[Flashback]The Life of a Hunter is Never Dull(Cheshire)

[Amondaris]

26th Day of Summer, 508AV Patience. Patience is the deadliest weapon in the hunter's arsenal. A moment of impatience, of letting the weakness inherent in you rise to the fore, and your chance is gone. As gone, pup, as the prey you stalk. Now, this time, don't fidget. And stop making so much noise. Amondaris resisted the urge to rise and give his legs a badly needed stretch. Instead, he remained in his increasingly uncomfortable crouch, half-buried in snow and resigned himself to a more simple, quieter method. Heaving a mental sigh, he began tensing the muscles in his cramped legs, holding the fiercely protesting cords in such a manner before slowly, ever so slowly relaxing them. Absently, he continued the routine as he idly reflected upon Rhanor's insightful, and often painful lessons. These lessons had no set curriculum, and the subject matter ranged from patience, where and how deep to cut a man to make him suffer, to how to woo a potential mate. Rhanor's breadth of knowledge was impressive, and the man had saw fit to impart most of that knowledge to Amondaris, for which he was eternally grateful. Unlike that vagik Khanu, may Dira forever torment his soul. All he had taught him was what petty men who drink too much were worth, and what they deserved. A lesson in and of itself, he supposed. Still, he mused, his pale green eyes surveying the large outgrowth of lichen in the relatively snow-free,rocky flat area of ground in front of him, Khanu was dead. Thought he couldn't recall anything of actually killing the man, from the state of Khanu's corpse, his death had been brutal, painful and somewhat nightmarish. Tragic, really, he thought, the subtle golden tinge to his eyes betraying the only hint of his amusement. Remorse and guilt were for actions that warranted them. His wandering thoughts halted abruptly, his gaze fastening on the small caribou that had wandered cautiously into his view, it's ears flicking this way and that. Satisfied that there was no immediate danger in the area, the shaggy-furred beast made it's way over to the nearest clump of lichen. Amondaris' eyes followed the caribou's footfalls closely, his fingers curling about the wire held tightly in his fur-strapped hands. The snare he had laid earlier was a simple one, at best. While normally snares could be left unattended, and had a trigger that would give sufficient power to tighten the loop about the animal as it struggled, trapping it further, Amondaris had decided to see if this method would work. He had laid the large snare out in the rough area he had estimated a passing herbivore would be likely to go to to get a mouthful of lichen, trailing the wire over to where he had half-buried himself in the snow. In theory, the snow would hold the wire at a level above the ground, while the caribou's foot would sink lower, a quick tug on the wire causing it to tighten about the unfortunate beast's leg. Another pull, and it should topple over, where it would be up to Amondaris to seize the initiative and make the kill before it managed to right itself. Ineffective, perhaps, but he was more than willing to try out different methods of trapping prey. The same process tended to get a little tedious after a while. Satisfied that the caribou's hoof was within the right area, he wrapped the wire around his fist slowly and gave it an almighty yank. Astonishingly, the loop snapped close, tightening about the surprised beast's leg. A quick heave on the wire jerked it's foot from under it, sending the animal sprawling on it's side, hooves flailing about in panic. In a small explosion of snow, Amondaris surged from his chosen waiting spot, twin blades flashing out of their sheathes. In the blink of an eye he was upon it, his right blade whistling through the air to draw a neat cut across the caribou's neck, blood spurting forth from the wound. Moving to kneel behind the steadily weakening animal, Amondaris lifted his blade above the furred head and plunged the tip deep into the caribou's eye, the metal grating against the bone of the socket. With a few indignant twitches of it's legs as it's parting gesture, life fled from the beast's body, blood flowing from the wound in it's neck to stain the lichen below it a bright, vibrant red. Yanking his blade free and wiping off the few choice pieces of flesh, fur an dbone that chose to come with it, he returned both of his grosse messers to their sheathes without flourish. Drawing his knife, Amondaris set about slicing open the carcass's stomach, the cold metal of the blade slicing through the skin and the layer of fat beneath it with ease, the entrails spilling out in a steaming heap upon the frosted ground. While this ran the risk of attracting scavengers and the odd predator, he wasn't overly concerned. He'd tangled with some animals that had sought to steal his kill from him before, and come out the victor. Dragging a fully grown caribou all the way back to his camp wasn't exactly his idea of an ideal time, either. Whatever might show up would certainly not be large enough or desperate enough to pose much of a threat. Right?

