Her body shivered in protest as her arms stretched for the sky, trying to banish the lethargy from her tired muscles. The sun crept her first tendrils of light across the horizon, setting the land in a mixture of inky shadows and beautiful golds. The moon was still visible in the sky, but only just. It was day's turn to chase the chill from the air. Arundel could taste the coming of fall on her tongue. Cool moisture clung to the grass, and glittered in the slowly increasing sunlight. She hummed in the back of her throat as her back popped deliciously. That'll do it. Her breath escaped in a relieved sigh. Just what she'd needed. In the back of her mind, the horrible reality that winter would be fast approaching tried to rear its ugly head to ruin her fine mood. She quickly shoved the thoughts away, refusing to think about running noses, sneezing, and blistering cold winds.
Today would be a good day. The Drykas forced herself to repeat that manta over and over until she convinced herself to halfway believe it. She was careful not to think of winter as she went back inside her family's pavilion to retrieve her gear. She was in the mood to try her hand at some hunting. Arundel was sure that her endeavor would be a complete flop, but that wouldn't stop her from giving it a shot. Her skills with her spears - which were all now bundled neatly under her arm as she picked way toward her family's grazing ground - was pretty laughable at best. She wasn't confident that she could hit anything smaller than a nabato. The thought alone made her cheeks heat with embarrassment. Her skills with animals were better yet, but those along wouldn't propel her into the ranks of the illustrious Watch.
Arundel's pack thumped rhythmically against her back with each purposeful stride. Her tent was rolled up tight and tied to the top of that, and a stake kept poking uncomfortably against her shoulder. Everything else - except the full waterskin bouncing on her hip - was stuffed down tight in the backpack. Torches, bedroll, blanket, etc. She felt pretty well prepared, but planned on only being away for only a single night. Upon arrival at where her family's horses grazed, she stuck two fingers in her mouth against her tongue and blew. The shrill whistle sounded similar to the cry of a bird, and instantly her mare's big head popped up among the backs of the herd. The answering whinny made her smile, and she observed as Juniper muscled her way through the throng of grazing bodies, and galloped full-tilt toward the waiting Drykas.
Arundel held up her hands in greeting as the Seme thundered to a stop, tossing her head and snorting. Her velvety nose reached out and explored her rider's cheek, and her hot breath tickled her skin. "Hello, beautiful," Arundel murmured, signing the words for greetings and love. She dropped everything she was carrying on the ground and began to tack up. Her riding pad was the color of her clan - amethyst - with darker purple embroidery making a border of tangled Drykas knotwork all the way around the edges. Beads of various colors - from white to more shades of purple - were sewn tactfully to the pad, in a tasteful pattern that looked like a storm.
Next the yvas was buckled on. The tent was attached just behind the handles, and she transferred most of the less important items into the yvas bags before hanging those on hooks at the mare's withers. Arundel shook one of the handles to make sure the entire thing was secure, and Juniper rocked from the pressure. It was tight enough. "We're going for a short trip, but we'll be back tomorrow," the Drykas explained absently, as she added the finishing touch. Her small bundle of spears was tied securely to the Seme's right shoulder, and finally they could be off. Her backpack was slung once more onto her shoulders, and Arundel positioned herself on her horse's left side.
Her fingers clutched a fistful of dark mane, and with a much practiced swing, threw herself up onto Juniper's broad back. Before she was even settled firmly behind the tent at the base of the mare's broad withers, she started walking with purposeful excitement. It wasn't often they went on jaunts that would take them away for more than just a handful of bells. Juniper knew what that tent on her back meant. Arundel grinned and squeezed her flank with her left heel, cuing the mare to pivot in the other direction - toward the sun. As the tents and pavilions of Endrykas began to thin, she urged her mount into a steady, ground-eating trot. Her hips rocked easily with the smooth movement. Junipter was a dream to ride. Her body was broad and easy to grip with her thighs. The downward slope behind her withers was rounded by muscle and fat, then swelled gently into a round, heart-shaped butt.
When the last border pavilion was behind them, Arundel let her speed up fractionally with a squeeze of her thighs. The sounds of smells of their waking city were still on the wind though, when Junipter suddenly balked. Arundel gasped and grabbed the yvas handled in front of her. "Wha-?" she started to sputter in confusion, but grunted as the Seme broke into a fit of violent crow-hopping. Her mouth hung open, the exclamation of whoa frozen before it could leave her lips. Juniper's neck arched and she snorted in fear, dancing quickly to the side and twisting recklessly. With one final, powerful buck with her back legs, Arundel came unglued and sailed right over the top of her pinned back ears. The air left her body on impact, and she jarred her hip painfully. It must be what a newborn feels like after just being born. For a moment the Drykas couldn't remember how to breathe, or move.
She floundered awkwardly, dazed and confused. Finally, she drew in a large lungful. Arundel coughed violently, but shook with relief. "For the love of Gods," she murmured, rolling onto her smarting side. And what in Zulrav's name is that sound? It made the fine hairs along her muscular body stand on end. Her scalp prickled uneasily, and her heart thudded a little faster. Curiosity propelled her onto her hands and knees, and she tentatively crawled forward through the stiff grass. It itched against her skin, and slowly the dry, high pitched rattling grew closer. Suddenly the memory flooded back, and for a short moment she was eight years old again. Arundel could see that rattlesnake curled up in her path as clear as day. It chilled her blood, and her skin crawled. Yet still her curiosity drove her forward.
She heard the feline snarl next, and reached the edge of the petite clearing in which the showdown was about to take place. Her fingers parted the grass like a curtain, and there she saw them. The black cat - no larger than a domesticated pet - her dead quarry, and the invading serpent. It was a massive rattler, with pitiless eyes and an eager tongue that tasted the air. Its body tensed, starting to coil as if readying to strike. The air was filled by the dangerous song played by its fat, club-like tail. The black cat's fur stood on end. Run! Was it really going to face down this venomous serpent? Maybe it was desperate for food. Arundel's green eyes raked over the cat's body. It looked healthy enough. Then why? The snake hissed, and cold chills caressed her sun-kissed skin. Quickly, she looked around for something - anything to grab. There! A stick had fallen from the branches of a nearby tree. It was half as thick as her wrist, but not very long.
Her mouth went dry just imaging inching closer to the snake. She'd almost been bitten by the one all those years ago, but her father's stallion had trampled the deadly creature into oblivion. That strider would kill a snake quicker than a Drykas could blink. Arundel was just grateful she'd been around the horses at that time, and not alone. Trying to be silent, her fingers closed around the rough bark. It was heavy in her hand - like a club. Just as the serpent was rearing its ugly, angular head, Arundel lunged from the grass behind its prone, coiled body and brought the stick down atop it with all the force she could muster in a two-handed chop. Her face twisted in a savage grimace as the makeshift club made impact. Its body writhed wildly, the pain making it thrash without direction.
Arundel gasped through clenched teeth and flinched away, fearing a bite. But she'd broken the rattler's spine, and it was in the throes of death. Still, she kept back. Even a stray, reflexive bite could end everything. What a horrible way to start a day.
