Closed A Meeting in the Nighttime.

[Snaeha Datura]

|| 18th Summer, 514AV ||

Hunting was far from Snaeha's favourite task, but it was a necessary evil she had to undertake in order to fulfil the responsibilities to her Web. Fortunately, the warmth of the summer meant that there was plenty of in-season, ripe fruits for her family to dine on, so tonight's hunt should be a quick job.

It has been bells since the sun had sunk low behind the horizon, and yet the night breeze still had a warm touch on Snaeha's skin as she picked her way through the woods that surrounded the entrance to her home city. Her night vision was as good as any Symenestra, of course, but that didn't mean that Snaeha wasn't immune to the odd embarrassing stumble should she rush herself through the woody undergrowth.

There was life all around her, and for a chime Snaeha paused to admire the tiny sounds of the nighttime: leaves rustling, twigs snapping and insects humming or buzzing. Kalinor was a quiet place by and large, and so the sounds of the outside were always welcome to Snaeha's ears. A screech of a night owl knocked her back into focus; right, let's get hunting, then.

She was equipped with her shortbow, the only weapon Snaeha had any real training in. Close contact was not the way of her people in general, with their fine skin and delicate bones, but Snaeha was even more adverse to the mere idea (she may risk damaging her face!). She paused for a moment, considering where best to begin her hunt. Summertime meant lots of young rabbits and other mammals, but most of those would be in burrows right now - and she was hardly going to start digging, was she?

So eventually Snaeha deciding to hunt from the sky and, after selecting a tree, began to smoothly climb upwards, the rough surface of the bark perfect for her to pull up her light body. She inched her way up and around, finally stopping her ascent to shift her weight carefully along a thick, high tree branch. From her new vantage point, Snaeha could already see tiny bats flitting between the shadows of the nighttime, but such speedy little creatures would be far too quick for Snaeha to even try and hit with an arrow.

No; rather frustratingly, she would need to wait until something bigger - an owl, or fruit bat - came into view. In the meantime, she shrugged the short bow off her back and hung the quill on a stumpy branch to her left. Then she notched an arrow and pulled the bowstring to cheek-level, peering down the arrow shaft to ensure its straight positioning. Happy with her arrow placement, Snaeha lent backwards, her spine resting on the rough trunk of the tree, a leg either side of the branch she sat upon.

And so she began her wait.

|| Snaeha's speech || Snaeha's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Aranta]

Aranta took a deep breath of the night air as he maneuvred through the trees; he loved flying, in all forms, but flying through trees was certainly one of the most tricky forms. He had to be carefuly not to snag his wings on any tree branches, and he often had to think more than a few steps ahead, plan things out so that he wouldn't end up caught in the branches or worse, like on the ground with a broken wing. A small shudder skittered down his spine; of all fates that could befall a Zith, Aranta couldn't imagine a worse one. Without their wings, Zith only had their claws and their determination, and that wasn't always enough to stand against other races' weapons.

Pulled from his thoughts by the squeaking of bats, Aranta quickly landed on a branch, perching lightly on the balls of his feet. Zith had excellent night vision, and Aranta used his to take in his surroundings. Bats were flitting through the trees, going after bugs, the occassional owl would swoop by, but other than that, nearly nothing else moved. Still, Aranta was cautious to leave his perch again; something had the fur on the back of his neck standing on end. It wasn't anything specific, and was probably just another owl or something, but Aranta couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched.

Cautiously, Aranta moved from one branch to another, slightly higher up, hoping to get a better vantage point. It didn't yield much, and the nagging feeling wouldn't go away. Aranta was torn between what to do; he didn't want to return to the spider-people's colony so soon, but he also had no desire to stay out here when his instincts were telling him that something wasn't quite right with the situation.

[Snaeha Datura]

Hunting really was dull that night. Only a handful of owls were swooping low enough amongst the trees to be within shooting distance, but with just four arrows with her, Snaeha did not want to risk missing her target. No, she would wait until the birds - still cautious from her climbing up the tree - had regained their confidence and were flying closer to her tree branch.

She concentrated on keeping still, bow at the ready and arrow notched, waiting o let it fly. But she was a restless sort of woman, and within mere chimes she was growing impatient. She twitched her head to get a couple of strands of hair from out of her face; she rolled her shoulder in preparation of her big kill; she cracked her back and twisted to the left to really stretch out the dull ache that had already started to twinge her back.

Except as she twisted her shoulders to the left - arrow quiver still resting on her cheekbone - she saw something that was entirely different to the prey she was hunting.

