[The Bronze Woods] When It Rains...

by **Nathaniel Deveraux** on October 19th, 2013, 4:17 am

Day 54, Season Spring, 505 AV

It was quiet. Syna's rays filtered softly through the green of the canopy above, and a solitary hunter was making his way through the dirt and grass, occasionally stopping to attempt to observe his surroundings. The forest was alive with sound, birds chirped in the trees above them and the wind rustled in the leaves around them. Yet despite this, the place still felt quiet and hushed, like the world was holding its breath.

Nathaniel had been in the woods for nearly a Bell, and had not found anything. Since the death of his father, he had become the sole breadwinner in the family, yet he was not nearly as skilled a hunter as his father was. But this was not the time to be worrying about that. Nate girded himself, hefting the Kukri in his belt as he ran his hand across its handle. It was a nervous tick he never quite lost, ever since he received the blade from his father nearly a week ago.

His attempts at tracking game had been a dismal failure. The forest floor was covered in leaves, sticks, and dirt, but it all looked the same to him, and he did not have his father's gift for stealth. He'd been stomping through the forest, probably frightening off half the quarry just through noise alone, but the day had been painfully slow and without his father's guiding hand to help, he just didn't know what to do.

Noticing a small indentation in the ground, Nate padded over, using his Kukri to shift aside the leaves to reveal what appeared to be some form of track. The dirt had been covering much of the track, so he couldn't tell what had made it. And honestly, even if he'd seen the full print, he probably still wouldn't know what made it. When he had gone hunting with his father it was always him who did all the tracking, not Nate.

Deciding to follow the mystery trail, Nate kept his eyes peeled for other signs up ahead. The indentation was lengthwise, so he decided to follow that direction and see if there was another one further up. He walked for perhaps a few feet before he saw another, similar indentation in the soft, loamy soil beside a smaller elm tree. Suppressing a grin, Nate continued on forward, but after a few meters he stopped. He had not seen another print, so he turned back around. Perhaps whatever animal made it had made a turn somewhere.

by **Nathaniel Deveraux** on October 19th, 2013, 4:38 am

The print he'd seen before was still there, next to the elm, and was not at any particular angle. Nate was stuck. Which way had it gone? And he still didn't know what sort of animal produced this print. With his rather laughable weaponry skills, Nate wasn't sure he'd even be able to hit it with his bow. And he was quite sure his skill with the Kukri was nonexistent; his father never had time to train him in its use.

Hefting the somewhat heavy blade in his hand, Nate decided to do some systematic searching, to look for the cousins of the track he'd found. Since it was not directly ahead, he suspected perhaps it was to one of the sides. Sweeping to the left, Nate searched in a grid pattern, traveling a few yards forward, peering at the ground, before returning to where he was and shifted his direction a few feet. It took the better half of a Bell before he finally found the brother track, and Nate grumbled under his breath.

It was likely the animal, whatever it was, had long fled by now. It was almost certainly no longer in the general vicinity, but maybe Nate could get some inkling from further tracks waht exactly the animal was. One thing he noticed though, he hadn't located any other evidence the animal passed through. Granted, he didn't know what he was looking for, but he made a guess that most animals tended to leave other traces of their existance. Scat, fur, hair, other such things, which of course to be fair he might have just missed, and even if he had found said evidence he wouldn't know what animal produced it. Still, Nate thought it was strange to have not found any of it at all.

Another indentation, a bit larger this time, with a defined oval shape, but it was also partially obscured, this time by a large patch of grass that cut it in half. Nick considered the location for a moment, trying to think what sort of game would come here, in the pattern he'd just walked. But he just didn't know all the animals as well as he really should. The locale looked familiar though. Had he been here before? It was not really a secret that Nate was an awful guide. He got lost so often his sisters joked that he learned to survive in the wilds because he couldn't find his way home. Sadly, at times that was in fact actually true.

