Completed A Pleasant Lie

[Khida]

Winter 20, 516 AV
morning

A torrential downpour had beaten on the pavilion all through the preceding day and night; even the Striders had been brought within for shelter from the raging storm. Dawn had brought a kind of relief, in that the rain had stopped at last. Two days of constant cloudburst put a lie to the name, and boded as poorly for all that lived on the plains as did the rest of this strange, unnatural weather.

The air remained heated, even before Syna's first light brightened lingering clouds, a heat made all the more untenable by the sheer weight of that air. Khida emerged from the pavilion dressed in as little as she could manage, and still meet their wife's approval -- vest and trousers, selected for letting her skin breathe more than anything else. She kept her wool socks despite their tendency to hold in warmth, because they would be comfortable even if her feet got wet... and given the past two days, her feet would get wet.

Outside the pavilion, a dense haze obscured her vision, no more welcome to the Kelvic than the extended storm had been. Even with Sephra, she would be able to see nothing... by her standards, anyway. Truthfully, she could see the next pavilion over, and shadows of pavilions beyond that, but the lack of clear sight distinctly chafed. Still, with the storm having relented, there were things that needed doing, and they would not necessarily wait for the mist to clear.

First to depart the pavilion that she was, Khida let the Striders free from the section of the tent that provided them shelter. Her own did not go far, knowing herself to be wanted. The Kelvic ducked back within to fetch Sephra's gear, and her own, but didn't tack the horse up right away. Rather, she began with brush and currycomb, the better to spend a moment in mutual peace before tackling the probable disappointments of the day.

Hunting was difficult by nature, as prey needed to survive just as much as predator needed to succeed. The strange weather of this season had brought even more failures for her than usual, be her efforts by trap or talon or bow. Today? Today Khida expected to find nothing -- but she would try nonetheless, because expectations were not certainties.

First, though, she attended to her horse. The currycomb, she ran in slow circles through Sephra's coat, beginning at her neck and working backwards to her haunches. It loosened up the mare's sweat-stickied hair, and places where she'd gotten dirt in her coat. A stiff-bristled brush followed, run with the grain of the hair to knock out everything the currycomb had loosened. Khida also offered to brush the mare's head with a softer brush, which Sephra leaned into contentedly. By that point, she pretty much had to take a comb to the horse's mane and tail as well, working out knots and tangles that had caught up the longer hairs. And then there were the hooves -- which hadn't picked up anything notable given the past two days, but she ran the hoofpick over each hoof anyway, removing what dirt was there.

By the time Khida finished all that, Syna had definitely risen above the horizon -- although the difference was hard to discern, between the clouds above and mist below.

ledgervest, medium wool, tawny - 0.68 gm
trousers, linen, brown - 1.2 gm
undergarments, linen, undyed, 2x - 0.2 gm
total = 2.08 gm

Khida space Common | Pavi
other space Common | Pavi

[Khida]

Tack followed: pad beneath, the yvas proper over top, bags attached to either side. Her bow in its case, and the accoutrements with which to make it useful; not that she expected to use them. The bolas might prove more useful... or not. Rope for snares, her hunting knife, plus the waterskin and flint-and-steel that -- according to their wife -- Khida ought to always take everywhere, 'just in case'. They took up little enough space in a bag, so it was a small concession to make.

Then it was time for her to get on the horse, vaulting up in that manner that wasn't quite like launching herself into flight. Sephra gave the rider the time she needed to center herself, still thinking through her cues and, more importantly, the reflexive actions she was not to do. Like cling to the broad-backed beast. Finally, Khida drew in a breath, raised her gaze to the space beyond the horse's ears, and picked herself up in the way that told the horse she was ready to move forward.

Sephra obliged readily, dry grasses crunching under the four-beated paced of her hooves. She walked until the Dawnwhisper camp faded to less than a shadow in the mist, and then the city as well, the world around them curiously bleached about its edges. There she continued to walk, choosing not to subject her rider to the faster but more jarring trot -- something Khida was momentarily grateful for.

In truth, the Kelvic suspected neither of them wanted to move any more quickly through the concealing haze than was strictly necessary.

As they progressed, Khida kept part of her attention on the grasses around them, tuned for motion and sounds that might herald opportunity or danger alike. The rest of her thoughts turned towards options -- where she might find game, given the time of day and the... peculiar weather conditions. It would be difficult to see her prey in this fog, but by the same token, a hunter would also be harder to spot.

Perhaps the weather could be used to her advantage after all...

Sound reached Khida's ears, short-circuiting her thoughts: a slight rustle, surreptitious, somewhat muffled by distance or haze or both at once. She sat back, the horse coming to a halt with her own ears perked curiously; the rider hardly noticed, her attention cast in the direction of the sound.

