Winter Mysteries (Khida)

[Colt]

10th of winter, 515 a.v
before dawn

The day started off much like any other. The inky darkness of the sky lightened steadily to silver, and the eastern horizon began to boil as a new day made ready to wake. The air was cold and bitter, as could be expected after any winter night, and it made Shahar reluctant to rise as early as he usually did.

One of the clearest ways for him to feel the differences between seasons was their cadence; in summer, he would have made a point to get up before dawn to check his traps, but in winter the dawn was cold and vicious; no beast in its right mind, day or night, would go about any business in this weather. The nocturnals had already settled down, and the diurnals would have little cause to rise until the sun began to light up the sky properly.

As it was, Shahar was a bit late in hauling himself out of his warm bedroll, into his clothes and then to the open air. The sky was beginning to turn from purple to pink as Syna neared the low horizon, but it would be a few minutes yet before the made her appearance; there was still time to check the fruit of his snares––provided the cold didn’t slow him down.

He began to shiver almost immediately, as his clothes were all chilled from a night without wear, although he still did his best to move quietly without disturbing the camp. It was the usual way of things for him to wake first, and he didn’t want to force anyone else into consciousness with unnecessarily loud movement.

His javelins and axe were, as usual, set just inside the entrance to the tent. Though he knew almost without a doubt that he wouldn’t come across anything to outright hunt or to defend himself against, it was an ingrained habit that had long since made the weight of both seem more comfortable than their absence. He hefted his quiver and hooked the axe to his belt.

He’d had the sense to wear both his cloak and sheepskin vest, and he knew that time would see them warm enough to ward off the chill, but that time was still far away. He pulled his hood as far over his head as he could manage without cutting off his vision and shifted against his vest, trying in vain to generate enough latent friction to gain some heat. He was unsure if it worked, but the sun was still rising––he had the morning to chase.

With the icy air stabbing sharply at his lungs and clouding his breath around him, Shahar made his way towards the edge of the camp.

[Khida]

Syna approached the eastern horizon from below, and as her influence strengthened, the birds of day began to rouse. But not with song, as they would in the spring to come; not with declarations of territory and serenades of mates and celebrations of the young. No, this chill winter twilight was best-suited to huddling down in fluffed feathers and waiting for true dawn, for the golden light which heated air and plumage no matter how chill the season.

Except that birds were not the only creatures stirring in the half-light; and the waking hunter was not so inclined to remain burrowed within his warm nest.

Khida also roused as he bestirred himself, a slow ascension towards consciousness like the lift of a spring breeze. She didn't really register his rummaging about the tent, nor his concern against waking others, nor even his sense of the chill. In her turn, the falcon yawned and shook herself, blinking at the paling horizon and muttering soft disgruntlement with the frigid morn. He made his way out of the tent, striking for the edge of camp, equipped -- as her bleary eyes eventually resolved -- with cloak and javelins and even the heavy axe, glimpsed as his strides parted the cloak's edges.

She would go with him today, Khida decided, the abrupt and certain sentiment snapping her mind into sudden focus. But -- in which skin? As falcon, she would be warm and swift and keen of eye for distance; as human, she could sometimes better study the earth, help with burdens, and communicate more if the situation called for it. Human, she decided, casting out the silent request that her bondmate wait. The Kelvic dropped from tent poles to earth and shifted, ducking into the tent to fetch her own things. Clothes and cloak and shoes. Knife and readied cords for snares. She hesitated at the bow -- then strapped on case and quiver and armguard, tucking the little glove into her sash. It didn't burden her human form so much, and if she needed to shift, it was no harder to duck out of than the cloak. And who knew? Perhaps she would find an opportunity to use it.

Cold, the gear was, but no colder than the air which had shocked her skin upon shifting. Compared to that, the gradual trapping of warmth was more than welcome. Motion, and the heat it generated, was even more welcome, and Khida left the tent at a brisk walk to join her bondmate.

Common | Pavi | someone else

[Colt]

There was the familiar rising of awareness not his own, somewhere in the back of his mind. She stirred as he did, but lacked the active initiative to do and remained on her perch, where her feathers kept her warm.

Until a sudden clearing of thoughts and focus of mind echoed down the bond, signaling decision––one that involved him, and he’d stopped moving almost before he’d processed the request. In a flash of light, her feathers had been traded for skin and hair, and then she had slipped into the tent for things that would replace her lost layer of warmth. He deduced her intentions as she dressed and made her way to join him, and his emotions were somewhere between greeting and delight––it was always better to be together.

You come? he asked, although more out of habitual reaction than anything else; her actions were self-explanatory, and his signs were open without any demand for a response.

She had brought along her bow and quiver and bracer, along with rope thin enough for snaring. Perhaps she thought to hunt on foot, or to set new traps, or some other motive as of yet unvoiced––it did not much matter to him exactly what her intentions were; he would be pleased to accompany her regardless.

"Trap?" he asked. Mine yours other?

[Khida]

He waited; of course he waited, and the place he occupied in her soul shone as bright and warm as the pre-dawn heavens did not. Khida smiled an echo of his delight, smiled as she did for no one else, and upon closing the distance between them reached up to preen her fingers through his hair. Come, her free hand affirmed, even though it didn't need to be said.