[Cheshire]

Prey had been scarce lately, although it usually was. Life in Taldera for a wild animal was a daily struggle. The normal rules of the animal kingdom did not apply here. There was no honor code, there was no set hunting grounds. It was either you hunt what you find or you die. If you found an animal with fresh prey and you could take them down you did. That was how was when you wanted to survive to a ripe age. That was what drove a certain Taldera snow leopard who was making her way through the tundra. She had it harder than other animals in Taldera. Instead of just having to hunt for herself she had three cubs to feed. The cubs were old enough to stay in the cave alone. They could keep themselves occupied while she hunted. They were not old enough to hunt though and that was why she was out alone on this snowy day. The snow leopard pawed around trying to a scent, anything that she could hunt for her cubs. Not even a lemming was out scurrying through the snow though. She lifted her nose into the air and sniffed the cold breeze. Her ears shot up in surprise. She caught a smell. Her tail whipped back in fourth with joy. Tonight she may not starve. She breathed in the scent again, it was caribou. She licked her lips in anticipation. It was not everyday she got to dine on caribou. If she was lucky a rabbit but never a caribou. She set off in a trot towards the scent. She did not want to make any unnecessary noise or waste any of her energy. She could run when the caribou was close. As she got closer a scent hit her like a wave. Blood, and the stench was over powering. Something had gotten to the caribou first. The leopard whipped her tail angrily and bounded up through the snow until she saw a man crouched over a dead caribou. She let a low growl rumble in her throat. She was not going to let her dinner be stolen by a human. She bounded down the slope and pounced on the man. She let out a loud roar and bared her teeth. She pondered whether or not to take this human down. Food was more important than taking the human out. She gave him one last growl and trotted over to the dead caribou. She whipped her tail at the thought of a good meal. She took the caribou in her teeth and gave one last look at the hunter before bounding off into the snowy waste land again. The cubs would be wondering where she was.

[Amondaris]

A low, rumbling growl heralded the arrival of a white and grey streak that hurled itself at Amondaris, the young hunter turning in time to glimpse an angry blur before it crashed into his midsection with such force that he was knocked from his feet. The world blurred in a nauseating whirl of bloodied snow, the ground rushing up to meet him. His chest hammered into the hard-packed snow, the blow expelling the air from his lungs in a pain filled gasp. The world swam into view, and with it came the uncomfortable vision of far too many glistening, sharp teeth. Tearing his gaze from what could potentially be the instruments of his death, Amondaris' eyes, a chaotic swirl of confused colours, met the steely grey orbs of his aggressor. Time seemed to slow as he stared into those depthless, merciless pupils, and he could do naught but be held in awe of the raw, majestic beauty of the beast's gaze. Such power, such confidence! Oh, to possess the surety of a predator, the timeless grace and silent step, to revel in the simplicity of the kill. Clarity of thought came with a burst of pain, his chest struggling to rise against the weight of the leopard, his lungs barely managing to suck in a mouthful of frigid air. The shock of the chill breath was enough to jumpstart his mind, thoughts racing, desperately searching for a possible escape. He could stab the beast in it ch-No, he grasping hands found naught but air; His knife has spiraled into the air, knocked from his hand as the beast had plowed into him. What, then? Try to heave the predator's bulk off of him, and pray it didn't tear his throat out as it fell? No. He curled his fingers into a fist, the stiff leather beneath the strips of white fur creaking as he prepared to hammer a blow into the beasts head -Only to blink, taken aback as the leopard gracefully leapt from his chest and trotted over to the still steaming carcass, whereupon it seized the dead caribou in it's jaws, teeth sinking deep into the thick muscle of the caribou's shoulder. It's impressive strength was made all the more tangible as it lifted the corpse and shot a last, contemptuous look towards where Amondaris lay in a undignified heap of limbs and fur, before it loped off, fading into the white vastness of the tundra. Humbled, Amondaris lay back, a faint frown creasing the pale skin of his brow as his stormy eyes contemplated the clouds, high above. This had been an experience to remember. He had been careless, trying to skin the carcass out in the open like that. Rhanor would have beaten him senseless for such as stupid mistake. It was a miracle he was still alive! He was a long time in rising. Eventually, however, he numbly pushed himself to his feet, absently brushing the snow from his furs as he stared after at the painfully visible blood trail the leopard had left behind it. He lifted a frost-dusted handed to his cheek, the pads of his fingers rasping against the stubble shadowing his face as he considered his options. He could merely shrug, and do the sensible thing, return to camp and call it a day. He didn't actually need the meat or fur the caribou would have provided, after all. But still...His eyes, now reverted back to their usual icy blue, narrowed upon the droplets of blood that painted the leopard's wake. A crimson road for him to follow, should he desire to. He was curious as to what would drive such an animal to attack a hunter like that, only to spare him and run off with his kill. The animal didn't have the savage, feral gleam of starvation in it's eyes, and it hadn't appeared rabid... Curiosity overcame caution, his furred boot crunching upon the frozen snow as he took the first step on the bloodied trail, ignorant of what might await him.

