Thrill of the Hunt (Solo)

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This is Falyndar at its finest. Danger lurks everywhere - in the ground, in the trees, in the bush. Only the strongest survive...

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Thrill of the Hunt (Solo)

Postby Sashisaxani on September 27th, 2012, 12:17 am

TS: Fall 8th, 512 A.V.
In the Jungle Wilds, due east of Zinrah…

The heartbeat of the jungle went on. Like the Talobian drums that thumped in the so did the chests of those in the wild lands of Falyndar. A tumult with no comprehensible beat echoed off of each tree and in the mind of each sentient being who wondered between them. The hunt was on.

There was a stampede. Wild boards charged through the thick foliage of the lowest layers. The birds cawed, monkeys cooed, and plants snapped shut while the chase passed them. There only might have been four, but they were large. The bountiful realm of Caiyha’s provided for all who sought the fruits it beheld. And what was fruit to one was not necessarily fruit to another in these circumstances. The fruit the boars grazed on was inedible to others, but the flesh of the boar would taste just as sweet. Thus the Myrians chased after the boars. They were surprisingly few, the fang seeming to have momentarily dispersed to gather or hunt, as in the current case. The bystanders heard first the clamber of hooves in dirt, then the silent steps of the savage hunters, and, if one listened closely – for one could not see this entity – finally the lagging slither of scales over the high canopy.
Sashisaxani
For Her Glory
 
Posts: 83
Words: 150765
Joined roleplay: May 8th, 2012, 10:19 pm
Race: Dhani
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Thrill of the Hunt (Solo)

Postby Sashisaxani on September 27th, 2012, 12:17 am

The last of the rain had left the jungle moist and warm. Scent would no longer be dampened by the falling waters; marking odors wouldn’t run and flow across the jungles. Fall would bring a new sort of chaos. The animals would be reclaiming territories lost in the rain, prey would wonder into realms otherwise avoided or unexplored, and the Myrians would seek to take advantage of the moment.

Saxani has taken notice to this little pattern over the years, honing her strategy for maximum efficiency. Though it was far from perfect, the only way to test her prowess in the hunt was by practice. As the rains came to an end, the Myrians would resume their regular posts, check trap, and so forth. It was a necessary routine. Saxani has slipped past them in the dead of night, long before the morning sun kissed the earth. The art begins here, in fact. The Dhani came to rely on her reptilian abilities.

A flicker of the tongue, and the patrols revealed themselves. A gaze into the dark revealed the otherwise invisible forms. Every muscle shifted simultaneously for the ever silent creeping through the jungle. Saxani had managed to get her way to the edge of the ruins, her Dhani arms keeping her chest up far enough so it didn’t drag. She was armed with harness, bow, quiver, arrows, and a mind to kill. Had it just been so long that this blood lust had finally returned to her? Was the texture of wet animal hide sickening now, disgust set on by the slipping of fur all too easily down the throat? In exchange for the dry, sticking of fur…no. There was something inside that called her out to play. Perhaps it was more than that, perhaps the Dhani were more alike to the Myrians than they realized. Honestly, would Falyndar be so different if the Dhani had swelled in numbers and corned the Myrians in a hole? It was kill or be killed, cliché, but true.

The serpent form had reached out to rock and brush carefully pushing her way through the jungle. It might have taken some bells’ time to exit the outer most shell of the blockade, but she made it. When the Myrian patrols neared, she frozen, and not even the tigers could detect the scent of her under the mud that coated her body. Though the rain had ceased, the earth still resembled a marsh in low places, mud abundant. When the time permitted, she looked to the trees. She reached up and coiled her Dhani body up and around the limbs of bark giants and made her way across. And when the Myrian drew near then, she need merely hold still, becoming one with the shadowed canopy, her coloration acting as her shield. All seeing eyes need merely wait and see that the brief moment had passed before she was on her way. She had made it out though by means of stealth, coloring, and in some moments speed. It takes a sharp mind, a quick mind to know when to stop and go, and when does go, she goes swiftly, yet quietly… What use is hiding amongst the trees if you rustle the leaves?

