In The Grass (Solo)

[Colt]

In The Sea (Solo) Timestamp: Fall 15, 411 Purpose: Training and Introspection Khasr pushed aside the flap of his pavilion silently and stepped into the air. Fall chilled the atmosphere, but the numbers of tents that surrounded him warded off the breeze and the sleeping bodies within them softened the cold’s bite. It was mostly dark; the sky was completely clear and the stars were visible, but in the far east the horizon was just starting to hint at grey. Nevertheless, Khasr felt slightly choked. The effect was less than it would be in the daytime, when Endrykas was awake and bustling, but though he wasn’t burdened by full claustrophobia he still didn’t particularly like being closed in. He never had, and he doubted he ever would. He gave one more look over his shoulder to ensure that the rest of his pavilion was still asleep, then turned and disappeared into the tents. The decision was made. Hadar hadn’t announced it officially, but every Windheel knew, and most were happy about it. Khasr, on the other hand, wasn’t. He knew that traveling as a single pavilion through the Sea of Grass was very dangerous, but they had managed for a long time, and Khasr just didn’t want to settle permanently into Endrykas. They were of the Emerald Clan, after all, and hunting near such a large establishment would be poor. But then again, it was fall, so all of the animals would be much more active getting ready for winter. It might make up for their inconvenient timing, but that would only be for a single season. A breath of air tickled Khasr’s cheek as he came to the edge of the tents. He stepped out into the open and took a deep breath. The air was crisp and real, crickets preformed their grating music for the world to hear, undermined by the gentle hissing of the grass swaying in the breeze. The Sea beckoned to him; wild, unfettered, awake even in the darkness. Khasr took another breath and felt a weight lift. He shed his musings, introspections, and worries, because he didn’t need them in the Sea. In the Sea, they were useless. In the Sea, he was unbound. In the Sea he could forget. Khasr smiled in spite of himself, at ease because no one could see him, and slipped into the waving stalks.

[Colt]

The grasses were his. Hunters had already completed forays for the night and were settling down, and even earlybirds were still asleep. He was dominant. The insects, a body of beings that was never fully asleep, serenaded him with their rhythmic song. It blocked Khasr’s mind and allowed him to focus completely on what he was doing. The grass stopped and he stepped lightly into what he had been looking for. A small stream two handspans wide bubbled over a bed of silt, merrily uncaring of the world’s troubles. Khasr straddled it and looked up and down the walls of grass and picked out a few rabbit trails. He knelt beside it and set up a small snare for whatever happened by, then walked upstream until he couldn’t see his first trap and set up a second one. He filled his waterskin and mentally kicked himself for not doing it earlier, and continued upstream until the channel widened and emptied into a pond. It vaguely resembled a different place with an unsavory memory, and it didn’t take much to remind him of his botched hunt. But he couldn’t dwell, not with the horizon quickly turning pink. Khasr looked around for cover and spotted an almost flawless prospect: a rock about knee-height in front of a short, scraggly tree. The climb was so easy it almost couldn’t be considered a climb, and in moments Khasr was squatting in the crook of a branch. The stars were fading fast and the sky had turned a milky grey when the first rustles of the morning started. Khasr jerked from his doze and nearly fell out of the tree, but was stable enough to avoid such misfortune. He couldn’t feel his rear end or his legs and his arms were a bit tingly, but not such that he couldn’t move. He slowly withdrew three javelins and raise one in his right hand, ready to throw as a small heard of deer-like creatures oozed onto the banks. While they were out of the grass, they seemed nervous to approach the water though thirst obviously tempted them. Finally, a thin female broke from the group and stuck two feet resiliently into the water and submerged her muzzle. Khasr could see her throat undulating as she gulped it down. The calm surface of the water shattered, and from the pond launched a massive creature. Through the brown of the water it was dark green and leathery, with a ridged back and tail. The crocodile’s gaping jaws snapped shut around the creature’s head, then as it landed spun as the reptile executed its signature death-roll, nearly severing the creature’s neck. When it was satisfied with the deer’s lack of movement it slipped back into the water and disappeared. Soundless. Invisible. Even the blood dissipated quickly. The others of the herd were immediately at ease and rushed to the water, confident that their hunter was appeased. Khasr stood on the branch, shocked. The attack had begun and ended within ten seconds, and he stared at the hint of a ripple that the crocodile had turned into. It wasn’t until the deer decided that they were slaked and started to return to the grasses that he shook himself out of it. He quickly picked a target and hurled the javelin. His target wasn’t far away by any stretch of the phrase, practically right below him, and the projectile hit it square between the shoulderblades. It let out a dying... bark?.. and sank to its knees. The other deer erupted into a panic and, confused, ran to the water’s edge to get as far away from their companion as possible. Khasr took another javelin in his right hand and hurled it at another, but he was off, far off. He didn’t even hit the one he had been aiming for, but by some stroke of luck hit another one in the flank. That one… barked… as well and tried to flee, but the stray weapon caught in a root and it twisted onto its side. He threw his third one and speared a savage-looking mound of dirt, and the rest of the herd returned to the grass like water to sand.

