Closed the fool and the falcon

[Aoren]

5th of Fall 516

Aoren knelt quietly in the grass eyeing the landscape for anything promising. The unusual heat of the autumn day bore down upon him but he did his best to ignore it. The saving grace was the light breeze that rustled the grass and tousled his hair. He’d risen early that morning, leaving the small encampment that he’d made for himself on the outskirts of Endrykas. It had been a very long time since he had ventured into the wilds with the intent to hunt for himself. He couldn’t rightly recall the last time that he’d been forced to go on a hunt. For so many years he’d lived within the walls of either Syliras or in Zeltiva that it hadn’t been a skill he’d truly cultivated. Living in Endrykas however brought with it an entirely different set of necessities that one was required to focus on. They were a people who lived and died by the land and if Aoren wanted to find his place among them he needed to be able to fend for himself. Still, he couldn’t live off of dried fruits and meats forever.

Wearing only his brown leather vest and pants tucked into his boots, Aoren dressed simply. He didn’t want to be weighed down by excessive clothing while traversing the grasslands in search of prey. That and he believed that the earthly tones would help him blend into the surroundings so as to get some manner of upper hand on anything he hunted. Whether or not it was a strategy that would work, he had no idea. He’d more or less risen with the sun, dressed, grabbed his bow and arrows and set out to teach himself how to hunt. It wasn’t the best idea in the world and in retrospect he would have been better off searching Endrykas for a teacher but it was a bit late for that. Aoren would finish what he started and if he came back empty handed then so be it. It would be another night of dry rations.

Several minutes ticked by without any sign of deer, rabbit, fox or fowl. Was he even in a viable place to hunt? He thumbed the plume of an arrow resting in the quiver at his hip. Aoren had a great deal of patience but he wasn’t entirely certain that he was going about this hunting business the correct way. Gripping his shortbow a bit tighter in slight annoyance he stood up...and immediately heard the scamper of something off to his left. Head whipping in the direction of the noise, Aoren saw the tail end of a rabbit. As fast as he could, fingers fumbling over an arrow before he could properly notch it in place, he pulled back on the bowstring and with barely any thought to focus, aim, or center himself, simply released an arrow in that direction. As the arrow went whizzing by, Aoren frowned. To say that he had missed his mark would have been a colossal understatement. The arrow flew through the air wobbling miserably before landing a few yards off in nearly the entirely opposite direction he’d wanted it to go.

“Goddess grant me patience.” Aoren rubbed his face as he muttered to himself in annoyance. Perhaps he should have gotten the foundations of archery down first? He was beginning to question the intelligence of his decision to simply set out into the wilderness without any proper knowledge on what to do. More and more he was feeling like a fool. Of all the skills that Aoren possessed, the knowledge that he’d accrued in his years, the power at his disposal, he, a fit and moderately capable fighter, could barely manage to get an arrow properly in place. As for actually hitting a target, especially a moving one? The God of Luck would have to smile on him indeed before that happened. It had been quite a long time since Aoren had felt so utterly unprepared. Whether that was because of the fact that he was still adjusting to life in the Sea of Grass or simply because he was so inexperienced, he couldn’t rightly say. For the moment, he chalked it up to his own oversight and some measure of personal ego to think he could simply tackle a feat like being a successful hunter just because he wanted to.

Determination and perseverance were all fine and well but he should have known better. Skill and mastery came with practice and experience, both of which he had very little to speak of with regards to hunting. Sighing he ran a hand through his hair trudging forward intent on going in search of his arrow. He’d at least seen what direction it had landed in. The darn thing had moved slow enough and veered off course enough to be easily followed.

“Maybe luck will be on my side and I’ll just startle something to death.” He grumbled. It was going to be a long day.

