A Game of Cat & Mouse [Closed]

[Tythos Everstorm]

Timestamp: 4th Day of Fall, 512 AV; 14th Bell (2pm-ish) Location: Estimated 12-13 hours away from The Spires Having been born in a militaristic life the sensations of combat had become a symphony of pain no matter how controlled or tempered it was. The ambient music of the environment, sound of an opponents breathing patterns, the vibration of an opponents heart beat, the motion of someone’s body language; all of it had been the shades that illustrated Typhos’s life. They were the great freedoms. The great oppressions. They were the defining instinct that lingered between moments coloring whether you lived or died. That thrill for combat was what also defined his emotions when hunting. Sanguine. It was a word that defined how Typhos felt when hunting. It was a word that meant feeling cheerfully optimistic about something. Likewise, it defined a blood-red color. While living in the Spires Typhos grew to respect life, yet having been raised in a culture where hunting was a sport to ‘prove ones mettle’ he struggled to not needlessly kill a creature for sport. Typhos had left the Spires in the early morning, venturing into the early morning fall mist to start his day of hunting. As the mist dissipated, the morning dew covered everything with the promise of purity through the coverings of clean water. This change of weather provided several insightful thoughts to flash though his mind. The first of these thought were the time of day, since the mist had faded it signaled the arrival of mid-day which gave him an estimate of how long he would have before nightfall. His second thought was related to the Animal life, currently the birds had all started to chirp giving the forest its distinct sound of nature. This meant as the smaller wild life came out, the larger game was also out to hunt for food. That provided a danger to his personal survival, likewise it meant maybe he could bag himself a good sized stag for venison or maybe a good thirty pound bobcat. Typhos was slightly crouched as he looked around his surroundings, looking out for anything that could be of any use. He hardly found any tracks, though he did find somewhat fresh droppings around a bush that had chewed vegetation. It meant some of animal had been feeding on it which was the sign that made him decide to set up an animal snare in the area. He had only brought the one strong cage with a spring-loaded trap door. Setting it up around the bush he hoped it would catch a plump rabbits or squirrel by the time he arrived to check on it. ***** Staying in his crouch the pale blue skinned Isur look completely different from a distance. He wore a cured hide armor that wrapped around his body mimicking the appearance of a black bear. In his crouch the fur was closely held to his body hiding most of his skin color. The head of the bear connected to the hide was pulled over his head like a helmet. Typhos was no light man, weighing around two hundred eighty five pounds added by his small five foot height made him appear to be a small bear. Not to mention the hide armor smelled like a bear to mask his scent slightly. Despite everything, he still had weapons on him nestled snuggly under belt; on the right side sat a single throwing axe, while a boomerang rested snuggly against his lower back under his belt. He wore no shirt, allowing the thick fur hide to warm him up as he only had on his cotton pants and low boots. Carrying only the things he needed to hunt… After checking on the cage one last time to make sure the small snare was set, he moved on slowly to explore the area for any signs of an animal…

[Delayni Vesse]

The spotted feline sat casually on a rock, brushing a nearby plant gently with her long tail. She wondered what the plant tasted like. Would it takes like the addictive herbs she once learned to love? Did it sting the nose and throat when inhaled, or was it like swallowing a smooth petal? Whatever the taste or texture, Delayni was in no mood for herbal abuse today-- a feeling that rarely crossed her mind. Lately, however, the shifter was feeling a bit more responsible, a tad on the lively side. After dropping her alcoholic tendencies, Delay felt as though she had more energy than usual to deal with. Which is what led her here, to the outlaying forests of The Spires. She had figured that, with all this new energy to be spent, she'd best put her body, or mind, to use. This, of course, was easier said than done. Delayni had really no real hunting talents to speak of, knew nothing about helpful plants to the Spirian community and found her speed of no use to her, what with all the foilage to provide nicely placed obstacles. So, instead of bringing back food for the other Shrine felines, collecting herbs for the healers or even just burning off some energy via a short sprint, Dela sat still. Glancing around, the cheetah contemplated climbing a tree. She did love climbing, and it surely was better than sitting around for bells on end. Delay stood, looking up at the nearest tree while tilting her head. Her eyes scanned the tree for an entry point. After a moment, she found a low branch. Smiling--rather, the animal equivalent of smiling; she most likely looked like she was snarling-- while swishing her tail, Dela readied herself to pounce forward onto the branch. Maybe thise won't be too bad of a day afterall...

[Tythos Everstorm]

His journey through the forest had slowed down remarkably as he searched for any signs of game to hunt. Each of his steps were calculated enough to avoid stepping on anything that would scare away any game. Though he couldn’t help but kick himself on the inside when a twig cracked underneath him. Even when he saw no game around a snapping twig made his heart as if something was following him. Typhos let out a hearty sigh as he tore his fought back the urge of laughing at himself. Truly, in hindsight, the fact that he had scared himself made him relaxed at the fact he only feared himself. No animal, nor person would hold control of his fears. A slight, satisfied smile settled upon his face as he began moving once more. The slow silhouette of a bear trailed tough the forest until something interesting caught his eye in the distance. It seemed the world was proving to be continuously unpredictable as he spotted a small cheetah in front of a tree. This was proving to be a surprising pleasure as he wanted the pelt for a more personal trophy rather then any food. It wasn’t often he saw such a wild cat like it around this parts of the northern reaches so he took any precaution to not give away his position. Moving down wind to mask his true smell even if he used dirt combined with his armor hides smell to mask it. Moving in a low upright stalk, his already slow pace was cut in half by thirty seconds making every step painfully slow to mute as much sounds as possible. Typhos stood squarely to the right side of the Cheetah as his right hand reached to his side to retrieve the throwing axe from his belt. Feeling the coarse wooden handle within his palm he estimated the distance at about twenty feet. Bring his right arm backward straight over his shoulder, he swung the axe downward in a motion that felt relatively close to the force he used when swinging a blacksmithing hammer to an anvil. The sound of the axe flying though the air was small though not silent. The whistling of wind being cut sounded as it closed in on the target. Typhos waited feeling sanguine as he watched the axe fly…

[Delayni Vesse]

Delayni was just about to leap towards her target when a noise captured her attention. Pausing, she turned to view a medium sized object whirling through the air. Rock? No, stick? No! Axe! With all her might, the feline yanked her chest backwards. In hindsight, she'd have to admit ducking would have been the better choice, as the blade sliced through one of her front limbs as she reared. A sharp squel shot from her clenched jaws as she began to fall backwards off the stone. Hitting the ground beside the rock, Delay took no time in scrambling back to her feet. She had to get away from whatever had flung that weapon at her and, Cheetah be as Cheetah does, running was the only option she thought of. The feline attempted to pick up a sprint, but the only speed she could muster was a pathetic limping pace. No matter how much willing she put forth, her body still refused to move. Why did her mind have to be so stubborn? Grunting, Delay glared over her shoulder to assess the threat. Spotting the hunter who had targeted her, her body soon realized that speed might very well be a good idea: he was huge. Muscles rippled where she was sure muscles couldn't form. At his side, more weapons and traps. He was a professional, no doubt, and normally Delay would respect that, marvel at it, even. Except today this professional was a hunter, and she was the hunted. I should probably get a move on now. She forcefully suggested to her body, which now, after seeing no chance of a win in a fight with such a monster, happily obliged. "Petcher," She hissed at the blue man over her shoulder before picking up a painful, yet quick, trot.