03-22-2021, 01:46 AM
(This post was last modified: 03-22-2021, 01:49 AM by Shyvnierri.)
It's my turn to keep the wolves away
Weeks now it would be upon us again, the ancestral march, the tantalizing allure of our ancestor's pact where herds gathered and violence became taboo. Archaic wars were not spoken of; the blood of our brothers boiling beneath the tethers of restraint. Their calls for vengeance became a muted mewl against the jovial horns of the festivities. Soon, all of Idris would gather at the brushvield merry-met and merry-part. A time of peace; a time of respite. I longed to see what had become of the others I'd met in years past. Had they survived the harsh throes of winter? Were they prosperous where I had not been? Even now I recall my turmoils as I march away from the forest I called home and loped into the mountains where the whispers of herbs called to me. ࿙෴࿚
Though the howling winds of the mountain-side served her an omen through rapacious nips and banshee screams, Shyvnierri grew deaf to the advice. There was a sense of youthful determination in her stride as she waded through the hock-deep snow and pushed beyond the veil of piercing ice. While some may have perceived it as bravery, it was - in fact - a feat of naievity. Despite the warnings and the threat of nightfall, she could not be swayed to turn away and back into the welcoming cradle of the forest. Northfall's supplies were dwindling to nothing. While she attempted to gather what she could within their small territory, the sick were only growing sicker. It wouldn't be long until they were mourning the lost. Not on my watch! Gathering the strength of her haunches, the lean doe cleared a fallen pine and continued up the mountain-side where rumours of a rare herb reside. If she could only find it and then return... The thought of victory clouded her judgment as she went to step on frail footing, slipping inches down the slope before catching herself before making the final tumble down into a dark, ominous craig. Her heart hammered in her chest; her body pulsed with adrenaline and her body began to move now with sincere caution. She couldn't afford to be so reckless. If she fell now - if she could not return... Northfall was done for. Swallowing her fear, Shy continued. It would be what felt like hours before the first signs of greenery welcomed the young does gaze and a spark of hope lingered behind the peach glimmer of her delighted iris. It had to be here! And so she began to dig, oblivious to the world around her, intent only on clearing the snow away from the plants in the small clearing. She would find it; she had to. |
Jahi
Note: Set before the festival of elkmire