Part I
Azmere continued to move with a methodical pace. He went through the quiver he was wearing and removed seven game arrows. He dug around in the yvas bag and found his winter blanket and unfurled it on the yvas. He swapped the game arrows for broad arrows of the same number. He placed all of the broad-tipped shafts into his quiver and slid it around where he liked it then rolled the game arrows back up in the blanket. Azmere put the blanket away and went through the quick process of checking Vihar. He eyed the knots and tested the elasticity of the string while taking a close look at the seat and notch pad. Feeling that it was in good enough shape for a scuffle, Azmere set it down on the yvas.
The archer removed his gloves then untied the string of his shirt and peeled it off carefully slipping the fabric beneath the strap of his quiver. It was his only shirt and he didn’t want to rip it. Azmere folded the article of clothing neatly and tucked it away into his backpack. He turned and walked a few steps away from the drag mark and squatted down over the mud. Without hesitation, Azmere scooped up the wet earth and smeared it across his chest, down his arms, on his boots and even on his face. He looked up and saw the young woman darting carefully through the mud towards the left rock face. Azmere smirked. It’s not what he meant but it should mask the sound of her approach. Not having very much social interaction under his belt, Azmere mad a note to be more concise with his thoughts to other people.
Satisfied with the mess he had made of himself, Azmere rose and turned back to Hephiestian. He tightened the strap on his quiver and grabbed his bow then walked to the front of the horse and patted the beast tenderly. His eyes told the strider all it needed to know. Hephiestian moved slowly away turning to go in the direction of the other stallion. Azmere turned towards the gulch just in time to watch his partner scampering up the rocks. He admired her resolve and was suddenly blessed with an epiphany. She’s fearless. That’s why she rushes into everything. It’s not a lack of knowledge or tactics but rather she doesn’t fear the outcome.
Azmere jogged along the muddy trail and to the right. He hopped the stream at narrow point and slowed to a creep being aware of every step. He moved with ease and fluidity until he reached the entry to the den. He could still see the girl but just slightly. She had found great cover and Azmere was glad of that. If the wolves hadn’t smelled her yet, he would be amazed. He peered around the corner to realize he could not see the frenzy though the muted sounds of chewing, tearing and the scratching of clawed feet bounced along the rocks until they reached his ears. Not knowing the territory, Azmere wasn’t sure where that placed his targets. He looked at the structure next to him and didn’t see much in the way of cover. He did notice the rocks had a gentle sway at the bottom which he could fit beneath if he crouched. He took a few steps and then stopped. He loosened the knot on his belt which held his club; just in case.
Azmere moved ahead a few feet and stopped. He had a direct line to the wolves and gauged the distance at only ten yards but they also had a direct line to him. This was not a good place. Azmere dipped back out and crossed over to the other side of the stream. He climbed up the back of the rocks and found a spot a few feet behind the young woman. She was looking to him as if waiting for an ok to begin. Azmere drew an arrow and notched it. He drew back and lined up a shot. With the mingling of the animals and the light mist swirling between the slick rocks, he had his doubts about how effective this tactic would prove to be but prayed to Zulrav just the same. He matched his gaze to hers for a moment and wondered some thoughts foreign to his usual progression of eat, ride, sleep, ride, hunt then ride some more. The green made him feel lost and at home all at the same time. He blinked and nodded his head once towards the wolves indicating that she should shoot first.
Azmere continued to move with a methodical pace. He went through the quiver he was wearing and removed seven game arrows. He dug around in the yvas bag and found his winter blanket and unfurled it on the yvas. He swapped the game arrows for broad arrows of the same number. He placed all of the broad-tipped shafts into his quiver and slid it around where he liked it then rolled the game arrows back up in the blanket. Azmere put the blanket away and went through the quick process of checking Vihar. He eyed the knots and tested the elasticity of the string while taking a close look at the seat and notch pad. Feeling that it was in good enough shape for a scuffle, Azmere set it down on the yvas.
The archer removed his gloves then untied the string of his shirt and peeled it off carefully slipping the fabric beneath the strap of his quiver. It was his only shirt and he didn’t want to rip it. Azmere folded the article of clothing neatly and tucked it away into his backpack. He turned and walked a few steps away from the drag mark and squatted down over the mud. Without hesitation, Azmere scooped up the wet earth and smeared it across his chest, down his arms, on his boots and even on his face. He looked up and saw the young woman darting carefully through the mud towards the left rock face. Azmere smirked. It’s not what he meant but it should mask the sound of her approach. Not having very much social interaction under his belt, Azmere mad a note to be more concise with his thoughts to other people.
Satisfied with the mess he had made of himself, Azmere rose and turned back to Hephiestian. He tightened the strap on his quiver and grabbed his bow then walked to the front of the horse and patted the beast tenderly. His eyes told the strider all it needed to know. Hephiestian moved slowly away turning to go in the direction of the other stallion. Azmere turned towards the gulch just in time to watch his partner scampering up the rocks. He admired her resolve and was suddenly blessed with an epiphany. She’s fearless. That’s why she rushes into everything. It’s not a lack of knowledge or tactics but rather she doesn’t fear the outcome.
Azmere jogged along the muddy trail and to the right. He hopped the stream at narrow point and slowed to a creep being aware of every step. He moved with ease and fluidity until he reached the entry to the den. He could still see the girl but just slightly. She had found great cover and Azmere was glad of that. If the wolves hadn’t smelled her yet, he would be amazed. He peered around the corner to realize he could not see the frenzy though the muted sounds of chewing, tearing and the scratching of clawed feet bounced along the rocks until they reached his ears. Not knowing the territory, Azmere wasn’t sure where that placed his targets. He looked at the structure next to him and didn’t see much in the way of cover. He did notice the rocks had a gentle sway at the bottom which he could fit beneath if he crouched. He took a few steps and then stopped. He loosened the knot on his belt which held his club; just in case.
Azmere moved ahead a few feet and stopped. He had a direct line to the wolves and gauged the distance at only ten yards but they also had a direct line to him. This was not a good place. Azmere dipped back out and crossed over to the other side of the stream. He climbed up the back of the rocks and found a spot a few feet behind the young woman. She was looking to him as if waiting for an ok to begin. Azmere drew an arrow and notched it. He drew back and lined up a shot. With the mingling of the animals and the light mist swirling between the slick rocks, he had his doubts about how effective this tactic would prove to be but prayed to Zulrav just the same. He matched his gaze to hers for a moment and wondered some thoughts foreign to his usual progression of eat, ride, sleep, ride, hunt then ride some more. The green made him feel lost and at home all at the same time. He blinked and nodded his head once towards the wolves indicating that she should shoot first.
It's you and me against the world.