Solo Same Task, Different Method

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Not found on any map, Endrykas is a large migrating tent city wherein the horseclans of Cyphrus gather to trade and exchange information. [Lore]

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Same Task, Different Method

Postby Khida on August 30th, 2016, 2:28 am

Summer 64, 516 AV
dawn

Even with Syna yet below the horizon, pale silver in the east heralding her impending ascension, the air weighed heavy on Khida's skin in a manner which spoke of heat to come. Like yesterday, and several days before that; the kind of day that as it matured made her feel more akin to the dry grasses, bowed and weary, than the Kelvic was normally wont to be. It was not a day where she wished to do anything of note during Syna's height; and so it was even before the sun that Khida rose and extricated herself from the tent, Sephra's gear slung over one shoulder.

The Strider in question, catching sight of her rider's burden, turned towards the Kelvic with ears perked in what Khida took to be curiosity; certainly, curiosity would be justified. If left to her own devices, Khida always checked traps first in the day... and still only rode her horse on that errand if the horse herself compelled. Coming to a stop before Sephra, Khida lowered the tack to the ground -- and set her bow case and quiver beside it. Greeting, good morning, she cast to her Strider, and the other members of the herd scattered about the nearby grass. I ride, we hunt, query? she added to her own Strider alone, following with a sweep of her hand to indicate tack and bow alike.

Sephra stepped forward and leaned in to have her neck and head scratched, whuffing at Khida's hair. It seemed a positive enough action to pass for affirmation, so once she'd given the mare sufficient attention, Khida set about gearing her up. Yvas pad. Girth. Breast band. The bow in its case, she bound to the left side of the yvas; the quiver, to the right. It seemed to make the most sense that way, because -- in principle -- she'd need to get into the quiver often, and the bow case rarely.

Well accustomed to this process at least, her horse stood stock-still as Khida buckled the yvas straps down, and only shook herself briefly when the Kelvic requested her opinion on the fit. It seemed like a settling-in shake, not a discontented shake; also supported by the fact that the mare didn't sidle away when Khida moved to mount. Khida was getting better at that part, too; she didn't need a helpful rock for boost anymore, and if she still took a lengthy moment to gather herself before committing to the leap up, at least the leap itself was becoming a reasonably smooth and assured action.

It also took a deliberate effort for Khida to relax into the yvas, laying her forearms across her thighs rather than gripping the handles, keeping her back straight instead of hunching down, and most of all not hugging Sephra's sides with her knees. The mare seemed to relax beneath her even as the rider measured her own breathing and paid attention to how her weight settled into the seat. Relaxed but also secure was the goal, and it still didn't come naturally -- but that it came at all was good progress.

Khida also took a moment to test how readily her bow slid in and out of its case on the one side, and how easily arrows came to hand on the other. She didn't really plan to shoot from horseback as such -- certainly not if the horse was moving... -- but it was good to have the option. Prey did not act by the hunter's convenience. And if she found nothing to shoot at all... well, she had traps to check, and new ones to place, which should at least yield something.

Forward, Khida thought, and right, letting her body reflect the desire to move in those directions; she sat forward, seat lifting up slightly, and pressed in with her right leg, weight shifting to balance. Simple directives, easy even for the novice rider to communicate; Sephra obliged her readily, removing them from the camp at a steady walk, coming about to point their route south -- towards the area Endrykas had yet to enter, where game might be at least marginally easier to find.
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Same Task, Different Method

Postby Khida on September 6th, 2016, 7:49 pm

From her vantage point atop her Strider's back, Khida observed other hunters with similar thoughts to her own; one male and female pair, another alone save for the horse he rode. Some had, perhaps, departed before; others would come behind. In silent, automatic consensus, the three parties divided the southern expanse between them, each embarking upon a different course; they would not work together, but neither would any seek to succeed at cost of their fellows' immediate detriment.

Fingers and toes, Khida thought, recalling a conversation she had once had with another hunter. The memory bubbled briefly to the surface, only to be dispelled as her horse broke into a faster pace, distinct hoofbeats melding into a two-beat cadence. Bouncing in the yvas, the Kelvic took a firm grip on its handles while trying to keep her legs from the reflexive clutch they wanted to make on Sephra's sides. It was a few ticks before the horse slowed again, two beats returning to four; one ear flicked back and Sephra tossed her head in what may have been a prompt. Or chide. Or...

