Hunters in the White

[Tana Little-Bear]

She crouched in the snow, feeling each flake that hit her cheek. It seemed to melt in an instant, yet in the act of doing so, it froze and created a sheen that glistened. It was frustrating. She didn't have fur like Kazahan, and so the visible indicators of climate exposure manifested a bit more obviously upon her. But still, Tana Little-Bear was not about to shy away from the task that had been given to her. She remained motionless, watching the elk as it grazed a distance away. It was oblivious, lost in its' own world of grass and cold. It was a world that she was a part of, and the girl remained low to the ground. She had learned so much in the short time that she'd been with the Khajiit, but she also knew that there was more. More to know, more to gather. More to take as her own.

And so she stayed motionless, her small bow half-drawn.

It wasn't time yet.

The arrow was notched, waiting to be drawn back fully.

But it wasn't time yet.

It would be time when Kazahan whispered in her ear.

[Kazahan]

He watched the Girl, as he called her, while she knelt, her bow drawn. A small part of his attention remained on the elk. It was a big, muscled brute; Kazahan knew it would feed them well.

"Keep the tension in your shoulder, not your arm, Girl," he murmured. She was getting frustrated, he could tell. But while brawlers would decry those who emphasized form in their combat stances and movements, Kazahan knew that form could save a life. If the Girl was to keep up, she would need to get much better. "Remember, the arrow will fall as soon as you loose it. Keep in mind the arc as it falls, and you will have no trouble aiming."

"Loose," he murmured, his attention on the elk now.

[Tana Little-Bear]

She'd shifted ever so slightly, trying to do as he said. What he meant by moving tension into her shoulder seemed strange to her, but the girl wasn't about to voice her thoughts now.

He ordered loose, and Tana moved in a small burst. The bow was drawn the rest of the way, and she sighted down the arrow for a split second. She aimed slightly higher to account for the arc Kazahan spoke of. And then she let go.

The fletching kissed her cheek as it shot up into the air.

It sang as it passed the distance between them and the elk.

... and buried its' metal-tipped head in the powdered snow just beside the animal's front hoof. Its' head came up immediately, hot breath snorting out through its' nostrils as a back leg stamped against the earth. And then it bolted, dashing off through the trees and disappearing almost immediately.

"Wha??!"

The girl burst up from her cover to stand in angry disappointment. She turned stormy blue eyes to Kazahan.

"That's not fair! I thought I did everything I was supposed to do!"

[Kazahan]

Kazahan stood, his face locked in an inscrutable expression. Only his eyes gleamed when he looked at the Girl intently, until she quieted.

"It was not fair because you made it so," the Khajiit said lowly. "You apparently did not. Cause and effect. Think on it, and tell me when you have learned what you did wrong. Now we will have to stalk another. That one has escaped us."

Kazahan turned and absently wiped the snow from his shirt. A thick fur cloak hung from his shoulders, and he glanced down at the Girl.

"Come."

He moved quickly, his steps covering ground quite faster than Tana could manage, but she kept up doggedly until Kazahan stopped and crouched. There, hanging lowly from a tree was a small bowl a deer was nosing curiously and licking.

He pulled his bow from his back and smoothly nocked an arrow. He pulled on the bow, keeping his elbow tucked in and the muscles in his shoulder taut. Slowly, he breathed out until his lungs were empty, and then he aimed, taking into account the wind and its direction and the distance to the deer. He loosed, and the arrow found a home through the deer's throat. It jumped and staggered, before running off.

Kazahan looked down at the girl for a moment before stalking off and looking for the blood trail.

[Tana Little-Bear]

She'd watched in a bit of fascination as Kazahan worked. His movements were made as if they were a part of the land itself. A part of the wind that rustled the trees, like the pebbles that dotted the ground beneath the snow. She watched as he loosed his bow, as his arrow found home.

Her mouth was a thin-lipped straight line as she studied his every movement and motion.

And as he started off after the deer, the girl gripped her own bow just a little bit tighter in a white-knuckled grip as she trotted off after him.

"Where did you learn how to be so... good?"

[Kazahan]

Kazahan snorted, and crouched low, looking upon a bright red stain upon the dust of the snow.

"Do not be foolish," he growled, stepping quickly over the blood staining the snow. The deer, though mortally wounded, had stumbled quite a way down the mountain, but soon they came upon the deer, lying gasping on its side in a small clearing, blood pooling and mixing with the snow into an icy red slush. He stalked over and pulled out a knife, but stopped as the bushes to the side shuddered and ejected a naked blond man with a scraggly beard. He locked eyes with the man, who grinned.

"Dinner," the man coughed, and began to change, his body bulging and growing fur and claws and a drooling muzzle of teeth.

