Completed Blindsided (Roderick)

[Mac]

Fall 14, 513 MacMac sighed, silently, imperceptibly shifting her weight the slightest bit. Her left foot was now aching, wedged as it was into the narrow cleft where the tree she was in had long ago split into two separate, slimmer trunks. Her right knee was wedged against a thick limb that split off from the right hand trunk, bearing most of her slight weight, her body angled between the trunks and her bow in hand, but down. No way could she keep it raised for the hours it might take for a deer to show up. She had spotted this almost perfect perch above the game trail the day before, and had been up in the tree, some twenty feet or so above the forest floor, before dawn. Deer were crepuscular, most active in the early morning hours or those of evening. The draw of this particular location was that the signs were clear that deer were using it as a salt lick, with the reddish clay like soil scratched and scrubbed at by their hooves, so they could lick or eat the dirt, and get the vital minerals their bodies needed. There were tell tale signs of the animals all around – scat on the ground and old, dried shreds of velvet from the males’ antlers clinging to trunks and bushes. It was a prime hunting spot, and she hoped that all she had to do was wait, and she’d be sure to bag a Fall fattened animal. She’d left Nehru parked some distance away, much to the dog's displeasure. But he was well trained and she knew he’d wait for her, once given the command. She couldn’t have him around, for fear the wind would carry his scent to the wary creatures. Being up so high herself, she hoped that her own scent wouldn’t be carried to any coming down the trail. Besides, luck was with her and the very light air movement put her slightly downwind of the lick. All she had to do was compensate for that when she drew a bead on her target. It had been a very long wait though. Apparently no deer were in need of the minerals this morning, or so it might turn out. She’d been wedged into her stand for a good hour or more, and the sun was now above the crest of the hills. But she would wait a bit longer, for deer really held no specific timetable. Like all of nature, they could be as random and capricious as humans. Mac carefully eased her shoulder a fraction of an inch, and then she heard it. The almost inaudible sound of hooves on the hard packed dirt of the game trail, and the susurration of leaves as they brushed against somewhat careless flanks. Ever so slowly, she raised her bow, an arrow already held to the string. Her position was just a bit twisted away from the trajectory she wanted, but she adjusted accordingly and drew in a deep, steadying breath, waiting. Within three heartbeats, the young buck came into view. He looked to be just a yearling, given his nubby antlers. But he was good and fat, and Mac held her breath, to lessen any movement of the bow, as she prepared to release. Zinnnnngggg…. Mac almost dropped her bow in surprise, as an arrow flew at the buck from an entirely different direction, catching him right behind the elbow joint. It was a good shot, and the buck jumped but then staggered, and then dropped. Her green eyes, dark with annoyance, searched in the undergrowth for the interloper who had taken her deer! It might have been understandable. She was up high enough and had gone to great lengths not to be seen. But it sure rankled that all her waiting had been for nothing. As the buck gave a death rattle and flailed his last on the hard packed earth, Mac moved, wriggling her stiff muscles back into life, then carefully dropped to the ground.

[Roderick]

Slowly kneeling down to avoid creating any unwanted noise, Roderick studied the track that lay before him; the prints were rather small, so he assumed his prey was a young doe or buck. This entire area seemed to be a favoured spot for the animals; signs of their passage in the form of crushed grass, the odd snagged hair and the little piles of scat they left behind gave him an idea of which area he should be looking in. Rising to his feet he moved forward quickly, keeping his eyes on the various tracks off to the right. He narrowed in on every third track, so he wouldn't slow himself down by studying every single print he saw. A chime was spent looking around a bush to determine which way the young deer had gone; at first he thought it'd gone right and so he went over in that direction, but found the tracks disappeared. Annoyed he returned to the bush and looked again, seeing a slight bend to the leaves, facing to the left. Turning left this time the tracks continued; the direction a bush faced could tell him which way it had went. With that note in his mind he continued following the tracks, carefully stepping over them and then walking beside the trail to avoid disturbing it. As he walked he went over what he knew - an exercise he'd started doing. Hogs and deer had similar hoofprints, but there did seem to be a bit of a difference. Hog's left behind a rounded, splayed print while deer had a print that was a little pointed towards the front and looked a bit like two almonds set next to one another. He kept that knowledge on hand when he went hunting, so he could avoid tracking down the wrong kind of prey. With another carefully placed step he shifted his weight forward slowly towards his toes, lifting his other leg and placing the other boot as quietly as he could. Spotting the deer made him instantly click his mouth shut. There was a tree to his left and a bush in front of him, keeping him hidden. Leaning against the trunk he looked out towards his quarry. The sun shone in his face and he looked up at the blue expanse overhead, narrowing his eyes against the glare. Holding himself perfectly still, he waited for the deer to begin moving about, eating the grass. The fact its eyes were on the side of its head meant that when it moved everything around it also moved; by following its motions as he raised his bow and drew the string back, Roderick remained hidden from its sight, allowing him the chance to line up his shot and loose at the deer. It was a good hit, if slightly off from where he wanted it; piercing its chest, the arrow punctured the animals lungs, promising a slow and painful death. Bolting away in agony, Roderick made sure to stand up calmly from his hiding place. Walking forward quietly, one foot in front of the other, he followed the trail of blood the animal left behind. Tracking it proved far easier this way and he moved away to the right, in the direction the young buck had fled. More scat greeted him as he made his way deeper into the area, but he ignored it and focused on following his target. Slowing himself from the slight jog he'd taken up, he knew it was just ahead of him, through the curtain made by the undergrowth. Roderick stepped away from the current path he was on, avoiding the leaves that gathered under the trees and opting instead for the packed dirt that lay in between. A fallen tree offered an annoying obstacle for him, so he had to turn to the left and carefully maneuver over a pile of leaves to clear the obstruction. Once past it he continued moving, checking the ground for anything that might make a noise before slowly placing his heel down and lowering it so it was flat, all the while checking for any unwanted sound. Satisfied the step hadn't caused too much noise he made for another step, repeating the process of gently lowering his boot to the ground and following through with a third step. The progress he was making was agonizingly slow, but he had to get better at this. Just in front he could see a good hiding place - a cluster of bushes that offered a screen of leafy strands to conceal him. Roderick lowered himself down to the ground and started moving leaves away gently, wincing slightly as they rustled; surely the buck could hear that? It seemed however it was too busy dealing with the arrow embedded in its right side to care about him. Not having to worry so much this time about it seeing him, but wanting to take care all the same, he checked that his arrow was safely notched to the string and then turned his weapon on its side, pulling back with the strength of his shoulders and back on the string, muscles tightening and stretching as it went through the action smoothly. He bent his left elbow slightly, as he'd done many times before, while pushing forward ever so slightly with his hand to aid in drawing the longbow. Finding his current position a little difficult, he slowly uncurled his legs, rising up to his full height and turning his side fully towards the buck. He sighted its leg down, took aim down the shaft of the arrow and, fletchings tickling his cheek, loosed it. Whizzing swiftly through the air the arrow took the deer straight through the leg, at the elbow joint. It staggered for a moment, then collapsed in a pile on the ground. Smiling to himself he was just getting ready to go collect it when a woman suddenly dropped down from a tree, landing neatly on the ground. He had an idea of what had just happened, and found the situation was suspiciously familiar. As quietly as he could, the hunter lowered himself back down into the bush while he tried to think of a way to explain this.

