Solo Bitter Hunt

[Colt]

24th of winter, 513 a.v
late morning

A bitter wind curled over the plains, snapping viciously at anything unwise enough to be outside in this cold. Shahar pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders, but it did little to protect him; winter was a cold time, no matter what measures were taken, and he was not fool enough to waste more energy for just a little bit of warmth.

The hunter was half-crouching, half-walking, scanning the flattened grass before him. It was recent, very recent; they had passed this way, and if the direction of the grass was anything to go by then they had been heading north. They hadn’t been in a hurry, that was for certain; the wind was going against them, so the hunter had little to worry about in regards to being detected.

Shahar closed his eyes to steady himself. He couldn’t afford to waste time here; he had to bring something down, and the sun was already high in her climb.

With a calming breath, Shahar drew on the magic around him. The grass was suddenly illuminated by shining threads woven between them, pulsing with power. Shahar reached for the nearest one, running his fingers gently across it to get a feel for where it went.

He whistled shrilly, and a nearby Akaidras raised his head.

Guard me, please, friend, Shahar said, giving his strider an affectionate smile before falling into the Web.

It was a strange feeling, being separated from his body. There was a rush, then a roar that was not made of sound, and then he was something else. For a few moments, Shahar could only be, adjusting to the jarring transition. He was no longer a person––at least, no longer his conception of a person. He was now Shahar, in his purest form, without flesh or bone or scar or any other things to get in the way.

The Web shivered around him and he clung to it like a spider, although he wasn’t quite a spider. He felt the wind, the grass, each of the little creatures as they went about their business, completely unaware of each other but inevitably woven together to forge the brilliant tapestry of the Sea of Grass. The Web wasn’t as loud here as it was in Endrykas; the vibrations were many, but here they were more… synchronized. They worked together, more random but somehow more meaningful than the loud vibrations of humans. It made a low, comforting cradle of movements that drew Shahar from his stupor. He was alright. The transition had been surprising, but this new world was a welcoming one.

[Colt]

Shahar rose from his rest and circled. He could feel his body below him––a strange thing to feel, to be sure––and beyond him he could feel Akaidras, strong and as closely woven with the Web as any Drykas. Shahar circled around his horse once, testing the unique set of vibrations that lay there. There was another thread, too, one that stood out in its familiarity; he saw his own thread intertwine with Akaidras, where they had moved together, and then their two threads leading into the distance like footprints to where they had come from.

It took a moment for Shahar to remember that he had come here to hunt. He returned to where his body lay, and then remembered the trail he had been following. There, he could see the trail of the herd now; the threads were brighter, higher in pitch, weaving together and around each other as the individual members of the herd wandered this way and that, but they were all going in the same direction. The threads were just as clear as any tracks, and he could see all of them. Twelve threads altogether, though four of them were a bit higher than the others. Shahar leaned close to these ones, then at the ground, trying to discover what might be the cause for such a difference. He narrowed his focus, then saw the tracks form before him. Ah, it was gender! The males had a higher pitch than the females, who were lower and more rumbly.

Shahar followed the trails, weaving between the threads as he saw where they had stopped, where they had rested, where they had eaten and who had been in the lead and in the rear. One of the bucks seemed to have a pronounced limp in his pace, since he went slower than the others and his line was more bumpy, matching perfectly to the uneven tracks Shahar had spotted in the world outside the Web.

Shahar could go so fast here! He followed the trail with the ease of a water droplet following a river, and with every stretch of grass he darted over the threads grew louder and more pronounced against the threads around them. Then, as he rounded a dip in the trail, he felt them.

[Colt]

Vibrations came off of the antelope like ripples, constant and rhythmic. They had stopped for a rest, though one or two remained vigilant at the outskirts of the herd.

Shahar approached cautiously, as if he might startle them away if he went too quickly. But in the Web he was silent and formless, and not one of them so much as twitched an ear in his direction. He wove between the members of the herd, basking in their thrumming. They were pleasant to the, er, sensation that he had in the Web, and prying himself away was a cruel and disappointing thing to do. He wanted to stay, wanted to listen to them, but there was no time. He needed to hunt, and he needed to hunt soon.

He followed the herd’s trail backwards, devouring the distance with a vengeance. The lure of the herd lessened as he drew farther, and then there was just the constant, pleasurable humming of the Sea of Grass.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before he happened once more upon the thick, clear vibration of Akaidras, who was still standing by his body. Shahar felt the pull of the physical as he neared the empty vessel, and it took a bit of effort to ease slowly back into the flesh and bone that he had left behind. Even so, the transition was jarring, and he awoke with a gasp. Akaidras snorted in surprise and pranced a step or two backwards.

The sun was painful to Shahar’s eyes, even through the clouds, and he had to blink for a few moments to adjust. Akaidras whickered curiously and stepped closer, bumping Shahar’s shoulder with his muzzle and earning himself a weak pat. Shahar sat up, rubbing his eyes, and took ahold of the stallion’s mane to make standing easier.

His limbs were a bit tingly, and he had to lean against the horse’s shoulder to steady himself, but it wasn’t really debilitating and he could already feel it fading. In less than a minute, the sensation was gone and barely remembered.

Akaidras sensed Shahar’s change in posture, and when the Drykas squared up the horse knew full well that the time for resting was at an end. Shahar hoisted himself into the yvas, and the stallion took a few steps to the left to adjust to the new weight. Shahar settled into his seat with a whisper.

“Come, friend. Run, on the wind, against the wind.”

He leaned forward, tightened his knees, and Akaidras slid into motion.

[Colt]

Akaidras did not know exactly what they were pursuing, but they were far enough away from their destination that it did not matter. Shahar let the stallion choose his own pace, which ended up as a speedy lope that was just shy of a full gallop. Shahar laced his fingers through the base of the beast’s mane, leaning forward in the yvas but otherwise letting Akaidras run as he willed, only giving the occasional nudge when their course strayed. Seeing the same land with his physical eyes was different, almost strange in contrast to seeing it in the Web. It was concrete now, no longer an endless sea of movement like ripples upon a pond’s surface. In the Web, the land sang with the movement of each creature, large and small, but outside all he could see was the earth and grass blurring as Akaidras devoured the distance. Even so, there was no time to think on it now; there were marks here and there that were familiar.

Shahar leaned back, signaling for Akaidras to slow. The horse threw his head in protest, but the lope became less urgent, then became a trot, then a quick walk, then stopped altogether. The horse’s breath was deep, but not labored; it would take more than a measly half-league to lather his hide. Shahar gave him an affectionate pat on the neck and slid to the ground.

The instant his boots touched the earth, the Drykas was cautious. He hadn’t been concerned with animals when he had entered the Web for the simple reason that they had still been in sighting distance of Endrykas, where no sane predator would hunt in broad daylight. Here, though, here was different; he knew full well that he could be in the territory of a glassbeak pack or a night lion pride, although he doubted either of them would want to forsake their day-time slumber for a single human. Still, this was a dangerous place, and he pulled his cloak up so he could crouch without it dragging along the ground. It wouldn’t do to alert anything, predator or prey.

He wanted to be over with this as quickly as possible.