The Hunters Chance (Khida)

[Bloodfight]

Fall 17th, 512AV Early Afternoon; Sea of Grass The clouds scooted on by in the air, a soft breeze gracing the grasslands with it's presence from the Suvan. Though Blood took no notice of the slight chill that was slowly taking hold, he would probably have to pack up and leave the area soon for something not as.. snowy.. during the winter. It was only fall, so he had some time of course to gather some resources up, he watched as the clouds wafted along in big, white, magnificent splotches of percipitation; scratching the tuft of fur on his chest with his knuckles, yawning lazily whilst laying on the ground. Something dark flew high in the sky, but to him it could have been a fly. Maybe he should go check on some of his snares, perhaps something scurryed into one of them during the night? He wondered a bit, feeling that curious itch return to bug him about it. He would have to move to a new location soon anyways, he glanced at his small, rugged camp. Sitting up, ruffling his hair, and taking care not to scratch his own scalp from his claws, Blood stretched very much like how a cat would. There was no need to hurry, it wasn't like anything interesting happened often besides the occasional wild animal or two. Nor did the Drykas bother him often either, "keh" he let out lightly, a deep bubbling warble that could have been mistaken for a growl if anyone was nearby. Turning slowly into a crouching kneel position, he put one knee to the ground and buried his toes into the earth whilst having his other foot firmly level with the ground, he used his arms for balance and peeked out from the tops of the grass. Scanning around, he saw nothing but the same grassland and more grassland on the horizon, the only thing different was a stray tree in the distance and the nearby marked caravan road. The tree was his own landmark he had used to set up his snares, the bird snare in the tree and along the path in a zig zag pattern, his other snares hidden in the grasses. Turning his head around slowly, he listened hard for anything that could have been detrimental to his health, anything out of the ordinary, he glanced to the sky again, then to the other side of himself, still nothing. Furrowing his eyebrows, and scrunching his expression up in concentration, it was normal as far as he could tell with the slight chirp of a bird, the rustle of the grass, the calm whistle of wind, nothing too interesting or out of the ordinary. After having of deemed the snare path safe to traverse, Blood began making his way to the closest snare meant for mice. Hunched over, due to his overly large size, he stepped about as carefully as he could through the grasses- always watching for feared predators. Coming up to his first snare, he was quite surprised it had seemed that something had gotten to it first, he looked at the empty snare- noticing signs it had been opened somehow. Mice were so tiny, and fun to eat, but how could one escape a snare? He was confused over this discovery but reset the trap anyways and moved on to the next snare meant for tiny animals diagonal from the first. Only to discover that this snare too was empty, getting annoyed over this, he wondered how his rabbit snares closer to the tree were doing. Adamantly resetting the tiny snare and moving fowards in another diagonal straight line as quietly as he could, watching where he stepped and always keeping his ears open, getting closer to the tree ever slowly.

[Khida]

Normally, she wouldn't want something already dead by someone else's talons, or teeth, or hand. Except maybe if it was a fish. The falcon had spent her entire day up to this point floating on the upper air, watching everything and nothing. She catalogued all that she saw as could be food, definitely not food, not interesting at all -- such was the measure of her hunger. In the past couple of days, for all the effort she put out, a distinct shortage of good fortune had rewarded it. The birds out here appeared most wise to the ways of avian predators; she had glimpsed other raptors in the distance, implicit reasons for that active caution and skill in evasion. Faced with the frustration of what was proving to be another hungry day, Khida felt sorely homesick for Ahnatep. There, she could have waited outside a burrow, patient as her sire had taught her to be. Or she could have cruised the estuary, where sometimes the fowl conflated her with the ever-present ospreys, a moment's potentially fatal lapse. Or perched on a rooftop overlooking the market stalls, waiting for the siren song of scraps to override another's wariness. But these possibilities did not apply in the grasslands, where tall stalks shrouded burrows, bodies of water were scarce, and markets entirely nonexistent. Time to try something else. The peregrine brought her wings partway in and dropped out of her surveying soar, making an unhurried descent towards the earth. She braked just above the tops of the grasses, wings splayed wide to slow and take herself back into level, forward flight. She cruised along at that height for some distance, hoping she might spot a rabbit; sometimes they froze as her shadow passed over, and sometimes she could pluck them up out of the stalks. Khida scanned for movement, and for outlines matching the distinctive lagomorph profile -- long ears, rounded head, curved body. She found one, but not quite in the state she'd expected. The falcon abruptly pivoted and recrossed her own course, backwinging and dropping the last few feet to land on the ground. A brown-furred rabbit lay almost on its side in the grass, back feet splayed sideways on the earth, head held up in what didn't quite seem a natural position. Tipping her head, Khida noted the indentation in the fur along its neck, the wire connecting it to a fallen bough. It had been caught in someone's snare, and was now quite dead. Khida hadn't seen any humans in days, certainly not around here. Whoever set the snare was bound to return, but... she thought, hoped, not quite yet. Planting one foot on the carcass and ducking down to tear an great gash in the skin with her beak, she settled in to feed with the appetite of one famished. Finally, something going right for once.

