Flashback [Bronze Woods] Which Is The Real Hunter? (Kyo)

[Kaie]

She shifted before the blaze, letting her eyes wander toward the flickering light. The dancing flames danced in the amber of her eyes for but a moment before her sights returned to the strange Kelvic before her. What was it like, she wondered, to be stuck between two bodies. Stuck between two worlds. Does he even know the one beyond the high walls, or does he merely see the knights as naught but metal men? There was that look on her face again, the furrow of her brow remaining while she pondered over her own thoughts. Could it be he once knew Syliras or life among the farms with the people outside the walls? Had he chosen long ago which life he wished to live, and thus lost touch with the customs and language of the locals here? It was a fascinating question to be sure. For if a headstrong Myrian born in a longhouse in the midst of thick, dangerous jungle struggled to comprehend the barbarian world when she crossed the sea, how could one so completely out of touch with it fair?

Her thoughts went up in the smoke of the fire, forgotten when she once more heard the man's rendition of her name. Kyo shuffled toward her and began to pull at his face. It was some time before she realized he had been mimicking her expression. Self-consciously, Kaie's brow relaxed and she shook her head.

"Make good. Make smile, you mean," She mimicked his grin without the use of her hands, fighting a small laugh in the face of their ridiculousness. Kyo was shuffling again, though, moving about her and jabbing his finger toward her quiver full of arrows. Her smile turned more genuine. "Arrow." A copper hand retrieved one from the quiver and she held it out before him. Balancing it upon her open hands, she kept the weapon ammunition close to her body to prevent him from prematurely snatching it. "Like fire, yes. Can hurt. Cut, not burn." She demonstrated for his benefit, clutching the shaft of the arrow in her right hand and drawing the arrowhead across her left palm. A thin, red line appeared, but hardly any blood surfaced. "Like Kyo teeth. Sharp. To kill," That furrowing of her brow appeared for but a tick before she found the word she wanted and grinned. "To hunt."

An idea struck her just then. Without warning, she gathered herself to her feet and pulled her bow from her back. She took several paces away from Kyo and clutched the weapon with her right hand. "Bow." She notched the feathered end of the projectile upon the bowstring. "Arrow." She drew the string back to her lips and aimed into the forest in the opposite direction from the Kelvic. An exhale came and then the arrow was released. It whizzed through the space before her and thunk'ed into the trunk of some random tree a few yards away. The Myrian followed it and yanked it from the bark, then returned to their fire. "Kyo want to hold?" She offered up the arrow, eyes seeming to hold a level of caution. She gestured toward the red line on her hand. A warning.

[Kyo]

"Smi-yal. Yes! Good!" His teeth showed again in what was called the smile, this time without the benefit of his long-fingered hands to tug at his face. The smile, he thought, was like a sun-face: like the glowing linings of the clouds at daybreak. It was a beautiful face to make, at least it looked that way to Kyo when he saw Kaie make it. Then again, he thought everything about her was beautiful, from her face and her form to her scent. She was human, or Myrian, which was really the same anyways, wasn't it? To be human --Myrian-- was to be beautiful. Well. As long as the human was also good --not one of the bad men, who could not be beautiful-- and Kaie was most definitely good. Kyo saw that.

So when she took the sharp-stick --what she called arrow-- and ran it across her palm, the coyote-man let out a croak of dismay, leaning closer. His face creased, his hands coming up, lightly touching her injured one. His eyes told him that the hurt was not a bad one, only a little slice which meant only a little blood-- drops and not gushes. This was good, because gushes would mean a deep injury, like when his dogs got their jaws around the throat of a deer and ripped it open, spilling the dirt below into reddish mud.

And yet Kaie was human --Myrian-- and Kaie was beautiful and good and Kyo did not want her hurt, if even only in drops. His first instinct, after leaning closer to make sure her hand would be alright, was then to snatch the arrow and put it away from her so that it wouldn't sting her again. Maybe take it and snap it like a stick between his teeth. A sharp-stick was still just a stick, after all, and so it could be broken. But as soon as he reached his fingers towards it Kaie had moved it back, so that it was held close to her body. Kyo pulled the corners of his lips down at her, bringing his brow down too. "No good cut," he said, then pointed to her hand, "No Kaie cut. No good."

