A Battle of Bows

Frodo Silvertongue · 04-07-2012, 06:09 PM

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Yaaay. wc; 488

The young wolf crouched in the undergrowth.

His tail was held in a somewhat dominant position, as it always was when on a hunt. Fingers flexed, eyes narrowed, and with a subtle twitch of his lips, he was focused. He slipped his left hand up and down his bow once or twice, running fingers over the smooth wood, polished and oiled beyond count. And then the hand perched upon the string of the bow, and he tightened his grip, and adjusted his aim. All the while, Frodo’s heart was beating in his skinny chest, yet he somehow remained calm. As usual. He never grew tired of the wait, or the chase, and finally the kill. No matter which order these steps went in, they always led to one thing; a nice meal at the end of the day, and a well rewarded nap. Frodo lusted for these things and so his pulse quickened, as did his mind, and slowly, gently, he drew back the string, and-

SCREEEECCCHHHHH!

The doe he had been after bolted, darting away so fast, it was as if she’d used a teleportation device. Frodo cursed and dropped his bow; right onto his knee, and he “screeched” himself. Muttering and grumbling, the boy turned around to see who had ruined his hunt. There stood his horse, Strider, bare and white, looking very, very guilty. Wha’… Frodo muttered, wondering why his horse had made such a noise, when he knew, he knew how important hunting was. And then, with a jolt, Frodo saw the squirrel up in the tree, its tail curled and brow wrinkled. Now, Frodo was able to put two and two together. Strider hated squirrels; perhaps even more than he hated badgers. Just the look of one was enough to make the horse spook and cry out.

Shaking his head, Frodo picked up his bow swiftly and shot the squirrel from the tree. It had, after all, taken a part in ruining his hunt as well. It would no way near make up for the loss, but Frodo would eat it with some sort of pride. First though, he marched up to Strider. Bin’ trackin’ up tha’ for three days, Strider, you follow?! Do tha’ ter me ‘gain and I’ll…and I’ll… he half-shouted, though not that angrily. I’ll do somethin’ , that I will, to be sure I tell yer, wee piece of dynamite you! he growled, and the horse looked away; a gesture he had learnt from living around wolves to show submission. A submitting member of the pack never looked his uppers in the eye. Content with what “discipline” he had shown, Frodo then packed the squirrel away for safe keeping, mounted his horse, and kicked onwards, further into the depths of ethereal eclipse. Maybe, just maybe, there’d be a chance in hell that they’d come across something worth the time and the effort.

Frodo Silvertongue

Sebastian · 04-07-2012, 06:35 PM

Sebastian was wandering throughout the massive forest for far less practical reasons than Frodo. He was simply exploring for the sake of exploring, and the chance to either bag some food or see a piece of forest that begged to be painted. Though he had found no such patch of forest, he had managed to shoot a rabbit and was happily gnawing on the corpse's chewy legs as he drifted through the trees like a lost and somewhat spaced-out balloon.

He was, as per usual for the acrobatic artisan, clad in only a pair of jeans with bare feet and chest. He was weighed down by his bow, quiver of arrows and the satchel containing everything he needed to whip up a picture. He also carried his "travelling supplies" as he called them inside the satchel. These were two bottles of wine, a trashy romance novel and a spare pair of jeans. His daggers were neatly sheathed in his pockets.

Sebastian smacked his lips loudly as he tore through the leg of the deceased rabbit and left the bones on the ground. Scavengers would pick them up soon enough. The Italian was so focused on the rabbit that he'd almost missed the sound of hoofbeats on the forest floor. Almost.

Silky red ears twitched as the artisan froze. Could it be Tupelo, the horse who'd had it in for him back in Casa di Cavalieri? Surely not. Just a traveller. Not that psychotic equine that pretended to be so sweet and innocent around Wayne. No, just a stray. Or a traveller. Or a particularly fat deer. Whatever the case, Sebastian intended to be prepared.