[Khida]

Time passed. Summer shaded into fall, the days growing steadily shorter, though not yet cooler. He remained distant, and despite his absence, the responsibilities of the Dawnwhispers yet continued to grow -- first with the quiet girl's child, and soon with their wife's, which Khida understood might be born any day now. If the Kelvic had been given to prayer, to reading fate in the course of events, she might have been thankful that her return coincided with the need of the pavilion for a new hunter, someone to take over the task Naiya could no longer pursue, the task that others in their family had no skill for. With time's passing and the family's growth, her duties had also acquired a new degree of urgency. Once she had hunted only for herself, or in tandem for two; then she hunted for three, and as one of many for the Emerald Clan; now there were five who ate, and soon to be four who ate by proxy, plus still the Clan to provide for. Perhaps especially the Clan, for humans did not subsist on meat alone, and mizas translated into any manner of food their family desired.

It would have been... easier, at least... if Khida's aptitude had included the hunting of large game. A single deer or large antelope, well-fed with the season, could have kept them in meals for days on the merit of its value to Endrykas. But deer did not fall to the kinds of traps she used, nor were they as easy to slay by bow as their size might suggest; certainly not at her level of competence. The times the Kelvic had tried, had so far all ended in abject failure. She had yet to concede permanent defeat, but had still needed to find a way to do more.

She could always lay more traps, and did, but traps were passive; if nothing traveled through where they had been emplaced, they could not succeed. Even if they did, other predators would and did gladly take advantage of the free meal; there was only so much Khida could do to prevent that. No, rather than rely primarily on more traps, Khida had fallen back on her first aptitude, her self, and at the same time turned to another for help: her horse. Sephra was not a predator, and she certainly did not substitute for the hunter, he who was the Kelvic's first and truest partner. But, after some initial bemusement at her rider's endeavors, the Strider had proven more than willing to foray out into the Sea in the shadow of the falcon, passing the bells grazing while the raptor ranged out around her in quest for prey.

So they were now, the horse ensconced amidst the tall grass, the falcon soaring above, sun warming her wings and wind whispering through her feathers. Keen eyes raked the earth below, seeking motion, seeking the shadows and hollows where small creatures might shelter from Syna's glare. Part of her mind watched for large things too, signs of coyote or wolf or leopard, anything that might endanger the horse she had come with; but there were none of that ilk to see just now. Just a single solitary human, clothed in a fashion that suggested Drykas --

-- and a quicksilver flash of motion that captivated Khida's focus. Small, with bounding gait -- rabbit -- not far off the line between her shadow and the sun. The falcon arced about, seeing possibility; she was evidently not the only one to do so, either, as the man -- considerably closer to the quarry than she -- set arrow to his bow and let it loose. Fortune favored the rabbit, greatly; his arrow vanished into the grass well wild of its desired target, an outcome with which the onlooking Kelvic greatly sympathized. She hadn't even tried to shoot a rabbit yet, familiar as she was with their fleet motions.

The rabbit itself disappeared from view, likely vanished into the security of its warren. Neither of them would be taking that one home today. The man trudged off in search of his arrow; the falcon angled her flight in the same direction, focusing more closely on him. He looked familiar, more familiar than simply being one of Endrykas might explain... but the memory of what specific acquaintance they had remained as elusive as that rabbit. Still, the fact of recognition was cause enough for Khida to opt to aid his efforts... not least because she wanted to pin down its specifics.

Letting air slip from beneath her wings, the falcon descended to just above the height of the grasses, sweeping forward to where the arrow's passage had ceased to visibly rattle the stalks. She gave the man a modest berth along the way, passing not too closely; familiar he might be, but that was no reason to take unnecessary risks. The arrow had gone... somewhere around here. Khida banked through a wide arc and slowed, peering intently down into the grasses, seeking one more straight span among many... but one which differed, its span lateral instead of vertical, with the heft and pattern of old wood rather than straw. She passed through the same loop two, three, four times; searched within and without and farther without the zone her flight defined. In the end, that estimate proved off; when Khida at last spotted the arrow, it lay a good four feet beyond where she had expected it to have stopped. Casting a glance back at the man, reflexively marking his position and demeanor, she brought her wings in and dropped to the ground. There the Kelvic shifted in a glimmer of gray light, the better to pick up the wayward projectile and offer it back to its owner.

She could have said something -- hello, here's your arrow, how do I know you; she didn't, feeling no immediate need for words or expression beyond the simple sympathy of shared experience.

Khida space Common | Pavi
other space Common | Pavi