No matter the face he made at her, though, it didn't seem she would give the arrow up. Instead, she made more words. "Like Kyo teeth. Sharp. To kill. To hunt."

At this, a jolt ran through him. It was like the crackling of the sharp-lights, the lightning-lights in the sky during the storm. If he had been in his coyote-form, his ears would have perked straight up, quivering in alarm, his tail tucked close. This new feeling, it was like when his belly dropped, like those rare moments of panting-quick fear when he and his dogs got into real danger.

Kaie. She had taken the sharp-stick arrow, and she had cut, and then she had said it was for kill, hunt. His mind put these things together in a panicked jumble. Kaie using the arrow to cut her hand, and Kaie saying the arrow was not just for hurting, but for killing. She had used it on herself. The arrow, then... was it for killing, for hunting herself? He didn't know how that could be or why a human-form would make or need such a terrible-bad thing, and certainly Kaie would not do what he was suddenly frightened she might do. No. She would not.

And yet.

That same jolt shocked through him again when she suddenly moved, and when she moved she did it away from him, taking the arrow-stick with her. Kyo scrambled to his feet with one arm outstretched, terror shivering in his gut as he barked out, "No!" But it was too late. Kaie had already moved, putting the arrow close to her face. The strange thing she had called bow went up too in her other hand, and Kyo's breath caught in his chest, waiting for the gushes of blood that had not happened to her hand to happen now.

But no. Instead there was a thunk, and Kyo's head whipped to the side. The arrow. It was... there? His breath whooshed back out of him, making his human-legs feel weak and wobbly. Part of the feeling was from relief-- Kaie, though she had used the dreaded bow and arrow, did not seem hurt. Part of it was from confusion as he struggled to see why she had not been hurt. The rest of the feeling was a strange one, but also one that the coyote-man knew well, though he had not known it for a long time. It was the feeling of seeing something completely and surprisingly new. He felt his eyes open wide --along with his mouth-- as Kaie went to the tree and dug out the arrow, where it had flown so quick and straight as to be a blur.

When Kaie asked "Kyo want to hold?" he reached out both hands and took the arrow from her and held it stiffly out in front of him, though away from Kaie herself. He was glad it was away from her, though he thought now that maybe he had been wrong. Maybe the arrow was not used for self-hurting, or self-hunting, but somehow for the usual sort of hunting. Still. He wanted it away from her just in case. His heart was still thudding in his chest.

But despite how scared he had just been, how awful-scared, his natural curiosity was peeping at him like an underfed baby bird. If the bow and arrow weren't used for self-hunting... if he truly had been wrong... Kyo looked up at Kaie. "Ah. Kyo bow...? Make try?"

Not far from where Kaie's arrow had struck the tree, the snuffling face of a brown Deerstalker dog could be seen poking its nose from the bushes as Brother's hesitance became overwhelmed by his interest in what the human and his coyote-brother were up to.

[Kaie]

He was skittish, that much the Myrian was certain. The sort of nervous that reminded her of the shy animals of the jungle; the sort whose hearts stopped when her misstep upon the earth made a sound. Would he too perk his ears and dart into the brush? She supposed she couldn't have been surprised if he did. He was a Kelvic after all. Animal and human. Though he had his dogs, she wondered if his two-legged form trumped the instinctual fear of its four-legged counterpart. Still, the man was gentle and kindhearted. He worried for her, a stranger, when the arrow's edge drew a red line across her flesh. His concern continued even when she lifted her bow and fired harmlessly into the forest. Such were traits she would not expect from a predatory animal.

"Okay," She conceded with a firm nod. There was a weariness that entered her eyes, a suspicious sort of concern when she studied him. In the Myrian world, giving a weapon to a child and allowing them to test their meddle with it was an average thing. A necessary process even. Another difference to add to the rift that separated the Myrians from the Humans. Perhaps it was Kyo's ignorance to the world that made her think twice. "Make try. Here. Take." The bow was offered to the man and a nod was given to the arrow in his hands. "Look now. I show." Kaie gestured him to follow her away from the fire. She cleared her throat.

