The evening breeze from the sea ruffled Kellan’s tunic and hair as he stood motionless at the edge of the trees. The ramphire herd had finally returned to the meadow, though ash remained in clumps even on the side of the mountain away from the lava flows. The Leafchange rains had washed much of it away, however, and revealed the vibrant green beneath, and life was returning to the jungle above the ocean that sparkled below in the setting sun.
Slowly, gently, moving millimeter by millimeter as the wind stirred leaves and swirled ash, the hunter raised his bow. The arrow was already nocked to the string as the herd with its attendant birds and other creatures foraged through the grass and flowers that had survived. A young ram was drifting closer to Kel as he began to pull back the string, finding the draw far harder than it had been on his world – as so many things were. Still he persevered, taking his time until the trembling in his back and bicep warned him that he was pushing himself too far. He pulled swiftly back on the last few inches, just as the ram looked up towards the sudden motion.
Soft, dark eyes found Kellan as the arrow released, the twang of the bow spooking the herd into motion. The ram leapt back, rising so that the arrow took it in the chest instead of between the eyes, but whether through luck or design the steel head slipped betwixt ribs to pierce the beast’s heart and its pale yellow body fell to the ground, breath heaving in lungs that couldn’t seem to pull in enough air to fuel its flight. As the other ramphires fled in a mass of pastel plumage, Kel cautiously emerged from the trees to kneel beside the beast he’d felled, pressing his hand between its horns as its dewy eyes turned glassy and cold. The animal shuddered a final time and then its chest stilled, and after a few moments of quiet contemplation Kel reached for his arrow to work it free and wipe it off before unlimbering his hunting knife to begin cleaning the carcass for transport back to town.
Slowly, gently, moving millimeter by millimeter as the wind stirred leaves and swirled ash, the hunter raised his bow. The arrow was already nocked to the string as the herd with its attendant birds and other creatures foraged through the grass and flowers that had survived. A young ram was drifting closer to Kel as he began to pull back the string, finding the draw far harder than it had been on his world – as so many things were. Still he persevered, taking his time until the trembling in his back and bicep warned him that he was pushing himself too far. He pulled swiftly back on the last few inches, just as the ram looked up towards the sudden motion.
Soft, dark eyes found Kellan as the arrow released, the twang of the bow spooking the herd into motion. The ram leapt back, rising so that the arrow took it in the chest instead of between the eyes, but whether through luck or design the steel head slipped betwixt ribs to pierce the beast’s heart and its pale yellow body fell to the ground, breath heaving in lungs that couldn’t seem to pull in enough air to fuel its flight. As the other ramphires fled in a mass of pastel plumage, Kel cautiously emerged from the trees to kneel beside the beast he’d felled, pressing his hand between its horns as its dewy eyes turned glassy and cold. The animal shuddered a final time and then its chest stilled, and after a few moments of quiet contemplation Kel reached for his arrow to work it free and wipe it off before unlimbering his hunting knife to begin cleaning the carcass for transport back to town.
