Begs the Question (Clyde)

[Kalina]

67th day of Summer, 514AV

Her pace through the Forest of Thorns was slow; she had never been in here… at least, she had never been in the forest properly. She might have stumbled briefly through it during the first night she had arrived upon the island, but that night had long since become a blur for her. She had been exhausted and frightened, and she had done everything she could to forget those few bells of terror, especially now that she was safe with Annalisa.

Today, however, she was not traipsing around the wilds in human form. No, she felt safe and secure, confident even, in her more favoured ocelot form. Since Annalisa had taken her in, she had tried her best to avoid detection, as the Mage woman had suggested, for her own safety. More often than not, that meant that she was to remain in her room most of the time, which she was happy to do, such was the fear of the putrid smelling Nuits that the Chaon curse – unbeknownst to Kalina – had cultivated within her.

But she was hungry, and she knew that she had to be somewhat self-sufficient; Anna wasn’t like her old Master, or even Amelia, who would ensure that she had been fed each day. So she found herself out, in the early morning, a good distance away from the relative safety of the Citadel. The stench of the Nuits had disappeared from her nose, and she was left only to experience the new scents that the island offered her. She wondered what she might find – whether there were rats, or even bucks, for her to find. And, always, she desperately wished that she would not encounter something so terrible as the giant black canine that had chased her all those days away.

The Forest of Thorns was more dense than any hunting grounds that the young Kelvic had ever experienced, but her hunger drove her forwards, and the grey landscape gave her own grey fur the cover that she thought she needed to remain undetected by the eyes of any of her prey. She stayed low to the ground, which was easy for her, given her strong muscles and small stature, yet she was still catching herself occasionally on the long, sharp thorns that were so frequent that they were impossible to avoid.

However, she was young, stubborn and, luckily, agile – she persevered, moss green eyes wide as they scanned the spaces through the dense undergrowth for any sign of movement. Even though her ocelot eyesight was incomparable to any other feline or canine, she was struggling to spy out any prey so, this time, she relied heavily on her sense of hearing and smell. She could hear her own footfalls, which she tried hard to keep as quiet as possible as she walked. Only a few times did her large paws break a fallen twig, or crumple dead leaves upon the ground; she was getting better at remaining silent.

Fortunately for her, the breaze was heading downwind: the direction she was facing, so she would be able to smell her prey long before it smelt her. For now, she could distinguish no distinct scent of live flesh, but she continued to stalk slowly through the undergrowth. Chimes passed, and occasionally she would stop, and her body would be still, save her head which would sharply turn, her ears pricked to hear something other than the wind blowing lightly through the bushes and trees. Once or twice, her direction changed, when the undergrowth became too dense for even her small feline form to twist through with grace. She wondered if she might try to climb up on the trees; if she could avoid the thorns, or if the low branches would even take her weight.

Eventually, her nose caught something… she wasn’t sure what, though she could tell that it was living, and that it was dinner. Her pace slowed even more, and her attention was focused on remaining silent and keeping the scent fresh in her nose. Her head was close to the ground, as was best to track her new prey, but having her body close to the ground meant that the predator could avoid bumping the branches above her, because the rustling that would follow would undoubtedly announce to her prey (any anything else) where she was. Her movements was now nigh on silent; now that she had caught the scent of her meal, she was not about to let it get away.

*

[Clyde Sullins]