Predator? Or prospective prey?

Intrigued, Khida cued her horse to resume walking, along with the shift in weight that signaled a turn in the appropriate direction. Her eyes scanned the grasses intently, looking for anything out of place, any sign of the sound's source...

...and after a few chimes, they finally came upon a break in the grasses, a narrow ribbon of flattened and broken foliage which signified a route frequently traveled. Once more directing the Strider to halt, Khida dismounted, the better to examine the trail in detail. It was narrow, likely made by many but smaller feet; she followed it for several paces, scrutinizing the ground closely until she found an actual impression in the mud. Paired oblong marks, pointed at one end, overlapping where feet hit in sequence. Too small to be elk; distinctly curved on the inner edge, unlike what she knew of antelope. Deer.

Khida sat back on her heels, contemplating the possibilities before her. She could attempt the deer, if deer it was that had made the sound. Or she could keep going, seeking other game...

...well, it really wasn't that difficult a quandary. When opportunity presented itself, one made one's best attempt.

Khida space Common | Pavi
other space Common | Pavi

[Khida]

Deer called for the bow, and perhaps the bolas. Returning to her Strider, steps as quiet as she could manage, Khida girded herself with the rest of her equipment, those things a human needed to hunt. She took extra time over the bow, testing its trueness and ensuring the draw felt as it should; she had been told, back when, that it did not appreciate damp conditions, but the Kelvic had begun to suspect that was not in fact true. Or perhaps she had taken the interpretation too literally, and the man had meant drenching it, not just having the bow out in fog or mild rain.

Here and now, in her hands, the weapon certainly behaved as her (limited) experience said it should. That seemed a mark in favor of proceeding.

Khida signaled for Sephra to here, wait, then continued on. Crouching down below the level of the grasses, she moved out along the trail, ears straining for any further sounds from her surroundings. The mist remained quiet, its muffling calm not even disturbed by songbirds; only the noise of her own movements reached the Kelvic's ears, despite everything she did to quiet them. She moved slowly, as smoothly as circumstances allowed, what with the damp earth underfoot and her own need to periodically study the trail. There seemed a trick to not making the mud squelch when she lifted her feet, mostly in whether her heels had landed first, and how quickly she lifted them after. Stepping with her toes and carefully rolling each foot both down and back up seemed to help, at least a little. Making sure she walked on the grass roots, and not on the more exposed patches of trail, helped even more.

So she proceeded, until circumstances changed -- or rather, her understanding of them did.

There was someone else stalking her prey.

Half a footprint lay plain to see in a patch of mud -- a human footprint, broad and blunt-ended, its toes concealed by the curve of a shoe. Larger and deeper than any of her own, it suggested its owner was of size and weight fitting for a Drykas male. It seemed fresh, too, the muddy edges of the impression hardly dried out at all.

Still she heard nothing from the grasses. Perhaps a hunt had already happened, despite the early bell; perhaps she stalked not a deer but its ghostly memory, preserved in the imprints it had left on the earth. Khida couldn't know until she reached the end of the tracks, until she found either deer or signs of a kill. So continued on, one slow step at a time, straining her senses -- sight, sound, smell, the Kelvic would gladly take anything that gave her a better sense of what was going on.

There! -- a shape in the mist, no more than a vague shadow. She froze, entirely motionless save for the slowest of breaths, evaluating it and waiting to see if she had attracted notice. The shadow seemed small in profile, perhaps a head on a long neck, and faintly brownish in hue -- was it the deer she sought?

Anticipation buoyed Khida; already she was as close to the grazer as she had ever managed to attain. With a little more luck, she might yet get within reasonable range for a shot. Even as that thought crossed her mind, though, something else interrupted -- another shape rising out of the mist, out of concealment in the grasses, closer by far than her prospective prey. Another hunter, taller than she, brown-haired and plainly dressed, with strikingly unnatural brilliance in his eyes --

Ah. Yes.

Surprise fell away before inevitability as mist before the sun, replaced by the certain strength of rightness.

Of course he was here. Where else would he be?

And if some part of the Kelvic's soul knew the lie presented to her for what it was, knew the bond remained stretched and drawn across the interminable distance of their separation, it was a part muffled entirely beneath the sentiment of what should be.

Khida space Common | Pavi
other space Common | Pavi

[Khida]

Wait, the hunter signed, you stay, I go around. He mimed an underhand throwing motion, to which Khida nodded, understanding the intent. Her gaze lingered on the hunter as he slipped away through the grasses, quieter than she might ever be; and lingered still after the stalks had ceased shivering, fog and foliage screening him entirely from view.