Someone else had taken a place up in a tree not ten feet from her own vantage point. Snaeha frowned - she was sure that as she was climbing her tree, she was the only person in the immediate area, so this mystery figure had appeared without her noticing (which was not unlikely, as she had been far too busy thinking how boring hunting was to realise). She watched the figure for a short while, establishing who they were and whether they posed any threat her.

Zith!

She startled at the realisation. The winged-people were not completely unknown to spend time in the area surrounding Kalinor, and many even resided within the city itself. Regardless, Snaeha had never socialised with one before; she frowned upon the rumoured temperament of their people, with their passion for killing and spilling precious blood without good reason.

Snaeha sniffed haughtily. The Zith did not appear to have noticed her - proof her branch was superior to his, ha! - and as long as she did not catch his attention, she saw no reason that the two had to get any closer and actually interact.

Something white moved to the right of the Zith's tree, and Snaeha (now feeling smug about being the superior race), released her arrow just as she was repositioning herself to aim at the owl. The arrow flew straight and true, thudding right into the trunk of the Zith's tree. It was the worse shot she had ever released, and Snaeha was sure she heard that damn owl actually laugh at her.

Just as annoying, the Zith would undoubtedly notice her now -- perhaps he had even witnessed her completely failed attempt at hunting.

Oh, the humility.... she thought bitterly as she sunk lower onto her branch, desperate to conceal herself best she could.

|| Snaeha's speech || Snaeha's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Aranta]

Aranta let out a startled screech when an arrow flew into the trunk near him; had he not pulled his wings in closer to his body, it would have pierced one of them.

The arrow, however, gave him a direction to search in, and confirmed the feeling he'd had that someone else was out here with him. Lining himself up with the arrow, Aranta turned and squinted through the trees-- he thought he saw something move a few trees away, and he quickly eschewed the idea of going from tree to tree in favor of simply gliding over. He landed a few branches above whoever had shot at him, and he quickly tucked his wings in and laid himself flat on his branch, peering over the edge. A few branches below, he could see a figure curled in against the trunk-- he thought it was one of the spider-people, a Symenestra, but he wasn't sure, not with the way the shadows fell in the person's hiding place.

"Hello?" he called in Common; he wasn't very good at Symenos, and he wasn't going to try to communicate in that unless he was certain he was talking to a Symenestra.

[Snaeha Datura]

Snaeha swore at the piercing screech she laid flat on her tree branch. If she ever needed confirmation that she had blown her own cover, that screech was crystal clear. But she did not move, did not flee - despite her instincts telling to do so.

In fact, before she could even consider moving, there was a rustle of leaves, a creak of a branch, and she peered upwards to see the Zith actually flying. Oh rather, sliding through the short space of sky between his tree and - Snaeha realised with horror - her tree. Every muscle of her body tensed, her eyes remaining fixed in the patch of open sky the Zith had passed through. Her new friend was watching her, why else would he have moved to a better vantage point.

Was she going to end up being the prey?

She felt like a baby rabbit; stuck in a frozen state of not knowing whether to flee or not. Her heart was beating high in her chest, almost in her throat. Should she say something? A plea, perhaps, to try and appeal to the Zith's human side (did they even have a human side?).

When he spoke, Snaeha sat up so sharply she almost knocked herself backwards off her branch. The voice was so... normal sounding! Not at all the gruff, growling voice she had expected the Zith people to speak with.

What are the chances I've bumped into the only Zith who is a vegetarian...?

She looked up above herself, searching the higher branches for a shadowy shape. When she finally saw his outline - those strange wings folded inwards so they almost look like a cloak - she raised her right hand in a tiny wave. "Hello." She replied, her voice filled with caution and wariness, "I'm sorry for almost shooting you. I didn't mean to. I'm -- not the best archer."

Idiot, why did you say that? a panicked voice screamed in her mind, now he knows you're vulnerable!

"I mean I could shoot you if I wanted to." Snaeha added hurriedly, trying to sound as blasé as possible, completely failing to portray the image of a cool huntress she was aiming for.

|| Snaeha's speech || Snaeha's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Aranta]

Aranta tilted his head curiously; the person below him was female, and she seemed... uneasy. Not that Aranta could blame her; he knew what the Zith's reputation was. Still, he was curious, and Zith did not entertain thoughts of eating things that made them curious. "I am Aranta," he said, gesturing to himself. "Who are you?"

