Arash: Roleplay thread

Nann paused, her breath clouding the air in front of her. Higher in the mountains surrounding the snowy expanse that she called home, the snows could be deep enough to bury a man standing; she considerered herself lucky that it only reached her knees, though that was a small comfort. If there were a shift in the snow at the top, she could be buried by an avalanche without warning. She glanced up at the sky, the moon and stars were both gone, leaving a slowly lightening sky as dawn approached. Her prey had been careful, but had still left signs. Disturbed snow and broken twigs painted a path for her, until something to the side of the path caught her eye. Standing out against the white, was a splash of red.

Nann approached the red patch, recognising it to be blood. A few feet away and half buried she found the source; a corpse, the stomach torn open and half-eaten, though it looked as if he'd frozen to death before he'd been wounded. She knew his face, he had been with the bandits Nann was hunting. Snarling at the prospect of something daring to compete with her, she pressed on.

Jan sat around the warm fire, his eyes half closed contentedly. He was listening to the chatter or the tribe around him as they ate their breakfast. His own bowl sat still full, as it would for a while yet. He usually ate once most of the tribe had left to begin their chores and duties. A tap on his shoulder, a flutter in the air and the crinkling of rushes told him that the tribe Chief, Rhyun, had arrived and taken his seat.

Jan smiled and opened his eyes, turning and greeting the Chief with a merry smile. He entertained a good relationship with the man, as he had with the man's father. Whilst the rest of the tribe was ignorant of what Jan was, the Chief wasn't and it played an intrinsical part in their relationship.

Nann crouched, getting as low as she could while still being able to scan around herself. It was starting to snow again, and Nann knew she had to make a choice. She could continue hunting, but risk getting trapped in a blizzard, or she could go further down and make camp, but she'd probably lose her prey. The bandits definitely weren't worth dying for. She sighed and turned, heading back down the slope, defeated by the weather.

He talked with the Chief as the man ate, the tent around them slowly emptying as people left to begin their daily jobs. Jan could feel the heat of the morning flap into the tent every time someone left. It must have been little past five and already it seemed like it was due to be a hot one. He had lived with the tribe for nearly forty years now, and still the desert heat beat him down on occasion.

Eventually, the tent was occupied by himself, the Chief and his family and some of the younger members of the tribe who had the day off. So Jan finally picked his bowl up, raised the chunk of meat inside of it up into the air and began tearing into it like a wolf who has just brought down a doe.

As the snowfall began to worsen, Nann knew she had made the right decision. Her wounded pride was a small price to pay for survival. She had spotted a cave, not too far back from where she was that would make a decent enough shelter; something Nann was glad she'd noted as visibility quickly dropped in a flurry of white. Shouldering her bow and pulling her cloak tightly around herself, Nann forced herself onwards, relying only on her memory.

He noticed some sideways looks at him from the people left in the tent as he ate, but he no longer cared. It always took a great deal of will to hold his hunger back at meal times, and the people who's opinions truly mattered already knew his nature. So what if some of the younger members gossiped. It would be dismissed as rumour.

And then Jan felt odd. An odd feeling that he hadn't had in many years. The meat fell from his hands and his teeth, his head following closely behind it. He began to convulse, softly at first but it grew ever more violent. He was shown a face. A face in a town. A man, in the prime of life but covered in welts.

Thankfully, it didn't take long for Nann to reach the cave and she was safely inside before the snow became a blizzard proper. She'd already stashed firemaking supplies, and she had some food left, so she could wait the storm out, huddled beneath her thick cloak. If all else failed, she could change, but even that was risky considering the amount of snow.

Jan woke. The chief was stood over him, looking worried. He asked the man for a drink; or rather, gestured for one. A cup of water was placed in the grasping hand and Jan promptly threw it over himself. It did what he needed it to. The last of the vision faded from his sight and he could feel the warmth of the fire blazing again. The face however, remained etched into his memory.