Day 61, Season Spring, 505 AV
Nathaniel was up early that day. Syna had barely risen and he was already out of bed, padding quietly so as not to wake his sisters or his mother sleeping peacefully in their rooms. Even this early in the morning, Nate knew that any loud creaks of the floorboards might wake up Kat, who was a notoriously fitful sleeper who woke at the slightest sound. Tiptoeing his way past their rooms, he quickly gathered his gear, packing up his backpack, rucksack, bow and quiver, as well as his father's Kukri which he stuffed into his belt. Yesterday had been an incredibly disappointing hunt, and Nate was determined to make today better.
How exactly he was going to do that was a different story though. Nate decided that hunting rabbits was definitely not something he could accomplish with a bow. At least not at his current level of accuracy with the weapon. After the debacle yesterday he figured the best chance he'd have to capture the little creatures would be to trap them. Except he had no idea how to trap rabbits. Which left him in a quandary.
Deciding to leave the issue of how to capture rabbits for another time, Nate shook his head slightly to clear it of the cobwebs still inside as he strode out the gates of Syliras toward the Bronze Woods. The cool morning air was quite bracing, and he smiled slightly despite the fact that the cold would do his bowstring no favors; nor would the wet dew the morning often brought. Taking care to string his bow properly, Nate turned toward the large, imposing trees of the forest. The long shadows cast by the not-quite-fully-risen Syna made the trees seem larger and more foreboding somehow, the deep purple of night not quite banished by the bright rays, clinging to the forest floor like a carpet.
Nate checked the ground to see if there was anything worth seeing, but in the dim light, tracking was difficult to impossible. Human eyes were simply not built for such work, and after a few chimes of fruitless searching, he simply leaned against a tree and took out his kukri from his belt, running a finger over the smooth side. If he allowed himself, Nate would remember the night he received this blade. It should have been a moment of joy. It was anything but.
Banishing the depressing thoughts from his head, Nate strode forward and took a few careful steps forward, holding the kukri in front of him defensively. The sun had not risen, and until it did, he might as well practice with his melee weapon of choice. The curved blade was excellent for stabbing since it curved toward the opponent, and Nate lunged forward, stabbing the air in front of him with the point of the curved, single-edge knife. He noted that he did not need to bend his wrist in order for the end to still go into the enemy, allowing him to stab forward with less effort than would otherwise be required of him.
Obviously, there was a long cutting edge along the inner curvature, and Nate made a few practice swings through the air, slicing the morning dew as the kukri whistled past. The way the kukri knife was weighted, much of the weight was on the end, so the blade felt slightly heavy as Nate swung it, as though the knife would spring out of his hand. He surmised it was weighted like this to lend weight to the chopping motion, allowing the blade to slice through thicker things, like dense underbrush, or muscle, or bone.