23.May.22, 03:51 AM
The twang of his bow was quickly followed by the subsequent thump of his arrow landing home in his intended quarry. Another quickly followed as the boar squealed, the sound piercing in the quiet of the forest. Bracken crashed under its cloven feet as the boar charged through the space. Chironhes lunged forward to follow, his bow slung over his shoulder with a blade now replacing the longer ranged weapon.
In the age-old race of hunter versus hunted, the freckled youth bounded as fleet-footed as a Cheetah in his pursuit. Wary of the tusks that could gore him with a toss of the boar's head, Chir raced forward and drove his blade into the small divot just behind the boar's skull, diving deeply through fat and muscle. The weapon was just long enough to shear through right to the opening between vertebrae. The animal fell in a heap, its suffering ended in a singular blow.
Chir panted in the following silence before pulling his dagger free. The young hunter placed both hands over the boar's eyes and encouraged them to close as he sent up silent thanks to its spirit. Its death would serve to feed the Hold. Only after he paid his respects did Chir pull out a length of thickly braided twine to wrap around the boar's back legs so he could hoist it onto his back. He grunted under its weight and prepared himself for the trip back to Lemos proper.
Birdsong served as his watchers. The tiny avians descended from canaries used in the mines were as brightly colored as the dragons he'd heard tales about and so rarely seen. Golds, blues, greens, and even rarer red ones flitted through the trees overhead, bringing a sense of peace with their trills and tweets. With them around, his worry for lurking wherries was quelled.
Which was why he came alert when the birdsong stopped. Chir lowered his captured game to the forest floor and slipped his bow from his opposite shoulder. He pulled an arrow from the quiver at his hip as he scanned both the woods and the trees above warily. Held taut, the young hunter waited. In his experience, a wherry's patience was less than his own.
True to form, the winged fiend dropped from the canopy above to land with spread wings and a razor-sharp beak that screeched out a battle cry. Chir dove to the side as it swung at him with one turquoise-gilded green wing and threw himself back when it attempted to stomp on him with squat, fat forelimbs. He fired one arrow at its face in the hopes of discouraging it completely when it pinned its beady sights on his abandoned kill only to have it whip back towards him with single-minded determination.
Well, shit.
He grunted as the broad side of one of those wings caught him in his gut and tossed him bodily through the air. Even after managing to scoop up a handful of arrows as he rolled back to his feet when they spilled from his quiver, Chir only managed to fire an additional two before he was tossed again. His back collided firmly with a thick trunk of a Skybroom, knocking the breath from him. The hunter coughed as he fell to his knees only to wheeze out in pain when the inland wherry skewered his shoulder to the tree behind him.
Staring his death in the face, Chir pulled out his dagger once more and sliced it across the fat knuckles of the avian creature who reared back with ear-splitting screeches. As it whipped away, its tail knocked down growing saplings during the tantrum.
Armed now only with the dagger, he held it in his non-dominant left hand while his right arm dangled from the trauma. That he could still curl his fingers, albeit with a great deal of pain, brought some comfort to the possibility of the grievous wound healing. At some point. If he survived.
A single blade and bum arm against four taloned limbs, two brutally powerful wings, and a bill meant for shredding into thick hides. He loved his chances. But running from such odds wasn't an option when the wherry could simply take him down in the chase.
Chironess sucked in a hiss as a trio of talons from one foot sliced through his tunic to hook deeply into his side. Caught, there was little he could do but brace as he was pulled closer. Brace, and wait. Choose his moment.
And there it was.
Chir drove his dagger straight up into the opened mouth where it buried through the palate and between the buggy eyes of the ugly beast. Just as the boar had, the wherry dropped like a stone, this time taking Chir with it. The hunter focused on pulling in his ragged breaths through his nose and out of his mouth while carefully unhooking each talon from his abdomen.
