The Mighty Hunter

Log Info

• Title: The Mighty Hunter
• Emitter: Cryosanthia
• Characters: Cryosanthia, Tenoc
• Place: W02: Mictlan
• Time: Friday, September 18, 2020, 11:04 PM
• Summary: It is late. Cryosanthia is cleaning the Swiftraptor corral and using it as an opportunity to educate Lily. Primarily that the Kobold should never, ever go near them as she is snack-sized. Tenoc arrives with a group of hunters and goes to see the lone sith woman. Cryo is startled by company, then engages in conversation and asks how the hunt went. Tenoc insists he is not a story teller, but goes on to tell a very engaging one which prompts Lily to pretend to be a little hunter and try to slay him in the manner that Tenoc did with Tusk, a giant boar. The tale is enjoyed with much squealing and screaming, and afterwards Cryo admonishes Lily for secretly taking Tenoc's beads. Tenoc explains that each bead is a story, and Cryo adds that if the kobold takes them she will have them without the stories, and that it is better to have the thing and the memory. Tenoc gives Lily a single ivory bead that contains the tale just told, and Cryo promises they will make him a replacement so he can have his story still, and a memory of the telling. Tenoc then invites the two to join him with the other hunters.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* W02: Mictlan *>-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Located within the Deep Woods, and hours past Wilderness Pointe, in the heart of its northern woods, bones frame this hollowed-out space. Massive and heavy, they reach towards the sky, meeting--almost--in the center like great and worn stalagmites. Or giant teeth. After a few seconds--it's quickly evident that this is a space carved from a dragon's bones. A very, very large...dragon's bones. The air smells of ash, brimstone, and earth. Underneath the apex of the bones lie the workings of a central Fire.

The grounds are run by shamans of the sith-makar, and the sacred space dedicated to the Death Singing Dragon, one of their names for the goddess, Vardama. There are always a number of them about, from a mixture of tribes. Formally, the sith use it to sing the souls of their dead back to the land of Wing and Flame, and celebrate the Memory of Blood. It was here that brave heroes stood, and vanquished the ashen warriors of old, thereby freeing the land from Thul's curse. Informally, it is a gathering place.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  Appearing, in Order  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Cryosanthia  6'9"     291 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman.
Tenoc        7'0"     280 Lb     Sith-Makar        Male      Tall, green-scaled Sith'Makar hunter
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

Outside of Mictlan, the sky is dark, the wind chilly. Inside, the spells of the Shaman-Caste maintain a temperature pleasant to the sith'makar. Fall and winter does not come here, but it also isn't Am'shere.

The cooking fires have burned low, the food finished, though late hunters are always welcome. It's evening and nothing can be done about the skies, they remain dark.

Over by the Swiftraptor corral, a whitescale woman is mucking it out. She's wearing white leathers and white gloves, which show every splash of dirt and other detrius. Seated nearby, quite far back from the fence, is a small carnation-scaled youngling. Who is obviously a kobold child for anyone who is a sith or familiar with them.

"Lily, ssstay sssitting. Sswiftclawss will sswallow you whole." The whitescale cautions, checking the pink one. Swiftclaws are dangerous to full sized sith'makar as well. She's taking care with her work. "Never walk in front." <draconic>

The evening stretches on, sunset's fiery colors fading from rainbow hues to the last molten embers. Bright enough to be seen, but dim enough that the fires are needed for their light. The huntsre have returned, by twos and threes; a grand party rejocing in the boar that they caught, and a few with braces of hares, sacks of fresh-caught frogs, fish, a daring soul or three with bags of slithering eels. Among them, Tenoc strides with his weary step-- subtle, carefully hidden, bone-weariness kept behind the stoic mask he wears.

"Hssk. Be sure to speak with the Elders to distribute the hunt," he rumbles, pausing to stretch slowly-- eyeing the bit of haunch slow-simmering over the cooking flames. "Look to spears too," he adds, jerking his head back with a rumbling grin. "Sharpen longtooth properly! We will catch Forest King tomorrow, maybe. Celecration!"

Rumbles and hisses of approval come from the small hunting party; turning from his fellows, he trudges over to the enclosure, reaching over to brush the youngling's top before steeling himself, striding onward. "Peace, SPeaker," he rumbles, dipping down into low bow. "Do you need aid?"

