[Training/Self-Mod] Hunting At Dawn (Kamalia Please)

[Gromhir]

The moment they were out of the city, Gromhir removed what little clothing he had on. The Kelvic hadn’t liked the idea of wearing clothes but understood that many did not see the world as he did. His thoughts and musings over what had happened the past few days dissolved into the dark recesses of his mind, as the wild smells of island reached his nose once more. His body broke down into a mass of white lights that shifted gracefully into the form of a large white canine. The Ivaski was a powerful and intelligent creature and Gromhir was no exception to that rule.

His ice blue eyes took in the sights around him. The forests of the White Isle gave it its name for the trees were indeed white as fresh fallen snow. It struck Gromhir as odd that they would be such a colour but he cared not. The smells of the forest told him that this was no different to any others on Mizahar, except for the colour. The leaves swayed in the ocean breeze bringing in the smell of the sea. The ground was still soft with the morning dew of Fall. The instant the Kelvic’s paw hit the soft soil, his body and himself relaxed.

His tail flicked up as he barked in happiness at actually being out of civilisation in what felt like an eternity. The passage of time was different for Konti and Kelvics. A day for a Konti was a mere spec of sand in the hourglass of their lives but each day for a Kelvic was precious and a long time. Gromhir had been through a period in his life when surviving for a day was a great achievement and although more experienced now, he still knew that everyday he survived was an accomplishment that could not be taken from him. He was so used to living in constant threat that being away from it was almost boring.

Gathering his wits after the brief out burst of joy, Gromhir sniffed the air and listened to the sounds around him. He could hear the birds in the trees singing. He could hear the closer ones ruffling their feathers. He smelt smaller creatures as they scurried about their business gathering fruit from the forest. But the scent of larger prey was elusive. He shifted back to human form in a crouching position. He looked to Kamalia.

“I cannot smell any real prey,” there was a feral gleam in his eye once more. He felt far more comfortable and happy here. In fact, he almost radiated it. “We will have to look for tracks.” He wasn’t sure how much she knew about tracks or signs of animals but was giving her the benefit of the doubt.

[Kamalia Timandre]

The sun was still young and gentle. There’s a mystique to the beauty of the Isle’s coniferous forests whenever Syna touched their silver-tipped pines with her bullion fingers. Although the Kennelmistress had instructed Kamalia to bring Gromhir to her each morning, the konti thought it wise to see how her kelvic partner would fare on his own. In time, when Kamalia would have to answer the Call, Gromhir would be following her around, and without the pack to support the young kelvic, he would have to hunt with her instead. Now was the perfect time for practice. She was out of it, after all.

The konti mage literally had to run to keep up with the pace of her kelvic friend. She could not help but watch as the man pulled down what little clothing he had on. Looking at the male’s unclothed form made her uncomfortable, but she would have to get used to this, if she were to keep him for a time. At last, the kelvic’s body diminished into tiny lights that gracefully shifted into the shape of an ivaski. Kamalia smiled; she was more comfortable when Gromhir treaded in his canine form. He looked more imposing this way—standing approximately three and a half feet tall, and almost seven feet in length. She loved his regal silver-white mane, those proud strong jaws and the eyes that sparked with intelligence and cunning.

She felt a tinge of envy as the white beast barked and flicked his tail about, happy being out of the somber realm of Mura once again. Finally, she was in his world, his territory, a place where he would be more at home with. Unlike the konti who endeared to themselves shelter and peace, the kelvic loved the freedom provided by the wilderness, plus a little bit of danger to add to the thrill.

Kamalia was no stranger to hunting. She had hunted with packs of ivaski in the past, but Gromhir, as a kelvic, probably devised more cunning ways than a mere animal. The fact that he could seem to communicate with her mentally would make hunting so much easier. She studied Whitemane as he worked his keen senses: sniffing, eyeing and perhaps even feeling every movement within the vicinity. Kamalia’s fingers inched to the scabbard of her suvai as her eyes darted around for a worthy prey.

Gromhir shifted again into his human form, eyes gleaming and his face seemed to radiate a profound joy and a zest for life and adventure. Kamalia knew little about deer-tracking, but she remembered a tip from another huntress once, “I’m sure you know of this, but a White Isle buck often uses trees for target practice. There would be telltale signs.”

[Gromhir]

Gromhir looked to Kamalia. His deep blues meeting her vibrant violets, he smiled at her, an actual smile that almost seemed genuine. “I know but thank you,” Gromhir wasn’t sure if she was trying to test his understanding or not but he was trying all the same. “The problem is, the marks could be from several moons ago. Tracking requires more precise measures.” Gromhir turned his eyes to the forest around them as they meandered further into the depths of the white woods. The beauty of the woods was lost on Gromhir for he did not compare Nature’s gifts.

