Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
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And round about his home the glory That blushed and bloomed,
He gave his friend the space he needed, and leaned back against his own wall, half his attention on the surroundings. The sky above, the horizon, always checking for snow storms or wild beasts. It wouldn't do to relax, not out on the Tundra; he would stay alert so that Noah didn't have to.
"Yes," he replied simply, nodding slightly. The Olson didn't ask for details; Korbin was grateful for that, but divulged anyway. "The Grand Healer butted in when I was out flying. We came upon cannibals... some of the people exiled a few years back, if you recall. They saw us, and attacked." Nothing more to it, really; the details weren't important. He'd done what had to be done, and still felt like shit for doing it.
"After... I somehow ended up spilling my whole life story to Loren. Shock, probably," he said, with a wry twist of the mouth; he wasn't usually that talkative about himself. Telling tales and bantering was one thing, but getting up close and personal was more difficult. Not something he invited to. "Then I picked a fight with Weaver. It went as well as expected." Meaning, he'd gotten his arse kicked. "Still feel like punching people in the face most days... not sure that's dealing with it."
It was uncharacteristic for him. Not usually belliggerent or one to invite brawling; but he was seething inside, and it wasn't just because of the killing.
Is but a dim-remembered story Of the old time entombed.
Inwardly, he still felt queasy. It took a lot of the hunter's willpower to keep his stomach from churning and loosening the rest of what it had into the snow. He knew he needed to gain his composure. There was no telling if the woman would return to any others and come looking for them. He let his head lean back some into the cool stone. He took his hand and gathered a bit of snow, inspecting it quickly before putting it in his mouth. As it melted, he swished it around and then turned, spitting it over his shoulder and kicking more snow on top of it. His head pounded, so he returned it to rest against the cool stone, listening to Korbin.
He let out a small hum of understanding. Loren seemed to be pressing into the lives of the Halovians on a more day-to-day basis than the rest of the council. Noah tried to focus on that, but the image and the sound of what had transpired still played in his mind. "Well, lucky for you you already know my life story," He chuckled, using the humor to try to diffuse the hurricane of emotion swirling and raging within. Korbin, and all of his words, still did not help bring Noah back to standing on solid ground, but they helped. "So I guess we have to go find Weaver, start another fight." Obviously, Noah was no good at using humor to shake a tense situation.
He looked back over at Korbin, his stone face softening some. "Thanks." What he meant to say was, thanks for being here, thanks for not abandoning me, thanks for not thinking I'm weak, thanks for everything.
05-05-2020, 01:41 AM (This post was last modified: 05-06-2020, 06:24 AM by Korbin.)
KORBIN
And round about his home the glory That blushed and bloomed,
It wasn't very funny, no, but Korbin chuffed a quiet laugh all the same, out of sympathy more than anything else. He knew that feeling, of needing to say anything - everything - as long as it kept the mind off what just happened. A coping mechanism, in the same way as the throwing up.
"She'll be extatic," he assured the hunter, with that same wry grin. "Maybe with you, she'll get some real resistence." Korbin just couldn't manage to throw serious punches at his sister. He was a bit better when it came to other opponents, but the reluctance always got in the way. Except possibly when he was shit-face drunk or in deep despair as it would turn out.
At the gratitude, he just nodded, accepting it for what it was. There was no need for it, really. Noah and his brother was the closest thing to family Korbin and Weaver had aside from one another. Trusted friends; of course he stayed. He knew better than to think a bout of shaky knees and upset stomach ever made Noah weak.
"Do you feel up to continuing? There's enough daylight left, we can find another herd." One that perhaps didn't range quite so close to Whitebrim. The chance to get the game they'd come for aside, perhaps the man could use the chance to focus on something else. Put his arrows to the use they were meant for.
Purify the sullied sword, so to speak. Korbin was sorely tempted to do something similar himself, though he wasn't sure how yet.
Is but a dim-remembered story Of the old time entombed.
There was no use to responding anymore with humor. He was not good at it, and even as Korbin humored him with his own response, Noah knew. He focused on breathing in and out as he rested his head against the stone, looking up at the sky. He would definitely seek Weaver out later, but not to pick a fight with her. He would need something strong to drink this away, at least once. Noah was not one for obsessive behaviors, and he had only been drunk a handful of times in his entire life, but it seemed necessary to at least take away the shaking he felt in his legs and chest.