Sebastian leaped upwards and scaled the nearest tree, alighting on a thick branch some twelve feet off the ground. He watched the forest trail with deep suspicion, his bow drawn and an arrow nocked in the direction of the hoofbeats. Sebastian was perfectly visible for those looking; his bright red and white fur stood out in shocking relief to the green and brown of the forest. It was only a question of whether or not he should shoot the impending threat.

Frodo Silvertongue · 05-04-2012, 11:19 AM

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word count; 446

They carried onwards, not particularly on the road to anywhere, until Frodo saw a flash of red scale a tree like a monkey. He'd never seen such a thing, and watched the blur of red hitch itself onto branches and be still. It had moved so much like a monkey would, that at first, Frodo thought that was indeed what it was. But there was definitely nothing of the sort in these parts...no, they prefered the more exotic areas, that Frodo had personally visited on several occasions. Still, the figure interested him, and it was out of curiosity that he sped up Strider's gait from a hunched trot to a determined canter. Luperci and horse made straight for Sebastian, and as they grew ever-closer, Frodo could sense a little better of what the red creature was.

Frodo inhaled, and smelt canine. He looked up and saw the tell-tale shape of a wolf, and the masculine curves of a male. Not to mention he knew all that from smell, but he was traditional and liked to use his eyes; he was more of a sighthound than anything. But the next thing he saw, before he'd got too close, was that the stranger was brandishing a weapon. A weapon suspiciously similar to his own favourite. And it was pointed straight at him. Or rather, his horse. With a gasp, the Silvertongue male drew out his own bow and unsheathed an arrow, shoving the peacock-feathered rim to rest on the string as he pointed a threat straight back. Silently, the man let his horse canter around the tree once before pulling Strider to a halt at its base. Hey! he called up and out, not exactly angry, but more confused. Now, put yer trinket down, an' no-one need get plastered. he urge calmly, jutting his chin out in a smooth motion, his motive to draw Sebastian into a sense of security, so that he'd lay down the bow. For the moment, he supposed that the stranger was mad with hunger or something, to be threatening a horse from beneath his legs, but there might be a chance he was just randomly angry. If so, Frodo's calm manner would be the solution. The thought never occurred to the black, ginger, and dyed-golden boy that Sebastian didn't like - or was scared - of horses in general. Because that thought would be irrelevant to someone like Frodo. Because in his mind, nobody disliked horses. That was probably from his own experiences, however. He was a gypsy, and gypsy's loved horses...how could they not, when horses did all their work? People relied on these fine creatures since technology had diminished.

Sebastian · 05-19-2012, 07:43 AM

damn me for forgetting this D: let me know if I keep you waiting again!

Sebastian's hand tightened on the bowstring, keeping it taut and ready. He very nearly loosed it when the stranger unsheathed his own bow and pointed an arrow right back to the Italian. Ha. He was a fool if he actually believed Sebastian was going to put his own weapon down while a stranger was pointing an arrow right back at him.

The artisan raised his bow, aiming for the male's heart. Before, it had been aimed at his horse- but with a direct threat to his own body, Sebastian couldn't afford to play nice. He withdrew into the foliage, giving the stranger a more difficult target.

"Tempting, but no." Sebastian's hands were steady on the bow. "You could be a bandit for all I know. How about you put that bow away first?" This was sort of his own fault, he knew. He could have just drawn his bow without pointing it at someone first. Still, they were in this position now, and if one of them was going to leave looking like a porcupine it wasn't going to be him.

Frodo Silvertongue · 05-19-2012, 09:58 AM

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It's fine ;D This isn't turning out as expected... thought I'd have Frodo show off though, it could get Seb interested in exchanging techniques x'D Sorry it's so long, and if I didn't explain what he did so well, pm me or something! word count; 650

He was not expecting for the stranger to hold the bow in place. What threat was Frodo and his horse? They had just been walking through, passing through and minding their own business. Whatever dangers Sebastian seemed to think they contained was news to Frodo. Still, he sensed that the stranger might be more scared than angry. After all, Frodo had done nothing to anger him, right? Except for draw his own weapon....but come on, that had been self defense! Or, defense for his horse. He watched with intense green eyes as Sebastian moved his weapon so that it was not pointing at Strider, but at Frodo's heart. Frodo stifled a groan, but he kept perfectly still, face intact as Sebastian scampered further into the branches.