"Lift bow. Take arrow." She procured an imaginary bow in her hands. She pointed to the arrow. "String." The imaginary arrow was placed upon the imaginary string, and the bow was lifted toward the forest. "Draw." The imaginary arrow was pulled back upon the string to her lips, held between her index and middle finger. She paused then, brow contorted as she searched for the word she wanted. However, the Common term failed her for the time. "Make look." Her eyes focused into the distance, targeting no true tree in particular. Then her two fingers released their imaginary projectile and the imaginary bow was lowered thereafter. "Loose." The Myrian turned to Kyo just then with a grin. In the corner of her eyes she noticed the dog sniffling into view. Its dark eyes seemed fixated on the naked Kelvic man, ears perked and head slightly tilted in his direction.

"No forget. Bow. Arrow. For hunt. For kill. Point at tree. Away from dog...and Kaie. Kyo try."

[Kaie]

(Edit: there was a double post here. Please disregard.)

[Kyo]

The coyote-man grinned when Kaie said okay and nodded her head... though he still took the bow carefully, very carefully as if he thought it might turn and bite. Soon enough he understood that it could not hurt him, with no visible claws or teeth or other pointy bits. Maybe if he hit himself with it... but he would not.

Instead Kyo looked at it, feeling its long curve, sliding his fingertips over its glossy material. It was like a stick, he thought, only very different, for he had never seen a stick so smooth and strong. He raised it to his nose and sniffed, trying to take in its scent. The string-part smelled different from the rest of it, and had perhaps once been some sort of living animal flesh, though now it was a mere strip, twisted and twined tightly together. He put a finger against the string and tested its strength, pulling it shortly back and letting it go, almost like a strum. Doing so made a slight humming noise, and the young man tilted his head, listening. He pulled it and let it go again, and smiled before he followed Kaie.

"Lift bow. Take arrow. String." He watched as she pointed to the arrow, then made a strange motion with her hands and then lifted her arms, as if she was lifting something --or somethings-- that was not-there. For a moment he continued to stare at her, uncomprehending. What was she doing?

Then he thought back. The way she had lifted what was called the bow before, when he thought it was a bad thing and she would be hurt. The way she had fitted what was called the arrow to what she now called the string. Those motions were like these ones, now. Only he had the bow and she was... making games like she had it instead. He reached out a hand, not the one with the arrow, and swiped it through the empty air in front of her own, as if testing that there was really nothing there that she held. Yes. That was it. She was making games like she had her bow and arrow, when really Kyo was the one who had them.

Kyo... Kyo was supposed to try, yes, but with the real bow and the real arrow, not the making-games one. He ran his fingers over the arrow, keeping his skin away from the sharp head-part and feeling the soft-yet-firm feathers of the tail-part of it, then grasped it at the tail-end. The flat-part of the tail-end, the very end-end of the arrow, had a little cut made into the wood. This he inspected, running his thumb over it, before frowning and pressing the end of the arrow to the string, like how Kaie had play-gamed with her not-there bow. The cut in the wood of the end-end fit exactly onto the string, and Kyo marveled at the make of the two parts and how they fit together, so well and good so that the end of the arrow would stay better on the string. Though Kyo didn't understand having so many things like Kaie did, he could not help but be amazed at how good human-forms were at making them.

"Kay-ee make bow, make ah-row?" he asked, hungry to know, and he thought his curiosity really was like a little baby bird, ugly and bare-feathered, but still looking for tasty food. He smiled.

"Draw." Now Kaie brought her one arm back, and Kyo jumped, realizing he had forgotten to lift the bow. He did so quickly, fast to make up for being slow before, and the arrow nearly fell off the string. He laid it carefully back into place, frowning again with his eyes squinting almost closed as he tried to figure out what Kaie was doing now, and what she had done before. She did something with her fingers, holding the pointing-finger away from the middle-finger just slightly as she pulled her arm back, and Kyo tried to copy that. But where on the arrow was she putting her fingers? The very end-end? Or up more, by the feather-part?

