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 Posted: Tue Nov 10, 2015 11:13 am
A text was sent to Orah with some assistance and a lot of consultation. They'd grown apart in the last few months with his increasingly busy schedule, so perhaps a call out of the blue may not have been appropriate, but Shale supposed that a text still facilitated interaction without encroaching too much on Orah's life. Socializing warranted so many more considerations and unspoken rules in this culture that Shale found obtrusive, but he learned to deal with them in instances like these. While the mechanics involved in texting irked him greatly, the possibility of what he gained from it outweighed irritants like technology.
Shale focused on being curt, but not overly so. He left the invitation open to declination, but he specified that if she chose to go, they would meet on the edge of town at the beginnings of avast trail network. The trails themselves were intended for dirt biking and marked thusly, with some trails proudly displaying their black diamond rating, and spidered miles and miles into the dense forest. However, the trail system housed a second use when one meandered far enough into its labyrinth - more than a few of those trails dead ended into large canyons that proved ideal for shooting practice.
And, naturally, being so far removed from the city, many a young man or woman enjoyed visiting the place with a cooler full of beer and far too many firearms to mix with drunken intention. Shale expected that these individuals would not be a problem, for the inquiry was sent in the off season, and few bothered to show when the weather did not comfort.
Orah had accepted, surprisingly, so his time there was spent in quiet wait as he showed up early to the appointed time. The extra minutes allowed him to ground himself in nature, reacquaint his senses with the world he spent so little time in now, and return to his roots. The hunter sat upon one of the large, gnarled roots that trailed out from a great tree of several feet in circumference. He didn't mind digging fingers into the thick bark while he waited. It, too, felt grounding. He looked toward the dying leaves, and noted the manner in which the sunlight filtered through warm oranges, deep reds, and brittle browns. He watched how they lit upon his case in a manner random and accidental, as all of nature's devices.
Orah had her own bow by now, which Shale found a welcome relief - he needn't lug about the second case and all of its supplies. He did, however, bring a surplus of arrows should one of them accidentally shoot off into the distance. He didn't expect it, but he planned for it.
Their appointed time was noon, and his watch read 11:30, so he had some time yet to wait unless she showed up early.
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Posted: Tue Nov 10, 2015 8:37 pm
She had been surprised to get the text from Shale sort of out of the blue and then promptly felt horrible for letting their regular archery lessons become far less regular and further between. It wasn't that she didn't want to... but as with so many things these days, it was hard to get up the will to do anything about it.
She'd said yes because he had asked and she really did want to see him again and get a chance to try the target shooting in the woods that they had talked about months ago. It would have been better in summer, maybe, while the weather had still been warm, but at least in this instance, Orah knew how to prepare for a cold day in the forrest. At least some of her memories were useful, even if the majority of them were more of a hinderance than a help.
The young woman arrived at the trail head not too long before the time they'd agreed on, but despite being a little early, she found her teacher waiting for her seated on the roots of a tree. Orah couldn't help finding the picture of him there pleasing... he fit well into his environment, better than he did in the city, and there was a visible relaxation she had never seen before. He looked good.
Shifting her grip on her bow case, she went to join him, her brown hiking boots kicking up fallen leaves. She'd dressed simply in worn jeans and an old, heavy sweatshirt with a sports team emblazoned across her chest. They had all belonged to her brother at some point and while they didn't flatter her form, they at least fit and more importantly, they were warm. Especially with the long sleeved shirt she had layered under it and the cream knit hat holding her hair back.
"Shale!" Orah called as she lifted a hand in a dark, fingerless glove. Her normal bag bounced against her hip with her quiver attached to it, the case with her bow in her other hand.
"Its really good to see you again." She said with real feeling as she stopped at his side. "I'm sorry its been so long."
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Posted: Thu Nov 19, 2015 12:43 am
Shale opened his eyes to sight Orah's approach. "We've both been busy." He imagined it was true for her, too. Her studies demanded rigorous review and practice to form any concrete understandings. Shale doubted he could (or would) embark on a nursing degree as she did, but she settled for the choice. It touched on the particular brand of happiness she sought for other people. To Shale, it looked difficult and thankless - but that only clarified that he did not belong in such a role.
"I thought we should try shooting in the woods since you don't have any experience with imperfect shooting conditions." He stood then, stretched, popped a few joints. "There's a good canyon down one of the walking trails that will prevent arrows from flying too far. No one's there right now, and it doesn't look well-used. The downside is it's a significant walk." Shale wouldn't mind it, he doubted Orah would either, but they both carried fairly heavy equipment and wanted to get started.
