Closed A Different View (Khasr)

[Khida]

Fall 2, 512 AV near dawn For the first time in two seasons, Khida found herself in the proximity of people. Not one or two persons, a number easy to encompass, but a great many -- more than she could hope to count, even were they all to line up and pass helpfully beneath her, one by one. Too many, to sensibilities which had grown accustomed to the empty grasslands; for the entirety of her first day in its proximity, she had satisfied herself with observations made from a distance. A considerable distance, in one dimension or another. Now, she flew up from the shrubbery which had been her evening roost, the closest thing to a tree the immediate area had to offer. While the city boasted many potential higher perches, the falcon had been reticent to occupy one. She climbed into the sky, silhouette dark against the lightening heavens, though not as far as was her usual wont; just far enough that she could see across the breadth of the human congregation. Such a strange city it was, to one raised among the stone and mortar of Ahnatep; its component parts were made of nothing more than canvas and supporting posts, sides rippling with the morning breeze. They were laid out in a manner somewhat like the canopy of a tree, with more pattern than the winding streets of Ahnatep had ever suggested to her. And the horses -- Khida thought there might be as many horses in the city as humans. Another uncountable number, at any rate, and all such values were as good as equal in her reckoning. The horses mostly clumped around the outskirts of the city, arranged according to a rhyme and reason which eluded the soaring raptor. The grasslands had not given her pause when she came upon them, governed as they were by the simple tenets of survival; but this place, this human place, was different and alien, and she hesitated here beyond its edge. It would be simple to turn back around, return to the crater, and continue their simple, wild life; if he came along, Khida thought she would be happy enough, and need nothing else. But -- he had followed the stranger here, presumably because he had finally realized that humans belonged in human places. Circling back around, Khida looked for where he had gone to sleep, wondering if he too had come awake with the approach of dawn. Yesterday, the man had seemed as unsettled by the city as she, which had the odd effect of making Khida feel better: At least she wasn't the only one.

[Colt]

Perhaps it was the smell. Perhaps it was the noise in the background that never seemed to cease. Perhaps it was simply the unease of being near so many of his kind. Whatever the case, the hunter had not slept well that night.

He turned uncomfortably, feeling a headache approaching. Somewhere along the journey to this city he had realized that his “nest” was a tent, but he had no inclination to find out how it worked. He had always used it as a bed, and he saw no reason to change.

Summer’s warmth still clung to the grasses, so there was minimal chill as he shrugged into the open air with a grumble. He arched his back and stretched, bones cracking in protest, doing his best to ignore the general soreness that had settled into his muscles. It was better than yesterday, when their journey had ended, but it was by no means gone.

The sky was a watery grey, though the east was beginning to show hints of purple and pink. Akaidras stood nearby, still dozing and flicking his tail at the odd insect that settled on him. The mass of tents was quieter than it had been yesterday, as there were very few awake at this time, but the sounds of dogs and horses and the occasional yelp of someone who had fallen asleep where they shouldn’t have sent a dull whisper through the air. A whisper that didn’t stop. It set him on edge, accustomed as he was to the silence of the open grasses. There, such whispers meant strange creatures that should be investigated lest they be dangerous. It was discomforting, hearing it constantly. It made him feel like he was always being watched.

He looked up and caught sight of a familiar shape, little more than a displacement of grey against… well, more grey. He chirped in greeting, slightly relieved to be reminded that he was not the only one out of place in this alien world he had found himself in.

There was no familiar rise to stand upon, so he sent the morning call from where he was. Yesterday’s hunting had been clumsy, with new ground to learn and new people to avoid. He hoped today would be better, and he would make sure to keep an eye out for any stray Drykas out to forage this early.

Uneasily, the hunter slipped into the grass.