The moonlight wasn't conducive to making out smaller details, but he could tell that the woman was much smaller than himself, and now he felt reasonably confident labeling her a Symenestra-- except for the hair. How did a Symenestra have hair like that, that looked like dried blood? Part of him wanted to get closer, get a better look-- but the defensiveness of her last words cautioned him against that. He wouldn't learn anything if she attacked him. "I do not eat spider-people," he felt compelled to clarify. "Too gritty." He'd had some, once, before he left his colony-- their tough skin tended to break into tiny pieces, rather like an eggshell, and it was annoying to try to pick out, and if a Zith missed more than a few pieces, they would suffer from an irritated stomach, and it was... painful to get the pieces out of their system.

[Snaeha Datura]

Snaeha had always been told to not give her name to random strangers, let alone those of a race known to eat others. But this Zith seemed to be strangely conversational, and surely if he was going to pounce and kill her, he would have done already?

He offered his name, and Snaeha became all the more sure that he posed no threat to her wellbeing. That said, it still unnerved her how he was so far above her, and being balanced on a tree branch was not conducive for a quick getaway, should she need one.

Slowly, so as not to arouse some hunting instinct that may lie dormant in this stranger, Snaeha began to slither back down to ground level. When her feet touched the grass again, she shifted away from the tree quickly, mainly because she didn't want him to pounce on her, but also to get a better view of Aranta. Her good nighttime eyesight meant she could easily begin to pick out his facial features.

"I am Snaeha." Her words were more confident now, though the short bow was still gripped in both hands.

A nervous laughter escaped her lips when he commented about not eating her kind. She was of course relieved, but also slightly unnerved. She had hoped, rather foolishly, that perhaps the rumours of the Zith people eating other races were inaccurate. His statement about their grittiness (which Snaeha was sure did not apply to her own skin, moisturised each evening) proved otherwise. "I am relieved to hear that, Aranta. " She said, hoping he would be a gentleman and join her down on ground level. "Do you live in Kalinor? I have not seen you around the city before."

|| Snaeha's speech || Snaeha's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Aranta]

Aranta watched the Symenestra climb down, and only after she had finished speaking did he descend, ignoring the branches in favor of simply jumping, using his wings to break his fall at the last second so that he landed in a crouch. He straightened, and then wrapped his wings around himself in such a way that they looked like a cloak; he'd learned that most other non-Zith that he'd met were uncomfortable if he did not, although he did not see why; he was a good-looking Zith, he knew. Not the handsomest, but before he'd left he'd had several females hint that if he wanted to fight for the right to mate with them, they would root for him.

"I do," he said, in response to her question. "Though I spend the days sleeping, and I do not like staying inside the city at night when I can fly outside." Now that he was closer, he could see that this Symenestra seemed even less like the spider-people of the rest of the city. "You do not look like the other spider-people," he said curiously, tilting his head to the side. "Why?"

[Snaeha Datura]

She tried to not wince, or step away, when the Zith stood to his full height - and ended up doing both. He was so much taller, broader, more muscular, than she. Of course she had expected as much given their respective races, but it still surprised her. It also made her all the more wary, though she did not want to show it. Until he folded his wings away, Snaeha was marvelling at them; now they are the ultimate accessory!

His comment about her appearance absolutely delighted her. It was her crimson hair that separated her from the rest of her people, she knew. And there was nothing she appreciated more than knowing she stood out against the crowd. She smiled prettily in response, a pale hand twirling a strand of those dark red locks, "My mother was an Inartan woman," she said, allowing herself to look coyly up at him -- before realising who (or rather, what) she was flirting with. The hand that had been toying with her hair dropped obediently to her side. She returned his curious look with one of her own, "You do not act in the way your people are portrayed." She snapped her mouth shut quickly after the words came out, suddenly quite nervous that she had insulted him.

"It is a good night for flying," she murmured, trying to distract him from her previous statement, "or so I imagine."

|| Snaeha's speech || Snaeha's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Aranta]

The Zith did not miss how the Symenestra stepped back when he straightened, but he didn't make a move towards her. "In-ar-tan?" Aranta repeated, shaping his mouth around the unfamiliar word. "What is that?" He was not offended by her statement that he was different from most Zith. "Many Zith are hungry and like to fight," he said. "I am curious." Not to say that he didn't enjoy a good hunt or fight as much as the next Zith, but they weren't his top priority.

He nodded; "The night is clear," he said. "No clouds." Clouds could seriously mess with perception, even for a creature with such excellent night vision. They cast shadows, deepening existing and creating new ones, and helping the landscape to lie to the Zith, particularly younger ones. Aranta clearly remembered one night where he'd finally given up on flying, his wings and shoulders sore from ramming into trees, in favor of walking back to the colony.