Cryosanthia turns her head, one eye on the Swiftclaws, always watch them, to face Tenoc. A ripple of tension flicks through her. An unknown male is near her youngling! The maternal instincts are high in her and there is a second before she gets control of them. A second of readiness, warning scent, before she's calm again.

It sets off the Swiftclaws enough to distract them from their meals. They look her way. As her scents fade to something calmer, their attention wavers.

"Ssassa?" The kobold youngling asks, looking at Cryo then Tenoc. She remains sitting on a pack.

"It's ok, Lily. Thiss one is friend." She consoles, then looks at Tenoc again. "Peace, Hunter-Caste This one apologizes. Aid would be appreciated. You are experienced?"

"..ssk. Some." He glances askance, eyes surveying the swiftclaws with studied care. "I know some things about them," he adds, setting the greatspear to one side of the child. Rumb.ling quiet apology, he shakles his head, a quiver of rattling bones echoing faintly in the air; beads click and clack against beads, bone and wooden in turn about the idle necklace as he clambers in.

"This one apologizes in turn," he adds for Cryosanthia alone, more softly. "I was foolish. Approached before announcing. Too near young one." He glances back at said child, sheepish. "Long day is not excuse."

The kobold youngling seems fascinatd by the rattling bones. She makes a gleeful squeak and hold up her hands towards them as Tenoc rumbles his first apology. Then, he has moved away, so she ends up examining the great spear.

The whitescale watches as Tenoc approaches, dipping her head as she hears his second one. "Thank you. This one has had many shocks." She sounds and smells embarassed, then inhales and draws herself up.

"This one is Cryosanthia, Speaker-Caste. Thank you for your offer to help. I am cleaning their area, some of the waste and offal is needed for tanning. The rest I will remove with magic. This one wanted to show Lily the proper way..." Even though she will never be large enough to be near a swiftclaw.

"Long day hunting?"

Tenoc rumbles evenly, dipping his head in a quick nod. "The hunting in the drylands is much different than Am'shere," he answers, settling with a long, weary sigh. "But fruitful," he adds, a grin teasing his features; he looks back to the gathering hunters, the exagerrated movements of one already displaying the classic pastttime-- storytelling. "Much hunting, but nothing to show here. Still, one is content-- more hunters to add to those present. More learning of the strange things..."

He blinks, jerking his head back with a long, elaborate bow. "Sssk. This one is Tenoc, Hunter-Caste. No tribe." The last added with a sour expression, as if he had bitten an unripe persimmon. "Recently come to this place beyond the Great Gate. It is...." He grimaces again, expression sour. "...cold."

The land is cold, and it seems the immediate area around the whitescale is a little cooler also, the temperature dropping a few degrees. She nods, making a gesture at herself, "It does, it gets a lot colder. This one is not bothered because of her scales, but you will feel it soon. The land becomes white, the beasts change colour. It is fascinating and not like home."

She reaches out, gently touching Tenoc's near forearm, "Your ancestors live through you." Her fingers were frigid, she withdraws them.

"This one does enjoy stories of the hunt, the others are sharing. Do you have some?" She tilts her head.

"Tenoc! Peace on your Nesstss! Ssstory!" Lily claps and calls.

Tenoc hisses laughter, stroking his chin with elaborate care before he nods, rumbling a quiet ahh. "This one is not a storyteller," he admits, turning back, settling alongside Lily with a nod. "But, one day not long ago, when Tenoc is first come to the Land of Whitestuff and Too Much Cold--"

He settles with a sly grin, eyes twinkling. "Mmm. Many creatures here, not as those of home. Furred ones, horned ones, small ones-- so many small ones! --and large ones too. Some start small, but become so BIG!" He swells his chest with a breath, arms gesturing wide to either side as he stares at the youngling. "One is-- hssk --not named, But mighty, huge, grand boar-pig-thing. Hard skin, tough, mean, ornery." He grins, tilting his head slyly. Could tell about him. But who would wish to hear of smart, clever tusk-thing that steals knife and leaves hanging from mountainside?"

Cryosanthia listens. She keeps raking, working the waste into the corner she's picked for that, and her head never quite turns so much that she can't see the Swiftclaws and keep a distance to them. Her tailtip sways as she follows the tail, clear amusement, "One that does want to lose a knife to the same? This one has not heard of the Grand Boar, but knows they would be tough to down. Their flesh is delicious, when it is brought in."

She sounds excited now, possibly hungry.

