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piosenniel · 03-31-2003, 03:29 PM

Envinyatar’s post

‘Not a breath of air today,’ he reflected to himself, looking to the east. His hand came up to shade his eyes against the unrelieved light of the afternoon sun, and he peered toward the edges of the cultivated lands, watching the shimmering waves of heat pool along the shallow dips in the flat, almost featureless land that lay beyond, stretching out toward the horizon. ‘Deadman’s Water, Fool’s Hope’ is what his people called the mirages that played tricks on men’s minds.

His sturdy little horse shook her mane, drawing his attention back to matters at hand. Across the small field he saw one of the guards toying with a female slave. He taunted her with his bottle of water, drinking it in front of her, allowing a few of the precious drops to spill down to the ground. Another guard flicked his whip at her as she cried out.

Pah! He spit on the ground in contempt. Ignorant men! Better to give the slave some water and keep them working all the longer. He narrowed his eyes and watched as the two guards laughed, then a quick conference, and one of them was running back to where the tent of the Lord’s captain was. ‘The dog curry’s favor for himself,’ he thought, as he watched the guard admitted to the tent. ‘He means to tell the Captain there is an unnecessary slave who would be good for the Hunt.’

He looked from the woman kneeling at the fence, small, ill fed, to the burly men who guarded her. Half smiling, he watched the play of muscle ripple beneath their sleek skin. ‘Now those would be worthy prey for a true Hunter!’

Rhûnnaro sighed, tomorrow would be The Hunt – the fifth for him in as many years. He was prized as a tracker in this dusty land where the wind often obscured a creature's passing. There was little hope for him that this year would be any different. That there would be a true challenge for his efficient skills. His eyes roved back to the forms of the guards, calculating. He sighed again, and a sudden hot gust of breeze ruffled for a moment on his brow.

‘The eastern wind-horse springs up!’ He laughed in delight, remembering what his mother taught him. ‘The red horse of the east carries the wishes of the heart upward . . . to the waiting gods.’

[ March 31, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

03-31-2003, 03:29 PM	#8
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,786	Envinyatar’s post ‘Not a breath of air today,’ he reflected to himself, looking to the east. His hand came up to shade his eyes against the unrelieved light of the afternoon sun, and he peered toward the edges of the cultivated lands, watching the shimmering waves of heat pool along the shallow dips in the flat, almost featureless land that lay beyond, stretching out toward the horizon. ‘Deadman’s Water, Fool’s Hope’ is what his people called the mirages that played tricks on men’s minds. His sturdy little horse shook her mane, drawing his attention back to matters at hand. Across the small field he saw one of the guards toying with a female slave. He taunted her with his bottle of water, drinking it in front of her, allowing a few of the precious drops to spill down to the ground. Another guard flicked his whip at her as she cried out. Pah! He spit on the ground in contempt. Ignorant men! Better to give the slave some water and keep them working all the longer. He narrowed his eyes and watched as the two guards laughed, then a quick conference, and one of them was running back to where the tent of the Lord’s captain was. ‘The dog curry’s favor for himself,’ he thought, as he watched the guard admitted to the tent. ‘He means to tell the Captain there is an unnecessary slave who would be good for the Hunt.’ He looked from the woman kneeling at the fence, small, ill fed, to the burly men who guarded her. Half smiling, he watched the play of muscle ripple beneath their sleek skin. ‘Now those would be worthy prey for a true Hunter!’ Rhûnnaro sighed, tomorrow would be The Hunt – the fifth for him in as many years. He was prized as a tracker in this dusty land where the wind often obscured a creature's passing. There was little hope for him that this year would be any different. That there would be a true challenge for his efficient skills. His eyes roved back to the forms of the guards, calculating. He sighed again, and a sudden hot gust of breeze ruffled for a moment on his brow. ‘The eastern wind-horse springs up!’ He laughed in delight, remembering what his mother taught him. ‘The red horse of the east carries the wishes of the heart upward . . . to the waiting gods.’ [ March 31, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.