Trap, he asked next, a query to which the Kelvic gave a moment's thought. Yours, mine. Go water, north, she added, waving in the general direction of a stream she had seen the evening before. It would be a good place to set traps; any source of water was. That stream's banks had been thick with brush; cumbersome to walk through and work under, but shelter for a host of the kinds of small creatures their traps might ensnare.

Not to mention, the brush provided a much more friendly environment for setting the things in the first place.

Prey, other? she asked in return, nodding towards the javelins he carried. There was always the chance they would stumble upon larger game, or even just small game that happened to show itself at an opportune moment. The query had less to do with those targets of opportunity, which were usually worth attempting in any case, but whether they would today actively seek and follow game to be taken down.

Common | Pavi | someone else

[Colt]

She approached, reflecting the feeling back to him with a smile he couldn’t help but return. She reached him, and then she reached upwards; Shahar dipped his head to meet her hand, half-aware of a low, contented rumble in the back of his throat. They echoed each other’s happiness, and soon enough Shahar moved to mirror the motion, running his hands through Khida’s own hair.

She affirmed her intentions, then signed of the stream to the north. Agreement laced through his posture and he nodded, pulling away to glance in the direction. His own traps were more to the west, although they were not far––it would not be a vastly lengthy trip to his snares, to Khida’s and then to the stream. And hopefully the world would be a bit warmer by then.

Prey, other? she asked, and prey other, he replied. Later sun high warm, more time, easier. It was more than simple strategy that brought him to the decision; he didn’t like being colder than was necessary, and while he certainly wouldn’t refuse any prey they came across, neither was he comfortable enough to pursue trails on his own. Yet.

Turning westward, to where his two traps lay in wait, Shahar’s shoulders slid into intent. Beyond the fact of being cold, he was also hungry––and if either of them had set their traps wisely, they wouldn’t have to dip into dried rations when the time came to break their fast.

[Khida]

He echoed her preening in kind, and Khida tilted her head into the affectionate contact, voicing a soft tchk that stood in for the contented chirps her human throat could not shape. It was good to see him smile, good to stand in affirmation of their bond, sharing in the simple joys of common affection and common purpose. A purpose which began with the west, where his traps lay waiting.

He expressed interest in other prey, a more proper hunt than this trapping business -- but later. Later would be good, when the cold did not threaten to stiffen their reflexes, and it would be less tempting to huddle down for warmth... as Khida did somewhat even now, her arms tight to her chest in reflexive attempt to conserve heat. Their prey would also be more agile, but that was the tradeoff one had to accept.

Decided in their course for the morning, the hunter struck out west. Khida kept pace a short distance behind and off to one side -- close enough for communication, if they felt the need, far enough that she had a clear field of view and a slightly different perspective on their surroundings. That the surroundings were visible, she had the recent snowstorm to thank; it had left old stalks bent and broken. The grasses showed new growth at base, green blades particularly vivid against winter's muted palette, but had a great deal of growth yet to go before re-attaining their full height.

Not that there was much to see beyond the stalks, this early of a morning. Old seedheads rimed with morning frost, remnants of hard-crusted snow peeking out from under the densest of grassy cover. A sky clear and blue and cold, lightening to the pale edge of gold in the east, dusted with indigo in the west. A single bird high in the sky, ambitious or desperate for prey, soaring on hawk's broad wings. All was yet quiet, in the way of the dawn.

oocLead on!

Common | Pavi | someone else

[Colt]

They fell into step together, him ahead and her a bit behind and to the side, where her eyes could stretch wider than his. What one missed, the other might catch, whether it be trails or danger or something yet unknown, still staying close enough for communication and simple togetherness. The world was less dangerous when the two of them faced it, no matter what form they faced it in.

His traps were not far from the camp, and the trek did not last long. The first had been placed in a thicket of brambles, where Shahar knew to be groundbirds, but though there was a disturbance in the dirt around the snare, the rope itself was empty. Picking the tool up to place elsewhere, they continued on.

The second was halfway under a bush, where the grass curved into the tunnel of a well-used rabbit path. To Shahar’s immense joy, there was something caught in the tight rope––a younger specimen, somewhat lean but dead and whole. Happily, Shahar knelt to retrieve the animal, and it was in his kneeling that he caught sight of something peculiar.

At first, he thought it was an oddly-shaped berry. It was very vaguely drop-shaped––at least, that was the closest thing he could associate it with––although it had more edges and angles that looked strangely… deliberate? It was unlike anything he’d ever seen before, and Shahar paused in his work to stare curiously.

Inquiry? he signed, both to Khida and to the mysterious object. Unfamiliar what is? Completely unknown.

[Khida]

He led the way through the grasses, passing from bramble to brush, places small creatures might shelter and so fall prey to a snare. Since this part of the rounds was his to direct, Khida paid little attention to the minutiae of the landscape; instead, she watched the larger picture. The curve of the grasses against the horizon, the still ranks of their stalks standing close, the shadows cast among them by interspersed brush. She listened, too, to the dawn stillness, thus far broken only by the occasional twitter of a waking songbird. She was the guard to his guide, in this moment, and the guard sensed nothing untoward around them.

