Learn From Your Mistakes

Yi TaeKyung · 05-22-2011, 10:02 PM

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Thanks for your patience! Sorry about the quality— I’ve started all my threads so far, and I’m running out of creativity! >u< Back dated May 20 okay?
WC: 512

She had hunted several large game in her secui shape—a small bear and several deer. The black-furred martial artist’s elevated metabolism required many more meals, and she had hunted frequently in these surprisingly abundant lands. With the pelts of those she had hunted, a tree had been wrapped to create a padded surface. There were four pelts—one bear and three deer—that coated a tree with a thickness that she could wrap her arms around. Tendons of her prey had been used as rope to bind the pelts to the trunk of the tree. She had worked to hunt and skin, and to bind as well, to create a padded surface—a punching bag. The martial artist was satisfied. Able to kick and punch the trunk without serious injury to her limbs, the black fae was able to practice the basic techniques without a partner. It was one thing to be away from the homeland, but it was another to be away from those who shared one’s lifestyle. At times, life here was difficult for the taekwondo artist. But it was not impossible.

Satisfied with her handiwork, the black fae began practicing immediately. She threw punches and kicks, the padding enough to protect her limbs from harm, but enough to allow her bones to strengthen as well. The black fae started off slow, but the reassurance she felt by remembering the feel of kicking inflated her still-young spirit. Her rhythm quickened as she threw kicking combinations. A spirited and yet mirthless smile moved upon her maw. Each strike was punctuated by an audible thud and a blood curdling cry deep from the gut. The cry was filled with her passion for taekwondo. Perhaps one day, when she had made a more permanent home, she would use pelts to make a punching and kicking bag as well. For now, this simple, motionless tree would suffice.

It was when performing a wheel-kick that she had made a slight mis-calculation in distance that a sharp hiss was emitted from the hungering jaws. With control and balance, she stopped the kick and slowly lowered her body to the ground. A soft grimace imperceptibly distorted her foreign features. “씨발,” she muttered, the Korean alto song riddled with sharp pain. Her hackles rose as she growled, and her body shuddered to keep quiet and to relax. She had been too close and her heel had made contact with the tree. But it had been the muscles around the knee that had suffered. The black hybrid knew that she would need to heel, but she had no materials on her, and without the resources of a pack, obtaining them would be difficult. A soft sigh escaped her graceful throat as the black, strong hands grasped her right thigh. Lunar orbs peered with contemplation. For now, all she could do was wait out the pain; later she could try to move herself and find a way to recover. She leaned back against the pelt-bound tree and shut her eyes, a soft frown of disappointment upon her quiet lips.

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