[Bloodfight]

Maybe he should have gotten to checking the snares earlier, this was just ridiculous- as he came upon yet another empty snare all tangled up. Growling somewhat, he put the snare back together again; fixing the funnel meant for rabbits to hop through and then picking up the thicker stick meant to hold the wire- most of the work had been previously done, it just needed to be reset, so he loosened the noose at the end by taking a claw to the middle and then pulling delicately and widening the loop of twine. He then set the stick on top of the funnel and situated the loop just to the point it would catch any rabbit that would run through and be caught but it was loose. He had left the snare loose like that the last time as well, maybe that was the problem? Glancing around he saw nothing he could use to keep the loop of twine from wiggling about. There was only one answer, the last rabbit snare, and the bird snare in the tree; Bloodfight could collect some twigs from the tree to hold the third snare down, and future snare sites as well. Peaking out of the grass for a 2nd time, his back sending little pain and stiff signals that he was really pushing his sneaking skills to a max. Yet what he saw was amazing, a bird had swooped down near his fourth, and final land snare meant for the ground. Quickly, he stepped as fast as he could and tryed not to move too much grass as he crouch walked, the slight crinkle of the grass, the rustle and the movement, he was still getting use to moving as silently as he could but this was a matter of life and death- to make sure there was food, or to starve to death. Bloodfight wanted to rush at the bird, but he held his temper, instead glancing at the ground for a rock and picked it up as quietly as he could. Freezing for a few moments to watch, feeling as if he had barrel rolled his way through like an idiot and fretted a bit over his own loudness, his rage boiling ever so slowly to the tipping point. With a mighty swing of his arm he chucked the small rock at the bird and missed promptly, letting out a scream of frustration he then lunged at the bird with as much force he could push into his body.

[Khida]

The hungry falcon pulled up tufts of fur and tossed them to either side with sharp jerks of her head, getting them out of the way. She tore at the flesh thus revealed with equal frenzy, ripping off pieces and quickly swallowing them whole. It wasn't a fresh kill, cooled to lukewarm and the blood congealed to a none-too-pleasing texture, but the meat tasted wonderful nonetheless. Caught up in the immediacy of sating her hunger, Khida failed to quite notice the crackle of bent stalks, the rustlings of something coming nearer through the grass. Ironically, she knew nothing of the trapper's creeping approach until a rock whizzed past her head, the missile practically impossible to ignore in its whistling proximity. Startled, the falcon voiced a loud shriek, nearly coinciding with his own scream. She leapt up into the air, at first trying to take the rabbit with her -- but it remained securely tethered to the branch by the snare. When it reached the limit of that leash and tugged against her talons, Khida let it go, not without regret. That hesitation meant she didn't quite clear the path of his lunge. As he dropped on where the raptor had been -- where the partly-eaten rabbit once more lay -- she felt something collide with her underside. A flailing hand, perhaps; whatever it was knocked her from her intended course and forced Khida to glide down into the surrounding grass. Upon touching ground, she scuttled rapidly in a direction away from the trap and trapper, putting some distance between herself and the site before attempting to take to the air again.