Waiting, she heard nothing in the mist-shrouded atmosphere. Had he gone far enough, gotten into whatever position he intended? Bow tucked out of the way over her shoulder, Khida weighed the bolas in her hand, letting the ticks pass while she contemplated the weapon.

What was the best way to handle this thing, anyway?

She understood the principle; throw it, tangle the legs of your prey, perhaps even break bones or knock it out. It had something of a small handle at the center, where the three chains connected, so Khida shifted her grip there. Seemed like the reasonable thing to do. The shadow of the deer remained in its same place, head raised, seeming attentive but not alarmed enough to move. She still heard nothing.

Ticks stretched. Surely he was ready now. Khida settled her weight back, focusing her attention upon their quarry. The distance it must be at, for its head to appear there. The likely placement of its forelegs beneath that head, nearest of all to her position. The weight of the bolas in her hand, and how it might fly through the grass -- readily, she thought, given the mass of metal it embodied. She had seen hunters among the Drykas sling them overhead to gain momentum, and readied herself to do the same.

Before actually doing anything, though, Khida visualized her goal, the same as she would for firing an arrow. She would raise the bolas, cast it forward, entangle her prey thus and still it for the hunter to dispatch. She played through the sequence again, shaping each moment distinctly -- and then a third time, now letting mind direct body, intention become action. The bolas whipped around and launched forward, released... not precisely on the angle she'd intended. They crashed through the grass to one side of the deer, the creature rearing up in shock at the heavy missile's close approach. Before it could turn startle into bound, however, a muted thunk rose from the fog and the beast toppled over.

Khida released a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. Today, she would bring back a kill -- properly gained in partnership, no less --

-- and better still, she would not be coming home alone.

But first things first. Khida moved forward, the grasses parting before her to reveal the deer's carcass, the hunter already beside it, looking over the remains of his javelin. Apparently their quarry had fallen on it, snapping the shaft in two. While he tended to the carcass, she moved on, following the trail of broken stalks her bolas had left behind. At least the thing was far easier to track down than any lost arrow. Picking it up, she headed back, summoning Sephra to them with a whistle. She put the bolas away and returned her archery gear to storage on the yvas, then looked to the hunter for his intentions.

He gestured for Khida to mount, so she did, casting him a baffled look once she'd settled into place atop her Strider.

The hunter proceeded to heft their kill up, slinging it across the Strider's withers in front of her. It was not a large deer, as the grazers went, but it still had a definite weight where it rested against her knees. For her part, Sephra did not seem to mind the weight; she stood rock-steady, with no more than what Khida took as a questioning angle to her ears.

The hunter signed his intention to walk, and they turned their course for home.

Khida space Common | Pavi
other space Common | Pavi

[Khida]

The horse walked; the deer's carcass hung steady at their ambling gait, not much prone to jostling or sliding around. It nonetheless featured very strongly in Khida's awareness for a while, unused as she was to riding with anything but herself atop the yvas; she was afraid it would slide and fall. Just by being there, it crowded her seat; she sat stiff, her legs in particular rigid as she had thought them trained not to be. It took time for her to complete that adjustment, that adaptation; time in which they simply continued to walk in silent camaraderie.

They were nearly to the city by the time she turned much of her focus outwards again. The hunter, or perhaps the horse, had guided them towards the northern portion of the city. They passed across Emerald and Topaz branches, the violet-touched tents of Amethyst heralding their final approach to home. Shrouded in mist, curiously sparse of population, the city took on a surreal quality around them; its tents seemed to rise out of nothing and fade back to the same, colors muted by veiling cloud.

If she had been so inclined, Khida might have suspected it a literal ghost town.

As it was, however, the Kelvic strongly anticipated their arrival home. The fresh kill would be welcome, of course, but most wanted of all was the man walking at her side. Their wife would want to show him the son, as well as the other children born in his absence; what Seirei and Taerin would fuss over, Khida could not expect, but they would certainly welcome him home. And Akaidras too, as bereft of his Drykas as the rest of them. For her part, Khida wanted only to bask in his presence, in the rightness of their reunion. Let the humans of the Pavilion have their fuss; she needed only to be.

Soon enough, it was their camp which took shape from the mist, its hearth fire yet quiescent. It didn't seem anyone had settled outside, beyond what was necessary for their morning tasks; Khida could not blame them. She helped the hunter maneuver their kill from Sephra's back, then dismounted herself as well. The horse's ears still sat faintly askew, and now that Khida stood beside, she could see her mouth moving a bit, almost as if chewing. The Kelvic didn't know the significance of that behavior, but it seemed a sign of puzzlement more than anything -- something which puzzled her in turn.