"Follow me. We'll talk on the way." Shale about-faced from where he stood on the tree root and crossed over the remaining gnarled appendages with balance and ease. Walking through the wooded paths was restorative for him, and he felt marginally closer to the person he was before reaching Destiny City. He heard the birds twittering and trilling from the trees, and could identify a good handful of them by tone alone. He knew the types of trees that curled about them with brilliant autumn touching their leaves. And, naturally, he knew the occasional tracks that crossed the path. It had rained in the area days ago, leaving the ground soft and receptive to printing.
Without thinking much of it, Shale settled into avoidance of stepping on tracks, twigs, or crinkling leaves. He kept to rocks when possible, and always preferred the higher points of the trail to the lower. He spoke seldom but to invoke Orah's conversation; he himself felt no need to speak excessively.
He paused at a short basin and looked toward the hills. Without turning to her, he asked for the start of conversation. "Have you been well?"
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Posted: Mon Nov 23, 2015 9:04 pm
"I remember talking about it, last time I think it was. I've been really looking forward to it actually and its only a shame its taken so long to find the time." She offered a small smile as he rose, watching as he stretched. "And I don't mind the walk. It'll be nice, getting away from the city for a while."
The young woman was content to fall in behind and to the side of her teacher as he set off into the woods, her eyes on the path to prevent tripping on anything as they went. Shale was oddly silent as they went, more than she would have expected. When she stopped to think about it, though, it made sense. He'd been a hunter, she knew that much. Being silent in the woods would have been one of the kills he'd have needed.
Orah, for her part, moved with ease, but not the skill he had. She gave him the higher ground and clearer places and wound her way through the easier places, as much by his side as she could manage. She didn't feel much need to bring up conversation topics, but hearing him break the silence finally was a welcome change. She felt more relaxed, more comfortable, just for this small space of time away from it all. It brought an ease to her voice when she answered.
"I've been well, more or less. Working hard at school. I've been trying to focus on that, on getting my life on the right track, I guess. I feel like I've been distracted a lot the last couple of years and I need to focus on myself a little more." Well... maybe not herself so much as her role in everything. In what she was doing and where she was going.
"You? How has Slate been? Have you two been getting on okay?" It had been even longer since she had seen the red-headed brother of her friend and the embarrassing conversation they'd had in their kitchen. Shale had worried so much about him and tried so hard to find him... she really hoped it had worked out well for them, being reunited.
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Posted: Fri Nov 27, 2015 7:15 am
"That's important." Pale eyes slid to her momentarily. He found it far more common for people to neglect themselves as part of city culture. He personally found that to be inefficient, but he knew not what they based their judgments on. Was Orah privy to that trend? It was possible. Whether she made progress in breaking that trend or not remained to be seen; her efforts left her looking tired, but somewhat satisfied.
She said that per passion laid with selling flowers, though, which left him wondering.
"We're figuring things out." His brother was not as much a concern of his anymore; for all his wishes against Slate's joining, the Negaverse afforded significantly more oversight than he could. Porsha also sheltered the youth for him. Most fortuitously, the recently discovered youma gave Shale reason to relax about Slate, as he needn't worry both about his brother's well-being and how his behavior reflected on Shale. Or Porsha, even, as the corrupting officer.
Shale started on the downward slope of the trail and did so with ease, despite the littering of old leaves. "We've grown apart. We've both had too many obligations. This will resolve in time - it always has." Their bond remained strong the majority of their lives, even if it weakened at points. Even if it weakened intentionally sometimes. He expected that Slate did not always feel the same toward him, and most likely resented him for what he did by now, but he noted that Slate hadn't mentioned a word of that night in the cell or the creature inside his mind. Shale wasn't certain if that proved fortuitous.
"We're almost to the canyon. It's just through this pass-" Shale stopped immediately, silent, and on high alert. He held out a quiet hand to halt Orah's tracks, too, and then pointed between the aspen trees toward the distance. Though mist still settled in the peripheries of their field of vision, visibility remained for a few hundred feet. He gestured in a location where the aspens grew slightly thicker, and bushes were barely present far beyond them. However, a closer look and a trained eye could identify the shapes as moving - and, ultimately, as a buck and doe. "They came through here," he muttered lowly, and brushed away some of the leaves to reveal the trail. A long-ingrained urge goaded him to pursue the pair, but he refrained with visible effort. "But this isn't a hunting lesson."
