Kel's eyes were already lighting up with hope at the initial admission that Rance was looking for someplace. What better place than with an old friend? One who desperately needed something - someone - familiar and friendly with so much strangeness in the shifting world around them. LongNight was coming soon, with all the mystery and mysticism around it, and as much as Kel valued his privacy it would be nice to have someone to stay with him through the week--
Before he could hurry to reassure his friend that he was never a 'crowd' the manta caught their attention. Kel drew in a sharp breath, hating to see the graceful little beast wounded by the golden predator, but before he could move Rance was already a blur of shifting skin and black feathers - where was his cloak?! - and doing something incredibly stupid and incredibly brave and nothing at all that the Grove-born hunter would have expected of his pragmatic friend.
The bow dropped, catching his attention anew and he started to reach for it, but he had no arrows at hand. He'd come to bathe, not hunt, and all he had was his knife.
And his aim.
He snatched a rock from the tidepool instead of the bow, throwing it past Rance to strike the leopard on the shoulder and distract it from finishing off the little manta. The cat snarled and retreated a step at the unexpected strike, and before it could pounce back on the stunned prey a raven had flown in its face, startling it further.
Before he could hurry to reassure his friend that he was never a 'crowd' the manta caught their attention. Kel drew in a sharp breath, hating to see the graceful little beast wounded by the golden predator, but before he could move Rance was already a blur of shifting skin and black feathers - where was his cloak?! - and doing something incredibly stupid and incredibly brave and nothing at all that the Grove-born hunter would have expected of his pragmatic friend.
The bow dropped, catching his attention anew and he started to reach for it, but he had no arrows at hand. He'd come to bathe, not hunt, and all he had was his knife.
And his aim.
He snatched a rock from the tidepool instead of the bow, throwing it past Rance to strike the leopard on the shoulder and distract it from finishing off the little manta. The cat snarled and retreated a step at the unexpected strike, and before it could pounce back on the stunned prey a raven had flown in its face, startling it further.