[Bloodfight]

Landing face flat in the grass and dirt, the dead rabbit squished uncomfortably by his stomach and the snare falling out of place. Bloodfight swiped once more at the bird, missing by a mile and watched it float down, perfect, rabbit and bird for dinner. Or rather lunch, in his mind. Scrabbling up, he stood at his full height and towered over the grass by a few feet. Looking around for the petching bird that almost stole his meal from him, scanning the area, he heard the rustle of the grass of something moving and began walking carefully to it and opening parts of the grass to look in. "Come back here ya' lil' thief" Bloodfight mumbled with a seathing glare of anger in his eyes, violence seeping into his demeanor "I promise I won't eat you while you're alive..." He spoke in common, since it was easier for him to speak in, rather than his inferior Zith speech. He moved quicker, as the scuttling got louder- he swiped at the grass and yelled purposefully at it after awhile of little reaction. Trying to flush the bird out of the grass, to take flight, the only blood he had smelt was the rabbits so he knew he hadn't come in contact with his claws at the bird. Success, the bird flew up and out a meter or two away from him, frantically in his mind, flapping its wings. The halfling ran after it, jumping not once, but twice in attempts to reach for it- and failing. Feeling utterly hopeless when he realized he wouldn't be able to fly after the petching bird, but he could run? No, he had to stay close to his camp.. Or risk confrontation with the natives or something far worse, so much more worse lurking in the grasslands, or losing sight of the campsite forever in the maze of tall grass. So he watched it fly off, noting the direction of the sun and then the nearby lonesome tree. He would track it, Bloodfight assured to himself as he hupped back to his snares and took the dead rabbit and slung it over his shoulder. He would have that bird for breakfest one day, he'd make sure of it. First he needed to pack his camp up for travel, and gathering his snares- there was no way he would forget his livelyhood just for one bird.

[Khida]

Common, she understood perfectly. So the trapper's exhortations did exactly nothing to incite Khida to come out where he could find her. On the other hand, his shouting and pawing through the grass conveyed quite clearly to the falcon where he was -- which unfortunately was following her through the grass. But she thought she might have gained a bit of distance -- just a little, just enough to where she might fly up and reach the safety of open air before he could reach her. She hoped so, anyway. The peregrine had to get back into the air -- there was no way she could evade him for long on the ground. So when he yelled again, and she was a little more sure of the gap between them -- it wasn't much of one, worryingly -- Khida flew up out of the grasses, striving to gain as much height as she could, as quickly as she could. She was startled to find him all but on top of her position -- perhaps the length of her wingspan away. He jumped up after her, the falcon swerving desperately to avoid his first reaching leap, the second missing by an acceptable, if small, margin as she continued to gain altitude. The lure of the rabbit still over there in the grass -- as she overflew, she could see it lying abandoned -- was tempting, but Khida passed it by without hesitation. At least she'd eaten something, if not her fill. That would just have to be enough. Prudence dictated Khida put distance between her and the trapper, given that he probably wouldn't give up trying to catch her. He was land-bound; her flight wouldn't leave tracks or scent or anything land-bound hunters usually used for clues. So if she just flew far enough, she should be safe from him. Without really giving her destination conscious thought, she took her own bearings on the sun, matching it against her memory of locations and her recent course out into this area. The city of tents, she knew with certainty, was that way -- and the city of tents was as close to a safe place as she knew in this region. So the falcon banked and set off in a general easterly direction, trusting the distance she could cover to separate her from the outraged trapper. Fall 18th, 512 AV Elsewhere in the Sea of Grass Khida had flown through the rest of the afternoon, then started looking for a roost as the sun edged towards the horizon, painting the landscape in strong golds and oranges. Eventually, the falcon had found another tree, one without much girth to its trunk -- but tall despite that spindliness. It served well enough as a place to sleep; as the sun's light faded from the horizon, she had tucked her head beneath a wing and gone to sleep. Now, a few tenacious stars still speckled the western sky, even as the eastern horizon lightened from blue-black towards gold. It would be but a few chimes before songbirds began to greet the morning, but for the moment, the grasslands remained caught in hushed silence as though they held a collective breath, awaiting dawn. Nothing stirred but the morning breeze, ruffling grasses and rustling leaves. The falcon continued to sleep, a dark blotch in the upper branches of the spindly little tree.

