Closed A Hunting We Will Go

[Mealla Stormsong]

Mealla tried not to pull a face as she snatched the arrow back, disgusted by the sheer amount of drool that coated it, and by the fact that it had been in a dog’s –albeit a Kelvic one- mouth. She didn’t want to imagine what else it was covered in, but given how dogs had a tendency to lick their own arses... Well, she was hard-pressed to suppress a shudder as she gingerly held the arrow between her thumb and forefinger, inspecting it for any teeth-marks. It was as good as ruined, she decided, especially since arrows were not designed to be dragged through the dirt. The tip was no doubt blunt. When this was over, the Kelvic was going to replace it. She was not going to settle for a stained and teeth-marked arrow. Still repressing the urge to pull a face, Mealla wiped it quickly, inconspicuously, against her trouser leg – trousers could be washed – before tying it with the other arrows and nudging Andraste forward to inspect the lovely little diagram the scabby little mutt had drawn. The actual drawings weren’t good, but Mealla got the gist of it, or, at least, she thought she did. Hunting was a pretty universal language anyway. You tracked the creature, tried not to be heard, got close enough and then shot it, and then, voila, done. She just wasn’t particularly keen on following a dog’s orders, even it was Kelvic, but she could concede that it –or she – likely had better tracking skills than her. There was no way that her senses would be able to pick up on the boar as easily as the Kelvic’s, but then she had the breezes to help her, though sometimes they were hard to understand, and sometimes they just didn’t always comply with her wishes. She looked over the picture one last time, and nodded, guiding Andraste away with her knees. She gave the Kelvic a quick, short smile, before tilting her head in the direction the boar had disappeared in. “You lead then. I follow.” She felt her heart start to pound, the excitement and anticipation already beginning. Oh, she did love to hunt.

[Rhy]

Rhy nodded and started on ahead where she left off. Now that the mare had unknowingly trampled the grass so thoroughly when she cut Rhy off, the Kelvic is relying almost exclusively on scent. It was slow going, and there are a few chimes before she finds a usable track. But when she does she gives one short, excited bark and plows ahead. She is moving no faster then a human at a jog in an effort to keep the line and not make mistakes. But she is pleased to find the boar did take her nudging and has veered further into her territory, leading right back to Riverfall. Unfortunatly, it is also heading to the river and Kabrin road. Such a high traffic area will make it very, very hard to keep the line. Especially for a novice hunter such as herself. She shoots a glance back at the Drykas. The last ting she wants to do is let on that she is working with a limited amount of skill and experience. But there is nothing for it. Other then brief stops around flats of crushed vegetation, upturned stones and hoof prints she keeps her pace. And then she hits the road. Confused and frustrated, the kelvic keeps her nose to the ground and runs in ever widening circles trying to pick up a trace again. The road is too hard packed for hoof prints, has the confused scent of people, horses and wears, and the grass on either side is such a mangled mess that she has very little hope to ever follow from the other side. Whining with her ears down she looks around to the Drykas for help. Any sort of plan she can think of would be useful. Maybe a higher vantage means she can see something that Rhy can't. Dejected, she sits her ass down in the middle of the road with a soft moan and an imploring look at Mealla.

[Mealla Stormsong]

Mealla was used to hunting alone, to do doing as she pleased and going her own way, so this was new to her. She wasn’t good at taking orders either, especially not from a dog, and the thought made a bitter smile twist her lips. Sometimes the gods threw strange things at her, but hunting with a dog that could turn into an annoying human, no matter what it was like, was better than no hunting at all, and anything was better than being in Riverfall. Mealla still did not like the city, with its walls, its streets, and its many, many people. She urged Andraste on after the Kelvic, using only her knees and her legs to guide the horse, her hands on the bow. Her back was straight, her eyes alert, although there wasn’t much reason to be. The breezes were silent – no hint whatsoever of any life about. It seemed the boar was long gone. Soon, the grass gave way to road – another thing that Mealla did not care for – and Andraste’s hooves rang out on the stones. If the boar was about, then it would definitely have gone now. Animals did not have a tendency to venture close to people. They weren’t stupid. Mealla slowed Andraste to a halt, not seeing the point in going any further, and looked about a bit, her eyes going over the roads to see if there might, just might, be a sign, but, of course, there was nothing, and so, with a sigh, she turned to the Kelvic. “Go back way came?” she suggested. “Not been here. Try by river, perhaps?” And hopefully they’d be lucky then, and, when they got closer, she’d use the breezes to mask their scent. She’d done it before, and it had worked. She simply moved the breezes so that they blew away from the creature’s nose. “Try again. Go where less people. Boar never here.”

