ReTRAKKS
ᴅᴇʀᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ
ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴄɪᴘᴀɴᴛs - [member="Chase Spiros"] & @Gav Arwell
▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▬▬▬▬ sᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ▬▬▬▬▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂
Ylesia; a tropical world consisting of three small continents. Upon one of the three, and near the ocean, a part of the jungles are inhabited by two hunters, which both are present for the same thing: to hunt. Though they do not know another is in the area, they do know that there is game to be hunted. Or is there?
▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▬▬▬▬ ᴀ ʜᴜɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ▬▬▬▬▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂
The sounds of the jungle's natural life inhabitants filled Gav Juniper Arwell's ears, in which was a good tool for hunting. Sounds could tell someone if there's prey nearby, or if they've alerted them. Those sounds could be easily identified, and she'd heard both sounds in the last few hours of her silent hunt. Since she'd left Grieak, which had been many months ago, Gav hadn't been able to hunt- due to being cooped up in a metal box that could fly. Gav didn't understand those who've lived around such environment. How did they exercise? How did they manage to keep their mental states sane and satisfied? It was a question that would remain without an answer.
Gav's fingertips brushed along the grips of her bow, in which an arrow rested on its string and metal base. The weapon was something she'd dragged out of her father's things before she'd left Grieak, in which she assumed it was her father's secondary weapon- next to the lightsaber in which she called her own. The set fit almost like a glove, which was kinda weird in a way. The bow wasn't a glove- so it couldn't possibly fit. She'd heard the captain say the phrase while in the star ship, which he had explained to her why it made sense. Though, she didn't see it as a very logical statement. 'It's a saying, it ain't suppose literally mean 'it fits like a glove'. It's just a way of saying an object feels right, and works perfectly amongst it's first uses.'
Ya, totally makes sense.
Shaking the thoughts from her mind, Gav snapped back to what she was currently doing. Hanging onto the past was bad, and caused bad things. 'Moarning causes distractions.'
The old saying from her tribe hung in the air, which aggravated Gav quite a lot. When she talked, she used the same wisdomful sayings and words to correct someone, or she'd try to explain why something doesn't make sense, even around those who think she's crazy. But she wasn't, pretty level headed actually. What they needed to understand was- well- inexperience with space people.
Sitting in silence on her branch, which was leveled with the forest canopy, Gav moved her eyes downward, looking to see if she could kill anything. Gav remained silent, using her dull hazel eyes to spot anything that moved.
▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▬▬▬▬ sᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ▬▬▬▬▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂
Ylesia; a tropical world consisting of three small continents. Upon one of the three, and near the ocean, a part of the jungles are inhabited by two hunters, which both are present for the same thing: to hunt. Though they do not know another is in the area, they do know that there is game to be hunted. Or is there?
▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▬▬▬▬ ᴀ ʜᴜɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ▬▬▬▬▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂
The sounds of the jungle's natural life inhabitants filled Gav Juniper Arwell's ears, in which was a good tool for hunting. Sounds could tell someone if there's prey nearby, or if they've alerted them. Those sounds could be easily identified, and she'd heard both sounds in the last few hours of her silent hunt. Since she'd left Grieak, which had been many months ago, Gav hadn't been able to hunt- due to being cooped up in a metal box that could fly. Gav didn't understand those who've lived around such environment. How did they exercise? How did they manage to keep their mental states sane and satisfied? It was a question that would remain without an answer.
Gav's fingertips brushed along the grips of her bow, in which an arrow rested on its string and metal base. The weapon was something she'd dragged out of her father's things before she'd left Grieak, in which she assumed it was her father's secondary weapon- next to the lightsaber in which she called her own. The set fit almost like a glove, which was kinda weird in a way. The bow wasn't a glove- so it couldn't possibly fit. She'd heard the captain say the phrase while in the star ship, which he had explained to her why it made sense. Though, she didn't see it as a very logical statement. 'It's a saying, it ain't suppose literally mean 'it fits like a glove'. It's just a way of saying an object feels right, and works perfectly amongst it's first uses.'
Ya, totally makes sense.
Shaking the thoughts from her mind, Gav snapped back to what she was currently doing. Hanging onto the past was bad, and caused bad things. 'Moarning causes distractions.'
The old saying from her tribe hung in the air, which aggravated Gav quite a lot. When she talked, she used the same wisdomful sayings and words to correct someone, or she'd try to explain why something doesn't make sense, even around those who think she's crazy. But she wasn't, pretty level headed actually. What they needed to understand was- well- inexperience with space people.
Sitting in silence on her branch, which was leveled with the forest canopy, Gav moved her eyes downward, looking to see if she could kill anything. Gav remained silent, using her dull hazel eyes to spot anything that moved.