29th, Summer, 517 AV
The sun beat down aggressively onto the tent city, with only the salty breeze flowing in from the coast to offer relief from the sun’s basking rays. Though the city had only been located here for a couple days, the ground surrounding it had already turned into a dust bowl. Thijs’ tent, located towards the outskirts, was already being caked with a dry layer of dust. The matter was not helped by Zoya, a lightly colored Gilding, who was having a joy of a time stirring up even more dust around the tent. Along the outside, organized haphazardly, laid Thijs’ things – a lamp there, a tarp partially folded, his long bow leaned up against the side of his tent. Thijs himself was seated on the ground just outside the tent, use to the beating sun and large amounts of dust. A half-eaten rabbit leg in his hand, he studied the other tents and bustles of movement as Drykas and various traders carried their wares to and from the markets. Thijs knew his brother was probably among them, bringing back goods from Kenash to sale for jacked-up prices. His other brother, too, was probably at the market, controlling the flow of merchants and breaking up disputes, or perhaps he was out in the Sea of Grass with his other Watch brethren. Thijs, however, found himself with no responsibilities and, at the same time, nothing really to do.
The bulky male raised himself from the ground, ignoring the dust that stuck coated to the back of his legs. Zoya snorted at him, kicking up more dust with her front hooves. “I know, I know, not right now.” He leaned and picked up his long bow, which was only lightly used and hardly worn in, with his free hand. “Sicari,” he prodded the outside of the ten with his bow, alerting the Kelvic inside, “let’s get some target practice.” He made his way to the side of the tent, where they’re newly purchased target was irregularly stuck into the ground. It leaned to one side at an odd angle, but Thijs hardly seemed to notice. He brought up his bow, pulling back the string, and mock-aiming. “Bring the arrows” he shouted towards the tent, before letting the string go and pretending to send an arrow flying.
The sun beat down aggressively onto the tent city, with only the salty breeze flowing in from the coast to offer relief from the sun’s basking rays. Though the city had only been located here for a couple days, the ground surrounding it had already turned into a dust bowl. Thijs’ tent, located towards the outskirts, was already being caked with a dry layer of dust. The matter was not helped by Zoya, a lightly colored Gilding, who was having a joy of a time stirring up even more dust around the tent. Along the outside, organized haphazardly, laid Thijs’ things – a lamp there, a tarp partially folded, his long bow leaned up against the side of his tent. Thijs himself was seated on the ground just outside the tent, use to the beating sun and large amounts of dust. A half-eaten rabbit leg in his hand, he studied the other tents and bustles of movement as Drykas and various traders carried their wares to and from the markets. Thijs knew his brother was probably among them, bringing back goods from Kenash to sale for jacked-up prices. His other brother, too, was probably at the market, controlling the flow of merchants and breaking up disputes, or perhaps he was out in the Sea of Grass with his other Watch brethren. Thijs, however, found himself with no responsibilities and, at the same time, nothing really to do.
The bulky male raised himself from the ground, ignoring the dust that stuck coated to the back of his legs. Zoya snorted at him, kicking up more dust with her front hooves. “I know, I know, not right now.” He leaned and picked up his long bow, which was only lightly used and hardly worn in, with his free hand. “Sicari,” he prodded the outside of the ten with his bow, alerting the Kelvic inside, “let’s get some target practice.” He made his way to the side of the tent, where they’re newly purchased target was irregularly stuck into the ground. It leaned to one side at an odd angle, but Thijs hardly seemed to notice. He brought up his bow, pulling back the string, and mock-aiming. “Bring the arrows” he shouted towards the tent, before letting the string go and pretending to send an arrow flying.