...something, anyway. Some days, Khida was quite certain she would never come to understand the Strider.

She took a deep breath as the horse walked on, a second breath, and another; all helping to collect her sense of self at her core. Weight. Balance. Stability. With that gathering came a sort of relaxation that was also preparation, her awareness cleared, waiting to receive input and respond to it. The same kind of waiting as when the falcon flew above a flock of pigeons, seeking the opportune moment to strike; or, just sometimes, when she sighted down an arrow shaft before sinking its point gratifyingly close to her target.

Centered, collected, Khida let her weight shift forward, signaling to Sephra that she was willing to try the faster gait again. Her Strider obliged with alacrity; something the Kelvic in short order thought she might regret, as it didn't seem to be just her own perception that the horse bounced every time a pair of hooves hit the ground. The impacts jolted Khida's tailbones and echoed up her spine in a way that wasn't going to be tolerable at all.

She couldn't imagine her horse appreciated it, either.

A few iterations of trial-and-error taught Khida that she could keep her posture elevated, her seat clear of the yvas for the most part and therefore out of the way of Sephra's movements. That effort built to a strain quite quickly, however -- for all that she had once heard Striders referred to as the Drykas' wings, riding them shared little with the act of flying, save the speed of their motion. It was bare chimes before Khida let herself sink back down into the yvas, sitting back in unspoken request for the horse to slow -- which Sephra did, with gratefully little hesitation.

Riding, it seemed, shared that much in common with using the bow: it would take time for her to grow accustomed to the effort it required.
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Same Task, Different Method

Postby Khida on September 15th, 2016, 2:20 am

Time, she had in perceived abundance as the Strider ambled through the grasses -- all the time that it took for them to put enough space between them and the city's bustle that the hunter might reasonably expect to find prey. Less time than Khida might have if she walked on her own two feet, yet more than they would have moving at the pace she typically observed of Drykas ahorse. Time for her to spend listening, in the context that was really feeling: feeling how the horse moved, how she the rider did or did not move; feeling what went together, in something of the same manner as when she was extracting a sense of meaning from a spate of Pavi words.

It wasn't knowledge that the Kelvic sought to extract from her experience of riding; not knowledge measured in the coin of words, not the knowledge that defined and codified and constrained. She didn't have the words for the parts of the horse, the gaits Sephra moved by, the postures of the rider or the definitions of aids and cues; in the here and now, with only herself and the horse to consider, Khida did not miss them. She did not need labels, but only an immersion in what was, an understanding etched deeper in muscle and bone and experience, in being, than she had ever known words to capture.

What Khida felt was each distinct motion of the horse beneath her -- each hoof striking the ground in turn, one fore before the opposite hind. There was a slight natural sway which, provided she relaxed enough, communicated itself into her hips and spine; the horse's body also exerted pressure against her legs in an alternation that corresponded with which feet were in motion. It was really quite a lot to listen to, to experience, to be; the simple act of walking was more complicated than she was normally wont to give it credit for.

Especially when it was someone else's too-many feet doing the walking.

The Kelvic did not try to decipher her Strider's motion; it was not a puzzle to be dissected and solved. She simply took it all in, the way the falcon might bask in sunlight or soar on a summer thermal; the way she could do now, having come to understand riding as more than the act of sitting atop a self-motivated and, however beloved, potentially capricious thing. But eventually, the time for listening passed, and she shook herself free of that focus, letting the whole of her attention range outwards instead. That Khida's change in focus communicated to her horse was not deliberate, yet also inevitable; Sephra ceased moving altogether, taking the opportunity to crop at the yet-green grasses while her rider contemplated the best of other opportunities to be had in their surroundings.

Now was the time for finding prey.
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Same Task, Different Method

Postby Khida on September 29th, 2016, 2:14 am

The bow meant hunting things other than her usual prey -- rabbits, rodents, and the smaller birds would all be downright impossible for Khida to hit. Larger birds, pheasants and geese and the grass-grouse; those she might be able to strike with an arrow. But most likely, she would need to find a grazer, something along the lines of an antelope or deer. Preferably not one too large.

