Open Wasteland

[Ishara Dossari]

When: 20th of Fall in the Year 512 AV
Where: City Outskirts, on the charred plains of the grasslands.



Fires had come. Fires had plowed across the grasslands in a hot and whirling rage, leaving charred earth behind. The smell of smoke still clung to the air. As Ishara watched the sun peek over the darkened horizon, the contrast between the periwinkle-washed sky of dawn and the blackened landscape came to full life. The gentle swell of the landscape sported a fine stubble of burnt tufts of grass, and in places where the fire raged even hotter there was no more than a fine layer of dark ash.

It resembled a wasteland.

But life would press forth. Ishara knelt tothe ground, wiping aside the ash from the earth. Even now, here and there a tiny hint of green peeped through the chaotic aftermath. The grasslands were known for the hardy scrub that gave them their name. These plants had seen it all before, had weathered this storm and countless before it, and stubbornly persisted in scrambling for the sunlight before it could be outdone by any competition. It was not disaster. It was just part of life.

From her vantage point, Ishara wondered at what was said of the Drykas riders. They had a grid of sorts, this she knew in theory. Ah, what had Kedron told me? They felt the earth, the pulse of it, and from it drew answers and protection. It came as naturally as breathing to them... Or so it seemed. Ishara had traveled alongside one or two Drykas during her caravan journey to Riverfall. Their horsemanship skills were unmatched. Even her brothers, who grew up racing across the sands on their fiery desert-breds, were no match for these warriors.

Thoughts of her brothers plucked at the melancholy chords of her heart, and Ishara pushed such thoughts aside before she could begin to wonder when she might lay eyes on them again. A cold nose was thrust beneath her elbow, and she was abruptly reminded of why she was out here in the first place.

"Yes, Raj...We're here to work. For truth, this time..."

It was his first real hunt since his shoulder had been repaired. All that was left from the blade-wing attack was the ridge of a silvery scar across one shoulder, and the missing tip of one ear. A stroke of luck, that. Ishara had been cautioned against Raj overextending himself during his recovery, and so she'd fashioned a length of cord into a slip-lead to restrict his movement. After muscle and skin had re-knit themselves, exercise had been permitted in small doses only. The short runs he'd been participating in the weeks leading up until now had been rebuilding the strength in his limbs, a gradual process that could backfire if overdone. Ishara had perhaps been overly cautious...but as she stood and looked over the sleek silkena hound, she had the sense that it had all been worth it. This would be his first hunt since that day on the beach, and there was no doubting he was ready for it. And those little green shoots? The perfect bait for what was waiting for them somewhere out there.

Slipping his lead over his head, Ishara watched as Raj trotted out ahead, his long legs drifted over the earth and stirring up eddies of ash. His nose twitched, but it was his eyes that grew intense...scanning the slope ahead, mindful of the slightest flurry of motion. His stride lengthened into the stalking lope of a predator, and his pale frame drifted like a ghost across the landscape...

How many hunts had they been on, just like this? Memories played out in the back of her mind, conjured by the barren landscape that for once resembled something closer to home. Abyar would be at her family's tent at dawn, tempting Renej and Fen out with him on a hunt. Unwilling to be left behind, Ishara would scramble from her bed, throw on some of her most abused robes, and beg to go with them...

Abyar was always too nice to refuse, no matter how her brothers grumbled.

A sigh escaped her, and she raised her hand to shade her eyes against the glare of the rising sun, watching Raj's pale form streak across the hillside. He'd encountered a trail, of that there was no doubt, judging by the keen edge of his stare and rigid set to his ears. She could tell the moment he spotted the hare. His body lengthened into a stream-lined, sprinting machine, plumed tail flashing in the early sun as he tore across the earth. Her heart skipped a beat as she watched the wiry hare bolt, the white flash of it's backside flirting with Raj's instincts as it zipped one way, and then the next, it's erratic path designed to throw the sighthound off balance.

But Raj had been waiting for this.

Dogs are an expert in body language, and Raj was devouring every hint that the hare threw off. Muzzle set in something between a snarl and a grimace, the silkena anticipated the first dodge, missed the second, but managed to intercept the third with a lunge forward. The very tips of his toes connected with the hare's kicked-up back feet, sending the small mammal stumbling for control. For the briefest of moments, it seemed that the hare still clung to the advantage, trying one last swerve in an effort to outmaneuver the dog on it's heels.

But, Raj's jaws were quicker. He broke it's back in one, crushing snap, slinging the hare's body from side to side to ensure the job was good and finished. A cloud of ash sprang into the air around him, gilded by the sunlight pouring over the horizon. Ishara gave one long, piercing whistle...And Raj emerged, clutching the rabbit, his expression radiant with victory.

Ishara let loose a celebratory whoop, and jogged to meet him. The hound's triumphant grin shone from around the mouthful of hare, and she could not help but chuckle as Raj dropped the rabbit at her approach. "You perfect creature, you..." she murmured, a fond hand running over the panting canine's delicate features and tousling his feathered ears.

It was only a couple years since a hunt very much like this one, during which the weeks of training the young and very driven Raj had finally paid off. The day had started out uneventful, with a couple unsuccessful starts after a quick hare and some too-swift gazelle. Raj had not been following obediently with the other two older hunting silkenas by that time, much to Abyar's frustration, and instead had been nosing around scrubby desert brush in pursuit of a hare. Abyar had a distaste for the thick patches of desert scrub, for often snakes chose to shelter in the shade beneath the thorny bushes. He'd once lost a good hunter to a snake bite, and he wasn't keen on it happening again.

Surprising them all--perhaps most of all Raj himself--a hare had sprung up nearly right beneath his feet and bolted off, and Raj had streaked off after it. In moments, he'd made his first kill...and carried it back to Abyar just as he'd been bid.

The memory brought a smile to Ishara's lips, and she looped the leash back around her companion's neck. The hare was plucked from the ground to dangle by it's back feet from her hand, and she gripped the leash in the other. Raj was still panting pretty heavily, but the walk back to the gates would be enough to wind him down, no doubt...