Closed Blood hunts (Aello)

[Antar]

7th of Fall, 512 av Today, Antar Noth was hunting a different sort of prey amongst the wild forests of the hinterlands. In the forests, no one could hear the screams of those which fled. No one could stop his well honed desire for revenge. For today he was chasing a special pray. A gift of Dira for Dira who had left the swaddling embrace of Ravok's boundaries to go wandering out on a 'hunt' followed by two of his friends. Sheep, more likely lambs to the slaughter. If the boy-now man was ... hesitant to give him the information Noth desired. Information about that day. The day his little sister had died. What truly monumental life changing information did this man possess? Why, the names of the other cretins who had taken a young girl, deflowered her body and soul for over an hour under one of Ravok's many bridges before they coldly cut her throat. The only witness was an older brother, who had been pinned in place, beaten, with broken bones before he was dumped into the canal beside the girl's body. Left for dead. That was the prey he saught today now as a man of his own , now returned with a thirst for vengeance, if not justice for his half-sister's life. The first of many, but perhaps the most important of all; the first who might tell him who had been there that day. Above, the treetops swayed with all the crashing sounds of a stormy sea. A counterpoint to the rhythm of anticipation which flooded his soul. Step by step, pace by pace, with an iron grip upon his bow, Antar made his way, darting from cover to cover, towards where he had learned the fop was to be making camp amidst the morning shadows.

[Aello]

It was the first day in what felt like a long time that Aello was truly alone. Neither of her Kelvic bondmates Alenias or Nex padding by her side. Yune, her sparrow, was not perched on her shoulder, struggling to unhand her bag's strap, and Lily had chosen to do some exploring of her own before meeting up with her and the assassins sent on Rhysol's mission once more. So she wasn't tucked safely into the girl's pocket, or her pack for that matter. In a way, the girl felt relieved that she finally had a breather. No one to talk to, or rather argue with as far as the other mission holders were concerned. But another portion of her felt empty, and so startlingly alone that it was as though someone had dug her innards out and left her a hollowed soul. But what was she to do? The animals needed space, pycons needed to explore, and the other killers were not exactly good company anyway, so why would she lament over having to spend any more time with them than absolutely necessary anyway? Even so, the loss was enough to cause her to sigh as her fist tightened around the supple curve of her father's old bow, and to breath even more deeply in through the nose and out through the mouth, although the air stung, and she still felt as though she were not getting quite as much as she should need. Sighing once more, the aurist continued to move along, weaving her way in and out of the trees. Pines, oaks. The occasional elm and perhaps a maple. She was never sure of their names, although, having had spent so much time within the Wildlands, she was beginning to know each intimately, and recognize them all. Much as she was beginning to recognize animal prints without the aid of her trusty magical art- auristics. The ones she half-heartedly followed now was one of the few she didn't know, although, she was certain they belonged to a carnivorous creature of one kind or another. For the lower portion of the print was a sort of lobed oval, with three smaller dots etched into the soil a fraction of an inch above them. Occasionally, she could just make out what she assumed to be a nail's scratching in the dirt just above the smaller circles of each animal print. But she couldn't be sure, for it simply could be the displacement of soil each time the creature pressed deeply enough to leave more than its foul smelling, beady black droppings as its mark. (A sign Aello assumed meant it was growing sickly). But then again, the markings seemed far too perfect to be anything less than a claw, or perhaps a twig it was dragging along in its mouth. But why would it do that? Aello shook her head lightly as she chewed her bottom lip, and allowed her muddied irises to follow the length of the trail she tread alongside. That didn't make any sense at all, so she disregarded the idle thought, and continued on her way. Easily rounding a tight grouping of three younger pines, judging by the slender nature of their central stalks of diamond backed bark latched tightly about beige innards. Again, Aello's fist tightened around her bow as her gaze swept along, making note of a low lying branch that had been snapped off a sapling as the creature moved along. And the occasional brown leaf. Dried out, shriveled, crackling. Strips of leathery skin torn away from dark, parched rivers. Supportive veins which trickled through the tear drop shaped adornments. Gingerly, she stepped along their length, so as not to tarnish the trail, should she lose it farther along and have to back track in order to find the right of way. Gracefully, Aello glided for several ticks of the clock before pausing on the far side of an elder oak. Her ears prickled, for she thought she heard something in the distance, to her right, although she couldn't be sure. So she waited. Scarcely breathed as she forced herself to strain her hearing; and truly listen. But after a few moments she realized it was only the wind, always whistling, rustling what few leaves remained atop the trees. Smiling weakly at her own stupidity then, the girl continued on. Her concentration mounting, as she fought to find her prey, before something else got to it first. After all, at the very least, she could use a new scarf, or perhaps a pelt to help line her make shift beds... OOCI don't know what she's following yet, although I have some ideas. But ehh... feel free to incorporate it in your post if you'd like. I'm not too picky with my animals.

