Dream Is Collapsing

Frodo Silvertongue · 12-13-2011, 05:32 PM

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wc: --- thought we could leave it here Smile It's up to you whether they meet again in three weeks or not, or even sooner/later. I'd like them to thread again, but up to you xD

The man looked over his narrow shoulder and watched the fey creep out from her hiding place, also shifting without a word, silent and seemingly feeling upset about the whole thing. He was grateful for her help witht the sharp arrow and he smiled softly, his eyes kind as he worked his way through the pig. Cutting along the general seams of the beast, he divided it the only way he knew how; into separate sections, mainly consisting of the general torso. Head was left, as an offering to the religion he’d been brought up knowing for the majority of his life. Legs were kept separate as well, however he’d be taking two of those with him. Gradually he narrowed down the meat, roughly but all together cleanly. He wiped his forehead and then grinned; his final mission to organize the hide of the creature. It was too small to serve as a good blanket, so instead he divided it in half, and in his half, collected up a lot of the meat, and one tusk of the boar. He wrapped it so he was carrying the heavy bundle like a sack, securing it around a shoulder he turned to Terra. Collect what yer can. Meat’s most important, eh wot, an’ I’d get that other tusk, too, fer good measure. You get me? he’d left a great deal for her, and indeed a great deal would be left even when her own share was collected. Gingerly, he handed her his penknife.

Frodo was already in possession of a dagger, a beautiful one with a silver handle. It had been his mothers. She’d been meek, and mild, but she’d loved him all the same, and he’d loved her too. The penknife was for smaller, niftier work, but he supposed he’d find another one somewhere. It was obvious with his regretful glance that he was giving Terra the knife. It wasn’t beautiful like his dagger, but it was practical, and strong. Keep that, will yer? Take the tusk, rest o’ the hide, an’ whatever else yer can carry. he repeated, looking at her sternly as if he was her father. He wasn’t trying to be commanding, but he was simply concerned about the femme who hadn’t been able to hunt before today. I’ll be leavin’, now. But I’ll be back in say… three weeks? Keep practicin’, you’ll get hang o’ it pronto, no problemo. the man ruffled her head with a meek smile, his grin only widening, his expression that of fondness for his new found friend. He gave her a hefty wave, further pulled the hide wrappings onto his shoulder, and walked away, his gear all on him, the strides he stepped hearty and fine.

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