Gromhir stopped suddenly, turning away from their path. He drew in a deep breath, carrying with it the scents around them. “Tracks,” without another word, his body broke down into lights once more and formed the Ivaski that truly embodied the feral Kelvic. Gromhir continued on this new path. There were no visible signs of any tracks at first until they came upon a small pile of animal droppings.

Gromhir was becoming used to shifting once more. It was effortless for him anyway but as he became more used to his human form, it seemed to become easier. Once more, he looked up to his bondmate. Could he call her bondmate now? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t truly know how it felt to have a bondmate. He just knew that nobody was like Kamalia. She was as much his teacher and he was her protector. Maybe in time, she would learn to love the wilds as he did? If that were true, would he learn to feel more at home in Mura? So many questions distracted him from the task at hand.

“These are the best tracks,” Gromhir had dropped his voice to quieter tones. “You can always tell how far a herd is away by the droppings they leave. These are still fresh. The herd won’t be far off.” Gromhir looked up and around them. “They look to be heading north.”

[Kamalia Timandre]

The konti maiden smiled and merely nodded when the kelvic told her that telltale signs on trees could be unreliable at times. It dawned upon her suddenly that while a konti huntress would track her prey by inspecting marks upon tree trunks or using her goddess-given talents of divination to aid her, an ivaski would trail prey using its heightened senses and beastly instincts, making them more efficient hunters than any konti. She longed to observe how a kelvic, one capable of human intellect and possessing the fatal instincts and cunning of a beast of prey, tracked and hunted for food. The young adventuress smiled as she considered the possibilities, eager to see Gromhir In action.

As she observed her friend closely, Kamalia noted another distinct behavior: while adventurers that hailed from distant lands would already widen their eyes and gape in awe at the ethereal, dream-like beauty of the Silver Woods, Gromhir seemed to treat the forest no differently, just like any other ivaski. It made Kamalia marvel if her kelvic friend had been in more wondrous forests or places, or he simply had little to no appreciation of beauty at all. Kamalia was inclined to believe the latter for he never looked fascination by the mystique and splendor of the City of Mura or even the siren allure of konti women.

She quietly followed after the kelvic until they came upon a pile of animal excrement. When the kelvic stared up at her, Kamalia saw uncertainty in his eyes. Through the arcane geas that tied the couple together mysteriously, Kamalia could faintly sense (rather than guess) the surface of his thoughts. She felt that the kelvic was mulling over his connection with her—his position and his significance in her life. For only about two days they had spent together, Kamalia could feel the bond getting stronger as if Avalis herself were gently weaving their destinies together into a grand, single tapestry. Kamalia’s delicate lips curved into a supportive smile—a smile to reassure her bondmate that he occupied a prominent place in her heart. It was strange, but enchanting.

When Gromhir relayed to her about his tracking observations, Kamalia nodded and half whispered, “Have you any plan on hand, then?”

[Gromhir]

Gromhir could almost feel Kamalia’s thoughts in the back of her mind, but there was something driving him on. He was in his element here and it showed. His feral instincts had taken over and though he knew that Kamalia was with him, he didn’t pay her maybe as much mind as he should. Gromhir’s gaze fixated on a point that Kamlia would not be able to pick out. Through their bond, she knew also that was where the herd of animals lay. It was never said or even implied as to the fact that it was that direction, Kamalia just knew.

Gromhir seemed to rejoin the reality of the scene around them rather abruptly as he turned to her once more after her question. He cocked his head at her in the same way a dog would look confused at their owner. Then he looked down at his hands, looking for this plan before he realised what she meant. “Human communication is strange,” he replied. The idea of figurative language was another thing Gromhir did not understand. Why didn’t humans just say what they meant?

“The obvious way would be to isolate one of the herd,” you could Gromhir’s mind working through his eyes. It was almost as if it was a struggle for him. “I would ambush one and hope to catch it if I was alone. If you got the herd to flee, I could trap one of the stragglers.” Whether it was Gromhir’s doing or something else, Kamalia could see in her mind a clouded scene. Two white creatures in a graceful dance of death.

Gromhir was aware of how Kamalia felt around him and didn’t stand up while in his human form. Unclothed as he was, he didn’t want to make Kamalia uncomfortable again.

