Spring, Day 42, 511 AV
His prey had thus far managed to elude his array of traps. His ever reliable snare lay untriggered, the pawprints of the fell beast dotting the snow nearby as if the brute mocked his efforts at capturing it.
Elsewhere, he had constructed a rudimentary pitfall trap. He had spent the better part of a bell excavating the snow and earth, sweat plastering his hair to his neck, despite the biting cold of the tundra. When he had created a hole of sufficient depth in which his quarry would be unable to escape from, he had clambered out, his forearms suffused with a dull, burning ache as he pulled himself over the edge. Panting from exertion, he had set to work placing the white canvas across the mouth of the pit, weighing it down with small cunks of hardened snow. From this, he had proceeded to distribute the excavated snow in such a manner as to make the area appear perfectly natural and undisturbed. Even the most discerning gaze would have difficulty spotting anything amiss, let alone that which he now tracked.
His day had begun peacefully enough. He awoke with the break of dawn, the soft light bathing his large tent in a warm glow. Rising, he had donned his armour, fastening the straps and buckles that were necessary to hold the metal plate covering his chest in place. Slipping on his boots, constructed to provide excellent purchase upon the often treacherous snow and ice, he had pulled back the flap of his tent to greet the day. Straightening, his gaze was drawn to the prints which lay in the snow around his camp, the indentations creating a haphazard, chaotic pattern. A faint crease in the pale, smooth skin of his brow betrayed his bemusement as he had studied the tracks, mulling over the possibility of ensnaring that which had so rudely strolled through his territory.
Striding over to his horse, a gorgeous Frostmarch stallion he had purchased some time ago, he turned his bemused frown upon the magnificent animal, as if the horse had failed in it's duty to protect the sanctity of the camp while Amondaris slept. For his part, the stallion simply returned the mixed blood's frown with a blithe, innocent blink. It was almost as if it's failure didn't bother the animal at all.
Funny, that.
Snorting at his travelling companion's obvious lack of conscience, the man delved into the saddlebags adorning the horse's flanks, promptly extracting the tools he deemed necessary to bring low the transgressor. His trusted snare, a sheet of white canvas and one or two other items. Lowering his stony regards to the trapmaking items gathered in his hands, he narrowed his eyes, the sweet thought of exacting vengeance upon this horrible beast bringing a faint curve to his lips.
This would be easy.
This isn't easy, he thought darkly to himself as he lay upon the snow before his pitfall trap. He had been laying there for some time now, having taken the care to half-bury himself in the white powder which was so plentiful in this frozen paradise. This served to allow him to blend in with his surroundings excellently, the pure white of his armour and cloak camouflaging him exceedingly well. Shifting minutely within his snowy cocoon, he flexed and relaxed his muscles in a steady, continuous cycle in order to prevent his limbs from falling asleep, or acquiring any debilitating cramps. This petching beast must be bloody invisible. I haven't seen head nor tail of it this day!
The sun was lowering in the azure sky, the light of day drawing to a close. The beast which had thus far eluded the hunter approached the area where the pitfall trap was located, it's ears swiveling back and forth incessantly.
It had been a good day for the beast. It's belly was full, the weather had been pleasant, and it had even spotted an eye-catching female earlier. It would pursue her later, no doubt. It was young, healthy and in the prime of it's life. It was content with it's lot.
It was also unaware that it was being hunted.
Amondaris had almost given up on ever seeing this fell violator of his territory, his hopes sinking along with the sun, fading as swiftly as the light bled from the sky. Yet there was light yet left in the day, and still he had hope.
And behold! The beast prowled into the area, casting about for anything suspicious. Amondaris held his breath as the animal neared the pitfall trap. One step was all that it would take to send the beast plummeting into darkness.
Silently, he urged it to take that one last step, to go spinning into the abyss. Yet...
The beast had sensed something. It had frozen, standing stock still at the very cusp of the trap. The man's frustrations soared to hirtherto unreached heights as the cursed thing turned to go back the way whence it came.
He had no choice. He would have to act.
It had smelled something...Off. Something that did not belong. It's senses finely tuned to detect such suspicious tell-tale signs, it had elected to simply backtrack, and take another route. Turning, it took several bounding steps, uwnittingly drawing closer to the man that lay in wait.
It's eyes widened as a nearby bank of snow erupted violently, the fine white powder scattering everywhere as something large, white and furred shot towards it, leaping through the air with a peculiar grace.
Heart hammering, the animal reacted instinctively, diving out of the assailant's path at the very last moment.
Abruptly, the attacker was gone. Baffled, the creature turned, to find a hole sunk into the earth, where before there had been solid ground. Curiosity driving it, it stepped forward to investigate, leaning it's head over the edge of the pit.
He had misjudged the jump in his haste. Misjudged it disastrously. Sailing past his quarry like an arrow loosed from a bow, he had shot forward, and straight into the trap he had dug earlier.
The white canvas entangling him, he turned to glare up at the beast which had so utterly humiliated him, cursing the foul, demonic beast silently.
The beast merely twitched his nose as if in silent, mocking laughter, and hopped off.
It had been a good day for the rabbit, indeed. |
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by Amondaris on March 23rd, 2011, 8:52 pm 