She had made her way out east by mid-day. To some degree she felt limited by her Dhani form, but she dare not set down her possessions for even a moment. She instead hid among the trees like any Dhani would. She felt the notches at the top of her bow string, keeping the band itself just lax enough to not wear it. She was waiting for the clear shot, not daring near anything without knowing it’s at a disadvantage to begin. When dealing with Myrians, she reasoned, there’s no harm in being too sure of yourself. The arrow hit the chest? Put one through the eye for good measure. It’s not like a dead Myrian will need his body anytime soon.

She had waited, patiently so, for hours before the first signs of squealing pigs reached her ears. The Dhani frozen among the shades of leaves watching the direction from where the sound had come. She saw them - not too far off now - cross through a clearing path through the jungle, if such existed. The brush was thin. First the sound of pigs, then Myrians. Saxani kept to the trees, reaching hand over hand in the branches to pull herself and push against the canopy to follow after them. Only when she was a safe distance away did she start to speed up, making a little noise, moving quickly to follow them. The Myrians didn’t look back, to some degree of thanks, the young fools. Even then, they would only see the bouncing of branches and leaves above, the dew sliding from the greenery in a second shower. Saxani was on the move. The bow was as if a part of her, the string across her chest, the wooden shaft smoothly flowing across her back to her ear. She moved quickly as she could, running on the branches. The climb came to a halt as Saxani saw the Myrians spring their trap, the hogs caught helplessly.

Siku be praised; praise to Caiyha, Saxani prayed to her Mothers for this moment of grace. It could have easily been her subdues by horned nets and pit traps. Thanks to these pigs as well. If the savages didn’t mutilate them, she might manage a free meal out of this. Saxani stayed up high and aimed to keep her distance. Her eyes were sharp and steady; she saw everything there was to see outright. There were five of them, as far as she could see. Having surveyed the land what she could, she was sure that was all the savage meat to be slaughtered here today. Saxani watched as the boars were put to an end and they were packaged, skewers sent through one end and out the mouth. The Dhani’s head turned at this strange ritual. She was intrigued… ideas began to formulate.

Saxani marked which way would be home. She had tried to stay a straight course from it, and still she could feel them. It was as if the earth vibrated in the nest’s general direction as their scaled hides slipped over the rocks she called home. She would follow these Myrians. Hopefully, if all went well, they would be moving back toward the blockade as opposed to Taloba. How kind of the Myrians to carry her catch, no?

To much success, the Myrians did head back the way they came. The whole while Saxani had sat still among the shadows watching them, learning about them, doing what she could to collect some intelligence. She saw their weapons, and she identified a leader. There was a tracker among them too, armed with those bastardly envenomed darts and a blowpipe. More importantly was the instrument at her side. She wasn’t sure what the Myrians called it, but it was loud when swung. While it was important to severe this group from the rest, she also had some interest in acquiring one for herself. The tracker lifted the tiger roarer and began to swing some sweet sound that crackled through the jungles, signaling the catch. Saxani was too entranced to learn the meaning or memorize it. The sound was all she wanted. There was also a single archer. She seemed to have a good shot after putting down a boar from a distance, even if it was a netted target. She hit it under the neck, and the beast collapsed soon after. Short blades manned the troop otherwise, one dual wielding. All the better to trim the hedge that way. Saxani watched as the front line men lifted the skewer stacked with delectable meat and followed their commander. The archer and tracker followed behind, briefly exchanging words.

The Myrian tongue was heavy with accents, something Saxani did try to keep an ear for. For as poor as her Myrian was, she had an ear for some phrases…

“We’re meeting them at the blockade?”

“Some distance from it. I’m hungry. Too much running, haha. We should trim the jungle around them and watch squirm to escape.”

“I heard they dig holes. No good.”

“Let them dig holes. We’ll find them.”

The tracker proved incredibly arrogant. Saxani was thankful she took the rear. The commander seemed to know a thing or two as well, leading back to the blockade with ease.

Saxani took in their scent and let them all pass through her. Once they were gone, and only then, did she move from her perch. Saxani knew exactly how she wanted to handle this troop. She was armed with more weapons than her bow and arrows, tooth or nail, she had her mind, and wanted to use it. Saxani moved outward, north bound, a few minutes before she repositioned herself due west for Zinrah. She was fair unencumbered, and moved swiftly now through the jungle floor. Her body bunched against every root and trunk to shove off at maximum speed, her armed reaching out. She felt her chest move with each breath and grow heavy. It was invigorating, but soon came to an end once the Dhani headed the troop off. Saxani took her bow and a single arrow and prepared herself for the kill. She figured they would cross the path directly in front of her. She’d have all of five seconds, maybe, to shoot. Shoot to kill, she thought, think before you shoot.

