by Andalusia on April 11th, 2012, 4:51 pm
Andalusia eyed the handcrafted huts and shacks all made with a mix of wood scraps, branches, and uprooted trees. Every building so tightly knit that movement seemed impossible inside from where she was standing, yet the way they all stood so close made the atmosphere so intimate, so homey, in a way she simply could not place. Casually, as her eyes wandered over to the horizon, she closed in on the nearest structure and ran her fingers down its side, a soft smile forming upon her face as she felt the contours and intricacies of the magnificent creation. She admired the resourcefulness and quick thinking of The Spires residents, who were so very foreign and different in her eyes that they merited all her awe. She suddenly felt inspired to attempt the same, possibly taking a few tools and items and create her own home, or even object, perhaps even a bow. She had been instructed to meet with a certain Chaktawe woman named Nikatsi, whose appearance remains a blank, colorless mannequin, as she had no knowledge of her race whatsoever. As she allowed herself to gently turn away from the camp, her eyes narrowed in on a woman sitting upon one of the few tree stumps within the area, caressing and examining a long bow. The raven-haired human thought back to her Luvanor Grassland Hunter, Dante, who she'd left with her horse in the stables. She found it to be a little too dangerous for a hunting dog to be scouring foreign, unfamiliar lands, where he may easily get lost and wander, or be met with a foe that could have him dead with just one strike. In the end, being as the terrain and animals were foreign, Dante wouldn't be able to recognize anything or track any animal with ease, therefore deeming him useless. "I'll probably bring back some samples of the plants and animals, and familiarize myself with the place, so I can bring him with me next time," Andalusia thought happily, assuring herself that her dog, and her horse, were both safe at the stables in the Base Camp.
Undoubtedly, it must be her. The woman had copper skin, an extremely dulled, diluted shade of ruby that she had never witnessed before. But it was uniquely wondrous, and suited her jet-black curls as they cascaded haphazardly across her back, shoulders, and partly on her forehead. It was truly another kind of beauty, one that she found herself able to appreciate. A shock of color struck across her eyes, almost giving her the appearance of wearing a piece of cloth over the top of her nose bridge, with slits for her eyes. As she closed in on the woman, she had strapped her bow behind her back once more, and was curiously feeling the air for something, perhaps even searching for her presence. “Hello Andalusia. Are you ready to learn how to hunt, properly?” Nikatsi questioned, yet in a kind, cordial manner. She found herself with her throat locked shut as she met with eyes filled with complete darkness, as black and endless as the color of the Chaktawe's hair. She opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, trying to find the words and actions that would not lead her to appear rude or disrespectful. "Y-Yes, th-thank you, I apologize if I'd k-kept you waiting long," she managed, although clearly choking in her own sentence, she was able to return the woman's warm smile.
As Nikatsi stood up, she took the opportunity to observe her even more, eyeing the lean muscles and long, slender legs that might just be the mark of a skilled hunter, a pure Chaktawe, or a mix of both. She was surprised to find that the woman's head came a few inches below hers, but found it hard to look down to gaze at her face. From the way she stood, to the way she simply held her bow idly, it was rather clear that she had experience that was far more superior to her own. She found that Nikatsi had been doing a little bit of observation as well, as she found parts of her face, arms, and legs burning with embarrassment at the awareness that someone was scanning them, sizing them up, testing them. "The animals here are a bit fiercer, larger, and more cunning than any you have met before. Silence is golden, the wind is your friend, and most importantly, kill before being killed," she spoke with authority, seriousness, and confidence. Clearly she knew what she was talking about, and to Andalusia, her words of advice were more valuable than silence. "Have you inspected your gear? If so, you will learn by doing," Nikatsi added, looking just about ready to set out and teach her the ropes. "M-My gear, I believe I have everything..." she trailed off as she twisted and turned her torso about, her hands patting her belongings to ensure their presence. She had her backpack, which had her waterskin, toiletries, and rations. Below it was her rucksack; empty, waiting eagerly to be filled with harvested berries, herbs, and game. Around her waist was her quiver, filled with nineteen red-feathered arrows, while her bow was strapped above it. It was a finely crafted composite shortbow, much smaller than Nikatsi's longbow, which deeply intrigued Andalusia, as she had never tried any other type or style of bow. "K-Kindly orient me, in case I've missed something?" she requested politely, finally plucking up the courage to look at the Chaktawe's face as she spoke to her. She was eager and excited to begin the hunt, and more so to learn from a master in hunting and archery.