[Bloodfight]

Khida : You CAN ignore most of this... o_o oh gods.. I didn't mean for it to turn out to be so long... *does a pathetic facepalm* Working quickly, Bloodfight was packing his camp up in a routinely fashion; he would skin the rabbit later at his next campsite but for now he was focused on following after that bird. The light scent of irony blood, and the torn meat from the rabbit seeped into his nose and tempered with his hunger, the skin would be ruined of course but when he would get a chance to sink his teeth into the flesh. Bloodfight resisted entered a dreamy state of mind, eyes to the sky as he shrugged the body pack on filled with Mizas, and hefting the backpack with secured snares and tools around his shoulders to rest on his back. Hunching over to the point only his head could be seen by the red wisps of hair, Bloodfight would cross the caravan path to the other side, and then walk through the grasses. Watching horizons, Bloodfight took note of the sun once again, and back to where the dot in the sky was before looking around himself. He had to keep moving if he was going to keep up with the falcon on land, moving in zig-zags through the grass and past rocks the size of Bloodfight himself. Shying away from them, for he had heard a deathly warning rattle sound out as he had gotten closer. There wasn't any time to explore the rocks, nor check inside the cracks, no matter how curious Bloodfight became over the rattle- he was after that bird, and that bird only. The idea of climbing the rocks for a better veiw had entered Bloodfights mind, but it would have been too troublesome, especially with how fast the bird seemed to be dissapearing into the sky. For all this time that he had been watching the bird, he hadn't realized until then that the falcon was following the wind, a breeze, but which way? The way the bird was going? Bloodfight couldn't rightly tell being semi-submerged in the grasses, so he lifted his hand up a bit and let the fluid wind brush past his lightly furred fingers- it felt like it was going the same way as the bird when he looked in that direction. He watched as he walked, connecting dots, did it mean the bird was flying on wind? If so, it would keep the bird going for miles if it didn't volley off the course of the wind and that also meant Bloodfight had been smart enough to avoid wasting time with those rocks earlier. For the sake of keeping up, Bloodfight began a light run, on and off whilst taking short moments to rest, the weight of his items plus the jog quickly worked Bloodfight into a sweat under the sun whilst his chest wanted to split open. The halfling had never run so much in his life, and it seemed like the bird wasn't ever going to take a break from the sky and come back down to the land. Grumbling after his maybe fiftyith stop, he wouldn't let distance and that bird get the best of him. No matter how far it would go from the caravan roads, he could just make a straight cut through the grasses and hope for the best he would come back to them; if he didn't get lost on the way of course, or attacked by something nasty. Hours had passed, and the sun was going down, so as the light began to die- his low light vision kicked in. Though he couldn't see as great as a Zith, he could at least see better than a Human. He had no clue where the bird was now, nor did he care at the moment, he was out of energy. The life in his legs slowly diminishing as they screamed loud sirens of pain, as every particle in his body begged, pled for relief from the horror of movement. Bloodfight showed nothing, but the moment he looked around, trying to find a suitable place to camp- he looked to the ground, the grasses around him, tall, inviting, and that was that. Tipping over with a semi loud thud upon connection to the ground, he was out like a light being snuffed out just as the suns grace left the sky completely. Bloodfights sleep was dreamless, deep, for sanitys sake he had always maintained being a light sleeper but not tonight, nor the morning. The only thing that could have woken him up now and then was pain, or being pissed on. Fortuantly for him, he felt the former option ease into him, hunger picking away at his stomach as he laid in the grasses uncomfortably with the body pack pushing into his gut- some how during the night, Bloodfight had managed to push his heavy backpack off. But that wasn't all that made him wake up, from where he had fallen, he must have struck his head, or whipped it a bit in the momentum of falling to the ground and connecting with it. Pushing himself up, he was annoyed, eyes heavy as he looked around trying to figure out where he was. What had he been doing prior before sleeping? His eyes spotted the rabbit, the aroma of the dead animal caught his attention and before he could think logically he tore the rabbit apart and devoured the meat, ignoring the fur as best as he could- he would just leave the remains for something to find it, not even the fur would be salvagable after Bloodfight would be done consuming the poor dead thing. Once he had finished, he had woken up a bit more, taking note the grey of morning was coming up and that he was far from the caravan path.. Which way had he come from? Bloodfight couldn't remember. Shaking his head, then hissing, holding his forehead in both hands as the throb entered menacingly close to his temples. Squeezing his eyes shut and then willing the pain to go away before attempting to stand, quickly understanding his feet had blisters bleeding on them now which stung. Wondering what to do with them, he leaned over to his bag and dug the water skin out, taking a quick drink and then pouring small amounts over the open parts which looked really.. disturbed.. was the best word Bloodfight could think of at the moment. Next he dug around some more, using the sharpness of his claws to cut a few scraps of cloth off of his winter blanket and then working to tie those scraps around where the blisters were. That was the only thing he could do at the moment. Either way, he would have to get a move on, and quickly, he could set a camp up here- but who knew what would be attracted by the scent of a now picked apart carcass? With a great difficulty, he stood up, feeling the burn in his soles as he did so; looking around and squinting harder. It didn't look as if there was anything, he couldn't see far, and it seemed like a wasteland of nothingness to him so with a small protest from his feet, he shrugged the backpack on and continued on in the middle of nowhere. He would at least have to find suitable shelter before trying to rest properly, still feeling the exhaustion from yesterdays long trek across the peril filled grasses. Still, there was nothing, nothing but a tree within the distance, with a small splotch- a splotch- which coincidently to Bloodfight looked like a strangely shaped rock to him. How did such a thin tree support a rock? He thought, curiously, making his way closer before realizing that wasn't a rock, but a bird. Was it the same bird from before? Bloodfight couldn't tell but it seemed to be a lucky breakfest for him, or at least, until he caught it. Moving as quietly as he could, he stepped lightly about, dancing on his tip toes and really trying to avoid pressing on the blisters. Pushing grass apart, until finally he was only a few meters from it. Working quickly, he pulled the bird snare out and left his bag, and body pack in the grass and made his way over, biting the side of his lip to avoid making pained noises. At the base of the tree now, hunched over, he watched the bird sleep- glancing around to make sure there was nothing out there. It was pretty high up, would he be able to crawl up the tree without alarming the bird? Bloodfight didn't know.... Maybe he could chance it? But by chancing it he risked losing a meal. Confused as to what to do, he finally went with what seemed to be sensible, standing at his full height, he examined the tree- he didn't think its branches could support his weight but the bird was high enough in them that made it hard for him to set the snare in the correct place. If he were to scare it into the snare, it would have to be at level with the bird or a little higher- in case it decided to fly upwards instead of forwards. Though this was also the perfect time to throw something at it, would it stun the avian species to fall to the ground beneath it? Bloodfight wondered a bit maliciously. Finally choosing, he began to climb, choosing limbs of the tree that looked stronger than the others. Holding onto branches and hoisting himself up with knee bent and foot ready to catch inbetween the trunk and the beginnings of the branch. It only took a simple pull and push, granted it made the trunk wobble a bit in the process, and made Bloodfight feel inadequite to be off the ground. He didn't care- he wanted that bird, but he didn't want it dead. He would catch it and hold it prisoner until he could determine whether it was the same bird or not- once the sun was up and offered better lighting, he had seen the bird from beforehand in better lighting and therefore believed it would be better to make the connection in the same amount of light. Setting the snare, he looped it around the branch, making random knots and finally feeding the noose like twine to be loopy and secure at the same time. Taking the twine that was still free and letting it hang loosely and off the branch. He proceeded to jump down by spreading both feet apart on the thin branch, but was instead greeted with the sharp cracking noise of a branch finally giving under the weight of his foot farthest away from the tree. Sending Bloodfight downwards, flailing to the side and then backwards, he landed on his back and let out a shriek of pain, gasping, as the air left his lungs sharply from the impact.

