Timestamp: 19th day of Summer, 510 AV Fog passed over the blades of grass and spread out trees in the early morning. Morning birds chirped away, and small incests flew to and fro across Zakal's sight. He was out for another morning hunt. It's how he spent most of his mornings since his parents' death. Using any opportunity he could to use his father's bow. He was alone. He didn't have a strider yet, and his new hunting dog was still a puppy and needed to be left in his tent at Endrykas. He had no tracks or clues to follow to begin his hunt, so he continued to walk aimlessly through the grass. The sun had risen, but with the fog so thick, it was hard to tell. Zakal continued his silent stalker's walk. He wasn't crouching yet, he had no reason to. But he knew to at least be silent as he walked through the deathtrap known as the Sea of Grass. Zakal inhaled deeply, hoping to catch any familiar scent of prey. He was disappointed to not find any. His ears still tuned in for any sounds that would indicate movement. Still nothing. Zakal wasn't discouraged though. Having been raised as a hunter in the Emerald Clan, he knew that you couldn't expect a winner every hunt. But he felt like the hunt was his only true skill that he possessed. With of course, his marksmanship with his short bow. He ran his fingers through the arrows in his satchel on his back. His hand brushed against his short sword. He had no experience with the new blade, only a day ago had he bought it, and since then he's only swung it around like a child. He hoped that he could use it soon. |