KORBIN
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
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.
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.
Of the old time entombed.