He fumbled and dropped the arrow when he tried to hold it too far forward, and had to snatch his foot out of the way before the sharp-part poked him on its way down. He knelt and picked it back up, scowling, and put the end-end with its cut back on the string, then tried placing his holding-fingers a bit further back, though not yet on the end-end. But that wasn't right, or it didn't feel right. The feather-part was brushing against his hand, and he couldn't remember it doing that when Kaie had pulled back the first time.

Then again, he had been so scared the first time, thinking it would hurt her... he had not been looking at her hand so much, but more at her face, waiting for blood or for a hurt noise or for her to make a hurt face. He looked at her now, and asked, "Ah, Kay-ee...?" He had to think to try to put the right word-sounds together for her so that she might understand his question. "Make... make Kyo make good ah-row-place...?" He indicated his hand, with his fingers slightly parted like hers, and then slid it along the stick-part of the arrow, looking to find the right place to stop.

At some point in time during this Kyo had noticed Brother's eyes on him, and shaped his lips and made a soft, low whistle-noise at the dog. Brother had disappeared into the bushes, only to show up again, closer to his coyote-brother and the female human-form than before. Not long after, and the dog came tiptoeing lightly from the leaves, stalking carefully closer to the little group with his ears pointing forward and nose snuffling. He skirted around the fire, ever watchful of the human female. This daring action came with a sound of deep chest-growling from Sister, who still refused to come near or even show herself.

OOCSorry for dragging this out, but Kyo's not used to this sort of coordination and human stuff, so I figured he'd bumble it a bit.

[Kaie]

First was the flint and steel. Then came the fire. Now the pair had moved onto letting him explore things of slightly more complexity. Though the man-made weapon was still of primitive quality even in her eyes, it appeared to be an entirely different entity to Kyo. The Myrian watched him explore the construction with all the likeness of a child. Her mouth twitched in the hint of a grin. Did she behave somewhat similarly when she was very, very young? Did she too let her curious fingers strum the bowstring and smile at her elders for approval? She supposed her first attempts with the damn thing was probably of little difference to his anyway.

"Using bow and arrow? Not easy. Not first time. Still not easy," She admitted sheepishly before she made her way over to the Kelvic man, nodding her head as he made his request for her help. Her tongue lashed out for a moment against her bottom lip. Amber eyes studied the way he stood there holding the bow, fumbling with the arrow. She retrieved another from her quiver.
"Hold here. Behind feathers." Her index and middle fingers curled to hold behind the feathers. "Then draw. Slow. Oh, and try not to hold." She tried to mimic what she'd meant, pulling the arrow on the imaginary bowstring, right arm shaking a bit when she held it in the air too long. "After draw, rest arrow here. Arrow rest." She made a left fist as if she were still holding the imaginary bow there, and made a slipping motion down to where the arrow rest laid on the bow in his hand.

Kaie was certainly no expert at the bow, and definitely not a teacher either. However, in her experience she'd found it best to learn by doing. Thus far that's exactly how Kyo had been experiencing the objects of her world. Why stop now?"Try again. Ah, and keep arrow on string this time," She mocked in good nature, gesturing toward her feet where the arrow had fallen before. Yet as the Kelvic man stood there struggling his way toward success with the new skill, the Myrian's keen eyes ventured back into the forest. One of Kyo's canine companions had reemerged again from the brush. This time he was far more bold, alert and cautious with each gentle step he took toward her. Their eyes locked for a moment, and the dog seemed to pause. A warning growl from the safety of the forest shadows caught the savage's ear, and her attention was turned toward the sound. Naturally, her mind drifted toward the gladius strapped to her hip. Her own lip curled in the direction of the animal's aggression, but she calmed when she reminded herself of the man beside her.

"Takes much practice. Much work. Make look at target. Then loose." It was if her focus had never left the task before her.

OOC:Hey, no worries there! Better to play your skills up fairly than not for the sake of keeping a post short. No need to apologize!

[Kyo]

"Behind feh-thers," the young man echoed. "Draw... slow... no hold."

