Suicide Archery at Sunset [Open]

[Sira]

Sira could see the excitement in Cyrill's eyes mirroring her own. Apparently the woman was as excited about flying as Sira was, which was absolutely perfect. Even if they didn't hunt anything, Sira would be pleased. To make another person so happy would be enough, and she would hopefully gain a friend from it. "Don't worry, you wont fall. And if you do, I'll catch you."

Sira took a few steps back and threw off her katinu, letting it drift to the ground around her. In a swirl of lights and colors Sira shifted, transforming into one of the giant eagles her people are best known for. She knelt down, or as close to kneeling as a giant bird can do, to make it easier for Cyrill to climb on, and in the telepathic manner of the eagles she told her, "Climb on my back, near my neck. Grip me with your legs, and you can hold onto my feathers or wrap your arms around me if you're not comfortable enough for that."

Once Cyrill was aboard she stood and spread her massive wings, flexing them and getting used to the feel of a rider on her back. She walked over to the edge and turned her head to look Cyrill in the eyes. "Ready?" Not waiting for an answer, Sira hopped off the edge of the cliff, going into a shallow dive and gently coming out of it a few yards down. She gradually ascended, not wanting to do anything to difficult just yet, then turned toward the sea. "You okay up there?"

[Cyrill]

It was strange, hearing someone else’s words inside her head. Yet, it didn't feel like an intrusion in her thoughts - just another current of speech that she had been previously unaware of. Nodding, Cyrill slung her bow across her shoulder securely and slowly approached the giant eagle that had taken the woman’s place. She swung herself onto the eagle’s back, situating herself as firmly as she could manage. She clutched some feathers near her neck, hoping that her firm hold on them would be enough to keep her from sliding off.

As Sira moved toward the edge off the cliff, Cyrill mouthed a quick, inaudible prayer to Priskil. She barely had time to register Sira’s words before the eagle had dropped of the ridge. Cyrill’s heart felt like it had dropped downward along with them for the brief moment that they appeared to be falling. Thankfully, the sensation didn’t last too long, as Sira began to rise into the sky. Her fingers gripped the feathers with a deadly grip and she hoped she wasn’t causing the eagle any pain.

Cyrill had yet to get over the shock of actually being in the air, of not having her feet planted firmly on the ground, and of being surrounded by nothing but blue skies. She exhaled a deep breath she didn’t know she was holding as she loosened her grip slightly and relaxed the stiffened muscles in her back. It was only when she relaxed that she was able to appreciate the magnificence of all the new sensations she was feeling. There was the wind blowing against her face, stronger than any wind she had ever felt, but gentle at the same time. The air felt fresher up here than it ever had down on the ground and for a second Cyrill couldn’t comprehend how she had ever survived in the bowels of the mountain without breathing this crisp air.

“I’m wonderful. Everything is so…so…wonderful,” Cyrill finished, her voice filled with a distinct sense of awe.

[Sira]

Sira was glad Cyrill was enjoying herself. It felt good to have a rider on her back, like it was somehow natural. She caught a warm pocket of air and rose even higher, the cliff where they launched from barely a spec to normal eyes. Sira banked right in a slow wide turn, then leveled out into a gentle descending glide. Again Sira's words came floating into Cyrill's mind, "I'm thinking maybe we shouldn't try shooting anything. I'm not wearing any gear, and I don't want to risk you getting hurt... unless you think you can hold on with just your legs."

As she finished her statement they passed over the Katshika Falls and out into the valley. Sira followed the river on toward Thunder Bay, the water red reflecting the light of the setting sun. "We could land somewhere and shoot at some tree's if you want, or would you prefer we keep flying?"

[Cyrill]

Cyrill felt a tug of desperation at Sira’s proposal to land. She inhaled a deep breath of air, realizing just how much she wanted to keep flying.

“It’s alright. I think I can manage to hold on,” she said, her voice still laced with excitement. “Besides, what would be the fun in shooting at trees?”

As she glanced down onto the ground, she found that she was no longer afraid of falling. That might very well have been irrational, considering the altitude they were at, but Cyrill didn’t care. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine her mother flying through the skies on her eagle’s back, bowstring taut and arrow poised to fire. The woman’s features blurred in Cyrill’s mind, since she had no concrete memory of her mother, but she knew the woman she was envisioning was Elira. And for once, Cyrill was doing something her mother could’ve been proud of.

Cyrill gingerly extracted one hand from where it had been buried in the eagle’s feathers. She reached for an arrow from her quiver, careful to keep her balance. Then, she withdrew her other hand, pulling the bow from across her shoulder. With both hands occupied and no other means of support except her legs, Cyrill still felt strangely safe. Grasping her bow in ready position, she notched an arrow and surveyed the ground for a target.

“See anything that won’t run away too fast if I shoot at it?” she called to Sira.

[Sira]

"Tree's don't run away," Sira joked as her keen eyes scanned the ground below. It didn't take her long before she spotted something below. A deer was approaching the river, cautious as they always are, but it was looking out for things on the ground, not giant birds from above. The deer would certainly run, but it was something that could be taken with a single well placed arrow. Bigger game, such as a whale or walrus, would take many arrows and could always escape below the water. Had Cyrill been an experienced hunter it would have been no problem, but she needed something that wasn't going to disappear below the waves if she missed.

