Outcast- Kyrazha

[Rhonya]

The sounds of birds woke me up, chirping in the trees nearby, announcing the morning. Lazily I stretched myself out under the furs, curling up against Sadok again a moment, yawning wide. He was still asleep, as usual, snoring loudly. With a soft shake of my head, I crawled out from under the furs, my stomach rumbling. Time for some hunting. Cera greeted me with a nudge of her nose as I walked outside, clad in some simple leathers and holding my bow in my hand while fixing the straps of my quiver.
“No’ today, Cera. Ya be too loud wit’ ‘untin’. Ya stay wit’ Sadok.” I said while letting my hand run over the deep red crest of the direhorn, who let out a low, content grunt at the touch. Smiling, I made my way further into camp, nodding some greetings to the guards. The camp seemed quiet this early morning, most still sleeping or perhaps out as well. I knew I wasn’t supposed to go out far by myself, so I looked around, standing on the small hill next to camp.

Nagrand was beautiful, even with the looming threat of the Warsong so nearby. Green fields, hills and cliffsides, trees, a light breeze surrounding me and messing up my hair even more. It wasn’t cold, even though the light chill of the morning still hung in the air. Clefthooves stomped easily through the landscape, no fear for anything, their strength in their numbers and the fact they were just huge creatures. I wouldn’t bother trying to get one of those down on my own, it would be suicide.
Keeping my bow and an arrow in my hand, I made my way down the hill. Maybe a Talbuk… Though those were nasty too, had to be lucky to find one alone and not paying attention too much. Those horns could put a hole in me easily if I wasn’t careful. The wolfpacks running around were not safe to hunt either, I’d get the whole pack on my head.

As I silently moved from tree to tree, keeping to the shadows, I spotted a hill not far from the path, with windrocs swarming around something. I couldn’t see yet what it was, so I crept closer slowly in the high grass, my skincolor actually giving a good camouflage here. As I came closer I saw what had made the rocs coming here. An old clefthoof, slumped to the ground, the eyes unfocused and non-seeing. The rocs just waited here for it to die, an easy meal. Which in turn might give me an easy meal if I managed to get one of them down. I chose a high spot, downwind from the birds.
I knew that if I shot one, I’d have to be fast. The flock would probably fly up for a moment in shock, but they’d be back fast enough after seeing nothing more was happening. I knocked an arrow on my bow, crouching behind some grass on the hill, looking down.
Taking one of the fattest one in my sight, I aimed and let the arrow fly. A loud screech sounded, a flurry of feathers and the other rocs flew up in panic, making a hell of a noise. In the confusion I ran in, my bow back on the hill as not to hinder in my movements, a knife in my hand. Without hesitation I found the shot bird and slit it’s throat while it lay there dying, the arrow having gone straight into the chest. I grabbed the two large talons in my hand and quickly made my way back up the hill to my hiding spot in the high grass, dragging the heavy thing with me.

The other rocs didn’t follow, not wanting to leave their easy meal of dead clefthoof. Grinning wide, I started to pluck my prize, sticking some of the more long, pretty feathers into my belt.  I could make something out of those later. While I sat there, leaning my back against a rock, my eye fell on the group of windrocs in the distance. One was sitting on the ground, hopping closer to a tree nearby, before pecking at something and flying off again.

For a second I thought I saw something black flashing out, like a paw, and I could swear I heard  a low growl. I kept my eyes on it for a little while longer, but nothing else happened. My curiousity won it from my caution as I slowly started to make my way down to the tree, bow and arrow in my hand. Just to be sure.
As I got closer I could hear ragged breathing coming from a place deep into the shadows under the tree. I narrowed my eyes, trying to see what it was. I sniffed the air, but that didn’t give me much clues either. The scent was somehow familiar, but also strange, especially in these lands. I had smelled it before though, but where..?

Nothing happened as I came close to the bush, apart from a low growl sounding. A warning, I knew that very well. Carefully I poked one side of my bow into the bush. A black paw came flashing out, claws extended, swatting my bow away with an angry gesture and a loud growl. A striped paw… For a moment I just stood there, confused, before realizing what animal lay there, hidden under the bush. A tiger. I’d seen them before, in Talador when we passed with the tribe through it, on the border of Nagrand in the woods. Black, with bright red stripes. So alien to me, for I was used to the normal colors of orange and black felines.

But what was it doing here? No tigers lived in Nagrand to my knowledge. Had it been chased from the woods of Talador, seeking a new place to live? An outcast maybe. Curiously I picked up my bow again and made my way back to the Roc I’d shot, cutting off a leg piece with my knife, before walking back to the bush. I put the piece of meat in front of it, before stepping back again.
The growling was still there, but I could hear a sniffing as well, and as I waited patiently, a black and white muzzle poked out of the bush. Bright red eyes were fixated on me, looking unsure and cautious. I sat still, not moving, just keeping my form small. Not a threat. The eyes moved, looking at the bird leg now, before the paw came forwards again and with a quick movement pulled it into the bush. Sounds of tearing and crunching were heard and within minutes the now bloodcoated muzzle came poking through the leaves again, clearly looking for more.

I snickered softly, very carefully moving back up on the hill, just dragging the whole roc corpse with me, removing part of the feathers and cutting off another piece of meat. This time I laid it a little bit further from the bush, and the great cat slowly approached it. I got a good look at him then. He was stick thin, ribs clearly visible and a large wound was on his side, like a bite wound. Probably one of the wolfpacks that had gotten a hold of him, a strange animal in these lands, in their territory.
How long had he been hiding in that bush, without eating? Or maybe he’d seen the clefthoof corpse as well, but didn’t dare coming closer to it due to the rocs. With a soft sound, I pushed the meat a little closer to him so he could grab it, and very gently touched the side of his face with my finger. He pulled back right away again after grabbing the piece between his long teeth.

And so I spend hours sitting next to the bush, next to the tiger, slowly feeding him, even managing to have him drink some water. He didn’t trust me completely, but I was working on it, slowly. Maybe soon I could try something with that wound, see how bad it actually was, if he would let me touch it. Maybe…We’d see. I couldn’t just leave him there at least, not belonging in the wilds in Nagrand, having no place to go. And I’d had a tiger before that I missed dearly now…Maybe I could win this one over as well.

I’d try. I swore to myself I’d try.