PM to join The Stars Are Falling! [Kahtra]

[Sempre]

　　

55th of Spring, 515AV
Dusk

　　

　　Ethynia could feel Syna's light begin to cool upon her back as the sun's rays began to make their decent, heralding the approaching dusk. The Sea of grass all around swayed gently in a sweetly scented spring breeze, tickling her nose - yet she refused to submit to a sneeze she could feel forming. Her arms began to feel numb and although it was uncomfortable, it was much better than the cramping she had experienced for the majority of the day. Laying as flat as possible on her stomach, arms poised beneath her as her fingers limply grasped a thin bit of rope Ethynia had been holding for hours. If there's one thing she had begun to learn about hunting, is that needing the patience of a God was beyond an understatement!
　　Alban, her golden-coated strider and beloved companion grazed lazily not a hundred feet away, keeping his distance so as not to scare away Ethynia's prey. Though he was not one known for patience. On more than one occasion he had neighed and stomped to demonstrate his irritation and boredom, only to receive an equally irritated glare back in a warning to shush - which Ethynia was sure was responded with a rolling of his eyes. That is, if it was possible for horses to roll their eyes.
　　The thin rope she held in her numb fingers led a few feet away to a small, very disfigured and haphazardly built animal snare. She had not been shown how to knot one properly and so had just made the best she could by tying the same knot over and over again hoping it would hold true and not impair the snare's working when the time came. If the time ever came. She had been lying here since dawn and not one spotting of rabbit. Nothing.

　　Just as Ethynia was on the verge of calling it quits she heard a faint, yet swift rustle come from just ahead. Fearful of making any noise that could scare whatever it was away, Ethynia held her breath and ever so slowly raised her head. Catching a fleeting glimpse of what she was sure was a bunny tail, she bit her lower lip in anticipation. This was it. If her body wasn't numb from lying so still for hours, she was pretty sure every muscle would tense in preparation to pull the rope taught and trap her prey. Yet it was not to be.
　　Stretching her neck to see over the lengthy grass, the naive rabbit was etching ever closer into her snare - when suddenly an echoing cry tore through the still air. Spooked, the young rabbit scurried away at almost lightening speed and completely disappeared from view. Alban whinnied in fright and cantered to Ethynia's side as she painfully sat up onto her knees in disappointment and cursing quite imaginatively to herself.
　　Alban's ears swivilled frantically as he heard what Ethynia could not - yet. Nudging her with his nose in an attempt to grasp her attention, he was afire with what Ethynia could only perceive as fear. Quickly rounding up her empty disheveled snare another cry sounded across the plain, she now knew it was not fear that had Alban all jittery - it was the need to race to whoever was in trouble and if possible give aid. Forever a savior was her Alban, that was how he gained his name and it was what she loved about him.
　　Cooing gently in her mother-tongue of pavi to calm him, Ethynia quickly put away her snare in Alban's yvas bags and gracefully swung herself on to his back. Not a few seconds later did Ethynia's almond gaze fall upon a strider racing chaotically through the Sea of Grass. Though it was only upon second glance that she realised a distressed rider was upon its back!

oOcThe distressed situation Ethynia finds Kahtra was previously discussed. @Kahtra so sorry it's so long! Also I hope it's ok :3

[Duende]

　　
　　　　It was not a Strider that cantered by the hunting Drykas woman—soon belied in the lack of elegance and grace with which the Zavian careered along. The soft sunlight dyed his white rump a glorious orange contrasted to his darker body—it was the impression a poor mortal had clambered atop the back of an unruly fire-spirit. Speaking of, the rider was a petite yet lean woman, the wind billowing in her sandy mane of waves.
　　　　Her form was flattened against the Zavian's back, arms wrapped around his thick neck, clinging for dear life, the worn leather halter and lead rope forgotten in her right hand. "S-T-O-O-O-P!"
　　　　The jolt of the horse's shoulders as he cantered broke the woman's voice—spoken in common—into a cascade of pleading syllables. Her almond-shaped eyes were wide and struck with fright. What if he would never stop! Her thoughts were written in her expression.
　　　　Luckily, or unluckily, then, the excited Zavian barely noticed a clumpy knoll of grass in time, jumped in haste, landed clumsily. His rider tumbled from his bare back—Ooofft!—where she lay silent at first amongst the flora. The Zavian, realizing his burden lightened, reduced his speed and eventually trotted to a halt some meters away. Where he tossed his head in an indignant neigh, and turned around to see where his rider had gone—a beast of silly nature for sure.
　　　　Aware of the strangers, suddenly, he turned to face them with pricked ears, frozen in apprehension, he watched. A groan grumbled from the fallen rider as she shuddered and sat up slowly—"OWW..."