67 Summer 514 Clyde stood in the woods, hammer in his hands, and watched for motion. He was not horrible with the hammers, hefting its small shape in his grip, the solid steel sledge on the top which was meant for knocking into things. Its handle wrapped in leather coming downward and fitting his grip. But neither was he great with them. Truth be told he was far closer to horrible with them, than he was close to being good with it. It was a bit understandable that he wouldn't have as much time to spend on using it as other things. He was a mage first and foremost, a man of magic and spells and weaving djed. Not of arm and strength and pounding. Well a bit of pounding, since he was a Magecrafter, but handling the hammers in that magic did not involve strength of arm, but more strength of conviction. So it was on this day that he stood a bit into the thorny woods on Sahova, in a small bare patch, holding the hammer in his right hand, deciding what to do with it, while Cha rested in his off hand. As usual he had his pack with him, carrying his basic glyphing supplies, along with an extra hammer. The enchanted robes wrapped about him helped with the thorns, to keep from being stabbed or scratched, but that only helped with what was covered. He already had a few small scratches on the backs of his hands, and one on his neck. Honestly he wasn't sure what he expected to find. He had his mortar with him, in case he found some thing to mash up and make into soulmist. He could gift it to Elaine next time he saw her. But that was more of a side note, not something he would do for sure. Rye rested on the ground nearby, lazing on a patch of ground he had miraculously found that was devoid of thorns. Perhaps the only such patch in the entire forest. He appeared to be resting, but in fact was just sitting, his ears tensed and listening. He was a good guard dog, and he was well skilled in detecting things that might sneak up on Clyde. Much better than Clyde himself. Still, he was a serious dog, not trained to play or jump about, but instead seemed to have a somewhat serious demeanor, at least if dogs could have such things. Perhaps this was simply Clyde projecting onto the animal, humanizing it, and seeing it in terms of if it was human. But it wasn't, and more likely than not it simply was as it was due to its training. Rye pricked up a ear for a moment, raising himself a bit higher, and looking about. Clyde looked to, but did not see anything. Tensing with his hammer held over his right shoulder, ready to be tossed, Clyde tried to see what Rye had sensed. All he had to do was bring the hammer straight down, or more forward with a downward swinging motion, and it should fly right at his target. Suddenly their was motion, Rye raised himself up fully and was tensed, and Clyde saw it, the motion, almost so fast he didn't see it. A forward swing of his hand, bringing it down and forward, mostly forward, releasing the hammer as it reached the bottom of the swinging motion, and the hammer flew... And missed. With a crunch Clyde saw the hammer strike a branch, saw the branch snap and fall to the ground, and the hammer fell along with it. He'd need to extricate it in a moment. In the meantime he saw motion as a tiny little thing with too many eyes jumped through the air, from one tree to another, and then vanished out of sight in a series of jumps. Once Rye settled down, un-tensed and began to rest again, Clyde moved forward to extract his hammer. Using Cha to push things about, he tried to extract his hammer without being overly cut up by thorns. “Whose idea was it Rye to go here? Oh right, mine...”

[Kalina]

*

Even with dilated pupils, the thick undergrowth was such that she could only see the occasional hole through the branches. This path looked as if it had been traversed by humans, of other hunters, and it had a slightly more defined route, though Kalina was still finding the thorns to be a prickly issue. It was hard to detect true movement, as her eyes caught every leaf that fluttered to the ground, and every blanch that did creak under the pressure of the weak wind. But the scent was growing stronger; she could no longer only smell it in the air, but she could now also smell it on the ground, between the leaves and soul and mud. Whatever it was - and she imagined that it was something small - a rabbit, perhaps, had come this way not too long ago.

Nose to the ground, Kalina was well aware that she had never yet been lucky enough to track an animal by their scent to the end. At some point she had always lost it, and it had always only been luck that had granted her prey from the hunt. This time, however, the young ocelot knew that she did not have the luxury of luck; she would not find a trail again, nor see anything in this thick forest. Her steps were slow, to allow her the chance to ensure that she was following the right trail - feeling impatient today, she was not about to lose what could be her only meal.

The slow tracking pace also ensured that her pawfalls were soft and almost silent. Her paws were proportionally larger than most other feline breeds, which made them perfect for silent stalking. The ignorant, uneducated feline didn't understand how her wide-set paws distributed weight evenly on the ground... but all she had to know that that it ensured that she could move quietly, and each time she set them down slowly, in an attempt to avoid the snap of a broken twig, or the crumple or dying leaves below her feet.

The smell continued to grow stronger, and she knew that it must be close. Her pace slowed even more, as she did everything she could to ensure that she did not alert her prey to the presence of a predator. A few more steps, however, and she stopped completely - here, the vines and thorny branches were to think for even her to try to edge her way through, especially without scaring the rabbit away before she would be able to get through. A quick glance to the left, and then to the right, told her that it was just as dense on either side. For a moment, she considered giving up; something told her that her prey was just literally on the other side and, through a small opening, she made out the quick movements of grey fur scurry past. She was so close, but she could not reach it.

