Solo The Long Hunt

[Colt]

1st of summer 515 a.v
roundabout noon.

Another night passed.

Another flare of the watchtowers.

Another spring over.

Another day’s hunt.

In truth, the marking of the change of the season change affected very little in Shahar’s life. The last day of spring and the first day of the summer were generally the same. The rolling of the seasons were slow, gradual things just as much as they were sudden, flashing changes. Just because the jewels were different colors didn’t mean that the fruit was magically ready for picking.

In this manner, the breeze held a very real breath of spring as it rolled over Shahar’s bare skin. The warm season was decidedly lazy with its onset, but had enough influence that he had opted to change into his summer garb. As such, his only real articles of clothing were his pants, boots, overlayed by his belt and the various thing attached to it and the straps of his quiver. Less clothes felt better, and so he wanted to wear as little clothing as he could for as long as possible.

Akaidras whuffed and shifted beneath him, then bent his head to tug halfheartedly at what grass happened to be around them. They hadn’t been standing for an inanely long amount of time––yet––but there was still a lull that had fallen over the Drykas and Strider as they waited for the tawny young hunting cat to complete her business.

They were an hour’s ride from Endrykas––half an hour if they galloped at full speed––which was a common situation for them at this hour. Word had passed through the Hunter’s Allegiance of the herd of kudu passing through the area, between the more experienced hunters that could make the best of the information. Those who knew their trade knew better than to send green boys and girls after such an animal. Kudu deserved more respect than that, and apparently Shahar was skilled enough to qualify.

The clanless hunter had run these paths before, and he could surmise well enough where the herd was heading; there was a shallow crater not far north, relatively small in terms of physical size but shaped perfectly to capture and hold water. A creature as agile as a kudu would have no difficulty reaching it, and Shahar was relatively certain that it was their destination.

All that was left was for Tuka to find their trail.

Shahar could have found it himself, of course, and probably could have done so a sight quicker than his feline companion, but speed was not his current priority Tuka was rapidly improving in her precision and her desire to help him hunt. This was what she had been bred for since Semele had first birthed the Drykas; her bones and flesh knew what to do, even as her mind was unsure, but Shahar trusted her to figure it out.

A bit more waiting proved his trust to be well placed.

Tuka paused when she found it, coiling up like a snake preparing to strike and pricking her ears forward. A moment of tense contemplation followed, and then she was bounding back to her master. She circled the stallion once, chirping her excitement and failing to see the signs of calm down tell me on Shahar’s hands.

“Tuka!” Shahar barked, loud and firm.

Tuka paused and looked at him.

Where is it? Show me, go.

Although where and show me were still foreign commands to her, Tuka understood go well enough. Off she went towards her find, and Shahar coaxed Akaidras up from his lazing into a reluctant canter to follow.

The site was not at all far, and it was accompanied by the telltale trails of bent grass and prints of large beasts. Tall, heavy on their feet and slender-hooved, all speaking of kudu. They were on the right path.

Very good, Shahar signed to the elated Tuka. Vast approval, pride. He turned to the yvas bags and tossed a chip of dried meat to her. You did well.

Tuka practically floated after the horse and rider as they angled after their quarry. The hunt was off to a good start.

[Colt]

As the next leg of their task began, Shahar briefly rattled off what he knew of kudu in his head. They were large, but their size did nothing to limit their incredible agility. They could leap like the wind, and were difficult to pursue through thick brush, but their advantage was lost in long pursuits. As long as one managed to keep track of them and keep finding them once they were out of sight, a kudu would tire quickly. Soon it would no longer jump, and then a Strider could outrun it with ease. Unlike many of his hunts, this journey would be long and the chase would be great. Such was the way of the kudu.

Although Tuka dearly wanted to run and follow the trail to its end, an authoritative stay close, by my side, kept her from doing so. She fell into obedient stride at Akaidras’ heel and Shahar made sure to reward her with good girl, gratitude and another chip of meat.

