.
.
51st of Spring, 515AV
____________________________________
The bow was a problem. With it's too dark of wood, with it's incorrect weight, with the draw that was too heavy, with it's companion quiver in leather too new and arrows whose fletching was all the wrong color. It sat accusingly, set aside and even partially covered with a blanket to avoid having to be seen, but Khara knew it was there; just like she had known it was there the entire day. Taking it had been an accident, a slip of the mind when she had otherwise been occupied with trying to cope with an undead menace. The aftermath had demanded that she help, that she explain, but at no time had anyone drawn attention to the shortbow at her back. An Inarta having a bow was like a bird having feathers, it was expected and no one thought strangely of it. So Khara hadn't thought strangely of it until she had returned to her and Zhol's room late that evening and had gone to set the weapon down only to find her own already occupying the space.
She had panicked, had started chirping frantically about how she hadn't meant to and how she had to take it back but didn't know who to take it back to. It was almost amusing how it was only later that Khara had finally gotten around to telling the full story of why she had the bow in the first place and how she had managed to speak of setting an undead creature alight with perfect calm until her tale had crossed paths with the immediate problem once more. There had been tears and numbness from not breathing right and a horrific weight of guilt that had formed a lump in her throat until Zhol had managed to calm her. He had assured her that he knew she'd do the right thing, that the very fact she was upset more than proved the act wasn't malicious, how it could be sorted out tomorrow.
But tomorrow had come, and a few hunters had wanted her and another scout to accompany them, and so the bow and the search had to remain behind, even if all her worries refused to. All day long Khara could only think of was how much she was inconveniencing someone else, how they may have needed it for their own day at work, and how much trouble she was going to be in when she finally went to return it for not having done so immediately.
The best thing to do, Khara knew, was to not wait any longer to begin the search for the bow's owner. Too much time had already been lost, but somewhere in her near-hysterics she had managed to have enough wits to notice that the bow wasn't finely crafted enough to be owned by an Endal, but it was certainly not among the poorer quality toted by Chiet who had purchased their own. She had come to the conclusion that it must have been owned by an Avora and that had started a whole avalanche of thought of how she would be thanked for returning the item. Once again it had been Zhol who provided the simple solution, the easy answer to what she saw as an impossible situation; he would accompany her and help find the owner. Khara just hadn't expected him to finish work after her, hadn't expected to be spending more time alone with it and her thoughts.
Her golden gaze was forcefully tugged away from the mocking sight and back to the ink stained pages of her journal. The first few shapes of her best recollection of a rabbit print stared back at her and Khara almost forcefully dipped the quill back into the ink and slowly brought it to the paper to complete another circular shape that she knew represented the smaller pads that made up the print. A sigh left as she looked at the completed drawing, a nagging sensation letting her know that something about it wasn't right. She was too distracted to try and make a good effort, Khara knew that, but she had been stubborn and saw it as a way to pass time until Zhol returned from the stables.
Her finger was gently pressed against the finished drawing of the rabbit's print, testing that the ink had dried enough that she could turn the pages back to review older drawings she'd made. Thankfully animal prints were mostly simple shapes and easy for even someone who wasn't exactly skilled and that suited Khara just fine. Her only regret came from the blobulous mass that was her best approximation of the creature that had attacked the small rescue party she had been part of back in Winter. There was no way she could capture the horrific hulking shape, the way the stitches had held together rotting flesh, the terror its many eyes had caused. She had tried though, but it was a crude looking thing and she knew the image of the creature would be blurred within her mind before she ever gained enough skill to truly capture it on paper. Remembering the monstrosity wasn't pleasant, but the far fresher memory of the shambling one-armed corpse of the day before had dragged it back up. Khara almost wished there was a way to burn the memories of such monsters away like you could their actual forms. No doubt the new one would start lurking in the shadows of her dreams along with it's much larger and menacing counterpart. One of them would probably be using the very bow that plagued her waking thoughts...
The notion threatened to unnerve her and she was just about to snap the small bound book shut when the door to the room opened. Her left hand raised in a new nervous habit that was forming, fingertips sliding to wrap against the curve of her neck as her eyes raised away from the lumpy drawing in anticipation of a far more agreeable sight.
.
