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The Wilderness of Cyphrus is an endless sea of tall grass that rolls just like the oceans themselves. Geysers kiss the sky with their steamy breath, and mysterious craters create microworlds all their own. But above all danger lives here in the tall grass in the form of fierce wild creatures; elegant serpents that swim through the land like whales through the ocean and fierce packs of glassbeaks that hunt in packs which are only kept at bay by fires. Traverse it carefully, with a guide if possible, for those that venture alone endanger themselves in countless ways.

A Bird in the Hand [Akasja]

Postby Fenris on November 7th, 2015, 3:12 am

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22nd of Autumn
515 AV
Dusk


The stench carried heavily on the breeze in all directions from its foci in the grasses, permeating the once pleasant atmosphere with death. Once detected the scent clung to the nostrils and nestled into the olfactory organ, exulted in its magnitude and sheer repugnance. At its origin lay the remains of an antelope torn asunder by bug and beast. What was left had withered under the sun, turning fresh meat to tough jerky and skin to leather. Those tidbits that might have been edible or nutritious at one point were either warming the belly of a long-gone carnivore or wasting away to a state of fetid decomposition. The earth was claiming this doe for its own.

Or it might have had the putrid aroma not caught the attention of a low flying carrion bird, dipping below the occasional thermal to survey the endless sea of grass. Once turned on to the scent of decomposition the Kelvic tilted his wings and readjusted his course to locate the dead doe. Gold rimmed eyes scanned the billowing pasture land, interested only in spotting potential competition. He need not locate the deceased visually.

Wheeling above the doe twice the great bird took stock of the scene. Decomposition had been stymied by the heat of the looming sun, now sinking lazily in the sky. The animal was nearly desiccated, fluids either the nectar of previous partakers or vaporized in the heat. But it wasn't completely mummified and the vulture had no qualms making a light snack out of what remained.

Descending with ease the vulture took care to land delicately near enough to the dead animal to extend his serpentine neck and pick at it. But the fruits of his laziness were not to be savored yet. There was still a need to assess the situation. Tilting his head a degree the large bird raised his wings up, as if stretching the feathers out. In truth, however, he was increasing his stature and making certain he was the only attendee at this feast.

Satisfied he'd not be bothered the Kelvic began the arduous task of picking the good bits out. Taking a ginger step forward the vulture pecked at a morsel of hanging dried flesh hanging tantalizingly from the edge of an exposed rib. The leathery meat slid down his throat as he stretched his wings back, raising up on plumed legs to encourage the food to an unobstructed path into his gut. Joining him were fat maggots, intrepid beetles and indolent flies, though the guest list was considerably shorter than it must've been a day ago.

Content that he would not be disturbed the carrion bird began his task of defleshing what remained, scarfing the gamey flesh down with uninhibited enthusiasm. The heavy scent of decomposing flesh blocked all other smells from the bird and his eyes blinked constantly to deter the flies. He was in his own delicious world of dead meat and solitude. Such moments were to be savored.


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A Bird in the Hand [Akasja]

Postby Akasja on November 11th, 2015, 4:19 am

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For the majority of the day, Akasja had been wandering. This was certainly the farthest she had traveled outside of Endrykas in some time, especially without a guide. As she rocked gently upon her horse's back, observing the great expanse of sun-kissed plains, Akasja formulated a plan to purchase supplies and cold-weather clothing. Certainly, she could find cloths and hides and make her own pieces, but she was not skilled enough to make something like the boots she would need to survive the coming winter. The weight of this unfinished task sat in Akasja's belly like a cold stone. Soon, perhaps even tomorrow, she decided, she would seek out merchants in the city. It was settled.

The land all around was still bountiful. Days before, Akasja had gone out foraging with a group from the city and with the head doctor of the River Flower. She had explored the land, become more familiar with it, and reaped the benefits of her patience and perseverance. Although the large expanse of plains outside of Endrykas was known to be dangerous, this day Akasja had encountered nothing remarkable aside from a refreshing, bubbling stream and a small grove of trees that were ripe with nuts. Without hesitation, she had filled her bags almost to capacity with them and then continued on her way, continually making sure that she could find a path back to Endrykas with ease. Overall, it had been a day of calm, solitude, and wealth.