While he didn’t dismount to get an exact count, Shahar could glean a rough estimate of the herd’s numbers from the signs it left behind. There were more than four, certainly, although definitely no more than ten. Most were females, although there were at least two males, and one of the females was being followed by a fawn of unknown gender. The mother and fawn he would leave be.

The trail seemed to be roughly an hour old, which was young enough for the hunter to catch up but old enough that he was less likely to come upon them prematurely and startle them off. He could afford to move with speed, and so he leaned forward in the yvas and tapped Akaidras’ sides to push the strider into a full gallop.

In this, Tuka proved to be a limiting factor; although she was a stunningly fast and agile cat, nearly capable of keeping pace with Akaidras at full stride, she was not at all effective over long distances. Much like the kudu they were hunting, Tuka was a born and bred sprinter, able to run like the wind so long as she didn’t have to run for long. Although she had never hunted kudu before, Shahar suspected that she would be invaluable to keep their beast running. By the time she tired, so would the kudu.

Because of this, Shahar had to repeatedly lean back to remind Akaidras to keep a slow canter, a pace Tuka could easily follow without becoming tired. She would be of no use if they reached the herd and she was already worn out. Their progress, then, wasn’t as rapid as it could have been, but it was certainly enough to serve the hunt.

They were gaining.

Earth and grass passed by them steadily, rife with countless bits of information that Shahar noticed without noticing. A nest woven between two mullen spikes: redwing blackbird. Worn rut in the bush: rabbit path: nearby warren: nearby water: nearby coyotes. Adult Cyphrus hawk overhead: many-year feathers: mated: nearby nest: nearby tall nesting site: nearby trees or cliffs: nearby major water source. The world around him was an endless tapestry of threads and knots, where all pieced came from somewhere and led somewhere else. This was this way, therefore that had to be that was because this relied upon that to exist. Long dip in the earth: dried streambed: attached to water source: seasonal water: seasonal plants: migratory animals in times of rain. The world of beasts and plants was not a mysterious one, as Shahar had sometimes heard it described; the world around him was both singular and immeasurable, a puzzle of innumerable pieces that were inseparable from one another. It was a world that constantly wrote itself upon its own skin, and every single participant left a mark with every move it made. In such a world, Shahar’s difficulty was not in finding those marks, but in finding too many. Every yard of grassland was wholly alive, just as alive as the living, breathing animals that were a part of it, and it was a world he had to sift through to stay afloat in.

Wide patch of torn earth: herd stopped to eat: herd knew water was close: water source nearby: herd at water source: herd nearby.

Shahar pulled Akaidras into a trot, then a walk, then to a halt. He bid Tuka to stay, then sat back, closed his eyes and listened.

It was the birds that told him where to go. In the distance they chattered at each other angrily, all congregated in a place that forced their territories to overlap. They were different birdsongs too; Shahar knew the call of the plains-birds, but now he heard chickadees, a bird that nested near water, and where the kudu, by process of elimination, must have gone to drink.

Shahar tapped Akaidras into motion and signaled for Tuka to stay close.

[Colt]

They began with an easy walk. There was no point in trying to be stealthy; the kudu would hear Akaidras’ hooves quite quickly regardless of whatever they tried to make it otherwise. They were likely to know the scent of Drykas, however, and it would make them uneasy, not to mention what the sight of Tuka would do to them.

Shahar needed a plan.

He was currently sidewind to them, so they wouldn’t scent him until he grew very close. He could change course and come at them from the west after a bit of circling, which would put him downwind of them and lengthen the time he had to set up a trap of some sort. In way of traps, Shahar’s only real option was Tuka; if he set her downwind of them, told her to stay and then drove the her towards her, she would almost certainly break orders and give chase. Her ability to pursue was his most valuable asset; Tuka was much easier to chase––and see–– on horseback than kudu, and if she followed the kudu then he could follow her. The hunt ahead of them would not be a short one, even in the best of circumstances; they needed to wear their quarry down over an extended chase if Shahar wanted a clean kill.