A fold in the landscape suggested the presence of water, or at least a direction in which it might be found; Khida sat forward, and even as her head tipped in that direction, so did her body shift to promote motion. The Strider left off her eating and willingly set off for the depression.

The gully itself was dry, but the pair traveled alongside it for a time, until it met up with others to form a broader pool. Or what might have been a pool, in times other than the height of summer; just now she could see only verdant brush and a couple of scrubby trees. They, at least, hinted at moisture below the surface... and a modicum of shelter for creatures both lesser and greater.

Slowly, Khida directed her Strider around the depression and the brush which filled it, briefly appreciative of her vantage. She made sure to keep a broad margin between them and the shrubbery. It was early enough there might still be grazers sleeping beneath the foliage; whether they slept or not, if they were there at all, she didn't desire to spook them right off...

... but by the time they'd completed their circuit, Khida could only conclude there were no grazers in the vicinity at all.

Such was fortune. She took a moment to scratch the Strider's neck, below her ears, then directed the horse on downstream. There would be more water, somewhere; and there would be something drinking from it. Hopefully, a something worth eating.

Chimes passed while they walked, the sun creeping up the dome of the sky. Eventually, they found another place where gullies met, trickles of water feeding a shallow pool. The pool itself was small, its bounds unremarkable, unattended by anything large enough to merit notice. But at a moderate distance, dark shapes disrupted the grass -- shapes large enough and scattered in a way that suggested a herd of grazers.

Prey she could hunt, at last.

Most were only slightly darker than the browning grass about them; a handful seemed nearly black, horns jutting up at angles from their heads. Mostly females, Khida inferred, with a few males intermixed. If there were foals, she could not distinguish them in the distance; but in summer, where there were females, there would likely be young.

All would be vigilant. She could not simply forge ahead and hope to shoot whatever came nearest. Yet it was there that Khida's grasp of strategy went lacking; it was not she who should be concerned with approach and cover, not she who belonged on the ground, creeping ever closer until opportunity arrived. That was not her job; she belonged in the sky, watching, guiding, providing fatal distraction to their chosen prey.

Oh, how she wished he were here!
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Same Task, Different Method

Postby Khida on October 28th, 2016, 3:31 am

The horse waited while Khida studied the situation, filling her time by idly cropping at the grasses around them. The rider withdrew her bow from its case, realizing -- altogether late -- that she should have strung it before packing it away. As it was, she had to dismount to amend the issue; stringing the composite bow was a full-body affair. Lesson learned; she would do better next time.

Remounted, bow in hand a focus to her thoughts, the hunter returned to studying her quarry. She needed a likely target. Something slower, weaker, less attentive than its companions. Or even simply young, perhaps a calf or yearling still convinced of its own impunity, not yet fully educated in caution. Most of the herd was arranged in bunches, ahead and to her right. Those who clumped together would run together, like birds in a flock; that much, both avians and ungulates shared. They would also have more senses, collectively, with which to take alarm at her approach. So all clumps were... less than optimal targets.

That left the stragglers, of which there were a few. Some of them were highly attentive, more so than the grazers in clumps; without the safety of numbers about them, they spent more time watching and less eating. There were a couple of females that dedicated their time more to eating and less to observing, however; and these, Khida thought, would be her best targets.

Her weight shifted forward, and a little left, without Khida's conscious direction; fixated on her quarry, she haven't even thought yet about cueing the horse, and so Sephra's resumption of motion caught her rider quite by surprise. One hand went to the yvas for support, while the other clutched resolutely to her bow; several strides passed before Khida breathed out relaxation again, and returned her focus to the herd.

Some of the antelope had started taking an interest in the horse -- or so she inferred from pointing noses and perked ears. Khida let the horse continue to set her own pace; more correctly, she made no attempt to hurry the Strider, both for her own peace of mind as an inexperienced rider and in the hope that a casual approach would be largely ignored by the grazers. One more grazer among many... surely there was no cause for alarm here.