Lily stares up at the huge sith'makar beside her, watching him talk and occasionally rattle. Her tail is all over the place, especially as he demonstrates the size of the beasts. For her, everything is huge, but she likes the idea that small things might get larger.

Tenoc shifts in position, drawing himself crosslegged. "We gathered as a group of hunters," he explains, relishing the moment as he leans down to eye-level with the youngling. "It was Tenoc's first, hunting in new lands something so large. Tooth and claw and knife and spear. Though no spear was so grand or large as Sharptooth." He gesture sto the weapon alongside, smooth handle gleaming in the evening light.

"We stalked, hunted, searched. Three days--" His words become lower, a rumbling whisper; he gestures with his hands, fingers stepping through the tall grass. "--three days. Saw wolf-things, and birds. Tall creatures, things large and small. But not Tusk, not until third morning, third day--" He pauses, glancing to one side, to the other-- elaborate, as if before sharing a deep secret. "...we sneaked up on him," he murmurs, voice quiet-sounding, but loud enough to carry. "Stalked in, snaked in, stole in. One threw his spear too soon; the Tusk surged, twisted, ran. He would get away-- he might get away! But Silver guides-- he ran straight at *Tenoc*!"

Lily leaps to her feet, hisses a 'rawrr' and runs right at Tenoc. A distance of less than a meter, with her arms held wide and her mouth open.

Cryo laughs also, a slow hiss, and makes strong strokes with the rake. The contemplative and practical task getting in the way now. It needs to be done, but she wants to be done.

"Long hunts, Lily. Hunters are out for days. They work together. Listen carefully." Cryo winks, "There will be a test after." Tenoc affects wide eyes, hissing in mock-alarm as he leans back from fearsome Lily!

"Is true!" he adds, leaning forward again witnh a grin. Chortling a teakettle rumble, he folds his arms beneath him, rumbling with welcome pleasure as the story unfolds. "Where was one--? Ah! Charging wicked Tusks!"

He sits back up, eyes intense. "So. Tusk comes! Sharp tusks, wicked tusks, bright and shiny and glittery-wicked tusks! Made to punch through softskin ones and be hurtful. But large, so shows that boar is old, and clever. He bears down, and then-- dodges at last moment!" Broad arms flash wide, Tenoc leaning to the side to illustrate. "Boar did doge spear, so only thing left-- grab handful of thick, sharp, old hair. Hauled aboard grand pig-- hauled *away* as it ran!" He grins, sitting up again as he winks. "And it ran and ran and ran! Tenoc tried to bring down, bite and chew and stab with sharp knife. But old boar, he does not feel. Ignores biting, and stabbing, and clawing. Ignores, and runs and runs until forest becomes rock. Until wood becomes hill, and cliff, and mountain. And *then*--"

Tenoc snorts, crossing his arms in mock affront. "Tossed from back of great boar. Now, Tenoc hangs from cliff-edge, and is cold. And knife is still in boar as it trots away!"

Lily squeals gleefully as Tenoc leans forward, then hides to one side, crouching as if that makes her invisible. When he describes being dragged along by the boar, she jumps and then climbs him. Tiny claws grab at clothes and scale plates, she ends up on top of Tenoc. She beats lightly with her tiny fists, her voice eager and high pitched, "Bite! Claw! Stab. Stab!"

Cryo grins, watching, her lips peeled back and showing all her teeth. A playful swish to her raking, "Here comes the cliff Lily. You're going to be tossed! Oh no!"

Tenoc roars laughter-- then mock-roars in turn, rising to full stance. Grip firm to help her stay stable, boar-Tenoc imitates the sounds he remembers from the match, snuffling and rumbligng, hopping from one foot to the other, striding across the circle before he twists, weaves. Carefully, threateningly, yet just this side of tossing his delighted rider!

Tail lashing in mirth, he bends low as he strides forward, rising again with a leap to quick height; he lands in the grasses, raking the blades before 'charing' forward again, doing his best to toss his erstwhile rider-- holding firm to keep Lily in place, grinning from cheek to cheek. "Is mighty hunter! Sssska!"

"Sssaa! Sssaa!" Lily hisses in delight. She holds on, and is held, so she remains a rider on the Tenoc-boar and revels in every moment of it. She is bounced just enough to convince her she might fall, and is invigorated when she doesn't. "Lily rides the boar!"

