The Stalk of a Spider (solo)

[Asara Willow]

Summer 1st, 511 AV

Asara was low on all fours as she crept through the dark trees surrounding the city-castle of Syliras, her pupils as wide as ever to soak up the dim, dappled light of the silver smile in the night sky. Her gold eyes were dark with hunger, and her head roared and ached.

The Symenestra stiffened as a sudden rustling broke out next to her, a small mammal tearing out in fear as the predator neared. Out dashed a large squirrel, curiously awake, and Asara lunged for it, just barely seizing its fluffy tail before it escaped.

Asara had to fight the urge to chase, to hunt the squirrel with all her ability until she was either exhausted or sated. Her tongue flicked over her lips, moistening them, at the thought of chasing. She didn't though.

Her style revolved around what she saw of her small cousins, the various spiders of Syliras and the Wildlands surrounding it. Spiders didn't chase the smallest of prey. If a little fly made it's escape, the spider would retreat until another came. Patience was needed. It was necessary to survive. The impatient huntress could find herself in the jaws of the eager bear, after all.

So Asara moved on, although she kept her eyes and ears open for the sound of that squirrel. She moved gracefully, her frame designed for the careful stalk on hands and feet. This was her strength, her elegance. No human could defeat her in the hunt without some divine ability.

Suddenly, the slight Symenestra froze and lowered herself onto her belly. The front of her leather armour brushed against the ground as she crept forward with all her stealth to peer between two bushes at a small encampment of men and women.

They were a jumble of bodies, an untrained orchestra of voices all clamoring for dominance over the other as they tried, in a drunken stupor, to relate their greatest tales of their prowess.

The sight made Asara roll her eyes. She'd come across them once before on a previous night time hunt and found them to be silly creatures. So she retreated into the darkness again, fading back into the shadows and becoming invisible to most humans. At least, until the moon's shivery light found her again.

The hunt continued as though it had never been interrupted by the bawdy humans in their verbal rut. She was back in the grace of it, in the spell of the night. Something stirred above her, and the internal voice that constantly interrupted lovely moments hissed at her to investigate.

Asara clambered up the tree with all the quick elegance of a spider, the tiny hooks on her fingers and feet providing purchase on the tree's bark. Now, she was up at about mid level, and she was secretly glad her race didn't suffer fear of heights, although a decent fall would seriously injure them. Slowly, delicately, Asara made her way across a large bough, her light weight barely making it dip until she was about half way... But she'd already seen what had made the noise.

It was that squirrel, and it's large herbivore eyes were, as was natural, wide and watchful. She knew instinct was telling it to flee, but it really didn't have anywhere to go. Asara realized the same thing and slowly drew a ribbon dagger from where she'd stuck it into her pants, moving slowly so the squirrel only tensed but did not flee.

With such small prey, Asara knew she'd have only one shot. Like the spider that battled the wasp, she'd have to find the best time to strike, to kill, or else lose.

With a deep, calming breath, Asara flicked her wrist and... crack... The squirrel was too slow, and the dagger had sunk into it's left rear leg, crippling it and over balancing it. Asara watched it fall with the detachment of someone who honestly didn't care, but who found gravity interesting to study. With a snort she broke off her stare and slowly made her way back down, paying attention for any scavengers as she went over her strike.

It was amusing to see how easy she'd taken down the little rodent. In fact, she knew it was sheer luck. She had never hunted with a weapon before, and hitting a squirrel so easily was a complete shock to her. But the thoughts faded as she plucked her dagger out of the squirrel and lifted it's warm body to her pale lips.

Tonight, she had her prey.