Solo Autumn Solace

[Viridae Kabre]

Timestamp: Day 17, fall, 513 AV
Location: The Unforgiving
Purpose: Hunting

Third day into the hunt, the rain had started. Although this was good, because the woods would be alive with game after it ceased, Viridae was very irritated. He was on his way into a deeper valley, cut by a thick river and swarming with fish, where he planned on bagging a few deer and maybe even a bear.

He continued to hike through the downpour, at least until he was far enough away from the river to avoid being flooded, and set up camp, hanging his possessions in his tent from a pine tree, and built a makeshift wind screen from live pine branches near the base of the tree's trunk.

The small animal snares he had set managed to produce a rabbit and a squirrel, and here at his camp beneath a large pine, he proceeded to skin the animals and dice the meat, before crushing it between two rocks to form a meaty paste, throw it in a cooking pot with half a jar of traveler's stock, and fill the pot with water. He started a small fire using hair from the pine tree, fed by dead branches, and set the stew to boil.

[Viridae Kabre]

As the food cooked, the sun sank into the treeline, lighting the sky with organge and purple before it regained its composure and spread and inky dark blue. The stars emerged as well as a sliver of the moon, and night time animals began their usual calls.

Viridae took his thick stew off of the fire and added a bit of water from his water sack to cool the broth, before beggining to sip on it. The taste was hearty with spice, rich with the flavors of rabbit meat, and enough to warm him from inside out. How simple life was in this moment, escaping thoughts of depression, of longing, of social pressure, of poverty, of everything except the scerenity of The Unforgiving.

Before retiring, Viridae doused his fire, cleanded his cooking tools and hunting knife, and releaved his bladder in a far away bush. With that, he climbed gracefully into the pine tree and slid down the narrow silk chute into the black hanging silk tent. Sleep came easily tonight, after curling into a ball and thanking Viratas for the gift of his life, career, and this moment of solice. As he closed his eyes, he focused on the silver moon, shining through the thin walls of silk, shining a promise of a brighter day to come.

[Viridae Kabre]

Viridae awoke the next morning to the sickning sound of growling below him, and a slight rattle in the branch that held him suspended in the tree. His eyes snapped open, and a scrowl crossed his brow as he realized what was happening below him. Four wolves circled the trunk of his tree, growling and taking turns attempting to jump up the trunk. He was not afraid, the wolves were at least thirty feet below him and could not climb well by nature, but he felt stupid. The only way they could have found him here is if he was being followed during the day by the pack, and the idea that his hunter senses did not alert him to a lurking pack of predetors bothered him greatly.

He climbed out of the tent and perched on a branch a bit higher up, nocking an arrow and aiming it at the largest of the wolves. He (or she, possibly, but not likely) whas all white with a patch of light brown on his forehead, and a very thin line of the tawny fur linning its spine to the tip of its tail. He shot the wolf, sinking an arrow deep into its neck. It gave a whimper and laid down quickly into a natrual position, as if to show the others it was okay, and that the injury was minor. Viridae knew better. Drops of scarlett trickled from the wound, and he knew he did not hit the juggular, but the windpipe of the beast.

The other wolves crowded as the wolf bowed its heads and closed its eyes easily. After a few chimes, its chest was no longer expanding, and Viridae assumed it was dead. The wolves still circled, barking now as if they were furious. Just as one of them jumped for the trunk, Viridae sank another arrow into its hip. It whimperred and rolled across the ground, snapping the arrow. Dammit. The wolf skimpered towards the treeline, and the others followed, glancing at Viri over their shoulders. He smirked and climbed back into his tent, but sleep would not return. Instead, he stared at the dead wolf, laying as if it were having a casual snooze, and stayed like this until dawn cracked across the sky.

