43rd of fall, 513 a.v.
The sun was fast descending, and the plains were awash with a cool and steady wind. The creatures of the day hastened to complete their labor and scurry into their homes, safe from the creatures of the night that would soon be stirring. Syna was a hair’s breadth away from the unbroken skyline, though it would be half an hour yet before she set the clouds on fire.
Shahar had taken position on a hill—or at least, the closest one could come to one in the Sea of Grass, meaning that it was really no more than a rise in the land that happened to provide an ample view of the surrounding expanses. A small stream curled halfway around its base, a stream by which the hunter had chosen to set up his camp proper. It was there that the three tents were set up in a half-circle around a firepit, guarded by a dark Strider that was really only interested in dozing so close to night. A low fire blazed there, over which hung the pot and what would soon be dinner.
His fire, however, was at the top of the hill, and if a traveler could some how not see the fire when they neared then they would surely be able to see the smoke.
Every now and then Shahar would travel down the hill to here he was soaking grass in the stream. Once added to the fire, the grass would hiss and crackle and send a thicker, darker billow of smoke into the sky, accentuating the plume to whomever might have been looking for it.
The sun was fast descending, and the plains were awash with a cool and steady wind. The creatures of the day hastened to complete their labor and scurry into their homes, safe from the creatures of the night that would soon be stirring. Syna was a hair’s breadth away from the unbroken skyline, though it would be half an hour yet before she set the clouds on fire.
Shahar had taken position on a hill—or at least, the closest one could come to one in the Sea of Grass, meaning that it was really no more than a rise in the land that happened to provide an ample view of the surrounding expanses. A small stream curled halfway around its base, a stream by which the hunter had chosen to set up his camp proper. It was there that the three tents were set up in a half-circle around a firepit, guarded by a dark Strider that was really only interested in dozing so close to night. A low fire blazed there, over which hung the pot and what would soon be dinner.
His fire, however, was at the top of the hill, and if a traveler could some how not see the fire when they neared then they would surely be able to see the smoke.
Every now and then Shahar would travel down the hill to here he was soaking grass in the stream. Once added to the fire, the grass would hiss and crackle and send a thicker, darker billow of smoke into the sky, accentuating the plume to whomever might have been looking for it.