Out in the Cold

[Hadrian]

34th Winter, 512 A.V.

They said practice made perfect, and he had to agree. When he thought about how horrible he had been as a novice aurist, how difficult it had been to learn, and then how clear and helpful the sense had become, he knew he could do anything if he put his mind to it.

Well, this was the third day in four that he had hiked up toward Mirahil Pass to attempt to hunt and put fresh meat before the orphans in his care. They had to keep up their strength with nutrition or they would be more susceptible to this plague that had somehow come to them from the Drykas of the Cyphrus plains. A drawback to living in a port city, he supposed, was exposure to disease from the wide world as well as to culture and ideas.

And so he found that clearing where he made his transformations into a giant bird of prey with the hope that he could ambush unwitting animals from above, because he certainly couldn't fly or hunt with any grace in the giant, too heavy form. One day, he hoped he would be able to master his mass, and make true transformations, but at least in the form, he had talons and a beak, and could imagine that he was a predator.

He wasn't sure he could kill a deer with his bare hands otherwise, even though he could Flux strength into his hands fit to rip its head of as humanely as possible. But as was his wont, his mind started wandering, even as he was stripping off his clothes, the better to morph without tearing them to shreds. But with his thoughts wandering so, he ended up there in the cold clearing, barely dressed and not yet shivering in reaction to the cold.

[Marin]

Marin needed to go hunting again. It had been many, many days since his last trip. Snow now fell with ease covering the ground as if it was a blanket covering the world. The fresh new look always changed what Marin was used to, but it was good. The forest now looked beautiful with the white fluff covering the branches, the leaves now blown away. It was a fresh start for nature, for many things changed: the inhabitants of the forest, the wildlife and the people. Hunters of different kinds often trend to certain types of game, and when the game changes so do the hunters. Travelers of many kinds also roamed the world, but only the toughest now treked through the snowy mountains. Marin started the hike to the mountains, not stopping for anything, he didn't want to be bugged. Usually though he was quite a friendly soul, at the moment he felt the need to be alone, alone with nature. Nature was his guide, his mentor, and almost, in the days since his father has passed, his parent. He learned things quickly that nature taught, often as naturally as he would anything else. Marin was a avid learner, generally wanting to know everything at the same time, which often lead to a very filled mind in a very short time. The day was still early, the land still bright, calm, and still quite cold. Marin had dressed for the occasion, wearing as much as he dare, and attempting to not weigh three times more that usual. He thought he did well, wearing just enough that the cold nip only was felt around his face and hands.

[Hadrian]

"Hadrian," he muttered to himself, admonishing himself for letting his mind wander. If they found his naked body out here frozen to death, he just knew his poor mother would turn over in her grave. She had done everything in her power to raise well mannered children, after all.

But after a couple of days of his crappy flying, he decided he was going to try something a little different. First, he sent a flush of djed down through his body, and began to morph into his black version of a lammergeier, the raptor form big as its Talderan cousins, but too, too heavy for effective flying, even if Hadrian knew what he was doing there. That was a model, and so that was easy. Of late, he had been studying the anatomy of other raptors, and had decided that an eagle might be of more use to him for some situations.

With careful use of his morphing energies, he gradually brought his shape more into line with an eagle. This was not so much a great expenditure in power, but a delicate series of alterations from one bird-of-prey to another, rather than from human to raptor.

This done, he took little steps with his eagle feet, talons gripping the cold, hard turf. He mantled his wings to be sure the feather and wing structure was just right. He was still far too large and heavy to be an effective flyer, but this was progress.

[Marin]

As Marin wandered further into the forest, he watched; Marin loved watching. He would stand still for some time, notice the surroundings, and listen, then depart. In the cold, his ears rang, and his eyes watered and stung with icy abandon. It was at a time that he stopped that he took particular notice of something. Off far in the distance, movement and sound were emitted, just a subtle thing, yet noticeable. Marin became cautious now, and decided to creep up to it. He took time to string his longbow, and kept his short bow on his back. He crouched down, light on his feet, and found cover behind a thick tree. Peering around, he stole a look at the place the sound came from, careful not to make noise or quick movement. Nothing appeared to be there. Strange... I wonder if it could be a boar... ...I’ve had enough trouble with those...! Marin moved from the tree to the next, getting closer, slowly. About 100 feet away, he found some brush to hid in, and attempted to get a look again at the spot of the sound. Still nothing appeared to be there. Still daring to move closer, he crept, but even more cautious. Finally at the point of getting to close, Marin found cover: another large tree. His non-bow hand rest on the thick carpet of moss growing on the trunk of the tree. He kept his bow arm loose, ready to shoot an arrow, at a moments notice. Shifting to one side of the trunk Marin then leaned around to look at the clearing where the sound was. The first thing he saw was a dark shape, and then realized it was a large creature of some sort. “Iee!” Marin fell backwards, crashing into the snow covered brush behind the tree.