Korbin suggested the continue on, and Noah could not agree more. He lifted his head off the stone and straightened his body, nodding to the younger man. "We can't go home empty handed," Noah took a few steps forward and reached down to grab his bow once more, "even if we only grab a half-dozen ningos on the way back in tonight."
It didn't matter that Noah had killed a man, that he had a moment of breakdown, that a hurricane raged inside his body. There was a job to be done, bellies to fill. People relied on this , on him, on them. The hunter looked again at Korbin before heading out of their temporary shelter, eyes scanning the distance splayed before them now.
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Korbin nodded. He knew the reasoning, knew the consequences of returning without anything to show. It was not unusual to come back empty handed, but it was always better to have something in the bag when they came back.
Especially today.
Reaching into his clothes, Korbin pulled out a water skin, drank from it, and handed it over to the hunter. "Drink. I'll take a look from above, see what I can see."
Making sure Noah would accept the skin, Korbin shimmered and shifted, the raven already in flight by the time dark wings had replaced the young man's tall frame.
Flying out of the crevasse, he headed almost straight up and leveled out only when he had a good view of the surrounding landscape. There were no signs of the cannibals as far as his eyes could see, and there was a definite relief in him at that. Unfortunately, there were no signs of other life either, and his circles grew ever wider as he scanned the ground for tracks.
Noah was raised to be good. Today, that was challenging. He knew his actions were the right ones. Protecting his friend, his own life, was the right thing to do. But it still felt. It was still hard. There was still shaking in his knees, weakness in his gut, and trepidation in his mind.
But he was raised to be good. So, they would continue. People needed them to try and bring home meat despite anything else that happened out in the tundra. It was their effort, their tenacity, their grit as hunters that helped Halo stay alive. With all of his feelings--so many feelings he had never felt before--and the image of the man falling in to snow with two of his arrows sticking out of him burned into his retina, Noah would hunt.
He took the water from Korbin without hesitation and without resistance. He took a drink from it, more than he would have normally. He had not noticed his mouth felt dry until the water touched his lips. As the other attuned shifted and took to the sky, Noah capped the waterskin and placed it in the big pocket inside his hunting cloak. He could feel the moisture in the leather and fabric from his own sweat. He knew that wasn't good. He didn't know he had been sweating.
It didn't matter. He needed to keep going.
Noah crept out, eyes scanning the horizon as he did so. Every so often he would look up and try to locate Korbin, using the raven to dictate his course. The ground, from Noah's level, was as unforgiving as the raven's--there was not any sign of game. Noah swallowed hard, jaw tightening, and prayed to whatever god he could think of and whatever god would listen that the two hunters would be able to bring something home.
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
For the time being, Korbin just set the course for the opposite direction of Whitebrim. No need to get closer to that place if it wasn't necessary. The Tundra was vast and more than one herd of luxere roamed the expanse.
It had been almost a full hour of long, frustrating search when the raven finally spotted a break in the smooth, unblemished ground. Not movement, but tracks, and droppings left behind, not yet covered by the wind driven snow. With a pulse of excitement he returned back to Noah, to check up on the man and offer the new direction.
"West!" he sent through the bond when he was close enough. Korbin offered up the image of what he had seen. Fresh tracks, not many but enough to be interesting. "Good to go?"
He tried to keep his emotions to himself, but there was no hiding the gentle concern he felt for his friend. Much as this was needed... it might just be too soon. He only hoped that Noah would have sense to tell him if something was wrong.
Noah wouldn't stop. He simply couldn't. He needed to do something that felt right, that felt good, that felt like he could be himself again. He might not ever shake the sound, the sight, the feeling from his bones. He needed to do what he knew. He followed Korbin as he scouted above, and stopped when he lost sight of the raven. He did not want to venture too far from where they started unless he knew he was following the younger Halovian. After all, he was carrying Korbin's gear, and he did not want to be separated too far so that Korbin did not have to work hard to receive his weapons and tools once more.