In any case, the track was at least in the right direction, so Nate proceeded to walk a few feet forward, fully expecting another indentation. There wasn't anything immediately obvious, so he walked another few feet. Still nothing. Nate cursed. He had to go back, and change direction, yet again.

by **Nathaniel Deveraux** on October 19th, 2013, 4:51 am

Once again, Nate found himself staring down at the print, glaring at it as though that would make it reveal its secrets to him. He could, of course, waste yet another Bell combing the area for this print's brother, but he'd already wasted so much time doing this. He was really just better off giving up on it, and tracking something else. But in his combing for prints that matched the indentation he'd seen, he hadn't caught sight of any other tracks, so it wasn't like he exactly had other leads to go on. Nate's stomach rumbled in agreement, and he could only think of his twin sisters at home, just as hungry as he. He needed to find food for his family, and soon.

It was another twenty chimes before Nate finally found a faint track. Or at least it looked like a track, but it was in the dust, and a brief gust of wind wiped out yet more of it until it looked more like a random pattern produced by, perhaps, a fallen pine cone. But Nick was undeterred. This was the closest he had to a trail and he was determined to follow it to its end. So he continued to follow it, which fortunately it continued down the dry dirt, the impressions becoming less and less distinct, and then made an almost sharp right turn. Too sharp.

No.

Nate had been concentrating so much on the ground, he wasn't looking at his surroundings. He wasn't taking in where he was; part and parcel of being as his sisters called it, "navigationally challenged." He simply didn't pay much attention to location when his focus was trained on something, be it a target to shoot his arrows at, or a trail he was trying to follow.

And it was so obvious now. Why there were no furs, no hairs, no scat trails. Why the path seemed to follow a nonsensical pattern. Why the turn back there had been so precise, so sharp. There was the indentation in the soil he'd first seen. And the small elm tree where he'd seen the second.

He'd been tracking himself. And wandering in circles.

With a scream of frustration, Nate swung his father's Kukri in an angry arc, hitting a nearby branch and hacking it off. Deciding to just vent his frustration, he hacked repeatedly at that brush, chopping, hacking, and slashing until it was so much tinder. Feeling somewhat better after seeing the devastation he'd wrought on the hapless wood, Nate sighed and walked off, not really choosing a direction. He still needed to find game. And the Bells of the day were rapidly slipping away.

by **Nathaniel Deveraux** on October 19th, 2013, 5:44 am

Deciding that tracking himself wasn't the best use of his time, Nate adjusted his strategy somewhat. He figured, that perhaps it was best to see if he couldn't make the game come to him. Most animals worth hunting liked to drink from ponds and other such watering holes, so he figured if he could find such a watering hole and stalked it, sooner or later a creature worth hunting would show up. Or at least so he hoped.

Nate noticed that the damp, earthy smell of the forest seemed to get stronger, and he could hear the soft lapping sound of a body of water up ahead. Winding his way around several large oaks, Nate was greeted with the sight of a fair-sized pond, the water clear to the bottom, and seemingly fed by a small stream that was on the opposite side. The pond had several smaller estuaries that branched out in various directions, but the main body of water shimmered and sparkled before him in the midday sun.

Nate walked carefully along the shore, eyes peeled for any signs of animals, such as trampled grass, or a large quantity of flattened dirt, or just a lot of animal tracks coming and going. For awhile, the trees were too close to the water and none of the aforementioned signs seemed to have any interest in appearing. But after another ten or so feet the forest seemed to open up into a small clearing, and Nate found what he was looking for.

It looked as though this was a fairly well-traveled watering hole since there seemed to be a small game trail leading away from the water. The moist dirt held tracks fairly well, and Nate could see small indentations implying some sort of cloven-footed animal. He desperately hoped it was a deer or a goat; their fairly large bodies would make it easier on him to catch them. Hefting his shortbow, Nate decided to stick his Kukri back into his belt, and bent down to pick up the wet mud, slapping some on his face and hands.

It was crucial that his prey not be able to smell him, and even though Nate intended to stay downwind, a simple shift in the wind's direction could spell disaster for him if he did not cover up his scent. There was little he could do to hide his actual physical form; Nate had seen some of the more capable hunters wearing suits that had bits of leaves and vines and branches woven into them, to break up their outline, but he was not nearly skilled enough to create such a suit.