The Myrian troop crossed some moments later. When she heard the first of them, Saxani arose against a tree and took aim. She had little room to move without being noticed. Her back was to the bark, her arrow not reaching out even the slightest bit to expose herself to the east. With a string pulled as if to shoot around the world, Saxani held her breath as the troop began to cross her. The first target was the most obvious; she wanted her prize before she even finished the task.

The string almost let loose as the first Myrian crossed her. She let the string lax slightly as to not move much at all. Then she counted them, one, three…four. The tracker was next, her heart was calm, and she took another breath. Those sharp eyes zeroed in on the Myrian’s every detail. As soon as the tracker blinked, Saxani let loose her arrow aimed for the savage’s neck. Saxani could not have been more than thirty feet away, and hit her target. The arrow hit the neck, the body moving with the energy. Saxani’s body moved too, back behind the tree, down under the brush. This was guerrilla warfare to her. Each shot had to count. The Myrian body flopped briefly on the jungle floor as the last bits of life left her. The troop paused now realizing they were under attack. Saxani thought quickly, coolly. She scaled the tree before her and began to move overhead. The archer had her bow at the ready for anything that would come. Some archer of skill, she figured out where Saxani had shot from, and the swordsmen went after her, fruitlessly.

Saxani had already scaled the tree, getting a lift from her lunge followed by the strong grip of her hands and coils. She managed to move closer to the troop before she had to pause herself. The dry mud had either fallen off of her scaled body or engrained itself in the small ravines. Her dark browns and greens provided what camouflage she needed. If she didn’t move, they shouldn’t see her, right? She was lucky the Myrians were so focused on the ground. Saxani’s arrows were not of a specific craft. In fact, they might have once been salvaged from Myrians themselves. Was this an act of treason by one of their own, some foreigner, or indeed the Dhani who were oh-so helplessly pinned in a hole? The tracker would have thought twice had she seen Saxani let that arrow loose.

The tiger roarer was attached snugly to her waist. Saxani had to get her hands on it soon before they picked it up and went on the move again. The archer was an immediate threat to Saxani’s prize. The same set up was in action. She certainly didn’t want the Myrians to know she was out here, or to lose this jewel of sorts. Saxani risked the movement, her tail gliding along the high branches. The leader turned thinking she saw shadows. She barked something to the troop and eyes went up. Saxani froze, just a matter of feet from the archer. She kept in the shadows.

Saxani was never one for quick draw, but she was willing to try. The only one who would reach her from here was that archer, and she wanted the damn instrument. The leader saw it play in slow motion, studying the Dhani as prey. Saxani dropped from the canopy with her front end, the bow pull taut. The arrow went right into the archer’s chest as she fell dead, the arrow of her own flopping in the air without the force to send it forth. Saxani caught herself in her swing on the tree’s trunk and scaled down, the Myrian commander sizing her up for every inch of her body. The Dhani hit the jungle floor with the totality of her body and vanished under the brush. It moved with her, but soon was gone, the Dhani moving south bound.

Saxani drew her arrow and aimed as before. Letting herself relax she slipped down and briefly caught herself to fire straight at the archer, her abs flexing, her body and the tree limb bobbing before she hit her mark and left for tree. The Dhani immediately surged for the quiver and tiger roarer. She made off south, the only clear path to escape. She moved to head off the Myrians again in the same semi-circle pattern. The squad’s leader called back the swordsmen to regroup. The Myrians vanished underneath the brush, caring little for their catch at the moment. The hunter had become the hunted, and now she refused Saxani, seeing to reverse the circumstances. It would become a battle of will and wit as the noon hours died away and sunlight died. Saxani looked over her new toy thinking of how she could use this in the future while the Myrians constructed their battle plan. The greatest misfortune was that Saxani had weaseled her way into their perimeter as they set their traps. Whose misfortunate was not yet known.
Sashisaxani
For Her Glory
 
Posts: 83
Words: 150765
Joined roleplay: May 8th, 2012, 10:19 pm
Race: Dhani
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets


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