[Tana Little-Bear]

Tana let out a gasp as the man hunched over in a twisted display of changing flesh. She stood rooted, watching in terrified fascination; the man had looked like a Nord! Like her! But... whatever her initial reaction was to seeing a naked man step from the foliage was overtaken by the shock of his one-word cough and his change. One hand went to her mouth as she kept staring, blue eyes wide. It was like watching two carts run into each other... she couldn't look away. Finally though, her tongue found purchase as the danger in this new situation took firm hold of her senses.

"A werewolf!"

Her bow was drawn with a shaky hand despite her determination, and the girl sidestepped.

She wouldn't run. Her heart thudded in her chest, but she wasn't about to turn tail.

I'm not afraid, I'm not afraid, I'm not afraid...

A long breath out, and Tana let the arrow fly...

[Kazahan]

...straight into the Werewolf's arm. She was getting better, but the attack had only made her the changeling's first target.

The Werewolf's eyes trained on her and it roared, and took a step towards her, but the ring of a sword being drawn echoed in the quiet background.

Kazahan took a step forward, and the Werewolf glanced between him and the Girl. Kazahan raised his sword and took three quick steps forward, raising his sword; the wolf-man charged him, its clawed hands reaching out to shred the Khajiit. Kazahan dove for the ground to his left, rolling up and swinging his sword at the beast's back, and only narrowly ducked underneath a fist swinging back at him, and backstepped in time to miss another attack. The beast growled, and crouched low. Kazahan slowly took his sword in both hands and set his stance, slowly sidestepping to keep himself from being caught off guard.

The beast's muscles tensed.

[Tana Little-Bear]

Before she'd even realized her body was moving, Tana had notched another arrow. Her quick sideways steps taking her around the werewolf, arrow drawn and aimed at the beast.

If she was even half the hunter that Kazahan was, she'd be able to do more than simply hit their attacker's arm. She'd be able to kill him. She would be able to make up for her dismal display of marksmanship just a few minutes before.

Grinding her teeth, the little Nord let her shoulder tense, feeling the muscles bunch as she pulled back just a little bit more before loosing her arrow.

Yet, in that split second, the werewolf let out a sharp growl, his head turning like a whip to glare murderously at her.

She let out a gasp, staggering back in surprise as she suddenly found herself the next target, and in terror-filled desperation, let go of the arrow.

[Kazahan]

Kazahan roared at the wolf-man, and charged the creature, but he faltered suddenly; this second of hesitation was taken advantage of, and Kazahan's vision went black for a few moments when the Werewolf's fist caught him in the stomach.

He flew backwards and hit the snow some feet away, a cheery cloud of white erupting around him. He could feel his ribs were broken, and there was a pressure whenever he took a breath, but it didn't seem like his lungs had been punctured. He had to concentrate, but he could tell with grim satisfaction that even such blows as those were not enough to part him from his sword.

He spasmed, a hand going to his side where it found an arrow lodged shallow, but still firmly; barbed arrowheads were deadly things, he remembered. He growled and made to stand, but only made it to his knees when the wolf charged him again with an open maw. He managed to stagger out of the way of its teeth, but its shoulder caught him, and he was carried along for a brief moment before the monster grabbed him and pinned him to the snowy ground. It growled a laugh and bent low to savour the smell of blood and pain from the Khajiit.

His right hand clenched once more; thankfully it had not failed him and yet grasped the hilt of his blade. His left went over the knife in his belt, and he prepared to make one last attempt to forestall his death.

[Tana Little-Bear]

Tana gasped as her arrow found the wrong target, and she let a little whimper escape her lips. Her effectiveness with her bow was suddenly a worrying prospect, and she watched as Kazahan was driven into the snow-packed ground. Her heart beat so fast that she thought it would beat right out of her chest, and the girl blinked furiously as instinct made her notch another arrow to her bow. With the werewolf's hunched back to her, she would at least have as good a shot as ever. And with her Khajiit partner beneath the monster, there was less a chance of hitting him again.

Well, she hoped...

Time was short though, and Tana had no other options as the werewolf bent down scent his quarry.

She exhaled, the bow coming up, and the arrow pulled back. Elbow tucked in, her shoulder stayed taught for a fraction of a second. In the next, the arrow was loose. It shot through the air before burying itself deep into the flesh between their attacker's shoulder blades.

[Kazahan]

The Wolf screamed, standing straight and reaching its arms back to grab the arrow shaft in vain, staggering as its weight shifted.

Kazahan for his part, took a moment to gather himself and painfully brought himself up to his feet, and sparked a restoration spell in his left hand, which immediately grabbed the beast's attention with a grisly focus. Kazahan spat blood.

Another of Tana's arrows shot in, and the wolf turned, his eyes gleaming in hateful hunger. Kazahan's hand glowed as he activated the spell, which once more garnered him all its attention. It charged, and Kazahan fell to a knee, stabbing with his sword as he did so; the beast's momentum tore the sword from his hand. Kazahan was untouched from this last exchange, and he looked over to see the beast still, face down on the ground, his sword point visibly sticking out of the wolf man's head, and another arrow stuck into its leg.

