[Outside Avanthal]Talons of Steel, Blades of Ice (Avi)

[Amondaris]

Spring, Day 30, 511 AV He had been tracking his prey for the better part of two bells now. Progress was slow but not any slower than he was used to. Hunting was rarely a swift process, and movement was always more difficult in the tundra. The deep snow clung to the feet and made every step a sluggish, arduous undertaking. More than anything, patience was the most important attribute to possess when hunting or tracking. A valuable trait in any situation, yet as with most valuable commodities it was rather scarce. It had been said that the man that even now crouched low to the ground was possessed of an abundance of patience. It had even been said upon occasion that he possessed perhaps too much, so that he would lose days at a time following a trail or laying in wait for the perfect opportunity to ambush his prey. As the old saying went, you could have too much of anything, be it good or bad. If you had asked the young, scarred man that blended so well into the stark white of the snow which he currently examined, he would simply say that he had developed patience out of necessity. As it was, however, his thoughts at the moment were not musings on the value of patience but were acutely focused on the indentations upon the white powder before him. He had been settled into a comfortable crouch for a few chimes now, head bowed as he leaned forward to examine the tracks for any d discernible details. Eyes the hue of a frozen sky roved over the smattering of heavy hoof-marks as he studied the trail his quarry had left in it's wake. The day had largely passed without any real falling of snow, but a brief flurry a bell earlier had served to obscure the trailer just enough to force him to seriously slow his pace. Some imprints were worse affected than others, disappearing almost completely from even an intense scrutiny of the land. Others were more easily visible, appearing a shallow dents in the otherwise pristine snow. It was these and the occasional treasured, intact print that Amondaris followed, keeping a sharp eye our for the tell-tale imprints as he made his was across the white wastes. Stealth, too, was an important factor in the success of a hunt. Knowing how to apply your weight and set your feet down in such a way as to lessen the resultant noise took a lot of study and practice. He had been trying to perfect the art of just walking across the snow quietly for years now. Yet no matter how gently or carefully he trod across the stark, pale powder the accompanying crunch never failed to follow. Even now, as he made his way over the tundra in a couch, he took the utmost care in the placement of his boots. He tried time and time again to spread the weight of his body in such a way as to minimise the noise he made. Still that faint, mocking crunch followed in his wake as if making light of his attempts at subtlety. Yet he persevered, as he always did. He held to the belief that if you were diligent and worked enough towards your goals, that you'd achieve them in due time. All you needed was patience, and he had plenty of that. Judging from the shape of the tracks, he had earlier deduced that he was tracking a caribou. From the depth and size of the vaguely sickle shaped prints, he was tracking a buck, and a large one at that. The calloused pad of his index finger traced the crusted rim of the imprint before him as he contemplated his course of action for when he caught up to the beast. He lifted his gaze from the ground to squint our across the tundra in the direction the tracks lead off into. It would be big. Very big. Depending on how old it was, it could have a mean set of antlers on it. Those tines could gore a man with as much ease as a snow leopard's fangs. He doubted the small snare that was looped into the belt at his waist could even slow a buck caribou down unless he yanked on it, let alone take the animal down. A pitfall trap maybe, but...He gave himself a mental shrug. He'd figure it out when the time came. As it was, he'd actually have to catch up to it first. He was getting ahead of himself. Rising with the peculiarly fluid grace that was shared between dancers and swordsmen, he set off at a steady lope, his long strides sending him bound along over the snow at a distance devouring pace. He settled into a steady rhythm, allowing his breathing to deepen as he grew accustomed to the swifter pace. He was confident enough that he would catch up to his quarry in fairly short order, so long as he kept an eye our for any tell-tale tracks and kept on course. In the meantime, he'd just have to keep jogging until it came into view. Then...Well, he'd see. It'd be interesting to find out if the antlers could stand up to his cold iron swords, if nothing else.

[Avi]

Avi found it easier to hunt than to be anywhere else. Before, she had been social and cheerful, always interested in being around people. Before Terminus. Before the bond had broken. Before she returned to Syliras and found him gone. She was a useless bondmate, really - she hadn't been there to protect her partner and her mate, and that in itself was an offense to her that she really did deserve to die from. But she would, eventually, she knew - of a broken heart. The black owls mated for life, and now her mate was gone. What kept her going was the chance that one day, some day, she might hear something about where he was, what happened, or that she might find him. She doubted it - but there was always some tiny chance.

She kept going - though she had wintered in Avanthal, if only because she knew that her people could use her abilities to bring in food through the treacherous season. Syliras didn't need her, and without Terminus there, it no longer called to her. But the snowy city was always her home, even when Syliras had been a home because Term was there. Aviquilat Frostmane of Frostfawn Hold had a job here to do, and hunting was necessary for the survival of all of them. Even still now in the Spring, food had to be brought in, and that was what she was doing out here now. She would hunt, kill, and carry it back. It took her a lot less time to do it than it took others who traveled by horse or by foot, or even by bear, if some of them did. It wasn't the role of the Icewatch to hunt and bring back food, but it was something she could do to make sure that the Vantha and other denizens of Avanthal managed. She had been out and flying since before the dawn, just watching the sunrise and soaring high up in the sky, gliding, watching. Prey was moving again, and therefore, so was she. While she had flown much further than she had to, it was time to head back and get focused once more on business.

Her eyes scanned the ground looking for tracks, for signs of passing. It was always better to get the kill on the way back than it was on the way out - that meant she carried it less. Avi's flying cast a massive shadow on the ground when she was in the right positioning with the sun, and she was finally circling back towards Avanthal when she spotted the caribou buck she had seen a few short hours ago. It was big enough. It would do, for now. One had to have respect for Caihya's creatures, and take what you needed. Avi, being part of nature, understood that and respected it. The big buck would feed many, and if she was careful about it, she wouldn't lacerate the hide too much, and more things could be made out of those. She let out a loud shriek, just to send the buck on the defensive - she preferred it running, because then it was less likely to try to gore her when she came along behind it. She trimmed her wings and dove for the quadruped, feet tucked under her until the last moment before her flaring her wings as she reached for it, snatching at its neck with her massive feet and gripping as her speed continued until she felt the bones break. She let go, and upon being immediately lighter, shot almost straight up until she circled back around.

It was as she was descending again, preparing to pick up her prize and bring it back that she noticed the trap with the frozen rabbit in it. Judging by the look of it, it had been there for a number of days, at least, and Avi sincerely doubted anyone was coming back for it... She alighted on the still warm caribou, mindful not to tear it, and shifted, her backpack and spear bumping immediately against her as she became human. A very cold human. She opened her bag and pulled on her furs with a speed that came from practice, shuddering a few times to shake the chill out of her joints before picking up her spear and heading for the trap. It took a bit with her thick mitts, but she loosened the snare and worked the rabbit free, sticking it in her bag and going back to the caribou, and squinted in the distance at the figure approaching. It was a good thing her backpack was still very, very loose - just in case she needed to shift again, it wouldn't rip. But she'd see just what was coming, and if she had to, her clothing would just have to be a write-off.