"Down there, you probably can't see it, but there is a deer down there drinking. Should be easy enough." Sira started to circle back around. The deer was drinking now, and a good distance away from the treeline. Cyrill might get two or three shots off before it could reach the tree's, if she didn't take it in one. "I'm going to dive. Keep yourself low on my back, so the wind doesn't blow you off. Be ready to fire as soon as we're in range." If Sira had lips a smile would be on them as she positioned herself in the air, then dropped into a dive. The wind raced through her feathers as they rocketed down toward the unknowing deer, and Sira felt strangely at place. She had been in this position many times, diving toward unsuspecting prey, but with a rider on back it was a new feeling altogether.

[Cyrill]

Somehow it hadn’t even occurred to Cyrill that the wind could blow her off. But there was no time to think about as Sira went into a dive. Cyrill leaned down as close to the eagle’s body as she could as the wind pulled her hair backward. Once they were closer to the ground, she could just make out the deer’s form. She drew back her bowstring, hoping that she wouldn’t miss too badly. Squinting her left eye to get a better focus on the animal, she let the arrow fly with a loud twang.

The arrow buried itself in the ground at the deer’s feet and it took off running with a sound that Cyrill could only describe as a shriek. She wasted no time in notching her second arrow. Knowing that her time was limited, she still took her aim carefully. She knew that she had the ability and the strength to fire into her target. She had practiced enough with Beck to know that. The one thing she had trouble with was proper aim. Whenever she would get flustered – usually by Beck’s teasing – she would always fire too quickly and miss her target. This time, she was determined not to make the same mistake.

She released the second arrow, following it with her gaze as it cut through the air toward the fleeing deer. She felt a pang of satisfaction mixed with guilt as it pierced the base of the deer’s neck. It ran for a few more seconds, getting progressively slower with each step. Finally, its legs seemed to give out and it sunk to the ground.

[Sira]

"Sira watched as the first arrow darted past her head, planting into the ground next to the deer. She could hear the deer's shriek of fear as it took off running and she wondered if it would get away. But sure enough a second arrow came darting out and caught the deer right in the neck. It didn't kill the deer outright, and the deer kept running a few yards before it finally fell down.

Sira adjusted her flight and took them over to the animal, landing next to it. She could tell it wasn't completely dead yet, her keen eyes picking up the slightest movement of breathing from its chest.

"Go and make sure it is finished." Sira waited for Cyrill to get off and silently wondered what they would think back at Wind Reach with a deer in her claws and someone who wasn't a rider on her back. If she could chuckle in eagle form she would have at that thought.

[Cyrill]

Cyrill’s heart plummeted once again as Sira swept downward, landing softly on the ground. She slid off the eagle’s back, feeling the ground sway under her feet. Determined not to fall on her face, she took a moment to steady herself before heading for the fallen animal.

She crouched down next to the deer and was dismayed to find that its chest still rose and fell erratically. Blood trickled out from the deer’s neck and pooled on the ground, staining the grass red. Cyrill bit her lip uncertainly. She regretted not brining some sort of hunting knife along with her so she could end the deer’s suffering. Taking a deep breath, she gripped the arrow protruding from the deer’s neck at its top and yanked upward with all her force. It came away in her hand with a sickening swoosh. Just like separating a finished piece of glass from the punty – Cyrill thought in the back of her mind.

Without the arrow to obstruct the wound, blood poured out from the deer’s neck much more quickly and in a greater quantity. One last shuddering breath and the deer grew still. Cyrill laid a hand on the deer’s neck, feeling for a pulse and was satisfied to find no traces of a heartbeat. Her hand still on the deer’s neck, Cyrill murmured under her breath, “May you find rest in Priskil’s embrace.”

She glanced down at the bloodied arrow in her hand, unsure of what to do with it, but reluctant to put it back in her quiver. She almost dropped it back on the ground, before realizing how much of a waste it would be. With a resigned sigh, she placed the arrow in the quiver and straightened in one fluid motion.

Turning back to Sira, she said, “It’s dead.”

[Sira]

Sira watched with silent approval as Cyrill dismounted and fought the urge to fall down. It was something she had seen happen to many first-timers and it was no small credit to her that she managed to stay on her feet. She briefly entertained the idea of having the woman as a permanent rider, but pushed it aside. Such thoughts were beyond the current situation. She barely even knew the girl.

Unfortunately the kill was not the cleanest of kills, but again considering it was her first time Cyrill did a fairly good job. She watched quietly as the deer took its last breath and Cyrill struggled with the idea of keeping the tool that took the animals life. Again Sira was impressed when Cyrill placed the arrow back in her quiver. Taking a life was no small thing, but a hunter needed to be able to handle it.

When she turned back to face her Sira dipped her head slightly in response, "Yes, it is. You did good. That deer will help feed our people. You should be proud." After a moment of silence Sira continues. "So? ...you wanna head back? I'm sure everyone will be surprised to see what we've got. Or do you want to stick around for a while. It's getting late so either way we don't need to do any more hunting tonight."

((Sorry for taking so long to respond. See signature for details.))

[Cyrill]

Proud. Cyrill was used to feeling proud for the work she did. Along with her fellow glass blowers, she created necessary glass utensils and pieces of beautiful art. She had her role to play in Wind Reach and she was proud of that role. But this pride...this pride felt different. She had killed an animal for the good of her people. The deer would help feed someone. It almost felt like she had saved someone from hunger, even though nobody was exactly starving in Wind Reach.

She nodded her head a few times to Sira’s question, still slightly dazed. “You’re right. We should head back.”

She moved back toward Sira, the question of how they were going to explain the deer to whoever would be there to receive it whirling in her mind. She stopped a few paces away from the eagle, cocking her head in the direction of the corpse. “Are you going to carry it in your claws?” she asked, the question of how they were going to actually get the deer to Wind Reach never actually entering her mind before.