Slowly, the beast seemed to melt back into the form of a man, and Kazahan grunted, sitting on his knees limply, trying to respark his healing spell once more in his left hand, and his right gripped the haft of Tana's arrow stuck in his side, and he pulled, pulling out the weapon in a small spurt and then a free trickle of dark blood. The pressure on his lungs was becoming painfully acute.

[Tana Little-Bear]

Her breath caught in her throat then, and her eyes never strayed from the beast that had begun to shift and change back into a man. Entranced, Tana bit her bottom lip as she took a cautious step foreward. What if the monster came back to life? She'd heard stories about necromancers that could raise the dead and turn them into slaves. Of course, that only caused a fresh wave of worry to fall over her, and the Nord girl quickly looked at the woods surrounding them. She hoped there weren't any necromancers around...

Kazahan's grunt pulled her back to the present. It also reminded her of her bad aim, and she dropped her bow as she hurried to where he sat on his knees.

She knelt before him as he deposited her arrow in the snow.

"Oh Talos," came her quiet curse.

Her hands went out, but she drew them back an instant later, unsure if there really was anything that she could do.

"I'm... " her voice was nothing but a whisper as she looked up to meet his eyes. "... I'm sorry... "

[Kazahan]

Kazahan met her gaze for a moment before swiftly backhanding her across the face, and then letting his arm drop limply.

"You nearly killed this one with one arrow," the Khajiit grunted. His restoration spell fizzled out in his hand; he had never been magically adept. Despite how useful magic could be, he did not plan on learning much more than the few weak spells he already knew. "Thankfully, you stopped fooling around and did what Khajiit told you to do in the first place, saving my life in the process."

He lifted an arm and settled it on her shoulder.

"Tell me you have brought some potions," he gasped and spat more blood into the snow.

[Tana Little-Bear]

The blow stung, but it was more surprising than anything else, and the shock of it hit her harder than had the back of his hand.

"I have a few," she scrambled back, her cheek burning.

"I had enough Septims left over the last time you sent me into Falkreath."

Digging in her shoulder pouch, she pulled out a smallish red ceramic bottle, a crudely carved cork keeping it closed. She fumbled slightly, trying to hurriedly pull out the cork, and it gave a pop as it came free. She held the potion out to him.

"Here."

[Kazahan]

With a weak grip, Kazahan tilted his head back and drank the potion; almost immediately he began to look healthier, though it was restrained to his arrow wound closing and a rib audibly snapping into place within him. He gasped painfully, and rested his hand on his side.

"Another," he grunted, and took the bottle and drank, tossing it away when empty. He hissed as another two ribs snapped into place, and looked down in surprise at his arm, where a growing warmth indicated a small fracture he had not been aware of. Health potions kept one alive, but they did not restore energy; only stamina potions and rest could fix that problem, and he blinked away fatigue as his body's natural healing processes were augmented and sped up. He breathed deeply, and stood, picking up his knife, and staggered over to the werewolf. Turning the body over with his foot, he gestured to the dead man.

"Look," he ordered. "Look at him. He is very ugly, no?"

He gripped the sword still sticking through the man's head and pulled it out with a wet, sticky sucking sound accompanying the action.

"This world is ugly, girl," he grunted, taking a rag from his own pouch and wiping his blade clean. He turned away from the corpse and walked tiredly to the deer. "Now, you do know how to skin and cut the meat from animals, yes? Come here."

[Tana Little-Bear]

Tana nodded while regaining her feet beneath her. The shoulder pack was cinched closed, and she sidled up to Kazahan. Staring at the deer, the girl moved on instinct, pulling her small dagger from its' sheath on her belt.

The animal's eyes were still open, but glassed over in death, and Tana screwed her eyes closed as she slowly knelt at the beast's head. A hand went out, palm coming to rest between those lifeless eyes.

"My Da told me once that the spirit was the most sacred thing in all of Skyrim. He said that nothing could exist without it, and that if we had to dim the spirit of an animal to sustain ourselves, then we should at least show respect."

A pause, and Tana gently leaned down to deposit a tender kiss between the deer's antlers.

"Go to Kyne," she whispered.

[Kazahan]

"Your father was needlessly sentimental," the Khajiit grunted as he pulled out his own knife, with a long blade and a serrated along one edge. "Death is death. Do not respect it. It simply is a part of this ugly world, girl."

He looked up at her as he took the serrated edge of the knife to the deer's antler.

"Everything feeds upon everything else. This is simply the way of things. If you wish to add sentiment," here he stopped sawing at the antlers and looked at Tana, "you will only add pain. Seeing something in nothing will not do you any good."