[Viridae Kabre]

As the skyline sucked up the sunlight, Viridae lept from the tree and landed gracefully before the wolf, pulling the arrow from its neck and sheething it in his quiver. He skinned the animal and folded the hide, stuffing it into his ruck sack, before dicing the meat and stuffing it in the empty jar from the traveler's stock. He took the skull, jaw bone, and a few ribs, and left the rest in that spot, before packing his things and continuing to the valley.

Although the morning had been cold, covering the ground in a thin sheet of frost, late morning had given way to clear skys and a burning sun. The frost melted to dew, and the air was thick with moisture and the ripe smell of fall. As he walked, Viridae picked a few berries he knew were safe and snacked on them, stepping scilently through a forest blanketed with leaves. His first sign of hope was a pile of ebony Elk nuggets, piled near a birch tree. It wasn't long before Viridae was following a thin game trail, dotted occasionally with the dark scat, and keeping his eyes peeled for game.

After a time, he spotted two cow and a large bull hovering over them. They were gnawing terminal buds from the large pines and wandering abscently through the wilderness. Viridae, having learned his lesson a while back with an agressive buck, crouched two hundred feet away, conceiled by a patch of devil's club that he was carefull not to touch. He knocked an arrow and shot the bull, sinking an arrow into its belly. It dashed off into the woods, and the cows scattered.

Viridae sighed and followed a trail of scarlet drops on the leaves. He had not shot very well this time.

[Viridae Kabre]

Tracking the bull was the most tiresome event of the day. The stubborn thing refused to bleed out, and led him a mile and a half off course. Of course, the payout of the beast's carcass was nice. Excellent rack, Thick hide, blemished only by a few round scars on the back legs and chest, signifying others had shot and only grazed or nicked the beast. Maybe it was good he hit it in the belly after all.

Viridae spent the remaining daylight hours dragging the bull towards the path he was traversing and hanging it high in a tree, wrapped in moss to mask its scent. He did not bother to skin it just yet, and trusted it would stay in good condition for at least a few days. After all, insects weren't as common in the fall as the summer or spring, worst case scenario is a vulture swoops down from the mountain and picks at the bull.

After walking through half the night, he set up camp beneath another pine in the same fashion as the other night, and set to work crushing the wolf meat. Now he was running low on water. Luckily, he was close to the river, and could re stock there.

This night was not nearly as eventful as the previous, although he was greeted by a variety of wolf spiders clinging to the outside of the silk tent. He did not mind, and wished them goodnight as he closed his eyes and settled into an easy slumber.

[Viridae Kabre]

Viratas came to him that night in place of the wolf woman, beckoning him to walk across a frozen lake. The surface of the lake was warm, and as he approached the center, he could see a hole cut into it, spanning about ten feet. As before, the water beneath was replaced with thick bright red blood.

He could also see Viratas more clearly, wearing a set of bright red leather armor, hair slicked back, ginger stubble poking out from his chin. His crimson eyes peered at Viridae. Viridae dropped to his knees on the ice and pushed his face into the unatrually warm top layer. There he stayed before Viratas placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered "Rise," in symenos with some odd touch of unatrual elegance in his voice. Or was it two voices? One was higher pitched and beautiful, the other a low growl, powerful, commanding fearful respect. Viridae stood slowly and looked to the pool of blood.

To his surprise, it was swirling with the carcasses of the beasts he had killed in the past, large and small, and even some he had never seen, but recognised from his father's stories. Beasts from far away lands, huge, with strange patterns, saber teeth, bladed feathers, and so on.

"These are the gifts I have given. The blood I have spared for you," said Viratas. The emphesis on the word YOU made it sound as though it implied more than just Viridae. "And I have not heard so much as a whispered thank you. You and yours have become too self centered, and comfortable in the beleif of self sustaining independence. This will change, or I will take what I have given, many times over."

The dawn woke Viridae from his slumber. Just a dream, nothing more, he told himself, but he could not shake the feeling of being watched. Worse he felt like he had a deeper understanding of something, like an epiphany, he just couldn't place it.

