Without Words (Khida)

[Colt]

68th of Summer Summer was desperately trying to cling to its prime, but though the heat showed no signs of leaving any time soon every now and then a stray breeze tousled the grass like a cool breath, bearing the promise of next season. Syna thundered silently over the plains, forcing the denizens to take cover in dens, warrens, brambles or simply under trees if nothing else was available. Nothing in its right mind wanted to be out in this heat. Save for those in the hunters’ crater. High walls warded off the heat and trapped water within, sheltering the vibrant forest in shadow. The green leaves were lush and out of place in the neverending waves of grass that surrounded it, but the sun could do nothing to warm the damp shade and heat could do nothing more than hover above the canopy. Within the crater the life of the creatures continued, most too small to be a threat to anything but each other. Jays and finches flitted between branches while a beaver worked busily in the creek that ran through the crater’s center and fed the pond at its heart. Tiny antelope grazed in the trees, and from a high crag in the wall a predator surveyed it all with content confidence. The outcropping upon which he scrawled was smooth and warm from the unblocked sight of the sun, and from below it might seem that he had flown there as a path was difficult to find. Yet this creature was a wily thing, else his lean frame would not be able to survive in the harsh land that he dwelled in. He was not strong or fast, but his instinct for survival lay in his cleverness and in his partner. He lay on his side, one half warmed by rock and the other by air, and lazily surveyed the crater that he had begun to conceive of as theirs, his and hers. Why shouldn’t it be? They were the most powerful creatures that dwelled here, and he chased out anything else that dared kill within the stone shell. The most dangerous couldn’t enter at all. When they were here, they were safe. His half-asleep thoughts wandered to the bird he had found himself working with. Despite the mutual hunger that drove them to the plains together, it had evolved to be more than cold cooperation. He enjoyed their forays and seeing her every morning. He enjoyed the way her eyes took everything in with a focused clarity; sharp, calculating, more intelligent than any falcon had a right to be. She had learned his movements and taught him hers with a grace that was rare in this savannah, and she possessed an intellect that matched his own. He missed her sometimes, as strange as that was, missed another smart beast in a world of dumb ones. Not entirely awake and not entirely aware he was doing it, the hunter sent out the call. A distinct ke-ke-ke-ke-ke-ke-ke wove through the air, soft and half-hearted in comparison to his morning calls. Made more from whim and loneliness than anything else, it was a weak invitation, not for hunting, but for simple companionship.

[Khida]

It was altogether a sleepy afternoon, air weighted in a pleasant way by summer's fading warmth, the background buzzing drone of insects doing whatever it was insects did and the more musical burbling of water flowing along its route through the crater. The kind of afternoon where it was quite nice to sit in a tree and watch the world go by, absently preening feathers or just drowsing under the influence of a full belly. Khida was doing exactly that, comfortably settled on a bough of some leafy tree -- some variety with many little roundish leaves which danced even in today's wan breeze, creating ever-shifting patterns of green-gold light and shadow. The effect was oddly mesmerizing, and she was content to just watch the light and the way the little birds punctuated it, flitting through on their own business. They knew the falcon wasn't on the lookout for prey, and so were all but fearless despite her presence. The breeze brought another sound to her ears, a voice become as familiar as the falcon's own. She blinked herself to wakeful attention, considering the tone and timbre of his call -- slow and soft, as lazy as the afternoon which surrounded them. Not a summons, but a request, an invitation for her to join him. Khida turned her head to look towards the source of the sound, soon glimpsing the man's form through the fluttering foliage of her tree. He sprawled on a projection of the rock wall, as he was wont to do, apparently as fond of basking in the sun as any feline. She considered the contrast between sun and green shade, the heat of the stone and the coolness which wafted off the water, the effort required to fly over and the simple joy of being in another's presence. The Kelvic had never shifted out here in the grasslands; not where being human was a liability, where wings and talons were essential tools for survival. She wasn't sure how he had managed, before their partnership formed -- and knew quite clearly she had no desire to attempt the same herself. So Khida had never even tried to speak with him, to ask if he saw her companionship in the same light, if it mattered to him that he was no longer here alone. Granted, there was the horse. But the horse wasn't quite the same, in her reckoning. The falcon didn't have to consider very long before she reached a decision, a decision which was all but inevitable from the moment the quandary was raised. She dropped from her bough and glided out from under the treecover, swooping low over grasses still green with the abundance of water. As she approached the rock wall, Khida flapped for more height, climbing upwards beyond the level of his outcrop, then slowed and descended to her chosen point of landing. She came to rest on a smaller spur only a couple of feet above, having long since abandoned any concerns she had about being within his easy reach. The peregrine peered down at him, tipping her head to one side, then whistled a low and quiet greeting to the lazy human.