It had taken over an hour, but Noah kept on Korbin's trail. As the raven swooped in and brought word of the luxere over the attuned bond, Noah merely nodded and gave him an affirmative signal with his bow lifted slightly into the air. He turned and headed west, his eyes scanning the horizon. He tried to stay low as he moved towards where Korbin had seen the signs of the herd. He breathed carefully, slowly, trying to keep his senses clear and keen. The pair still had plenty of daylight, but they would not be able to spend the rest of the day tracking the herd. There was only so much time they could use before needing to turn back.
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
They only needed one luxere to make this day worth the while. One was really all they could carry, and even that was pushing it. Once Korbin was sure Noah had seen him and received the message, he returned higher up to keep scouting, keeping keen eyes on both the tracks ahead and the surrounding areas. He was wary of other cannibals, of ursurs or wolves, but so far there were no other dangers to be seen.
Korbin worried about staying in his shift, however. It didn't seem good to leave Noah alone with his own thoughts at the moment. But while chatter could be good at times, he wondered if it would be of any use here. It hadn't really done much good for himself... just given him a place to hide from all the ugly truths.
The best they could do was just to keep going, he thought, and get back home as quickly as possible.
It was a while after that when he saw the first glimpse of movement on the horizon. A few dark spots, no more; a herd of maybe five animals, perhaps a few more, that trundled on through the snow. By that time, Korbin returned to the ground and his companion, to report what he'd seen. It would be for Noah to come up with a strategy here.
Small chatter and some talking surely would not be the cure for the raging inside of the reindeer's body. the turmoil would not even be cleansed through the act of hunting, though Noah craved it so. He only thought he needed to do it because it was what he knew. He thought he needed it to stabilize him in a time where he knew nothing. Nothing about murder was familiar to him. And though this killing was done with the heart of protection, it was not a shield to the guilt that weighed heavy on his shoulders, made heavier by the replaying of a women's wailing cry again and again. not knowing anything, not knowing how to handle this, and being so far outside of the Citadel that the comfort of his home or the bottom of a bottle could help block it all out, he pressed forward to bringing down game.
Korbin returned with the report of his tracking. He clicked his tongue some as he rolled over different strategies in his mind. No thought could fully form, each idea clouded by his tumultuous emotions. Finally, though, after starting into the distance for some time, he spoke the details of the plan he had, even if it was broken. "If you fly ahead of them, you can drive bomb down and shift before you come to the ground. This should spook them and send them my way, where I will be waiting with an arrow."
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
He sensed the turmoil in the other man's mind, more in the silence than because of anything else. Being sensitive to moods was what made him a good musician, and here, it was no great mystery as to the cause of the Olson's disquiet.
Still, the raven waited patiently for the instructions, and when they came he agreed without adding anything. It was a good plan, one they'd used before, and there was nothing to suggest that it wouldn't work.
The dark bird lowered itself down and made a loop around Noah, offering a pulse of steady reassurance - all the comfort and support he could muster within himself - and then veered off to pursue the herd. He didn't know if it would help; normally he didn't let much slip of his own emotions through the bond. But it was the best he could do right now, so it would have to do.
Picking up speed and altitude, Korbin set the matter of Noah's mental state aside for the moment. Committing himself to the hunt, the raven sped along until the herd could be seen again, and passed over it after a few minutes of flying. Bracing himself, the raven dove down and began to harrass the animals at the front of the little herd, slowly but steadily diving and cawing at them until they began to change course. With great determination, he didn't stop until they were turned in the direction they had come from. Once they were all headed in the right direction, Korbin began driving them onwards, making them pick up speed until they were charging ahead blindly.
"Coming your way!" he called down the bond - in case the thundering cloves and the annoyed bleats of the luxere wasn't clue enough - and readied himself. Korbin would keep at the animals, grimly driving them straight into the waiting arrows; prepared to act in a heartbeat in case they tried to break off or anything unexpected happened.
Noah could not put into words how much he appreciated Korbin and his support. If the raven had not been with him, and he had still done what he had done, he wasn't sure how he would be able to pull himself out of it. He so easily could have spiraled and let the shock and guilt overwhelm him. But Korbin helped bring his mind back, even if it was still foggy and clouded with the actions he had taken. Although Korbin might not really want it, for him to be still at Noah's side bringing them back to their original task, was a lifesaver.
