A Winter's Gift (open, Katshika Falls)

by **Shayth** on February 6th, 2011, 2:36 am

15th Day of Winter, midday.

It was bitingly cold in Windreach, the snow and the howling blizzard forcing the eagles to stay in their airies and tempers to flare. Shayth had spent the past few days reflecting on her argument with Kovac. It was still raw, real and something strange to adjust to. Turiska snarled about it whenever she spoke, which was very little. The eagle was dissapointed that the fight had turned into what it had. In her eyes, it was yet another lost battle against the avora for Shayth's attentions.

Unable to take anymore time locked in the same room as the bird, Shayth took her leave. Kovac was not about, much to her dissapointment. Taking her bow and arrow, and dressed in her usual black outfit with a thick fur wrapped around her shoulders, the endal left in a lull of the storm. Walking through the Reach, the redhead made her way down, leaving the commons and heading towards the path that led down to the gates of the city. Snow crunched under her boots and steam billowed from her mouth. As she passd under the gates, Shayth looked up. The sky was black with thick clouds and the air was misty. Although it was noon, there was not a sign of the sun. Pulling the fur closer, she trunched onwards. occasionally the wind would gust bitterly, whipping her thick red hair about her face.

It was a good walk, calming her temper and clearing her head. By the time she'd reached the falls, Shayth felt warmer from the walk and the lower height. Walking over the bridge, the rider looked down at the Sanikas River. Even in this freezing cold, the river still flowed, a testimant to its hidden fury. Behind her, the fall had frozen, a captured glittering living statue.

Heading across the bridge, Shayth picked her way down the rocky outcrops, till she stood beside the river itself. It was a good location, a source of water for local wild life in the calm of the storm. Even as she took off her bow, the rider could see little ptmartigans, dressed in their winter coats and hiding in the snow covered brush. Further still, into the sparse branches of a small glade, there were rabbits and other small mammals. Setting an arrow in her bow, the rider scanned the area for a suitable target. Game was tempting, but she was still learning.

There, a broken tree stump. The snow softened wood would take an arrow easily. Standing as Kovac had shown her, the woman drew her arrow, breathing focused. Letting it fly, the arrow hit the stump with a thunk, but didn't stick.

"Damn it!" She swore sharply, drawing another arrow.

by **Yarrin** on February 6th, 2011, 3:57 am

Birds took flight at the Endal’s shout, scattering with startled noises. Just as the last one began leave the ground, however, there was a twang from beneath them. Something snapped—a snare—and spray of snow concealed the whole flock from view for a moment. A handful got away, lucky little puffs of white. Angry calls announced a fair number of them had been caught, trapped in a hand-woven net and pinned to the ground.

Their noises immediately set into motion a number of things. Game scattered. A tiny bell twinkled. And a pair of falcons took flight from the brush near where the snare was sprung.

Shayth was left with a few minutes of nothing but squawking and feathery struggles.

“It’s about petching time!” Came a voice from the rocks, hoarse and shivering, and someone began to scramble down one of the nearby cliffs, their face hidden behind an unseasonably bright emerald scarf and wrapped tightly their dark katinu. Like a charcoal little mountain sheep, Yarrin descended upon his flock of birds, momentarily oblivious to the Endal who’d inadvertently assisted in his catch.

Before the bowyer made it to the ground, he missed his footing on the last few icy rocks—frozen water from the fall in delicate formations made them a bit dangerous anyway—and landed with an undignified grunt into the snow.

A few curses later and Yarrin looked up from under his hood, blue eyes focusing on the angry woman within a bowshot of his trap.

“I swear on—oh.” The last of his foul words died in his throat, and he exhaled through his teeth in a chagrined cloud of breath. He shook snow off like some unhappy wet dog, some braids of strawberry blond and glass baubles freeing themselves from his hood. After an awkward pause, he added with a hint of real embarrassment, “I don’t suppose you missed all that?”

by **Shayth** on February 6th, 2011, 4:31 am

The sound of the snare being released caused Shayth to jump, dropping the arrow. Her blue eyes stared widely at the flurry of snow and birds, and fearing perhaps a large cat or even a wolf the fiery woman pulled her dageer from her belt, dropping her fur and bow and crouching at the ready. As the snow settled, Shayth was left staring at sqwaking feathery masses. Before her brain could process what she was looking at, the bells sounded and the two falcons launched from the trees. A voice started her, and she shifted her gaze to the rocky out crop.

Watching the black and emerald dressed figure descend, the redhead breathed and stood still, unsure of what to do. With a slip, the figure landed with an ungraceful thump in the snow below. As he rose, Shayth saw the shock in his face. He'd not expected her either. As the man shook off the snow, the endal paused, unsure how to respond. It had been obviously embarassing, and incredibly amusing to watch. Sheathing her blade, the rider smiled and picked up her fur.