Cryosanthia is likewise happy and relaxed, and outside of the Swiftclaw pen because her guard is down or redirected towards her foundling. She trusts the other sith to be careful, that's in her scent, but she's ready to leap for her little one if there's an accident. She cheers the two on, "You've almost got Tusk! That's it. Lily the mighty!"

Tenoc-the-Boar growls and huffs and makes (mostly) boar-like noises. But with a shudder, a gurgled hiss, he stumbles with the eager tug at his horns. "This one!" he moans, "Fallen it is! Woe!" He spins, squeezing firmly before he falls-- face-first, landing with a thump! "Sssk. Woe!" he moans, tail twitching as he lays beneath the Mighty Conquering Rider. "To be trussed and dressed and brought back to home, and cooked and eaten, and have tusks and bones made into pretty beads for younglings to wear!"

He turns his head, one eye gazing up to Lily with a wink. "Should Tusk give Mighty Lily beads so he can run away, and grow again? Will keep silly Tenoc-knife until he comes to get it!"

"Yes!" Lily peeps. Excited. She likes beads! She likes presents.

"Lily," Cryo cautions, oh she has the Clutch-Mother tone perfectly, "You didn't take any, did you? Remember what Ssassa said?"

"Beads!" Lily holds two handfulls up to Tenoc, which he did not notice coming off. The little kobold is unabashedly proud.

Cryo is circling in, bringing embarassed scents. Her head dips, "She's grabby, this one is training her not to still."

More sternly to her little charge, "That's good Lily, give them back. All of them. Tenoc friend."

Lily has more beads now, holding them out. She winks back at Tenoc, "Knife?"

Tenoc rumbles a throaty chuckle, grinning as he nods. "Will get back one day," he intones, tail looping. Satisfied scents-- he basks contentedly, raising his head as he cants it forward, accepting the return of the beads with grave aplomb. "And may help you get knife too." He pauses, glanciong back, voice more stern. "When big enough to handle with care. Sharp things are very sharp. Until then--"

He stretches up to his elbows, reaching up to remove the necklace from his neck (and horns-- mostly neck!), giving them back to young Lily. "Each bead has story to tell," he adds, voice softer. "Some from home, far across Greatest Waters. Some close, from animals, things, woods seens, learned. Each made, as symbol and memory." He inhales, breath slow and deep. "Is good to share. You like?"

Cryo is crouched, but still looms over the little youngling. Tenoc standing is an amazing wall of awesome. Lily stares upwards, absorbing the confidence of his size. Her hands are held open to receive things.

Cryosanthia is still, and oddly scentless and silent. Lily picks up on that, a thought working through her mind. "I like... I... don't know all the stories?"

"That's right Lily," the whitescale says, sounding proud. She got it. "If you take all his beads, he'll lose all his stories, and you'll have them but not know them. You should ask for one bead, for the story he shared. Tomorrow Ssassa will show you how to carve a bead. You can give it back, so Tenoc will still have his story. We share. The people are stronger together."

As the words leave her mouth, the white sith is caught in her own moment of reflection. She also looks up at Tenoc. "Thank you." Pleased. The scent is warm, strong, and Tenoc bends his head in reverence as he nods. Deftly, he draws back the string necklace, shuffling the beads before he finds that one-- ivory, once carved and nearly worn smooth again through many touches, much wear. "Each is a story," he says quietly, kneeling down to Lily, removing the bead from its place on the string among the others. "And you will hear them, he adds, offering the slender carved ivory to the youngling. He rumbles , a gentle pleasure. "And make your own. I will come to enjoy your stories, young Lily. Thank you for listening."

He grins briefly, eyes rising to Cryosanthia's in turn. Most welcome, Honored One," he answers, tailtip thumping. "It is good. We learn, and remember, and learn again. It is good to be needed." He glances at the far gathering, quiet mirth stealing across his features. "Sssk. Thank you."

Lily takes the carved ivory bead, holding it in both hands. It's huge for her, almost fills a palm. "Thank you friend Tenoc!" She squeaks, and then she's glomped onto the sith's ankle. "Thank you."

Her little tail wiggles, then she thumps it.

Cryo adds a much more solid thump to go with it, on the beat. She stands, picking up her pack, a glance towards the corral, then towards the cook-fires. "This one will finish the chore later. We should share food."

Lily is still stuck to his ankle as Cryo continues, in a much softer and quieter tones. "This one heard the pain when you spoke of no tribe, and knows one, or more beads are for that. This one would hear, and help how she can, should you wish to share. In time."

