slope and into the burning sun.

[Sorahi]

The Kelvic lion's fur rippled over her muscular, though a bit scrawny, body. She had been roaming the dunes of Eyktol in search of prey, when she spotted a young Benshira on her horse, traveling across the sands towards the ruins. The lioness growled quietly from where she watched. Her things had been left within the rock for safekeeping while she hunted.

Slowly, she approached, watching as the girl left her horse unattended. The lioness waited, making sure the Benshira would not inconveniently reappear. The Kelvic did not have the energy to fight off a human, as well as hunt, however small. No, the lioness was hunting for survival, not for pleasure. She hadn't eaten in.... Well, a while. Her ribs had started to create ridges in her golden coat, betraying the wild hunger.

Satisfied that the young Benshira had gone far enough, the lioness began to stalk her prey, keeping low to the sand as her great paws led her forward. She silently approached the horse from the rear as it grazed on the rare patch of flora. Carefully, swiftly, she pounced.

[Miriyah]

[OOC: I'm sorry about the delay! Internet troubles and irl stuff came up]

The first she heard was an unearthly screech, which permeated the air around her and shattered the dusty peace. A pang of fear shook the girl's body before she realised her senses and heard the trampling hoof-beats of a horse. She scrambled up on top of a pile of rocks to see what was happening, clutching at her cousins curved knife, desperately trying to pull it out of it's sheath. The lion, thin and hungry looking, had pounced. Miriyah tried not to feel dizzy at the blood from the horse dripping onto the sand and being kicked up into a unnatural coloured cloud as the horse bolted in terror.

There had been hunts before, animals she'd seen scream in pain as they went down under the hunters knife, but never had she seen her own horse in such terror, it's eyes rolling as it kicked out and tried to escape. The girl knew if she ran now, the lioness would probably be content to sit with it's meal as Miriyah returned with her cousins and Uncle to kill it, but her the pain in her heart at seeing her own animal in such terrified confusion froze her in place. She took the knife, the leather handle feeling strange in her hands, and with it raised in front of her she crept towards the lioness. It was time for some hunter's bravery.

[Sorahi]

(OOC: Oh, no worries. I've been half dead, anyway. Damned flu. >.>)

The lioness had her claws in the beast's chest, holding herself upon its back. The horse, in its self-preserving frenzy, kicked and reared, causing a noisy ruckus the Kelvic did not need. The Benshira would surely hear, and the lioness could barely see past the bloodstained clouds of dust. She would have little defense but instinct against the girl.

Unable too see that the little Benshira had returned, the lioness kept her focus upon her prey. She fought to stay on top of the mare, digging her lethal claws in deeper, tearing into muscle. The lioness snarled at the horse as it screeched, and made her move for the jugular.