The group had been travelling for a long time. For far too long. A collection of Drykas of a variety of stations and positions, all on horseback, they’d been riding for… days. Days and days and days. The journey should have ended much sooner, with them finding the wandering bison and heading back… but for some strange reason the creatures kept eluding them. Someone had started complaining about the tracker’s lack of success, though the younger man insisted that they were following the same tracks. Still, they weren’t lost, as there was the path of webs that the moving city always followed on its circuit around the sea. This was the way it went in Spring. Spring… it really was Spring, this was the first day. When had they left? The seventieth? Something like that… they’d been riding for a long twenty days.
At first Oryani had been unused to the lengthy riding, earning herself saddle sores and aching legs despite her experience in riding. That had lasted a good ten days, but now? She was… fine. She barely noticed, despite the fact that she always felt a little tired and stiff when on Khal’s back. Luckily, the horses had held up well, and every few days they took an easy one, to rest the horses and themselves. The tracker complained, of course, insisting that they wouldn’t catch up to the bison at that pace… but what kind of bison could outrun a Strider in the Sea of Grass? These ones apparently, considering how elusive they’d been. Sometimes the Chatakwe felt like it was almost all a ruse, the tracker dragging them away from the city for some sinister purpose. It was a stupid thought, however, more like a campfire story than anything real.
Today was one of the easy days. The general consensus at this point was that they wouldn’t bother returning to Endrykas. They’d wait nearby Riverfall instead, with the bison (which they would have caught by then, of course) for the city to come to them. That was the glory of a moving city, one constantly drifting and changing depending on the season and tide. Oryani didn’t think she’d ever be able to stand staying in one place. Even her Chatakwe ancestors were nomads after all, though their path was a little more… varied. The tribes wandered through the deserts of Ekytols, staying in one place for a time if food or water was plentiful, and leaving when it was not.
Oryani sat comfortably on Khal’s back, moving with the horse up and done as they headed at a trot through the long grasses. Sometimes they were long, sometimes short… in this place they brushed her knees, when they weren’t stepped on by the stallion first. Both her animals had been enjoying the journey, however… Khal and Alaril. The eagle could sometimes be seen high in the sky, soaring so far above the ground that she was just a golden dot in a blue expanse. The bird always knew to come home, though, and many days Alaril came with prey. Not big enough, but maybe a hare or a bird, and once even a small fox. A big bird could take down big things, and eagles were the perfect predators. The hunters of the group had started praising the creature, betting on what would be brought back each day.
Someone called from the leftmost side of the group, waving their hands in a beckoning gesture. They all directed their horses in the woman’s direction, quickly packing tighter together to hear what had happened. ”Water, over here… we can water the horses now, and refill our skins.” The woman’s hand signing showed her happiness at the discovery, and there were a few grins all round. They’d run into a place where fresh water was rare, so a source was always valuable. Oryani herself had been skimping on the liquid, saving it for her bird and horse, or other members of the group. She’d had a mouthful the day before, but nothing for four days previously. She could go longer, of course, but there was no point pressing her limits. She always liked the feeling of having her water organ full and safe anyways. It was like being well stocked on supplies… Though you’d probably not run out with half a stock, you always felt more comfortable when it was full up. So, she followed the rest of them at a walk, patient enough to wait her turn for the liquid.
The source was really a small pool, bubbling up from the ground as some kind of spring. The water was fresh and cool and everyone drank it up thirstily, from horse to Drykas. Alaril even landed for once, perching at the side to take a few laps, though the bird was careful not to get her feathers wet. Oryani waited for last, as there wasn’t much room around the refreshing liquid, and maybe two horses and a human could fit comfortably. She slipped in when there was an opening, looping Khal’s reins over the back of his neck and the grip on her Yvas, so he could drink freely. The stallion gulped down even more than most, making loud sounds as he did so. When there was a space for herself Oryani moved in beside her Strider, kneeling on the shorter grass and pulling her water skin from her belt. She emptied it first, before refilling it and drinking it all once, twice, before she felt truly. Full. Only then did she fill it one last time and close it with the cork plug, saving it for later.
