[M] - My Little Friend

Jaden Ohanzee · 05-06-2012, 11:58 PM

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WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

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Date: May 6th, 2012

Setting: Wentworth Valley

Time: Late Afternoon

Character Form: Optime

Mood: Neutral

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Anything goes.

400+

The air was cool and damp. Around him rain dusted the land, each drop so fine they made a dreary mist. All was quiet. The forest was taking cover with none of the animals stirring except a lone obsidian wolf. He sat atop a slick rock in the grass of Wentworth Valley. A blade moved gently in his damp hands and ran over what had once been only a limb of wood and now resembled a finely crafted weapon. Small chips of wood fell and covered his lap as he turned the weapon over in his hands, eyeing each curve and every angle. It was as smooth as a sea-washed stone. Jaden was a meticulous craftsman when it came down to the things he made. He had done this many times and the wood truly didn’t need to be checked anymore. The true reason he had the unconditioned wood out in the rain was the natural moisture. It would allow the bow to flex more easily while he strung it. For the past few weeks he had been carving it and shaping the wood. Now he would actually get to see its power even if it was still far from completely finished.

Satisfied enough to call it finished Jaden flipped the small crafting knife in on itself with a scratch of its rusty joints. He then stood and strung the bow. This was simpler then carving it because he had done this many, many times to his former weapon. The string of braded yucca fit slightly into small notches cut into the weapon’s far tips. In only a few minutes, he was stand proudly with a strung and nearly finished bow.

Jaden wasn’t in his usual garb. No dark coat hung from him and the metal gauntlets were safe in the Exultare den a short distance away. All that protected his injured body from the weather were a few straps. The one that held the two daggers at his hips and the other that pulled his quiver snuggly to his back. The Alaskan shook the water from his fur and wiped a little from his brow before taking an arrow in hand. With a sigh of pleasant familiarity, he drew the shaft over his string and pulled. The sound of the stretching line and flexing wood made him grin deviously. The three foot long bow bunched in his hands like a snake ready to strike. Its call a moment later was warming when the arrow split through the moist air and imbedded into a rotting tree ten meters away. He drew and fired another. Then one more arrow smacked the dead wood with a hollow sound. The pleasure it gave him to have a bow once again was nearly palpable even when the last arrow dogged left of its slightly fog-hidden target.

Jaden does. Jaden speaks. Jaden thinks.

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