[Akilah Windsong]

55 Spring, 515 AV

It was late. The afternoon warmth dissipated into the evening chill and Akilah shivered despite herself. Behind her, the sky was awash in fire and she turned around to admire the sunset.

The perfect time to hunt. But not today, sadly. She hadn't given Adámas enough excerise lately.

Patting her strider, she faced forward now, balancing perfectly on the yves. Her hands gripped her partner's mane lightly, and she squeezed hard once with her legs. Neighing excitedly, her strider started to walk in the grasslands, warming up. It was a quick, steady pace, half walk and half trot. As usual, her strider smoothly melded in with the long grasses and she felt like she was floating in the grasslands.

Perhaps this was what a boat felt like.

"Ready?" she asked, tightening her grip on the mane. Her back was rimrod straight, her knees bent and heels down. Without another thought, she bought signaled in pavi and squeezed again, this time keeping the pressure a constant.

Adamas broke into a trot and after a few minutes, into a canter.

She could remember her childhood days, when she was still getting used to it. The rough bump of the horse's gait. The odd steps of a canter. She was a sack of potatoes without the right strength to give commands.

Now it was like a dance and she rose and fell with each step. She rarely had to give any signals with her legs, it was almost like Adámas knew just which direction to turn.

Sometimes, she wondered if the web hadn't connected their thoughts, their minds. Merged the two into a single being.

It's a good thing she had learned to ride on a different strider. Adámas would never have let her hear the end of those early days.

There was no particular direction to go, as long as she didn't stray too far from Endrykas she should be fine. In ever widening circles, they went around the outskirts and glades around her home city.

Her right leg gave a little more pressure, directing her horse to turn. Maybe they could find a good area to do a jump. It was fun to go full throttle, but jumping made her feel like she was flying.

A scream broke the silence. It killed her concentration, almost reducing her back to that lump of potatoes.

"What?" Akilah released most of the pressure, her hands signalling the horse to stop.

"Where did that come from?" she turned her head, trying to find the source.

In the distance, she could make out some figures--of people, she was sure, and their striders too. Was it from them?

Maybe it was an attack. "We have to go help them!" She squeezed her thighs hard, guiding her strider to the direction of the noise.

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[Sempre]

　　

　　

　　Alban itched to race off after the fleeing rider and her Zavian, though not being an experienced rider herself, Ethynia would usually be more cautious to reign in Alban's impulses to race like the wind. However when the rider suddenly fell from her perch, Ethynia's own drive to spirit to the strangers aid, gave way to her fears and allowed Alban free reign this time. Clutching his mane in a death-grip, her knuckles taking on the white sheen of death, Ethynia clicked her booted heals against Alban's lush coat, but even she was not prepared for the frenzy and burst of cold wind in her face that was to follow.
　　Taken by surprise by Alban's sheer haste as he pelted across the plain of grass, Ethynia was near thrown off her own Strider. Arms aching and numb from having spent hours resting in one place, she barely had the strength to right herself upon Alban's back. A pained groan escaped through gritted teeth as she used every stiff muscle within her body to gain balance once more. One hand at a time, Ethynia reached forward to hug the stallion's neck, using the muscles in her thighs to clench onto his back as tightly as she could.
　　Closing the distance to the fallen rider, Ethynia's heart raced and her eye's began to tear as the wind whipped her free raven locks wildly behind her. Being jolted upon Alban's back like a ragdoll, Ethynia struggled to remain atop her own Strider - ironic, running to the aid of someone who was also thrown from their horse! And as she could feel herself begin to slip, thankfully Alban took notice and began to slow from his canter to a trot.
　　More comfortable at this pace of riding, Ethynia sucked in a steadying breath and straightened, reshuffling her rear to sit more firmly upon Alban's back. Quickly using the end of her sleeve to wipe away the tears formed from the harsh rush of wind, Ethynia began searching the grass for the fallen rider.
　　Suddenly she heard a faint ' oow ' carried upon the wind and immediately directed Alban towards its source and sure enough, there she was. Ethynia remained cautious of the wild Zavian not far away, making sure it had calmed at least a little before disembarking from Alban's back. Jumping to the ground, she raced to the woman's side, speaking without thought in her mother-tongue of Pavi,
　　　　　　　　　"Are you ok? What hurts?"