51st of Spring, 515AV
____________________________________
The bow was a problem. With it's too dark of wood, with it's incorrect weight, with the draw that was too heavy, with it's companion quiver in leather too new and arrows whose fletching was all the wrong color. It sat accusingly, set aside and even partially covered with a blanket to avoid having to be seen, but Khara knew it was there; just like she had known it was there the entire day. Taking it had been an accident, a slip of the mind when she had otherwise been occupied with trying to cope with an undead menace. The aftermath had demanded that she help, that she explain, but at no time had anyone drawn attention to the shortbow at her back. An Inarta having a bow was like a bird having feathers, it was expected and no one thought strangely of it. So Khara hadn't thought strangely of it until she had returned to her and Zhol's room late that evening and had gone to set the weapon down only to find her own already occupying the space.
She had panicked, had started chirping frantically about how she hadn't meant to and how she had to take it back but didn't know who to take it back to. It was almost amusing how it was only later that Khara had finally gotten around to telling the full story of why she had the bow in the first place and how she had managed to speak of setting an undead creature alight with perfect calm until her tale had crossed paths with the immediate problem once more. There had been tears and numbness from not breathing right and a horrific weight of guilt that had formed a lump in her throat until Zhol had managed to calm her. He had assured her that he knew she'd do the right thing, that the very fact she was upset more than proved the act wasn't malicious, how it could be sorted out tomorrow.
But tomorrow had come, and a few hunters had wanted her and another scout to accompany them, and so the bow and the search had to remain behind, even if all her worries refused to. All day long Khara could only think of was how much she was inconveniencing someone else, how they may have needed it for their own day at work, and how much trouble she was going to be in when she finally went to return it for not having done so immediately.
The best thing to do, Khara knew, was to not wait any longer to begin the search for the bow's owner. Too much time had already been lost, but somewhere in her near-hysterics she had managed to have enough wits to notice that the bow wasn't finely crafted enough to be owned by an Endal, but it was certainly not among the poorer quality toted by Chiet who had purchased their own. She had come to the conclusion that it must have been owned by an Avora and that had started a whole avalanche of thought of how she would be thanked for returning the item. Once again it had been Zhol who provided the simple solution, the easy answer to what she saw as an impossible situation; he would accompany her and help find the owner. Khara just hadn't expected him to finish work after her, hadn't expected to be spending more time alone with it and her thoughts.
Her golden gaze was forcefully tugged away from the mocking sight and back to the ink stained pages of her journal. The first few shapes of her best recollection of a rabbit print stared back at her and Khara almost forcefully dipped the quill back into the ink and slowly brought it to the paper to complete another circular shape that she knew represented the smaller pads that made up the print. A sigh left as she looked at the completed drawing, a nagging sensation letting her know that something about it wasn't right. She was too distracted to try and make a good effort, Khara knew that, but she had been stubborn and saw it as a way to pass time until Zhol returned from the stables.
Her finger was gently pressed against the finished drawing of the rabbit's print, testing that the ink had dried enough that she could turn the pages back to review older drawings she'd made. Thankfully animal prints were mostly simple shapes and easy for even someone who wasn't exactly skilled and that suited Khara just fine. Her only regret came from the blobulous mass that was her best approximation of the creature that had attacked the small rescue party she had been part of back in Winter. There was no way she could capture the horrific hulking shape, the way the stitches had held together rotting flesh, the terror its many eyes had caused. She had tried though, but it was a crude looking thing and she knew the image of the creature would be blurred within her mind before she ever gained enough skill to truly capture it on paper. Remembering the monstrosity wasn't pleasant, but the far fresher memory of the shambling one-armed corpse of the day before had dragged it back up. Khara almost wished there was a way to burn the memories of such monsters away like you could their actual forms. No doubt the new one would start lurking in the shadows of her dreams along with it's much larger and menacing counterpart. One of them would probably be using the very bow that plagued her waking thoughts...
The notion threatened to unnerve her and she was just about to snap the small bound book shut when the door to the room opened. Her left hand raised in a new nervous habit that was forming, fingertips sliding to wrap against the curve of her neck as her eyes raised away from the lumpy drawing in anticipation of a far more agreeable sight.
"Nari" | "Common" | "Pavi"