x::Good Eye Sniper::x[open] Nov 24, 2007 5:34:10 GMT -4
Post by jasper on Nov 24, 2007 5:34:10 GMT -4
They were somewhere beyond the lake, though just near enough the scent still lingered coolly. It was always dark before it was light; the bitter cold of an early winter morning creeping from flesh to bone in the matter of moments it took to be completely consumed in the outside. He’d left impractically early from his evening camp, but it wasn’t as if it were luxury he’d be leaving. In fact it had been almost an entire year since Jasper had found himself in some homey room with a bed with furs of every imaginable creature, a fireplace built of a fine stone that too warmed beneath a flame. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy such things, nor couldn’t afford them (though he’d preferred to spend his money on something otherwise more necessary), but instead that he lacked the desire to be in company; even if his room would have been enclosed to entirely himself. Solitude was what he fancied more than anything save for his wolven companion, and therefore when night fell he slept under nothing but the sky itself.
To some he was a traveler seeking paradise.
Maybe he was, for his constant travels have ceased to pause between now and some time ago when had left his homelands, or maybe he was seeking something else entirely..
The forest was still, a shallow hum buzzing about the edges of impossible silence. Not a cricket, not a bird dared to wake not yet not until a hot light flushed through the army of trees splaying across the floor in fogged streams; a white rush that illuminated the mist he’d not seen before. The equine creature beneath him shuttered in maybe anticipation or cold, striving in an easy pace forward as silver hooves jabbed relentlessly into the damp soils. To their right raced his wolf, evading branches and those of what elder trees fell in swift leaps ducks and slides. Their pace remained the same, constant, and though it looked as if the wolf hunted he, instead they hunted together.
Before them raced a deer, elegant swift but maybe small compared to the towering steed on which Jasper rode. The horse was his speed but everything else relied completely on him. He wasn’t holding to anything not even the animal’s mane, but instead was drawing back a long string from a carved bow- the object was thin and looked as if to snap against the friction it was just to endure. And it did. When his stallion rose beneath him in a solid lift, covering the thick swell of an earth reclaimed trunk, it seemed time was to be demanded to slow to catch his actions when he lifted into the bow a more intricate arrow, set his aim as the clearing blinked for the most brief of moments to a perfect shot and he let free his fate of whether he would eat today or not, sending the thin dart wailing until with a thick pound the deer wheeled forward and his stallion touched earth.
The pieces of his temporary bow were tossed on his passing back to the soil in which they were barrowed as he dragged his horse to a sliding stop with the demanded tug of a lock of mane. The animal lay still now locked in the death set jaws of his wolf- his dagger to end the suffering. There was a smile upon his lips, a soft pull of satisfaction as he kneeled to give his canine a good scratch; indeed the morning would prove successful in both appetite and sport.