Shale resumed, led his companion down through the pass, and rounded out with the canyon just off to the right of the trail. He descended into its embankment, paused momentarily to ensure that Orah needed no help, then continued to the basin. "I picked up a few targets, but in case we couldn't set them..." Shale opened one case and pulled from it a can of spraypaint intended for impromptu targets.
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Posted: Thu Dec 10, 2015 7:08 pm
"Its hard, when distance forms between family members. I've felt that too, since I moved out. My younger brother feels like a stranger sometimes... like I don't know who he is any more. I suppose that's what happens, though, when you're not around all the time, keeping an eye on them." Orah shrugged gently, picking her way over a tumble of rocks. "I hope things get better with your brother... it sounds like you're on the path to it."
She followed the hunter down the slope, picking her way carefully and bracing against sliding. It took a portion of her concentration, but she managed fairly well. At the bottom, she looked up, catching Shale frozen in place and slowed to a stop, watching him watching the woods. At his gesture, she follow his pointing hand with her eyes and found little more than crowded trees and brush. A frown pulled her brows together as she tried to pick out whatever it was that he had seen, but all she seemed to catch was the barest of motion that could have been wind in the late autumn leaves. It must have been something though, or it wouldn't have caught Shale's attention.
After a moment, he brushed aside some leaves to show some impressions in the damp floor. It was amazing to Orah, how he so easily picked out the signs. Second nature, probably, from years of practice. It was... really wonderful to see. It always was, watching someone using skills they had worked hard to gain. The young woman was silent as he started down the trail again, falling into step behind him.
"We need the new arrow tips, right? If we're using something like a tree as a target." She worked her way down the embankment with cautious steps, eyes on her feet. "Not the ones I've been using at the range..."
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Posted: Thu Dec 17, 2015 2:38 am
"It might be hard, but it's important." Strife and duress were the hardest paths to change, but the most reliable. For now, Slate endured great strife, but the outcome looked promising - he would, ultimately, change from it. Shale expected that the youmaglia would shape that change. Was Orah enduring something of similar caliber with her brother? He expected not, even hoped it so. Orah, he felt, would not benefit from these trials currently.
Shale retired his bow case to the side of the canyon and fished around one of the plastic compartments. "Right. If you shot with your normal tips, chances are your arrows will disappear. I brought grabbing points for this." Holding one up, Shale demonstrated the bizarre shape of the point and its grabbing protrusions. "With these, your arrows won't disappear into ground cover. I'll need your help removing the old arrow heads, if you'll hold the lighter." After retiring the arrowhead, Shale sifted a different compartment for a small lighter, not much different form those typically used for cigarettes. Additionally, he reclaimed a blue stick of ostensibly glue and a pair of pliers.
"I'll do yours first. Then we can hang targets." The cluster of trees before them offered good variable distance in their shots, and he felt certain that Orah would not overshoot the canyon.
"If you wanted, you could use field tips - those are good for archery tournaments, and some hunters use them to practice for big game because they can weigh about the same as a broadhead. I've never used them for practice. I don't see any benefit in using field tips instead of broadheads for practice if you intend to hunt - the only use is that you do less damage to your targets." And, of course, the steel broadhead receives less wear. But, he imagined, Orah probably didn't care much for hunting. And if he hadn't picked it up out of need, he doubted he would be as interested in it.
"I'll do the first arrow. If you're interested, you can change the rest of yours. It's an easy process; you won't damage anything."
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Posted: Mon Dec 21, 2015 9:11 pm
He was right... family was important. Orah knew and understood that, and believed it, on a deep level. It was just... not something she got to practice as much as she would have liked. With the way her life was now, with this war, there were simply too many questions to answer if she kept her family close. Pushing them away, accepting the distance from her father and her younger brother, would keep them safe and her free to do her duty as a senshi.
Reaching the base of the canyon, Orah trailed after Shale and mimiced him as she settled her case beside his.
"Sure, I don't mind holding it." She said as she popped the latches on her case and opened it, uncovering the bow she was still secretly intensely proud of. Granted, it was not as nice as Shale's bow. She was not the first owner and she had not had the amount of money it would have taken to get a really nice bow... but there was pride in ownership of something like this, something you bought on your own, for yourself, with the intent to use it. It was her bow, and she wouldn't have to borrow from Shale any more.
Dark eyes traced the strange arrow heads, but accepted that they were correct because her teacher said they were. They certainly looked like they would stick in things better than the rounded tips of her target arrows.