[Khida]

OOCNo worries. As the sky lightened, so too did the falcon edge towards wakefulness. But she remained quiescent as the half-Zith studied the situation and contemplated his options. When he began climbing, his weight jostled the skinny little tree in a way that shook Khida out of sleep; the trunk also began to list sideways from the unaccustomed burden. She blinked awake, unsure what had roused her but knowing something was off. Soon after, she realized her angle of view had changed with the tree's sideways lean -- and there was a big dark shape on the trunk below. That couldn't be a good development. But what was going on here? The falcon leaped into the air while the half-Zith was preoccupied with tying his snare, seeking distance and a better view of the creature. A branch broke beneath its weight and it fell shrieking to the ground, giving the bird a fine look at its features -- and even in the lightening dawn, at this distance, Khida had no trouble recognizing the trapper from yesterday. Had he been setting a trap for her? The evidence certainly pointed that way. And that -- That just made her mad. Kick them while they're down wasn't part of Khida's philosophy as such, but neither was fair play. The falcon pulled her wings in and dove while he was still coming to terms with his lost breath, screaming outrage and indignation the whole way down. She didn't have far to go, no more than a few dozen feet, making a raking pass at his head (or arms, whatever she came to first) with talons spread wide. She would then rise a few feet and do it again. And again, as necessary. Khida didn't appreciate being the one hunted, not in the slightest, and she intended to make that abundantly clear.