((Sorry Kam, I know its not much))

[Kamalia Timandre]

The young konti mage felt it. She knew where the herd of animals lay, as if this was something she knew by instinct. Kamalia could tell that this “instinct” was entirely unlike her keen Sight as she sensed that there were no Gnostic energies involved. Whenever her Gnosis—the Divination—worked, the konti maiden always felt a strange sensation reverberating through her body, as if the essences of Mother Avalis herself seep into her physical core, then all of the sudden, she just knew. This one was different, however, as these instincts felt more mundane and feral. Flitting quietly and ethereally like white ghosts in the silver woods, Kamalia just knew in which direction they should be hunting, even though her bondmate never uttered a single word. Her violet eyes distant as she marveled: was this among one of the many strange effects of the arcane link she shared with the kelvic?

Then suddenly, Gromhir stopped, giving her a seemingly puzzled stare. Kamalia reciprocated this with an inquisitive glance, and to her surprise and amusement, the man looked down at his own palms, looking for this “plan in hand” as if the plan was written all over the palm of his hands. It was ridiculous, silly and charmingly adorable. She pursed her lips, trying her best to stifle her mirth and keep herself from bursting into a loud laughter. Though she was not the only one, the young seer realized how often she used figures of speech when conversing in Common. Kamalia slightly raised the corners of her mouth in an awkward smile for a reply. She made a silent promise to Gromhir that she would someday teach him figurative language.

As quickly as the thoughts of promises came, they were chased away from her mind by a hazy scene of two white creatures in a struggle for survival. The vision was short-lived and the outcome clouded, but the konti girl nodded approvingly to his proposal. The prospect of action excited her and she thrilled to see her kelvic friend in action. A warm, gentle wind from the northern lake breezed through the silver forest and the woods begin to whisper clandestine words.

[Gromhir]

“It’s settled then,” Gromhir gestured in the direction he would go. “I’ll circle to the east and be ready for whatever it is you have planned. Nature protect you.” He hesitated for a second frozen on the spot, looking at his bondmate. He was wrestling with himself, that much was evident. It was not nature that should protect Kamalia, it was him. But the need to hunt burned inside him and eventually his instincts took over.

Turning as his body was engulfed in white light and formed the powerful form of the Ivaski, the Kelvic took off in his intended direction. He kept his eyes fixed on the path in front of him, he had to be ready for when Kamalia set the herd off long before she did. He didn’t notice the other tracks along his path.

The herd was not far away. Gromhir watched them in a small clearing. There weren’t many, maybe a dozen or so. Their white coats reflecting Syna’s morning glow making them seem golden and blessed creatures. Gromhir had hunted in a pack very few times and the urge to simply burst from his place and attack was hard to resist.

His gaze fell on Kamalia as she approached. He could barely see her but the bond let him know exactly where she was. He put a padded paw forwards ready to strike. His tail flicked side to side in anticipation.

[Kamalia Timandre]

When the oak is felled the whole forest echoes with it fall, but a hundred acorns are sown in silence by an unnoticed breeze. The sky is held up by trees—if the forest is felled, the sky-ceiling of the world collapses. Nature and man perish together. The mists of dawn slowly thickened while the two hunters ventured deeper into the heart of the silver forest. Long shafts of morning sunlight beamed through the pale canopy of the woods, bathing the wilderness below in an ethereal glow. Walking in the forest was like walking in a dream. To a non-konti, everything in the coniferous wonderland was an enigma, from the bell-shaped flowers to the silver-tipped pines and to the luminous trunks of everwhite. There was a familiar scent of pine and oak, accented by the fragrance of lilies and magnolias, and there was music to the twittering of birds, the rustling of leaves and the chirping of tiny, incandescent insects. When she was a little more than a child, Kamalia always frequented these woods on her own; today was different. Hunting with the kelvic male held a deeper meaning and symbolism to her. To the young konti mage, it felt like entering the forest for the first time once again. Her friend’s heart was the forest, towering trees loomed high overhead casting lacy silhouettes upon her alabaster skin. She saw herself in a giant labyrinth of trees and wildlife—a puzzle, a maze that she was willing to lose her way into, exploring every little detail as she probed deeper into his enchanting world. Such thoughts drew a smile across the konti’s lovely face. The hunt strengthened the arcane geas that connected their hearts together. Kamalia gave a slight nod to her kelvic friend when he gestured in the direction he would be going. She devised her own plans, mentally readying the fiercest weapon in her arsenal: reimancy. Magic tingled from the core of her body to the tips of her fingers. The prospect of spellcasting deeply excited the konti sorceress and her unquenchable spirit thirsted for it. She knew that Gromhir worried about her, but oh, how little did he know about the powers she possessed! As quiet and subtle as wind, Kamalia treaded in the shadows and mists towards the direction opposite of Gromhir. Finally, a small sunlit clearing came into view. There, basking, lounging and playing in the sun-drenched glade were a dozen deer, all silvery and graceful. Each had legs long and taut and powerful, and their silver-white coats seemed to arrest Syna’s golden radiance. The konti crept noiselessly behind the trunk of a luminous tree and thanked Caiyha for the mists that enshroud the woods and conceal her pale form. She waited for Gromhir’s signal, her heart thumping rapidly in the thrill of the hunt.

