Time Stamp: 4th Day, Winter 513AV. The winter air chilled his marble skin and went straight through his shirt like shards of Inarta glass. He ignored it though, regardless of the fact that it made it difficult to gain purchase on the rough bark of the tree. Another day, another death-trap in the Bronze Woods, searching for any prey to take down and sell off. Or better yet, he could hunt down enough rabbits to make a little cloak out of, with a bit of help from some of the tailors around the castle. Yes.. he liked the idea of that. Though first he'd have to find the rabbits, and to find the rabbits, he needed to find a suitable perch on one of the stripped-bare trees to gain enough of a vantage to shoot them down when they came into view. He couldn't stalk very well - his movements were always very stiff, and he couldn't bend his back as much as he wanted to without it being very uncomfortable. Hunching was what peasants did, and he wasn't a peasant, he was a mighty hunter Ethaefal, majestic and beautiful and deadly. The branch snapped; he cursed silently under his breath and threw the useless thing down below, although thankfully he hadn't been putting all of his weight on the flimsy little branch, or he might have fallen from his precarious hold on the low-hanging branch. It wouldn't be much of a fall - but it'd be enough to make him very annoyed. He reached out for a second branch, but that one snapped too when he gripped it and exerted a small amount of force. They were all becoming flimsy - everything was dying, in this harsh season. Reluctantly, he kneeled somewhat on the branch and drew the bow from his shoulder, drawing an arrow from his quiver and slowly notching it against the drawstring, pulling it taut and taking a look over the area. Well, it wasn't very high.. but it would do. The cold wood offered little in terms of camouflage, but other than that, it would do its job. The arrow pointed at the ground directly beneath the tree, however, as he stared at the landscape and simply willed for something to arrive. He needed something, anything.. And then, there appeared a rabbit. Snow-white and hopping slowly along the ground, snuffling at the cold earth and scratching about with its long paws. It stuck out almost as much as he probably did, but he didn't pay attention to that; just lifted the bow, tightened the drawstring a little more than necessary, and whoosh. The unharmed rabbit hopped over the arrow that stuck at an angle in the dirt and merrily jumped off, without even much of a fright to it. Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later - he'd not even come close to the little rabbit, and that could have made a fine stew for later, too. "Shyke." It didn't really say much about how he felt, but it was still there. He considered getting down to fetch the arrow, but he could easily do it later, as long as he remembered where the arrow had fallen. For now, he drew another and pulled it taut, and waited again for another critter to openly display itself as quickly as the last one. And he knew already that he was in for a long day of sitting in a tree and working up a cramp like no other. |