Blood spilled slow and steadily from the wounds. With the only hand he had remaining, Chir dropped his dagger and applied pressure there. Returning with the boar was out of the question. As he stood on wobbly legs, the boy had to wonder if he could even make it back at all. Still, he took his first halting step forward, ever the survivor.
In the age-old race of hunter versus hunted, the freckled youth bounded as fleet-footed as a Cheetah in his pursuit. Wary of the tusks that could gore him with a toss of the boar's head, Chir raced forward and drove his blade into the small divot just behind the boar's skull, diving deeply through fat and muscle. The weapon was just long enough to shear through right to the opening between vertebrae. The animal fell in a heap, its suffering ended in a singular blow.
Chir panted in the following silence before pulling his dagger free. The young hunter placed both hands over the boar's eyes and encouraged them to close as he sent up silent thanks to its spirit. Its death would serve to feed the Hold. Only after he paid his respects did Chir pull out a length of thickly braided twine to wrap around the boar's back legs so he could hoist it onto his back. He grunted under its weight and prepared himself for the trip back to Lemos proper.
Birdsong served as his watchers. The tiny avians descended from canaries used in the mines were as brightly colored as the dragons he'd heard tales about and so rarely seen. Golds, blues, greens, and even rarer red ones flitted through the trees overhead, bringing a sense of peace with their trills and tweets. With them around, his worry for lurking wherries was quelled.
Which was why he came alert when the birdsong stopped. Chir lowered his captured game to the forest floor and slipped his bow from his opposite shoulder. He pulled an arrow from the quiver at his hip as he scanned both the woods and the trees above warily. Held taut, the young hunter waited. In his experience, a wherry's patience was less than his own.
True to form, the winged fiend dropped from the canopy above to land with spread wings and a razor-sharp beak that screeched out a battle cry. Chir dove to the side as it swung at him with one turquoise-gilded green wing and threw himself back when it attempted to stomp on him with squat, fat forelimbs. He fired one arrow at its face in the hopes of discouraging it completely when it pinned its beady sights on his abandoned kill only to have it whip back towards him with single-minded determination.
Well, shit.
He grunted as the broad side of one of those wings caught him in his gut and tossed him bodily through the air. Even after managing to scoop up a handful of arrows as he rolled back to his feet when they spilled from his quiver, Chir only managed to fire an additional two before he was tossed again. His back collided firmly with a thick trunk of a Skybroom, knocking the breath from him. The hunter coughed as he fell to his knees only to wheeze out in pain when the inland wherry skewered his shoulder to the tree behind him.
Staring his death in the face, Chir pulled out his dagger once more and sliced it across the fat knuckles of the avian creature who reared back with ear-splitting screeches. As it whipped away, its tail knocked down growing saplings during the tantrum.
Armed now only with the dagger, he held it in his non-dominant left hand while his right arm dangled from the trauma. That he could still curl his fingers, albeit with a great deal of pain, brought some comfort to the possibility of the grievous wound healing. At some point. If he survived.
A single blade and bum arm against four taloned limbs, two brutally powerful wings, and a bill meant for shredding into thick hides. He loved his chances. But running from such odds wasn't an option when the wherry could simply take him down in the chase.
Chironess sucked in a hiss as a trio of talons from one foot sliced through his tunic to hook deeply into his side. Caught, there was little he could do but brace as he was pulled closer. Brace, and wait. Choose his moment.
And there it was.
Chir drove his dagger straight up into the opened mouth where it buried through the palate and between the buggy eyes of the ugly beast. Just as the boar had, the wherry dropped like a stone, this time taking Chir with it. The hunter focused on pulling in his ragged breaths through his nose and out of his mouth while carefully unhooking each talon from his abdomen.
Blood spilled slow and steadily from the wounds. With the only hand he had remaining, Chir dropped his dagger and applied pressure there. Returning with the boar was out of the question. As he stood on wobbly legs, the boy had to wonder if he could even make it back at all. Still, he took his first halting step forward, ever the survivor.