[Mac]

As her boots hit the ground with a soft thud, Mac looked about, peering into the thick foliage in the direction from which the arrow had flown. She still saw nothing, but she knew that arrows did not fall from the heavens. There had to be someone there. She was quite annoyed, but not raging mad, despite that she had a propensity to be quite fiery when she had the reason to be. Of course, it hadn’t really been her deer. Obviously someone else had been on its tail. Still, she didn’t have to be happy about this unexpected turn of events. “Good shot,” she called out, to whoever it was that had fired the arrow. “It’s yours. I just hope you don’t have any intention of bagging a human to go along with. I don’t think I’d be very tasty.” Her tone was dry, but not overly antagonistic. She was pissed but mainly just at her bad luck. Wondering when the unlooked for rival would put in an appearance, she turned, hoping her last little bit of sarcasm would prevent the other hunter from launching a second arrow in her direction. Not that she really felt anyone would want to harm her. She just wanted to make sure they didn’t take her for another deer. She then walked over towards the now dead animal, out of simple curiosity. One could always learn from others, her grandfather had been careful to point out. Her green eyes took in the shot that had brought the buck crashing to the ground, but then they widened in surprise, as she noted the other arrow protruding from its flesh. Well, no wonder it had been on the fly, yet had appeared to be a bit wobbly, when it had hoved into view. She’d been so intent upon her shot that she’d not noticed that the animal was already wounded. Nodding her head a bit, she said simply, though she still had caught no sign of the other hunter, “Good shots, I mean. Looks like this really was yours after all.” Her tone, though still a bit grudging, was this time more resigned to this odd turn of events.

[Roderick]

After a moments delay Roderick heard the woman call out to him, "Good shot, it's yours. I just hope you don’t have any intention of bagging a human to go along with. I don’t think I’d be very tasty." The dry way she said that brought an upward curve to Roderick's lips. Seeing some of the apparent danger leak away, Roderick raised himself up slightly over his hiding space, keeping a tight leash on his breathing so it wouldn't betray where he was. It seemed the woman had no intention of doing anything to him, but seeing her approach his kill he decided to watch what she was doing. Looking over the body she paused as she spotted something, “Good shots, I mean. Looks like this really was yours after all.” Knowing the threat had all but passed, Roderick slowing unfurled himself, rising up out of the undergrowth and stepping out towards the woman. The need for stealth gone, he strode forth at his normal pace, reaching her quickly. Looking down at her, Roderick half considered dropping down into a crouch next to the deer so he wasn't looming over her. That would make things a little obvious, as well as being a little awkward, so he decided to just ignore things and introduced himself, "Rodrick." He said simply, "Sorry about the buck." Other than that there didn't seem to be anything else he could say to carry the conversation on - if it even needed to continue. Nothing else really needed to be said; if was time for him to grab his kill and leave her to find something else to kill. All the same he felt a little sorry for her, especially since there didn't seem to be anything left for him to say. "How's the days hunting been?" He said after a moments thought. A slight rustling from the bushes snapped any idea of small talk right in half, while the hunter froze in place with his hands ready on his bow. Waiting... there it was a again - something moving around in the bushes, growling a little. Turning around fully Roderick nocked an arrow and drew it back fully to his cheek, staring the bushes down silently, waiting for whatever was within to come into view so he could put it down. At the last moment, tics before he loosed, he saw the snout and heard the bark and quirked a brow. Was he seeing things here?

[Radiant]

Roderick :

Experience

Skill	XP Earned
Observation	+1 XP
Tracking	+1 XP
Hunting	+1 XP
Stealth	+1 XP
Weapon: Longbow	+1 XP

Lores

Lore Earned

N/A

Loots

Notes :

I gave what I could.

My radiance is not bright enough?

If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, beam me a PM and we can work it out.