To that end, what would be the best plan to lay? Tuka would be planted downwind, where Shahar could drive their prey towards her, and then they would follow. To do that, all three of them would need to circle west of the water hole and approach directly, and Tuka would need to stay there, just out of sight. After that, Shahar needed to make his way to the opposite side of the herd, without startling them into an early flight. To do so, it would likely be best to circle the northern side of the water hole to get to the east, since the kudu were most likely drinking from the southern shore.

Shahar leaned to the right and gently angled Akaidras to the east. Tuka followed happily.

There was a distinctly different style of hunting that Shahar had to utilize when pursuing herd-beasts, especially those as large and agile as kudu. It was both simpler and more complicated than the hunting of other things; he had know what he was hunting, in mind and in body. He had to understand what it wanted, and what it would to to get what it wanted, and to plan against it. It was the planning that differed. There was more scheming to be done, certainly, and in the case of their current quarry, there was also a great deal of physical effort that would follow.

For a kudu, though, it was worth it.

Tuka bounced beside them, so much so that Shahar had to give her more direction than Akaidras. Be still. Quiet. Careful. Come. Stay close. All repeated over and over again to keep her from bolting, which he knew would hold the very real danger of throwing her into plain sight or scent of the kudu; he could just see the circular dip in the earth on the horizon, filled with the dark blotch of a large body of water. It was too far away for him to see the herd, but he didn’t need to; the water, even in summer, was plenty, and so many animals would find relief there alongside each other. The kudu would have followed others, and there was hardly anything else in the area that might have interested them enough to stop their traveling. It was where they would be, and it was getting closer with every moment.

[Colt]

Following plan, the three of them circled west of the watering hole until they were fully downwind. Before they angled to actually approach the herd, however, Shahar dismounted so that he could guide Tuka more closely; she could smell the animals that were drinking, and many of those that had slaked their thirst in the past, and it was exciting her beyond measure. Shahar knelt and stroked her gently, murmuring nothings to calm her down. It worked somewhat, at least to the point that she wasn’t coiled like a striking snake.

Shahar fell into a well-practiced hunter’s crouch to move east, and Tuka followed, mimicking the need for silence and falling into a quiet stalk of her own. They weren’t absolutely soundless, but the symphony of the birds and grass and wind would cover up the majority of their approach. Hopefully.

Again it was the birds that Shahar used to judge location, and then to judge where to stop. He could just barely see the end of the waving curtain of grass if he squinted, although there was no way to see beyond it; he marked their place by memorizing the trees that arched above them, blocking out the sky with creaking boughs that held aloft dark green canopies. He needed to remember where it was that Tuka was waiting.

To actually get her to wait, Shahar wrapped his arms around her lovingly. Stay, wait here, don’t move, be still. He drew back, and she peered at him curiously. She seemed to have gotten the message. Stay wait, he signed again, stroking her back. Don’t move. Stay here. He stood. She stayed where she was. Stay, good, do more, wait here. He carefully, quietly backed away. She remained in place. Good, stay, wait, don’t move. He repeated the signs over and over until they were out of sight of each other, then turned and made his way back to Akaidras.

Upon remounting his strider, Shahar headed north. He could see the trees much more clearly from the vantage point of riding a horse, and made sure to keep a hefty distance from them as he carved his arc, especially when he began to enter sidewind of the area. A few more minutes of riding and he was almost certain they had scented him. Once he was on the far west side, Shahar pointed Akaidras at the water hole and urged him closer.

The shade of trees was not a sensation that Shahar was used to, although it wasn’t unpleasant. They broke from the grass into the dappled shadows beneath the canopy, where the grass shortened drastically until it only came up to Akaidras’ ankles. Beyond the shade, however, the grass became a bit thicker, especially at the water’s edge, and it was at the water’s edge that he saw them.

Three males. Four females. A fawn. The shimmering color of silver dust, painted with thin, stark white stripes. Tawny beards and manes, dark, white-spotted faces, and three sets of long, delicate spiralled horns.