[Colt]

At first he assumed that she had either not heard him or had opted to ignore the invitation. Sighing in something that resembled disappointment, he rolled his shoulders in a half-stretch. He felt that enough sun had been garnered for one day. He settled upright on his haunches, and in doing so caught sight of the gray form flitting towards him. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. She had come. He decided that he was just fine where he was. She came to rest on a small outcropping above, cocking her head at him and uttering a low whistle. He mulled over the sound, and after a few moments he pursed his lips and tried to imitate it. No, wait, that wasn’t quite right. He tried again. Better. He frowned, then tried a third time. There, that was it. The best he could do right now. He would practice more, later. He whistled one last time, but this one was accompanied by a gesture. Like the many that they had come to utilize on the open plains, it was vague, almost unknown to him save the feeling that this new sign was appropriate here. Friend. His stomach growled suddenly. He looked down at the offending area and growled back in irritation. He didn’t want to be hungry, not right now. He had devoured the last of his stored food in the morning, and because of that he hadn’t hunted. He looked up at the sky and grimaced. Hunting now would be too hot, far too hot for comfort. The displeased hunter surveyed the crater below. He had no wish to leave its walls, especially when the heat’s suppression of everything that dwelt outside would likely render a hunt fruitless, anyway. He was nevertheless loath to take any of the creatures that dwelt within, but neither did he wish to spend the rest of the day hungry. What about… He looked at the falcon. She was a bird-hunter, molded to rule the sky and sky-dwellers. What would be her reaction if he offered a fish? Though he assumed that she had fed herself, he felt that some kind of apology was needed to make up for the hunt-less morning, if only to ease his own sheepish remorse. He rose to a crouch, and again uttered the request-chirps as he approached one side of his perch to begin his descent.

[Khida]

He pursed his lips and whistled, at which the falcon cocked her head. He did it a second time, and she whistled back at him. After the third, she tipped her head the other way, but remained quiet. The fourth, he embellished upon with a gesture -- a gesture whose significance was uncertain, beyond a generally positive association. In return, Khida chirped back at him, an equally vague but generally positive sound. His regard seemed to turn introspective afterwards, the man regarding first his own self, then the stone-bounded vista about them. Unperturbed, the falcon fluffed up her feathers and settled in to preen, idle grooming which this sort of warm and lazy afternoon was well-suited for. She paid the man little attention as he surveyed their domain, neither aware of nor curious about what thoughts might pass through his mind; all was well in her world, and so surely he was equally content. Except that he wasn't quite so. The man chirped at her again, and Khida lifted her head to blink amber eyes at him. He moved towards one side of the ledge, clearly intending to descend to the crater floor and... well, she had no guesses at his intent. The falcon watched him begin picking his way down the stony slope, wondering why he had called her up here only to go away again. Curious, she looked on until he reached the bottom and set out across the more level earth, making not for the cavern which was his den, but for the verdant greenery towards the crater's center. He didn't hunt in this place, so what else might he be doing for which her presence was desired? Curiosity piqued, the peregrine shoved off from her own perch and flew out through the crater air, overflying the man and circling back around. She whistled down at him, tone rising upwards in query.

[Colt]

The she-falcon responded to him as he responded to her, both trading whistles back and forth in a manner that was ultimately meaningless, but still served as a vague point of connection; the vocalization was little more to the predator than a way to simply confirm her presence, to prove that he wasn’t alone.

She observed him as he heaved himself to his feet and over to the narrow ledge that had gotten him up here in the first place, though she made no move to follow. The hunter eyed the path down, knowing that it required caution but knowing also that it was not a particularly complex path. He’d climbed it before, and now was no different.

He turned to hug the wall as he sidled to a slight outcropping. There, he took hold of a crack in the stone and lowered himself to another, larger outcropping a pace-length below his current one. He found his destination, then moved his hand to where he had just been standing. From there, it took little effort to make his way to the dirt slope that served as the bottom, and from there to the flatter, greener places.

He angled towards the trees, and beyond them to the water he knew they guarded. He’d seen fish within those waters many times before, some as small as sticks and others longer than his footprint. Surely he could find something suitable in there.

A shadow passed overhead, and the hunter looked up. The she-falcon soared above him, banking back and whistling inquisitively. He chirped in response, acknowledging her inquiry without conveying any real information; there was the ghost of hunt upon his features, but it was vague and more directed at himself than at her.

The trees became thicker the closer he came to the water, alive with songbirds that quieted nervously as the falcon flew above them. In short order the predator came to the glinting stream, where the water was wider than he could jump across and slow-moving. This was where fish would rest, and therefore become prey.