59th of Spring, 516 AV
Kai’Neha Valley
Kai’Neha Valley
There was a tune floating on the wind. Zulrav was singing a love song for Semele that spoke of her beautiful skin and warm embrace. Those who knew how to listen could feel the emotion as it raked across their skin and tossed their hair leaving only pleasant memories of encounters that make men sweat and women blush. It raised awareness that there was an appreciation to be had for knowing love, even if it was fleeting. The whistling gusts brought refreshment to the burdened causing a sigh of relief as tired eyes closed for a moment. Somewhere there was humming that seemed to mimic the Father of Storms in his serenade. The sweet tones laced into the swirling air with a grace that didn’t cheapen the expression nor detract from its beauty. One man watched the subtle heaving of a tanned chest as it produced the notes without a care for the rest of the world.
“Shhh!” A brutal hiss broke the melody and drew all of the immediate focus to a middle-aged Drykas. His dark eyes bore into the young woman; the source of the humming. She turned her emerald gaze in his direction and rolled the orbs in manner to suggest frustration but she quieted nonetheless. Two young men crouched near the pair simply watched the interaction. One was tall and thin, his hair was long and wavy with a few wraps tied in and he bore a simple windmark along his side. He clutched a spear in one hand and two more in the other. His eyes never strayed from the girl. There was no doubt in the mind of the rest of the group that he was captivated by the young maiden. The other young man was a bit shorter but much larger in build. He was scarred along his shoulder, neck and face and his arm was covered in a very intricate windmark depicting several milestones in his life. He watched the girl and the older man but with a detached observance that could only be classified as educational.
Azmere crept over next to the older man and apparent leader of the venture. The dark eyes were tracing something but the younger man could not follow the gaze. As the wind continued to blow the blades of grass against one another, the hush that was so calming suddenly became a bit unnerving. Azmere was the archer in the group but Tyrael was the leader of them. His age, experience and resolve were unmatched amidst the youngsters; though Krysta might be more stubborn her father. Paedon was the youngest and he was only along because Asmodeus insisted that the neighbor boy be allowed to follow Azmere on his hunt. Last winter, Tyrael’s oldest son was killed by a spearback and since then their small pavilion has had trouble keeping food in their bellies. When the old storm warden heard this, he approached Tyrael and offered his grandson, Azmere, as a hunter to assist until something more permanent could be arranged. Tyrael hesitantly agreed to terms that paid Azmere half of what a hunter should make. The young man argued but did as his ankal instructed which is why he was sitting flank to Tyrael.
The older man motioned ahead for the others to watch. Azmere turned his head and stared out into the expanse of tall grasses. In the valley, there was very little in the way of landmarks so it wasn’t like he could point at an object but Azmere and the other two scoured the landscape for whatever caught the older man’s attention. Suddenly, Azmere saw it. He brought his legs beneath his body into a tight crouch and retrieved an arrow from his quiver.
As a child, he often used a traditional grip which utilized the thumb, index and middle fingers. They acted as a vice against one another and while it offered a good deal of control, it was clumsy on horseback and a might slow for the Drykas’ taste. He began to experiment and started using his thumb almost exclusively. With a piece of leather, he fashioned a ring on his thumb that allows him to draw an arrow and lay it on the thumb side of the bow. The thumb slides under the notch and the index finger wraps over the top of the shaft and thumb. The ring worn on his thumb catches the string on the pull. It took some getting used to but was far faster of a draw and load especially over trying to grasp an arrow between the index and middle fingers. The only difference is with the traditional draw and grip, the arrow is fired from eye level. The thumb or ring draw is fired from chest level. The sighting is essentially the same because a true archer always holds his bow arm straight.
Tyrael placed his and on the arm of the scarred man. Azmere hadn’t removed the arrow yet and the contrasting gaze of blue and gold looked to the older man with a silent question. The more experienced hunter gave a nod in understanding and began to sign with Pavi as well as giving directional signs. Azmere followed closely to the instructions as did Krysta and Paedon. The idea was simple and it made sense to Azmere. He was to visit the web to make sure the creature was alone. If there were more in the area or if there were cubs, the plan would change. As it stood, Azmere and Paedon would retrieve their striders and move down the far side of the hill and wait in the tall grass. Tyrael and his daughter would create a ruckus from their present location to distract the creature. This would be the sign for Azmere to fire an arrow and Paedon to charge. Azmere would cover the young man’s move while Tyrael and Krysta came down from the flank. If a few arrows and spears didn’t work, they would just ride circles around the beast until it was put down. Tyrael locked eyes which each one and did not move on until he received some kind of confirmation that they understood.
Textbox courtesy of Firenze
