Flashback [Closed]Hunt for Yourself

[Aran Windblown]

37 Summer, 503AV Aran swallowed heavily as Anyalvis carried them out of the protective ring of tents. The Drykas carried only a game bag and bolts for his shortbow. This was his first time hunting solo. His first time going out in the Sea of Grass by himself. Well, he had Anyalvis, but other than that, Aran was alone. Anyalvis, sensing his rider's mood, tossed his head and lifted his hindquarters in a mock-buck to jostle Aran from his thoughts. Aran yelped and pitched forward, clinging to the Strider's mane. "Anyalvis," Aran snapped, though it lacked heat. "Can you not behave yourself for five minutes?" Anyalvis snorted and tossed his head, whickering. Aran rolled his eyes, then his shoulders, forcing himself to take a deep breath to calm down. "You can do this," he reminded himself. "Father would not have sent you out in you couldn't." Nevermind that Aran had next-to-no skill in either the shortbow or hunting, the point of this exercise was to see how much Aran could figure out by himself. Turning to face out towards the grassy plains, Aran straightened his shoulder. "Let's do this," he muttered to himself, urging Anyalvis into a swift canter.

[Aran Windblown]

Aran studied the ground intently. He thought there were some tracks here, but... Well, he couldn't quite make them out. Aran frowned, casting around for more tracks, and finally spotted some rumpled grass a few feet away. He walked over, Anyalvis following behind, his bow in one hand and his quiver slung over his back. The tracks were definitely of an avian nature, but Aran couldn't figure out what species. Large, that much was certain. I wonder... Aran knew that humans, particularly men, could take a stride as long as they were tall. He wondered if the same held true for birds; if it did, then this was one huge bird. Aran whistled, calling Anyalvis to him from where the stallion had wandered off a little ways to graze while Aran thought. The Strider came back quickly, ears pricked, and Aran swung aboard easily. "All right, let's see if we can find out what type of bird this is," he said, nudging Anyalvis with his heels. The stallion stepped out easily, and Aran kept his eyes to the ground, peeled for any sign of more tracks, trusting his Strider to look out and make sure they wouldn't trip over anything. This was the beauty of the bond between Drykas and Strider-- they trusted each other implicitly, and could understand one another better than any other horse-and-person team out there, except perhaps the horses that Aran had heard were favored by Mages precisely because of their intelligence. Still, Aran wouldn't trade Anyalvis for the world. The tracks led west, and while the spacing was uneven, it averaged approximately seven-and-a-half feet; large enough to send shivers down Aran's spine and make him reconsider following. But now he was curious; he wanted to see what kind of bird this was. Besides, if he got into trouble, he could always run away on Anyalvis; the Strider was quickly making a name for himself as one of the fastest-- certainly not the fastest, but close-- stallions in Endrykas. Not much would be able to catch him.

[Aran Windblown]

Aran sat back, resting his weight more heavily in his seat, silently cuing Anyalvis to halt. The Strider complied, ears pricking; he'd heard the same thing Aran had: rustling. Aran slid off of Anyalvis, immediately falling into a low crouch. He held his bow in the 'ready' position he'd been practicing for a while, sliding one arrow from his quiver and notching it, pulling back on the string and arrow just enough to create tension as he crept forward, straining to get a clue of what exactly he was coming up on. He could hear feathers, and scratching; definitely the bird he'd been tracking. Unfortunately, the bird had heard him as well: It stood up from where it had been dust-bathing, Syna's light catching on its beak and... reflecting. Glassbeak. Aran reared to his feet, dropping the arrow and slinging his bow across his back as he whistled shrilly; he could hear Anyalvis's hoofbeats, but the bird was approaching as well. He'd been warned about glassbeaks; why, why had he thought it would be a good idea to track down a large bird on his first solo hunt? Barely sparing a glance at the yvas, Aran grabbed one of the handles as Anyalvis ran past, using the motion of the Strider to help swing himself up. He immediately grasped two handfuls of mane, shouting, "Go, go, go!" Anyalvis ran like the wind, but the glassbeak was almost as fast. Aran could hear it behind them, its footsteps only slightly louder than the roaring in his ears. Aran gasped for breath, the wind whipping tears from his eyes as he cursed himself and his stupidity; he hadn't ascertained what he was tracking, and by doing so, had put both himself and Anyalvis in danger. Luckily it was only a single glassbeak, but even a single one was one too many for Aran's liking. The glassbeak showed no signs of slowing down; if anything, it was slowly creeping up on the rider and Strider. Breathing harshly, Aran's mind raced faster than either glassbeak or horse, searching for a way out of this. Glassbeaks were vicious and persistent; this one wouldn't just get bored of him. It had to be a juvenile male, no other explanation for a glassbeak to be traveling the grasslands alone. The only way Aran would survive this would be to kill the glassbeak, and that would require an extremely lucky shot, considering Aran had little to no skill in archery. He was running out of time, though; the glassbeak was closing in.