She stood to see Khal staring at her, the stallion having finished his drink. Affectionately she rubbed his nose, and was rewarded with a snuffle, the horse rubbing his soft nose and muzzle against her palm. She led the Strider away from the pool, checking to see that Alaril and everyone else had left, before finding a good place to mount up. She clutched the grip and swung one leg up, finding her seat just in time to hear the alarm. The warning. The voice was frightened and scared, wavering with the single word, though it was loud enough for all to hear.
”Zith!”
Wordcount1044
At first Oryani had been unused to the lengthy riding, earning herself saddle sores and aching legs despite her experience in riding. That had lasted a good ten days, but now? She was… fine. She barely noticed, despite the fact that she always felt a little tired and stiff when on Khal’s back. Luckily, the horses had held up well, and every few days they took an easy one, to rest the horses and themselves. The tracker complained, of course, insisting that they wouldn’t catch up to the bison at that pace… but what kind of bison could outrun a Strider in the Sea of Grass? These ones apparently, considering how elusive they’d been. Sometimes the Chatakwe felt like it was almost all a ruse, the tracker dragging them away from the city for some sinister purpose. It was a stupid thought, however, more like a campfire story than anything real.
Today was one of the easy days. The general consensus at this point was that they wouldn’t bother returning to Endrykas. They’d wait nearby Riverfall instead, with the bison (which they would have caught by then, of course) for the city to come to them. That was the glory of a moving city, one constantly drifting and changing depending on the season and tide. Oryani didn’t think she’d ever be able to stand staying in one place. Even her Chatakwe ancestors were nomads after all, though their path was a little more… varied. The tribes wandered through the deserts of Ekytols, staying in one place for a time if food or water was plentiful, and leaving when it was not.
Oryani sat comfortably on Khal’s back, moving with the horse up and done as they headed at a trot through the long grasses. Sometimes they were long, sometimes short… in this place they brushed her knees, when they weren’t stepped on by the stallion first. Both her animals had been enjoying the journey, however… Khal and Alaril. The eagle could sometimes be seen high in the sky, soaring so far above the ground that she was just a golden dot in a blue expanse. The bird always knew to come home, though, and many days Alaril came with prey. Not big enough, but maybe a hare or a bird, and once even a small fox. A big bird could take down big things, and eagles were the perfect predators. The hunters of the group had started praising the creature, betting on what would be brought back each day.
Someone called from the leftmost side of the group, waving their hands in a beckoning gesture. They all directed their horses in the woman’s direction, quickly packing tighter together to hear what had happened. ”Water, over here… we can water the horses now, and refill our skins.” The woman’s hand signing showed her happiness at the discovery, and there were a few grins all round. They’d run into a place where fresh water was rare, so a source was always valuable. Oryani herself had been skimping on the liquid, saving it for her bird and horse, or other members of the group. She’d had a mouthful the day before, but nothing for four days previously. She could go longer, of course, but there was no point pressing her limits. She always liked the feeling of having her water organ full and safe anyways. It was like being well stocked on supplies… Though you’d probably not run out with half a stock, you always felt more comfortable when it was full up. So, she followed the rest of them at a walk, patient enough to wait her turn for the liquid.
The source was really a small pool, bubbling up from the ground as some kind of spring. The water was fresh and cool and everyone drank it up thirstily, from horse to Drykas. Alaril even landed for once, perching at the side to take a few laps, though the bird was careful not to get her feathers wet. Oryani waited for last, as there wasn’t much room around the refreshing liquid, and maybe two horses and a human could fit comfortably. She slipped in when there was an opening, looping Khal’s reins over the back of his neck and the grip on her Yvas, so he could drink freely. The stallion gulped down even more than most, making loud sounds as he did so. When there was a space for herself Oryani moved in beside her Strider, kneeling on the shorter grass and pulling her water skin from her belt. She emptied it first, before refilling it and drinking it all once, twice, before she felt truly. Full. Only then did she fill it one last time and close it with the cork plug, saving it for later.
She stood to see Khal staring at her, the stallion having finished his drink. Affectionately she rubbed his nose, and was rewarded with a snuffle, the horse rubbing his soft nose and muzzle against her palm. She led the Strider away from the pool, checking to see that Alaril and everyone else had left, before finding a good place to mount up. She clutched the grip and swung one leg up, finding her seat just in time to hear the alarm. The warning. The voice was frightened and scared, wavering with the single word, though it was loud enough for all to hear.
”Zith!”
Wordcount1044