"I'll use whatever you're using, that's fine with me. And I wouldn't mind giving the head change a try... I do want to know how to do it for myself for later. I don't expect you'll always be around to change my arrowheads for them..." She said with a quirk of a smile before she retrieved her quiver, drawing out one arrow and holding it lightly while she waited him to finish his preparations.
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Posted: Wed Dec 23, 2015 2:37 am
"Some people never learn to change their arrowheads." He remembered, specifically, a hunter that specifically stopped by the archery store on the way to his hunting grounds to have them change out every arrow. "In the city, there are a lot more conveniences for that. Most archery stores will change your tips for you." Shale found it to be more effort to have someone else change his arrows - it involved talking, foremost, and answering questions about his tattoos, and enduring the occasional individual that either tried to goad him for his looks or assumed that he was native american.
Shale pulled a blue bar from a pocket in his bow case. "Each arrowhead of mine is stuck in place with some glue." He plucked one from their felted inserts and showed the tip, where small blue beads congealed around the arrow opening. Afterward he retired it to the case. "The arrows that came with your bow are glued too. If you look at the ones you bought with the bow, they have a metal insert in the arrow shaft. Those have threads on the inside, so you can buy screw-in tips and not need this process." Shale purchased a handful of inserts himself and switched over a few arrows when he found out about their usefulness, but he still retained a fair collection of glued arrows.
Leaning over her, Shale plucked one of the arrows from her case. "It's a simple process." He handed her the lighter. "You heat the glue with the lighter and you can pull out the heads with pliers. Readying the needlenose set he had, he held the end of the arrow shaft over the open flame, then wriggled and plugged the tip manually. "To put a new tip in, you just heat the edge of the glue stick and roll it onto the new tip." He held the blue bar near the flame and waited until it showed signs of melting. Afterward, he picked one of the bizarre arrowheads and rolled its edge in the glue until it was liberally covered. With the pliers, he pressed the new head into the arrow. A few beads of glue bubbled around the edges, but they soon solidified. "It takes getting used to, but you don't have to worry about damaging your arrows. The glue can always get reheated to start over. It's not like the screw-on tips where you can strip the threads and have to throw away the insert."
Shale handed over the blue bar of glue and its plastic baggy, the other baggy full of tips, and his well-used set of pliers. He arranged them on the ground neatly for Orah to pick from if she chose. "I'll hang the targets. If you have trouble, I'll help you after." He didn't imagine she would - Orah proved a quick study when it came to archery.
Shale stood without bothering to brush the dust from the knees of his jeans. he gathered the handful of targets he brought in a roll alongside the metal spikes, then started across the clearing of the canyon toward one of the trees that stood not far from the wall. Mentally he considered placement, whether to use the tree itself or keep his targets to the canyon walls, and the sudden, wrenching shock of pain that shot through his thigh. He stumbled then, with a stifled grunt, and looked down to find both broadhead and arrow shaft protruding from his thigh. It pained him immensely, and he reached down to grip the muscle just above the injury. Searching the forest around him yielded no sign of the culprits.
"Orah," he managed, strained. He couldn't hold himself upright for long. My luck to get shot with a nurse around.
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Posted: Thu Dec 31, 2015 8:06 pm
"Its good to know that a store will do it, on the off chance I can't for some reason do it myself. Not that I anticipate ever needing it." She shrugged and offered a small smile as she watched him start the process, pulling glue from his case and offering her a view of his arrows. The bit of something around the tips made more sense now.
He pulled an arrow from her case and she took the lighter from him, flicking it on without needing to be told and holding it steady while he used the heat to melt the glue. She'd never considered heating glue before to release it, but it made a sort of sense. It had a lot of the same qualities that plastic had, and you could melt that. Or wax.
"I suppose the benefit to glued tips versus threaded tips is that the glue might hold a little better...? Or is there no real difference?" Orah questioned as he pulled the tip free and switched it out for another. The process looked simple enough... it just needed care and a sure, steady hand. Both of which she had, once she got the hang of it.
When Shale offered to hang the targets, she nodded along and shifted her attention from him to one of her arrows, dark eyes focused on the tip she now needed to remove. The trick now was how to work everything without a third hand as he had had... The young woman settled for getting the tip pinched firmly in the pliers before she flicked the lighter on and held it under to head the glue. Only when she thought it might be melted enough did she release the flame and take the shaft in her hand instead, wiggling it about to get it off. It took some doing and it didn't want to come free at first, either because she was too timid to apply too much force or she hadn't heated it enough, it was hard to tell. Orah ended up settling for reheating the tip and then finally it came free, her face clearing from a frown of concentration to a victorious, quietly pleased smile.