Lying prone near the treeline, Nate now entered the most boring part of hunting: waiting. He briefly considered following the tracks he'd found leading away from the watering hole but, he figured he didn't know how long ago those tracks were made. It could have been chimes, it could have been bells, and he'd rather not waste more time than he already had, chasing a buck or a goat that had already vacated the area a long time ago.

So instead he waited, and waited. Chimes passed like bells and he cast about for something to occupy his mind, something to do while he watched the watering hole for any signs of activity. Nate didn't dare move. If he moved from this location, he'd give it away to any animal that might have been approaching the watering hole, not to mention the noise of doing so would likely frighten off any game that potentially could have appeared. His breath was measured and slow, his eyes rapidly scanning from the shoreline to the treeline and back. Another bell would pass before a small amount of movement caught Nate's attention. It was a young buck, dapper brown coat shining in the sunlight, and it approached the water cautiously. Nate grinned and quietly got up.

Notching an arrow, Nate drew the arrow back, to his elbow. Closing his left eye, he carefully observed the buck as it continued to drink the water peacefully. He didn't know how long the deer was going to drink, and he didn't dare wait too long or it was going to run off. But still, Nate knew his aim with his weapon was just shy of horrendous. He knew how to notch the arrow and draw, and he knew how to aim, but at the moment, hitting his target was as much luck as it was skill.

Fortunately, the buck was not moving, which gave Nate a chime or two to really aim carefully. Nate could feel the strain in his arms as they tried to hold the string taut against the arrow, his hands beginning to tremble with the effort. He couldn't hold this for too long, or the shaking of his hands would throw off his aim. Releasing his breath, Nate let the arrow fly, and it sailed across the distance... and landed with a soft "plop" next to the buck, which instantly took to its feet and fled. Nate swore and cursed, angry stormclouds on his face as he stomped over to retrieve his arrow from the loamy soil.

by **Nathaniel Deveraux** on October 19th, 2013, 6:32 am

Nate wasn't actually all that surprised he'd missed. He wasn't the best shot and he was well aware of that, but he'd hoped that he would at least hit the creature in the flank, or something. The buck had been a fairly large, immobile target, he should have been able to hit it! Furious about his apparently appalling aim, Nate bit his bottom lip, then walked over to the tree line and selected one of the sturdier, broader oaks. Taking the Kukri from his belt, he hacked at the bark, making sure to not slam the side of the weapon against the hard wood, but to chip away at the tough bark until it gave way. Once it did, he began peeling at it, until finally the bark gave way completely, and Nate peeled off a large section, leaving the tender, lighter flesh of the tree beneath.

This was to be his "target". It was not nearly as good as an actual target, but it would have to suffice. Taking the arrow that had so rudely missed its mark, Nate gritted his teeth and notched it once more to the bow, drawing it back and aiming at the white patch on the otherwise gnarly brown of the oak. Realizing he was canting the bow slightly, Nate attempted to straighten it out, using the trunk of the trees behind his target as a guide to ensure the bow was not tilted overmuch. He also adjusted his aim slightly; the shot at that buck had been off to the left, so perhaps he was aiming too far in that direction.

After a few more ticks, Nate decided enough was enough, and he released the arrow, watching it sail across the gap and miss the tree entirely, landing in the grass behind it. Letting loose another string of curses, Nate marched over and retrieved the arrow once more, huffing out a breath as he strode past the makeshift target he'd made. Of course he'd miss the buck if he was shooting like this! It would be a minor miracle if he hit anything at all! Nate sighed as he bent over to pick the arrow back up. He really needed a great deal more practice, but for today he just wanted to hit that petching target just once!

Nate strode back to where he had been standing before, and took aim once again. He adjusted even further to the right, making a note that he probably needed to watch his cant, since he seemed to like canting the bow a bit to the left despite his efforts not to do that. Taking a deep breath, Nate aimed again at the tree, waiting for several ticks before releasing the arrow. It sang across toward the tree, striking it with a solid-sounding "thunk!". It did not strike the treee anywhere near where Nate had been aiming, of course, instead hitting it somewhat off to the side, and quite a bit lower than he'd have preferred. But he had hit it.

