• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Fantasy Tribal Mountains // Fantasy

fluteloops

One Time Luck
Perched atop a slowly waving tree, a girl aimed her drawn bow at a grazing buck. The air whistled as the girl broke from her statue-like stance. The bow's string snapped, breaking the silence like a hammer on steel. The dull thunk of metal driving itself into wood made her pause, one leg removed from the swaying branch, as the buck let out a piteous bleat. She fumbled for another arrow and drew her bow as she leaped down, rustling the three-pointed leaves of the maple as she stumbled forward. On the ground, the buck lay with its legs sprawled out at odd angles. The arrow left a large gash on its front left leg. She shook her head sympathetically and tucked her arrow into a leather quiver slung over her shoulder, producing a small blade from a pocket shortly after.

The polished blade reflected her tearful face as she kneeled next to the buck. It began to push itself upward, failing to steady itself on its wounded leg. When its legs finally buckled underneath it, after just five seconds, the girl caught the animal and lowered it to the ground. The light danced across her face as it reflected off the steel in her hand. She felt once more in her pocket and found the cloth and powdered kraq root she used to bandage and treat wounds. She glanced around at the wild foliage. Just west grew a patch of winter leaf, which would numb the animal's leg. If she could find an ujuper flower, she could put the animal to sleep before she patched its wound to keep it still. She glanced at the sun. It neared the horizon, dipping just below the treetops. By the time she could find the herbs she needed, it would be sunset, and the tribe would be expecting her back with food. She brushed her fingers over the leather handle of the blade. If she didn't put the poor animal out of its misery, another animal may finish it first. She glanced around once more. The distinct sky blue ujuper flower was nowhere near her.


> Kill the deer
> Try to patch the wound
> Try to find ujuper
 
Last edited:
> Kill the deer

She twirls the dagger once more in her fingers and shakes her head like a dog trying to rid itself of water. She went out for food, and there's no way that the poor animal will heal before another comes to finish it off. She cursed her poor aim and vowed, as she did many times before, to never shoot with a bow again. What was the use of hunting, she wondered, if you couldn't at least cause minimal pain?

The deer began to writhe under her grip as she neared its neck, bleating and groaning as she tried to steady it. Finally, she grabbed its antlers and held his head to the ground. It went limp in defeat. She let go and gingerly stood, walking toward the patch of winter leaf and glancing back every few steps to ensure that the buck had not tried to run. She pulled up a handful of greens from the ground, pulling the roots out with them. She broke one open, and a thick nectar began to leak out. Determined to make the animal's death painless, she dabbed some onto one of her bandage cloths and began to dab it onto the wound, testing after each application whether the buck would still react to pressure. When she was satisfied, after only a minute's work, she wiped the remainder on the animal's chest and turned it's head to face away. She hoped that the deer couldn't see her as she lined her dagger up with its heart and plunged it in, wincing as she saw the buck, at last, go completely limp.

She glanced up once more. The sun was now halfway below the treetops, casting a golden ray across her face. She pulled out the blade and wiped it on the ground. At sunset, someone would come on horseback to fetch her and the deer. She brushed away a stray brown hair and leaned back against the saim nearby tree she had jumped from not moments before. Her dagger still at the ready, she lounged for half an hour before she heard the steady thump of hooves against the soft forest floor. She pulled herself to her feet and readjusted the quiver on her shoulder. A chestnut Arabian strolled into the clearing, stopping just short of the buck laying on the ground.

"Successful, Alexa?" asked the rider. He climbed down and smiled, running his fingers through his hair.

"Hardly," she replied, shaking her head. "I missed the shot again and hit his front leg."

The guy frowned. "I hope you didn't let him suffer."

"I may be a bad shot, but I'm not heartless. There was a patch of winter leaf just west of here, I numbed the wound and the place where I stabbed him. He shouldn't have felt a thing."

"Good. You'll want to keep up with your training, though, if you want to go out on your mission."

"Right, Adam, like my dad will ever let me stay out of the camp longer than sunset." She helped him wrap ropes around the buck's chest and stomach. He pulled the ends up and attached them to the horse's leather harness. She remembered her first time trying to make one. They were her father's own invention, strong enough to stay on the horse while pulling a deer back to camp. She grabbed another end and started knotting it around one of the metal buckles.

"I heard differently." He smirked. "Agnes told me that your father..."

> "...plans to let you leave in one week for a month-long espionage trip."
> "...is holding up his end of the deal. He'll let you go on your sixteenth birthday."
> "...is preoccupied with battle preparations. He may not notice if you were to stay out."
 
Last edited:

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top