[Khida]

She saw movement near the hunter's nest, the grasses rustling; apparently he too was awake. Khida spiralled in closer, looking down to see the man scanning the sky in return. He called her over, and she folded her wings in to surrender much of the altitude she had gained. As she glided out into level flight above him, the falcon tried to anticipate what he would want to do today. Morning was a time for hunts, and yesterday they had done poorly. So she thought -- hoped -- that would be how they started today. Indeed, he turned his course away from the cloth tents which sprouted up like some giant colony of mushrooms in the midst of the grasslands, away from the sleeping others of his kind. Out they would go -- but not back to the crater either, unless he had mistaken his directions. A hunt then, plain and simple, unless his motion held some other inscrutable purpose. For now, Khida would presume not. She whistled down at the man, then beat her wings to gain both height and speed, surging ahead of his progress. Dawn was a good time to find creatures stirring, and the cool air was pleasant to fly in, a welcome contrast to the still-remembered height of summer heat. She had expectations -- hopes, at any rate -- of this being a good day. But in these regions near the city, she saw little which wasn't itself associated with the humans. Some finches and sparrows, bold in the morning's quiet, fluttered between stalks, the better to gorge on their ripened seeds. Khida might have settled for one of them herself, but the hunter hadn't shown much interest in the midget birds before. She disregarded them, and turned her attention elsewhere. Off to one side, Khida noticed a track in the grass, the shimmer of something larger moving through the stalks. It seemed too big to be one of the creatures they usually hunted, but the fact that so little else was active piqued her curiosity. The falcon whistled another note to her partner, a neutral alert -- something there, maybe not prey, maybe not predator -- and dropped down for a closer view. It proved to be a hound, there in the grasses, snuffling along at the ground until the falcon's shadow passed overhead. Then it tilted its head back to look up at her, barking once at the bird.

[Colt]

The falcon responded, slicing the air in pursuit of her human.

There were few things around here, at least few things that were large enough to be worth a hunt. Small seed-birds and jays were taking to the fields, but the sheer force that that presence of the Drykas city summoned had warded almost all ground-birds away. Grouse and pheasant were nowhere to be found, and though he happened upon countless tracks and trails none of them were younger than a few days.

His stomach growled insistently, and he cast a look to the falcon above. He assumed that she was hungry, as well, and it felt strange to him that she would wait until he discovered something. He appreciated it, but a slight wave of confusion passed over him that she would put such value on his company. However, a hunt still waited, and the wayward thought vanished when his stomach growled again.

The falcon called. She had seen something.

He turned and followed her lead, automatically making his stride lower to protect his stomach, chest and throat. It could end up being something completely harmless, but it was folly to take chances on the Sea of Grass.

She banked and circled a parting in the waving stalks, and the man moved cautiously to investigate. And almost jumped out of his skin what it barked.

A canine trotted into the open, curiously surveying the bird. It wasn’t large and it wasn’t small, standing perhaps three feet at the shoulder. It was a gentle fawn color, almost the same color as the foliage that surrounded it. The man assessed the creature, and another set of words appeared in his mind.

Dog. Iganu. Deepwoods. Tracker.

The dog saw him and recoiled suddenly, fur standing on end in defense. He blinked at it. It was a lean thing, still fat on the bounty of summer but bearing the promise of leanness when winter arrived. It bore no marks or colored cloth around its neck to mark it as the property of one of the Clans, leading him to assume that it belonged to none. A Clanless creature. Like the falcon. Like himself, he realized with surprise.

He stepped calmly back. If the things attacked he was fairly certain that he would be able to defend himself, but he felt connected to the dog. They were the same in solitude, and the dog relaxed a miniscule amount.

His stomach growled again, loudly this time. He sighed in defeat. There seemed to be no ground-birds for them to hunt. He looked at the land around them. If he could flush something for the falcon, he would have little trouble foraging for himself.

Shimmering black feathers caught his attention. A crow was picking at the dirt nearby for some unseen morsel, and he chirped softly to the raptor above and gestured at the corvid. That should be enough to sate her.

He looked at the dog and tilted his head. After a heartbeat of deliberation, the man dashed at the crow and barked to startle it into flight.

[Khida]