[Cheshire]

The snow leopard's tail swished in the cold air as she started the trek home to her cubs. Tonight she would not need to listen to their starving wails because they would be fed. The thought made a purr rumble in her throat. She wanted to run back to her cave but the caribou would be impossible to run with. That was the problem with big kills, they were hard to transport. The lemming and rabbits she had been catching were easy enough to bolt through the snow with but the caribou was a different story. The large hoofed animal hung lamely from her mouth and dragged through the fresh snow. If the leopard was not so hungry and so tired she would have taken heed to the fact that her prey was leaving a crimson trail through the snow. This trail could lead anything or anyone back to her cave. She needed to get to her cubs though. Who knows what havoc they may have caused while she was gone. The cubs were at their fighting stage now. Far too often she had to swat the young ones when they got to rowdy. The were good kits though. They ceased their fighting without much swatting or nips to their ears. The jaguar was eager to get back. She knew her cubs would be overjoyed when they saw the large meal. When the jaguar got within eye slight of her cave she began to bound through the snow as if the caribou weighed nothing. Her cubs were waiting. When she got to the opening to the cave the kits bounded to her feet barely able to contain themselves. The jaguar dropped the caribou on the ground for the mewling cubs and purred as they fought to eat their share. Else where, the claws of hunger were ripping at another animal. A talderian wolf had been feeling the thought of a good meal haunting his mind. He had been separated from his pack and just the thought of a good meal was making his mouth water. It had been a good few days since he had food in his stomach. He began to sniff around for any thing to eat when the smell of blood hit him. His ears perked up and his eyes widened. There was food to be eaten. He shot off as fast as his paws could take him. Before he knew it he was outside a cave where a feline stench was overpowering. The prey must have been theirs. He growled and whipped his tail in defeat. He needed that kill. He held his head up and sniffed again. A different smell caught his senses. A human. The wolf looked around saw that a man was crouched in the snow outside the cave. He let out a growl and bared his teeth at the man. He would kill these cats but first the man would die.

[Amondaris]

