86th of fall, 515 a.v.
early afternoon
The world was white.
The frost of days past had been threatening enough, particularly the early-season snap that had dried up the zibri cows before anyone had had a chance to prepare; Morwen was sending forth her breath as a warning, and each breeze told the tale of a cold winter getting ready to move in.
It had snowed the night before, for the second time this season, and this time the snow had remained. While the sky was now only somewhat cloudy and not spewing forth soft white clumps of frost, Shahar was well aware of the fact that this snow was here to stay; fall was coming to its end, and the bounty of the season would soon disappear under a thick layer of white.
But there was another Snow that had his attention, too.
She frolicked ahead of him, overtaken with endless wonder at this cold material blanketing the ground; she had never seen such a thing before, and it filled her with elated desire to explore. She leaped and rolled in the stuff, and Shahar was startled to discover that he had severe difficult tracking her with his eyes; she disappeared into her surroundings as if by magic, looking like a bit of the ground itself had decided to stand up and run about.
Akaidras and Tuka were both unimpressed with the she-wolf’s antics, and they went about their tasks with relative professionalism; the elk had undoubtedly gone this way, and their numbers had swelled since the party had begun tracking them. Another herd had joined forces, and they moved close to one another to keep warm; winter pelts were not in full growth yet, and elk did not have Shahar’s luxury of tunic and cloak and heavy sheepskin vest, and even he was cold. His winter clothing was worn, and he would need to replace some of the items before the watchtower flared.
As it was, though, he was in perfectly able condition to continue following the herd of elk, as they had left a very clear trail in the fresh snowfall. Tuka followed them with her nose to the ground, although such a thing was hardly necessary, while Snow eventually ceased her playing and trotted back to Shahar’s side, bringing up the right flank while Tuka brought up the left.
Snow was getting bigger. Her puppy fat was slowly but surely disappearing into half-formed muscle and tendon that would continued to harden as seasons passed; she grew a bit slower than most dogs Shahar was accustomed to, but was surely approaching at least a year of age by now. She was three and a half feet at the shoulder now, well over Shahar’s hip if they were standing next to one another. He no longer had to bend to touch her head; she was undoubtedly massive. Some of the other hunters looked at her differently now, and they looked at him differently, too, and when they didn’t know he was listening he could hear uneasy grumbles of “dire wolf.” When she sat at his feet at the Hunter’s Allegiance, he was given a wide berth and more than a few wary glances.
But in the wilderness, Snow was growing stronger by the day. Excitable clumsiness of puppyhood was rapidly giving way to the outward desire to learn that accompanied adolescence; she experimented on her own and asked more questions of her partner, sometimes even figuring out her own answers before Shahar even had to respond. Every day was a series of lessons, for both teacher and student; while Shahar could provide her with the nuances between this species and that one or what a certain creature did to find food, Snow was also discovering her own powers of observation; her ears and nose were on constant alert, she would fall into formation to herd their prey without needing to be asked, and she was beginning to learn the method of planning rather than simply obeying Shahar’s instructions.
She was becoming a hunter in her own right, and Shahar couldn’t have been more proud.
They weren’t far from the herd, and Shahar felt little need to hide their approach. Snow was the only one of the four that had any chance of camouflage, and that was something she intended to make full use of.
He could see them in the distance, a dark line on an otherwise pale horizon. Packed together against cold and danger, they wouldn’t run unless they had to––Shahar could approach them enough to gain a better idea of what it was he wanted to do.
Need information, he said to Snow. Circle them, see what find.
Snow agreed, and then split away from the darker hunters at a slow, even lope to cut a wide circle around the herd. Shahar led the other two opposite of her, coming to outline their other side; between the two of them, they would be able to spot any flaws in the herd’s outskirts, and would also make them uneasy enough to get ready to move, but not so uneasy as to provoke them into running prematurely. Their next task was reconnaissance, and it was one they both took to with familiar ease.
early afternoon
The world was white.