[Gromhir]

To say that the beauty and the mysticism of the situation were lost on Gromhir was a complete understatement. There was a subtle change in his that warned of something fierce. An Ivaski may be a protective companion to the most elusive of races; they were born hunters at heart. They were canines, pack animals, as much at home play-fighting with each other as working together to bring down their prey.

Seeing the fey beauty in the distance ready herself, Gromhir advanced closer through the bush. Huge paws moved cautiously and silently towards the prey. Muscles tensed in his long legs. Springs coil inside ready to propel him forwards after his target. They were no longer animals to him. They were meals, ready to be snatched up in frenzy. Every movement of the Kelvic was slow and calculated, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He had no need of human weapons; he was a weapon, designed by nature to kill swiftly. An arrow could kill a deer but it would not return to bring you what you killed.

The breath shifted. It was subtle, the most minute of signals. But it was the precise moment Gromhir had wanted. Fangs flashed with murderous intent as the white hunter burst from the green undergrowth. Thunder erupted from the throat of the Kelvic as he howled his vicious cry. Subtlety was lost, replaced by the adrenaline of the hunt.

Panic raced through the herd as the dreaded cry sounded out. With it came confusion, unsure of which way to run, the creatures seemed to dance, searching for the danger that bore down upon them. When they finally found it, they fled. Gromhir gaze chase, bearing down on the stranglers as they raced towards Kamalia.

[Kamalia Timandre]

It was fire and it was ice. Magic smoldered fiercely within her heart and chilled the very core of her soul, and her lithe fingers twitched as silvery res sputtered from their tips. Every time Kamalia was about to fling a spell, this feeling of sweet, inexplicable euphoria would rush forth, making her entire body shiver with delight. Temptations closed in, mental whispers so seductive inviting her to cast her spell. Whatever it was, it urged her on, lightly licking her fingertips with a downy tongue. The young sorceress struggled, balled her hands into a fist and shut her eyes as she willfully contained the addiction stirring within, pausing to meditate.

The moment she closed her eyes, the world seemed to slow immensely in the few seconds between Gromhir’s thundering howl and the konti’s realization that the frenzy had begun. Eyes flashing open, her heart thumped loudly as she watched the enormous ivaski spiral forth from his hiding and spring into action. In his ivaski form, Gromhir appeared imposingly large and powerful that his propelling advance was a marvel and fearful to behold. It was amazing how the body and mind reacted to such situations. Firstly, there was panic, the fear and the thrill of hunt, the dread of danger and injury. Then time seemed to slow, allowing a person to become astoundingly clear about the situation they were present in; the detail of everything seemed to stick out to them; their senses heightened. Kamalia could consciously hear more clearly than normal, could see clearer than normally she would be able to, could smell the elusive scent of lilies mixed with that of fear. Though despite her senses being heightened, her movements were as slow as it seemed time itself was.

And then time sped up again, rushing back onto her in a flood. There was a flash of fangs, a loud shrill cry, and a panicked herd darting towards her direction—it was Kamalia’s turn to move.

Graceful fingers fluttered in the air as Kamalia softly chanted in Nader-Canoch. The konti sorceress concentrated as she emitted translucent silver res in ethereal gases though the tiny pores of her body. There was a malevolent gleam on her eyes as she reveled in this pleasurable process, the feeling of ecstatic euphoria through spellcasting. Once she had gathered enough res, she willed the djed to swirl around an area a few yards in front of her, manipulating air and the tiny miniscule droplets of water to condense the mists into a thick fog. The mage enshrouded the area in front of her with fogs dense enough to conceal her already pale form that it would be nearly impossible for the herd to see through. The girl wondered if the fog would bewilder the beasts of prey for a few moments, or if they would sprint through the dense mists, knowing that their vision will be severely limited.

All the while Kamalia marveled at her spellwork, her entire body convulsed and itched to do more.