Spring 12th, 510 AV | The body is a tool | Solo
A light breeze blew through the field that they made camp in. The young adult Drykas stood with his spear in his hands, the blade pointing upwards towards the sky. His eyes were closed as the wind blew his lose hair behind, his Strider off munching on the grass behind him. Baltair stood almost as still as a statue as the breeze carried on wrapping around him.
He lifted the spear into one hand as he turned on the heels of his feet, he walked over to Emyla and ran his hand along her flank and up her side. She lifted her head and stared at him, a quiet neigh answering his touch. He hugged the striders neck before sliding around her and pulled himself on top of her slowly. He held the point of the spear out away from the two of them. He lifted it up and pointed it at the sky again towards Syna. He clicked against his cheek and Emyla responded with a whinny, and started moving towards sun.
As the two rode together Baltair leaned towards the right, his right let pressing against her side. She turned inwards in respect and circled towards the camp. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and held on tight to his yvas, his spear in his right hand. The two of them took off in a gallop, Baltair cheered at the top of his lungs as the two rode on. The wind blew his hair around wildly, he leaned forward almost laying flat on Emyla's back, his finger tips brushing against the tall grass.
As the two rode closer to the city, their pace slowed to a slow trot as they walked around the edge of the city. Once they kept to the edge of the diamond clans area, he hopped off of Emyla stumbling slightly. The muscles in his body tensed for a moment as he caught himself before standing up, he twisted the spear in his hand pointing it outward. He looked over the clearing that he had stopped in and smiled brightly.
The grass brushed against his legs as he slowly walked away from the camp with Emyla following behind him. He turned and slowly signed the words happy and praise. He looked up into the sky, Syna's warmth shining down on him. He took in a deep breath, his lungs filling to their maximum capacity before releasing the breath in one long sigh. He nodded at Emyla, the buckskin horse went about grazing near the Drykas.
Baltair made his way back to his tent with his spear in hand. As he pushed open the flaps relieving the rather empty interior, he sat the spear next to the entrance and grabbed a leather strap to pull his hair back into a ponytail. He walked over the flattened grass to an open area beside the tent. He slowly lowered himself to his knees. He leaned forward placing his palms firmly on the ground, a little less then a shoulders length apart and rose on the balls of his feet.
The muscles in his upper arms and shoulders tensed as he held himself up for a few ticks before lowering himself close to ground level. He pushed himself up with a snort, the air escaping his lungs as he pushed. He held himself there for a tick, letting his breath flow normally before lowering himself again. The muscles in his arms flexing and tensing as he raised and lowered himself. "One. Two. Three" he counted in sequence as he continued his work out. His shoulder blades arched every time he lowered himself, pushing against the skin and muscles in his back. "Six. Seven. Eight" he continued before he returned to his nearly horizontal position at the count of ten. His breath slightly labored as the sweat began to bead on his forehead.
He lifted the spear into one hand as he turned on the heels of his feet, he walked over to Emyla and ran his hand along her flank and up her side. She lifted her head and stared at him, a quiet neigh answering his touch. He hugged the striders neck before sliding around her and pulled himself on top of her slowly. He held the point of the spear out away from the two of them. He lifted it up and pointed it at the sky again towards Syna. He clicked against his cheek and Emyla responded with a whinny, and started moving towards sun.
As the two rode together Baltair leaned towards the right, his right let pressing against her side. She turned inwards in respect and circled towards the camp. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and held on tight to his yvas, his spear in his right hand. The two of them took off in a gallop, Baltair cheered at the top of his lungs as the two rode on. The wind blew his hair around wildly, he leaned forward almost laying flat on Emyla's back, his finger tips brushing against the tall grass.
As the two rode closer to the city, their pace slowed to a slow trot as they walked around the edge of the city. Once they kept to the edge of the diamond clans area, he hopped off of Emyla stumbling slightly. The muscles in his body tensed for a moment as he caught himself before standing up, he twisted the spear in his hand pointing it outward. He looked over the clearing that he had stopped in and smiled brightly.
The grass brushed against his legs as he slowly walked away from the camp with Emyla following behind him. He turned and slowly signed the words happy and praise. He looked up into the sky, Syna's warmth shining down on him. He took in a deep breath, his lungs filling to their maximum capacity before releasing the breath in one long sigh. He nodded at Emyla, the buckskin horse went about grazing near the Drykas.
Baltair made his way back to his tent with his spear in hand. As he pushed open the flaps relieving the rather empty interior, he sat the spear next to the entrance and grabbed a leather strap to pull his hair back into a ponytail. He walked over the flattened grass to an open area beside the tent. He slowly lowered himself to his knees. He leaned forward placing his palms firmly on the ground, a little less then a shoulders length apart and rose on the balls of his feet.
The muscles in his upper arms and shoulders tensed as he held himself up for a few ticks before lowering himself close to ground level. He pushed himself up with a snort, the air escaping his lungs as he pushed. He held himself there for a tick, letting his breath flow normally before lowering himself again. The muscles in his arms flexing and tensing as he raised and lowered himself. "One. Two. Three" he counted in sequence as he continued his work out. His shoulder blades arched every time he lowered himself, pushing against the skin and muscles in his back. "Six. Seven. Eight" he continued before he returned to his nearly horizontal position at the count of ten. His breath slightly labored as the sweat began to bead on his forehead.
