First Day of Fall
Five Hundred and Twenty One Years After the Valterrian
Evening Time
“I can’t hunt with a fire going, can I?”
The man she was speaking to has three lines across his face. A scar.
“Uh,” he stared, scratching the bottom of the scar with one hand. “Sure you can.”
“Okay great. I was thinking I’d camp out longer this time,” she said, strapping herself. She needed to have all of what she needed for this longer trip, and didn’t want anything accidentally falling. Her simple outfit she’d had all her life: the boots, the skirt, her chest cinched up, and of course, the flute gun her father gave her.
She always brought needles with her. Nyctea figured it wouldn’t hurt to carry a weapon for when she shifted into her woman form. It was always easier to fly away from danger as a bird. As a woman, she never ran. She fought. With words, really.
She never had a reason to hurt someone physically in her woman form.
Protected by Kelvic rabbit parents since she was a child, Nyctea was fine as long as she wasn’t a bird.
Their lives tended to be shorter, but Nyctea made sure to take care of them in their old age. They, like herself, were citizens of Ravok.
They had a home.
She, however, chose a less ‘common’ life. A poor one, in fact.
More… nomadic.
“How long?” asked the man she was speaking to.
“Oh, long enough,” she grinned, all her teeth showing, at a meagre attempt to flirt. The man gave her a slight eyebrow quirk, and that was enough for her to give him a warm smile, immediately. “I just mean that I want to try making a fire this time, to stay out there in this form, you know?”
“Oh, I know,” said the man with a smirk. She was speaking to Holik, but she didn’t know it yet.
Holik, Purveyor of Goods, seems to be
Nyctea, however, has never met this man until today. On the first day of Fall, knowing core survival foods, Nyctea figured she would ask someone about getting a job as a Huntress.
“You do?” asked the woman, both brows raised. “Well if you do, then I want to sell you my game. Game that I wish to share with you, your men, and anyone else that are hungry. Is that good? Can we engage in trade? My game for your mizas?”
Holik narrowed his eyes. “Sure. I do, and it’s good. We can. Bring me any of your game, and you can have a job here at the North Ravok Outpost as a Huntress for five gold mizas per day. If you can prove to me that you’re competent, I’ll increase your income as a skill bonus. Sound like a fair wage?”
It was persuasive. “Sure,” said Nyctea. “Thank you, uh,” she paused.
“Holik. What’s your name?”
“Nyctea.”
“Nice to meet you, Nyctea.”
“Nice to meet you too, Holik.”
They smiled at each other. Then, after wishing each other a goodnight…
They were partners.
Five Hundred and Twenty One Years After the Valterrian
Evening Time
“I can’t hunt with a fire going, can I?”
The man she was speaking to has three lines across his face. A scar.
“Uh,” he stared, scratching the bottom of the scar with one hand. “Sure you can.”
“Okay great. I was thinking I’d camp out longer this time,” she said, strapping herself. She needed to have all of what she needed for this longer trip, and didn’t want anything accidentally falling. Her simple outfit she’d had all her life: the boots, the skirt, her chest cinched up, and of course, the flute gun her father gave her.
She always brought needles with her. Nyctea figured it wouldn’t hurt to carry a weapon for when she shifted into her woman form. It was always easier to fly away from danger as a bird. As a woman, she never ran. She fought. With words, really.
She never had a reason to hurt someone physically in her woman form.
Protected by Kelvic rabbit parents since she was a child, Nyctea was fine as long as she wasn’t a bird.
Their lives tended to be shorter, but Nyctea made sure to take care of them in their old age. They, like herself, were citizens of Ravok.
They had a home.
She, however, chose a less ‘common’ life. A poor one, in fact.
More… nomadic.
“How long?” asked the man she was speaking to.
“Oh, long enough,” she grinned, all her teeth showing, at a meagre attempt to flirt. The man gave her a slight eyebrow quirk, and that was enough for her to give him a warm smile, immediately. “I just mean that I want to try making a fire this time, to stay out there in this form, you know?”
“Oh, I know,” said the man with a smirk. She was speaking to Holik, but she didn’t know it yet.
Holik, Purveyor of Goods, seems to be
an intermediary between the Ebonstryfe of the Outpost and outsiders who would engage in trade; official or otherwise. He is a smooth, soft-spoken man of Nitrozian blood with short brown hair and dark brown eyes. The left side of his face sports three rather prominent scars resembling those created by the claws of some large animal. If asked, he is happy to reveal what made the scars although the story changes with every telling. Those who have regular dealings with Holik, describe him as being a slick businessman driven by the thought of closing a good deal.
Nyctea, however, has never met this man until today. On the first day of Fall, knowing core survival foods, Nyctea figured she would ask someone about getting a job as a Huntress.
“You do?” asked the woman, both brows raised. “Well if you do, then I want to sell you my game. Game that I wish to share with you, your men, and anyone else that are hungry. Is that good? Can we engage in trade? My game for your mizas?”
Holik narrowed his eyes. “Sure. I do, and it’s good. We can. Bring me any of your game, and you can have a job here at the North Ravok Outpost as a Huntress for five gold mizas per day. If you can prove to me that you’re competent, I’ll increase your income as a skill bonus. Sound like a fair wage?”
It was persuasive. “Sure,” said Nyctea. “Thank you, uh,” she paused.
“Holik. What’s your name?”
“Nyctea.”
“Nice to meet you, Nyctea.”
“Nice to meet you too, Holik.”
They smiled at each other. Then, after wishing each other a goodnight…
They were partners.
