OOCHey since this is a seven day jaunt, and I don't have many thread partners here, want to do a separate thread per day, starting with this day 1?
Rengar decided to go an extended jaunt into the wilds. While he liked staying in the Thunder Bay area, every so often, he just needed to lose himself from society. He had his entire campsite packed up, and now carried it on his back, and began heading southward, his boots crunching in the snow. He looked up at the night sky, wanting to get a good day's trek in before Syna rose. He hoped to find some of the rarer trees that couldn't be found near the mountain, maybe get a few skins or animals to take back. After all, as an Avora his satisfaction in life came second to ensuring the mountain didn't starve.
Several bells had passed, Syna now in the sky, when Rengar decided he'd come far enough. So now it was time to locate a good campsite. He needed something near to water, out of the way from animal paths, and away from danger. He recalled nearly getting crushed to death many years ago when he first traveled through Kalea and camped on a mountainside. He'd start with finding water sources. He sniffed at the air, still not fully used to his new nose being able to pick up smells he couldn't before, thanks to Oriana. He could smell the pungent pines that were common in these forests, with hints of all the blooming flora nearby, a taste of Tavasi. But he couldn't smell any water nearby. So he began his way southeast, knowing the coast of the bay would be near, and most streams ran to it. He climbed over a log, skirted an unusually tight cluster of trees, when he heard an all too familiar grunt, freezing him in his place. He flicked on his infravision, and about two spear throws away, he could make out the bulky frame of a bear. They'd detected each other at about the same time.
Ever since his run-in with the goddess, he'd made a promise to himself to never harm a bear unless it would keep him from dying. The bear sniffed him out, and slowly approached him, dark crimson on the light pinks of the sun. Rengar blinked the vision away, and watched the beast, who stopped and was now staring at him. Garren switched out with Rengar, much better at being intimidating. He made sure he stood at his full height, his arms out wide. The bear was undeterred, but also made no forward motion either, more curious than defensive. Garren stared it down, and started a low growl in his throat. The bear almost seemed to shrug, turn and leave, unperturbed by the purple man. Garren wondered if it had anything to do with Oriana's mark, or if the bear just didn't feel like getting into a fight.
He continued along an animal path, knowing they often led to water, when his nose picked up the crisp scent of falling water. He flicked on his infravision once more, and looked all around out in front of him. He saw the pinks, reds, and oranges that he normally saw on a sunny day, but just beyond a log, he spotted small puffs of blue, intermittent and easily missed. He switched back to his normal vision, and made his way that direction, when he started to feel tiny droplets on his face. Then he heard the crashing, and knew what he'd found even before he saw it. Stepping over the log, he found himself looking down at a bright blue pool fed by a small waterfall, maybe ten, twenty feet tall. The banks were sandy, the water deep, and all of it was encased in a little stone valley, with small trees and shrubs dotting the scape. And on the far bank, set in the stone, was a rather large cave.
Garren made his way down the steep, rocky face, careful to maintain his footing and balance, since his pack would make it extremely easy to tip and fall. Inch by inch, hands clutching to stone, his feet passed each other, boots kicking away loose stones before stepping down. He eventually made it to the sandy bottom. He eyeballed the water, quickly dismissing it as too deep for a reliable crossing. He looked upstream, and it didn't look much better, and the water fall was too powerful and close to the cliff face to sneak by. He set down his pack and leaned against a tree wondering if he should try to head down stream and circle back. It could waste a lot of time but would be safer. His thoughts were interrupted by something falling and bouncing lightly off his head. His hand shot out to try and catch the object, but it bounced away, and bobbed into the water. A nut of some sort. Garren looked up above, "What do you think brother?"
"Can't be the worst idea you've had."
He moved his pack far from the tree, then grabbed his hatchet. He sized up the tree, which was tall, though not overly so, and quite bushy, with several nuts in its branches. He wasn't sure as to what kind they were, but nuts were nuts. Thankfully the tree leaned toward the stream, and had no exposed roots. He sunk his blade once in the tree, and received a satisfying thonk sound, indications of a living tree. He used his infravision to check the branches for animals, seeing nothing other than a couple of birds roosting and singing, a habit learned from the wee little Svasra up in Avanthal all those years ago. He smiled, it was amazing the amount of things children could teach an adult if they paid attention.
He lined himself parallel with the west face of the tree, got his feet good and planted and stretched himself out, hatchet in hand, as he swiveled his torso back and forth. He slipped off the cover of the hatchet, quickly inspected the blade, which was in mint condition as always, for he took great care of his tools. His hands slipped into their familiar spots near the bottom, in the smoothed grooves made by constant use. He aimed at a spot halfway up his thighs, took a single, target practice swing, then powerfully, fluidly, his muscles coiled from his knees, thighs, hips, torso, shoulders and arms. He released it, sending the steel blade biting deep into the wood, right where he'd wanted it, wood chips and bark spraying out. Thonk, thonk, thonk, pause. He cleared out the narrow notch he'd made, then continued.
After he'd gotten halfway through on the north face, he lined his body parallel to the east face, and started a wider, shallower notch on the south face. This wood was soft, green, even a bit moist, as it fell away in chips. Would make a lot of smoke and steam if burned, but he suspected would add a good flavor to meat. He continued swinging from the hip, a slight bend in his knees, shoulders and arms working hard, chips making a nice pile around the trunk. Then the tree shuddered, and Garren knew it was that moment, the calm before the storm, the silence before the ambush. He pushed against the tree with his shoulder, until he heard it crack, shards of wood exploding from the notches. It began leaning further and further toward the stream, then with a thundering boom, it snapped completely, its branches exploding in a flurry of leaves and nuts on the opposite bank. Garren smiled, gathered up his pack, stepped up on the new stump, then onto the fallen trunk. Because it wasn't wet yet, the impromptu bridge wasn't slippery, and it wasn't too hard to maintain his balance as he crossed. The tree wasn't even blocking the water, so the stream was unbothered, continuing its flow. When he made it to the opposite bank, he set down his pack and hatchet against the rock face next to the cave, grabbed his throwing axe and battle axe, and sat down, resting before he inspected the cave for animals or enemies. |
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by Strig on April 15th, 2013, 7:45 pm 