Her day had been so relaxing, in fact, that the position of the sun almost took Akasja by surprise. Was night coming so soon? With a little sigh, Akasja stroked the musculature of her Desertbred's neck before gathering the reins and making a few encouraging clicks. The horse took off quickly, glad to know that they were finally returning to food, shelter, and warmth. Akasja estimated that, at the pace they were traveling, she and her horse would arrive at the edge of the city by the time the sunlight had fully gone.

Akasja gathered her stored energy and became highly alert as her horse pushed into a canter. They were moving fast and the path ahead was clear, but the sea of grass was unpredictable. Akasja did not want to be blinded by her desire to return home. That could possibly prove fatal. On the other hand, Akasja did not want to miss spotting anything valuable that could be lying around unattended or abandoned.

Almost as if on cue, Akasja's noticed a rather large, dark mass ahead of her. The grass had parted and was crushed low to the ground. Akasja slowed her horse into a trot and extended one hand out before her. She needed to know if there was activity in the area. If so, she would guide her horse away to a safer distance. Using the tiny pores in her fingers, Akasja was able to pick up on small, quick movements ahead, but nothing that made her fearful. As she and her horse drew nearer, the stench of death flooded their nostrils. Akasja's horse huffed, clearing her lungs of the odor, and nickered deeply. Still, Akasja could feel that there was a steady movement ahead, and it was not moving any closer to her. Something, probably some animal, had found whatever dead thing lay ahead.

Slowing her horse to a walk, Akasja could finally see over the grasses. She discovered the stench was emanating from an antelope's carcass, its form bathed in the orange light of the dying sun. Among the bones, a large vulture was picking clean what remained of the dried flesh. Akasja immediately eyed the antelope's horns. They were still intact. Without a doubt, they would make excellent weapons. In fact, Akasja knew, all of the bones of this animal could be used for something. But there was no way that she alone could carry a decaying animal back to the city. At this time of day, Akasja worried more about being plunged into darkness without proper preparation. If she was going to make use of this carcass, she had to act now.

Dismounting her horse, Akasja grabbed the knife on her hip and headed toward the antelope carcass. She would look for any salvageable parts, pack them with her, and then head off back to Endrykas.
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Last edited by Akasja on November 11th, 2015, 5:52 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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A Bird in the Hand [Akasja]

Postby Fenris on November 11th, 2015, 4:44 am

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There wasn't much to speak of. Bits and pieces here and there, clinging furtively to the underside of bones and dark recesses of the corpse. It couldn't be savored either without sanguine liquid to ease it down the throat. But he was hungry. It had been longer than the Kelvic would like to admit since he'd eaten.

It was a difficult task most of the time, dragging the edge of his beak against the tallow bone to scrape what little remained of the creature. Tilting his head this way and that the vulture made it his business to clean the antelope of flesh to feed the gnawing in his belly. His concentration was aligned with the task at hand, confident in the decayed nature of the corpse that he would not be disturbed by another predator.

But the sashaying of the grasses and evening noises were clever in their deceit. It was not until the female was well upon the bones that the bird realized he was no longer alone. Whether it was the thud of her feet on the ground, the swish of her dagger being unsheathed or even the even measured steps bringing her closer the vulture was all of a sudden brought into the world beyond the dead.

With an alarmed squawk he shoved back on the heels of his talons, hoping to back peddle far enough to catch the newcomer in his sights and take off. There would be no questions asked. He didn't want trouble. He didn't want anything but peace and quiet. And carrion.

But his backward momentum was painful seized as his great head hit the cage of ribs, within which he was previously pulling pieces of dried meat. In the gripping jolt to reality the bird forgot just where he'd so carefully placed his head to obtain the flesh and the instinct to rear up, increase his size and assess this interloper overcame any finesse he might've used to de-tangle himself from the bones.

Stuck! Trapped!

The bird panicked, scrabbling his feet against the earth as he strained to see the on-comer. Wings initially raised before shrouding him, not to help remove his head but to stabilize his great body and he keeled this way and that. Quick breaths escaped him as his survival instinct kicked in. In hindsight - and to the female - he likely made quite a comical scene but he was so engulfed in twisting his head and escaping this bony prison he could only crow anxiously and bob his head against the rungs of his dinner's ribs.
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A Bird in the Hand [Akasja]

Postby Akasja on November 11th, 2015, 5:15 am

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To say the scenario that unfolded surprised Akasja would be an understatement. She had no fear or malice when approaching the carcass; she had only aimed to scavenge just as the large bird before her was doing. But despite its size, the vulture spooked easily at Akasja's approach, perhaps lulled by its meal. The bird began flapping wildly, jerking its body to and fro. Akasja let out a low, short cry of surprise and hopped backward, her eyes glued to the bird who flapped frantically at the antelope's ribcage. What in Eywaat's name was it doing?