Except the antelope disagreed. Even she could see that, read it in the growing rigidity of their postures, the way they spent more and more time watching and ever-less time grazing. Khida sat back, not wanting to spook them into flight; Sephra obligingly paused. It was the bunches that seemed most on-edge, tension likely communicating from one to another. That, too, was similar to a flock of birds. Perhaps she could still draw near to one of the stragglers, as she had planned...

Did the horse alarm them? Surely not. She had seen wild horses graze beside antelope throughout the Sea, times beyond counting. But this was one horse, not a herd; and this horse carried a rider. Was that enough to make the difference?

She had not wanted to shoot from horseback, anyway. Khida slid back down to the ground, stepping around the horse to pull three arrows from her quiver. She didn't expect to use them all -- truthfully, she didn't expect to have a chance to shoot more than one -- but it was better to be prepared than not. Then the Kelvic ducked back to put Sephra's bulk between herself and the greater part of the antelope herd. Deprived of the horse's added height, she could hardly see over the grass, and chafed at that fact; but, knowing where to look, she could just make out the shape of one of her potential targets. Her definite target, now.

Bracing her feet, letting her eyes rest and her ears stretch for the sounds of the surrounding grasses, Khida settled in to wait.
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Same Task, Different Method

Postby Khida on December 8th, 2016, 8:46 am

Ticks stretched into chimes, which in turn stretched into a significant fraction of a bell. Exactly how much, Khida could not have said if asked; long enough for Sephra to graze a while, long enough that she might expect the antelope to have grown accustomed to the horse's presence. To have forgotten the horse's rider, from their perspective now vanished into the grass.

Out of sight, out of mind. Hopefully.

Khida gently tapped her Strider's shoulder, overtly drawing the horse's attention. We go, she signed, then swept her hand forward in the direction of the antelope. That way.

The horse nipped at Khida's hair, almost as if she were some of the grasses. What the action signified, if anything, the Kelvic had no idea. But afterwards, the horse did indeed begin to amble forwards, snatching up mouthfuls of grass as she went.

Their progress was unhurried, the horse setting their pace, and it was anything but stealthy; the Strider's bulk simply could not pass through the stalks without rattling them, and her head rose above their concealing screen, to boot. But Khida was not so tall, and compared to the horse, her passage had distinctly lesser impact -- little enough, she hoped, that she might remain unnoticed by her quarry, her approach masked by her less-threatening companion.

It wasn't stealthy, but it was sneaky... and worth a try.

All the while, Khida kept an eye on the indistinct shape of her target; gradually, it resolved from a solid splotch glimpsed through the grasses to a distinctly cervine profile with large ears and narrow snout. As they approached, it grazed less and grew warier, evidenced by how long its head remained raised where she could see it. Khida signaled for the horse to slow, then wait, hoping a pause would salve her quarry's nerves.

Not to mention the rest of the herd; if one was concerned, they would all be. All it would take to spook the lot of them was one individual, any individual, whose anxiety grew too great to contain. She could wait. She would wait as long as it took for the beasts to relax.

The horse grazed. The antelope... watched. Grazed. Watched some more. Khida also watched, gauged distances, evaluated the temper of the wind in the motion of the grasses. Of which there wasn't much to speak of. At any range she could successfully aim over, she thought the breeze would do little to affect her shot.

Range was the problem. Even at fifty yards, her aim was... problematic. Thirty would have been better. But how close could she risk attempting to get? How close would the antelope allow an unfamiliar, unrelated creature to come? Khida felt she was on the verge of pushing her luck already... much farther, and the antelope might spook.

She'd just have to attempt the shot.
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Same Task, Different Method

Postby Khida on December 9th, 2016, 7:58 am

All she could discern of the antelope was its head. Not a good target; heads were small, and hard. She couldn't expect the arrow to drive through bone, nor to hit an eye. Fortunately, it was a simple matter to extrapolate the position and profile of the antelope's body; bodies followed directly from heads. She would have to shoot through the grasses, but what experience she had indicated they would do little to disturb the arrow's flight. If anything, the stalks might help, providing some meager defense against passing vagaries of the air.

So if the antelope's head was here... and it angled somewhat away from her... her arrow might catch it behind the ribs if she aimed there. Behind the ribs would be good, striking into vital organs unprotected by bone. At the very least, she could expect such a hit to disable the beast, if not to be mortal in its own right.

