08-29-2010, 05:33 PM
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The snowy pelt with charcoal stains moved only slightly as a breeze found them, but the muscles of the girl barely moved except to breathe as she patiently waited for the Jager to speak. Why ever he seemed to think so long on her words she did not care, so long as any sort of answer followed his silent trance. When the question was posed her small voice was serious, there was one thing Nayru did nearly flawlessly at even her young age. “I can track anything.” Wolves even, and on many occasions the Dahlians were victim to the girl’s watchful eyes. From tree tops, from under brush and well hidden in the folds of night’s cloak she could trail them and only those ever on guard knew she was there. It had not always been so, but her natural aptitude for silence and the early experience in using her keen sense of smell had helped tremendously. And because she trailed others so well, she knew too that she could be trailed and was in the process of learning tricks to disguise her own scent. And if she chose, which at times she did not because there was still childish stubbornness in her and the want to feel as if she did not have to, she could be alert, she could be on guard, she could and would sense others before they sensed her. Yet it was not always she used this skill, and that was her downfall. She could, and her words to Larkspur held no embellishments. “I’m quick and silent, I can come up to any prey animal almost.” This she had done on occasion after occasion, but the end results were always the same. “I just don’t know what to do after that.” And perhaps that was an incurable problem. Perhaps either one knew how to kill or not, but Nayru prayed it was a teachable skill. |