I sure as hell aint no bandit. An' I a-wan't sum kinda explanashun before I lower me guard. You follow? he shouted up into the tree. Grimacing, the weapon still held in place, he stooped up from his horse, kneeling on Strider's back and eventually hopping off. He clicked in his tongue and the horse trotted away quietly, searching for cover. This was all the communication he needed to tell his horse to do something. The horse was out of the way now; Frodo couldn't have it put in danger.

Frodo took a step back to squint at the red blur. Even hidden between leaves - which was cowardice, in Frodo's opinion - Seb was easy to spot, and easier to strike, especially since Frodo had learnt how to use a bow since he'd been able to shift. Bandits go roun' in groups. Yer see others wiv' me? Yer SMELL others? Nope. I ent no bandit. Just a traveler. he continued. An' a ruddy good shot. he smiled, the string of his bow taut, just against his cheek, held ready in place. He wanted to withdraw, and calm the stranger down, but he was having too much fun. Figuring he wasn't in too much danger, he unloosed the arrow, holding it safely against the hip, and used his free hand to grab at his ring necklace. Ripping the chain from his neck, he threw it up into the air, very far indeed. And, showing off, which wasn't something he'd normally do, he quickly knocked the arrow back into place and let go of the string. As the necklace was chain with a ring attached, he aimed for the arrow to go straight through the ring. And so it did.

The arrow ended up piercing straight through the ring and then right into the bark of a tree. There, the arrow held solidly, vibrating a little, the ring necklace hanging from it gently. If I wanted it too, tha' arrow would have got yer already, straight in the conker. I am no threat. If I wanted some dinner, ah woulda butchered yer already. he explained, while grabbing the chain to pull over his head once more, and pulling the arrow out to go safely in the sheath. He hung his bow back over his shoulder, as he didn't seem to want to defend himself anymore. Seb might have shot him already, but Frodo hadn't thought of that...he figured that the red-furred male would have been too curious to see what Frodo was doing, that he would have forgotten about the weapon in his own hands.

Frodo leapt upon a nearby tree; one with a low, broad branch that was easy to scramble upon, and watched the stranger lazily from there. Frodo wasn't very high up at all, not having really climbed a tree before, but he had a better view from where he was now. He wondered if his explanation about not being a threat was plausible (though the stranger had actually been afraid of the horse, though Frodo didn't know that), or if the opposing wolf would try and shoot him anyway.

Sebastian · 05-30-2012, 10:24 AM

ARGH. *forgetful* Scotty needs to learn how to keep time...

The only thing Frodo's protestations earned from Sebastian was a raised eyebrow. The short wolf was a good shot- able to hit the centre of a moving ring was no easy feat, he had to admit- but it was clear he was no bandit. Still, his arrogance was somewhat grating to the Italian. He had his own pride to look after.

Sebastian loosed his arrow diagonally, aiming for the spot where the other wolf's arrow had pinned his ring to a tree. His target wasn't moving- but it was certainly a smaller target and a more awkward angle. The black-feathered arrow whizzed down and struck the spot where Frodo's arrow had impaled the ring.

"Well, it's clear you are no bandit," Sebastian drawled languidly. "A bandit wouldn't have felt the need to show off and lose his arrow while someone was pointing an arrow at his heart." Really. Sebastian could have impaled the Not-Bandit as soon as he threw his ring.

"And I hardly think you could have gotten me in the... 'conker.'" Whatever the hell that was. "As I recall, I had my weapon pointed at you first." Frodo was lucky that Sebastian's curiosity had prevented him from forcing the stranger to do a porcupine impression.