[Rhy]

Rhy snorts, dejected to have lost the boar once again. Of course the Drykas is right. And she doesn't really like when the Drykas is right. Taking a new heading she passes to the other side of the road, towards the river. If this is a clever old boar, and she's sure it is, it will stick with the river. One sure fire way to lose a predator is to wade in moving water. The low burble rises into a dull roar of the a wide, powerful river. She can't imagine anyone clinging to the shores without being swept away. And for a moment she has the sneaking suspicion that thats where her prize went. She casts left and right with her nose, peering upstream, away from the city. Nothing. She does a cursory downstream sweep as well, just to be through, and does a double take. Stopping and peering into the fast water with a slitted stare. What she first took for oddly shaped debris, is paddling. Instead of running upstream, away from the city, the pig had let itself be carried away in the water. Moving downstream at a fantastic rate, hugging the shoreline and kicking away upstream to control its escape. Once it judges itself to have a decent head start, it pulls itself to shore, shakes its bristly hide, and wanders off. Not even having the decency to be properly worried about two fearsome hunters. All that running this morning made him cocky. Rhy gnashes her teeth in spite, giving Mealla a long, level look. Now would be a great time to get out her bow and kick its spiky hide.

[Mealla Stormsong]

Mealla did not immediately follow, her gaze flicking back to the road and surrounding grasses, trying to see if she could see any footprints, marks, flattened grass, broken twigs- any sign to show that the boar had passed by. She was beginning to wonder if the Kelvic was as new and unskilled to hunting as she was, because surely they would have come across the boar by now? Boars didn’t exactly blend in with a road. They were big, cumbersome, hard to hide. They could hide in long grass, yes, but blend in with a road-? Never. That would be too hard a task. It was why they usually stayed away from civilisation, with its roads and unnatural things that made hiding hard. With one last glance at her surroundings, Mealla urged Andraste on once more, using only the pressure of her knees and legs to guide the mare. Her bow was still strung, an arrow nocked, the shaft resting lengthways across the yvas so that she could raise it at a moment’s notice and shoot, though likely, with her skill, it would only miss or catch a glancing blow. Her eyes continued to look about her, searching, watching, even as all her other senses strained, trying to pick up any sound, any smell, anything to give the boar away. Hoof beats, an exhaling of breath, a snort, the earthy smell of dirt, flesh... but there was nothing, and the winds were just as silent, though she begged them to talk to her, to reach out, search, and give her sign. Perhaps a boar wasn’t important enough for their notice. She never knew, because sometimes they chose to listen to her, speak to her, and other times they refused to even so much acknowledge her; too wilful and powerful for her to tame. She just had to hope that their silence really was because there was nothing, because otherwise what type of Stormwarden was she? Giving up, she turned Andraste and pushed her into a canter, the mare's hooves once more ringing out on the road. Mealla knew that she should have gotten something to muffle the sound of the mare’s hoof beats – a cloth stuffed into each hoof, wrapped, tied and secure – but she hadn’t exactly expected to venture so close to the city, and so close to the roads. Hunting was supposed to be all about being in the wilds, with only nature for company. This was almost unreal: a joke hunt. Finally, she caught up with the Kelvic, her thoughts once again landing on the notion that perhaps the creature really wasn’t as good at hunting as it made out. Once level, she slowed Andraste to a halt, her eyes following the Kelvic’s to where the boar struggled through the waters, and then left them, climbing up onto the far bank. She thought briefly about sending Andraste in after – the horse could swim – to be closer, nearer, so that there was less chance of losing it, missing it, if she sent arrows after, but she wasn’t willing to risk the Strider. The boar had horns, after all, tusks, that could tear and rip into flesh, maim and kill. She'd seen what they could do before, to a man, and Andraste came before all. No boar was worth her life. Nothing was. It could attack when they were most vulnerable; as they were just leaving the waters, and that wouldn't do. Instead, Mealla raised her bow, drawing her string back to her ear and sighting, trying to take in the rapid movement of the boar as it trotted along the bank and away, following the curve of the river. The bow tracked downstream, the arrow tip quivering slightly from the strain of keeping the string pulled back, and Mealla aimed it slightly ahead of the boar, and then released. The arrow sailed ahead, only to plop into the water, and she cursed. An arrow