6th Day of Summer, 514 AV
Morning, 11th Bell
Morning, 11th Bell
"Fly high bird, fly high, into a drifting cloud. Your feathers scorched by golden sand, ever searching through endless heat...” There was something in Nayato's eyes that hinted at being privy to a lost secret, and he had been speaking the same short poem in his native language of Tawna. He repeated what sounded like melodic gibberish.With each completion of the saying he elongated a word here or accentuating a word there, however, he never did the same thing twice. Only using his feelings to give meaning to the words as he 'spoke the music' as was common for the Chaktawe's cultural way of singing.
HIs words shifted from Tawna to the human common language. "The sands swept high, cut by a single birds cry, the sands rolled high, into the sky. The cloud was lost, the cloud was lost. A Mirage which tricked the eye. Our hope not lost, the bird, so brave. Absent eyes seek to see another day.” Nayato's voice was absent of melody, however it was distinctly clear that he was speaking a song. Syna shone brightly from above, her light grazing softly against the his skin. It was such a lovely day that he had decided to remove his armor, leaving it inside up his tent as he sat crosslegged and bare chested in front of a circle of stones that would eventually become his camp fire once it was lit.
To his right side, lounging on its back, was his ever loyal dog companion named Osawa. The large Akinva Deerstalker happily accepting a vigorus belly rub from Nayato. His hand lightly scratching at Osawa's rib cage which seemed to spur the dogs hide right foot into action; violently flailing into the air as it was scratched into pure doggy bliss. To his left laid his shortbow and quiver of arrows. Squire Nayato was glad when his patron Knight Ser Cagus had given him the day to go train with his bow in anyway the squire saw fit, so it was only natural that he set up camp to go hunting.
This moment he ceased scratching the dogs belly, the hunting dog rolled to its side lazily flopping over, it was a hilarious sight to see in Nayato's openion as the creature soon stood up on all fours to lick and nudge at his hand. Soon though the Squire joined Osawa by raising to his feet. He slipped his quiver onto his back before griping his shortbow in his right hand. A sharp piercing whistle caused Osawa's ears to fold back. The whistle was a command to be on guard which explained why its tail stopped wagging.
"The sands swept high, cut by a single birds cry, the sands rolled high, into the sky. The cloud was lost, the cloud was lost. A Mirage which tricked the eye. Our hope not lost, the bird, so brave. Absent eyes seek to see another day.” He spoke softly in an arid whisper, although soft, was just as musical as before while walking forward to go begin the hunt. His companion following behind him with nose to the ground in attempt to sniff out danger.
He had barely walked a few meters from his campsite before something caught his attention at the base of a tree. Nayato crouched low to the ground, fingers dipping into a depression on the ground. He brushed at it swat away loose foliage. The depression was some type of animal track. He leaned in closer to try and make out what type of creatures visited the clearing, outlining the print with his index finger.
"The sands swept high, cut by a single birds cry, the sands rolled high, into the sky. The cloud was lost, the cloud was lost. A Mirage which tricked the eye. Our hope not lost, the bird, so brave. Absent eyes seek to see another day.” This time speaking the words in Tawna as he stood up to look down at the track.