Solo [The Bronze Woods] Day on the Job.

[Medhozic]

Day 61 of Winter, 513AV. There had been many times that he had hunted in the woods. In the short time that he'd stayed in Syliras, it was an undeniable fact. However, this was the first time that he'd gone out with the intent to hunt for hide and meat that he could sell, rather than to simply feed himself. It seemed like a foreign concept, really - why did he have to go out and sell it to the merchants for money, and then use this money to then buy the weapons and the equipment that he needed. He was quite sure that the men at the Feathered Shaft would need food to survive, and if they could have venison, they probably would. It'd be much cheaper for them, and he wouldn't mind going out and taking some more. It took some time, it took some effort.. but it was an enjoyable activity for him. Which was probably why he found himself out here in the first place. Bow drawn, limbs horizontal and an arrow stretching the bowstring back firmly, he slowly sighed an outward breath and consciously checked everything was in order. Legs, slightly bent for stability.. bow drawn back with enough to send the arrow, but not too much. And then.. release, straight into the tree. But below the target he'd carved in. Yet again. Petch. Perhaps he needed to get into the mindset of using more power - it always seemed that no matter how much he put into the bow, however, it always fell a little short. Surely it couldn't be that far to the target, that he'd need to bend the bow to nearly breaking point. He usually managed to get small game by lifting the bow up, but faced with a target, he wasn't sure. The arrows always dipped lower, so they'd hit the body of the animal, but not the target. No matter.. he'd try again, and with a scowl, he drew a second arrow from its place and pulled it back until it stretched the bowstring like before. Only this time, he pulled it back farther.. and farther, until he was quite worried that the bow would simply snap by the tension that he could see along the wood. His arm was struggling to just keep the arrow in place, let alone to prepare to aim.. but he tried anyway, and then released it all at once. It worked much better than expected, striking actually on the target for once.. although only on the outer ring, and barely. Oh well.. it showed some improvement at least. He was beginning to get the hang of it, although he probably should have tried a few more times before heading out.

[Medhozic]

He stepped over, plucked the two arrows from their respective places, and sighed softly. It was time to get to work - after all, food needed to be eaten, whether by him or by others really didn't matter. What mattered was finding it in all the damn snow.. and by Syna, there was a lot of it. No matter where he looked, it covered the trees in thick white blankets and the ground was pristine shades of white as far as the eye could see. It'd be impossible to find any game amongst it all, since there'd hardly be any food.. but as he began to walk deeper into the woods, searching for any signs of life, he found that he might actually be very far from right almost immediately. Everywhere he looked, there were prints imbedded in the snow, signs of life and passing in the trees.. it was if a whole herd of deer, and boar, and rabbits, and every other creature that he could name had all grouped together and gone on a little hiking trip. But there were none to be seen.. none at all. Seemed that the snow was retaining all of the tracks.. which meant good news and plenty of meat. He could literally go through them all and pick out whichever one he wished. So he did - crouching down and passing over every set of tracks that he could find. Some were exceptionally small, and he ignored them in favour of the larger, rounder ones... deer had hooves, didn't they? So that's what he wanted.. the rounded prints in the snow, leading off into the west.. which meant that was where he was going. Immediately, he hooked the bow around his back so that the drawstring pushed against his chest and kept the shortbow secured, before setting off after the tracks, keeping a close eye to them and the surroundings.. although he doubted it would be difficult to see any deer if they did show up. No cover.. no bushes to hide behind, trees to blend into.. nothing. Just fields of white, everywhere, punctuated by spindly grey trees that looked more like skeletons, and flimsy little sticks that would probably make more noise than they should have. Of course, if he could see the deer, then the deer would also be able to see him.. and he had no camouflage gear to blend into the surroundings. Even if he did, it'd be useless unless it was specific to the snow.