Well, it was stuck.

Akasja relaxed slightly, lowering the dagger that she had unconsciously raised in defense. She watched for a few seconds longer, wondering if the bird would possibly pull itself free, only to realize that the vulture was really, truly, stuck. A bought of laughter burst from Akasja's throat uncontrollably. The situation was incredibly odd, and incredibly perfect. Casting another glance around her, Akasja moved towards the bird.

At the tip of his wing, she halted. Such a thing was rare to find. With minimal weaponry, any animal that Akasja sought to kill would have to be one that she could capture. Here was one such animal. Killing the vulture -and quite a large vulture at that- would be incredibly easy. But as Akasja watched the struggling animal, an enormous sense of reverence fell over her.
"Suli," she whispered -the Tawna word for vulture. Her people. Akasja sheathed her knife immediately and extended her arms out before her to protect her face from the bird's impressive flapping wings. This vulture needed her help. A sense of duty overcame Akasja as she considered that the gods and spirits had come together to offer her this precious moment, the opportunity to free this animal that meant so much to the Chaktawe.

Quickly, she surveyed the situation, inspecting exactly how the vulture had managed to trap itself in the rib cage. Fear must have taken over its mind, for Akasja could see that if the bird only lowered its head towards the ground, the ribs would be wide enough for escape.
"Here, I will just push your head," Akasja spoke, not sure if the spirits could hear her or if the sound of her voice would possibly be comforting to the vulture. Moving closer to the large avian body, Akasja positioned her hands so that she was both pulling back and pressing down on the back of the vulture's head and on its shoulder blades. Touching the large bird was slightly shocking: the cold, silky feel of its feathers, the density of its body. But the reverence Akasja felt put her deeply at ease in the moment.
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Last edited by Akasja on November 11th, 2015, 5:56 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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A Bird in the Hand [Akasja]

Postby Fenris on November 11th, 2015, 5:34 am

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This was it.

The end.

He would die here, his head entombed by the very animal he was dining upon. A pathetic way to go. Not one befitting a bird of his looks or presence. The struggling caused all manner of strain on his wiry muscles and his feet felt like he was paddling in sap. But he would not be made this intruder's dinner! Nor would he perish like a poor joke at the proverbial feet of his dinner.

The female was behind him, her speech momentarily rendering him still. An avian mind cannot process the words, though his human side recognized that she was, in fact, using language rather than making random noises as his bird side inferred. He was gripped with the sudden fear that she might end him herself. He struggled against, pathetically twitching to no avail. She spoke again, this time her words lasting a lengthier breath. Her tone was soothing like the lilting push of a thermal. He could not comprehend emotion well enough in this form to discern if she was soothing him before she killed him or if she was trying to make conversation and pitying his situation. Either way he didn't like it.

But before he could struggle further a weight from above pushed him and pulled his weight from the bones, the perfect equation of down and away that he somehow managed to not put together. As if her words had granted her the power to free him the vulture's head slipped neatly between the ribs, no longer restricted. The moment he felt himself in control of his being the Kelvic ducked away from her hands, craning his sore neck to get a look at her.

Sharp eyes assessed the female, despite the waning light. Although the bird saw only features and traits befitting a larger animal the human recognized pitch black eyes and copper skin. A Chaktawe. There was no room in this body to question a Chaktawe's presence in this region. He could only identify her, not reason or suppose. Canting his head again, he stood before her, wings held slightly aloft to increase his mass should he need to threaten her off.

It was within reason that he should flee. She was much larger than he and she could very easily wish to partake of the antelope. But his neck and head were throbbing and something very human kept him were he was, watching the female with a respectful wariness. There existed in him a very real and insistent urge to shift, reclaim his human body if only to address the soreness in ways a bird could not. But instead he waited, poised on the edge of flight but maintaining some shred of dignity - though it was unclear whether that belonged to bird or man.

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A Bird in the Hand [Akasja]

Postby Akasja on November 11th, 2015, 6:26 am

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Thankfully, the vulture managed to escape the confines of the bones. It toddled backwards dizzily, then steadied itself. Akasja and the bird watched each other, but neither made a move. She wondered if it was injured, but figured that the best idea was just to let the vulture be still and gather its energy again.
"Don't worry," Akasja said softly to the bird, just as happy to speak in Tawna as she was to speak it to an animal whose presence was what she considered to be some sort of sign from the spirits. Although she had laughed at the situation, she was humbled by having helped the creature. "I won't take your meal. I just want these horns."