Shahar couldn’t have imagined a more beautiful animal.

A few on the outskirts of the herd glanced up at him warily, and Shahar quickly averted his eyes; the kudu were distracting him from themselves. He had to focus on what he had come here to do.

Shahar relaxed his shoulders and coaxed Akaidras to the water’s edge, where the grateful stallion bent his head to drink. It was a normal herd-beast action, one that might put the kudu into less of an uneasy tension than what they were already in. Shahar himself didn’t dismount to take water; that might make the situation worse.

Akaidras snorted and lifted his head, shaking the water off his muzzle; he had been superficially thirsty, and hadn’t taken a great deal. That was good; too much water could make him uncomfortable during the chase. The chase itself would probably make him thirsty, but they could return to drink when they were done, and the journey home would be less stressful.

A quick glance at the trees reminded him of where Tuka was. He prayed that she was still there, but there wasn’t a reliable way to check. Well, he might possibly be able to check through the Web, but it would be dangerous so far away from protection. More dangerous than he was willing to risk; he hadn’t survived this long by being reckless.

With the kudu getting more uneasy by the second, Shahar edged closer to them. They began to move away from him, slowly at first, but walks turned into trots, and then he sped up to keep pace, and then they began to run.

Straight towards Tuka.

[Colt]

The kudu ran, and began by running in the same direction, but when Akaidras slid into a true gallop then the antelope scattered. Into the grass they went, all in different directions, and Shahar had no inkling of which one to follow, not until––there. Was it? Yes! A rippling yellow flash, followed by the flickering of a white-tipped tail. Tuka was moving, jumping, sprinting, sliding through the grass. Shahar and Akaidras followed.

The hunting cat was a blur as she flew over the earth, chasing one of the kudu that had disappeared into the brush. Shahar could just barely catch glimpses of the animal as it leaped over obstacles, as he was entirely focused on the hunting cat and the flash of her tail. Akaidras hit his Stride, pulling upon the magic of the Web to follow them. Once the grass around them began to blend into a vague mass of brown and green, Tuka was easy to spot; the curve of her spine was incredible to watch as it bent one way, then reversed entirely in the span of a heartbeat. This was what she had been born to do. All Shahar could possibly hope for was to keep sight of her and try to follow.

Akaidras ended up having difficulty with the task, she was so fast. The stallion strained as distance blended into meaningless color beneath his hooves, aware that he had to keep up with the speed of the cat. The three runners––horse, cat and kudu––wove in between the spikes of rabbitbrush and tangles of yucca with feet that barely touched the ground. With split-second instinct the last two detected the miniscule changes in the one in front of them, where the next leap and dash would angle and compensating to follow. In this, the three almost ceased to be separate entities, morphing instead into a single creature, hyperaware of itself and completely, utterly connected.

Shahar didn’t know how much time had passed before Tuka began to slow. Minutes, hours; time itself seemed to cease being important. All that mattered was that the hunting cat was slowing, gradually, sprint shifting to run, run shifting to lope, lope shifting to trot, trot to walk and walk to an exhausted flop on the ground. She was spent.

Shahar pulled Akaidras into a canter, slow enough for him to lean almost entirely out of the yvas, grab the limp Tuka by the scruff of her neck and haul her into his lap. Tuka was too tired to put up a fight, and Shahar embraced her gratefully and lovingly to put her at ease. She could rest while they were moving.

Slowing to a trot, Shahar trained his eye on the ground. He remembered where Tuka had been going, and so that meant that the kudu must have gone…

… there. A wide collection of four heavy hoofprints, where the kudu had landed and then bounded again. Shahar trotted past it. The animal had obviously cleared this bramble patch, which meant… yes, there was another heavy landing on the other side. About two strides of real running, and then another heavy bound over a scraggly almost-tree. Shahar passed the tree and found the next landing.