He watched Kaie with an eye as sharp as the sharp-part of what was called the arrow. As her fingers moved, so he moved his. They slid back further along the arrow in his hand, further still than before, and he grasped it past the feather-part, at the very end-end.

He thought that this holding of the arrow was better. Because Kaie had told him it, and so it must be good. And because it just felt better. No feathers brushing against the skin of his hand. There was a... what was it called, a balance? A better balance, yes, like crossing a stream over a fallen log, feeling the space stretch even on either side, feeling the space empty below. There was a balance to this, too, to his clumsy human fingers. They were able to control the balance of the arrow, and where it had to go. They were able to control its space, its hold. He used this control to put the arrow on the string, the little cut in the end-end fitting as it had before.

Kyo did not really know what draw was, though Kaie had said that sound before. When she made those word-noises she brought her one arm up, the other arm back. So that was what Kyo tried to do. The one with the bow came up, held straight before him. The one with the arrow... he rested the arrow against the string, and against the bow, too. It easily reached far enough for both, as the arrow was long. Like before, Kyo was impressed by the make of the bow and the arrow, and how well they fit together.

But he was not done. Draw, slow. He tried pulling back so, but the arrow jumped out of place, its end sliding on the string. The once-coyote turned his face down, scowling, and moved the arrow back to its place, pulling back again... only for it to slide once more. He stopped, looked at Kaie, thought back to what she had done.

The draw was the pulling-back, yes? He thought so. Kyo was trying but there was something wrong. He had tried pulling back the arrow, and yet it slipped every try. He remembered her pulling back, and there had been no slipping. She had just pulled, drawed-- no drawn back, and the arrow had stayed. So what was wrong? All he was using was his fingers! How could just fingers do such wrong, in such a little space, on such a simple task as pulling?

He tried again. Fingers on arrow, bow up, pull arrow back... and it jumped on the string, out of place. Like it didn't want to be there, and yet it did! He knew it did! Jumped like it was being forced wrong. But how could he pull back wrong? Pull the arrow, and the arrow pushes the string. But his arrow was fighting the string. Why?

Out of frustration, he set the arrow roughly back on the string, lining it up against the bow. This time he tugged at the string itself, not the arrow, as if to punish it, planning perhaps to pull the string back and let it go sharp, such a misbehaving human-made thing! But at that quick motion, just tugging the string, he stopped, holding it back. Astonishment filled him. He had pulled back on the string, not the arrow itself, and the arrow did not fight his draw but stayed where it should.

He tried again. The arrow he put on the string. The string he pulled back, just slightly, his fingers holding tight, curled around the string as they balanced the arrow. And the arrow sat where it should, once more.

Just like that, Kyo realized that his fingers had been wrong before. He had been pulling the arrow, not the string. The arrow did not want to be pulled; the string did.

With that sudden understanding, what Kaie had called the draw came much easier. Kyo held the bow out straight, fingers balancing the arrow, and he pulled back on the string. His arm went back, the elbow-part bending. When he finished pulling back, his hand came to rest next to his chin. Surprise came with the bending of his arm, surprise at how hard it was to pull back so far. His arm and even his upper back burned, not a fire-burn but a different sort, the sort he remembered in his coyote-legs after running and running and running for a long, long time. A tired-burn.

"Ah-row-rest," he grunted out in one breath. But before he had time to try to figure out what that meant and what he was supposed to do, his tired-arm complained, and the string slipped free of his curled grip. In a moment there was a snappy pain that struck his bow-holding arm, the string of the bow biting his skin and leaving a red mark on the inside of his wrist. At the same time, the arrow flew.

It did not hit the tree that Kaie had hit. No, the arrow went down too far, striking the ground short. That did not matter to Kyo, who let out a whooping laugh at the sight of the arrow flying. An immediate sense of pleasure rushed into him, even though he knew that his arm had betrayed him and let go of the string too soon. Still. He had done it. He turned his face towards Kaie, smiling broadly, eyes shining.

Brother had come sneaking closer still while the human female had looked away from him, but at the sudden motion of the arrow and at his coyote-brother's laugh he had raced back. He was halfway to the trees before he stopped and waited to see if it was still safe to be out, his paws and whiskers quivering like a mouse's.