"What, your glorious entrace? No, didn't see a thing at all." Throwing the cloak around her shoulders, Shayth leaned down to pick up her bow. It wasn't damaged, luckily. Looking up at the man, she could see hints of strawberry blonde peeking out from his hood. He should be a dek, outcast by society. But he obviously wasn't. His clothes were well kept and his trapping work more skilled than a dek could manage.

"Hunting?" She posed the word as a question.

by **Yarrin** on February 6th, 2011, 5:08 am

If the Avora felt any criticism in the Endal's once-over while he busied himself shaking snow from places he'd prefer to stay dry and warm, he certainly didn't give the indication in his tone. Then again, his matter of fact response wasn't quite the normal, expected subordinate song and dance, either,

"Sort of," Yarrin was eyeing Shayth's bow as he spoke, almost lewdly, "I'm after their fluffy white feathers as much as their meat."

After concluding her weapon was not his craftsmanship, he reached up to tuck back the hair that had escaped his mess back under his hood. The bowyer took the moment to study the taller woman quickly. There was no turning back from his rather ungraceful first impression, after all. A few puffs of breath later and the Avora was turning toward his net full of birds with a smirk,

"Are you going to tell me you're hungry, Endal? You're welcome to my catch since it seems your aim's a little lacking this cold day." There was humor in his voice, as if he was attempting to rush past the foolishness of his fall in front of someone above his hard-won caste. If he was going to have to give up his little prizes, it wasn't going to be pleasantly.

by **Shayth** on February 6th, 2011, 7:03 am

Shayth noticed the look he gave her bow, setting her jaw firmly and raising an eyebrow. It wasn't anything fancy or well made, infact Kovac had made fun of it more than once. But it was hers, until she could shoot worth a damn. Clutching the bow tightly, the endal moved closer. Her temper flared momentarily and she snorted at the comment.

"I am most certainly not. And petching hell, I wasn't aiming at them. I was aiming at the...stump." Her angry voice deflated a little as she realised how stupid she sounded. Pulling out another arrow, she lifted her chin an aimed again. It was hard to focus with the man there. Lowering the bow, she frowned at him.

"How do you know I'm an endal? Are you implying that because I can't shoot I'm automatically an endal? Your implying we can't shoot?" Raising the bow, she fired at the stump, high and wide.

"Damnit!!" She yelled, stamping her foot and throwing the bow.

by **Aurordan** on February 6th, 2011, 10:04 am

From his vantage point a few meters off, Aurordan struggled to suppress a laugh. He had been observing the trappers activities with extreme interest, and had been hesitant to interrupt his preparations even by making his presence known. Still, even if unintentionally, he was probably pushing this Endal (And yes, she clearly was an Endal) a bit too far. It would probably be best to try and defuse the situation if possible. It would also give him an opportunity to look more closely at that snare.

"You know", he said, stepping out from the trees, "I've shouted every manner of curse and threat I could think of at my arrows, and it doesn't seem to help at all. It would do quite a bit more good if you calmed down a bit before shooting" He put on his most winning smile. It came out as a sort of leer. He took of his most winning smile.

by **Yarrin** on February 6th, 2011, 1:13 pm

With a chuckle, Yarrin realized quickly that his planned response of, “Because such tempers seem best reserved for only our most spoiled children,” would perhaps have been too much for the woman this cold morning. It was really crossing a line, but he his toes were numb and his cheeks burned and his ears ached and he wasn’t going back indoors anytime soon by the looks of things. He’d have to save that for another day and maybe another Endal. It wasn’t like such status was something easily hidden, really, at least from those who were not privileged enough to attain it,

“I, uh, guessed.” He replied sarcastically at her angry questioning.

Blue eyes glanced at the stump with pity at Shayth’s admission, arching a pierced eyebrow to take note of the position of her arrow. He might have lingered on the fletching with a kind of studious gaze. He opened his mouth to speak, but she was ranting and aiming again.

Was it at him?

Even if it wasn’t—

The bowyer instinctively ducked, flopping back into the snow in a somewhat comical fashion, a few birds escaping from his net before he scrambled to contain the rest.

This woman’s anger most certainly was not assisting her accuracy.

The arrow buried itself in the snow several yards away, thankfully missing both Yarrin and the poor, injured stump. Then Shayth was cursing again and throwing her bow. Lovely. At least it wasn’t his bow, then. Looking up from his perceived vantage of safety and attempting to speak over the birds he now clutched in his net against his katinu, the strawberry blond offered loudly,

“I’d say some Endal are better shots than others,” He exhaled slowly, not cringing so much as anticipating a bit of a spark for that, “But I fully expect to be outridden by one such as yourself. So I’d say—“

Yes. Exactly what this hooded stranger joining them in the cold suddenly appeared in a most timely manner to say. Just that. Calm the petch down. Only nicer. Maybe without that one’s sort of creepy smile. Yarrin fancied his smile a bit more winning ... when he was willing to give it. Now was not that time at all, though.

