Tall Trees, Long Shadows [Faramir][July 3010]
Oct 27, 2017 22:20:53 GMT -5
Post by Wyn on Oct 27, 2017 22:20:53 GMT -5
Summer had reached its zenith, and the land was basking in long days and warm nights. Most of Mordor was already a volcanic wasteland, but even Nurn was beginning to turn sweltering. The early-summer downpours had passed for the moment, leaving the land hot and dry. Forage was becoming increasingly difficult as the roots and berries she normally scrounged were growing harder to come by, and wild game was more likely to spend the day squirreled away in a nice cool burrow somewhere. Wyn didn't often stray far from Mordor, but as of late, her empty belly had forced her to travel further than normal in order to find food.
She had been prowling the wooded borderlands for several days now, setting deadfall traps around the pine forest. They were simple affairs, logs or large stones propped up by rickety branches and baited with pine nuts. When a mouse, squirrel, or other small animal attempted to take the bait, they would disturb the sticks and release the deadweight overhead. That was the idea, anyway. In reality, the more common outcome was for the animal to escape unscathed or for something else to come along and rob her trap of its kill before she could return. She was tenacious, however, and over the course of the day had come away with two woodmice and a squirrel, which were now tied securely to her belt. Not much meat, but enough to keep her going for the moment. She was on her way to check another trap, one she had set by a hidden creek. The air was still and muggy, heavy with the earthy scents of loam and pine, and long shadows striped the ground. It was as placid as the wilderness could get, but even so, she kept eyes and ears open. She was still close enough to Mordor that uruk patrols were a possibility, and the woods held plenty of natural predators as well. The hunter could become the hunted all too easily, especially when that hunter wasn't exactly an apex predator to begin with.
The ground sloped underfoot now, and she followed the curve of the earth until she came to the stream. The deadfall trap had been triggered, and the lower half of a squirrel was sticking out from under the large rock she had used as a weight. She lifted the rock with the toe of her boot, retrieving the slightly-flattened corpse, and set about lashing it to her belt.
She almost missed the faint rustle of disturbed pine needles, but she wouldn't have managed to survive as long as she had without being somewhat vigilant. Her gaze shot up, posture immediately stiffening. Hazel eyes flicked about, searching for signs of movement, for the shape of a hulking body against the gloom of the woods. Was it orc, beast, or something else nearby? Did they mean her harm? Were they even aware of her presence? Moving slowly, she lowered a hand to brush against the knife on her hip, ready to retaliate if anything tried to rush her. She glanced to the side, mentally plotting out an escape route, and took a single step backwards, preparing to bolt.
She had been prowling the wooded borderlands for several days now, setting deadfall traps around the pine forest. They were simple affairs, logs or large stones propped up by rickety branches and baited with pine nuts. When a mouse, squirrel, or other small animal attempted to take the bait, they would disturb the sticks and release the deadweight overhead. That was the idea, anyway. In reality, the more common outcome was for the animal to escape unscathed or for something else to come along and rob her trap of its kill before she could return. She was tenacious, however, and over the course of the day had come away with two woodmice and a squirrel, which were now tied securely to her belt. Not much meat, but enough to keep her going for the moment. She was on her way to check another trap, one she had set by a hidden creek. The air was still and muggy, heavy with the earthy scents of loam and pine, and long shadows striped the ground. It was as placid as the wilderness could get, but even so, she kept eyes and ears open. She was still close enough to Mordor that uruk patrols were a possibility, and the woods held plenty of natural predators as well. The hunter could become the hunted all too easily, especially when that hunter wasn't exactly an apex predator to begin with.
The ground sloped underfoot now, and she followed the curve of the earth until she came to the stream. The deadfall trap had been triggered, and the lower half of a squirrel was sticking out from under the large rock she had used as a weight. She lifted the rock with the toe of her boot, retrieving the slightly-flattened corpse, and set about lashing it to her belt.
She almost missed the faint rustle of disturbed pine needles, but she wouldn't have managed to survive as long as she had without being somewhat vigilant. Her gaze shot up, posture immediately stiffening. Hazel eyes flicked about, searching for signs of movement, for the shape of a hulking body against the gloom of the woods. Was it orc, beast, or something else nearby? Did they mean her harm? Were they even aware of her presence? Moving slowly, she lowered a hand to brush against the knife on her hip, ready to retaliate if anything tried to rush her. She glanced to the side, mentally plotting out an escape route, and took a single step backwards, preparing to bolt.