[Antar]

oocYay for Verillian's help on this idea A league and a half from where Aello was following its trail, a sickly emaciated mountain lion lay. On its back, a bit of puss and blood was slowly scabbing. The creature raised its snout to test the air, each muscle quivering with worry as if it would bolt at any moment. A run in from its last unsuccessful hunt. But instead of running, it slunk low to the ground, letting out a small grunt or a whimper before falling silent. It didn't want to be where it was. But food around here had grown mighty scarce since the spring. Indeed, it had a been a harsh environment in these woods between Nyka and Ravok for quite awhile. The usual oats and leaves the deer ate did not burgeon forth as they should have this spring, instead they were mutated slightly from the present djed storm. Indeed, even now the cougar remembered them 'smelling' wrong. Add in the dangers of hunting other animals, and it was a harsh spring and summer for the feline. It's mate had been killed, and it was left now at a point of desperation. To raid the den of another predator to try and gain it's cubs so it's own could eat. A predator that wasn't something it wanted to trifle with. The large cat slung through the underbrush, shimmying through its task towards a forest cave where the yipping and baying of young pups could be heard. A long tongue licked its lips, tasting in the air the fetid sense of rotting meat coming from a large skeleton, six legged, and about fifteen hands high to the shoulder. It's jaws shone clean with the ebony of sharp fangs centered on a skull mounted high upon a barrelled chest. That was the male, it remembered that much slaughtered by the female. Blood and guts torn by its own progeny who desired to eat. But where was it's mate? The mother of its young which it had been sacrificed for? It had been larger then the male, it remembered that. Gazing around with slitted eyes, the lioness tremulously plodded forwards, only to flinch as it heard the softest patter of paws on stone from behind. It's last flash of recognition was glimpsing a pair of twenty inch jaws and a full set of serrated teeth biting down before it's prey's mother wrenched it's head from its neck. WIthin the cave, the pups, eight hands high, could sense the scent of blood, and the baying grew louder as they began to congregate near the fresh kill. Emerging from their den to wait. Their jaws leaked slobber as they began shoving each other out of the way, the males and females simply waiting for the dominant animal, their mother, to have her fill.

Antar waited at the crossroads, opening his mouth to breathe as soft as possible as he looked for a sign that he was on the right track. Horse hooves, marred by the signs of horseshoes had been noted about a mile back. His quarry could have ventured any which way from that point, and Antar would have been wasting time if he had not spotted the evidence of an old high hold in a tree. From what he had gathered, the men had always came out to hunt in this area. Chasing fox, and hunting as a means of relieving the tedious boredome of raking in their cash from their businesses they oversaw from their families domains in the Noble District. That didn't mean they were nobles, Raavok didn't have those. What they had were the divide between the wealthy and the poor, the Black Sun and the Ebonstryfe, and the ones at the head of the pile, Rhysol and the Voice themselves. Sure weatlhier families had a bit more influence, because members of their houses could go farther in the church. But there wasn't any true 'nobility' in Ravok. Antar had learned that much the day his sister was killed, and he was left for dead. No one had stood up for any justice for his sister's life. No one had wanted to, especially when one of the boy's fathers had been part of the Ebonstryfe. Sadly, that was the way it went in that fetid city. The criminal elements were the same as those who controlled the trade and the flourishment of Rhysol's domain. Even a native like him, could have seen that was wrong. But no common person on the street ever would. They were all conditioned that way. Looking at the high hold, Antar had dismounted Dawnstride before indian walking forwards, rolling from heel to toe, heel to toe, as he looked around. The signs of an old encampent greeted him, though in the dust of the ashbed of long dimmed fires, a bit of disturbed charcoal held a clue he was on the right path. A dull misshapen horseprint moving pointing forward with a marred track showed the stumbling of a horse. He was still close. With those thoughts in mind, he widened the area of his search before coming to gain another bearing. Then he was off again, leading his horse through the woods. His blood pulsing in anticipation as he came ever closer to his targets. oocIf you want to play out some scenes with the three guys Antar's hunting, go right ahead. They're in a 'hunting party' as well Just 3 guys with a wicked past, out in the woods.

[Aello]

Aello's feet produced hollowed thuds as she moved along. Raising her leg high, bending it at the knee, before setting it down farther along on the trail. Trying to make a point of not stepping on fallen twigs; snapping them, to give away her location. Trying to make a point of staying away from low lying shrubberies, that, when passed through, would show a rustling of leaves or walking upon pine needles or other fallen debris that would crackle and reveal her presence. As she moved alongside the animal's trail, her muddied irises studied them as they meandered several paces ahead of where she now stood. She noted how whatever creature it had been, had continued to snap branches as it moved through bushes, to draw lines in the earth with what she assumed to be its claws. That here, its path became all the more circuitous as it rounded a series of trees. As she drew closer, she realized that some of the bark had been peeled off the lower portions, no more than two feet off the ground, causing her to wonder if the animal had pressed its form up against the wood, perhaps to bare its scent and mark its territory. Or even, to rest a moment if it had gotten tired. As she neared, the huntress' nostrils began to redden and then flare as she picked up the scent of urine. Harsh, cold, carrying a faint hint of pine coupling with what she thought was raw meat. Rabbit, for some reason or another. Looks like whatever it was was marking its territory after all, Aello thought as her fist tightened around the supple curve of his father's old bow, and she walked slowly around the grouping of trees a few times. Following each line of tracks with her eyes until she was certain she had discovered the one that led away from her current location, and back into the woods, towards whatever animal was trying to hide from her line of vision. She trailed after the markings steadily, making her way slowly through the forest without much thought given to the passage of time, or how high in the sky the sun was getting. Whether the clouds looked like rain was coming or not. Whether the birds that flew high in the sky, or had perched on tree branches were calling to each other, singing, or remaining silent. All she cared about was this trail. All she hoped for was something to eat. Or at the very least, a pelt to help keep her warm. And a determined huntress was going to get what she set out to find. Eventually...