Hunting for [{T}ruth]less (Chase/Chaos)
Dec 10, 2010 15:02:50 GMT -5
Post by Meeka on Dec 10, 2010 15:02:50 GMT -5
Kaya Lentach
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♥ ♥ ♥
Thoughts of you
My hand clenched white
[/size]My hand clenched white
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My breath comes as a thin wisp of translucent smoke, the cluster breaking up and ascending into the frigid night air. The sky seems very much like a velvet sheet, adorned with the many brilliant stars that are scattered across it. The pale, almost-round moon bears down on me, lighting the snowy ground and unfortunately not masking me from my prey. My polished, cherry bow, my prized possession, feels cold as unrelenting marble in my hands, fingers clenched tightly around it.
The quiver carrying my arrows is pulled loosely across my shoulder blade as I crouch low, detecting a sound that for once is not the crunching of the snow beneath my boots. Despite being an obvious give away, the sound proved it rather difficult for me to hear any approaching animals. In a heightened sense of awareness, I catch sight of a larger animal, skirting off into the undergrowth. Nimbly, I produce an arrow, resting it against the taut string. Released, the arrow whips through the air, emitting a sharp whistling. I groan when it hits something with a dull sound, clearly not boring through any fur and cartilage.
I wince, pulling myself up from my crouched and rather uncomfortable position. Frowning, I spot my red arrowhead, the silver top clearly protruding from the thick bark of a tree it has lodged itself in. Disappointed, I stalk over to the wayward arrow and pull it out. I have not been hunting for a while, having been slightly preoccupied with Flight and with Trig. But now, I feel the adrenaline of the hunt, the pure freedom of it all - the very reason I have always enjoyed the company of the woods - coursing through me. With no worries apart from the arrow not hitting its designated target, I don't think that I've felt lighter at heart in ages.
I remember distant, and yet so very familiar, childhood memories of these woods. Especially the times I would spend with Flight, back when she had still been Tammy and the entire world had seemed so much easier and so much fairer. It's the last winter I had with Flight, before we were seperated.- - -
"Tammy! Wait up!" I'm frustrated, I told her before that I don't like to run in the snow. This year, the amount of snow has been growing
at an alarming rate and the snow almost reaches past my thighs. I frown, pouting as she stops a few meters away. There's a grin on her lips as she surveys me, one eyebrow raised over a yellow eye so that I can practically feel the laughter she is containing. I cross my arms over my chest, frowing her the deadliest look I can muster. I've perfected that look of doom a number of times and it appears naturally whenever I am irritated at her.
"You're going too fast and the snow is getting inside my boots!" My voice borders on a pitious whine. She sighs as if I am just that much of a nuisance to keep around and walks closer. Satisfied, I smile and finally budge, shaking my wild locks behind my ears, a triumphant look blazing in my eyes. Tammy keeps pace with me and I still see an amused twitch of her lips before she finally says, "is it my fault that the snow is taller than you this year?" Her teasing jab at my height is what earns her a snowball to the face. I have only a split second in which to laugh at her perplexed expression before I receive a facefull of snow, icicles slipping beneath my jacket. "Take it back!" I shout, laughing as I tackle her forcefully into the snow. "Never!" she says, laughing sardonically even as I stuff a handful of snow down her jacket.
We wrestle until we're out of breath, and I give in first, calling a truce when my fingers have gone completely numb, the skin splitting in the dry cold. At least the snow in my boots is the least of my worries now. "Slow hunting day, hm, Kaya?" I grin, realising that my family expected me to go hunting and return with food. "Only because the game saw your ugly face and ran away screaming," I retort jokingly, which earns me another snowball to the shoulder. My family has taken a strong disliking to Tammy, so I can't use her as an excuse. My mother always says something about Tammy being a bad influence, while my father persists that she is "poison to the family."- - -
The harsh wind seems almost tame, even though my cheeks have turned rosy from the cold. The snow appears to be glistening and I find it all frightfully beautiful. But there is a nagging thought in the very back of my mind, a small voice that reminds me that even the wonder of this wood is misleading. The faint footsteps, very unlike that of a stealthy animal, alert me to an alien presence. I whirl around at the noise.
♥ ♥ ♥
wishing you well