Tracking the leopard wasn't exactly the most difficult thing Amondaris had ever done. The blood droplets that spattered the snow painted the path the thief had taken, and it took no hardship to follow the trail. He proceeded without undue caution, merely keeping a passive ear out for any signs of possible attack, content to stroll along and to allow his thoughts to wander. It didn't take particularly long for him to come upon the lair of the beast, as it were; A modest cave, cleverly hidden amongst upraised banks of snow. A decent abode, Amondaris admitted, one he would have had a hard time in finding if it weren't for the glaringly obvious trail the leopard had left behind it. Snow crunching softly underfoot as he crept up to get a better look inside the cave, he dropped into a crouch, cautiously making his way forward. Placing his hands in the snow, he leaned to the side, praying that the white of his cloak and armour would help to conceal him from any casual glance the leopard might throw his way. He'd already come too close to having his throat ripped out, and he didn't fancy chancing his luck at escaping the predator's wrath a second time. Squinting as he peered into the gloom of the cave, his eyes swirled into a bright orange, veined by a vivid yellow. Cubs! The leopard had three small bundles of fur and claws gathered about the fresh carcass, their little mouths tearing into the likely still warm flesh with the gusto that only great hunger could bring. The orange in his irises slowly faded, giving ground to the sunny yellow as a broad smile curved his lips. So that's why she had been audacious enough to steal his kill. Grinning, he settled back on his haunches as he watched the small family, grinning like a fool. All irritation and indignation at losing the caribou was gone; He could hardly begrudge a mother wanting to feed her young, now, could he? It was a little known fact that Amondaris, renowned for his cold, aloof manner, was much, much different when it came to animals. Where a person might be lucky enough to receive a cool smile on occasion, animals got the entirety of Amondaris' good side. People witnessing him interacting with animals often couldn't believe the change that came over the young man. Who could imagine such a dour individual was capable of such joy and unrestrained affection? He was just contemplating whether to try and take down another caribou, in order to bring it back for the fledgling family, when, for the second time that day, a threatening growl sounded from behind him. Wondering what he had done to annoy Caiyha, he slowly turned about, his hands moving to curl his fingers about the handles of his blades. Arching an eyebrow at the lone, obviously starving wolf, he slid the twin grosse messers from their sheathes, bending his knees and adopting a defensive stance. The lupine was in poor shape, it's ribs showing through it's fur, the sickly light of hunger burning in it's eyes as it stared at him, it's lips peeled back to bare it's weapons of choice. If Amondaris managed to evade the wolf and fend off it's attacks, it would surely turn it's aggression towards the felines in the cave behind him. While he was confident the mother would be able to take care of the aggressor, there was a very strong chance the starving wolf would take the life of at least one of the cubs, if not two, before their mother managed to take it down. Sighing, Amondaris rolled his shoulders forward, loosening the tense muscles as he gave the wolf an apologetic smile. Abruptly, the young hunter lashed his foot into the snow, kick a blinding burst of snow aimed at the wolf's face, hoping to blind it as he shot forward, his left sword held low, close to his chest. Closing in, he swung his right blade in a swift, merciless arc, the blade whistling as it cut through the air towards the wolf's chest.

[Cheshire]

The wolf glared at the human hunter. He was not going to let this meal go to waste because of some man. He got down in a offensive stance and got ready to pounce. His stomach growled almost as if it was ordering him to kill the man. There was not time to lose. His strength was faltering every moment that he did not attack. Every moment was one more moment that he had lost. Before the wolf could leap at the man he saw a flash of show cloud his vision. He panicked as his field vision turned completely white. He whipped his head around trying to clear eyes. By the time he could see the man it was to late. His blade was swinging right at the wolf's chest. He barely had time time to move out of the way. The wolf was strong but hunger had made him slow and frail. He should have hunted something smaller before going after the human. He felt the blade cut through his chest. He fell to the ground with a thud and struggled to get up. He felt his chest dripping into the snow turning it a crimson red. He took a shaky step forward and growled at the hunter. It was now or never. He had to take down the human. It would give him the strength to steal one of the leopard cubs. He dashed forward and rammed into the man's legs with all of his might trying to knock him over. Once the man was on the ground the wolf stalked over top of him and bit into his shoulder and shook his head trying to rip some muscle off. Even a little bit of meat could do a lot for his state. In the cave the leopard watched with careful eyes. The human who was once staring into her cave and observing her cubs was now protecting her and her children. He was a curious man indeed. He was risking his life for an animal that had stolen his kill. She looked back at her cubs who were happily fighting each other and ripping at the caribou carcass. She walked over and ate some of the meat. She only ate to put her hunger at bay. She wanted to leave most of the food for her cubs. She pawed over to the mouth of the cave. Her tail twitched curiously as she watched the two fight. She was thankful for the man protecting her cave but she would not get involved unless the wolf stepped into her cave. The man had chose this fight and he would have to end it himself.

