Fall 21, 514 AV
around dawn
A few chimes remained before Syna would crest the eastern horizon, the sky a pale twilight grey which had yet to take on any tinge of blue. It was nonetheless light enough to tell sky from earth, tent from grass, grass from stone; light enough for Khida to venture out and review her snares. Although this had become customary over the past few seasons, part of her everyday routine, she remained dubious at the... effectiveness of trapping. Her snares still came back empty more often than not.
This morning proved in keeping with that trend.
First, she ventured down to where a small spring bubbled to the surface. It formed a muddy pool bracketed by exposed stones, still shrunken after the summer drought, whose waters sank back into the earth without flowing anywhere. Frogs splashed noisily into it at her approach, but stealth was not the Kelvic's goal; sneaking would not change the state of her trap. She followed the thin line of a game trail worn into the grass, curving around the outlying rocks. It veered to cut through a gap between two stones, and it was there Khida had placed a snare, hoping the choke point presented by the stones would funnel something -- anything -- into the trap. The rocks also provided convenient anchors for the rope.
Unfortunately, all she had to show this morning was rope, shorter than she had left it, its end frayed from chewing. That was the other problem of snares: hers, at least, often failed to kill their captured prey, and many took advantage of the chance to gnaw themselves free. Frustrated, Khida collected the bit of rope, tucked it into a trouser pocket, and moved on.
Away from the spring, she made her way towards a clump of brush tucked down in a gully. Little chirping birds flitted through the thicket, working themselves into its deepest regions, places no human could easily get to. But under the brush, that was less secure, the shrubs reaching up and out towards the sun. In the gap beneath lay remnants of old nests, long since empty of chicks but a sign that ground birds took shelter here. The Kelvic had set two snares there, thin rope suspended on equally thin twigs and anchored to the trunk. One at neck level, hoping to snare a bird thusly; the other just above the ground, where her quarry might think nothing of treading in it.
Birds, at least, were not prone to chewing their way out of the traps. But it also seemed they had not sheltered here last night, for both of Khida's snares remained empty. The traps had not even caught a prairie dog or rabbit instead, or anything else that might sleep under brush. Intact as they were, she left those snares in place; later, she would return and perhaps find them full.
It was a discontented Kelvic who trudged back to Endrykas, her hands empty of all but air.
around dawn
A few chimes remained before Syna would crest the eastern horizon, the sky a pale twilight grey which had yet to take on any tinge of blue. It was nonetheless light enough to tell sky from earth, tent from grass, grass from stone; light enough for Khida to venture out and review her snares. Although this had become customary over the past few seasons, part of her everyday routine, she remained dubious at the... effectiveness of trapping. Her snares still came back empty more often than not.
This morning proved in keeping with that trend.
First, she ventured down to where a small spring bubbled to the surface. It formed a muddy pool bracketed by exposed stones, still shrunken after the summer drought, whose waters sank back into the earth without flowing anywhere. Frogs splashed noisily into it at her approach, but stealth was not the Kelvic's goal; sneaking would not change the state of her trap. She followed the thin line of a game trail worn into the grass, curving around the outlying rocks. It veered to cut through a gap between two stones, and it was there Khida had placed a snare, hoping the choke point presented by the stones would funnel something -- anything -- into the trap. The rocks also provided convenient anchors for the rope.
Unfortunately, all she had to show this morning was rope, shorter than she had left it, its end frayed from chewing. That was the other problem of snares: hers, at least, often failed to kill their captured prey, and many took advantage of the chance to gnaw themselves free. Frustrated, Khida collected the bit of rope, tucked it into a trouser pocket, and moved on.
Away from the spring, she made her way towards a clump of brush tucked down in a gully. Little chirping birds flitted through the thicket, working themselves into its deepest regions, places no human could easily get to. But under the brush, that was less secure, the shrubs reaching up and out towards the sun. In the gap beneath lay remnants of old nests, long since empty of chicks but a sign that ground birds took shelter here. The Kelvic had set two snares there, thin rope suspended on equally thin twigs and anchored to the trunk. One at neck level, hoping to snare a bird thusly; the other just above the ground, where her quarry might think nothing of treading in it.
Birds, at least, were not prone to chewing their way out of the traps. But it also seemed they had not sheltered here last night, for both of Khida's snares remained empty. The traps had not even caught a prairie dog or rabbit instead, or anything else that might sleep under brush. Intact as they were, she left those snares in place; later, she would return and perhaps find them full.
It was a discontented Kelvic who trudged back to Endrykas, her hands empty of all but air.
Common | Pavi | someone else