[Colt]

Khasr hopped from the tree and cursed as his aching legs missed the ground, landing him on his rear end. He rubbed it with slight discomfort, but he couldn’t really feel irritated after such an unexpectedly successful hunt. His first kill was quite dead, while his second target was on the ground, barking in pain and fear. Khasr limped over and it increased its struggles, and he quickly silenced it with a clean slit of the throat. He reached into his pack and withdrew a roll of thin rope, usually used for snares but useful for just about anything. He yanked the javelin from the deer’s flank and tied its front and hind legs together, threading the javelin through them to make a carrypole. He did the same to the other deer and its slayer, put one on each shoulder, and started back down the streambed. One snare was sprung but empty, and the other one had a lean-looking hare that was quite tangled and upside-down. Khasr shed his cargo, slew the creature, and hung it on one of the carrypoles. Though the sun wasn’t up, the sky was completely light by the time he reached Endrykas. A few early risers were up and about and a small number nodded to Khasr as he passed. His shoulders were more than a little tired, but if he went any faster he would risk dropping the rabbit and spending even more energy bending to pick it up. So he kept up his steady plod until he saw the horse. He stopped dead. The horse was nothing particularly special aside from its unique coloring. A pinto strider was rare, and Khasr usually remembered pintos due to their ease of identification. He remembered this one just fine and cursed under his breath. Everything that he had abandoned for the hunt came crushing down on him, mostly featuring a gentle black-haired girl that he had met over the summer. The first real emotion that surfaced was murky, painful, complete loathing, though for the life of him he couldn’t tell if it was for her or himself. He shouldn’t have shouted at her; he knew he had been unreasonable, but it wasn’t like she didn’t deserve it. She had laughed at him, which was the one thing that set him on fire quicker than anything else. Whether he liked it or not, he was sorry that he had shouted, but another part of him was condemning him for even considering apologizing. Besides, the sun wasn’t even completely up, so what was he going to do? Stand there in front of the tent until she came out? No! You are not going to apologize! You will do nothing! No! Stop! Khasr snuck forward slowly. He was on fire with conflicting thoughts and feelings, the most prominent being guilt and hate. He hated himself for feeling sorry and he hated Akilah for making him feel sorry. It wasn’t his fault. It was never his fault. Right? Khasr put the larger of the two on the ground a few feet from the entrance to the pavilion, close enough so that the residents would know it was for them but far enough away so that they wouldn’t trip over it when they came outside. Withdrawing as slowly as he had approached, he held off until he was back in the street before picking up a regular pace. He didn’t know if Akilah would know that it was specifically for her since she was with a pavilion, but it didn’t really seem to matter. He had another catch and a hare which were more than good enough for him. Damn you, Akilah.

[Quixotic]

Thread Award! Hello there Khasr, Lariat’s asked me to take a look at this thread because life’s still doing its best to devour him and you’ve been patiently waiting for a month so here I am. That said, let’s crack on with the xp shall we? Khasr Skills Tracking + 1 Trapping + 2 Hunting + 3 Wilderness Survival + 1 Weapon: Javellin + 2 Lores Claustrophobia can strike even under the open sky Fill your skin whenever you get the chance The importance of being patient Sometimes water hides dangerous secrets Poor shots can end happily Other Notes : Nicely written little solo here Khasr, had fun reading it Sorry about the wait on the grading too. That's all from me, if there're any problems just PM me and we'll see what we can do.