Her whispering has drawn Lily out, who stands and stares up, and holds up the gift-bead that Tenoc gave her. Cryo takes it and slips it into her haversack, "Ssassa will make you a string that will not break, so it is with you always." She takes Lily's wrists and gently pulls her up so she can ride on her shoulders, and looks towards the far gatherings.

Tenoc stretches gingerly, standing up once again as he nods. Pleased-- grateful in quiet scents, a sigh of memories long ago. And cose as heartbeats.

He bows to Speaker and child, reclaiming his spear from the earth, once more Guardian and Stoic Watch. Taking his place alongside, he escorts back to the gathering, the call of the fire like a gentle boon as its heat radiates.

Warm. Safe. Happy. It has been too long.

"Warriors, Hunters," he rumbles, drawing near. "This one is humbled to welcome the Speaker and her young to our fire. Raise voice and treasure, for the Blood sings its welcome tonight."

And so, an ending-- and a beginning anew, with rumbled appreciation.

Cryosanthia
For those who have known her, Cryo is older, much older. Gone is the light on her feet, heavy in the fray, whimsical lizard girl. There is no trace of the fading youngling features which betrayed her youth, her lithe build, her playful exagerated expressions. She looks like her mother might, bigger overall with larger horns, more scale plates, a stronger keratin crest and fearsome talons. Even her gory tattoos have vanished. The Cryo you knew is gone. In a seeming instant.

For those who meet her afresh, Cryosanthia is an elegant sith-makar woman in the first year of her second century. She radiates confidence, a deep power from within. Her scales are a brilliant white, highlighted by ones which are the palest of glacial blues. These pale scales trace out the scars she used to bear, her hide is restored. She bears two fantastic patterns of these, one on her chest, the other completely covering her back from crest to tailtip. When the light hits right, one sees the dragon within. Her bearing is intense, her motions minimal grace. Two horns sweep back from her brow. Her eyes are like glittering saphhire gems, and when she blinks her eyelids have the glacial blue to them as well. She wears a white layered robe, cut for her species, with shimmering blue piping, highlights and whorls. She carries no weapons, and still keeps a tiny bag close to her heart.

For those who know the story, Cryo has been changed, physically and fundamentally by her experiences. She is a lifetime older, but a human lifetime. Still young for a sith-makar, she has centuries to go. Cryosanthia grew into herself under the fae Queen and is the only one to return with memories. These are, sadly, disrupted and Cryo struggles to reconnect with herself, her body, and friends she hasn't seen in decades. Alien at times even to the sith-makar, her heritage is written on her scales, along with her spells.

Cryosanthia, Speaker of the Sith-Makar.

Tenoc
Emerald of hue, dark stripes abounding across his body, Tenoc stands seven feet in height-- Sith'Makar, as tribal as those distant, barbaric jungles. Standing proud upon the earth, ebon stripes slash his body like tiger's marks; from horn-crowned head to thick tail, the only place they avoid is the paler-hued chestplate scales that sit ruggedly over heart and chest. Twin horns veer above and back from his brow, smaller points ringing from them in a natural circlet base-- all in black, darkly gleaming. Bright eyes glitter in hot gold above ivory fangs, an eternal, sharp-toothed grin of razor teeth within serpentine maw.

From neck and down, the scaled form descends in fierce confidence, scales thickening as muscles swell in size and power, living mail to clad an armored skin. Emerald stained over with tiger's black stripes continue along his body, formed twin plates thick upon his chest, narrowing to smaller scales along the rest of his body. A paler green reaches along the front of his across his chest, down to taper away along each limb. Dark stripes end at the touch of paler scaled chest, leaving only the play and reach of corded muscle, the power rippling within. Dark claws reach from each hand, talons to grasp, to score, to rend in dark array.

In colder (and more civilized) climes, the Makar wears breeches of rough leather frilled with bits of blue stone; each is laced at the knee, with either leg beneath swaddled in wraps-- bandaged against the prods and thorns of unpleasant forestlands, barest defense against thorn to softer foot or joint. A sash at his waist is gleaming golden silk-- looped above belts of stolid leather, they serve their purpose-- whereas the sash itself seems purely, ephemerally decorative. Torso bared save for the heavy golden collar hanging from his neck, the thick golden semicircle clings jealously beneath his throat, bright aurum seated in a silent array of emerald and gold.