Replacing the glue was another tricky bit and as she considered holding the glue stick between her knees while she heated it, a sudden noise drew her head up. It sounded like an impact, like something with give being struck... followed by Shale's muffled voice.
The sight of blood was shocking and unwelcome.
"Shale!" Orah dropped the arrow and tip as she surged to her feet, breaking into a run to reach her friend's side. "Oh god, what...? Where did it come from?"
The arrow had pierced him clean through the high, sticking out grotesquely from the other side. Bile role up in her throat as her stomach knotted, but she pushed it down firmly, throwing an arm around Shale's waist to give him support to take the weight off his leg.
"Here, sit down and we'll take a look at it." She managed to get past the lump in her throat as she helped him down. "I... I didn't bring much in the way of medical supplies, just the very basics. I didn't think I'd need to do stitches or anything serious. Do you have something we can cut the arrow short with? If I can bind it tight, we can get you somewhere I can handle it better... Or a hospital, if you've changed your mind about that?"
Not a hospital, obviously... they'd already had that talk, but there was a better medical kit in her car, and even more back at the apartment.
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Posted: Wed Jan 06, 2016 10:22 am
The whole of Shale's attention funneled down to his breathing, as he tried desperately to wrench thought from the paralyzing agony bolting through his leg. He drew breath through nose, then exhaled through mouth, and forced himself to count the seconds between to eliminate hyperventilation. He did not, however, refuse Orah's assistance in helping him mobilize - Shale entrusted as much weight off his leg as he could with her attempts to move him.
She needs to cut it. Think. Still gritting his teeth, Shale forced himself to look toward the offending object. A field tip, he noted, which meant far less damage than a broadhead. Carbon fiber shaft. It wouldn't splinter like wood. Orah needn't saw it. "There's - clippers. They look like. The pliers. Red grip. In my case. Meant for cutting arrows." The words came between hisses of breath while he tried to keep proper oxygen supply. His body urged a revolt, for him to curl in on himself with the pain inflicted. Overwhelming that urge demanded considerable willpower that drained at a frightening pace.
Breaths passed. Seconds passed. He reminded unrelated muscles to relax from their viciously locked positions.
"If I have to go. To a hospital. I'll go." Sweat formed a cold sheen over skin; his tattoos took a shine under the cold, muted light. The forest felt quiet beyond the torrent of blood in his ears.
"I need to sit." Whether Orah accepted it or not, Shale started to make the shift. If he could lie down, he was less of a fall risk. It meant he wouldn't run great chances of passing out anymore, and even if he did, little damage would be done. Orah wouldn't need to catch him. She could complete the trip to rifle his bow case without him. She could do so and come back far more quickly than she could while bearing half of Shale's weight.
The targets were simply released, and most fluttered to the ground face down. He cared little. For now, all the use they found were as blotches of distracting white against an otherwise washed out backdrop. His vision studded with stars at the edges.
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Posted: Mon Jan 18, 2016 8:33 pm
Shale was a good deal taller, and heavier, than Orah herself was and it was a struggle to support him. She barely managed to get him down on the ground without dropping him, which was a blessing since he was already in enough pain it clipped his words. Once he was safely down, she scrambled for his case and the clippers he said he had. Adrenaline made her heart pound in her chest, but she pushed down the panic into more useful channels.
Don't let it shake you... use it. Focus. Think.
Flipping open the top, she rifled through the tools he had collected their until her fingers wrapped around the pliers with the red grip. They felt heavy in her hand and Orah gripped them tightly as she spun to find her back, dumping the content of it out on the ground to get at the small medical kit she always kept with her. She needed the bandages... gauze... medical tape... disinfectant... Anything she thought she might need, she grabbed and carried the lot of it back over to Shale, blood staining his pants.
Keep calm. Breathe. You can do this.
How many hundreds of times had she done something like this? How much worse had she seen and lived through and healed? Maybe none of it was real, but she remembered it like it was... if she could just remember the feel of confidence, of capability... she just needed to get through this, for Shale.
"Are you ready?" She said, forcing her voice to calm and steady. To sound more sure of herself than she really was. Orah's fingers rested lightly on his leg beside the protruding shaft and her dark eyes sought his pale ones, aching to see the pain written deep in the lines of his face. "I'm going to clip the shaft. When you're ready."
We'll get you through this, Shale. I'm going to take care of you. It'll be okay. She needed to reassure herself of that, as much as him.
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