　　Alban gently strolled up to the other woman's side, nudging her compassionately and snorting in obvious worry. Just as Ethynia was about to softly push his nuzzle away, his head swivelled. Not towards the Zavian who kept its distance, but towards another oncoming rider.

oOcSo sorry guys for the long wait in reply, I unfortunately had exams :/ But am free now, yay!

[Duende]

　　　　Kahtra was holding her left upper arm with a shaky hand, pinning it to her abdomen, though it was numb rather than painful, as the shock of the impact worked its way into her muscle. A hefty bruise would certainly form there once the blood had time to rush back into the limb.
　　　　The Kelvic flinched, a little apprehensive of beasts of the equine variety, as the Strider nuzzled her. Though her grasp of Pavi was poor, her animalistic intuition picked up on the concern permeating both the Drykas and her Strider's faces. She responded in the Drykas tongue as best she could, pausing many times as she racked her memory for the right words to choose—"I am..alright..No bad."
　　　　As the blood rushed to the pressure spot on her arm, she began to feel an aching pain. Worse yet, when she went to bend her left knee to sit more comfortably, her ankle spasmed in a sharp, slicing pain. "Ooh!" Her eyes flew open wide and her face contorted. "My foot. It is bad?" The short, grey thick linen trousers that she wore came just to her ankle, beneath their fraying hems her feet were strapped in sandals. Above these intricately woven straps, her left ankle was a stark red, and swelling up by the chime.
　　　　The Kelvic looked up to the face of the woman who had come to her aid, and saw that her gaze was diverted by something, following her eye-line, the Kelvic saw there was a horse and rider approaching. Unsure what to make of it, she glanced round at her own steed. The Zavian had approached a stride or two tentatively, then had paused as he, too, watched the newcomer approach. His ears flicked back, forth, back, and he whinnied nervously. Kahtra made a face at the horse and his excitable nature, in a mood with him for now.
　　　　The feline Kelvic had been in Endrykas for 25 days, arriving as a slave amongst the captured caravan on the 30th of that season. Whilst she felt she was getting to know the Drykas people and their culture, she struggled to bond with the herbivores her Pavilion kept. As a carnivore, she thought them rather skittish and stupid creatures. Horsemanship was an integral part of the culture she was trying to make home, though, and today she had had her first real taste of it.

[Duende]

NB: The PC Kahtra will be retired and no longer posting in this thread. I give permission for the other players to play Kahtra out of the scenario as they see fit to finish the thread if they wish. Please do not award any XP or Lores to this PC. Thank you!
　　

[Akilah Windsong]

Akilah could feel the uneven ground through her strider's pace. Knees bent and unbent as she rose and fell to the candors of the land. To her partner's slightly changing pace.

Good thing it was mostly consistent--Akilah could match the pace well enough because of that.

As they got closer and closer to the figures, she could tell that two were striders and the other two humans. Probably Drykas--no non-Drykas could have gotten this close to Endrykas without someone knowing. Without some alarm being sent off.

Both were woman, and one was lying on the ground. Was she badly injured? Akilah's heart beat faster and worried, she urged Adámas to go even faster with a dig of her heels.

Arriving, she signaled to Adámas to slow down and stop.

"Are you two okay?" she asked, concerned. Once her strider had stopped, she slipped off the left side of the horse. Adámas was a tall horse and Akilah's feetv hit the ground with a thud. Her legs were feeling a little sore, a little stiff, and she pusehd past the crowd.

The woman on the ground looked worse off than the one standing. Akilah was no doctor and her knowledge of first-aid non-existent. But even looking at this woman's scratches and bruises, she could tell it didn't look good. At all.

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