A cool breeze rustled Drest's straw-colored hair, but the rest of him was still as stone. It seemed almost as if the loose buckskin that covered him didn't dare move. He narrowed his eyes at the unsuspecting doe that browsed in a clearing ahead. Her hide would sell, he thought, for a good sum of pons, which he could then use for supplies that didn't come easy through a life spent mostly in the woods. He'd injured the poor creature about a mile south of here, and she walked with a limp that she clearly made an effort to mask. A pang of sympathy washed over Drest, for it reminded him of something he might do, had he been in a similar situation. Either way, she seemed to have think that she had lost him. Good. She wouldn't see the final blow coming...
And the deer didn't, as he predicted. A poisoned dart he'd bought for maybe five pons back in town, a fairly good deal, thudded neatly into the thick furry neck and caused the animal to bellow in pain and alarm. When its legs shuddered and buckled, Drest strode over and finished the kill.
The rest of the afternoon was spent butchering the doe and scraping the hide. It was grueling work, but it was better than paying for dinner, and it would last longer too. Plus, back at Belvast, with this skin so well-preserved as it was (he couldn't help his chest swelling with pride at the finished product) he was confident that he could fetch a good price for it. After rinsing his bloody hands in a small pond and scraping the dry scabby material from underneath his fingernails, Drest began the long walk toward town. Funny types came out to shop in the evening. He could probably even cop this hide and perhaps some meat for more than it was really worth.
When he arrived at the city, though, an uneasy feeling settled over him. He didn't know where it came from, but he had a sudden urge to drop everything and run. He resisted: he really needed some money, and somewhere to crash before his wanderings for the next few days. So, with a mysterious dread weighing on his heart, the man wandered down the street, hung a few turns and settled in his usual selling place. It took a few tries to sell the pelt, but eventually a woman and an oddly snake-like man both evidently had their eyes on it. Starting to sweat, Drest thrust the fur into the woman's arms before her price could be beaten and hurriedly snatched the money offered. "Thank you," he muttered, then out of obligation, said the same thing to the man, repeating one more time: "Thank you for your business. I have to go now."
"So soon?" came the soft voice of the pale snake-man. It was the auditory equivalent of smoke swirling pungently from a freshly put-out candle. "You just got here; surely you have more to vend."
"No, sorry," said Drest, his spine straightening. It was an unconscious way of making himself look bigger and more powerful, a way of intimidating a possible opponent into backing down. It didn't make him feel any better about this mysterious person. He turned away so as to head North but a sudden sharp pain, like an invisible hook had sank into his chest and pulled him backwards, back towards this... magician. With a cry, Drest turned into the only form he knew how to take: a leopard. The change broke him free and in moments he, a cat bogged down with buckskins and pouches was bounding frantically for the forest, the night deepening.
(Edit: I am so sorry for the mistakes in here.)
And the deer didn't, as he predicted. A poisoned dart he'd bought for maybe five pons back in town, a fairly good deal, thudded neatly into the thick furry neck and caused the animal to bellow in pain and alarm. When its legs shuddered and buckled, Drest strode over and finished the kill.
The rest of the afternoon was spent butchering the doe and scraping the hide. It was grueling work, but it was better than paying for dinner, and it would last longer too. Plus, back at Belvast, with this skin so well-preserved as it was (he couldn't help his chest swelling with pride at the finished product) he was confident that he could fetch a good price for it. After rinsing his bloody hands in a small pond and scraping the dry scabby material from underneath his fingernails, Drest began the long walk toward town. Funny types came out to shop in the evening. He could probably even cop this hide and perhaps some meat for more than it was really worth.
When he arrived at the city, though, an uneasy feeling settled over him. He didn't know where it came from, but he had a sudden urge to drop everything and run. He resisted: he really needed some money, and somewhere to crash before his wanderings for the next few days. So, with a mysterious dread weighing on his heart, the man wandered down the street, hung a few turns and settled in his usual selling place. It took a few tries to sell the pelt, but eventually a woman and an oddly snake-like man both evidently had their eyes on it. Starting to sweat, Drest thrust the fur into the woman's arms before her price could be beaten and hurriedly snatched the money offered. "Thank you," he muttered, then out of obligation, said the same thing to the man, repeating one more time: "Thank you for your business. I have to go now."
"So soon?" came the soft voice of the pale snake-man. It was the auditory equivalent of smoke swirling pungently from a freshly put-out candle. "You just got here; surely you have more to vend."
"No, sorry," said Drest, his spine straightening. It was an unconscious way of making himself look bigger and more powerful, a way of intimidating a possible opponent into backing down. It didn't make him feel any better about this mysterious person. He turned away so as to head North but a sudden sharp pain, like an invisible hook had sank into his chest and pulled him backwards, back towards this... magician. With a cry, Drest turned into the only form he knew how to take: a leopard. The change broke him free and in moments he, a cat bogged down with buckskins and pouches was bounding frantically for the forest, the night deepening.
(Edit: I am so sorry for the mistakes in here.)