[Amondaris]

With a wet noise that was all too familiar with Amondaris, the blade sliced open a thin wound upon the wolf's chest. Blood sprayed forth, the lurid intensity of the precious fluid presenting a sudden and startling contrast to the bleak monotone of the tundra wastes. Still wary of his wounded adversary, for Amondaris was quite familiar with the surprising strength a heavily wounded animal could possess, the young hunter was nevertheless taken aback as, for the second time that day, the ground decided to become very friendly. He didn't have much time to curse gravity's malicious intent, however, as any thoughts he may have had were rather rudely interrupted by a set of jaws clamping onto his shoulder. Luckily enough, his leather armour was enough to prevent the teeth from sinking too far into the flesh and causing any lasting damage, but it couldn't stop the starving animal's jaws entirely. Long, curved teeth pierced through the white leather and sank into the pale flesh that lay beneath, pain and blood blossoming from the wound with equal enthusiasm. It hurt. A lot. The vivid colour of the blood was now matched by the deep, crimson red that flooded Amondaris' irises, a ragged roar escaping from the depths of his chest. Releasing his hold on the grosse messers, he hammered a thunderous blow into the side of the wolf's head, grasped it by the fur of it's neck and tore it from where it stood, tatters of flesh and white leather held tightly in the beast's jaws. Surging to his feet, Amondaris lunged at the starving, wounded animal like a man possessed, crashing his fists into the wolf's skull once, twice, the third blow sending the beast staggering back in pain and confusion. Giving the lesser animal no reprieve, the man drove the heel of his boot into the wolf's midsection, blood from it's chest wound flowing with icnreased vigor as it was sent tumbling to the snow. Stalking over to where the feebly struggling animal lay, Amondaris grasped it, fingers curling tightly into the animal's fur. Lifting his defeated opponent above his head with appalling, rage-fueled strength, he let loose another beastial roar and hurled the battered wolf down, bringing his knee up to smash into the canid's spine. With a faint gurgle, the fallen predator slipped to the ground, the life fleeing from it's body as swiftly as the blood pouring onto the snow. Standing over the crumpled body of his attacker, the blood-spattered man swayed slightly, panting from both the exertion and the adrenaline of the fight. Faintly, as if from a vast distance, a whispering snarl echoed within the halls of his mind, and he could have sworn it spoke, the words so quiet and distorted as to be incomprehensible. A heavy frown knitted his brows together, and he gave himself a shake, muttering, "Imagining things.." Slowly, his gaze slid down to the broken animal that lay at his feet. Slowly, he sank to his knees beside it and gathered the poor wolf to him, cradling it's head in his lap. Whispering softly to it, his voice thick with sorrow and regret, he said, "Oh, little one..I'm sorry. You just wanted to eat and I got in the way.." Stroking the blood-matted fur with trembling hands, he bowed his head and closed his eyes, murmuring, "Better this than to die a slow death from starvation. Thank you for allowing me to end this child's suffering, Caiyha. Your mercy will not go unnoticed or without thanks." Gently, he settled the wolf back onto the soft snow and rose to his feet, wincing at the lump of pain and blood that was his shoulder. Clenching his jaw, he made his way over to where he had dropped his blades, using the snow to clean the blood from them before sheathing them and turning to study the leopard family within the cave. He wasn't going to try his luck any further, today. He'd have to be careful if the leopard showed any signs of hostility. Turning his back to leave, only to be pounced on for the third time in one day was not something he was willing to go through.

[Cheshire]

. Character: Amondaris Experience: Hunting +2, Stealth +1, Land Navigation +1, Trapping +2, Wilderness Survival +1, Sword +1 Lore: Motherly Instincts of Felines, Survival Instincts of Wolves Additional Note: Great thread! It was really well written. I hope to thread with you again. Maybe next time with an NPC where I won't be putting your life in danger. Feel free to change the Sword XP to fit what sword you were using. I was unsure so I just put sword. .