Nirauan was beautiful at this hour of the morning, where the first breath of day passed over the mountains and the sun kissed the earthen floor in a warmth and array of light that lit up the countryside. The sound of the Birds awakening, singing to their young while the chicks all chirped and cried for their morning meal; regurgitated worms with a side of bile for perfect seasoning, life's twisted sense of humor within something so disturbingly innocent. So few of the new life in this forest would survive out a full year, predators of all kinds staking a claim on every level of the food chain of every world, the vicious cycle of the unending fight for survival, Ylva Solveig knew it oh so well.
Enveloped within the greens and browns of the Forest, her attire of furs atop hand crafted leathers kept her both insulated and hidden as she pressed her weight down upon one knee, her left foot propped forward, head and shoulders low to the cover of the shroud of plants and foliage around her. Within her hands stirred the custom made Bow, her preferred weapon of choice with a single wooden shaft tipped with a poly-alloy arrowhead notched against it's durable wire, not yet pulled but held facing the soil beneath her while she watched, ever so still and ever so silent. Listening. Waiting.
Further ahead came the sound, the first sign of her prey just a little ways south of where she sat perched among the borough. To the east the Sun had arisen and to the west it wet set in the eve, yet for now it told her plenty well what she would find ahead. The river rapids ran just shy of a single kilometer away from there, a good place for an easy kill if only her target would move on that way. Next came the call, the Nerf letting loose the call to others, soon echoed from her left and to the rear. She had not expected so many and they were large creatures despite their docile appearance, these beasts carried the mass of cattle and bore the horns of a bull, their speed and physic however were unrivaled within Nurauan's known herbivores and like the deer, they could take flight at any time; moving in herds a head on confrontation could get you killed as quickly as any man eater there.
Surrounded by these magnificent creatures, their hides would keep her warm in the night while the meat she could harvest would offer a solid few days meal were she to fry and dry it into a jerky. It was surprising as a child to see just how long one could live off of dried aged meat when conscious and taste was cast aside for the sake of living out ones days in such an isolated world. There were few other people in the area, Ylva had come across only a handful that sought to traverse the tombs and ruins of older structures from ancient times before her life, all whom usually wound up dead and leaving her with a gift in their passing. It wasn't an easy living nor a morale one yet she was one of the wilds, a castaway with little a coin to her name let alone a ways off from the only place she really knew. What Ylva expected to be outside of Nirauan was without a doubt just as putrid as the acts of the Clan in her days since passed. She who had learned to scrap like the best of them, living among larger men and fighting most every day with them over the remains of meals she hadn't killed until eventually she took up arms and began to hunt for her own sake, it was almost a rite of passage with the exception of their being any praise nor traditions among them. Clan Solveig, it sounded like a great house of high lords the way they spoke of themselves yet they had been thieves, rogues, murderers and worse; Their end had been justified by her means and intent for the future. One where she needed not the concern of being rushed in the night during one of Akron's hunts.
It was true that you could only back a dog so far into a corner before it was forced to bare it's teeth and learn to either obey or go through you. Ylva had never been one for rules, she had learned to become the she-wolf of their pack, hunting them down as she did now the Nerf. Slowly creeping closer through the thick underbrush of the great tree fall, bow slowly lifting as she closed in on the great buck. Her first shot would be a scare tactic, she rarely missed but if she hit the leg, it would seek to flee and in doing so, find itself between her and the river wild. Calculated and precise, she moved to rise slowly out from the palms of leaves and cover, the first arrow head being loosed from her bow, the air spiraling around it's feathered tail as it soared gracefully through the day break, a shot that near defied the eyes in it's velocity, a blur of black and the subtle splash of blood as the sound of flesh being punctured like a cushion of air spoke true her mark was hit.
So begins the first hunt of the day.
[member="Théodred Heavenshield"]