Winter 494AV
Winter has come harsh on the Sea of Grass. By the time the first frost has set in game has already become scarce and now it has become dangerously close to none. For the survival of the Marridius Pavilion to survive the must send out their hunters farther than ever before, to the edge of the territory.
"My dear friends, the time has come to act. The gods show no favor to is so will make our own! All of our warriors will venture out and bring back to very life of this family. Fail! And do not return!" Constantine Marridius, Patriarch of the pavilion, spoke hard and proud to the warriors which stand before him. The people were in awe at his words, none knew if he would really exile one that returned empty handed, but it was for his family and family comes first for a Drykas. Among the crowd stood Desmus, son of Constantine, who was prepared for the hunt to come. He was only 14 but his skill was great and he was one that was going the farthest. Desmus looked at his father and with an understanding nod he left and began to make his way to his Strider, Drakor.
Desmus had left the camp and rode hard for three days before even stopping long even to make camp. He would make this his home for a short time, a small clearing made in the ice nipped grass. He slowly set the tent up taking his rope and tarp and tent slowly and standing them up. After longer than it should have took camp was set and the first hunt would start tomorrow.
As the morning sun rose Desmus was already gone. He had picked up the trail of a Buck and had been pursuing him all morning. The cold made tracking easier. The brittle grass broke easy so it was easy to tell which direction the Buck went. The thin white powder that covered the ground made it easy for him to follow the foot prints. Desmus sleaked through the grass make no noise of his presence. He rounded a small dirt mound and there it was. The Buck was of decent size, it would not be enough for the village alone but it was a good start. Desmus drew his bow from his back, slowly to make no sound. He reached into his quiver and pulled and arrow placing it in the bow slowly. He then drew the string back as far as possible aiming down the arrow.
He released the arrow. It whirled towards the Buck almost to him but not. The arrow struck the ground beside the Buck. It sprang forward beigining to run. Desmus drew quick aimed fast and let another fly. This time it was a hit.
The Buck did not run far so it took no time to track it. Once he got back to camp he skinned it and burried the meat to preserve it in the cold. It was rge first of many successful hunts.