[Hunt] There Is A River (Khida)

[Colt]

Though winter was fast approaching, Syna remained powerful in the sky and managed to beat back Morwen’s breath. Grassland creatures scurried back and forth, desperately trying to snatched whatever morsels they could before the first frost was upon them, and nowhere were the denizens of the plains faster or more numerous than on the banks of the Bluevein. The normally large river was now swollen from the massive rainfall that had ended not a week prior, and the normally clear water was now brown with overturned dirt and uprooted trees that it had claimed in its flood.

But here, unlike many other places, the river was calm. The bed widened, making it shallower but almost a half mile across. It was here that the grass-herds came to drink, and it was here that the beasts of the water came to hunt them.

A golden antelope looked up suddenly from its drink, and in a mere heartbeat was bounding away from the rustle and thuds of oncoming horses.

First came the stallion and the nameless man he bore. Though the journey had been long Akaidras was by no means tired, and he pranced nervously when his rider bid him closer to the water’s edge. He could feel that danger that lurked within.

The man surveyed the rippling surface, unblinking. He had seen the prints that lined the land around them and he had seen the herds come here to slake their thirst. This was where he would hunt his quarry.

He retreated from the shore and returned to the grassline as another horse emerged. The Seme gelding was not nearly as energetic as Akaidras, but he plodded steadily wherever the man decided to direct him.

The hunter guided both horses to a silted shore farther down the bank, where reeds were patched with small pockets of open sand. He was well aware of the dangers of the Sea of Grass, and making a safe camp was always his first priority. The patch he chose was walled by tall watergrasses that leaned overhead, a feature he knew would shield them from any unwanted eyes that flew above them in the night.

He quickly set about to unloading Drelah; equipment, pack saddle, waterskins and rope was set to the side, under the cover of the leaning grass. The horse snorted in relief and immediately fell to the ground for a good roll in the dirt.

The hunter left him to it and took hold of the poles of the travois. He stuck them in the ground and crossed them low to the ground, then took a coil of rope and lashed them tightly into the position before wrapping a length between. He knew that it was a bit low for her preferences, but he didn’t want her to roost high enough that she would be seen by a passing Zith.

[Khida]

The sight of the river was not inspiring to Khida, who was still uncertain of the purpose behind their trek. Swollen by the recent rainfall, darkened by displaced silt, the watercourse looked hazardous even to the falcon's inexperienced eyes. She didn't need prior knowledge to guess it would pose certain difficulty and danger to any earthbound creature who dared attempt a crossing. He wasn't going to try, was he? The falcon circled slowly overhead, watching as the man studied the river. He retreated, and didn't remount his horse, but led them down the shoreline; when he guided them towards a grass thicket and began unpacking the new horse's burdens, she knew he wouldn't be seeking out a ford -- at least, not today. That was a sign she had learned to interpret over past days, an indication he would camp here for the night. They would camp here for the night. And while that was better than him attempting the river's breadth, it was still a decision she couldn't bring herself to favor. The site was not at all one she would have chosen. Khida acknowledged that he lacked wings, weighed rather more than the peregrine did, and had the horses to consider -- but still, she didn't have to like it. The falcon continued to circle for a time, even after he had lashed the poles into a temporary perch for her, reluctant to commit herself to that perch and this site. But it wasn't like she was about to find a place distant from him -- and there was nothing close which suited her preferences. Eventually, she conceded and dropped out of the sky, landing on the taut rope. She gave voice to her opinion of the camp with a trio of short, almost barking calls -- ka, ka, ka -- and fidgeted on the poor substitute for a proper roost as if getting comfortable was a difficult task. Once she had settled in, however reluctantly, the falcon began to idly preen, all the while watching as he went about his own chores.