by Dayvon on January 14th, 2010, 2:22 am
The 36th day of winter.
Tall pines stretched toward the heavens their boughs drooping solemnly with the weight of fresh snow. It seemed the whole of the forest was illuminated and bright, in the radiant and still day. Tiny wisps of smoke twirled over the treetops as Dayvon crouched next to his fire pit.
He had spent the morning setting traps and other snares along animal trails he had seen, being very careful to not disturb natural highway. Judging by the tracks it appeared that a variety of small mammals used the path, he'd seen the tracks squirrels, rabbit, raccoon, and the occasional fox. He at least hoped for something decent to eat. Currently he was working on a means to erase his scent from the area. That was where the fire came in.
He pulled torch from his pack set it a light, then went about smoking his traps. When the task was done he stuffed the end of the torch into the snow to put it out.
It was quiet here, and the stillness only seemed to make Von restless. He was a man of action and he had spent his entire life life in motion. This place was not as bountiful as he had hoped for and required a patience that he had always strained to achieve. Being a myrian, battle wasn't far from his mind. It wouldn't be all that long before he left the peace of this forest, for the chaos of a city. He simply hadn't decided which one. For now though he would head back to his camp, hoping something stumbled into his traps.