lost. Brilliant. She gritted her teeth, adjusted her aim, her hand tightening on the bow stave, steadying herself, before she sent another arrow sailing over the water. This time it hit, thumping into the creature’s hide, though nowhere to kill it. It let out a grunt, and continued to trot on, stopping only for a moment. Mealla kicked Andraste on, moved her further downstream, level with the boar, though just ahead, taking barely a second to draw her to a halt and send another arrow flying, and another and another and another in quick succession. One glanced off it, two, the third hit it in its flank, wounding it only, not deep, before the fourth hit true, taking it in the neck, the thick metal head piercing through its toughened hide. There was another grunt, and the animal struggled for a moment before becoming limp and falling, red staining its hide from where the many arrow littered it. Mealla tried to hide her smile of success as she turned back to the Kelvic, but she couldn’t. She positively beamed, proud of herself, wanting nothing more than to let out a whoop of delight. She had downed it all by herself. She lowered her bow, unstrung it, and tied back onto the yvas, before she learnt forward and flung her arms around Andraste’s neck, hugging the horse, giving into her joy. She’d kill the boar. Her. Her alone. Still grinning, she pointed towards the boar and said, in her most clear common, “Go fetch,” expecting the Kelvic to obey. She had, after all, done most of the work. “You swim, yes?” Perhaps the Kelvic wasn’t a hunting dog, but a retriever, and that was what retrievers did, was it not? Fetched? “Go. Go on. Fetch!” She grinned again.

[Rhy]

Rhy's already bad mood drops dramatically when the first arrow hit the water with a splash. She's thinking about the last arrow the woman fired, aiming for the boar and nearly hitting her instead. But the Strider is in hot pursuit, and the humans arm arced back for another strike. So Rhy sits down and settles for the long wait. If all else fails, she's sure the woman could bat her pretty grey eyes and chew through its throat with her teeth. The little band of horse, human and pig get steadily farther away. The unfortunate pig dressed like a hedgehog with a bevy of arrows sticking from its hide. Until finally, with a grunt and a sigh that carries to the dogs ears with the breeze, the creature rolls over and dies in what she could only describe as a lazy way. As if it threw its metaphorical hands up with a loud "screw this" and just gave up under the onslaught. Rhy shifts to human right there. Whats the use of teeth and claws when dinner is already served? But the Kelvic does give a little one-shot cheer. The devil is felled and she's not even out of breath! A lucky shot for sure. Then Mealla tells her to fetch. Rhy throws back her head and lets out a loud bark of a laugh. "Fetch? Sure, Drykas, sure." She's played fetch before. She rather enjoys the sport, actually. But being smiled at in such a highly disturbing way and demanded to fetch? Thats new. She knows it would be proper to be offended, but can't quite determine why she should be. Its probably just because the Drykas can't get her hands dirty, if the way she held the arrow that was in her mouth is any indication. Oh well, she's rather happy to examining the prize first. She makes a low, exaggerated bow and prances ahead to inspect the prize. And what a fine catch! Tough, lean and with impressive tusks. She inserts her hands around its neck, feeling for its lymph nodes to check for disease, and finds none. Then pulls out the arrows one by one, leaving them beside the corpse. She doubts the Stained Pelt would want it for its hide. For the hide is tougher than bark, and about as rough. Not to mention its poked with holes. But if that establishment doesn't want it, how will they divide the spoils? If it was just hers she would take it back to the forest and gorge herself, burying the rest for later. She wipes her hands and her thighs and stands over the pig, considering. She promised the angry Drykas half the meat. But now that she is here she really doesn't want to share. Or drag it back to the city and beg the butcher (with a sizeable share of the pork, no doubt) to cut it down for them. Guess there is nothing for it. They Mealla will have to pay the Stained Pelt to skin and quarter it for them. For Rhy carried nothing with her when she left the city. Hefting the hind legs she begins to pull it in the establishments direction, not 200 meters away, as it were. "Come on, we'll take it to the 'Pelt", she calls to the Drykas over her shoulder. But something makes her stop. The woman made the easy bag for the animal she couldn't run down. She at least earns some thanks. So turning to the woman, she says thus: "And, well, thanks for the help. Just like you promised. Couldn't have caught it by myself...Dont get me wrong, I don't like you much. You be arrogant, might have a thing for cannibalism, and definitely slightly insane. Truly, you are a horrible person. But a good hunter. Got to respect that." She nods, speech delivered, and continues towing.