Frodo Silvertongue · 06-12-2012, 03:43 PM

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:] I SWEAR for faster replies.. word count; 331

No sooner than he had loosed his own arrow, a secondary one flew threw the air and also pierced the same spot. Frodo smiled, admiring the handiwork. He narrowed his eyes to the point of a squint, trying to identify the wood and the feather of the arrow. All he could tell from the distance was that it looked well made, and had a black feather. Frodo's own arrows were blood-red oak and mahogany, with brass markings along their sides. The feathers were peacock feathers. It made them easier to find, and easier to use, having a big, colourful feather.

At the strangers words, Frodo frowned for a second, and then broke into a grin, and then a laugh. His chuckles were hearty, tinkling like silvered bells. And then he cleared his throat, and wiped his brow. I confess, I were showin' off. but then he lifted a slender black finger, and pointed accusingly. But yer were too, wicked little snickersnee. Ask jeeves. he added, rather oddly, his interesting voice not bearing to keep some of his daily nonsense out of it.

Finally, Frodo raised an eyebrow, and fell into a lazy pose. Today, he simply couldn't be bothered to care whether to act cautious or not. Seb was still seeming to threaten him, slightly, but he didn't feel endangered. As if to point this out, he lay down on his belly, chest slightly raised and chin resting upon a propped up elbow. First the worst, second the best. he said with a wink. Third the one with the hairless chest. he couldn't remember where he'd heard that rhyme, or why it had suddenly sprang to mind. Nah, I reckon yer wouldn't have snuck a barter. Yer...yer were scared. his voice was not mocking, but it seemed to tease a bit, as he watched the red form above his head. It were the 'orse, weren't it? he said, slightly amused. Nevermind, every man's weak-of-the-knees at summit. What's yer name, stranger?

Sebastian · 06-22-2012, 05:37 PM

LATE AND SHORT ARGH I'M SORRY

Sebastian could only watch. Though he spoke this language fluently, he still had difficulty when they spoke too quickly, had unfamiliar accents or used unfamiliar phrases. Frodo had these in great abundance. Snickersnee? Jeeves? Snuck a barter? Summit? Weak-at-the-knees?

Sebastian gazed at him in utter confusion. The Italian believed that he had caught the gist of several sentences, but really... What strange lands had he hailed from where they spoke such a language so strangely?

"My apologies, Messieur", he intoned, raising an eyebrow curiously as he crossed his arms over his chest, a warm smile beginning to show on the white half of his muzzle. "I fear that I do not speak this tongue as well as I should- consequentially, I'm afraid I have little idea what you are saying. What on earth is a snickersnee?" he shrugged ruefully.

Frodo Silvertongue · 06-26-2012, 06:53 AM

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:] it's totally fine. word count; 280+

Frodo almost felt as if he was talking to himself, the way the stranger just looked at him blankly and refused to reply for a long time. Each person he met, their reaction to his voice was different. Some people were amused, some people were politely accepting, some people were disgusted, and well....most people were just downright confused. He got that a lot. But he refused to try and change who he was. He was used to it, although as he'd just been threatened along with his horse, he wasn't that calm today. "I'll tell yer what it is, it's one of you! An' as you refusin' to be tellin' me yer actual name, guess it's what I'll call you, snick'. he exclaimed, crossing his arms in a pouty manner to mirror the stranger. "My turn. What on a cat's nine lives is a Messieur?" his tone was somewhat sarcastic, but he had it down that Snickersnee shouldn't be complaining about other people's accents when he put odd words into the mix too. To be fair, that seemed to be the first thing Snickersnee had said that didn't make sense, but Frodo pushed that thought of his mind.

He looked up and tried to squint at Snickersnee's bow once more, but it seemed as if he couldn't really tell what kind it was, and what material it was made from. Touch wood, if yer done with hidin', Snickersnee, can I press my peepers on yer bow? he asked, wanting to see the weapon so he could compare it with his own. If it could shoot from that sort of angle, it must have some sort of secret, and he wanted in.

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