As he packed up his camp and set off for the final strech to the river, he understood better the dream, and accepted it as a reality. After all, Seivis claimed to have seen Viratas, and he had beleived her then. He walked through the flame colored forest on light feet, continuing his hunt.

[Viridae Kabre]

As the promise of the hunt's prosparity became apparent, the woods burst forth with life. Birds tweeted and zoomed through thin yellow trees, and the gurgle of the river could be heard. Viridae crouched and approached catiously.

As he broke the treeline, he could clearly see at least four small black bears fishing in the river. Fish jumped fourth from the white water, and soon found themselves snatched up by greedy claws and mouths. Gulls swarmed overhead to collect leftovers, and even the eagles had left their place high in the mountains to fish. He walked a bit downwind, and climbed high into a nearby birch tree, pulling three arrows from his quiver.

Viridae took a breath, and nocked an arrow, taking aim for the smallest and closest of the bears. During the fishing season, the bears were nearly oblivious to all but the river, and the others were far enough away to leave him be after the shot was taken. He focused a trained eye on the bear's shoulder blade. There is an artery there, and the beast was too deep in the water to attemp to charge him. more than likely it would just struggle to shore and scamper off into the woods.

Focus. He focused on the fundamentals of firing from a crouched position, making a steady triangle with his legs and bow arm. He focused on the slight wind and adjusted his aim accordingly. He focused on his breath, calm and steady. He drew the bow and exhaled, before rapid firing all three shots into the bear. The first struck just behind its shoulder blade, the seccond sunk into the back of its neck, and the third flew just over its head, landing in the river before beaing dragged downstream by the current. Dammit. Lost another arrow.

The bear stumbled towards the shore, and collapsed in the shallows, blood pooling around it. "Moz seh krevas dav'ene obris zhevat," he said quietly as he stared at the blood, remembering his dream. He truely was thankful for all he had, and began to feel guilty for not saying the phrase after past kills.

[Viridae Kabre]

Viridae waited in the tree until late evening, after the bears had moved further upstream. After they had dispersed, he glided down gracefully and retreived his arrows from the bear, filling and purifying his water, and securing the beast with rope and dragging it back into the tree line.

He continued like this until the sun had set, then found another large pine tree and set up camp. He skinned the bear and crushed the meat like he had done the night before, and ate bear stew with traveler's stock. Afterwards, he treated himself to pine needle and peach tea, before stuffing the skin into his rucksack, and climbing into his tent for bed.

He awoke once again to growling, and opened his eyes to see the last couple wolves circling the tree. This time when he climbed out of the tent, they instantly ran into the forest and vanished. To be safe, Viridae left a small fire burning in a home made pool of mud.

In the morning, he awkoe before the sun. Viridae packed his things and walked into the darkness, head held high, bags heavy with skin and skulls.

By high noon, he was back at the tree where he had stashed the deer. He climbed up and retreived it, swinging it over his shoulder, and continuing his hike home. The time passed quickly, and before long, he was lowering the deer down a hidden entrance with the silk rope. The hunt was more than successsfull, but now he was tired. Now he needed a good rest and a good meal, and maybe a bit of downtime.

[Poison]

Skills: Skinning 3, Cooking 2, Wilderness Survival 4, Climbing 3, Observation 4, Bow 4, Acrobatics 1, Tracking 2, Hunting 3, Stealth 1

Lores: Building a Wind Screen, Starting a Fire, Killing a Wolf, Protecting a killed Animal by Hanging it in a Tree, a Dream of Viratas

Notes: I didn’t give you any points in Trapping because you wrote that you found animals in your traps rather than writing about how you set up your traps. The points in Hunting are for the elks and bears as you weren’t hunting the wolves, but just shooting them while you were sitting in a tree.

I really enjoyed your descriptions of the wilderness. In fact I enjoyed them so much that I regret not having a PC who can hunt now.

If you have any problems with the way I graded your thread or think I might have missed something, send me a PM.


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