He didn’t hurry in his task; he had to be completely sure of where the animal was heading. The chase must have tired it, and so it wouldn’t be long until leap-prints turned to run-prints, and until those turned to lope-prints. There was a brief pause at every leap where Shahar scanned the other side of whatever it was that the kudu had leaped over, because it didn’t always leap in a direct, linear pattern; sometimes it angled, sometime it even took a sudden right turn in an attempt to throw off those that were chasing it. But it did not go on forever, and Shahar caught sight of where the kudu had stopped and leaps became running. He followed that at a canter, and when the prints became a trot he followed them at a trot.

Tuka had gotten her breath back and was looking around now, having not ridden in an yvas since she was small. Shahar halted and allowed her back onto the ground, where she smelled the fresh passage of the kudu. She was tired, and if she were to sprint again she wouldn’t be able to go nearly as far, but neither would the kudu. And she, unlike the kudu, had been allowed to rest.

Tuka fell into step beside the horse and rider, and the three of them closed in.

[Colt]

They found him quickly. He was an older member of the herd, and not quite as long-winded as he used to be, but there was still a brightness in his eye and a lean fulness to his body. His horns were well into their fourth spiral as a testament to his age, and scars were scattered across his body. He had fallen into a walk from exhaustion by the time they approached.

The kudu managed to summon more strength from somewhere deep within himself and leaped away, followed by Tuka. Akaidras burst into a gallop, and again the four lives joined as one in the inevitable cycle of hunter and prey.

The kudu left Shahar’s sight quickly, but not Tuka’s; she ran with confidence, and so the Drykas and strider followed with confidence after the flickering of her white-tipped tail. It took half the time for her to tire as the first chase had, coming to a stop and planting herself on the ground, and again Shahar grabbed her into the yvas. She hissed in protest, but didn’t scratch or bite; she was uncomfortable, but not so uncomfortable that she wanted to expend more energy to tell him so.

Again they were left to follow what the kudu had left behind; it had jumped twice, each time in straight lines, and then had simply given up and run. The wide strides of its feet were easy markers to follow.

They found him, halted, beneath the shade of a short, scraggly tree. Tuka slid out of the yvas. Shahar and Akaidras returned to a gallop. The kudu returned to running.

He did not leap this time. He wove between the clumps of foliage with four feet on the ground. Tuka did not sprint after him, but she didn’t have to; the kudu was as tired as she was, and was not an animal possessed of long-run endurance.

Not possessed of the endurance of a Strider.

With the Web at his hooves, Akaidras was now the fastest of all of them, and he would not tire for many leagues to come. He galloped after the kudu steadily, each stride gaining them a foot of distance. It was slow, because they could afford to be slow; the kudu could no longer outrun them.

It could have been a moment or a thousand years of time when that had passed when they came within reach of the animal’s flank. Shahar drew a javelin. The kudu swerved to the side, but was unable to make the wheeling turns it had once been able to. Akaidras kept pace and turned with him, and they drew closer. Up, past the flank they went, past the belly. Shahar could have stretched and touched the animal’s mane if he tried. Farther they gained, coming abreast of the shoulder, then just a little farther until the two creatures were galloping neck-and-neck.

Caiyha, your world is beautiful beyond language. Shahar rose in the yvas, shadow falling over his prey, and plunged his spear in between the kudu’s shoulderblades.

[Colt]

The kudu cried out and crumpled. Akaidras and Shahar shot ahead before they managed to spin a tight turn and circle back around to where he had fallen. He was still alive, although he could no longer support himself on his front legs; the kudu pawed uselessly at the dirt, letting out pained and fearful bellows as Dira came his way.

Akaidras slowed and Shahar slid from the yvas before they had come to a full stop, drawing his knife. The kudu looked at him with white-rimmed eyes as he closed the distance and came to circle him. Tuka, who had fallen a bit behind, rejoined them and crouched at the edge of the scene.

Friend, Shahar signed to the kudu, at a loss of what else to say to his prey. He was sorry for the pain he knew his prey was feeling, although was glad that, comparatively, he could have made a much messier kill of the animal had he been less skilled.

