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+--- Thread: Wapun Meadow The delicate art of bird herding (/showthread.php?tid=32946)
The delicate art of bird herding - Sorin - February 21, 2019
@Liri and @Siqsa Takes place the morning after this thread. Let me know if I should edit anything here, as I know there is some pp. Also, we can determine success or failure via dice, or we can all just catch a bird, I don't care either way.
Sorin had led his new companions out into the meadow as the first rays of morning sunlight touched the ground below. Liri and him had discussed the hunt the night before, and had filled Siqsa in when they had all woken. Now, he looked out out across the wide meadow, his nose searching for any scent he could find. The pheasants he was searching for would be most active at this time, although they would be harder to locate given the winter conditions. Nonetheless, Sorin was hopeful."Keep your ears open for any cackles, and your nose sharp for scent," he murmured quietly to the two, before striding out into the snow covered meadow. He inhaled deeply, trying to pick up on any scent. Unfortunately, no scent came readily. However, he had hardly expected it to be so easy.
He continued on, only just aware of his companions, totally focused in on the hunt. Stalking pheasant took extreme focus, if one wasn't careful, the birds could be long gone by the time any scent was picked up. Thus, it also took a good deal of patience. He roamed on the plain, zigging and zagging so as to cover as much ground as possible while still going in a general westerly direction.
Finally, he picked up on scent, and stopped quickly. He took a good whiff, guessing around four or five birds. Perfect numbers for the three of them. He followed the scent more carefully now, going slower as the scent became hotter and hotter. The birds led them on for a ways, before suddenly the scent became incredibly fresh. He stopped quickly, gesturing with a slight flick of his tail for the others to do the same.
Sorin scanned the area ahead, seeing the large bushes that stretched on for many paces before giving way to more grassland. He had no doubt the birds where holed up in the bush. "Siqsa you're the ambusher. Stalk your way around the cover in front to the other side. Wait on the edge, but don't sit right in front of the bushes. When I give the signal, get ready to grab a bird on the fly."
Sorin waited a while, wanting to give the other man plenty of time before Liri and him started pushing the birds. While they waited, Soirn gave her instructions. "I'll set the pace, so just try to match it. If any bird strays away from the main grouping, herd it back in towards Siqsa. Don't push them too hard though, they'll flush early if you do. Better to take it easy." He waited to see if she had any questions before starting the stalk.
RE: The delicate art of bird herding - Síff - February 21, 2019
The meadow was a place of memory for Liri, for she had visited it since her earliest days in Teekon when she was a mere recruit for Aaron's Rosings. It held none of its usual lively vibrancy - in winter, Sundown Meadow was a dreary, bleak place but only on the surface. Life was well tucked away within the hidden corners and niches if one knew where to look.
The tundrian was inwardly grateful to defer to the raven's knowledge. She knew little about hunting avian game, she was far more familiar with the large game of Teekon - particularly ungulates. The fae trails after her companions, pallid pelt camouflaging her well against the blanket of white as she lifted her paws to travel through the deep mire of snow. It was made slightly more strenuous with her tenacious balance of uneven limbs and the northron was grateful to reach the edge of the quiet field, light-headed from her injuries and ailments.
The healer glanced to Sorin and with a nod of affirmation, began to move outwards as she sweeped the territory for the scent of a bird.
There were few tracks to be found in the disturbed snow and it made scent faint but the tracker locked onto the faint scent of fowl with a twitch of her pale plume. Nose pressed lightly to the icy sludge, the huntress turned abruptly and continued to follow the trail with her head hung low to the ground.
The fae jumped visibly, startled from her quest by the movement of Sorin's ebony appendage from the corner of her eye. The girl hurried to his side on eager paws, tail wagging with anticipation. Not only did she enjoy hunting, but it was also an opportunity to see the dark titan in action.
The plan was laid out, Siqsa stalked away - a black jaguar prowling towards its unsuspecting prey - to lay in wait. Liri glanced to her comrade, nodding determinedly as a set of instructions was given.