[Mealla Stormsong]

The grin remained, despite the Kelvic’s mocking reply. Oh, normally Mealla would have struck out, snapped some cutting reply, but the elation of having actually succeeded in a hunt had yet to wane. This was, after all, one of the only times it had happened. By herself, at least. Usually the prey got away or someone took over and did the actual killing, but her arrows had brought it down. Hers. No one else’s. She felt almost giddy and could have danced, and Andraste, sensing her mood, pranced forward a few paces, raising her forelegs high, as if she too was happy. Mealla watched as the Kelvic pulled back the boar, and was almost tempted to tell her to fetch the arrows too, because there was no way that she was leaving those behind, but she said nothing, gave a little sigh, and urged Andraste on, still not using her hands to guide her. They crossed a bridge to the opposite bank, and she gripped her legs tighter around the yvas to keep her there, and stretched to the side, her chest coming level with Andraste’s as she plucked the arrows one by one from the ground. She grimaced slightly at the effort to straighten – she was still no great acrobat – and kicked Andraste on, urging her back to the Kelvic’s side in time to hear the other’s words. The smile dropped slightly, turning into a frown. Cannibalism? Arrogant? A horrible person? She hadn’t fully understood all the words, but she’d understood those. How dare she! But “Take one to know one,” was all she said, smiling sweetly, biting down on her temper, before she urged Andraste on, leading the way back towards the city, letting the Kelvic struggle with the boar. And there had been she about to offer to let Andraste carry it. Oh well. Stupid Kelvic. Such a shame.

Fin

[Jackalope]

Mealla

Award

Skill	XP Earned	Lore Earned
Shortbow	+2	Riverfall is Smelly
Observation	+2	Shooting at a Sound
Intimdation	+1	Making Death Threats
Hunting	+1	Taking Down a Boar

Rhy

Award

Skill	XP Earned	Lore Earned
Running	+1	The Feeling of Almost Getting Shot With an Arrow
Observation	+1	Telling Someone to Disarm
Drawing	+1	Antagonizing Mealla
Tracking	+1	Losing the Scent
Hunting	+1

Witty Remark Here

Fun thread you two. I got a kick out of imagining a dog doing a drawing, combined with no skill in it. A bunch of stick figures and confusion. Mealla, I gave you a little intimidation for your death threats. Rhy, glancing through other threads, it looks like it's been said before. Try and stay in the past tense. You switch up between present and past fairly frequently and it can make for an awkward ready. The truth of the matter is, you write wonderfully, so consistantcy in the matter would really smooth out those edges, so to speak. If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, please send me a PM and we can figure it out.