[Bloodfight]

The first few moments were hell as he beat on his chest, forcing the air back into his lungs only to leave him more tired than before- staring up at the sky as he just layed there. Slowly his gaze went to the branch where the bird would have been, but must have flown the coop after all that noise he had made earlier. Glancing about, in the sky, he saw the figure gracefully flying- always able to escape danger, always able to be the best, the better of those with just legs. He was tired, and his feet were hurting, maybe it wasn't the best of ideas to let his pride get to him? The face he was giving the sky might have been akin to a sad puppy about to be kicked in the side, before turning to frank surprise. The bird was diving at him! Lifting his arms up to shield his face, he attempted to roll in the grasses away from the attack, but not without injury. Feeling talon against the flesh of his arms, from what had started as hope, went to sadness, then to surprise and now total anger. He had tracked down a predator, obviously, and this current bird must be the same, or at least- maybe- maybe- maybe, Bloodfight couldn't tell still. Watching as the bird flew back up into the sky, he got on his knees, and then set a foot flat out on the ground and hissed a bit. The sting where the makeshift bandages were seemed to fire up once more under the pressure, just as the bird came back down, talons out, he ducked this time, arms acting as the temporary shield. Glancing about, he looked to where he had fallen and then the branch nearby, crawling quickly over to pick it up and then stand. He wasn't about to be best- whoops there came the bird again, to avoid he bent backwards and flailed, failing to keep his balance as he let out a silent yell of surprise. The grass, I've got to get into higher grasses, Bloodfight thought to himself, there was no way he could best a predator with wings unless he managed to whack it with the stick? That sounded like a good idea to him, so he attempted to barrel roll into the grasses on his side just as the falcon would come down once more, and moving quick, Bloodfight submerged himself in them, always looking above and knowing the bird could see him. But he readied the stick, hands on the same end but spaced apart by and inch and readied himself. Though it may have seemed like he was keeping the stick down, he was waiting to bring it up and arch it around his back for a wild swing at the bird the next time it came down.

[Khida]

Khida felt her talons connect, flesh parting under their keen points, and felt also a rush of triumph; a success, where success had been so lacking in past days. She flew up and came wheeling back around, eager for a second pass, a second success against the human-creature-thing that thought to menace her. Of course, it had since recovered from its moment of weakness, climbing back onto its feet, and proceeded to counter and evade as it had been unable to do before. It leaned back and flailed a branch around in the air at its side, to no particular avail the falcon could determine -- the branch didn't come anywhere near her as she swept through the air above its torso. She missed this time, making no connection with flesh at all, and screamed frustration at it as she climbed back into the air. Her third pass met with no more success, as her target rolled sideways into the grasses just before she closed. As Khida ascended once more, the creature scrambled deeper into the grasses, apparently thinking them cover. With its bulk, though, it displaced the stalks; those bent out of alignment with their fellows seemed to shimmer in the growing light. From above, she had no difficulty tracking its position -- or when it stopped, only a short distance from where it started, apparently hunkering down in the grasses. That it stopped bothered her. Most creatures fled to shelter -- a burrow, a thicket, a cave. Did this one believe the grasses sufficient protection against the falcon? Surely not, given its own size. It didn't seem the sort to freeze in terror; she wrote that possibility off and returned to the first. But what would cause it -- humanlike, hunter that it was -- to believe itself secure? Khida had no answer for that riddle, and the lack combined with reduced visibility of her target inspired caution. She descended again, this time not in a harrying stoop; rather, the falcon dropped until she could glide a few feet above the grasses, passing over the creature's redoubt in the hopes of getting a better perspective between the stalks, even a glimpse of the actual activity going on beneath their screen. What was it doing?