It seemed simple enough - keep the birds together, don't startle them too quickly - but the sylph could feel nerves brewing in the pit of her stomach. She didn't want to mess up the hunt on account of her inexperience.
The healer glanced to Sorin, waiting for his cue.
RE: The delicate art of bird herding - Sorin - March 11, 2019
Gonna nudge @Siqsa again[ooc]. Also, let me know if I need to edit anything.
[/ooc]Sorin watches Siqsa stalk away carefully, nodding imperceptibly to himself as the man heads toward the edge of cover. Sorin turns toward Liri again, seeing the determination in her eyes as she nodded in conformation. he grinned briefly, hunting always made him eager too. "Try to keep my tail in sight, I'll give you signals that way. Straight up is either stop or don't pursue, anything to either side means herd a bird back." He hoped it wasn't too much information at once. He had confidence in her abilities though, she wouldn't have survived this long without them. "You'll do fine" he murmured, before diving into the brush.
Sorin slowed pushed his way through the thick cover, going slow so as to not kick the birds up too soon. Pheasant hunting this way took a lot of delicacy. Push too aggressive, and the birds would fly early, Push too passive, and the birds would split up and run in a million different directions, or reach the edge of cover before the pushers could position themselves to be part of the catching. He had to try and keep them going somewhat straight out ahead, towards were Siqsa lay in wait, and he had to keep up, without being overly fast. It took a lot of patience and careful scenting and listening, because there was no way to see the birds in all the thick brush.
Suddenly, Sorin heard a bird run off from the main group, heading to his right. He briefly flicked his tail in that direction, slowing down slightly to allow Liri time to bring the bird back towards the main group. they were close to the edge now, so it would likely be time to spring the trap once Liri presumably brought the bird back towards Siqsa. Sorin stopped altogether after a few more careful paces, waiting.
After a few more moments in which he hoped Liri had succeeded, Sorin flicked his tail straight up, signaling Liri to stop and hopefully catching Siqsa's attention as the ready sign. He could hear the pheasants, just on the edge of the cover. He then slammed his tail down horizontal with his back, springing forward with a burst of speed and startling the pheasants fully out of cover. The birds started to fly, but Sorin had a bead on on and leapt after it, aiming just above where the pheasant was starting to lift off. As the bird caught sight of him, it increased its upward pace, right into the shadow's waiting jaws.
He wrenched the pheasant back down and quickly dispatched it with a bite to the neck, his mouth full of feathers and the metallic tang of blood. Sorin turned towards the others, curious to see how they had fared.
RE: The delicate art of bird herding - Síff - March 15, 2019
Sith'ari has informed me that they will be reactivating Siqsa's account. In the meantime, I'm gonna go ahead and try to move this along since it's getting kind of stagnant; Sith, feel free to hop in at any point. :) Sorry this got so long guys, I was a little bored with having either a successful outcome or having her fail. I figured why not halfway catch two birds for a twist lol?
"Tail up, stop. Tail to the side, get the bird. Got it, " she repeated in a whisper, Siqsa's shadowy length disappearing into the cover of undergrowth, somewhat anxiously. The fae could not restrain the slight tremors that trembled along her pale limbs, anticipation coiling in the pit of her gut. Liri's eyes flicked upwards at the encouragement, meeting a gaze as warm and green as summer - smiling kindly in thanks.
The huntress slipped into a crouch, following a foot or so behind Sorin's extended tail. Padding after the dark wraith's silent footsteps as he burrowed into the tangle of brambles, the healer found herself grateful for the diminutive stature nature had afforded her, for the absence of her limb, as she squeezed through narrow gaps at Sorin's heels.
The raven moved stealthily, broad paws placed with care upon the snowy floor of the forest. His large form dipped and weaved gracefully through the thicket, careful not to disturb the spiny branches. Liri could see his ebony auds flickering in her peripherals though her concentrated gaze was locked resolutely on the length of his tail.