But she would not dwell on that, would not anticipate, would not hope. She could not afford the distraction.

Nocking an arrow to her bow, drawing it back until the feathers tickled her cheek, finger resting ever so lightly against her chin... she breathed... envisioned her quarry, saw the arrow's flight, the strike she wished it to make... let only that occupy her mind... exhaled...

...and released.

For the space of an eyeblink, the grasses hummed with the arrow's passage. Then the whole plain burst into riotous motion, the entire herd of antelope picking itself up and bounding away from a threat revealed. Bodies crashed through the stalks, collectively heading anywhere but here; bleats of alarm passed back and forth between the creatures, ratcheting their anxiety ever-higher... until it was gone. Sephra stood, looking less than settled herself, and Khida, and they might have been the only creatures left in the region.

Holding on to a thread of optimism, but only a thread, Khida struck forward in the direction her arrow had flown.

And walked.

And continued walking.

And found no body fallen, no blood on the ground, no signs of adverse event whatsoever. The bubble of optimism popped; in its place, suspicion sank, reading absence as evidence of a miss. She kept on, and soon enough found true evidence: her arrow, its energy spent, lying adrift on the ground.

Picking it up, Khida found a trace of blood on the tip -- she hadn't completely missed, then. That counted for something. Perhaps she had not injured it enough to take it down, and they could catch up to her quarry, find it weakened. Cleaning off the missile and putting it away, the Kelvic doubled back, the better to examine more closely that space where the antelope had been.

There were no clear prints in the earth, dry as summer had made the soil, but there were divots in the grasses where its hooves had weighed them down. Here it had stood, grazing, all the while that she and her Strider had made their approach. It had been facing mostly away from her, and the ruckus of the departing herd had faded in the same direction, so it was reasonable to expect that was where her quarry had also fled. Khida turned and followed, moving slowly, scanning ground and grasses alike... yes, here were broken stalks where it had crashed through, and there was the flattening mark of one hoof... and another.

Still no sign of blood. No evidence of serious injury. Had she only nicked the beast's skin?

It wasn't much longer before the trail of her quarry caught up with those of its herdmates, and she lost the ability to follow its specific progress. Frustrated, Khida retreated to where her Strider waited, trading clothes for feathers and taking the high road as a surer route to solving her questions. The antelope had not run so far as to evade the falcon, and when she overflew them, they cared nothing for the passage of the small raptor, seeing no hazard in its presence. It took three passes before she finally picked out her beast from the group, and even then, only because it was made distinctive by a slender reddish line on its shoulder: the track of her arrow.

Indeed, she had hardly damaged it at all.

And now the herd was wary, alert to hunter and horse alike. She would not be able to approach so close again.

Disappointed, Khida once more returned to her waiting Strider, the horse interrupting her grazing to welcome her rider. The morning was now well along, but perhaps they could find another herd, another opportunity, before the day's height sent most grazers to rest. Picking a direction that put the antelope at their back, Khida directed her horse back into motion, off to seek her second chance.

Some days, luck favored the hunter. Today, perhaps, was not one of them.

Or maybe she just should have stuck with methods tried and true.
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Same Task, Different Method

Postby Rufio on January 15th, 2017, 11:21 am

Image
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
g r a d e s


xp

Organization +1
Horsemanship +1
Riding, Horse +3
Meditation +1
Bodybuilding +1
Intelligence +3
Weapon, Shortbow +2
Hunting +2
Subterfuge +1
Tracking +1



lores

Riding, Horse: a relaxed & secure seat
Riding, Horse: posting the trot
Riding, Horse: being one
Wilderness Survival, Plains: trees means water nearby
Planning: string a bow before hunting
Weapon, Shortbow Composite: stringing a bow
Archery: gauging wind & range for accuracy
Cyphrus Fauna, Antelope: foals are abundant in Summer
Hunting: prey is unpredictable
Hunting: Antelope
Hunting: choosing prey from a herd
Hunting: waiting as long as it takes
Subterfuge: sneaking up on a target disguised behind a horse
Weapon, Shortbow Composite: 'see' the arrow's flight
Luck is a whimsical thing for hunters


  
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