[Aran Windblown]

Glancing back at the glassbeak one last time, Aran felt his heartbeat ratchet up another several notches-- there were two more glassbeaks behind the first. The blood drained from his face as Aran faced forward once more, urging Anyalvis on faster, praying to all the gods he could think of that someone, anyone would feel through the web that he was in trouble. Aran used his knees to guide Anyalvis around obstacles; the last thing he needed was for Anyalvis to stumble; that would be a certain death sentence. Over the pounding of his heart, he could hear another pounding, one more familiar than the glassbeaks's footsteps: hoofbeats. Glancing over his shoulder, Aran could see several Drykas approaching, but he didn't breathe a sigh of relief yet; he still had to evade the predators until the hunters could kill them. It felt like forever, and Anyalvis took several scrapes to his hindquarters from the lead glassbeak, before the other hunters managed to dispatch the last glassbeak. Aran slowed Anyalvis before circling around to approach the other hunters, shame heavy in his heart. The shame was only increased when he saw his father was one of the hunters. "Father," he began, sliding off of Anyalvis's back, but the older Drykas cut him off. "What were you thinking?" the Ankal demanded, rounding on his son. "I sent you to hunt, not to track down a glassbeak and endanger yourself and Anyalvis! You're lucky that we were already close by when I felt that you were in trouble." Aran hung his head. "I know," he murmured. "It was stupid of me, Father. Please, you can berate me and punish me all you want later, but I need to care for Anyalvis; the glassbeaks got in a few hits." Sirot studied his son intently for a moment before nodding to one of the other Drykas. "Give him the medicine kit," he ordered. Then he fixed Aran with a stern look. "You will accompany us back to Endrykas; there, we will determine what exactly is to be done with you." Aran took the medicine kit gratefully, nodding his understanding to his father before he turned to his Strider, carefully cleaning and dressing the wounds. By the grace of the gods, none of the scratches were deep, but that fact did nothing to comfort the shame that Aran felt, that his actions had led to his beloved stallion being injured. He cared little for himself, but Anyalvis was everything.

[Aran Windblown]

That night, Aran was out grooming Anyalvis and double-checking the dressings on the stallion's wounds yet again. It wasn't that he didn't trust the healers' work, it was that he needed to reassure himself that Anyalvis was still all right. He'd been assured that it was all surface damage, the glassbeaks hadn't torn any muscles badly enough to endanger the stallion, though they warned him to not push the Strider too hard for the next week or two. Aran heard footsteps behind him, and turned to see his father staring at him intently. He inclined his head in respect to his Ankal, and then resumed grooming. He heard Sirot approach, but he didn't turn around. "An eventful first hunt," Sirot commented, coming to a stop just behind and to the left of Aran. "Not many manage to become the hunted." Aran snorted. "Not many are that stupid," he corrected. "I know that it was stupid of me to track down a beast whose tracks I could not identify. Doing so put me and Anyalvis in danger." He stroked the stallion's shoulder. "Nothing is worth that risk." Sirot nodded and laid a hand on Anyalvis's shoulder. "Then you have learned a valuable lesson," he said quietly. "You will not be punished-- I believe seeing your Strider injured is punishment enough." Aran had to blink back tears. The emotions and events of the day finally catching up with him. "We could have died," he murmured, and then abandoned all pretense of control-- he spun, flinging himself into his father's embrace. "We could have died-- he could have died," he sobbed. Then he couldn't speak for the sobs, and he was grateful that all his father did was hold him, stroking his back soothingly. Aran didn't quiet until he felt Anyalvis's soft nose prodding at his shoulder, the stallion making soft noises. Aran pulled back from his father, lifting one hand to scratch under Anyalvis's forelock in a gesture of comfort. Sirot clapped a hand to the young Drykas's shoulder. "You will practice with that bow of yours before you go on another hunt," he said firmly. "I would not have this happen again." Aran could only nod in agreement.

[Taylani]

XP Award!

Character 1:

XP Award:

• +2 riding
• +2 tracking

Lore:

• Learning by doing
• The bond between Strider and Human means implicit trust.

Notes:

Comments :

Nice short solo. If you had described the grooming of Aran’s strider more rather then simply stating “grooming him” or even described tending his wounds more I could have awarded you some horsemanship points. Unfortunately at a competent level in Horsemanship simple brushing of a coat is something that is old hand and nothing new.
As always feel free to pm me if you have any concerns about your grading. Don’t forget to edit/delete your grade request

TAYLANI