44th of fall, 515 a.v.
late morning
Merevaika. Merevaika. Yes, think I’ve heard that name.
Stops by the Allegiance sometimes. Ain’t she a hunter?
I remember her. Saw her at the auction those days ago. Walked away with a horse or two, I think.
Always comes in from the outskirts. Like you do. Lookin’ for her, probably lives on the edges.
She travels with that Benshira, the one with the pick. Nearly took my nose off with that thing!
Tracking was not a skill limited to the Sea of Grass. Ever since spotting Merevaika at the auction, Shahar had wanted to talk to her. He remembered their shared journey to Riverfall, and he remembered their shared hunt; the woman had proven herself to be possessed of a measure of common sense, which was something Shahar held in very high regard. It was enough to make him want to find her.
He knew that she had taken home two horses from the auction, including a little colorsplash filly. He wasn’t as well-versed in horsemanship as he would have liked––to stay he was still in the learning stages would be a vast understatement––but he had managed to keep Lightning on her feet for the days since the auction, and she seemed to be growing stronger with every sunrise. He didn’t know what experience Merevaika had, but he intended to find her and offer his help with whatever she needed.
It was a sound enough opening for his true intentions. He didn’t often worry about how he appeared to other people, but this was different. This was important. He needed to begin on the best note he could, and he needed to keep that note for as long as possible; he wanted to keep the previous positive relations between Merevaika and himself, and improve them further if he was able. Maybe then he wouldn’t look nearly as desperate as he was when he asked her if she would like to hunt together.
He carved a path around the outskirts of the tent city, atop Akaidras and flanked by Snow and Tuka, and now with Vanya as well. The mixed-blood mare had been tacked with yvas and bags, with no rider to weigh her down, and was tethered to Akaidras by a loosely tied lasso of rope. It was more of a gesture of intention than an actual restraint; Vanya followed them amiably, unperturbed by the contraption on her back and only somewhat distasteful of the dog and cat that followed. But she was on Tuka’s side, and Tuka knew better than to tangle with a horse; she padded alongside with a professional demeanor, and so Vanya tolerated it. This was an exercise of exploration, and it was another test that Vanya passed excellently; she followed the darker stallion closely, even when they made a small detour for the express purpose of hopping over a stream. She followed willingly, and it gave Shahar the confidence to go faster, into a canter, and angle towards a small stand of sage-bushes. Akaidras cantered, jumped, cleared the sage and landed neatly on the other side, followed immediately by the heavy weight of Vanya doing the same without a single neigh of displeasure.
It seemed that Vanya was not only experienced with an yvas, but with many things.
Their morning small-game hunt had been relatively successful, at least to the point that everyone’s appetites were marginally whetted, and so Tuka remained relatively calm and collected; they weren’t heading into the wilderness, and so she knew that they weren’t hunting. For now.
Snow, on the other hand, was endlessly curious about their destination. Where were they going? Who were they looking for? Was it a new friend? Snow loved new friends! This was a fun game.
He found the camp by looking for the horses he assumed would be there: Merevaika’s dark strider, the buckskin mare she had taken in and the colorsplash filly. It was indeed on the outskirts, where the loners camped when they had no pavilion to attach to. Shahar pulled the group to a halt just outside the perimeter of the camp.
“Hail,” he called into the space. Greeting, friend, memory, good see again.
late morning
Merevaika. Merevaika. Yes, think I’ve heard that name.
Stops by the Allegiance sometimes. Ain’t she a hunter?
I remember her. Saw her at the auction those days ago. Walked away with a horse or two, I think.
Always comes in from the outskirts. Like you do. Lookin’ for her, probably lives on the edges.
She travels with that Benshira, the one with the pick. Nearly took my nose off with that thing!
Tracking was not a skill limited to the Sea of Grass. Ever since spotting Merevaika at the auction, Shahar had wanted to talk to her. He remembered their shared journey to Riverfall, and he remembered their shared hunt; the woman had proven herself to be possessed of a measure of common sense, which was something Shahar held in very high regard. It was enough to make him want to find her.
He knew that she had taken home two horses from the auction, including a little colorsplash filly. He wasn’t as well-versed in horsemanship as he would have liked––to stay he was still in the learning stages would be a vast understatement––but he had managed to keep Lightning on her feet for the days since the auction, and she seemed to be growing stronger with every sunrise. He didn’t know what experience Merevaika had, but he intended to find her and offer his help with whatever she needed.
It was a sound enough opening for his true intentions. He didn’t often worry about how he appeared to other people, but this was different. This was important. He needed to begin on the best note he could, and he needed to keep that note for as long as possible; he wanted to keep the previous positive relations between Merevaika and himself, and improve them further if he was able. Maybe then he wouldn’t look nearly as desperate as he was when he asked her if she would like to hunt together.
He carved a path around the outskirts of the tent city, atop Akaidras and flanked by Snow and Tuka, and now with Vanya as well. The mixed-blood mare had been tacked with yvas and bags, with no rider to weigh her down, and was tethered to Akaidras by a loosely tied lasso of rope. It was more of a gesture of intention than an actual restraint; Vanya followed them amiably, unperturbed by the contraption on her back and only somewhat distasteful of the dog and cat that followed. But she was on Tuka’s side, and Tuka knew better than to tangle with a horse; she padded alongside with a professional demeanor, and so Vanya tolerated it. This was an exercise of exploration, and it was another test that Vanya passed excellently; she followed the darker stallion closely, even when they made a small detour for the express purpose of hopping over a stream. She followed willingly, and it gave Shahar the confidence to go faster, into a canter, and angle towards a small stand of sage-bushes. Akaidras cantered, jumped, cleared the sage and landed neatly on the other side, followed immediately by the heavy weight of Vanya doing the same without a single neigh of displeasure.
It seemed that Vanya was not only experienced with an yvas, but with many things.
Their morning small-game hunt had been relatively successful, at least to the point that everyone’s appetites were marginally whetted, and so Tuka remained relatively calm and collected; they weren’t heading into the wilderness, and so she knew that they weren’t hunting. For now.
Snow, on the other hand, was endlessly curious about their destination. Where were they going? Who were they looking for? Was it a new friend? Snow loved new friends! This was a fun game.
He found the camp by looking for the horses he assumed would be there: Merevaika’s dark strider, the buckskin mare she had taken in and the colorsplash filly. It was indeed on the outskirts, where the loners camped when they had no pavilion to attach to. Shahar pulled the group to a halt just outside the perimeter of the camp.
“Hail,” he called into the space. Greeting, friend, memory, good see again.