It took all of Noah's mental energy to focus on the task ahead. Korbin set to his portion of the plan, and Noah would need to work his. Distractions would leave them with nothing, and this day would be all in vain. Noah set himself in a nestle of boulders, the perfect place to hide from the eyes of the luxure and to take his shot. After some time of sitting in the rocks and waiting for the younger attuned to send the herd fleeing his direction, Noah could feel the cold biting at him. In the panic that overtook his body and the ferocity with which he had run away from the murder scene, he had sweat. Now, as he was stationary, the chill started to set in. He breathed out, trying to push the feeling of cold away.
Notching his bow and preparing, Noah listened carefully. It took some time, but eventually the sound of luxere was unmistakable. Even though it was a small herd, they nearly made the earth rumble beneath their hooves. Noah lifted his body enough to see from his vantage point. He took aim, and breathed out. Drawing, he waited and watched as the luxere crested a hill above him. They moved quickly and frantically, and he knew they had not detected him. Letting another breath out, Noah let an arrow fly. It soared through the air with a faint hiss, but was locked in on its target and too quick to avoid. It sunk deep into the chest of a luxere doe, and she fell into the snow painlessly.
Noah had never had such a clear shot.
Before he could load another arrow and shoot it, the frantic herd had scattered. Terrified bleating filled the air as Noah stood up, looking out towards the doe he had brought down. He was melancholy, but thankfulness for the creature filled his breast.
And round about his home the glory That blushed and bloomed,
Korbin watched it unfold from his vantage point in the air. It really was a masterful shot; it seemed to him that Noah rose, drew and loosed the arrow all in a single fluid motion. It was so gracefully done that it approached art, and his respect for the hunter only deepened further. If this was how the man operated when his mind was frazzled and in turmoil, imagine the mastery of a mind at rest.
The rest of the luxere scampered off in a thunder of hooves and was gone before long. The raven let them go, and came down to land. Shifting into his own form and dropping down onto his feet in the snow, he cast a single look at the doe, and offered Noah a wolfish grin.
"Nice shot," he congratulated, in the laconic understatement of a lifetime.
Sauntering off to his pack, Korbin produced a heavy hunting knife that was a bit sturdier than the one he carried in the belt, and wasted no time in opening the game. The offal was removed, everything that could spoil the meat discarded, while all that could be used was put back into the abdominal cavity. Not much went to waste; it all had its purpose, and would make for good food and tools once they were back.
Without a comment, Korbin chose to shoulder the burden of the luxere. It left Noah to carry his packs, but they really weren't that heavy. His friend had done the hard job; now he could rest easy on the way home.
"We got what we came for," he grunted, and hefted the heavy body better into place over his shoulders. "Got any other errands to run while we're out here?" He said it with the light air of one who was out on a grocery run, eyes twinkling cheerfully at the older man.
Is but a dim-remembered story Of the old time entombed.
Korbin's congratulations echoes over the snow and pulls Noah from his own thoughts. He had been standing there, staring down at the luxere doe, with glassed-over eyes. Her lifelessness and the lifelessness of the exile felt so different, and it all made Noah's stomach twist. But as Korbin closed the distance between them, he shook it from his head. He felt exhausted, and when he normally would have celebrated with his friend on their kill, he stayed silent. Before Korbin was able to start work on preparing the deer-like creature for the way home, Noah removed his arrow from her body.
He leaned down to clean the blood off of it in the snow. Pulling it up to examine, though it was not fully clean, Noah turned it over in his hand. There was a large crack in the wood that ran halfway down the shaft, and the tip was snapped three quarters of the way down. He would have to remember that when he went on to process the deer after she had hung for a little while. He put the arrow back in his quiver, even though it was damaged. There were parts of it that would still be useful to him, even if only just for firewood. It was still necessary. Halovians used and reused and repurposed all they could.
Noah did not argue as Korbin loaded the deer up on his back. He was thankful for it, in truth. But he did not have any more words. Shaking his head some, Noah gave Korbin the faintest of smiles he could manage at his joke. Picking up the other man's pack, Noah looked over his shoulder at him and turned to head back towards Snowcloak, utterly exhausted.
