Hunting (RE, hunting for egg)

Hunting (RE, hunting for egg)

Ascended Helovian

Midas the Gallant Posts: 1,164

Deceased

Stallion :: Pegasus :: 14.3 hh :: Immortal :: Soul is 7 (FF) Buff: HUNTER

Fina :: Common Zephyr :: Phoenix & Wakiya & Neve :: Common Zephyr :: Arctic Angel

11-27-2012, 04:33 PM

The glossy egg was his. Midas had heard a soft voice whisper in his heart the fated choice that only he could settle. All this felt like something from a tale in youth, or a daydream. A creature pulsed beneath the thin shell, a creature that he felt an extremely strong urge to defend and care for; despite having never laid eyes upon what was inside. Instructions on caring for the egg came to him after he had returned to a more settling area with the unborn soul closely ridding between neck and chest. Chances were good that his new youngling would be hungry—and who was to say when it could hatch?

With a frosty wind still nipping in the air, he knew that gathering meat for an avian would be difficult, because many creatures would still be dormant or skittish. After hiding the egg in a secure location, Midas began slowly maneuvering the forest. He searched for something that would offer substance for the creature.

It was a bright afternoon, the warmest it’s been in weeks. A thinly covered collection of spruce and pine towered above him; he made his way past this until coming across a glade of white oak and sweet smelling cedar. Gazing up and around he paused when gaze found something worth looking at, a small gray squirrel sat posed on a trunk; upside down and descending from his hole high up. Attention narrowed with sharpened intent, he thought of the egg and summoned energy from the ground behind the tree.

Magical motions remained unseen by the now grounded squirrel that paused under said oak with beady eyes glancing round and noticing him. Horses were common in this land, and no apparent first hand fear shot the rodent back up and into his hole; instead they appeared to study each other. All the while a sharpened point of sand was molding, brows furrowed together in concentration. When he was ready Midas slowly requested his little spear head like creature to move around the tree. Taking aim from behind the general put all his effort into lunging the sand spear forward with hopes of piercing a rodent head for easy death.