Liri found herself imitating the Direwood's behavior subconsciously, though the sylph didn't pick up nearly as much information as he. Truly it seemed that Sorin listened to the very forest, responding to its prompts and cues. Renewed respect and admiration for the male caused her to glance up at the back of his onyx crown, lingering for a heartbeat.
The tiniest of noises and the plume of his tail swung right. Liri's gaze shot to the appendage before darting silently in that direction.
The scent of pheasant lingered upon the branches but there was no sign of the fowl, no sound to be heard. The tundrian drew to a halt, head cocking as she breathed deeply - attempting to scent the bird if it was anywhere nearby.
A soft rustle, the sound of a small talon upon dead leaves.
Liri lunged to her left and promptly crashed to the ground as her phantom limb flared to life with a flash of fire.
Darkness overtook the Blackfoot's vision. Blood pooled metallically upon her tongue, not that of the bird but her own. It was only fear of ruining the hunt that kept her from crying out. And caused her to sink her teeth into her own lip to smother her harsh breathing. Liri struggled to steady her breath as waves of pain rolled over her, slowly retreating to the stump at her hip to burrow into her bones.
When at last it had ebbed to a bearable ache, the healer became aware of the heat gathering under her pelt and the cold sweat that had broken out across her skin. The healer became aware of another lighter pain digging into her ribs caused by a lumpy, uncomfortable object beneath her.
The fae rose on shaky legs, rising to her paws to find the pheasant crumpled beneath her. She'd forgotten about her target during the flare, assuming it had fled.
It was a hen, her soft brown feathers flecked with iridescent greens and purples that glinted lowly in the din. Liri appeared to have slammed into the ground right atop its hiding spot, crushing it to death before it even knew what hit it. The northron bit her bloody lip once more to stifle a laugh.
It wasn't exactly a traditional catch but it was food.
Liri took the fowl gently in her jaws, withholding a hiss of pain as she bent, before padding back towards her friends.
She came upon the pair as they were settling into position. She shot Siqsa a nod, indicating that she had retrieved the bird and he would need to select a new target from within the foliage. Liri drew to a halt by Sorin as his tail raised, resting the bird at her paws.
She half-crouched, limbs shaking with pain as she lay in wait. The healer prayed to the spirits that Sorin wouldn't turn, wouldn't attempt to seek her gaze. Liri knew he would be able to read the agony throbbing under her skin and she had no desire to disrupt his carefully laid strategies.
Her teeth ground together silently as she readied to pounce, a stab of relief shooting through her as Sorin's tail dropped once more. The two shadows burst forth, causing a flock of the winged creatures to take to flight. Sorin's flanks bunched beneath him as he reared back on his hind legs to snatch a pheasant from the air. Liri caught a glimpse of Siqsa as she dove forward, angling her body so as to avoid the males. A collision with one of their powerful bodies would be enough to knock her breathless. Unfortunately, the dragon was blocked from view and the sylph was unable to see how he fared.
Her mouth closed around one of the lower flying birds, one that had yet to truly gain speed with the desperate flaps of its wings. Liri felt teeth render flesh, tasted fresh blood on her tongue. A soft crunch accompanied the snap of her jaws just before it slipped free and fell to the ground.
The injury was not quite enough to kill it though a broken wing and bleeding wounds prevented it from going anywhere. It called out softly in distress as the healer thudded against the ground nearby.
The waif remained where she was, giving in to the arthritic pain that demanded to be felt. Her eyes flicked to the injured pheasant but she made no move to dispatch it for she had not the strength.
The journey to the meadow in the mire of snow, the hunt - it had all been harder than she expected. Her lungs burned with the cold air, a lingering reminder of the disease that had nearly claimed her life, and nausea rolled in her gut as a tight band closed around her chest. She'd not quite grown used to not having her leg, even if it had been damaged beyond repair prior to the lightning strike.
She rose unsteadily after a moment, attempting to shake off the remnants of pain that throbbed through her with every step. It would pass soon or so she hoped.
Her gaze lifted to the other two, hoping she had concealed most of her ailments from them, checking to see that they were alright.