Akasja turned back to the carcass and eyed the antelope's head. Indeed, most of the flesh was fully decayed, but standing this close to the body took effort to not inhale the stench too deeply. Akasja would need to get her knife working on the tendons that still held the antelope's head to its spine. Unsheathing her dagger, Akasja grabbed one horn for leverage and angled the bony head as best she could as her blade cut into the desiccated flesh. Only a few chimes passed before the Chaktawe realized that the antelope's tendons were so dry in places that they had begun to fuse with the bones. Freeing the skull from the rest of the body would take more time than Akasja had light.

Breathing heavier with the effort she had expended, Akasja turned away from the carcass. The vulture, although slightly wary of her, remained in its spot, watching quietly. Akasja offered a wry smile to the bird.
"You're staying here with me, are you?" she cracked, and then, looking deeply into the darkening sky, "Are you showing me something, Eywaat?"

Akasja cast another glance at the bird before she took off jogging towards her horse. Once able to access her pack, Akasja used the dying light and her sense of touch to seek out the makeshift torch that she had crafted out of a small, slightly hollowed-out branch and some sap; her flint, a piece of steel, and some kindling. Her horse followed eagerly as Akasja returned to the flattened area where the antelope carcass rested. There was the chance that the vulture would be scared off by the Desertbred, but Akasja could not spare much time thinking about the bird's feelings. She had to work fast to make the fire for her torch.

In a few moments, Akasja had bunched up the kindling and was striking the flint and steel together as she had practiced before. She blew on the embers that fell into the soft, dry kindling pile until they grew larger and became flames. Finally, she thought to look up at the vulture and make sure it was still around. She scanned the bird's body again, making sure there were no visible injuries. Akasja then produced the chunk of wood that she had collected and filled with sap and rolled its sticky center gently in the flames she had made. The sap immediately caught fire to burn bright and slow.

With this new light source, Akasja could get back to work. The sky was fading into shades of blue, and almost all sunlight was gone. The torch was her saving grace. She held the flaming wood in one hand, pressed some weight against the antelope's horns, and continued the task of severing the tough tendons. Soon the head would be free, and Akasja could take it back with her to the city.
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A Bird in the Hand [Akasja]

Postby Fenris on November 14th, 2015, 12:49 am

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He wanted to leave. He wanted to be on his way, appreciative the female freed him and didn't attempt to eat him shortly thereafter. In fact, she seemed more interested in the antelope corpse than the bird. Which suited him just fine. But his neck and shoulders hurt something fierce from his failed attempts to extricate himself from the ribs. Thus, he would have to recuperate a little before he took to the skies.

This made for a rather awkward scene, the vulture watching the female struggle and toil with the bones while he stood there like a halfwit. He couldn't comprehend why she wasn't eating the flesh too but instead busied herself with the skull, paying particular attention to the horns. After some time she addressed the Kelvic, her words directed at the bird and then the sky. He didn't pretend to understand her, instead neatly grooming himself as she spoke.

When she got up he anticipated she'd become bored of her endeavor and was taking her leave. All the better. But the vulture was sorely disappointed when she reappeared, another animal in her wake. The vulture hopped warily to the side, ducking his head down as he observed the four legged beast. Whatever it was - and it was familiar - it was not threatening. But the bird was cautious nonetheless. And gods did his muscles ache.

Busying himself with the menial task of cleaning his feathers the vulture ignored the female and her four legged companion as best he could. Why couldn't they just be on their way? He chanced a glance her way and was horrified to see she'd procured fire within the branch she held aloft. Scuttling back with renewed anxiety the Kelvic decided it was time to depart. He wanted no part of fire.

But as he stretched his wings out the pain that radiated from the base of his skull down his neck prevented him from continuing his attempt at flight. Dropping his wings in what might've appeared as defeat the Kelvic had but one final option. He could not linger in this form, vulnerable as he was. The female was going about her business but who knows when she'd turn that dagger to him for supper.

Watching her for a tick longer the Kelvic made up his mind. He did not care to shift forms in the presence of others, particularly when his clothes were no where in sight. But he felt far too exposed in his present state. Hopping out of the glow of her torch the vulture found himself ensconced by the long grasses, figuring this was the best place to let the transformation take place. In his human form he could overpower the female if he needed to. But mostly he could communicate and flee on stronger legs.

