Post by lorki on Aug 30, 2010 18:45:04 GMT -6
Early evening fell with a distinct breeze that warned of a chilly night following the mild day. The Forest thinned a few hundred feet away from the field, it turned from thick shrubbery and densely packed trees to sparse saplings, short and spaced brush, more grass. Finally the woods gave way entirely, leading into a long grass which had yellowed and died in the sun. The field lay perhaps and hour or two trek from the Abbey building, which was exactly the area from which Estlin had come.
Earlier in the day, just after dawn, he'd attempted to off a lone squirrel that had come from the Abbey. The area had proved very good, as far as hunting was concerned. The stupid little rodents seemed to think that those sand stone walls gave them some sort of immortality, the ability to skip around the forest with no protection, go berry picking and singing and acting a fool. As if no one would take any notice. Stupid. Still, the squirrel, unlike most of them, didn't wait around to ask questions or put up a fight long enough for Estlin to close the gap between them. It had taken to the trees and moved with unfortunate speed that Estlin could have matched... on solid ground.
He'd ended up putting his spear through an otter from afar, too hungry to be too interested in a real struggle. But, Estlin didn't eat otters if he could help it. Fanged beasts were no good. He'd settled for the otter's fish- one half cooked and the other raw and a bag half full of scones.
Now, the massive cat found himself sprawled out under the sky, his sand hued fur blending with the amber grass around him, his contrasting eyes staring up at the expansive blue that matched their color. Small puffs and wisps of clouds drifted by overhead. He watched, holding a scone and crumbling off bits of it while trying to convince himself to take another bite of the dry, bland, sorry excuse for food.
Earlier in the day, just after dawn, he'd attempted to off a lone squirrel that had come from the Abbey. The area had proved very good, as far as hunting was concerned. The stupid little rodents seemed to think that those sand stone walls gave them some sort of immortality, the ability to skip around the forest with no protection, go berry picking and singing and acting a fool. As if no one would take any notice. Stupid. Still, the squirrel, unlike most of them, didn't wait around to ask questions or put up a fight long enough for Estlin to close the gap between them. It had taken to the trees and moved with unfortunate speed that Estlin could have matched... on solid ground.
He'd ended up putting his spear through an otter from afar, too hungry to be too interested in a real struggle. But, Estlin didn't eat otters if he could help it. Fanged beasts were no good. He'd settled for the otter's fish- one half cooked and the other raw and a bag half full of scones.
Now, the massive cat found himself sprawled out under the sky, his sand hued fur blending with the amber grass around him, his contrasting eyes staring up at the expansive blue that matched their color. Small puffs and wisps of clouds drifted by overhead. He watched, holding a scone and crumbling off bits of it while trying to convince himself to take another bite of the dry, bland, sorry excuse for food.