Resisting the urge to whoop, Nate smiled as he walked over, wiggling the arrow a bit to loosen it from the wood. He would need to do this sort of practice a lot more often, but right now he desperately needed something to deliver back in Syliras, or he and his sisters would not be eating tonight. Turning back to the place where he'd seen those tracks, Nate trotted over to take a closer look.

by **Nathaniel Deveraux** on October 19th, 2013, 6:59 am

For the first couple of yards the tracks were a complete jumbled mess that Nate couldn't make heads nor tails of. It made sense since an innumerable number of animals must have used this trail over the course of days, perhaps even weeks, and trying to distinguish which of the tracks belonged to what animal when was an impossible task for him. Nonetheless, it gave him a good starting point, and was so highly visible it was nearly impossible for him to miss the trail or be unable to follow it. But the further and further he strayed from the watering hole, the more diffuse the tracks became, until he was forced to choose one of the tracks and follow it to the exclusion of the others.

He chose a small, three-spot print that rather reminded him of a paw of some sort. He had no idea what sort of animal would produce a print of that shape, but it certainly wasn't a deer. He knew enough to know that deer had hooves, not paws, so couldn't have left these particular tracks. It occured to Nate, briefly, that he was not nearly of sufficient skill to take on whatever animal left this paw print, but he figured that if it were a jaguar or cougar or something along those lines, he could perhaps back away and run off before the animal could attack. Or at least so he hoped.

The trail seemed to end near a large tree, where the soil became somewhat rockier and less prone to prints. The trail could have branched off in almost any direction, so Nate took a twig from the ground, and jammed it lengthwise into the ground near where the animal tracks had first came into the pebbly area, and then made a slow, steady circle around the tree, checking the edge of the rockier area, seeing if he could pick up signs of the trail again. The trail, it turned out, did not pick up straight across, but rather at a fairly steep angle, branching off to the left. Nate also smelled the very strong odor of urine, which meant whatever had left these tracks had recently marked the area.

Urine trails, as Nate understood it, usually evaporated fairly quickly, leaving it nearly undetectable except to creatures with far more sensitive noses than he had. Which meant whatever left this trail was still around, and nearby. The ground had now become a more mossy green, and the trail became harder and harder to follow, but it also lead toward a large outcropping of rocks with what looked to be a small hollow. It was very likely that whatever made the tracks called that place home.

Moving cautiously forward, Nate notched an arrow, but didn't draw it. He needed positive confirmation of his quarry before he'd draw the bow, since he knew he was so likely to miss to begin with. A bird shrieked overhead, and Nate started, and as he did so a blur of yellow and black leaped at him from the left, bowling him over in a whirlwind of muscle, teeth, and claws.

by **Nathaniel Deveraux** on October 19th, 2013, 7:19 am

Nate very nearly panicked. It was an easy emotion to feel at that moment, as the lynx had completely blindsided and surprised him. He had just enough time to roll to prevent the lynx from getting a very good angle with its jaws on his neck, but despite its smaller size the feline was just as tenacious as a cougar and continued to scratch at him with its claws, yowling the entire time in outrage at his intrusion upon its domain.

The situation was rather dire at this point. Nate elbowed the feline in the ribs as hard as he could, trying to get as much space as possible, then elbowed it again as it pressed in closer, jaws snapping at him. Finally, after a few more ticks of struggle, Nate was able to reach his Kukri, jammed into his belt, and drew it. It was very dangerous to swing around a weapon as dangerous as that in such close quarters, but Nate really had no choice. Slashing wildly, he brought the curved blade of the Kukri across the back and shoulders of the animal on top of him.

With a furious cry, the lynx lept off of him, but not before scratching him with its claws across his forearm. Nate winced at the pain; he knew he needed to treat the scratches he received or else not bringing home any pelts would be the least of his problems tonight. Fortunately, his wild swing managed to do some fairly substantial damage to the lynx, whose shoulders were bleeding from the gash he managed to inflict upon it. With one final angry hiss the lynx bounded off, and despite the urge to follow, Nate knew his own injuries needed to take precedence.