[Hadrian]

Though Hadrian was normally highly aware of his surroundings, when his mind went all single-pointed focus, as when studying or working magic, it wasn't so very difficult to sneak up on him. He was just stretching and moving every little muscle in the form of a huge, black hawk, when the scream and the crash of bushes startled him, breaking the morph before it was properly settled. He snapped back into his human form and crumpled to the ground in a daze from the backlash of energies.

At least, for the moment, he couldn't feel the snow on his bare skin. But he wasn't completely dazed for long, and he focused on his aura to see if he was all right. Nothing permanently damaged, he didn't think, though his body started shaking from more than just the cold.

"Who's there?" he called weakly.

[Marin]

Marin tried to get up from his fall quickly, hoping to not have scared the creature too much, and put it into a blood rage to kill him. Moving as quietly as he could, he recovered himself from the brush. Moving back to the tree again, Marin peered around, and watched the bird... Wait! A person! Wh...o? Marin quickly recounted everything he had ever met in this forest. Nothing ever was a giant bird, and no birds ever turned into a human form. Thus.... a mage! Marin made himself small behind the tree, hoping that the magician wouldn’t use his bird instincts to go all blood rage on him. I wonder if he can see me...? Wait... He probably is an aurist... Lets hope for not... Marin nocked an arrow and held the bow ready just in case the bird-mage was hostile. “Who's There?” asked the bird-mage. Marin tried to hide better, but failed, as he was a grown man. Therefore... I... Must... “Ah!” Marin stepped out from the tree, and pulled the arrow back, ready to shoot at the bird-mage. “Don’t move!” The bow string strained against Marin's cold flesh, the strong wood of the arrow shaft between his fingers reminded him what to do if anything went wrong...

[Hadrian]

"What are you doing?" he whined. Hadrian was whining.

He was also squinting at the man with the arrow nocked and aimed at him, but then his body realized it was rolling in snow and without any clothes in and he instinctively curled up in the fetal position to conserve his body heat. The quick release hadn't hurt him, just shocked him, and it would take a while for the headache to fade.

His hands shot out to grab at his clothes and try to put them on despite his shaking. This really wasn't his day; mind wandering, not even putting his clothes someplace safe before morphing, and now someone was aiming death at him.

[Marin]

Marin held the bow with all of his strength, letting the arrow direct his eye to the mage. Marin noticed many things. First of all, the man was naked. Marin's first assumption, therefore, was 'this man is crazy'. Second, the man spoke with the squeakiest accent he had heard before, and Marin lived in Zeltiva, where sailors from all over the known earth came to the port to let leak their strange and exciting stories in equally strange and exciting tongues. “What are you accruing?” was what Marin had thought he said, although it could have been “What are you doing?” or even “What are you pursuing?” The wailing accent didn't help matters. The bow loosened in his grasp; the man before him was, as Marin decided, ‘A threat that could only harm a snail’. He set down the bow, next to the man and attempted to help him dress. Maybe the warmness will help his addled brain... ...Then perhaps maybe not... “A better question, for you, What are you pursuing?” The forest--at least in this area--looked barren and empty, the brush was brown, and the forest floor a mix of dead undergrowth, leaves, and the white fluff now covering both the man and Marin himself.

[Hadrian]

Once his vocal apparatus normalized, he spoke much more clearly. A trained ear might hear the hint of Syliras in his voice, though he had acquired a bit of the posh, educated clip of a Zeltivan scholar too.

"I was... I was going to go hunting," he said, only now realizing that the man had put the bow aside to help him dress. Well, that was... nice of him. "Winter often means famine in Zeltiva, and we're already dealing with a pestilence. There are children in my care, and I have to provide food. But I'm not really a hunter, and even when I change my shape I... well, I don't know how to hunt."

Before he became headmaster of the Farson Home for Orphans, the fact that he could not hunt had not bothered him. He was a scholar, and he cared more for ideas than the growling of his belly. He would tighten his belt and distract himself with books and experiments. But now his jaw clenched and he felt like utter shit for not being fit to see to his responsibilities with the children.

"So." He sighed. Perhaps he could hypnotize a deer out of the woods if he could locate an aura nearby, but the farther into the icy months they went, the more rare became the game, and what was found was less fleshy, less fatty, less to eat. "So that's it. I'm sorry if I startled you."

[Marin]

Marin listened with a content yet unnerved feeling. Once the man had started to get clothing on his cold body and removed the obvious whine in his voice, he began to make sense. He talked of hunting, and the hungry mouths he had to feed. Something very human... So he isn't an evil bird thingy after all... Marin removed his cloak, feeling the wool leave his shoulders and a gust of cold air breathe its way through his thinner clothes. “Wear the gloves, too, you'll need some warmth with the way you're dressed.” Marin looked him over and chuckled, wondering what made him really want to be out here. “Who are these people you have to feed?” Marin knew the need of food, sometimes his father would come back after hunting with only a meager amount of game, and Marin would be hungry until he could hunt again. Marin felt he needed to give charity to those who had less food than then needed, something his father would always try to do, even though they themselves needed food. Arg... Well my father would do it, maybe it will lead me back to him someday... “Lets go, you've got people to feed. What is your best hunting technique?”