The shift was seamless, though it likely appeared fantastical to someone who'd never been witness to such a change. The swirl of lights, like tiny fireflies, oscillated around him as his form devolved and took shape again, within the blink of an eye. The change from vulture to human was instantaneous. Kneeling in the long grasses Fenris took a slow breath. He retained his exceptional vision and could see through narrow stalks to where the Chaktawe was working. He could escape at this point. But he didn't fancy a dagger in his back or buttock if he frightened the woman. Well... he would have to expose himself, for better or for worse.

Clearing his throat quietly the Kelvic rose from his hiding spot, thankful for the height of the grasses to keep his unmentionables covered. Running a hand through his disheveled hair the man waited for the female to see him, still somewhat in the shadow of her torch.

"Thank y'for the help," he intoned in common, nodding to the corpse and hoping she would understand. He raised his hands to show he carried no weapons and prayed to Eywaat she would not unleash her weapon or ire on him.

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A Bird in the Hand [Akasja]

Postby Akasja on November 24th, 2015, 4:38 am

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The skull detached from the final neck tendon with a soft thwak, and Akasja steadied her stance over the antelope's carcass. Then, taking a big step back, she turned her head to breathe the fresher air behind her that didn't reek of decay. Her warm muscles loosened up, her brow unfurrowed. Akasja felt agile and excited in the cool evening air. Finally, she could gather her prize and head home.

The Chaktawe planted her makeshift torch in a small nook in the soil, allowing her to use both hands to grab the antelope's skull by its horns and attach it to her saddlebag. After securing the head, Akasja thought to check again for the vulture. It had not made any sound or cry during the entire time that she had been working, to the point that she almost forgot it had been there. Akasja turned to scour the area around her, using the torch light to see what she could.

There was nothing.

But her fingers, sensitive as they were, told otherwise. They tingled as air waves from movement ahead reached their tiny pores. She could feel the way the air bulged and rushed from the movement of what felt like a smallish creature. It must have been the vulture -although it seemed to have disappeared into a section of tall grasses nearby. Perhaps it was seeking shelter in such a vulnerable state. For a moment, Akasja was free to feel a little pained about the bird's condition. She wondered if this was the right time to leave.

Then she saw the lights. Eywaat's beak. Short-lived, bright, swirling like insects, and then gone. Back to darkness. Akasja instantly reached for her dagger and held it out in front of her. The torch she had planted in the ground was burning mere feet from her, but she hesitated to grab it, instead reaching out into the air with her left hand to feel for more movement ahead. Akasja's breath hitched as the grasses rustled. Something big was there.

At the very edge of the light her torch provided, Akasja could hear some sort of grunt as the grasses shifted. What type of creature could it be? Why had there been strange lights? Akasja's muscles tensed again as the woman prepared to attack or leap backwards and onto her horse.
From within the shadows, a form emerged slowly, rising up to a fair height. Akasja squinted through the firelight and suddenly realized she was staring at what appeared to be a person. Her eyes shot open and her breaths were shallow as she understood that the vulture was no more. It had become a man.

Then it moved, the man-shape, although with a seemingly casual gesture, nevertheless causing Akasja to take a step backwards. Her horse let out a fearful snort, unable to tell what exactly had moved in the shadows, but sensing Akasja's trepidation. The woman wracked her mind for something to make sense out of the moment -when the man spoke.
"Thank y'for the help."

Akasja let out a short, low cry of surprise before forcing herself into silence. She had not expected this at all. Her mind raced. Strange accent aside, she realized he had spoken in Common. What kind of a god or spirit would speak to her in such a brittle language? When Islankar had come to her as a youth -or whenever the bird saw fit- there were no real words. He sent her pictures, ideas, emotions. The gods of the Chaktawe were known to speak Tawna without issue. What, then, could this man-creature possibly be? ...Or was it a trick?

Akasja peered through the darkness, finally taking a few steps to the side to reduce the glare from her torch. She could better see the man now, although he was partially hidden by the grasses. He appeared to be wearing no armor, not even a shirt to cover his pale flesh. As he slowly moved to raise his hands, Akasja finally processed what he had said: a thank you. For help.

"Are you a spirit?" Akasja asked, her voice cutting into the silence like a shaky blade. She had spoken in Tawna, not fully convinced of anything. After a pause, she decided to speak in Common as well: "Who are you?"

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