He'd recieved numerous small scratches all over his arms and chest, but those could be ignored for now in favor of the large one across his left forearm. The scratches showed up as a set of angry marks across his flesh, and if left untreated could turn septic and cause serious health issues, perhaps even result in death. Nate took several deep, calming breaths. He needed to not panic. He remembered the three S's of emergency care: Sanitize, Sterilize, Stabilize.

He needed to first sanitize the wound, make sure gross infectants like dirt, debris, and other such things were washed out of it. Taking his waterskin, he carefully poured water over the wound to rinse out any such infecting agents from the immediate area. Next was to sterilize the wound, and hopefully halt or blunt any infection that might have already taken root in the affected area. He looked about the area for any plants or herbs he could use for such a purpose; if he could not find any he knew he had to cut his hunting expedition short and make way back to Syliras immediately.

He should probably do that anyway, Nate mused, but he really wanted to treat his wound first, because the golden bell between injury and treatment was rapidly diminishing with each passing tick. Looking around the area, Nate couldn't see any plants that might help him, so he gingerly slid his Kukri back into his belt, gingerly picked up his dropped bow, and headed back toward Syliras.

by **Nathaniel Deveraux** on October 19th, 2013, 7:35 am

As he walked, Nate wondered what he would say to his siblings. How could he explain that their brother had failed, yet again, to bring home anything of value? How could he explain that he couldn't risk an infection out here in the Bronze Woods, where the smell of blood was probably already attracting all the wrong sorts of attention? It was impossible. The girls were too young to understand. All they would understand was that they were going hungry again tonight. And Nate felt a cold knot form in his stomach. That had become an all too common an occurrence. Anger mixed with fear mixed with frustration threatened to overwhelm him. If only there was something he could do...

Nate almost missed the gentle stems and white, circular flowers of the yarrow blossoms. The delicate flowers bloomed white and pink, and the long stems had leaves at regular intervals all the way up to the blossom at the top. Nate knew the oil of the Yarrow plant's leaves were excellent for battling infection, so he quickly brought out his Kukri and, grasping the stem of the Yarrow, quickly chopped off a few stalks of it. Then he stripped the leaves off of the stalks he'd harvested, and rubbed them gently against his wound, making sure to not scrub. Nate knew this was really only a stopgap measure, but at least with the disinfectant abilities of the Yarrow, he could delay sepsis and allow himself sufficient time to get back to the city.

He now needed to check himself to ensure he did not need to stabilize himself. It did not seem like he did. He did not detect any irregular heartbeat, nor an elevated heart rate, nor uneven breathing. The wound hurt, but it was a dull, aching throb, not the sharp, violent pain of infected flesh. Nate knew, however, that simply rubbing the leaves of Yarrow against his arm was not going to be sufficient.

Taking a clean cloth from his rucksack, Nate made sure to douse it in the alcohol he kept in his secondary waterskin before wrapping it around his arm. As he wrapped it, Nate was careful to ensure the wrapping was firm, but not tight. He intended to bandage, not tie a tourniquet, after all. As he plodded forward, Nate tried as hard as he could to remember where he'd gone today. As the welcoming walls of Syliras gradually came into view, peeking through the trunks of the trees, Nate breathed a sigh of relief. That lynx might have gotten the best of him today, he mused, but not for long.

He would be back.

~Fin~

by **Perplexity** on October 19th, 2013, 6:30 pm

Riddled with Rewards!

Nathaniel

Observation	+3 XP
Tracking	+3 XP
Hunting	+3 XP
Land Navigation	+1 XP
Weapon: Kukri	+3 XP
Camouflage	+1 XP
Weapon: Short Bow	+3 XP
Medicine	+2 XP
Herbalism	+2 XP
Botany	+1 XP

Lores :

Notes :

Completed [The Bronze Woods] When It Rains...