His reaction to her call was all things appropriate -- caution, a wary investigation. The falcon watched on as the man met with the dog, and the dog with the man, what she thought was mutual suspicion in their regard of one another. The dog bristled, she could see, but when the man made no aggressive moves, the dog did him the same courtesy. It was not an encounter that the falcon felt any concern over, and while they were still regarding one another, she tilted away to search for other possible quarry. Khida's quest was shortly interrupted, however, as the man chirped a request for her attention. The peregrine came back around to see what had caught his attention. ...Did he mean the crow, really? It was an unusual choice, but perhaps all they had available; the grasses below seemed to be disappointingly empty this morning. It was maybe not a wise choice, either, as corvids tended to wit and a (merited) dislike for raptors; she'd eaten their ilk before, and likely would again, but the falcon hesitated over it a moment all the same. Nonetheless, her partner dashed forward, committing them both to the attempt; the black-feathered bird looked to him in startled alarm and took to the sky, dark wings rowing against the air. Khida projected its route forward and oriented herself, then tucked her wings in and dropped like a deadly stone. The peregrine closed upon the crow, but the black bird had the wit to watch its aerial surroundings as well as the supposed hazards below: it caught sight of the raptor before she could carry through her strike. By some alchemy of wing and tail adjustments her target moved aside just in time; Khida slashed down past it, black feathers brushing against slate-gray. The crow wobbled in its flight, but recovered and twisted about; as the falcon leveled out of her stoop, her erstwhile quarry cawed outrage and essayed a dive of its own, buzzing the raptor in return for her effrontery in attempting to hunt it.

[Colt]

The crow let loose an offended caw as it rose into the sky. The hunter of the air had changed position in response to his call, and as the black bird ascended she tucked her wings and plummeted. The crow, however, was more aware than it seemed; it narrowly avoided the raptor’s path, then climbed until their positions had been reversed. Once the higher post had been claimed, the crow turned and executed a swoop, slicing past the falcon to illustrate just how displeased it was.

Alright, perhaps trying to take a crow hadn’t been the best idea.

The hunter himself was in no position to really help the falcon, but he didn’t want to just stand and watch a situation that he had gotten her into. With little else available, he picked a rock from the ground and threw it—the crow was now closer, having forsaken advantage to threaten the falcon, and so by hurling the rock at it there wasn’t a great chance of him hitting the falcon by accident. Still, his shot was very far off, close enough for the crow to notice it but so wide of its mark that the thing didn’t even have to move away for safety. However, the thrown stone might provide a distraction—which might, in turn, be enough for her to regain her advantage.

[Khida]

The crow and the falcon were nearly of a size with one another, but very different birds -- in appearance, in attitude, and in abilities. Bereft of the advantage of surprise, Khida broke away from the crow as it started to come back about; in the same level of air as they were now, she had little chance of coming out the victor. A crow would be more maneuverable close-in than she, though the Kelvic could not have explained why that was true. Something small and quick whizzed past at the edge of her vision; both birds hesitated, turning towards it. Whatever it was had already vanished from sight... but it had come from the hunter. Khida didn't pause to question exactly what the object had been -- whether bird, bug, or stone -- or if he had thrown it... for in that moment, she had another entirely unexpected question to address. Did she use the crow's inattention to further her escape... or to make another go at her intended prey? Hunger made the decision for her; before the falcon had even quite framed the issue, she dove with talons outstretched. She didn't have the velocity to strike and immediately kill the other bird, not when only a few feet of height separated them; she would have to hope for some other outcome. Later, Khida might look back at this as a foolish decision, a risk not worth the possible reward; in the moment, she had no attention to spare for introspection, as it was all focused on the black bird. The falcon dove; the crow realized it still faced a true and immediate danger greater than that posed by some peculiar half-glimpsed shadow. It hadn't expected her to try again, and belatedly fell to one side, attempting to slip past the raptor's attack. Khida's talons missed its body, collided with wing, and reflexively closed; the black bird squawked in pained protest. The falcon came away with red on her talons and two black feathers jutting from their grip as she flapped up and turned back. The crow continued to descend, wings no longer generating lift quite as they had before, its path skewing heavily to one side. It made no sounds as it fell into the grasses, perhaps hoping to hide under their cover. Back where the birds had collided, part of another feather floated towards the earth, a forlorn wisp of black clinging to the air as long as it might.

[Jasmine Stormblood]

Soo so sososososososo sorry this took me so long guys. I am normally much better about keeping these things short. Please let me know if I missed anything yall.

 

Colt

XP

• Investigation: 2 XP
• Hunting: 3 XP
• Stealth: 1 XP
• Wilderness Survival: 1 XP

Lores

• Hunting: startling birds for an easier hunt
• Hunting: Prey avoids cities
• Crows are observant of surroundings

 

Khida

XP

• Hunting: 3 XP
• Tactics: 1 XP
• Logic: 1 XP
• Investigation: 1 XP

Lores

• Dawn: a good time to find prey
• Cities create too much noise
• Crows and Falcons are nearly the same size

Miscellaneous

• + 2 lb Crow