45th of Spring 508AV
In the Unforgiving just beyond Pyconia
The sky was glowing orange and red as Syna’s rays graced the darken sky, the small survivalist found himself having remained awake during the pre-dawn bells. He was having trouble sleeping during Leth’s nightly reign, must’ve been the calls from the nightly creatures within. His small campfire before him was beckoning to be fed, but the pycon knew if he fed it he would be sitting here a bell later waiting to extinguish it. And that just would not do, he had things he needed to do, plans he had been calculating in his mind.
The clay man had been out in the wild for four days and the foolish young man decided he was going to drink his water in those first three days, the last drop had vanished down his throat some hours ago. The parched dry rasps in his throat as he breathed and coughed were enough to send chills of desperation down his clay body. He needed to figure out a way to gather water overnight so he could refill his skins in the morning. Something he could roll up and take with him. Spoons knew the piece of equipment he was thinking about was called, but he couldn’t afford to purchase one, let alone carry it with all the other pieces of his kit as well. So today Spoons decided to go out and fashion one of his own, a makeshift water trap, made of nature’s very own supply kit.
The embers before him were ashing over, their hot centers still burning bright, grasping handfuls of the moist dirt by his feet he tossed them onto the coals, listening to the heat hiss and crackle underneath the slowly mounding mass of earth on top of it. It didn’t take long, but Spoons knew he wasn’t finished with the resulting mound. Even if the fire he gave birth to during the night had reduced to ash and embers and he covered it the survivalist in him knew he couldn’t leave it like that, it wasn’t enough. There was always loose twigs and decaying bits of leaves and moss within each handful. Small pockets of fuel for the dying flames.
I am unfortunately out of water. He frowned. A stupid move on his behalf has crept up and smacked him in the face once again. Spoons sighed and stood, having prepared for this instance the young pycon had not relieved himself all night. After all, moisture was moisture and the need to extinguish his campfire was a must for not only his survival but the animals and plants around him.
Untying the fastening cord of his pants the pycon dropped his pants and paused, the coldness of the morning air sending shivers once more through his body. They passed quickly enough and Spoons did what nature had intended him to do.
The task was completed quickly, no need to draw out the obvious. Satisfied and relieved Spoons had quickly refastened his pants and turned to his makeshift campsite.
In the Unforgiving just beyond Pyconia
The sky was glowing orange and red as Syna’s rays graced the darken sky, the small survivalist found himself having remained awake during the pre-dawn bells. He was having trouble sleeping during Leth’s nightly reign, must’ve been the calls from the nightly creatures within. His small campfire before him was beckoning to be fed, but the pycon knew if he fed it he would be sitting here a bell later waiting to extinguish it. And that just would not do, he had things he needed to do, plans he had been calculating in his mind.
The clay man had been out in the wild for four days and the foolish young man decided he was going to drink his water in those first three days, the last drop had vanished down his throat some hours ago. The parched dry rasps in his throat as he breathed and coughed were enough to send chills of desperation down his clay body. He needed to figure out a way to gather water overnight so he could refill his skins in the morning. Something he could roll up and take with him. Spoons knew the piece of equipment he was thinking about was called, but he couldn’t afford to purchase one, let alone carry it with all the other pieces of his kit as well. So today Spoons decided to go out and fashion one of his own, a makeshift water trap, made of nature’s very own supply kit.
The embers before him were ashing over, their hot centers still burning bright, grasping handfuls of the moist dirt by his feet he tossed them onto the coals, listening to the heat hiss and crackle underneath the slowly mounding mass of earth on top of it. It didn’t take long, but Spoons knew he wasn’t finished with the resulting mound. Even if the fire he gave birth to during the night had reduced to ash and embers and he covered it the survivalist in him knew he couldn’t leave it like that, it wasn’t enough. There was always loose twigs and decaying bits of leaves and moss within each handful. Small pockets of fuel for the dying flames.
I am unfortunately out of water. He frowned. A stupid move on his behalf has crept up and smacked him in the face once again. Spoons sighed and stood, having prepared for this instance the young pycon had not relieved himself all night. After all, moisture was moisture and the need to extinguish his campfire was a must for not only his survival but the animals and plants around him.
Untying the fastening cord of his pants the pycon dropped his pants and paused, the coldness of the morning air sending shivers once more through his body. They passed quickly enough and Spoons did what nature had intended him to do.
The task was completed quickly, no need to draw out the obvious. Satisfied and relieved Spoons had quickly refastened his pants and turned to his makeshift campsite.