She clicked her tongue to the horse, scratching vigorously at Sephra's neck and head until the Strider seemed to settle and reacquire her normal good humor. The mare whuffed into her hair, apparently appreciative of the attention. Khida turned away to find they stood alone; the hunter had gone inside, presumably, and taken the deer with him. Dismissing the small oddity, she turned her attention back to the horse, removing all her gear in reverse order and giving Sephra a quick brushing, checking each hoof for any inconvenient stones that might have been picked up. None were, and she was able to release the horse to her own recognizance, before lugging all their gear inside.

Inside, where the air was pleasantly warm, and while dim, altogether clear of clinging fog. It was most welcome not to be breathing the heavy cloud any longer. Khida held herself to the entrance chamber, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the more limited lighting. It was also... quiet.

Too quiet.

Khida space Common | Pavi
other space Common | Pavi

[Khida]

She unburdened herself, piece by piece, an odd feeling tickling her spine. Voices murmured, but at hushed volume, without the joyful spirit Khida had expected to find, that spirit which would echo her own. There was no carcass to be seen, neither inside nor out. Anxiety bubbled beneath the odd sensation of her head clearing, as of a fever leaching away, leaving weary lucidity in its wake; she knew something was wrong.

The Kelvic feared she also knew the nature of the something, instinct putting together two and two in a way thought was manifestly unwilling to accept.

No.

She knew what had happened. What she had seen, heard, felt.

Just as she knew what she felt now: stretched, attenuated, thin.

But it couldn't be.

It couldn't.

Khida passed through the pavilion tent, sticking her head into one room after another, brushing past all queries until there were no rooms left. None at all... and no male human in any of them.

She ran back outside, finding no deer in sight -- not anywhere. She caught Sephra's curious attention, but passed the Strider by, seeking one who moved on two feet rather than four. It didn't occur to her to wonder why she didn't know, didn't simply follow the tug of their bond to bring her steps to his side. No more than she wondered why the stretched feeling had faded. She was too caught up in her worries, too busy moving, searching, doing.

There -- there he was, a shadow in the mist, looking over the camp as though it were foreign to him.

Why was he lingering out here, in the humid heat?

Home, she signed, beckoning him to follow. All home, you home, you come.

He seemed as baffled as she felt; signed certainty and set off in her wake. They returned to the pavilion under Sephra's watchful gaze, Khida glancing back twice to ensure he really did follow. They stepped within, and she signed to the man go, welcome all. A wave of her hand indicated the equipment she had yet to fully put away; he gestured understanding, agreement. She bent to separate her gear from the horse's, rose to take it into their room...

He no longer stood there.

But neither had she heard any footfalls. Still no voices -- none at all, in fact, as even the hushed talk of earlier had gone quiet.

An odd ache seemed to be settling in her head, even as suspicion kindled in her heart.

Khida walked into their room, putting her equipment all back in its proper places. On oddly leaden feet, she padded back out and did the same with the horse's gear. Then she moved back into their pavilion's entryway, sitting down with her knees drawn up, back to one cloth wall and her face towards the door.

Another search of the pavilion wouldn't find him, she was certain. He was not in their room, and she knew he wouldn't be in any other.

Their bond stretched taut in a depressingly familiar way, whispering of distance and east.

Khida buried her face in her hands, water welling at the edges of her eyes, realization cutting as deeply as the command which had set the two halves of her heart on such disparate paths. She couldn't fathom what was wrong with her, what essential part had broken that her imagination could so vividly distort experience from reality. But he could not be both here and there, at once standing outside the pavilion, engaged and engaging, and a few heartbeats later returned to such great distance that a sense of intrinsic attenuation became her constant companion.

Oh, how she hated it. Oh, how she despaired.

Nothing had changed.

He was still not here.

Khida space Common | Pavi
other space Common | Pavi

[Rufio]

　　　
　　
　　
　　
　　
　　
　　
　　
　　

g r a d e

xp

Animal Husbandry +2
Logic +2
Planning +2
Organization +2
Horsemanship +1
Riding, Horse +2
Detection +2
Tracking +2
Stealth +2
Hunting +1
Weapon, Bolas +1
Investigation +2

lores

Logic: expectations are not certainties
Wilderness survival: carry flint & steel always
Hunting: Fog may be foe & friend
Composite Shortbow: keep from a soaking
Stealth: step with toes & roll feet smoothly
Stealth: walk on grass-roots & avoid open ground
Weapon, Bolas: raise, aim & cast
Fog Hallucination: mirage of Shahar
The Bond: the ache of missing Shahar


penalties

Khida will feel the "fuzziness" of exhaustion for 6 bells without/4 bells with rest after the fog lifts

So bitter-sweet; I could sob along with Khida.
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