The frost of days past had been threatening enough, particularly the early-season snap that had dried up the zibri cows before anyone had had a chance to prepare; Morwen was sending forth her breath as a warning, and each breeze told the tale of a cold winter getting ready to move in.
It had snowed the night before, for the second time this season, and this time the snow had remained. While the sky was now only somewhat cloudy and not spewing forth soft white clumps of frost, Shahar was well aware of the fact that this snow was here to stay; fall was coming to its end, and the bounty of the season would soon disappear under a thick layer of white.
But there was another Snow that had his attention, too.
She frolicked ahead of him, overtaken with endless wonder at this cold material blanketing the ground; she had never seen such a thing before, and it filled her with elated desire to explore. She leaped and rolled in the stuff, and Shahar was startled to discover that he had severe difficult tracking her with his eyes; she disappeared into her surroundings as if by magic, looking like a bit of the ground itself had decided to stand up and run about.
Akaidras and Tuka were both unimpressed with the she-wolf’s antics, and they went about their tasks with relative professionalism; the elk had undoubtedly gone this way, and their numbers had swelled since the party had begun tracking them. Another herd had joined forces, and they moved close to one another to keep warm; winter pelts were not in full growth yet, and elk did not have Shahar’s luxury of tunic and cloak and heavy sheepskin vest, and even he was cold. His winter clothing was worn, and he would need to replace some of the items before the watchtower flared.
As it was, though, he was in perfectly able condition to continue following the herd of elk, as they had left a very clear trail in the fresh snowfall. Tuka followed them with her nose to the ground, although such a thing was hardly necessary, while Snow eventually ceased her playing and trotted back to Shahar’s side, bringing up the right flank while Tuka brought up the left.
Snow was getting bigger. Her puppy fat was slowly but surely disappearing into half-formed muscle and tendon that would continued to harden as seasons passed; she grew a bit slower than most dogs Shahar was accustomed to, but was surely approaching at least a year of age by now. She was three and a half feet at the shoulder now, well over Shahar’s hip if they were standing next to one another. He no longer had to bend to touch her head; she was undoubtedly massive. Some of the other hunters looked at her differently now, and they looked at him differently, too, and when they didn’t know he was listening he could hear uneasy grumbles of “dire wolf.” When she sat at his feet at the Hunter’s Allegiance, he was given a wide berth and more than a few wary glances.
But in the wilderness, Snow was growing stronger by the day. Excitable clumsiness of puppyhood was rapidly giving way to the outward desire to learn that accompanied adolescence; she experimented on her own and asked more questions of her partner, sometimes even figuring out her own answers before Shahar even had to respond. Every day was a series of lessons, for both teacher and student; while Shahar could provide her with the nuances between this species and that one or what a certain creature did to find food, Snow was also discovering her own powers of observation; her ears and nose were on constant alert, she would fall into formation to herd their prey without needing to be asked, and she was beginning to learn the method of planning rather than simply obeying Shahar’s instructions.
She was becoming a hunter in her own right, and Shahar couldn’t have been more proud.
They weren’t far from the herd, and Shahar felt little need to hide their approach. Snow was the only one of the four that had any chance of camouflage, and that was something she intended to make full use of.
He could see them in the distance, a dark line on an otherwise pale horizon. Packed together against cold and danger, they wouldn’t run unless they had to––Shahar could approach them enough to gain a better idea of what it was he wanted to do.
Need information, he said to Snow. Circle them, see what find.
Snow agreed, and then split away from the darker hunters at a slow, even lope to cut a wide circle around the herd. Shahar led the other two opposite of her, coming to outline their other side; between the two of them, they would be able to spot any flaws in the herd’s outskirts, and would also make them uneasy enough to get ready to move, but not so uneasy as to provoke them into running prematurely. Their next task was reconnaissance, and it was one they both took to with familiar ease.