It was thus surprising when her bondmate's satisfaction shaded into something more perplexed. Not a transition which sparked concern in the Kelvic, but one which snagged her attention nonetheless, bringing her focus from the distant to the near. She moved in to crouch down beside him, directing her gaze where he indicated. Something hung from a twig, like a leaf creased and folded into an odd three-dimensional shape.

He asked her what it was. Or he asked if she didn't know what it was, which amounted to essentially the same thing. Confusion, her hands shaped, beyond which point her Pavi vocabulary deserted her. Crouching down, she reached out towards the thing, not quite coming into contact with it. It was definitely attached right to the twig. "Maybe it's a leaf?" she proposed, qualifying that tentative categorization with sick. A malformed, aberrant leaf, perhaps the bush's version of a red and puffy scratch. That could well explain the thing.

Khida closed her fingertips upon it, exerting only gentle pressure. It felt... squishy and a little fragile, more like a thin skin than a tough and chewy leaf. She drew back slightly in surprise, and found the oddment came away with her, dislodged by her act of inspection.

Straightening, Khida spread her hands in a gesture not quite Sign, but clear in meaning: who knows. She held the thing in cupped hand so that she might spill it into her bondmate's for his examination, then nodded towards the horizon beyond which her own snares lay. We continue? Now that they were so close, she was reluctant to let her traps sit any longer. It hadn't been that long ago that a coyote raided all her traps for days -- and in this cold season, every carnivore would take any easy meal it could get.

Common | Pavi | someone else

[Colt]

Her attention, previously focused outwards and to where danger might come from, was focused inwards with Shahar’s discovery. Closing the distance between them, his bondmate crouched to examine the strange object.

Her hands responded with as much confusion as his; it appeared neither of them had ever happened across anything like it before.

She spoke in Common, carving the gesture for sick to further explain herself.

Maybe? Shahar replied. It looked closer a leaf than it did to anything else, but that wasn’t saying much; it looked unlike practically everything, but despite its odd morphology it had almost managed to slip under his notice entirely, so expertly colored was the exterior.

Khida leaned in and reached out, gently touching the object and experimenting with it––and then coming away with the thing when she drew back, having dislodged it from the twig. It fell, and she caught it; still her hands were wrapped in who knows? After deciding that further thought on the matter was not in her interests, she held out the thing to him and left it in his own hands, followed by a question of her own; time still wore on, and the day still had things to be done.

Nodding in agreement, Shahar let Khida lead the way, falling into step where she had before: behind and to the side, following her lead but remaining alert to their surroundings. As for the new puzzle in its hands, he kept it close; the curiosity was not at all gone, but it would have to wait until the morning tasks were finished.

[Khida]

He indicated consent, and Khida moved into the lead, guiding while her bondmate took up his own supportive watch. She had not passed this way before, precisely; her traps had been set more north than west, nearer the stream, and she had mostly reckoned by the stream when she went out to set them. But she knew about how far they were from the camp, and how far she had walked out yesterday, and on what orientation. Tracking north now, and a little east, should bring them across her own trail. And if that failed, they would meet the stream, which would give her a more familiar reference point to reorient by.

Syna continued to climb up the sky as they walked, gradually burning the frosty edge from the air. Birds flitted away from their progress, hardy little seed-eaters in drab plumage which darted through the cover of the stalks, almost never rising out into the open. Khida had little interest in them; it would take too many to feed the camp, and even the Drykas had little use for their feathers. The rabbit which dashed an erratic course into thicker cover offered more compelling quarry, the Kelvic's pace slowing as she pensively studied the stalks its passage had rattled. Slowing, and then stopping altogether.

Wait, she gestured to her bondmate. Here, one. Khida moved slowly towards where she had last seen sign of the rabbit. Where a rabbit fled, there was probably a burrow; and where one lapine dwelt, so might others. She combed through the grasses until she found the burrow... by the slightly awkward means of stepping in the hole. Still, regardless of how, she had found it, a hole about the size of her fist beside a dense clump of grass. The rabbit itself was nowhere to be found, of course, fled into the depths of its burrow or even out another exit altogether; but eventually it would return -- and her snare would be waiting.

...Somewhere around here. She needed a place to put it, still. Along a trail would be best, but the Kelvic found it difficult to trace any usual paths. Practically all the stalks were bent and broken from recent snow, flattened down in ways which masked old patterns and had not yet been worn into new ones. What she did find -- what she almost tripped over -- was a bit of shrubbery, skeletal branches seeming barely any different from the surrounding grass. It suggested cover, cover the rabbits might appreciate; so Khida took a moment to twist a length of rope into a snare, tying it to the base of the leafless bush and draping the loop in what she thought might be a likely place for rabbits to step.

It was a fair guess, anyway, and would either succeed or not. Khida took a moment to fix the surroundings in her memory, a mental image that would aid her in returning to the spot tomorrow. Then she checked for her bondmate's readiness, before continuing on in the direction of her earlier snares.

Common | Pavi | someone else