Slow as ever, she began to back away in disappointment, but then her eyes caught sight of a low, wide branch, one that looked strong enough to carry her weight. In one, quick fluid motion, she pushed her body weight back onto her hind legs and used the stored power there to jump up onto the branch, claws extended in preparation for contact. It wasn't completely silent, but it wasn't far off, and Kalina did not move for about half a chime, as she listened to see whether or not she had been noticed by her prey.

There was no doubt by her movements, and the way she gripped the tree, that Kalina was a novice climber, but it was instinctually natural to her, so she adapted as quickly as she could, and shimmied along the branch, over the denser part where she couldn't have gotten through. The thorns along the branch were not the easiest to avoid, especially whilst trying to remain silent; if she looked on the branch behind her, she might have seen the droplets of blood from thorns, which mirrored the pain that she was trying to ignore, which shot up her legs every few steps.

It was then that she realised why the bushes below were so thick - the barrier created some kind of a den on the ground for the rat. With wide eyes, she watched them on their antics for a chime or two as her long tail swished behind her. But she knew it wouldn't be long before they might catch her scent, so she picked her target and leapt.

Though every other moment of her hunting had been planned meticulously and carefully executed, this part had always been a little haphazard. There were mere seconds between a pounce and the kill, and Kalina had not yet mastered the ability to make a clean kill every time. Jumping from the branch, the three rats below had had no time to scarper, and she easily landed on her intended victim. It struggled beneath her paws, which caused it needless pain, before the ocelot had the sense to nip the jugular and kill it. The harsh breathing of another alerted the ocelot kitten to the presence of another, which must have been caught by her uncoordinated fall to the ground. The padded over and stared at it, watching the tiny ribs rise and fall in jolted motions, the veridian blood lining the evident wound.

She didn't kill it, however, as another sound alerted her to the presence of something else, and she leapt back up onto the branch from which she just jumped to gain a better vantage point. There, she saw a canine, and a guttural growl emanated from deep in her throat, warding it off. Behind it, however, she saw a figure, a human, one she recognised. Kalina's transformation was instant, and bright light signalled the loss of grey fur and morphing of figure to reveal a human child, one who appeared two or three years older to the man. With a wince, she felt the new stab of thorns in her now much more tender, human flesh, and with a tone of joy marred with disbelief and confusion, she whispered, "Cly... Clyde?"

*

[Clyde Sullins]

Clyde hadn't been paying full attention as he recovered his tossed hammer, focused instead on the task. Perhaps if he had, he might have noticed the rising of Rye once more, his low growl, and his focus on something off in the undergrowth. As it was, when he saw a flash of light his attention was drawn, coincidentally about the same time he was unbending from retrieving his tossed weapon. Standing up straight he turned to face the light, or where it had been, only to see... A person... A young person, but still a person all the same. "Cly... Clyde?" Tensing up Clyde tried to recall who the person was, where he knew her from, but his mind seemed to be drawing a blank. But clearly she knew him, and so if nothing else they were associated, or had met before... But that didn't really help much in narrowing it down, in figuring out who she was. Even if her look hadn't been aged and different to a degree than the last time he'd seen he, there was no way for sure to know if he'd have recognized her. As it was he puzzled at her, trying to recall who she was, why she knew him, or what she was doing out in the woods. Instinctively his first impulse was to reach out with his aura sight, and inspect her. A well practiced action, he felt within for his djed, willed it to build and surge and rise, flowing out through him, swirling. It rose, built up in concentration, and then surged up his arm and into Cha. From her skin it then radiated outward, his aura sight lancing outward towards the girl, latching onto and expanding over her, ensconcing her within it as he pulled at her with his djed sight. He saw across her skin, the recent cuts from the thorns, not that he knew their provenance. He also noticed that she was stark naked. Considering she'd appeared suddenly in such a wild area, and was naked, his mind immediately went to her being a kelvic. Who else but such a creature would be out in such a place without clothes. The supposition was supported by several cases before of the same thing happening, so it seemed a logical enough deduction considering past experience. He kept his aura sight on her, soaking it in, willing it to manifest from Cha, and to surge forward and into and through the girl. Though he was still unsure who she was. “Uh... yes, I am Clyde... Do we know each other?”