“Rightly that.” Smirked the bowyer as he stood, hood falling from his light-haired head in the struggled to get his footing in the disturbed snow around him. He huffed another ice crystal cloud of breath through his unseasonably bright green scarf and shook some more white powder from his person,

“Calming down would do us all a favor.”

He let that hang there, just so, half watching the Endal woman as he set about breaking the poor little necks of his fluffy white prizes.

by **Shayth** on February 6th, 2011, 9:39 pm

Oh that tore it. Glancing at the blonde, Shayth felt her ire rising. Her fists clenched and she began to approach him, when just like that another one appeared from the trees - offering a leer that only a mother could love. Stopping short, the endal glared at both men, before resting her hands on her hips and huffing in a cloud of steam. Snow had begun to lightly fall again.

"What is this, another comedian? Really, can't a girl practice in peace. Honestly. Are you all hiding in the tree's today?" Stomping toward the river, the red head looked for her bow. It had bounced against a rock, and lay cracked by the icy edge. Petching hell. Moving closer, she slipped on the snow covered ground. Catching herself, the rider stood still, before bending down to pick up the offending weapon. It was cracked well and truly beyond use. Sighing, she winced.

"Well...I suppose a bit of control couldn't hurt." Glancing at the men, she smiled a little at her outburst. It must have looked a bit stupid.

"Okay, so maybe I could do with a lot of control. But you try and be stuck all winter with a violently angry eagle and not loose your cool. Here, my name is Shayth. Can I help you with th-" She began to move towards the blonde, trying to be polite for a change, when her footing slipped. Slipping, stumbling, she tried to catch herself again, but it was already to late. With a gasp, she fell backwards into the river. It was freezing, and fast. Pushing off the ground underneath, she spluttered to the surface for a moment, struggling. A life in the air meant one of two things. Shayth was great in high places and could laugh at the clouds. But she was terrible on the land, and she didn't know how to swim.

Petch it all, this was not a good day.

by **Yarrin** on February 9th, 2011, 1:05 am

Secret :

Mmm, yes. And less of a temper, the bowyer thought to himself, offering Aurodan a sort of inviting smile. If he was going to get yelled at by an Endal, he was glad he didn’t have to endure her ranting alone. Especially when it was unwarranted ... at least, in his mind anyway.

He caught a glimpse of her bow as she slipped and stumbled to retrieve it, opening his mouth to make a comment or introduce himself or something along those lines, but it was too late. Shayth’s fall would otherwise have been comical. Hilarious. Drink-worthy. Except, it was winter.

And this woman apparently couldn’t swim.

With an almost happy flutter of white wings, whatever birds were awaiting their death at Yarrin’s hands flew free as he dropped his net and stood.

“Well, petch me—“

Time was of the essence here. The strawberry blond slipped out of his katinu, cold air stinging his bare skin and causing him to inhale sharply from underneath his scarf. Petching winter. Petching clumsy Endal. He wasn’t much for heroics, but he certainly didn’t want anything actually bad to happen to a complete stranger.

He looked to the other man in hopes he was also springing to action, though he was also secretly hoping that those few moments would somehow give Shayth a chance to grab a hold of something so he wouldn’t have to. Without waiting for a response from either of the two, he was wading onto the frozen edges of the river in an attempt to cut the Endal off before she drifted too far in the flow. He wasn’t about to get wet unless he absolutely had to—it was way too cold. Sure, he could swim, but he wasn’t sure if he was a strong enough swimmer with hypothermia.

His own bow, taller than himself, was in his hands without a second thought, unstrung and waving in the woman’s direction as he carefully attempted to keep his balance on the ice while staying ahead of her,

“If you’re done fooling around, you should grab a hold of this. In case you didn’t notice, it’s petching freezing out.”

by **Shayth** on February 9th, 2011, 9:53 pm

Shayth didn't ever think anything could be so cold. Ever. She couldn't breathe it was so cold, and her head slipped under as she was swept along by the deep undertow. River rocks brushed her feet again and she kicked hard. Reaching out as she surfaced again, the endal grabbed at anything and gasping painfully for air. As she rushed past the avora her fingers brushed his bow. Grasping desperatly, the redhead submerged again.

The cold affected her quickly, causing her to shiver in the icy river. Her grip on the bow was tenious at best, and the water combined with the shaking made it hard to keep hold. Under the surface Shayth felt like her lungs would explode. As she struggled, the rider had one thought.

Kovac. Petching avora. How would he even know. And Turiska..she would be beside herself. She had to survive, had to.