He circled to the kudu’s back. The antelope’s struggling was slowly but surely beginning to die down. Shahar caught hold of one of his horns to keep him still and knelt behind his head.

“It will end soon.” He bared the hunting knife and angled the kudu’s head up. He pierced just behind the jaw, through the beard and up through the flesh, back and forth as powerfully and quickly as he was able. The kudu jerked, twisted once, then fell to stillness as blood poured from his throat. The life slipped from his body, and after a time his body had relaxed limply against the rapidly reddening earth.

Shahar stroked the side of the kudu’s neck. “It’s over now,” he murmured. Sleep.

He wiped his knife off on the kudu’s shoulder, then rinsed it with water from his skin. They could return to the watering hole and get more; Akaidras and Tuka both deserved it a hundred times over. Before that, though, there was still work to be done, because the kudu, of course, would have to come with them.

Shahar sheathed his knife, stood and made his way back to Akaidras, who was standing with one foot canted with his head hung low.

Thank you, dear friend, Shahar signed, giving the strider an affectionate pat on the shoulder before going into the yvas bags. Out came rope, enough for him to go and tie the kudu’s front and back hooves together. It would have been infinitely easier if the travois had come with them, but Drelah was certainly not a hunting horse, and there was no one to care for him during a hunt. And so it would fall to Akaidras to carry the kudu home, which wasn’t particularly unusual for either of them.

Shahar led his strider to where the kudu lay. Please, lay down, ground, low, respectful. After a reluctant moment of irritated whuffing, Akaidras knelt so that Shahar could haul the kudu onto his back. He straightened, and then Shahar set about to securing the animal to the yvas with the remainder of the rope. There was a little he could do on that front, and then not much more; the best way to ensure that the kudu would not slide was simply to sit behind it, hold on and keep at a slow and steady pace.

When he was confident in his knotwork, Shahar clambered awkwardly into the yvas behind the kudu and wrapped a firm arm around it. He signalled for Tuka to follow, and then the three hunters began their journey home.

Their hunt had ended as well as Shahar could have hoped. He looked forward to Naiya’s face when he gave her the pelt.

- End -

notesMeat and bones will be sold. Horns will be retained, heart will be retained, hide will be retained and processed through a professional tanner before being brought home. 6sm deducted from ledger for professional tanning by the Spit Fire.

[Tribal]

G R A D E S

Shahar Dawnwhisper

Experience

• Land Navigation: 2
• Animal Husbandry: 3
• Tracking: 3
• Planning: 2
• Mathematics: 1
• Wilderness Survival: 2
• Riding, Horse: 3
• Hunting: 3
• Logic: 1
• Endurance: 2
• Stealth: 1
• Intelligence: 1
• Bodybuilding: 1
• Weapon, Javelin: 1
• Cleaning: 1
• Acrobatics: 1

Lore

• Hunting: Kudu, the long hunt
• Hunting: Finding a scent trail with Tuka
• Animal Husbandry: Rewarding positive behaviour
• Wilderness Survival: Dressing down in the heat
• Mathematics: Estimation
• Tuka: Not a long distance runner
• Tracking: Following paths in the tall grass
• Observation: Chickadees nest near water
• Planning: Driving game towards a hunting partner
• Planning: Sticking to the plan
• Shahar: Survival of the fittest
• Kudu: An animal with little stamina
• Kudu: A surprise for Naiya

Rewards

-6 SM for professional tanning (wow is that all it costs?)
1 x Kudu horns
1 x Kudu heart
1 x Kudu pelt (excellent condition)

Notes

Awesome hunting thread, Shahar; good to see this PC doing what he does best! Some tips for next time. If you really want to get the most of of your rewards (skill points) make sure you write Shahar as doing these things, for example the riding, a lot of the time you explained what the horse did but not how Shahar guided his movements. I'm unsure if I am to award GM for the meat as Shahar is paid to be a hunter (if you know the answer send me a quick PM, otherwise I will do my best to look into it and get back to you asap!). Enjoy the rewards!